Return to Me

  ***

  The house was silent and dark by the time she made her way back home from an afternoon shopping trip two days after Erik had left for New York. Earlier in the day, a trip to Helena’s outdoor walking mall and dinner at a quiet little Italian restaurant with a book and a glass of tea and plenty of noise for company had seemed the perfect way to keep her mind off of Erik being gone for another night. But now, squinting into the dark, she was beginning to wish she’d stayed home, cooked ravioli from a can and blared the television.

  The headlights were doing an overall terrible job of cutting through the dense fog that coated the area in a thick blanket, and she was grateful she had grown up in this house. If she hadn’t, the upward climb and twisting and turning driveway that led to her front door would have been downright treacherous. As it was, she switched off the radio and focused carefully on the dark path that wound through the woods for nearly a full mile, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted the porch lights at the front of the house. Both were on, as she had left them, but otherwise the house looked silent as a tomb. She shivered at the thought of going into a dark, empty house at such a late hour and had the insane urge to simply turn the car around, make her way back down the lane and return to the heart of the city. She could find a hotel for the remainder of the night. One look out the window that had already become all but obliterated by mist and ice quelled that notion. Driving around in weather like this when she didn’t have to was beyond dumb.

  Sleeping in the car was another idea that was quickly considered and even more quickly discarded. It was freezing out and Erik would never let her hear the end of it when he finally came home if he were to find her huddled in the driver’s seat of her car, attempting a good night’s rest. Reminding herself that she was a grown woman, she squared her shoulders and pushed her way firmly from the car, regarding the house with much trepidation before trudging up the walkway to stand before the ornately carved, solid wood front door. Damn, but she wished she'd thought to leave an inside light on this morning. There was nothing worse than coming home to a dark house on a very black night. There was barely even a moon to cast any illumination onto the property. A smugglers moon, she recalled the old saying, trying not to tremble.

  When, after several minutes, the bitter cold became too much, she pushed the key into the lock and turned it, heard the click that told her the door was now unlocked, and very slowly pushed her way inside. The ancient grandfather clock in the parlor boomed the hour, nearly scaring ten years off of Paige's life in the process and she slumped against the door frame, gave an awkward giggle and stripped out of her coat and boots, letting them fall in a heap on the floor mat.

  "Now to turn on the lights..." She was half way across the entryway when she felt a pair of rough hands grab her shoulders. She spun around, a scream lodging itself in her throat and coming out as a squeak instead of the deafening roar she'd been going for. Damn, her mind whirled, he hadn’t made a sound, just reached out and grabbed her quick as a striking snake. And she was sure it was a man who held her in his ever tightening grasp. She went for his face, but before her hand made contact, it was manacled by iron-hard fingers, twisted behind her and painfully shoved up between her shoulder blades.

  The more she twisted and struggled and bucked against him, the more iron his grip became; when one arm snaked around her waist and anchored her back against him, Paige felt true panic-she was completely, utterly helpless against the faceless, nameless stranger who'd invaded her home. She had always wondered how she would react in such a situation.

  Don’t panic, she remembered from her college self-defense courses, stay calm and...And what? Her mind went blank. Damn. Don’t struggle-the words seemed to whisper through her mind, and suddenly she recalled the instructor’s rape prevention training. Don’t struggle, don’t do anything to further provoke your attacker. Use your strength against him when the opportunity presents itself. She took three deep breaths, telling herself over and over again to stay calm, to wait for the opportunity to fight or flee or both, reminding herself that the goal was to stay alive, above all else. This she repeated like a mantra, because truly, her instinct was to fight and rage against the man who held her captive. A brash move that, at this particular moment at least, was sure to land her in more trouble.

  "Shhh...."

  The sound was whispered close enough to her ear to send chills down her spine, as though her attacker could sense her rising agitation. She gasped at the feel of teeth closing lightly over her ear lobe, followed closely by a caressing tongue and smooth hard lips that closed over the sensitive flesh. He whispered to her as though he meant to calm a loved one, slid his fingers under her shirt and splayed them against her rib cage as though he were seducing a lover. Her sharp intake of breath did little to calm her and to her horror, even brought them a fractional inch closer together. His hands were bare, she discovered, fighting to control the strong emotions that churned deep within. Oh lord his hands were bare...fingerprints. He would leave fingerprints in her house. Dear God he meant to kill her!

  "Paige." He whispered in her ear once more, the tip of his tongue following the muted word. She froze. That voice. She knew that voice....

  "Guy?" She whispered tentatively.

  He hesitated and then made a sound that she thought could have been "Mmmm" before he dipped his head to her shoulder.

  "Guy!" She all but shouted, indignant now. "You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing?" She tried to turn around, only to have his hold tighten even more and suddenly she understood.

  "Oh....so that's the game we're playing." She grinned. "Okay. No lights." She agreed when he released her a moment later. She was almost ready to forgive him for terrifying her when he slid the blindfold around her head and settled it firmly over her eyes.

  "Uh...Guy..." She murmured, unsure but willing to play along for the moment. If he got any kinkier than the blindfold though....

  He touched a finger that tasted faintly of salt to her lips and pulled her shirt over her head, pausing when he discovered that she wore no bra underneath the heavy top. Strong hands trembled when they reached for the snap on her jeans and the sound of the metal closure popping free seemed to echo through the room. She stood still as though rooted in place, still reeling from the heady shock of being here like this with him. He seemed to steady himself somewhat as he took a step closer to her, although he seemed unsure of what to do next, where to touch and so his hands trailed everywhere, one finger reaching out to blaze a path around her breast, keeping his touch whisper light, circling closer to its crest with every passing second until she thought she would die if he didn’t touch her more, everywhere-now.

  Paige swayed a little on her feet and gasped when with his other hand, he worked her zipper down a little more and slipped an eager hand into the front of her jeans. Cool fingers flirted with the ruffled edge of her panties for what seemed to her to be far too long before finally breaching the barrier to cup her, skin to skin, separating her with ease. Her hands came up instinctively to clutch at the thin fabric of his T shirt, every sound, every touch was magnified tenfold by her lack of sight. Anticipation left her breathless and clinging to the rising heat as he continued his slow torture, one finger gliding back and forth, wringing liquid heat with every bold stroke.

  She was barely conscious of winding her arms around his neck; her sole focus was dead center and about two feet down, on the long finger that was pushing deep inside her now and driving her to the edge of sane and rational thought. His lips and tongue played at the corner of her mouth, enticing her to open for him in every way possible and Paige fought the achingly sweet sensation that was steadily building, forced the frantic motion of her hips to slow down, a near impossible feat, but she didn’t want the magic to end, not yet.

  Right then she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in this sensual fog that he seemed to effortlessly weave, a dark quiet place where they were the only two people left on Earth. Head tilted,
she pressed herself closer and opened to his tongue, groaning into his mouth when the move caused the palm of his hand to press tighter to her overheated flesh, crying out when his thumb moved over her in a series of slick rapid strokes that incited a frenzy of movement.

  "Nooo..." The protest was dragged from her when he withdrew his hand a split second later. One lean arm stayed firmly anchored at her waist and for this she was profoundly grateful. She was pretty sure she would have ended up on the floor as he deftly maneuvered the course denim of her jeans down legs that had gone liquid along with the rest of her. One hand came up to touch the thick material that covered her eyes, and she heard him make a tsking sound that was at once teasing and stern. What would he do if she dared to remove the blindfold? Did he have a set of handcuffs stashed somewhere? After the briefest moment of speculation, she decided not to risk it, though strangely enough the idea served to cause a fresh wave of heat to sweep through her already raging nerve endings.

  The house was cool and drafty since she had not bothered to turn the heat on before leaving earlier in the day, and the bite in the air was felt all the more by the way she was exposed, bare to the skin save for what was surely the skimpiest pair of panties that she possessed within her wardrobe. Tiny frissons of heat ricocheted through her when hands that were rough and intensely hot skimmed over the swells of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, curving over slim hips as though caressing a finely made hourglass. His heat contrasted sharply with the cold and the sensation was tantalizingly bittersweet.

  A strangled moan escaped, unbidden, when she felt the whisper light touch brush down the center of the lace that barely covered her most private region from top to bottom before two strong fingers buried themselves between her thighs to rub back and forth, slow and steady and strong and relentless until she knew he must have felt explicit evidence of her desire on the digits that were determined to continue on in their sweet torture.

  Adrenaline surged and Paige pitched forward to catch herself on his hard shoulders, alternating between pressing her thighs tightly together and biting her lower lip, wondering now when he would end this torment, hoping it would be soon. Each stroke wound her tighter and she didn’t know how much more she could take. And then he leaned forward to taste her. She felt his mouth, hot and devouring as he divided his attention between raining biting kisses on her thighs and swirling the tip of his tongue on the tight bud of her desire before covering her completely with his mouth, using hands and teeth and tongue to bring her once more to the edge, his maddening habit of stopping just short of release making her cry out in abject frustration. She had become a wild thing under his ministrations, seeing nothing, hearing nothing save for the blood that rushed through her veins and her own desperate need.

  She felt something akin to sobbing, grateful relief when he finally slid up her body in a graceful, catlike movement and gripped her in a move that screamed of blatant possession; a second later, Paige was literally caught between a rock and a hard place-the rock being the wall that her back was suddenly forced against, the hard place his arousal pressing into her, moving up and down, making the lace of her panties rub against her most sensitive areas and very nearly causing her to lose it right then and there. She whimpered when he teased her further, slapping his swollen shaft against her before possessing her.

  He didn’t bother to remove the thin scrap of lace, but simply moved it aside, lifted her with one arm beneath her bottom and drove into her with a force that wrung a hoarse, primal sound from her; she could hold out no longer, the orgasm taking over then, to roll on and on, mingling with his own a second later, until they were both gasping for precious air and half-heartedly clinging to one another.

  He stroked the damp hair from her face, kissed her forehead, and slowly released her when he seemed confident that she wouldn’t fall to the floor in a boneless heap. Paige was spent and completely sated, steeped as she was in the hazy glow of aftermath and exhaustion, and rather than move away from him, she remained close, enjoying the skin to skin contact, resting her head on his shoulder and leaning heavily into his solid warmth until she felt his lips curve against her temple. He picked her up then, folded her close to his bare chest and made his way up the staircase, carrying her high against him all the way to her bedroom.

  She sighed true and deep, more content than she could remember being in a very long time, maybe more so than she had ever been in her entire life. The knowledge that she was still wearing his blindfold nagged at her, but not enough to warrant her moving even the few inches required to remove the garment. She felt him pause by the bedroom door and then the turn of a knob sounded, the creak of wood, and then they were in, moving until she knew they must be at her queen size bed. The sheets were blessedly cool as he lay her down and covered her with a thickly quilted bedspread.

  “Stay.” She managed to utter, turning on her side and seeking the sleep her body demanded. A moment later his solid weight was next to her, her back fitting nicely against his chest, one hand coming up to rest on the heavy arm that anchored her to him. She felt him remove the blindfold just before she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.