When at last the racking sobs quieted, he lifted his head. “You should go back to the room, take some sleeping pills—”
“I can’t. I don’t want to be alone. Please, Zach, don’t make me go. Let me stay with you. Just hold me. Please.” Her words held the echo of doom, but he couldn’t deny her and when she turned her face up to his, he kissed her trembling lips, knowing that he was about to cross a threshold from which there was no return. Life would never be the same. The truth would be blurred with lies, but he kissed her and she responded, her body quivering in fear and desire.
His brain thundered and his blood turned to liquid heat as she let her fingers slide down his scarred back, along the slope of his spine and lower still to his buttocks. He felt his already stiff cock rise to the occasion, knew there was no turning back as she tugged and the buttons holding his cutoffs together popped in a ripple and her hands were upon him. Warm and soft, her fingers brought a magic that he never dreamed existed.
They tumbled on the bed together, lips searching, tongues eager and before he could consider all the consequences of his actions, Zachary stripped her of her nightshirt, ripping the buttons from their holes as the seams of the soft fabric gave way. Then he gazed at her breasts, felt the gentle pressure of her fingers on his spine, and watched as she licked her lips. He could barely breathe when she ran her tongue across his nipples and anxiously parted her legs, lifting her hips to rub her dewy nest of curls to his crotch.
He thought he might come all over her. “Kat—”
“Just do it, Zach. Please.” Her fingers dug deep into his muscles.
Closing his eyes, he entered into that moist, dark warmth. A primal cry rumbled from his throat and he couldn’t stop himself. In three long strokes it was over; Zachary came fast and hot and fell against her, realizing dimly that he’d just doomed himself to a living hell. No son dared lose his virginity to his father’s wife and expect to survive.
But he didn’t care. He wrapped himself in her warmth and kissed her again, more sure of himself. He’d take it slower with her this time, learn from her and be the best damned lover she ever had.
Zach couldn’t remember when he’d slept so soundly. He moved slightly and felt another body, warm and soft and naked. With a smile, he remembered the night of lovemaking and he rolled over to find Kat, her eyes half open, staring at him. Dawn was breaking over the horizon and soon the ranch hands would be up; she had to leave.
“I wondered how it would be with you,” she said as she slid a finger along the scar that was still visible near his hairline. Though she smiled, a sadness lingered in her eyes.
“How was it?” He nuzzled her check. Though it was dangerous to be with her, he couldn’t give up. He’d made love to her three times last night, and he’d woken up with a hard-on. Maybe there was still enough time for a quick…
“It was the best, Zach,” she said, though her face remained troubled and he knew she was lying.
He touched her hair, brushing soft curls off her face and wished he could stop the agony that pinched the corners of her mouth. As if reading his thoughts, she began to weep; tears suddenly starred her lashes and he pulled her closer to him, holding her naked body next to his. “Don’t worry.”
“I can’t help it, I—”
“Shh. We’ll find London.” He felt suddenly strong, as if he could change the world. “I’ll find her.”
“Oh, Zach, what can you do—”
“You’d be surprised.” His hands found her breasts and he toyed with a nipple that stiffened expectantly under the gentle teasing of his fingers. “Let me show you—”
She broke off suddenly, her eyes wide. “Do you hear anything?”
“No—”
“I do.” She scrambled away from him. “I hear something—”
Zach listened and groaned at the sound of an engine whining as some kind of vehicle—most likely a truck—approached.
“Probably Pete coming early. He does that sometimes,” Zach said, already aroused again. God, he couldn’t get enough of her. He let one hand rest on the curve of her waist.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Mmm.” He listened again and felt his heart knock a bit. The engine wasn’t the deep rumble of a truck, but the smooth purr of an expensive car’s engine as it sped down the lane. An expensive car like a Lincoln Continental. “Oh, God.”
Gravel crunched and brakes squealed.
“Witt,” Katherine mouthed.
“No—” But even as he denied it, he heard the car door open and brisk footsteps sound on the path. Footsteps he’d recognize anywhere. Authoritative footsteps belonging to his father. Footsteps of doom. “Damn it, Kat! You’ve got to get out of here.”
But it was too late. The front door opened and the footsteps continued the short distance to the master bedroom. Kat froze at the muted rap of fingers against wood.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, God, oh, God.”
“Leave. Through here.” He was pushing her now, toward the open French doors. She rolled out of bed, grabbed her torn nightshirt and was stepping outside when Witt’s voice reverberated through the rooms. “Katherine? Are you here?” There was a worried edge to his voice.
“Go!” Zach reached for his cutoffs as he heard the first door in the hallway open, then close. Only a few more seconds.
The door to his room opened just as Kat disappeared through the doors.
His father looked gigantic. Zach didn’t bother feigning sleep and Witt didn’t say a word, just looked at the rumpled sheets and sniffed at the lingering odor of Katherine’s perfume. His mouth flattened to a white line of fury and an ugly tic developed under his eye. “Get out,” he said under his breath. Zach rolled off the bed as his father’s fist collided with his face. Pain exploded in his jaw. “You no-good bastard!”
“Witt!” Kat stood in the doorway, her fingers curling over the brass door handle. “Don’t. It…was my fault.”
“Your fault? You forced him to screw you?” He slammed Zach against the wall. Zach’s head smacked against the plaster and pieces of stucco crumbled to the floor. Pain ripped all the way down his spine. “You fucking son of a bitch!” Witt snarled, shaking the life from him as the mirror over the bureau rattled. “I always suspected you were no son of mine and now I’m sure of it. Get out before I kill you!”
Zach staggered toward the door. His eyes barely focused and he felt something sticky and wet running down the back of his head.
“You can’t do this!” Katherine cried and Zach heard a slap that made his stomach turn over. He turned and saw the welt forming on Katherine’s cheek and Witt’s stunned expression, as if he couldn’t believe that he’d struck her.
“Don’t you ever touch me again!” she said, backing outside.
“I’m sorry. Christ, Katherine, I swear, I’d never do anything to hurt you—”
He took one step toward her but she kept backing up. “Stay away from me, Witt. I mean it,” she said, before turning and running into the grayish dawn. Witt’s great shoulders slumped and he sagged against the wall. He turned damning eyes up at his son. “Now look what you’ve done, Zach,” he said, barely able to breathe. With an expression straight from hell, he loosened his tie then reached for his belt buckle. Zach remembered the times he’d been whipped by a thin leather strap. Not again. He wouldn’t suffer like he had when he was eight, leaning over the bed and biting his lower lip until it bled to keep from crying out as his father flayed him with the stinging leather. No way.
“Leave now and don’t ever…” Witt, suddenly ashen, reached into his pocket, fumbled for a vial of pills and popped the top. He stuck one of the tablets under his tongue. “Don’t ever come back here.”