Hold Me Tight Read online

  But then Charlie sort of crumpled in on herself. I nodded at her and without another word she slid into my booth across from me, her head down, she tapped her fingers on the table, her curls hanging like a curtain in front of her face. I saw her shoulders rise and fall as she took several deep breaths. I sipped my coffee and looked over her shoulder, keeping watch for her manager.

  After second, she took a big breath. "You're not going to hate me now, right?" she asked.

  I shook my head earnestly. "How could I?"

  "Because I..." her voice caught and she looked away. "This isn't who I thought I'd be," she finally sighed, plaintively.

  There was more here than I knew, so I just nodded. "I know," I said, hoping I sounded reassuring.

  "It's so hard sometime. Being alone."

  This I did understand. "I know," I repeated again.

  She stared off into the distance, tapping her fingers against the table some more. Then she looked up and gave me a smile that was wholly and completely genuine. "Thank you."

  I nodded, not fully understanding what happened, but knowing it was necessary. "You'll be fine," I told her.

  Her smile grew wider. "Of course I will," she declared. And with that she slid out of the booth and walked away, swinging her hips as she passed by a booth full of farmers. As they swiveled their heads to watch her, I grinned into my coffee cup. Yeah you will, I thought.

  She was pretty girl, and I had her the palm of my hand. Hell, she was pretty much throwing herself at me. She was ready and willing to be one more girl I pushed too far until I pushed her away, and yet I'd told her no and sent her on her way.

  There was only one girl I wanted.

  Something had changed for me last night. And now I needed to be even more careful.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brynn

  A full week had now gone by since the last day of school and my brand-new journal still sat on my nightstand, unused. Next to it sat my vibrator, which had been getting far too much use since that night with Rett.

  I wasn't even bothering to put it away anymore. I didn't see the point because as soon as I started to think about that night I needed to take it out again.

  That morning, I woke up with the sun and rolled over to see the vibrator glaring at me, accusing. I reached for it, ready to relive the memory — how he'd shattered me completely and then just quietly left before sunrise before anything got awkward or weird — and then let my hand fall away. "No," I said aloud. "This is getting ridiculous."

  We hadn't talked since it happened. No chance meetings at my father's bar, even though I'd been working there nightly in the hopes of running into him. No phone calls, no texts. I felt like I was dangling at the edge of a cliff, but instead of pulling myself back up again, I was summoning the courage to throw myself into the abyss.

  I sat up, full of this restless energy that could not be denied.

  "I think I will go for that hike," I told Mr. Stevens. He was perched at the top of my bed, staring up at the ceiling and a cricket that had been driving him crazy for days. "Did you hear me?" I repeated, nonsensically. "I'm going to hike the falls today. The weather is supposed to be good, not too hot. Perfect hiking weather," I said contentedly. Then let out huge sigh.

  I looked over to see that my cat was staring at me judgmentally. "Don't look at me like that," I chided. "Sometimes you have to try things a bunch of times before you figure out you like them," I said loftily. "You watch, I bet you today I'm going to find out that I'm totally a hiking type person."

  Mr. Stevens blinked contemptuously, then turned back to stare at the wily cricket.

  "I'll show you," I said haughtily. "What do you know? You're just a cat."

  Mr. Stevens leaped down the bed and stalked from the room like he was insulted. I sighed and then followed after him. "I'm not saying sorry," I told him as I stepped around him on the staircase. "I have to go pack my backpack."

  In the kitchen, I opened my pantry door to take stock of my provisions. "Why don't I have any trail mix?" I asked the air. My cat followed me into the kitchen, the insults forgotten since I was near his food bowl, and sat down next to it, tail swishing expectantly, but I ignored him for a moment.

  I picked up a bag of potato chips, an unopened one in a strange flavor that I promised myself I'd try, and then put it back down again. I reached for the old package of Girl Scout cookies, the ones with the coconut that I hated but was suckered into buying from one of my students, then wrinkled my nose and set them back down again. I pawed through the drift of unfinished packages, all the things I'd bought to try and then never did, disgusted with myself.

  "Why am I not more organized? Why don't I have a pantry full of healthy staples?" I asked, quoting a food blogger I followed but never tried any recipes from.

  Why was the idea of doing something always more enticing than the actual doing?

  With a sigh, I pulled out the bag of weirdly flavored potato chips and inspected the contents. "Well," I said as Mr. Stevens wound on his way around my ankles. "If anything, it'll give me a burst of quick energy, right?"

  He let out a hopeful little chirpy meow and I rolled my eyes. "Okay here. Ingrate." I poured a cupful of food into his bowl and brushed my hand along his back a couple times, scratching down at the base of his tail like he liked. "Don't burn the house down," I told him and stood back up again, straightening my shoulders. "I'll be back before dark."

  I started out of my house. The entrance to the falls was about a half-mile outside of town. All I needed to do was follow the creek and it would be a pretty easy shortcut. I'd scouted this block out when I first bought my house, with every intention of doing that walk daily. I was very proud of myself that I was finally about to do it now.

  But when I started walking, instead of the left out of my front yard that would lead me to the banks of Reckless Creek, I made a right.

  "The hell am I doing?" I asked the air.

  There was no denying it, I was walking into town.

  "Okay, change of plans then I guess," I said as I crossed the still undeveloped field before picking up the road at the place Main Street opened up and out. "I'm still going for a walk though, it counts."

  I ambled slowly once I reached the main block of shops. I peered into the window of each one, searching for something. What it was, I couldn't exactly tell you, but they didn't have it, and I kept walking.

  I walked until I turned off the main street at the top of the hill. Up here was where the nicer houses stood, the old Victorians built by the early settlers in town. Most of them had been given over to bed-and-breakfasts or historical museums, but there were still a few that were privately owned.

  One in particular, with its slate gray exterior and beautiful red-tiled roof was where I was headed now.

  He was out there in the front yard, pushing a lawnmower. So he didn't hear me, and I could just watch him.

  I'd seen him in a suit, I'd seen him in slacks and polos, but the sight of Everett McCabe shirtless, skin already tanned golden, dark hair glinting in the sun was one I wouldn't soon forget. I stared wantonly, drinking him in, only slightly angry that his mirrored shades obscured those bright green eyes, because the rest of him was so enthralling.

  He reached the front of his house and turned the mower in a sharp corner, picking up the line again precisely as he pushed parallel to where he just mowed.

  Now there was no way he'd avoid seeing me.

  Over the din of the lawnmower, there was another noise of an approaching car with a very bad motor. I turned to see a car full of tourists — twenty-something guys, probably from one of the nearby colleges — slowing down.

  The driver stretched his hand out of his open window as the other guys hooted and laughed. I winced when he beckoned to me, "Come on over here baby, you wanna ride?"

  "I've got something for you to ride!" one of the guys in the back hooted.

  I wrinkled my nose, ready to give him the finger, when I suddenly realized that the lawnmower had
quieted.

  "What the fuck do they want?" Everett said over my shoulder.

  I turned to see him next to me. He stood so tall that he obscured the sun, and suddenly I was in his shadow, and for some reason that made me feel oddly protected.

  "Keep driving," Rett called.

  I swallowed hard. None of the guys I'd dated would've stood there and faced down catcallers. They would have either hissed at me to get inside, or blamed me for wearing shorts that were too short in the first place. Aside from my father and Callum, Rett was the first guy who'd ever actively stood up for me like this.

  The driver seemed to pale. He made a rude gesture but hit the gas and continued down the historic street.

  Rett watched until the car was out of sight and the noise of the motor had died away. Then he turned back to look at me. "That douche bag would have no idea what to do with you if he got you," he said quietly. But I do, he didn't need to say. Because I already knew it.

  I turned to look at him, and it occurred to me that all the times I'd seen Rett shirtless, there had been no natural light. Right now, I could see him in the full blazing light of the sun. His smooth chest was on display, those little brown nipples just at the right height for me to bite. His chest was smooth and unmarked, but for a scar here and there. The torso of a guy who wasn't afraid to work hard.

  I blinked and looked away.

  "It's good to see you again," Rett said.

  I looked back at him, strangely relieved that he didn't ask why I was there. Hell, I had no idea why I was there other than I felt the need to be.

  He nodded towards my backpack. "Headed somewhere else?"

  I looked behind me like I'd forgotten it was there, and I kind of had. "No."

  "Would you like to come in?"

  "Sure."

  Rett gestured for me to go in first. It was strange how the fact that he was such a gentleman was somehow not at odds with the way he'd treated my body Saturday night. The two opposing forces that made up Rett McCabe fit together in perfect harmony.

  As I mounted his front steps, he rested his hand in the small of my back, guiding and leading me with a gentle, yet possessive motion that had me blushing immediately. Heat gathered just under his touch. My skin was a live wire already.

  I could no longer deny why I'd walked here, and even if I could deceive myself, there was no deceiving my body. It craved that danger he'd promised me.

  I'd come here to find out the secrets he was keeping.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brynn

  As we stepped into the entryway, Rett slipped past me, and walked into the kitchen. He reached up to one of the high cupboards and pulled down two tumblers, filling them from a pitcher in his refrigerator.

  "Here," he said, extending one in offering. "You look hot.”

  I grinned at the double entendre and accepted the glass of water. "So do you," I said teasingly.

  He lifted his chin at me in acknowledgment and pushed himself up to sit on the counter, then took a sip of his water. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, and I realized I was staring at him.

  He set the glass on the counter and looked back at me. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I said. Everything, my mind screamed.

  He slid off the counter, and stepped towards me like he had heard what my mind was saying rather than my lips. "What are you here for?" he asked, his eyes darkening.

  What was I here for? Each time that we came together in the past, it had been on impulse.

  But this? This was the light of day. Both of us perfectly sober. This was deliberate. This was something else entirely.

  "Are you going to make me beg?" I said thickly.

  He moved closer, snaking his hand around my neck and sliding his fingers up into my hair. He closed his hand, gathering up a fistful of my hair. "Is that what you’re here for?" he asked.

  "I think so," I moaned. Why did I seem to always lose my dignity when it came to him? I inhaled the smell of him with relish, the clean scent of his exertion and that other scent that was undeniably his.

  "If that's what you're here for," Rett breathed, drawing closer to me. "If that's what you want... then kiss me."

  I tilted my head, straining forward, but he had me by the hair, I couldn't move. I opened my eyes and looked at him feeling the sting on my scalp. And I watched his eyes darken even further as he held me immobilized.

  I bit my lip, and he responded with a soft growl. Still holding on to my hair, he reached down and grabbed one of my wrists, then the other, and walked us backwards against the wall. It was a perfect imitation of what he'd done the night of the prowler, except this was deliberate instead of rushed and accidental. It was almost like we were moving to some sort of perverse instinctive choreography.

  He pinned my arms over my head, pressing my body up against the wall. "Kiss me," he said again.

  I tilted my chin and met his eyes. "I can't move," I told him breathlessly.

  He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine again. Once more my vision was filled with the green of his eyes, and I could feel the electricity swirling between us, fizzling and sparkling,

  And then something in the air changed. Like something sliding into place. His green eyes opened wider, almost in shock. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

  I exhaled, long and slow. He had me trapped, pinned, completely at his mercy, and yet? "Yes," I said.

  At that, he leaned down and finally kissed me, slow and deep and melting. I surrendered to the feel of his mouth on mine, meeting the slide of him against my teeth and the eager exploration of each other's mouths. He pulled back, taking my bottom lip in between his teeth, then met my gaze again, biting down as he watched me. I winced as the pain grew sharper and he backed off the pressure, just slightly, holding me right at the very edge of pain.

  "Do you trust me?" he asked again.

  I caught my breath. It was different this time. I knew instinctually that this was a point of no return. "I do," I repeated, because I did, but I also knew that he was trusting me with some dark knowledge that he'd never shared before.

  I was intrigued. And honored. And curious.

  And deeply turned on.

  When he let go of my arms again, I ran them up his body. The feel of him was familiar, but this was all different. The air was changed. Charged. I squirmed, feeling unsettled, and that thrilled me though I had no idea why.

  I was practically gasping.

  He looked at me, up and down, and though I wasn't afraid of him, all of a sudden I was aware that I was not the one in charge here.

  He let his eyes rake down my body. I felt my nipples harden under his gaze and he licked his lips and smiled.

  "Give me your hand."

  I gave it to him.

  He turned it upward and ran his finger in a light circle around my wrist, his gaze intent and focused. "I'm going to tie you up," he said, flicking his eyes up to mine. "That okay with you?"

  I blinked. This wasn't what I expected. But it made perfect fucking sense. I swallowed and licked my lips, remembering how it felt to be held down. "Maybe," I exhaled. Then nodded. "Yeah. I think it is."

  His eyes darkened and he twined his fingers in mine. "Come with me."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Everett

  She followed me back into my bedroom. I could hear the sound of her feet against my wood floors and that sound was the only thing that kept me from thinking I was in some kind of dream.

  I'd asked her.

  And she said yes.

  When we reached my bedroom, she stopped. I could tell she was taking stock of this and I would have given anything to know what she was thinking. Did she wonder why my bed was so huge? Did she think it had anything to do with my perversion or did she just assume I bought it to accommodate my six-foot-four frame? Was she looking around for warning signs?

  Would she stay?

  I wouldn't stop her if she left right now. But I was also certain that I w
ould never be able to look at her again. To come so close only to turn away...

  The box is there, high up on the shelf in the back of my closet. Before I reached up and grabbed it, I paused to consider. I could still give her an out. I could still smile and say just kidding and proceed with regular, vanilla sex.

  I darted a quick glance behind me to see Brynn standing there, eyes shining with something quietly ecstatic.

  Then I made my decision.

  When I turned back around, Brynn's eyes went straight to the length of rope in my hand. It's bright white and silky. I kept it coiled and neatly knotted, because I like everything to be neat and orderly. It helped keep back the chaos inside of me.

  Even when it's the chaos that gets me off the hardest.

  "You have rope available, just waiting there?" Brynn said, her eyes wide. I could tell that she was trying to make light of the situation, laughing away her nervousness.

  But I felt no such nervousness. With the rope my hand, I felt calmer then I'd felt in a long time. More in control. That which I had been denying for so long was no longer able to be denied.

  "Yes," I said. Because what other answer could there possibly be to that question? Then I looked up at her and gave her a grin, reminding her that after all, it was still me, the man she said she trusted. "I like to be prepared," I told her.

  Her lips slipped into a sideways grin, and I saw some of the nervousness fade away, replaced with an eager shine to her eyes.

  She was into this. She was into this. Like I was. And the fact that she was made me want to kneel down at her feet and kiss those sweet little toes.

  "Take off your shirt," I told her. There was a tightness in my throat that I couldn't swallow away.

  She bit her lip in the momentary agony of indecision before nodding lightly and obeying. My heart pounded in my throat as I watched her lift her t-shirt over her head. In the daylight, the creamy peach of her skin was even more enticing. The rope I had in my hand was silken, white and expensive. Against that skin, it would look like lace. I was going to weave her into intricate knotwork fit for a princess.