Her words all but probed a man into a mission. His stormy eyes glittered with lust and love, maybe even appreciation. After all this time, maybe he had needed her to open the first door. She’d certainly slammed it in his face once before.
She’d known, but she’d realized too late, what marrying Denny had cost him. She’d heard the stories about his drinking, his depression, and while she didn’t see a depressed man now, she definitely saw a changed person, a man who had loved and lost and had found the necessary survival skills to make it from one day to the next.
What she’d witnessed in Allister McCall was nothing more than a defense mechanism. He wanted to love her but he would not risk another broken heart.
“I don’t want easy either, Ellie.” He went to her then without slowing his stride. He cupped her face with calloused hands and lowered his mouth to hers. Stealing away with one kiss and then another, he whispered against her lips. “I’ve always wanted you, Ellie.”
“Then show me.” A shattering cry hung in her lungs as he pulled her against him. “Don’t leave me, Allister. Stay right here and love me the way I needed you to love me so many years ago.”
Chapter Four
When Allister looked at Ellie, he didn’t see her as a victim. He saw her as a seductress, the vixen who had crooked her little finger back and forth and dared him with, “Show me what cha got, baby.”
He’d shown her all right, but if he’d been a smarter boy way back then, he would’ve taken their first kiss and made it count. She would’ve given away the first of many kisses only to him and he would’ve been her first love, her greatest and her only.
Instead, he only had bragging rights to the kiss, but that kiss had seared his brain, scorched his soul. Her lips had painted a reminder in his mind’s eye and he still recalled that hot summer night when he’d taken her behind her daddy’s barn and had nearly come in his pants when they’d kicked things up a notch, grinding and groping.
“Those lips are my lips,” he rasped, ducking his head and taking a heated kiss. He thrust his tongue inside her sweet mouth, savoring their connection, the way her tongue thrummed across his.
She slowly backed away from him. “Our very first kiss must have left an impression.” She ran her hands from his chest to his neck. Wrapping her arms around him, she bit down on her bottom lip and rubbed her crotch all over his pounding erection. “Deny you were thinking about it.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Pretty much,” she crooned, rocking against him. She moved with the grace and elegance of a ballet dancer while tilting her head to the side and seemingly watching for expression changes or perhaps waiting for him to utter a provocative promise.
Ellie was so damned pretty and too sexy for her own good, which explained why his buddies wanted her. They’d admired her from afar and then when they’d taken her to the cabin two years ago, they’d professed those desires, their lust and fantasies. Now, they all had a specific image in their head, a fond recollection none of them would ever shake.
Sharing the woman he loved wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but at the same time, Allister and his brothers and friends also shared a similar vision. They wanted Trouble, Tennessee to become the model city, a safe haven others would later emulate. And that required hard work and sacrifice. It was one of many reasons why they’d long since decided an unconventional relationship made perfect sense. Caring for a woman was far more manageable when men with other obligations shared one woman deserving of true love.
All women deserved a happy life, but in Trouble, their women were treated like queens. Trouble had started out as a joint venture between men who recognized a need for intervention as the domestic violence crisis in East Tennessee set staggering numbers. Now, Allister wondered if his goals hadn’t been entirely selfish.
Had his objectives always been motivated by his love for one woman? Had his need to help abused women and children somehow stemmed from the idea that one day Ellie would knock on the gatekeepers’ doors?
Sultry memories played out in his head and his cock stretched against her warm snatch. He caressed her hair, loving the silken strands, the way she shivered from his touch.
He remembered how sensitive she’d been the first night they’d taken her together. She’d been so ticklish and even when his darkest hours were only passing minutes he’d endured all alone, he had often recalled her hips jerking, her little smile urging him on. He’d imagined them in the cabin, how the others had looked on as he’d ran his tongue from her knee to her thigh, finding her sweet spot and just loving the daylights out of her.
“And now you’re thinking about all of us together at your dad’s cabin.”
“Ah, so there it is. The truth finally comes out. You read minds, not expressions.”
“The dirtier the thought the easier you are to read.” She wet her full lips and that was pretty much the end of him then.
“What am I thinking now?” He longed to taste her. He wanted to spread her out on the bed and go down on her, love and enjoy her, ravage her body and heal her spirit.
“I want whatever you want, Allister.” Her lips skimmed the shell of his ear and he felt her smile against his cheek as she trailed her kiss back to his lips and down his neck. “How many ways does a woman have to say she wants to get laid before a man makes good on some old promises?”
“You don’t want to get laid.” He pushed her to the bed, careful to brace his own fall as he towered over her and quickly disposed of her pajamas. God help him then because he couldn’t help himself.
He stared at her rounded breasts, her firm nipples. “You want to be loved, Ellie.” He stalled at the sight of her, remembering the way she’d arched in his arms as he’d driven his cock inside her.
God help him. He clumsily unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, thankful he didn’t have to wrestle free a belt or tug off his boots.
He’d slept beside her all morning and never so much as touched her inappropriately and yet here he was now, certain he would die if he didn’t drive his fingers inside her, caress and pamper her, stretch and prepare her, for him and later for them. The others would soon realize he was missing and they would be coming for her.
He skimmed her stomach, attentive of the prickly stitches, aware of the reasons why she was on the bed there, spread out in front of him.
Her ex-husband had abused her. He’d struck her with blunt objects. He’d pounded his fists against her pretty face. He’d tried to gut her as if she were no better than a wild animal, and his latest stunt topped them all.