Bombshell

She giggled at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Merrick asked, his voice edging on vulnerable.

Bombshell stiffened, her confidence ripped away. Had she just hurt his feelings? Was he thinking she been giggling at him? You idiot. Never laugh after having sex, especially the first time. She shook herself. That wasn’t the first time, you idiot—you’re engaged, for crying out loud. Of course, you’ve already had sex. But, the more she thought about it, the more it upset her. She’d undoubtedly experienced that Merrick’s prize-winning cock before, and yet it felt like the first time. Why couldn’t she remember any of it? You have amnesia, she reminded herself.

“Why did you laugh?” Merrick said. There was no doubt about it. He sounded hurt. Damn it. What could she possibly say? What man wanted to hear that his cock was so forgettable?

“Oh, nothing,” Bombshell said, trying to sound nonchalant. She turned over, giving him her back. She didn’t want him to see the sadness in her eyes. Amnesia sucks. My whole life, I dream of falling in love, and when it finally happens, I can’t remember any of it. She chewed on her lip and sniffed back more threatening tears.

Behind her, Bombshell felt Merrick’s body scooch up behind her, until he was flat against her, spooning her. Despite her depressing thoughts, she couldn’t help but sigh with pleasure as his fingers began blazing a trail across the slope of her rib cage, down to the deep well of her waist. His member, while now soft, was still large and hot as it pressed against her buttocks. Her body reacted, oblivious to the sadness, and she moaned as his fingertips slid along down the slope of her body. Every cell in her body sizzled with heat from his touch and sent sparks of electricity through her. Tears stung at her eyes. Had it been like this the first time he’d touched her? How could she not remember? She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and she let out a sob.

“Sweetheart,” Merrick said, his voice full of concern. “What’s the matter? Don’t get sad on me, I won’t allow it.”

She felt him slide an arm under her, between her waist and the bed, and soon he was holding her, embracing her, hugging her as they lay on their sides together.

“Feel better now?” he asked. She was melting into him, allowing herself to let go of the sad thoughts, when suddenly he gripped her tight and rolled over, taking her with him so quickly her stomach flipped.

“What are you doing?” Bombshell said gleefully as soon as she stopped laughing.

“Just keeping you close, where you can’t get away.”

Chapter Twelve

As Merrick settled himself onto the bed, he put his hands on her hips and tried to adjust her so that she lay perfectly in the middle of his torso. A flicker of apprehension rippled through Bombshell’s mind. Was she worried about falling? Bombshell tried to enjoy the fun playtime with her fiancé, but when his hands came around and held her tight, trapping her, something broke inside her and panic rioted within.

With a shiver of vivid recollection, her surroundings changed. She was in a cold, pitch-dark room, lying in the exact same position, on a bed, on top of something, tied to it, forced to be on it.

Bile rose in her throat as the memory of the smell flooded her nostrils. Then icy fear twisted around her heart, and her claws came out and her body jerked to the rhythm of her screams. She had to get away.

Merrick’s heart leapt into his throat as his beautiful Bombshell suddenly went Tasmanian devil on top of him. Before he realized what was happening, she’d managed to claw and bite her way out of his grasp. At first he laughed and held on, thinking she was just playing, but as she drew blood and the screams erupting from her throat assured him that this wasn’t a game, he pulled himself out from under her and stared in shock at the look of utter hatred in her eyes.

His heart pounded. “What’s wrong? Bombshell?”

She cowered away from him.

“Bombshell, what is it? Calm down, please.” Merrick tried to approach her, slowly, like he was trying to save an animal caught in a trap. He reached for her, but she screamed and slashed at his hands. He put his hands up in surrender and tried to calm her. “I won’t touch you. I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The words tightened in his throat as realization dawned.

She was in pain. He’d hurt her.

A nauseating sense of despair filled his being. Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

She was in the corner now, where the bed had been pushed by the wall. She grabbed the blanket and held it up to her neck, hiding her face and her body away from him as she cowered against the wall.

Merrick couldn’t look at her. He wanted to throw up. He’d never hurt anyone in his life, and now this. He cared about that woman so much, and now he’d broken her. He was disgusting. He should be shot, then hanged, and then tarred and feathered.

She moaned and rocked and shivered beneath the covers.

“Oh God, oh God,” Merrick said out loud as he paced the room and pulled at his hair. “Jesus!” What should I do? Should I take her to the hospital? What would I say when I got there? Excuse me, doctors, but this pretty young woman has been damaged by my freakily too-large dick? Here’s a bunch of money—can you fix her?

The sound of a horn honking outside startled him, then gave him a jolt of hope. Thank God. It had to be Joann and Charlie. He ran through the open French door and onto the balcony before realizing that he was stark naked. He spun around, hoping they hadn’t noticed him in his birthday suit, and bounced and tripped, cursing as he tried to dress in his jeans and t-shirt. Finally decent, he rushed back to the balcony and leaned clear over the edge. Joann was pulling things out of her car just below him, and Charlie was standing next to the rental car he’d been sent to Linton to pick up. Behind him, Bombshell let out another anguished cry, and Merrick remembered what he needed to do.

“Joann,” Merrick shouted to get her attention. “Get up here, there’s something’s wrong with Bombshell.”

Her head snapped up in surprise, and she blocked the sun with her hand. “Merrick, what’s happened?”

“I don’t know. She’s not telling me,” Merrick said. Merrick chided himself for being a coward. He had done this to her. He should be prepared to face the music and not take the coward’s way out and pretend he’d had nothing to do with it.