Sweetest Taboo (14 page)

“Stacey wants it to be officially known that she is in heaven sleeping in Stark's bedroom,” Brody says as we walk barefoot along the private beach in the island's gated area. “Personally, I think that's just a little kinky. But since I'm good with kink, I'm going to roll with it.”

I bump him with my shoulder. “You're a good husband.”

“That's what I keep telling her. Seriously, thanks for getting us the bungalow. And thanks for giving Stark her email address. The email from him and Nikki telling us where various things are in the bungalow and assuring us we should make ourselves at home was a nice touch. And I'm pretty sure Stacey's going to print it out and frame it once we get back to New York.”

“Not a problem. And Nikki really wanted to reassure you both that you were welcome.”

He and Stacey had arrived about an hour ago, and we met them at the helipad. We showed them to the Stark bungalow and gave them the quick and dirty tour of the island, pointing out important features like the small but well-stocked liquor store, the restaurant, and the spa.

Then Stacey went inside to unpack while Dallas went into our bungalow to make some phone calls. At least, that's what they said. Brody and I both knew they were just giving us time to catch up.

“I'm so glad you're here,” I say honestly. “I miss you. I haven't seen you since…” I trail off. The sun is too bright, the beach is too pretty, the sky is too blue. I just don't want to think about what happened.

“Since the bitch attacked you?” Brody says, clearly not reading my mind.

“It's been a little hectic since then,” I say dryly.

“I was a fucking basket case, you know that, right? Your mom told you? I mean, I get why they wanted to be careful, but I was really freaked.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “I missed you, too.”

He shoots me a sideways look. “So how are you doing? Really?”

I frown as I think about it. “I feel exposed. Raw. And vulnerable. I mean, she just came out of the dark and attacked me. And then to do that to a dog.” I shiver, then hug myself.

“And Dallas?”

Just his name makes me smile. “He makes me feel safe.” It's a simple answer, but the truth often is, and that is the most basic truth between us: we make each other feel safe.

“I'm glad to hear it, but what I meant is how's he doing? With the attack on you, I mean. And also with the news that just hit the papers.”

I make a face. “You saw. Great, huh? Pretty soon they'll offer us a reality TV show.”

“Good girl,” Brody says, then shrugs when I aim a questioning look his way. “I just think you have to keep your sense of humor about that. Not about the stalker, but the tabloids? Fuck it, you'll never get ahead. At any rate, you didn't answer my question. How's Dallas handling everything? Especially the attack on you and this horror with the dog?”

“He's feeling furious,” I admit. “Not to mention impotent.”

Brody's brows rise, and I roll my eyes. “No, we're going fine in that department,” I say. “Problem pretty much solved there.”

“Also glad to hear it.”

“I just mean that he wants to jump in and be my protector, but he doesn't know who to protect me from.”

“You guys don't have any idea at all?”

“We're convinced it's the Woman,” I say, then shrug. “But who the hell is she?”

“Someone you've seen before.”

“Well, yeah. I saw her in a cell seventeen years ago.”

He shakes his head. “No, I mean she's not just going to pop out of the woodwork after that much time.”

“Agreed. Dallas and I talked about that. She's been watching all this time. Honestly, it's creepy.”

“I'll say.”

I bend down to pick up a shell, then toss it back into the ocean. “What did you say a few seconds ago?”

“That she won't just pop out of the woodwork?”

I shake my head. “No. You said that we've seen her before.” I tap my finger on my chin as I think, as if that will jar my thoughts into place. “That's so obvious, but I never thought of it like that. I thought about her watching us. Not us seeing her. But we've probably noticed her. Maybe even talked to her.”

“Maybe at one of Dallas's famous parties.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, great. We've just narrowed the suspect list down to ninety-five percent of the female population of Manhattan.”

“Yeah, but you can narrow it down more. Most of the girls at those parties are just that. Girls. But if your attacker is the Woman, she has to be older, right?”

“True. But there were a lot of older women vying for the chance to cheat on their husbands with Dallas.” I twist my mouth wryly. “I'm pretty sure they even formed a Meetup group.”

Brody ignores me. “She could also be someone in the neighborhood. Not necessarily a resident. But the dry cleaner. Or even one of Dallas's part-time maids or cooks. After the kidnapping, she worked her way into his life. She wants to be close to him. Hell, she
has
to.”

“But if I'm her competition, why didn't she just kill me on the street? She could have easily.” It's true. I hate it, but it's true.

“Who knows? Maybe you're just lucky. Maybe she's got something that passes for a conscience. Or maybe she just likes the drama that comes with playing a game.”

“The drama,” I say, feeling a little sick. I remember how she was when she tied me down so she could go torture Dallas. I recall what Dallas has told me about what she did to him, the sick games she made him play. The way she got off on it.

“You nailed it,” I say, meeting Brody's eyes. “She's definitely playing a game.”

“I know.” His voice is low, as serious as I've ever heard it. “Let's hope to hell she loses.”

Dallas stood on the back porch looking out at the Pacific, breathing in the sea air and listening to the waves crash onto the beach. In the distance, he could see Brody and Jane returning, and he watched their progress. The view was peaceful, even beautiful, and it pissed him off that they'd come to this perfect location not for a romantic getaway but as an escape from a tabloid hell. Not to mention a damn stalker.

Fucking bullshit
.

On the beach, Brody veered off toward the Stark bungalow, and Jane picked up speed until she was jogging toward Dallas.

“Hey,” she said, peering at his face. “We've got this. We can handle this.”

He lifted a brow. “Handle it? Our deepest secrets spewed all over the goddamn media like it's entertainment?”

For a moment, she just stared at him. Then she surprised the hell out of him and burst out laughing. She was laughing so hard, in fact, that she had to back up and lean against the wall.

“Christ, Jane.” He practically growled the words. But the more she laughed—the more she held up her hand to indicate that she just couldn't talk yet—the more he calmed down. And by the time he actually pulled her still-hiccupping body into his arms, he was actually smiling. Although that was more in response to her than to any humor in the situation.

“Talk to me,” he said, when she finally relaxed in his arms.

She tilted her head back, her eyes lit with amusement. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But come on, Dallas. Our secrets are already all over the media. We already are entertainment. And hell, maybe all the idiots who've been saying we're vile will take a step back now that they know more about what happened.”

“Do you want them to know more?”

She shook her head. “No—god no. I want this all to go away. But…”

“But what?”

“It's not going to go away. We're stuck with the cameras and the gossip and it's horrible, but it's there.”

“I know,” he said. “But that's not the point.”

“Then what is?”

He shook his head, then took a step back as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. Hell, trying to fully understand his reaction himself. Because the truth was, she was right. This was just one more thing. One more burden. One more bone for the media dogs to chew on.

Except this wasn't about the media. This was about them. Or, more specifically, it was about the spotlight always shining on them. And not because Jane looked hot in a gown when she walked down the red carpet at some Hollywood charity event. Not even because Dallas was rumored to be fucking the latest A-list actress, not anymore anyway.

On the contrary, the gossip centered around their doomed relationship. A brother and a sister in love and disinherited. A tragedy played out across the Internet.

And every screen impression, every headline, every mention on some celebrity gossip show shouted out to the world that the way Dallas and Jane felt about each other was doomed. And worse.

Wrong.

Dirty.

Sinful.

She was the best part of his life, and yet all that the world reflected back to them was dirt and shame. Even in his own goddamn family.

And he fucking hated that.

Roughly, he took her hand and pulled her hard to him. She gasped, stumbling a little. He could see the question in her eyes and so he claimed her mouth before she could avoid it. The kiss was hard, almost desperate. It was a magic potion, a ticket, a window to a world without his dark thoughts, his taunting frustrations. A world where it was just Dallas and Jane. Love without all the goddamn strings and hurdles.

“I need you,” he whispered as he broke the kiss long enough to pull her tank top over her head. She wore nothing under it, and now she stood before him in just a pair of running shorts, her breasts heavy and her skin flushed. Her lips plump from kissing. She stood with her legs slightly spread, and he idly rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, imagining how slick she was, how sweet she'd taste. His cock, already rock hard inside the cheap pair of athletic shorts he'd tossed on as soon as they'd arrived at the bungalow, throbbed almost painfully.

Roughly, he tugged her head to the side, making her gasp. Then he kissed his way down the side of her throat, relishing the small noises she made as she grew more and more needy.

“Tell me,” he demanded as he kissed her lower still, then flicked his tongue over her nipple. “Tell me you know that you're mine.” He bit her nipple as he slid his fingers down into her shorts and under her panties, moaning at just how wet she was.

“Yes.” Her word was barely a moan. “Yes, Dallas, I know. Oh, god!” The word ripped out of her as he thrust his fingers inside her, and her muscles clenched tighter around him.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.” He moved his fingers in and out, brushing her clit with each long, deep stroke.

“
Yes
. Please, please, Dallas. Yes.”

“Oh, holy hell.” He'd wanted to tease her. To make it build. But there was so much pure need in her voice that he couldn't wait any longer. He had to be inside her.

He pulled his fingers from her, eliciting a frustrated groan. But that turned quickly into a gasp when he yanked down her shorts and panties. “Step out of them,” he said, and as soon as she complied, he cupped his hands around her ass and lifted her. “Ride me,” he demanded. “Hook your legs around my hips and ride my cock.”

He held her weight as she lowered herself so that the tip of his cock teased her pussy. And it was all he could do not to come right then. Christ, he wanted to be inside her, and for just a moment the fear that he would lose his erection tormented him.
Fuck no
. Not now. Not tonight.

And as if he had to prove the point, he took a step forward so that part of her weight was supported by the side of the house, then urged her body lower, impaling her fully on his cock.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, then took her mouth roughly, his tongue warring with hers, as hot and hard and wild as the thrusts of his cock. “Touch yourself,” he told her when he could feel her body tightening. She was close, so close, and he wanted to feel her explode around him. He wanted her to completely shatter in his arms. “Slide your hand between us and stroke your clit.”

She did, and he kissed her again, tugging on her lip, diving deep with his tongue. Teasing the corner of her mouth even as the rhythmic motion of her hand on her clit set his skin on fire, the way her fingers brushed over him simply from the proximity of their bodies.

“Tell me you're close,” he said, when he knew he couldn't last much longer.

“Yes.” Her voice was like a breath. “God, yes.”

“That's it, baby. Come for me.” He felt her body tighten around his cock, the way her legs shook with mounting pleasure, and her satisfaction pushed him to the edge.
“Now,”
he cried. “Oh, god, Jane,
now.
”

She tightened around him as he exploded inside her, and they rode the wave together, hard and deep, until they both stopped trembling and his legs couldn't take it anymore and they slid, sated and helpless, to the porch.

They stayed there, breathing hard, for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes. Then she shifted and propped herself up on her elbow. “That was incredible,” she said. “You gonna tell me what started it?”

“Maybe you just drove me a little wild in that cute top.”

“Uh-uh. Try again.”

“Take a wild guess.”

She sighed. “Fuck the world, Dallas. What is it to us?”

He cocked his head. “You really believe that?”

She considered the question, then sighed as she shook her head. “No, but I'm trying to believe it. But come on, Dallas, you've been living like the poster boy for hedonism for years. Some of this should be familiar.”

“It is,” he admitted. “And it's not the attention per se that bothers me. It's what they say about us. And honestly, I think I could stand even that if only—” He cut himself off.

“Mom's behind us,” she said softly, because of course she knew where he'd been heading. “And maybe Dad will come around in time.”

“I'm not going to bet the ranch.”

Her brow rose. “We have a ranch?”

He bit back a laugh, then took her hand and pulled her close, and held her in the circle of his arms.

“At any rate, I guess it is more than just Mom and Dad. Maybe I just don't like to share our history with the world.” He kissed her softly, thinking that he could hold her like this forever. “You were my dirtiest secret, down there in the dark where nobody knew.”

“But they do know. So what does that make me?”

“Now you're my sweetest taboo.”

Laughter danced in her eyes. “Good,” she said, “because you're mine, too.”

He pulled her to her feet and led her inside where they both laid down, sprawling lengthwise on the couch. He breathed in, calmed by the fresh, familiar scent of her shampoo. “Adele was right,” he said thoughtfully. “She predicted that someone would eventually leak the whole sex-in-captivity thing, and she was one-hundred-percent fucking right. But in a way this is good.”

“Good? How?”

“It proves what we've already suspected. That Colin's been lying about the Woman being dead. She's not dead, she's very much alive. She's the leak, baby. The only other people who know are people we trust. Which means that if we can trace the leak back to its source, we've got her. All we need now is time.”

The next morning, Dallas looked out at the great ocean that filled his vision. He was barefoot, and the sand felt cool and firm beneath his feet, and yet each time the waves tumbled in, the foundation below him shifted a little. Maybe not enough to knock him down, but enough so that he had to keep readjusting his balance.

And wasn't that a metaphor for his life?

Here on the island, everything was perfect. But they couldn't stay here, and soon he and Jane were going to have to go back to the real world.

Dammit, he wasn't ready. He'd never be ready until he knew Jane would be safe.

He drew a breath and pushed the thoughts from his mind. Then he stood a few more moments, simply enjoying the sound of the surf, the smell of the salt water. A pair of seagulls dive-bombed the water just past where the waves broke, and when one emerged with a wriggling fish, the other cawed in either approval or irritation that it had failed to get breakfast as well.

He was facing west, and so the sunrise was less vibrant, but still dramatic. The gray of dawn had succumbed to a deep blue that was now cut through by bands of gold and yellow and orange, all of which would give way to a vibrant sky blue as the hour grew later.

Dallas glanced at his watch and shifted his feet out of the pockets of sand into which he had sunk. He'd gone out on a mission to bring back breakfast tacos, but the morning had been so clear that he'd decided to walk the long way to the restaurant, following the beach from his private backyard all the way around to the main resort area.

He'd thought about waking Jane to join him, but she'd looked too peaceful. Better to rouse her gently with breakfast. And maybe even a mimosa. Surely he could grab a bottle of champagne from the restaurant.

Besides, he wanted to catch up with Liam and the guys. And that was a conversation he didn't want to have in front of Jane. Not that he intended to keep the investigation into her attack from her, but this island was supposed to be about escaping, not about reliving the horror.

Escaping.
He smiled a little to himself as he walked. That was true. He'd come here wanting to escape everything. Everything, that is, except Jane. He could never escape her, even if he wanted to. She was the key to his life, to his heart. Hell, maybe even to his sanity.

She'd told him that she would go into the dark with him, and that promise had the power to drop him to his knees. But what he was starting to realize was that he didn't need the dark anymore. All he needed was her. All of the other shit that he'd craved fizzled away when she was around, no match for the pure intensity of what he felt for her.