Rogue's Passion Page 13

  “Is that so? Then I guess I have it on right.”

  He applied a little more pressure to the toy and she just about lost it. Every nerve ending sizzled and bright points of light flashed like stars behind her eyelids. She gripped his forearm, right below where his hand was touching her.

  “Oh God, Ash. I’m seriously coming.”

  He mumbled something about the fact that the toy could be used during intercourse and suddenly she felt several of his fingers slipping inside. Powerful waves of pleasure crashed over her, one right after the other. She wasn’t sure when one stopped and another started or maybe it was all just one long, continuous orgasm. The world seriously could’ve ended and she wouldn’t have noticed.

  Leaving the toy in place, he stood, adjusted her panties and skirt, and pressed his lips to hers. “I take it my little gift works?”

  “It was pretty amazing,” Olivia breathed against his mouth, clutching his shoulders.

  He gave her one final peck. “Now, come on. I want to get there when it opens and it’s a long drive.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Does Reckless ever have events like this?” Olivia bit into an ear of roasted corn.

  Asher noticed a drip of butter on her chin, so he wiped it away with his finger. “This is just a demonstration, but Rand does host a qualifying race in the summer where the top finishers advance to the semifinals.”

  A rider from Spokane was on the dirt course right now. One of the biggest jumps was directly in front of where they were sitting in the bleachers. At the apex, the kid did a superman, kicking his legs straight out behind him.

  “Holy shit,” Olivia said, laughing as the crowd erupted in cheers.

  When the rider in blue and white gear landed his bike safely on the other side of the jump, he touched a glove to his helmet, thanking the audience. They cheered even louder and the bleachers vibrated with their pounding feet. Someone had clearly taught that kid some manners.

  Later, as Asher spoke to a sales rep from Samson Brothers, Olivia’s hand tightened around his. He cast a quick glance in her direction as the heavyset guy was telling him about their new line of volt meters. She was biting her lips and her delicate nostrils were slightly flared. Was she having another orgasm or trying to control one? That little toy was turning out to be worth its weight in gold.

  “Doing okay, lass?” he asked after they left the sales tent. He brushed a thumb over her lips.

  “That was number seven.” She threaded her fingers through his, subtly moving them in and out in a slow rhythm that would match the pace of lovemaking.

  He groaned, his cock thickening at the thought of making love to her again. She was undoubtedly primed for him right now, coated in a luxurious silkiness. He’d be able to push himself into her warmth with no foreplay. Hell, the whole day had been foreplay. He’d been walking around at half-mast much of the time thanks to her. At every stop, she stroked the back of his hand with feather-light touches. As they walked, she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and kneaded the top of his butt cheek. When they waited in line for cotton candy, she’d whispered in his ear that she wanted to “fuck you so bad right now.”

  Another group of vendors was located on the other side of the exhibitor parking lot. It was starting to get dark, so they took a shortcut through the sea of trailers and tents to get there before all the booths were closed. As he started across an open area, she suddenly grabbed his hand and shoved him against the back of a trailer. Her lips were against his and her hands were unzipping his fly.

  “Olivia—”

  “Don’t you even,” she said, nipping his lower lip. “You started this. I haven’t been able to concentrate on hardly anything. All I can think about is having you inside me.”

  “A good problem to have,” he growled.

  She produced a condom from somewhere and he was quickly sheathed. Jumping up, she wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself onto him. He’d been expecting to feel the toy, but didn’t.

  “Where…is…it?” he asked as he drove into her heat.

  “My purse. Didn’t want the condom to rip.”

  He kept one palm braced on the trailer next to her head while the other cupped her ass. She made these breathy little sounds in his ear with every thrust of his hips, driving him mad with desire. He grunted, and the toe-curling friction around his cock had him almost ready to—

  Laughter came from the other side of the trailer and they heard the door opening.

  Olivia’s whole body froze.

  “Potential discovery is one of the hazards of having sex in public.”

  “Shhh.” And then another sexy sound, quieter this time, came from her lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders. “I’m…I’m coming.”

  Her inner walls clenched him even tighter. The friction was unbearable and the dam of pressure broke. Holding onto her perfect ass to keep himself seated deep inside her, he groaned into her hair as he came.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was late when they arrived back at Reckless. When Olivia checked her messages, their plans to stay in the next day and play with their new toy changed, but it got plenty of use that night.

  “I’d say we’ve gotten our money’s worth already,” Asher said as he pulled her close and fell asleep.

  The iron arch of Grass Lawn Cemetery stretched above them as they drove through the entryway the next day. Olivia shivered, but not because she was cold. These places always reminded her of the day her father died and of her failure to save him.

  Marco’s wife had left a message on her cell, letting her know about the funeral services this afternoon. She didn’t want to go, but Marco had been a great guy and taken a chance on her. It wouldn’t have been right to skip it.

  Asher parked behind a long string of cars. “Doing okay?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  She smiled. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  He’d been in the garage that morning, working on some kid’s motocross bike, when she’d asked if she could borrow his car for a few hours to attend the funeral. She was surprised when he told her he wanted to come with her.

  She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt better around him, as if she were more capable of handling things that would normally drain her mentally. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, unlike when she healed others, doing the same for Asher hadn’t exhausted her. He took nothing away from her, thereby leaving her strong.

  “You bet,” he said, smiling.

  She glanced down when her cell phone buzzed. It was a reminder that she had a voicemail message she hadn’t listened to yet. And she wasn’t going to, either. She tucked the phone back in her purse.

  Along with Sandy’s message, there had been several from David, saying he needed her forwarding address to send her last paycheck. No way in hell was she returning that call or telling him where she lived, even though she was moving soon. He didn’t owe her any money. The message was a ploy to get her to call him, and when she did, he’d threaten to expose her if she didn’t come back to work for him and his underground fighting ring.

  She and Asher stood near the back, just barely under the awning. Rows of chairs filled with Marco’s family and friends surrounded a gleaming walnut coffin in the middle. She smelled the soil of the freshly dug grave underneath the square of AstroTurf, but couldn’t see any dirt. Guess it made death more palatable not to see the gaping hole that would soon contain the body of their loved one.

  After the pastor talked about Marco’s life and read a few passages of scripture, he opened up the podium for family and friends to say what was on their hearts. Almost every person mentioned something about the brutal barbarians being brought to justice. Asher remained stiff and she slipped her hand into his, squeezing it slightly.

  If only they knew the truth.

  A man next to them leaned over, interrupting her thoughts. “And to think that some people don’t believe there’s another world beyond the portals. Ha.”


  After he faced forward again, Asher looked at her quizzically.

  She cupped her hand over his ear. “There’s a whole movement of people who say the other world is a figment dreamed up by the nonreligious over here to explain their fixation on the supernatural. They’re conspiracy theorists who believe the government is behind the attacks in order to perpetuate a secular lie to keep people scared.”

  “They got a couple of things right,” he growled.

  A lump formed in her throat when an older man, who she assumed was Sandy’s father, put his arm protectively around the young woman. After most of the people had filed past to pay their respects, Olivia made her way to the front, planning to make it short and sweet. She hadn’t known Marco for very long, but she wanted Sandy to know she had come.

  “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t think she was going to cry, but she felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes anyway. Then the words just gushed out of her. “I wish I could have done something. Anything. If only I hadn’t been locked in the cellar, I might have been able to…help him.”

  “Of course there was nothing you could’ve done,” Sandy said. “At least you were downstairs when the blast hit. I only wish Marco had been with you. They told me that he…that it happened instantly. There wouldn’t have been anything you could’ve done anyway.”

  Not true. There was plenty that I could’ve done if I’d gotten out in time. He didn’t have to die.

  A spark of indignation flared in her gut. Maybe she couldn’t expose the truth. That would be too dangerous. But she could damn well help those the army chose to hurt. A vigilante healer. She pictured herself continuing her self-defense training and learning the skills necessary to stay out of the army’s reach. If Asher could do it all these years, then so could she.

  “I’m sorry,” Sandy said to her, “but it looks like I’ll be closing the store.”

  Olivia wasn’t surprised. “Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’d do the same thing, I’m sure.”

  “It means you’ll be out of a job, though, and I feel terrible.” Sandy’s black dress had an empire waist, cap sleeves, and decorative stitching around the simple scoop neckline. It was the kind of dress that should’ve been worn to the opera or symphony, not to a husband’s funeral.

  The lump in her throat was painful now. Olivia wanted to tell her she’d already found another job, but since this was the first time she’d heard the store wasn’t reopening, she didn’t want Sandy to think she’d gone out instantly after the explosion and looked for work.

  She was touched by the woman’s selfless concern at a time when she’d lost so much. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be just fine.”

  “Even if everything gets rebuilt, I just can’t bear to keep it open. It was Marco’s dream. I know nothing about wine. God, he loved that place.”

  Olivia thought about the time he’d spent polishing that imported wine rack. He’d been so proud of it. “Yeah, he sure did.”

  “Oh,” Sandy said, putting a hand up to her forehead. “I almost forgot. Your uncle came by asking about you.”

  “My…my uncle?” She didn’t have an uncle.

  “He said you hadn’t called in after the explosion and that the family was worried about you. He wanted to know if I knew where you were or where he could find you.”

  Oh my God. David? Had he found her? But she’d been so careful. Or maybe the man had stopped at the wrong business, which would be easy to do with all the chaos. Given that all the storefronts on Fifth Avenue had been blown out and most of the signage gone, one business was probably indistinguishable from the next. Maybe he thought he was at the card and souvenir shop next door. Or the map store. Or the quirky place down the street that sold organic hemp-blend fragrances.

  “It’s fine,” Olivia said quickly, not wanting to burden Sandy with such a mundane issue. It was the last thing the woman needed to be concerned about. “I talked to my mom and she knows I’m okay.”

  She became aware of Asher’s hand on her shoulder. Yes, it was time to go. She didn’t need to monopolize any more of Sandy’s time.

  “You’ve got to understand,” the woman said. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t remember where you lived even though I handle the books.”

  Olivia didn’t understand. Why was she so distraught? Maybe little things turned into big things when one’s husband suddenly died.

  “I told him I didn’t have your contact info. All that information was at the store, if it hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion.”

  “Wait,” Asher said, speaking for the first time. “This man…he came to your house asking about Olivia? Not to the wine shop?”

  Sandy shook her head furiously and held up her hands like a barricade. “I haven’t been there. I don’t think I can bear to set foot near where…” She began to cry and her father put his arm around her.

  “I think it’s time to go,” he said.

  “Okay, Daddy, hold on.” Sandy wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, he came to the house.”

  Her father shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “He actually wanted my daughter to go through Marco’s things looking for it.”

  “I only found your number when I was planning…this.”

  Olivia felt as if someone had just punched her in the gut. All the air disappeared from her lungs and she could hardly breathe. Why would a man claiming to be her uncle come to Marco and Sandy’s house looking for her? How would he even know where they lived?

  “He didn’t leave his name?” Olivia asked, her voice thin and reedy.

  Confused, Sandy blinked. “His name? No. He just said he was your uncle.”

  “She’s got several uncles.” Asher’s sidelong glance told Olivia to just go with it.

  “Then it’s got to be my Uncle Ray,” she blurted out. “He used to be in the army and hasn’t been the same after the accident. So sorry he came to you at such a difficult time.” She was surprised at how easily the lies always came.

  “That makes sense, then,” Sandy said, shaking her head slowly. “All those terrible scars.”

  * * *

  “Maybe you should back off,” Rand said after Asher told him about what had happened at the funeral. “Remove yourself from her life.”

  The fact that a man with facial scars was looking for Olivia could mean only one thing. It had to be the same man they called the Fixer, the one the army used to track Iron Guild warriors on this side of the portal. The one who had killed Fallon.

  Inside the Grape and Bean, the guy from AIU had almost implied that Asher could’ve been the one who set the bomb. They probably checked him out, discovered he wasn’t who he claimed to be, and now they had their suspect. The army just needed the Fixer to find him.

  And one of the ways they would try to find him was through Olivia because they’d been seen together.

  “There’s nothing to break off,” Asher said. “We agreed beforehand that this was a one-week proposition. Nothing more.”

  Rand grabbed a wrench and reached back under the hood of the car. “You’re falling for her and you know it.”

  “That’s bullshit.” He was lying through his teeth, but there was no way in hell he’d admit that to anyone.

  “So you don’t have feelings for her?”

  “I enjoy her company, sure, but there’s nothing special between us.” He leaned against the workbench and ran a hand through his hair. He wished that were true, and maybe if he said it enough, he’d believe it. “We’re fucking. That’s it. End of story.”

  “Yeah, like newlyweds,” Rand mumbled. He straightened and pointed the wrench at him. “When have you ever brought anyone back here with you? Hold on. Let me answer that. Hmmm. Let’s see. That would be…never.”

  “That’s because—”

  “That’s because where you’re from, you only invite a woman to move in with you when it’s serious. I know all about your betrothal customs, so don’t try to bullshit me. It’s ingrained in your subconscious. Yo
u wouldn’t have brought her here if there wasn’t something pretty fucking special going on.”

  Asher was taken aback. He hadn’t thought about that before, but Rand was right. In Cascadia, when a man invited a woman into his home to share his bed, it was often seen as a betrothal. Hell, he hadn’t even done that with Jenny. They’d always gone to her place. “I hardly knew her when I brought her here. How can there be something special going on when you barely know the person?”

  The guy shrugged. “How the hell should I know? But facts are facts. Listen. I don’t mean to be an asshole here. It’s your life, but I want to make sure you do the right thing and not—”

  “I don’t need you to remind me what happened to Jenny,” Asher said, gripping the edge of the workbench with white knuckles.

  “Well, you’re sure not acting like it.”

  “Good thing I’m leaving soon, then.”

  Rand grabbed another tool and ducked back under the hood. “For how long?”

  “I don’t know. Long enough for my trail to go cold over here.”

  “That’s good.” Rand straightened and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. “Because I’ve offered to let her stay in the RV until she can find a place over here. Depending on how long you’re gone this time, Mel could be back by then and Olivia will have found a new job. I’ll have James help move her things from her apartment.”

  “James?” Asher jerked his head up and slanted a glance toward the body shop entrance. The guy was too bloody unstable to be spending all that time alone with Olivia.

  “Got a problem with that?” Rand asked carefully.

  The guy was always defending his cousin, but Asher didn’t care. He didn’t want Olivia alone with him. No fucking way.

  “Yeah, I do. The guy’s a fucking mess. I’ll help her move and then I’ll leave. Just keep him away from her.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Olivia’s apartment was located on the second floor of a three-story building that contained five other units. All of them had outside entrances and were accessed by a single, enclosed stairway in the center. Despite the fact that the man who lived across the hall was gone because he worked nights and the elderly couple below were heavy sleepers, Asher was still on edge.