After the Hurt Read online

  The sheet slipped down, exposing her curved shoulder and the swell of her breast under the clingy top. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips moved as if she were mouthing words. She used to talk in her sleep. Sometimes her words were understandable and other times, gibberish. Most times she didn’t remember what she’d said in the morning. He’d caught her sleep walking a couple times too. Which frightened the hell out of him because who would have been there for her when she was away? Had she been alone?

  She murmured unintelligible words. Tank didn’t move and held his breath, not wanting to wake her. Suddenly he felt awkward, like a voyeur, and if she woke to find him staring at her that wouldn’t be cool.

  He let his gaze linger on her sleeping form for a second longer before turning away. He backed up and was nearly out the door when the floor creaked. He paused and swore softly.

  Pepper’s sleepy voice halted him. “Tank?”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “S’okay. What’cha doing?”

  “Just checking on you.”

  “Mmm, ’kay.”

  She rolled over to face him. With her sleepy eyes and mussed-up hair, well, he’d never seen anything so damn sexy. Tank gritted his teeth, longing to fist his fingers into the silky length and hold her tight. The soft light made her lips shine and he ached to kiss them until they were bruised with passion. He had to hear her pleasure moans again. More important, he wanted to be the one responsible for them.

  She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. “C’mere.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. Tank was by the bed in two steps. He took her hand and closed his eyes for the briefest moment when the heat of her flesh lit him up like he’d just stepped outside into the sun. He melted into her touch and ignited to a full burn.

  “Sit,” she told him.

  The king-size bed moved slightly as he perched on the edge of the mattress. Any closer and he might lose his tightly reined-in restraint. She rolled a little closer to his thigh. He watched her eyelids flutter a couple of times before they slowly closed as she struggled to stay awake.

  “Sleep; you’re exhausted.” He raised his hand and smoothed her hair off her face. Thick and silky, the tendrils flowed through his fingers. His stomach muscles tightened and he curled his fingers into a fist, holding her hair as if to never let it—or her—go again. Then he dropped her hair, not liking his growing weakness where she was concerned.

  “Stay with me,” she murmured in a drowsy voice. Did she know how sultry she sounded? It made him want her more than was good for him. A fierce protectiveness mixed with his arousal and confusion over his chaotic emotions was becoming almost too exhausting to fight. Tank curled his toes into the plush carpet. Her arm draped over his lap and she rested her head on his thigh, mere inches from his totally alert penis. Tank bit back a groan.

  “I will. Sleep,” he whispered.

  “Mmm…lie down with me.”

  The urge to hold her in his arms was too great to resist. Just for a few moments he’d do as she asked. She likely wouldn’t remember in the morning and jeopardize his resolve to find out exactly why she’d come home. For the money or…Tomorrow. Tonight he’d hold her.

  Tank slowly moved until he was stretched out beside her. She snuggled into his side and he put his arm around her, cuddling her close. Pepper’s breath warmed his chest and she draped a leg over his thigh like she used to do. The groan he’d been holding escaped. Just for a few minutes, he told himself, I’ll stay and then go back to the safety of the couch. She seemed to fall back asleep and he relaxed with her in his arms.

  “You feel good.” Pepper’s sleepy voice was muffled against him, but there was no mistaking the husky tone. If she’d been having sexy dreams, likely she was still feeling the passion, which meant he had to be extra cautious. Sure enough, moments later she rolled over and straddled him. Tank nearly exploded out of his skin when her heat seared him through their clothes.

  She leaned over him, her hands on either side of his head. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, her familiar and exotic scent a sudden reminder of what he’d been missing. Pepper’s lips, soft and warm, pressed against his neck. His pulse leapt into overdrive. Slowly, she pumped her hips, her pussy rubbing over his cock with delicious friction that he’d sorely missed. She moaned sweetly, deeply, and he was hard pressed not to respond to her.

  Tank itched to rip off her shorts and top, flip her under him, and bury his cock in her heat. The need to lay his hands on her and feel her bare flesh next to his was so overpowering he thought his heart might pump him into an early stroke. It took all he had to restrain himself. How far would she go? How far would he let her go? It was getting harder to ignore her and he knew he needed to put a stop to it before it got too far out of control. His gut told him to push her away, but he didn’t have the willpower. And knowing she’d likely not remember in the morning unless she fully woke up now, it was wrong to not—

  “Ahh.” The groan erupted from him when Pepper arched her back and tipped her hips, clenching her thighs tight to his hips. He couldn’t look away from her breasts as they strained the thin fabric of her top. His hands had a will of their own. He couldn’t, didn’t, want to stop them from sliding up her thighs to rest in the curve of her waist. Her skin was so silky and warm, so familiar, yet it seemed forever since he’d felt her. He slipped his fingertips under the hem of her top. Pepper shivered when he touched her bare flesh. He watched with delighted awe when her nipples hardened against the fabric.

  Tank murmured, “Like I said last night, you’re a responsive witch.” This time calling her that wasn’t so much an insult as an endearment.

  He gripped her waist firmly and pushed her down on him. Hard. Pepper’s breath was ragged. Tank groaned. Trying to resist the draw of her breasts, he tightened his hold on her waist. He hadn’t forgotten how perfectly they fit in his palms or how the stiffened peaks grew larger under the sweep of his thumbs, but that was a memory and he wasn’t to touch her breasts now. No matter how much he wanted to. Tank licked his lips, so tempted to pull a hardened nipple between his lips and suckle it. He tightened his hold again in order resist the urge to reach for her tits. It took everything he had to lift her off of him. She was light, easy to move, and he gently laid her beside him on the rumpled sheets.

  He swung his legs over the side and stood. Looking down at her, he admitted that he loved how she lay in a rumpled, sexy heap on the bed. She looked good enough to eat, and how he loved to do that to her as well. Tank took a step back and drew in a deep breath.

  She snuggled into the sheets and her breathing evened out as she fell back asleep. Normally she was a wildcat when it came to interrupted sex. Once she got going she didn’t want to stop. The fact she wasn’t contrary right now confirmed she’d been asleep and dreaming. He ran his hand over his head and fixed the front of his pants with the other. His erection throbbed painfully. He wanted her full awake when they made love.

  Made love?

  Tank had been so damn sure that would never happen again and now, here he was, planning something he’d been determined to avoid. He pulled the covers over her and tucked them in.

  In the doorway he turned and whispered, “I’ll be on the couch.”

  “Mm-hmm,” came from the jumble of pillows.

  He left the room and closed the door, heaving a sigh of relief and frustration. He dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. He had to resist her. She’d broken his heart once and he wasn’t about to let that happen again. No matter how seductive she was. How alluring. Or how much he wanted her. She left once; who was to say she wouldn’t do it again? Yep, he’d call Meg in the morning and get those papers drawn up.

  Chapter 9

  A voice, deep and familiar, reached down into her dream and pulled her from the cozy depths. Pepper struggled through the layers of sleep, stretching as she slowly woke up. She blinked and looked around. A moment of panic at her
unfamiliar surroundings made her sit bolt upright with alarm. She still hadn’t gotten used to waking up in strange places, even after the past six months of travel. Slowly she got her bearings and remembered where she was. Events from last night crashed into her and she gripped the sheets in a bunch next to her chest. The break-in. And Tank staying in the loft. With her. She didn’t welcome the wave of sadness she felt knowing he’d slept in the other room.

  She pushed the covers aside and shivered. The room was cool. “Where did I put that sweater?” She looked on the rumpled bed for Tank’s old sweater. She found it on the floor and pulled it on, tucking her hands inside the sleeves. She hugged herself to keep the heat in. “Fuck, I hate winter,” she muttered.

  Pepper wandered out to the living room and saw Tank in the kitchen.

  “I won’t.” He had to be on the phone. “Can you just get started on them, please?”

  Pepper glanced out the window to see what the weather was like, not wanting to intrude or eavesdrop on Tank’s conversation. She pulled the colorful throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around herself, desperate for some heat.

  “Don’t worry if I’ve forgiven her or not. It’s too soon to know.” Tank was firm with whomever he was speaking to at the other end. “What? Hate her forever?” He gave a sarcastic laugh. “What I decide is up to me.” Pepper turned and watched him, wondering whom he was talking about. A chill clutched her spine. Hate forever? She had a suspicion he was talking about her. But to whom? It kind of freaked her out that he’d talk behind her back. Not that she didn’t expect him to, she supposed; just hearing him was unnerving. And…hate?

  “I’ll stop by later—,” Tank said and came out of the kitchen and saw her. He stopped dead in his tracks. “I gotta go.” He put the phone in his pocket. No emotion registered on his face. Had she imagined the caring she thought she saw last night after the police left? This new cool—well, not really new, since he’d been emotionally closed off most of the time since she’d arrived—confused her more.

  If he was talking about her, then didn’t that mean he hated and wanted nothing to do with her? Despair consumed her. He hadn’t shown it last night. The hug. His staying in the loft with her while she slept. What had that all meant? Was he feeling obligated? What were his true feelings and had she just heard them now?

  She took a deep breath and tried to digest everything that had happened over the past couple of days. That Tank might harbor an insurmountable grudge was something she’d thought she’d been prepared for. Pepper hadn’t come back looking for drama, yet somehow it found her without any trouble at all. Her plan to simply come home and try to mend fences and get back on her feet didn’t seem to be going all that well. She’d give it a few more days here and if things didn’t turn around then she’d make some hard decisions.

  “Who was that?” she asked him, not really sure she wanted to know or if he’d even tell her.

  “No one. Just business.”

  She nodded, not believing him. But what was she going to do? Question or challenge him and demand that he tell her? It really wasn’t her business, even if it was about her. She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

  “Would you like me to call for a locksmith?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Already done. He’ll be here sometime this afternoon.”

  “I guess that means you want me to stay here and wait for him.” Suddenly she was feeling pissy, let down, rejected, insecure.

  “If you don’t mind. I have to go.” Tank turned and walked to the door.

  “Wait a minute. There has to be something I can do.” She followed him. “I know you’re having a grand opening and I’m happy to help.” Even though she tried to keep her voice neutral, she heard the edge of bitchiness. She forced herself to speak calmly. “What I mean is, I’d like to help out. I obviously have free time, so why not put me to good use?”

  He looked down at her, cold, aloof, and unreadable. Again. She wondered where the Tank from last night had gone.

  “Pretty much everything’s done for that. I have to be somewhere, so if I come up with something else I’ll get back to you later. Right now if you can just wait for the locksmith, that would be great.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  Pepper was dying to get out of the loft, but she couldn’t. Not before the locksmith did his thing. She wanted to get downstairs, get the lay of the land. Maybe even go out and get her ID sorted out. Glancing out the window made her shiver. Never-friggin’-ending snow was so depressing. Would she ever get used to this blasted cold weather again? The few months in Bali had certainly spoiled her.

  Pepper tried not to think of the conversation she’d overheard on the phone. It was easy for her mind to run away with her. She was good at jumping to conclusions. When he wanted to, Tank could be very intimidating. Even she, who knew—correction, had known—him so well, could be pulled up short when he got that way. Tank was all quiet power that brooked no argument sometimes. He’d always had that side to him and she’d known just how far to push it; otherwise she might have pressed a little harder now. He could be scary sometimes, which was why he’d done so well as a fighter. He was good at getting his message across effectively with calm, hushed words followed quickly by a strike, whether physical or verbal. She’d seen it firsthand when she’d pushed him just a little bit too far. No, of course he’d never struck her, but his verbal hits could be just as painful.

  She smiled. Oh yes, she knew she could be difficult, and warmth bloomed in her chest as she remembered how well Tank handled her. During their more heated arguments she gave as good as she got. And the make-up sex. Delicious. He was the only person who ever really got her. Totally understood her. Well, until recently, anyway.

  She needed to chill for a while and distract herself. Get busy with something. Otherwise she’d go stir-crazy. Pepper stood in the doorway of the den and looked around. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it could use a straightening up. She pushed the furniture around. Washed and polished the floor until the hardwood gleamed. She rearranged the furniture to her liking. Pepper checked each piece of furniture to see if it was damaged in any way. It didn’t make any sense for the break-in, but then who knew why people did the things they did?

  A few hours later, when she was satisfied, she stood by the window, arching her back to stretch out the kinks. A bath would be awesome right about now. Shit! She just remembered the locksmith still hadn’t come yet. And she’d have to figure out where to go to get her ID replaced. She groaned, thinking of venturing out in the cold.

  Gazing down to the snowy street below made her miss the tropics even more. She shivered. Not from being cold but from not being hot, like she was used to. The only problem with coming back here was winter. She’d grown used to the tropical weather, sun, and riot of glorious colors. Here everything was gray and dismal. Snow still fell and people hurried along the sidewalks bundled up against the bite of cold. Cars rolled through the increasing slush and the gunmetal sky grew darker. It was just past noon, but the snowy sky made it seem later in the day.

  Memories of spectacular sunsets on warm beaches filled her with a bittersweet longing. She was a tropical sea baby, not a snow bunny. Not for the first time, Pepper wondered if a lifestyle change was in order. If things turned out poorly here, with Tank, then maybe she would move away. For good.

  Right now, stuck in the apartment for the afternoon, she let herself drift on memories of Bali and the lovely people she’d met. Finding her way to the hospice had been a godsend for her. A selfish thought to be sure, but it had been.

  But being home was confusing, more than she thought it would be. Pepper didn’t want to lose the clarity she’d worked so hard to gain, or her new way of looking at life. Once back in the real world, it made her see how hard it could be to hang on to that perspective.

  Even though slightly bewildered by everything, Pepper knew that coming home was the right thing to do. For so many reasons. She moved to the next blind,
closing it against the miserable view of winter. A loud knock at her door made her jump out of her skin. Geez, she was on edge.

  “Who is it?” she called out and walked to the door. She wished there was a peephole to look through.

  “Lucky Locksmith. Here to change the locks, ma’am,” a muffled male voice came from the other side.

  She wound her hair in a knot at the back of her head and pulled the door open.

  “Please, come in.”

  A small wiry man greeted her with a tool kit big enough for a giant. How on earth did such a little guy manage to carry it?

  “It’s this door,” Pepper indicated, stepping back to let him by.

  “Yes, ma’am. I won’t be long, and don’t let me keep you from anything.”

  “Okay, I’ll be in the other room, then.”

  He nodded, and she went back in the den. She was antsy to get out of the loft and couldn’t wait until the locksmith was done so she could go downstairs. It was time to familiarize herself with Octagon.

  Chapter 10

  Tank had a hard time feeling good about what he’d just done. It seemed so final. No coming back. He’d made a fateful decision that set a whole new path in motion. He stood in his office and looked at the envelope in his hands. He’d been so sure about his decision this morning when he’d explained everything to Meg. Now it felt like he’d done something wrong.

  Sliding the papers out, he read them again. Simple and to the point with a considerable check made out to Pepper. His heart jumped when a laugh echoed from the hall. Tank dropped the papers and check on the desk. He hadn’t heard that laugh in so long. Her laugh. It was magical and drew him out of the office. He halted when he saw her in the kitchen.

  Surrounded by a pile of carrots, Pepper bantered back and forth with the cooks. He watched her. She had them laughing, obviously telling them one of her bizarre stories or pieces of useless information. He smiled. She was the queen of useless information, and he teased her about it whenever the opportunity arose. It did constantly surprise him, the shit she knew.