“You knew?” Her arms clutched at his back.
“I was pretty sure,” he said against her temple. Shane pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. “I’m really happy you decided to tell me.” He smiled, a jolt of anticipation lancing through him, and realized she needed him to throw her a rope. He held out his hand and turned on his Southern charm. “Hi, I’m Shane McCallan. I’m so pleased to meet you.”
Her cheeks flamed but her smile was grateful. She took his hand. “Hi, Shane, I’m Sara Dean.”
Sara. Yeah. The name was real and sweet and feminine. “Sara Dean. A perfect name for such a beautiful girl.” Damn, but he was just about flying. This moment was why he’d told Marz not to reveal her name.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“What for, Sara? Protecting yourself?” Shane shook his head, his chest full with emotion. “Never be sorry for that. If you hadn’t done such a good job all this time, we might never have had the chance to meet.”
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a molten-hot kiss that set his body on fire. The aggressiveness of her lips, the tightness of her grip, the yearning, needful moans spilling into his mouth reflected a woman taking a chance, taking charge, taking control. This woman, his Sara, was like a phoenix rising from the flames, and somehow this magical creature had pulled him inside the ring of fire and allowed him to stand witness to the miracle of her rebirth.
When she pulled away, they were both panting hard and smiling. It was a moment of such lightness and ease that Shane could’ve lived in it forever.
Sara—amazing how easily his brain accommodated to knowing the truth of the woman who held such sway over his heart—slipped her hand in his and squeezed. “There’s one more thing I need to share.” As Shane watched, she stepped around him, crossed the room, climbed on the bed, and stretched out on her stomach hugging a pillow beneath her head.
Showing Shane her scars. Letting him look his fill.
He knew battle-hardened warriors without that much courage and spirit.
But, aw, Christ. The injuries were worse than Shane had been able to feel by a factor of five. He hadn’t been wrong about the cause, though. Sara had been severely beaten. Multiple times with at least two instruments, he guessed.
A boulder parked itself on his chest, but he forced himself to move across the room and crawl up on the bed beside her.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing her hair over her right shoulder so that he could see the whole canvas of her back.
She turned her face toward him, but made no effort to make eye contact. “Yeah. Now, I am.”
“Will it bother you if I touch you there?”
“No. I can’t even feel some of it anymore.” And looking at where the deepest cuts had been and the most knotted scar tissue remained, Shane could guess where. “Do you really want to?” she asked, her voice a little grossed out.
Shane didn’t answer with words. And he didn’t explore with his hands.
Leaning over her, he pressed a firm kiss against the most gnarled scar just below her left shoulder blade. She gasped. “My beautiful Sara,” he said. Middle of her back, just left of her spine. Kiss. “Beautiful, beautiful Sara.” The tail end of the lowest scar. Kiss. “So very pretty.” As she trembled beneath him, he repeated the ritual for each distinct mark he could make out. Twenty-two in all. Seven darker, redder, deeper lines had been carved into her skin by one tool, and at least fifteen paler, flatter, stripes had been permanently etched into her skin by another.
Only when he’d kissed every one did he touch her with his hands, light strokes of his fingers and palms to learn the landscape of her. “Do you have lasting pain?” Shane asked, barely recognizing the almost hoarse voice that came out of him.
“My upper back gets fatigued easily if I try to carry too much,” she said in a low voice. “And my left shoulder always feels tight. Sometimes, there’s a lot of twingy achiness that comes out of nowhere.”
Lying on his side, Shane stretched out beside Sara, his face aligned with hers, his hand lightly stroking her back.
“Do you want to know?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Shane said, even though a part of him was already dying inside. Before the first words left her mouth, he reined himself in, slipping on his medic hat and borrowing a bit of the professional distance you were trained to develop when working life-or-death situations.
He didn’t want to scare her with his rage.
Slowly, almost mechanically, Sara recounted the downward spiral of events that spun out of her father’s arrest and the revelation of his massive indebtedness to the Church gang after his death in prison. The loss of her house, her belongings, her freedom. When she got to the moment when the first of the men had entered the basement room of Confessions, Shane turned onto his back and urged her to lay her head on his shoulder so he could hold her close. Over the course of four or five days, seven men came to Sara’s room. Often individually, once a group. She was raped, caned, and whipped before Bruno finally pulled her out, took her under his wing, and found her another way she could pay her father’s debts.
Shane’s chest burned with rage and regret. It was every worst-case scenario he’d imagined come to life. Prostitution, sexual slavery, forced labor. What hadn’t she gone through in the past four years? Sara’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.
Being forced to work at Confessions was when Sara slowly faded away. After Bruno’s rescue, she formally dropped out of college, cared for her teenage sister, and, at Bruno’s insistence, took on a new name. “By the time I realized what had happened to my life, it was too late to get it back again.”
“I’m so sorry, Sara,” Shane managed, hugging her in tight and kissing her forehead. “If I could take it away and bear it for you, I would.”
She tilted her face toward his and met his eyes. “You just did,” she said. After a moment, she burrowed into his body, and her muscles relaxed against him.
Shane reveled in the fact she’d felt safe enough to bare her body and her soul to him this way. He swallowed hard as a revelation overwhelmed him. “I’ve never felt closer to another person than I do to you.”
When she didn’t respond, Shane lifted his head to find her eyes closed and her face slack. After the day she’d had and the memories she’d shared, he didn’t blame her one bit, and he didn’t mind, either. They’d have plenty more time to talk and to love.
Sara had fallen asleep without a shirt, so Shane tugged the edge of the covers up over her bare skin. They never had managed to get changed. No matter. Whatever she needed, he was willing to do. For Sara.
Sara. Sara. Sara. The name suited her beauty and her quiet strength so well.
Emotion lodged in Shane’s throat.
He didn’t just want to be there for her tonight or tomorrow or during this mission, however long it lasted. Miraculously, Shane was flirting with thoughts of forever. When this was all over, she could come back to Northern Virginia with him. Or if she wished to live somewhere else, he’d consider that, too. Wasn’t like he loved the job he had. But he definitely loved Sara. Now he just had to find a way to convince her that she didn’t have to go on the run. That he could provide her and Jenna—when they got her back, because they would—a safe future.
Because he couldn’t live with any other result.
Chapter 21
You’re wearing my shirt,” came Shane’s gravelly voice from behind her.
Only the palest of sunlight filtered in through the window. It was still early. Sara lay with her back against his front and smiled. “I woke up in the middle of the night and changed.”
He hummed approvingly and snuggled his face into her neck. Little kisses rained down against her skin there. Shane stretched behind her, and he thrust his hips into her bottom.
Hello, Mr. McCallan. He was hard and thick and ready.
Arousal shot through her body, peaking her nipples and setting her blood on fire—and waking her all the way up.
> Jenna. Fear slammed into her anew. Her thoughts raced with worry over what had happened to her sister overnight. The possibilities were endless, and too many of them were unthinkably horrifying. God, Sara wished there was something she could do.
Shane’s hand rubbed across her stomach, small circles that had Sara wishing he’d wander up or down.
They would do something. Tonight. The plan was mostly set. So couldn’t she let herself be in this moment with Shane?
As if he’d read her wants, Shane’s hand slid up to caress the valley between her breasts, ratcheting her desire for his touch everywhere. Testing the waters—of her own reaction, not his—Sara ground herself against him.
His groan spilled into her ear and spiked her desire. No panic. No flashbacks.
Nothing but Shane’s incredible body and kind heart making her feel safe enough to consider taking a chance. The other night, he’d given her one of the most incredible orgasms of her life, and they’d been mostly dressed. Now she wanted more.
She rocked backward again, and a thrill shot through her belly when he met her thrust with one of his own. What would it like to be with him for real, nothing standing between them? “Oh, Sara,” he said gruffly.
That’s right. Not Crystal. Not anymore. And God did it feel good to reclaim herself after such a long time of locking herself away.
It was Shane who’d helped her find the courage to come back to herself—or at least start to. She wasn’t naïve. She knew it might be a rocky road. But she couldn’t get to the destination if she never took the first step.
Part of the journey had been embracing Sara in place of Crystal, part of it had been coming out of hiding about what had happened to her, and part of it involved reestablishing control over her body.
And that had her thinking about the incredibly sexy and very definitely aroused man holding her tight against him.
After everything he’d done for her, Sara was ready for more of him. For all of him. And given how full her heart was with love for him—because that’s definitely what it was—Shane was the only man she wanted.
Shifting onto her back, she peered up into Shane’s heavy-lidded gaze. “I want you,” she said, the foreign admission of desire sending a zing of energy through her.
In the dim morning light, Shane rolled over, bringing his chest atop hers. The initial press of his weight created a phantom wave of panic that receded almost as quickly as it’d come. The minute her brain registered his scent and the increasing familiarity of his touch, she’d calmed again.
“God, I want you, too,” he said, claiming her mouth with a hungry kiss that soon grew urgent. Shane kissed, nipped, licked, and stroked until Sara was breathless and wet. He worshipped her neck, her collarbones, and, undoing the top few buttons, her chest.
With no secrets between them, Sara was able to relax as Shane kissed the soft mounds of her breasts, flicked at her nipples with his tongue, and sucked the rosy buds in deep. Her heart kicked into a staccato rhythm fueled entirely by desire, something she hadn’t felt in so, so long.
Sara stroked Shane’s hair and explored his shoulders and back. She loved the feel of him, and loved even more that she felt free to participate in this act in a way that was never true with Bruno. “Come here,” she said, pulling him back to her mouth.
He didn’t hesitate one second. Sara lifted her head to kiss him, taking his face in her hands, pushing her tongue into his mouth, swallowing the delicious groan her actions unleashed. When he finally pulled back, more light had filtered into the room, allowing Sara to see that his scorching gray gaze mirrored her own desire back at her. That someone so handsome and so good could know all the things about her she’d thought so ugly and undesirable and still want her was a miracle for which she’d always be grateful.
Shane’s fingers massaged her temples and stroked the sides of her hair. “I need you to tell me what you want and how you want it. Anything you say is going to please the hell out of me,” he said with a crazy sexy smile, “so don’t you worry about that. But I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want to make any mistakes here.”
“You’re so good to me, Shane McCallan. Do you know that? You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” The declaration held so much truth, it brought tears to her eyes.
A mix of emotions passed over his expression for a moment before settling on one that took her breath away. “It’s easy to be good to someone when you love them the way I love you.”
Sara’s breath hitched, and a tear fell. “You . . . love me?”
“Aw, darlin’. I’m so in love with you, I can barely think straight.” He pressed a long kiss to her lips.
Sara pressed a hand over her heart. “I . . . I . . .” She swallowed hard, determined to be able to say what she felt in her heart in this moment. “I love you, too, Shane. Since you came to check on me in the dressing room that night. Right now, it feels like my chest can’t possibly hold it in,” she finally managed in a fast whisper.
“Don’t cry, Sara,” he said with a small smile.
The emotion flowing through her was so big, so intense, she had to let some of it out. “I can’t help it. I’m just so happy. I never dared to hope . . .” She wound her arms around him and held him tight. And Shane held her right back. “I love you,” she whispered again. “Please make love to me.”
Shane let out a groan so low and sexy it was almost a growl. “Just tell me what you want, sweetness. How I can make this good for you?”
Arousal fogged her thoughts, but Sara knew what she wanted. “Can I, um, be on top?”
“Fuck, yes,” he said licking his lips. “What else?”
Sara wasn’t used to talking so graphically about sex, and she certainly wasn’t used to someone’s wanting to learn what gave her the most pleasure, but it was just another reason why she felt safe taking this step with Shane. “I want to do so many things with you,” she said. “But right now, I really want you inside me.”
“Your wish,” he said in a rough voice as he worked at the remaining buttons on her shirt. “If you tell me to slow down or stop, I promise to do it immediately.” He helped her slip the cotton off her shoulders, then he rolled to the side and kicked off his jeans and boxers.
Holy crap, Shane was gorgeous everywhere. His cock stood thick and veined, and another time she was going to revel in learning the contours of him with her tongue. Needing to feel him, she grasped him in her hand and explored the heavy weight of his length from base to tip. A deep groan ripped from his chest that made her need him more urgently. “Mmm, I’m going to enjoy you,” she said.
“God, Sara, you are so fucking sexy, I am losing my mind right now.” He leaned up and captured her lips in a powerful kiss. “Stand up, sweetness.”
Intrigued by the mischievous look on his face, Sara smiled and stood at the side of the bed.
In a flash, Shane sat up and swung his feet to the ground on either side of her legs. He slid down her panties, dragging kisses along her legs until they fell to the floor. Then he wrapped strong arms around her thighs and worshipped her belly and hips with soft, sweet kisses that made her smile.
Shane’s mouth dropped to the apex of her thighs. “Just one taste,” he said. And then he pushed his tongue into her folds, finding her aroused clit on the first wet swipe.
Sara gasped and nearly screamed in pleasure.
No one had ever done this to her before, but he’d given her so little warning, so little time to get nervous about it, that his amazing tongue had already enslaved her to the wet, fast, flicking sensations before she’d had a chance to think about it at all.
“Should I stop?” he rasped.
The withdrawal of his tongue nearly made her cry. She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled him close. “Don’t stop. Please.” Sara would’ve bet every dime she owned that it couldn’t get better, but Shane returned with a vengeance, licking and sucking until she couldn’t stop moaning. One of his arms continued to hold her thighs closed tight, forcing his tongu
e to hit the exact right place over and over and over again, while he brought his other hand around to open her just the smallest bit more to his mouth.
A sob of pleasure ripped up Sara’s throat. She pulled his hair in an involuntary reaction, and Shane groaned.
The room spun and Sara felt dizzy with mind-blowing and totally unexpected pleasure that spiraled tighter and tighter in her belly.
“Oh, oh, something is, Shane—” The orgasm slammed into her so hard that she saw stars and couldn’t make a sound, as if she were frozen in suspended animation. His mouth still pressed to her core, Shane unleashed a groan of satisfaction as his tongue slowed and licked her lazily a few more times.
He leaned back and looked up at her with blazing eyes and wet lips. “I could tongue you all day long,” he said, his chest lifting and falling.
“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” she said, glad he’d taken the initiative. Had he offered, she almost certainly would’ve said no. And then she might not have learned the incredible intimacy and indescribable pleasure of having the man she loved pleasure her with such singular abandon. Reaching between them, she grasped his cock, slick at the thick head. “I want you in me, Shane.”
He patted her thigh. “Let me get a condom.” He crossed to a duffel and, bending over, sorted through an inside pocket. His ass and thighs were corded, lean muscle. He turned with a square packet in his hand.
“Thank you,” she said, glancing at the wrapper and grateful she didn’t have to have an argument about this. For once. Bruno had hated to use condoms. And though Crystal was on birth control—which was . . . back at her apartment—she suspected Bruno sometimes strayed and had wanted the extra protection. Thank God she’d never caught anything from him.
Shane kissed her hard and deep, and it was an erotic rush to taste the salty-sweet of her own flavor in his mouth. “I’m clean, sweetness. But I will protect you every way I can.” He tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. So sexy. Then he stretched out on his back on the bed.