Blind Faith

chapter 8


Nate banded his hands around Audrey’s waist and lifted her, striding through the apartment and into her bedroom, placing her on the bed. This was a mistake. No question, no excuses, he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

He didn’t care. God, he really didn’t care.

Years of loneliness, years of uncertainty, all disappeared in the softness of her touch, in the gardenia scent of her skin.

He was an experiment created in a test tube, maybe without a soul, perhaps without any hope. But for a brief time, with this woman, he’d felt whole. Real. Good. Even if they just had the night, he wanted that feeling again.

Before he sacrificed everything.

He tried to gentle himself as he pulled the skirt from her body. A groan escaped him at the bright pink thong covering her mound. His Audrey had always loved bright colors.

Sliding his thumbs beneath the sides, he drew them down her curvy legs, his heart thumping at the scars. The soft scent of woman hit him, roaring heat between his ears. “I’d forgotten how perfect you are.”

Denial lit her face. “Right.”

He shook his head, reaching down to drag his shirt over his head. The woman had always compared herself to her cold, too-thin, unfeeling mother. She’d never understood that a guy liked curves. “I should’ve shot your mother.”

Audrey’s head jerked. “What a thing to say.”

“Isobel has never treated you right.”

“My mother has her failings, I agree, but she tried. She sent me to the best boarding schools in the world, and she always had a nurturing tutor or two for me when I was home.”

Nate’s eyebrows rose. “Probably to study how nurturing helped you to develop.”

She grinned, the smile tinged with sadness. “More than likely. I know you don’t like her, but she’s still my mother, and I don’t want to talk about her. Especially now.” Audrey glanced at his bare chest and hummed softly.

Fair enough. This was about him and Audrey. So he brushed a finger along her arm. “You’re beautiful.”

She glanced down at her leg lying at an odd angle. “I’m damaged.”

He grinned. “We’re all damaged, baby. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Regret twisted her lip. “Don’t be kind, Nate.”

No problem. Kindness lived nowhere in him. “I’ve missed you.” Damn it. No emotion.

Her eyes darkened to cobalt. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Neither one of them mentioned that they’d never really had each other. Moments made up a life, and Nate could count his on one hand. Real moments, and most involved his brothers. Deep down, he knew this was another one that would shape him.

He couldn’t stop the inevitable, so he gave himself over to it.

Her gaze traced his bare chest with a hunger that made him growl.

“The tattoo is new,” she murmured, eyeing the ink above his heart.

“Yes. Means freedom.” All four of the brothers had gotten the tat the second they’d escaped.

Audrey studied the symbol. “It isn’t Japanese.”

“No. It’s Adrinka.” The brothers all spent time on missions in Africa, and the thick symbol spoke to them. The hours they’d spent in drawing the symbol just right, and the hours they’d spent finding the best tattoo artist around had been treated like the most important mission of their lives.

When they’d all shared the same tattoo, with the same meaning, the time had been worth it.

Nate’s hands shook when he unzipped his jeans and shoved them off his legs. Enough of an ego still lived in him that he smiled when Audrey’s eyes widened.

He wanted to reassure her that he wouldn’t hurt her, but there was no doubt they’d hurt each other. Even so, he needed to make a promise, to be who he needed to be. “I’ll protect you the best I can, Aud.”

She reached for him, feminine knowledge shining bright in her eyes. “I’ve never doubted you.”

Smooth flesh tempted his palms as he skimmed them up her legs, careful of her scars, along her thighs, and over her hips to her torso, each rib a delicate bone he counted. Indulging himself, he nuzzled beneath her breasts, licking a path.

The sound she made went right to his groin.


He’d always loved her fullness. Lifting his head, he placed a gentle kiss on one nipple. Her hips moved restlessly against him, while her hands slid over his shoulder in a light caress. He flicked a nipple, enjoying how her body tightened. When he took her in his mouth, his groan mingled with hers.

Sweet. The woman tasted sweet. Skin shouldn’t have a taste, and neither should nipples. But hers did. Honey and woman.

He’d wondered if his memories played with him. If he’d created his own reality. But he hadn’t. This taste—he remembered it well. Keeping her surrounded by his mouth, he lashed her nipple.

Her nails bit into his shoulders.

Smiling around her, he moved to the other breast, finding it hard and needy. He knew the feeling.

Her sighs and moans rippled through him stronger than any kiss, so he continued his journey up her body. The primal being deep down, the one he often tried to tame, bellowed with hunger. With the need to take—and take hard.

So when he reached her neck, he kissed the vulnerable jugular, wrapped an arm around her waist, and flipped them around.

She yelped and chuckled, settling herself atop of him, knees on either side of his flanks. She wiggled to get her damaged leg into position and sighed in relief. The flesh from her thighs caressed him. A gentle hum whispered from her pink mouth as she leaned forward, running her hands along his chest.

Which left her pretty nipples free.

He reached out to knead, to play, to refamiliarize himself with the sounds she made. Five years ago, he’d been her first, and he’d taught her everything. How many lovers had she enjoyed since then?

His fingers tightened, and she gasped.

No. Their pasts didn’t matter—neither did their futures.

Besides, he’d been taught how to use sex for intimidation and control, and he didn’t want to count how many women he’d bedded. But with Audrey, he’d always been himself. He’d given, and he’d learned that taking was okay and didn’t make him weak. Feeling everything strengthened him as well as the whole experience. Only with Audrey.

God, he’d missed that.

He rolled a nipple and kept control, closely gauging her reactions. Years ago, he’d been overly careful not to hurt the woman he’d put on such a high pedestal. Now, he realized, his woman liked a bite of pain with her pleasure.

Ah, the things he could teach her.

His cock lay heavy and demanding, jutting up over his abs. He lifted her, setting her cleft along his length. They both groaned at the contact, and wetness slicked along his shaft.

She paused, her back arching. “I, ah, don’t think I can take you like this. You’re too big.”

Too much need roared through him to allow her to set the pace, anyway. Keeping her gaze, he slid his hand down her torso to reach the tight knot of her *oris.

She gasped and gyrated against him. “I don’t think I can wait.”

That made two of them. But he’d dreamed of this moment for five lonely, long years, and he had to prolong it as much as possible. “You remember our first time?” he asked, brushing his thumb along the little bundle of nerves.

“Yes.” She gasped, arching against his thumb, her head falling back.

“I was so afraid I’d hurt you,” he murmured, pinching gently with two fingers.

She made a sound full of need and demand. Her eyes fluttered closed, the graceful line of her neck exposed. “You didn’t hurt me. It was amazing.”

He’d hurt her a little, which was inevitable, and even causing her that simple pain had broken his heart. “I dream about that night sometimes, and it’s like I’m back in that moment. Until I wake up alone.” He dreaded the heartache that followed upon waking fully each time. But now wasn’t the time for emotion or regrets. There’d be plenty of moments for pain later.

Her eyelids flipped open, and her eyes softened. “Me too.” Dropping forward, she scraped her nails down his chest, her sex grinding along his shaft. “Now, Nate.” To emphasize her point, she pinched his nipple.

He smiled, reached up, and pinched hers.

She gasped, and her body shuddered. Sexy and feminine. Desire darkened her eyes to nearly black.

Desperate with the need to taste her, he wound a hand around her neck and drew her down. She sighed against his lips, and he took over. Holding her in place, his mouth covered hers, and he delved deep, demanding what he needed.

She was the only woman in the world who’d ever taken him outside of himself and away from his bloody life. The effort to touch her physically without allowing his emotions to reawaken strained his muscles, but he had no choice. Plus, she’d left him. Maybe this was only sex to her.

If so, he’d take the moment and keep it.

Her mouth responded to him with sweet fire. So he went even deeper, angling her head for better access.

Thunder cracked outside, and he ignored the sound. The woman destroyed him, always had, and pretending he gave a shit about the world right now would require concentration.

His was entirely centered on the little wildcat digging her nails into his shoulders and rubbing her * along his dick. Sensations bombarded him from every direction, all smelling like gardenias and feeling like pure heaven.

She levered back, her lips hovering over his, her breath heating his mouth. “Please, Nate.”

He’d never been able to deny her. Instinct and need took over, but he’d never hurt her. “Tell me if I’m too much,” he ordered hoarsely. Flipping them back over, he covered her and quickly nabbed a condom from his discarded jeans and rolled it into place.

Her slim fingers curled over his shoulders, and she widened her legs, arching up against him.

It was too fast. Yet he paused at her entrance and slowly tried to enter her. Tight. Hot. Wet. So damn wet. He made it almost an inch in before she stiffened. So he kissed her, going deep, withdrawing and then working himself back in.

Her nails bit into his flesh.

“You’re tight,” he whispered, the roaring of his blood filling his ears. He’d forgotten her fragility or the desperate need it created in him to protect and defend. The muscles in his biceps and triceps vibrated as he held himself back, as he held himself in check.

She chuckled, need filling the sound. “It’s been five years, Nate.”

He paused, his head jerking up. His heart thumped. Hard. “What?”

Confusion and then alarm crossed her face. Her mouth worked, but no sound emerged. She gave an apologetic half shrug, scraping her nipples against his chest.

He shook his head, the world silencing. She couldn’t have meant… “Five years since we were together,” he said, making sense of the moment.

She blinked, the thoughts smoldering across her face, in her expressive eyes.

His dick swelled, only halfway to home. “Audrey. You haven’t been with anybody else?” How was that even possible?

She sighed and widened her legs, bringing her knees up. “No.”

The world screeched to a full stop. What did that mean? Had she hoped they’d get back together? “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. I’ve been busy.” Shields drew over her eyes, keeping him out.

Everything in him wanted to push for an answer—to understand. Being inside her felt real and right. The thought that the moment might mean as much to her stole his breath. But even so, he’d lose her again.

Without question.

And that hurt more than the stab wound he’d once taken to the kidney. “Audrey—”

“Enough talk.” She arched against him and tightened her internal muscles.


His ears burned as she gripped his cock like a vise. The idea that he was the only man to have touched her, to have taken her, spurred the beast inside him to life. There was no holding back. Clamping her hip, his mouth covered hers, kissing her with more emotion than he’d ever be able to express.

His body took over. With a hard shove, he plunged inside her. She cried out into his mouth, her eyes widening, her body arching.

She took a deep breath, blinked several times, and relaxed into the bed. “Wow.”

Heated, internal walls clenched him fiercely, enclosing hard enough he needed to pound. Even his back muscles tensed when he held himself still. This was Audrey. “Are you all right?”

She smiled and scooted her butt even farther down. “Yes. Now move.”

No further encouragement was needed. He slid out and back in, the incredible heat caressing his length. Home. He was finally f*cking home.

Slowly, watching her closely, he increased his pace, fighting everything he was to be gentle.

She sighed and met his thrusts. Passion glazed her eyes in an expression of trust and vulnerability. He needed her to remember him. Even if he died in three weeks, he needed to bury himself so deeply inside her that a part of him always lived there.

Fear had no place between them, and yet it nearly choked him. She was the one person he’d truly been himself with, and she had to keep a thought of him alive. He had to matter to somebody.

The power she still held over him should have given him pause, but not right now. Not when his body covered hers, when her sighs mixed with his, when those sharp nails bit into his skin.

Now was for feeling.

Harder, faster, he began to pound, gauging her, making sure he didn’t hurt her. Holding back, yet still experiencing as close to heaven as he’d ever reach. She bit her lip, need shimmering in her eyes. “Nate.”

At his name, he closed his eyes and thrust even harder. How many times had he awoken the last five years to the sound of his name on her lips, only to find the bed empty? Electricity danced down his spine, sparking his balls. He needed this. Needed her.

Reaching down, he brushed her *. He remembered exactly how she liked to be touched, rough and fast. “Now, Audrey.”

She arched, screamed his name, and came with a rippling inside her that held him tight, demanding his own release. He shoved hard into her, hitting her G-spot, prolonging her orgasm until she whimpered in surrender.

Then he exploded.





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