Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) (19 page)

“About what? How to drink yourself to death? Give me the bottle, and no one gets hurt.”

He glared at her. “No.”

“If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to have to take it. If I do that, someone’s going to get hurt. By someone, in case you’re too drunk to figure it out, I meant you.”

He leaned against the door frame and didn't move. “Make me.”

Elizabeth had never seen this side of him before. Yes, they’d all gotten buzzed on beer, but Ethan never went too far. He was way too civilized for that. When he drank, much like everything else, it was all about being in control.

This was proof that his cage was rattled.

He had apparently lost his damn mind.

“Your job is saved. We’ve worked it out. It’s time to get you some coffee, dump your mistress, Jack, and get back to work.”

He didn't move.

“I think I told you to leave. I want to be alone. I don’t need you here playing fucking mommy to me.”

Well, someone was a nasty drunk. Maybe this was why he didn't get shitfaced more often.

Elizabeth didn't doubt that the stress and anger were twisting him up. Then again, a half a fifth of Jack wouldn’t help either.

She went to grab the bottle, and a tug-o-war ensued. When Ethan wrenched it from her grip and took another slug, she opted to play dirty.

She knocked it from his lips.

He got angry.

“I told you to get out of here!”

“Make me,” she taunted, standing her ground. There was no way she was going to let him drink himself into a comma. Yeah, not on her freaking watch. They had kids, and she didn't need to tell them daddy was dead.

Bull shit!

It wasn’t happening.

“I’m angry. If you know what’s best for you, then you’ll get out of here before I lose it,” he insisted.

Elizabeth knew what he needed. Moving closer, she stood toe to toe with him. Instead of her lips meeting his, she shoved him.

“You’re drunk and a mess. I don’t like this in the men I’m married to, and you should know better.”

He stumbled back.

Across his face, there were so many emotions. Elizabeth knew she was playing with fire, but she had to trust him. Underneath it all, this was Ethan.

He loved her.

Right?

It was a split second before he attacked. He shoved her, pushing her back on the bed. The rage was there, and so was all the pain. Elizabeth struggled to get back on her feet only to be taken to the floor. They rolled around, her trying to get him in control. If she could cuff him, she would.

When Ethan pinned her to the ground, she stared up at him. He was gone. The calm man beneath was pulled under, and in his place was someone fraught with anger.

She watched him slip the zipper down on his dress pants. There was no doubt what was coming next.

Struggling to get out from beneath him, he pulled his erection from his pants.

“I warned you to leave. I told you to give me space.”

Yes, he’d warned her.

She never saw it coming to this.

“Now I’m going to do something I can’t control.”

Elizabeth stared up at him. “Ethan,” she said, her voice showing no fear. “Come back to me.”

He blocked it out. What he wanted and needed were far stronger than what he knew to be right. The man he was slipped away, and his past came back. The unrefined man, beneath the veneer, fought back to the surface and had him by the balls.

Ethan didn't wait.

Instead, he grabbed her head and slipped his erection between her lips. As he sat on her chest, she couldn’t get up.

Instead, he was able to use her mouth.

It was hard.

Brutal.

And a part of him knew it was wrong.

As he used the woman he loved, he was so angry. What he wanted to do was destroy the room around him. It was like he was watching this all unfold outside his body.

Instead of stopping, he pulled his erection free. She wasn’t speaking, and he took it as his opportunity to get lost in her. Sliding down her body, he ripped her shirt open.

There was a gasp.

He didn't know if it was from him or her, but as soon as he had her chest bared, he went back to pinning her arms, this time above her head.

“I told you to leave,” he whispered over and over. “But you never listen. You had to stay, and now I’m going to regret this tomorrow.”

She hurt for him.

His words echoed in the silence of the room.

Ethan’s blue-black eyes glittered with tears and something deadly. Before she could speak, he attacked again.

He began biting her. From her collarbone to her breasts, he left marks. A part of him could hear her responding to his assault, but the stronger part was winning out.

When he came to her stomach, he tried to remember why he should be gentle, but he couldn’t.

Instead, while holding her wrists above her head with one hand, he ripped her jeans open, and tugged them down her legs.

Again, there was another gasp.

It didn't stop him.

Instead, it urged him on. He needed to bury himself in her body, so he could let the pain go. His brother and wife were marked, he’d lost control, punching a man, and the asshole who wanted his wife was back.

It was all too much to bear.

When he ripped her panties off, he didn't care that her legs were tangled in her jeans. All he cared about was finding his way back to sanity.

In his head, there was that voice telling him to take her. It warred with his heart, but it won.

God help him.

It won.

Slamming himself into her, he stared down into Elizabeth’s face.

Everything was blurry.

Everything felt wrong.

Yet, he couldn’t stop. He was drowning in the pain, and instinctually, he knew she was the only one who could help him.

“Save me,” he whispered, right before he raped his wife.

She didn't know what to say.

She’d never seen him this way before, but the more he fought, the more Elizabeth knew she had to be there for him. When he drove his erection into her mouth, she offered him peace. The taste and feel of him gliding across her tongue was enough to heat her body.

While he was out of control, and that was scary, this was still Ethan, and his touch drove her crazy.

Whether he knew it or not, he was still offering her pleasure. He was no rougher than Callen had been countless times, and she was wet from the way he manhandled her.

This was new, and it was incredibly hot.

As he ripped open her shirt, goosebumps raced across her flesh. There was never a more delicious feeling than Ethan stripping her bare.

When he tugged up the bra, setting her breasts free, she was in heaven.

When he bit her, it was sensory overload.

God!

She wanted to roll, placing him on the bottom. If he wasn’t buried in her soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. While he held her hands trapped in his, she could get free.

Only, she never wanted to be.

She begged him to do it, but he didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he was staring down at her stomach, lost in that momentary thought.

Then he forced her jeans down her legs. They tangled around her boots, making her even more of a prisoner. It caused her blood pressure to shoot up, and she longed to run her nails down his back.

God!

She wanted to feel him.

When he tore her panties off, ripping them from her body and into shreds, she wanted him buried in her. Elizabeth struggled to get her legs apart so he could find a place between them.

If he didn't finish this off soon, she’d go crazy.

Then she felt the nudge of erection.

It was happening.

Elizabeth wanted to sing a chorus of hallelujahs. It was about damn time!

The hot glide of flesh impaling her body was almost too much to take. As he buried himself in her, she came. It was impossible to fight it as her body shook around his pounding thrusts.

She only hoped he was enjoying this as much as she was.

Her body bowed as he continued take her. Staring up into his midnight blue eyes, there was nothing there but loathing.

This would damage him, and she didn't know why. It was amazing. Setting her hands free, he used his arms to brace himself over her.

Repeatedly, he thrust deep into her body.

The next wave of orgasm was coming, and she was helpless to hold on.

His pummeling strokes picked up intensity, throwing Elizabeth over the edge, and it seemed like she fell forever. Then she realized it was because he didn't stop.

He couldn’t.

As he pumped himself in and out of her, filling her inch by inch, she tried to focus.

“Ethan, please,” she whispered, needing more. She knew it would save him.

It was the only way back to him.

As he fucked her on the floor of a seedy motel, she held on for the ride.

His body was tightening between her legs, and she knew it was coming to an end.

God!

She never wanted him to stop.

Rarely did she see him this raw and uncontrolled. There was something amazing about it.

He was primitive.

Wild.

Her Ethan
.

As his breathing labored, her hands found his slick shoulders. Her body sang with the oncoming release, but still he didn't stop. They dug in, and instead of helping him focus, it did the opposite.

She exploded.

He shook, balanced on the precipice.

When she dug her nails into his shoulder, he came, thrusting one final time before pouring hotly into her body. The rush of heat and wet caused her body to bow in pleasure.

There was no better feeling.

When he had finished filling her, his exhausted, and drunken form, collapsed on top of hers.

Elizabeth didn't move.

She couldn’t.

There was two hundred pounds of sexy Native pinning her to the floor. All she could think was that she was infinitively grateful she had her tetanus shot. After rolling around on this carpet, she was going to need to be hosed down.

When his breathing slowed, and she could feel the tickle of his eyelashes as he blinked against her skin, she finally knew it was time.

“Ethan?” she called, shaking his shoulder.

For a few seconds he didn't respond.

“Handsome? Are you okay?”

Slowly, he raised his head, still not speaking.

If there were demons haunting him before, they were back and brought an army of friends.

The battle was about to begin for Ethan’s soul.

“Elizabeth.”

She smiled up at him, wanting to reassure the fear in his eyes. Only, it was too late.

There were tears.

Her strong, tough husband was breaking, and she was helpless to stop it.

“I’m sorry! Oh, Jesus! Please forgive me,” he slurred.

She went to reassure him that she was perfectly fine, but there wasn’t time to get the words out.

The self-loathing had begun. Ethan was trapped in what he’d done, and he wasn’t going to listen to reasoning. It was too late to reach him.

“I just….I just raped you.”

The words sat between them.

Is that what he really thought happened?

Elizabeth was horrified that he was viewing it like that when she certainly didn't call what happened rape. She called it hot sex, but how was she supposed to make him see that?

The truth?

She wouldn’t.

“Ethan, I’m…”

He didn't wait to hear anything else. It was like the anger was sucked away, pulled back into his body and replaced with something far worse, far more dangerous, and something so detrimental that it scared her more than a wild Ethan ever could.

He was going to run.

This was her biggest fear, and she had to hang on to him for as long as she could. Elizabeth had to make him see that she loved him.

They were safe.

She was happy.

Before more could be said, Ethan Blackhawk was off her body, racing to the small bathroom.

The door slammed.

She could hear him retching the booze from his body. Staring up at the mirrored ceiling, she took in the scene.

Somehow, this was going to end badly.

She just knew it.