Take This Man

Take This Man By Nona Raines

Dedication


With many thanks to Denise Como, critique partner extraordinaire, and to all the members of Central New York Romance Writers.

PRAISE FOR AUTHOR





AND HER BOOKS

" One Good Man is really a story with depth!...

remarkably much more than just a romp with the neighbor when on the rebound story…. Can two people on the rebound help heal each other? Or will past issues and family keep them from finding happiness in this sexy story about how finding yourself in someone"s arms is as important as standing on your own."

~Four Hearts from "Sizzling Hot Book Reviews"

“I"ve been waiting for Adam"s story, Take This Man, since reading One Good Man, by author Nona Raines. After Adam Vostek dares Elyse Zemanski into a one-night ménage a trois, their relationship is doomed—and Elyse is gone. Who does Elyse meet when she sneaks back to town to help her best friend? Adam! Once again, Raines takes the reins and delivers with great characters, devious plot, and fantastic dialogue.”

~Sophia Roslyn, Dragonetti"s Mountain





Chapter One



She felt the bed shift as he eased out of it, nude, and padded across the room. Elyse turned to her side, watching through her lashes as he picked up the clothing he"d draped over a chair and slipped into the bathroom. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the water run. Then she slid from beneath the sheet.

Once her feet hit the floor, Elyse gathered her own garments, scattered around the cheap carpet of the motel room—panties, short flirty skirt, and glittery top. When she put them on last night, she thought they were sexy. Now they looked sleazy. She wriggled into them and looked for her shoes. No hose. Since it was summer, she"d gone bare legged.

She scanned the floor for her gold strappy sandals with the high heels. F*ck-me shoes. Right.

One lay near the dresser, but Elyse couldn"t locate the other. Screw it. If she had to, she"d go barefoot.

She needed to get out of here.

She crept to the bathroom door in her bare feet, and softly knocked. Opening the door, she noted the grungy tiles on the wall and the faded shower curtain. Jason stood at the sink, toweling the water off his face. His pants were on, his chest bare.

Earlier that evening, Elyse had been struck by his movie-star good looks—the dark wavy hair, square jaw, and intensely blue eyes. Even now, after all their sexual hi-jinx, he looked like he"d just stepped off the cover of GQ.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and winced. Unlike Jason, she was a mess. Her blonde hair was a rat"s nest, her makeup so smeared 1

she resembled a ghoul.

Jason"s eyes were still sleepy. “Need to use it?”

“No. I—can you give me a ride home?” The sleepy blue eyes widened a bit in surprise.

“You"re leaving now?”

“Yes, can you take me? Please?” She hated adding that please, hated how needy it sounded.

“All right.” He draped the towel over his shoulder. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Her throat was tight, her eyes stung.

“I"ll wait for you outside.”

She longed to use the shower, to stand under the hot water and let the sweat and stickiness wash away. How long would it take to make her feel clean again? An hour? A week? A hundred years?

At the bedroom door, Elyse spotted her other sandal, under the bed. She hesitated. It was bad enough to make the walk of shame to Jason"s car in her hootchie outfit. Despite her earlier bravado, she didn"t want to do it barefoot as well.

Eyeing the bed nervously, she crept over and hunkered down to grab her shoe. She gave one last look toward the bed—and the man sleeping in it—

then hurried out the door.



****

Adam Vostek lay alone on the bed in the no-tell motel. He"d pretended to sleep as Elyse left with Jason. Adam"s insides were as twisted as the sheets he lay beneath.

This whole threesome thing had been his bright idea, his set-up. He"d pushed for it, telling himself it was just a lark, a little fun. He"d be giving Elyse every woman"s fantasy, two men devoted to her pleasure. Nobody would get hurt.

Yeah, right.

Vostek, you"re a lying sack of shit. And a cowardly son of a bitch, besides.

If it was such a good idea, why had Elyse looked 2

like she might burst into tears when he suggested it?

If it was so much fun, why had his guts churned as he watched Jason touch her? Why had Adam wanted to pull her out of the other man"s arms and snarl,

“She"s mine”?

But they"d both gone through with it. And Elyse had chosen to leave with a man she only met tonight, rather than stay with him.

He should have stopped her from leaving. Even now, Adam knew he should get out of bed, get dressed, and go after her. Make it better somehow.

Ask for forgiveness. Tell her how much he loved her.

But he wouldn"t. For the same reason he"d maneuvered the others into the whole ménage game.

Because he had to make Elyse let him go. And the only way to do that was to make her hate him.



****

Elyse stared out the passenger"s window of Jason"s sports car. She didn"t know a Mustang from a Maserati, but she recognized expensive when she saw it. “Nice car.”

“Thanks.”

Well, that exhausted her store of conversation.

What did proper etiquette dictate after the course of a threesome? “Thanks so much. It was lovely. We must do this again sometime.” Not.

What could she say that wasn"t lame? I"ve never done that before? Like he"d believe her. Or even care.

What difference did it make, anyway? It wasn"t like they knew each other. Except in the biblical sense. Some sick impulse almost made her laugh at the thought.

Jason spoke. “Won"t he be upset? To find you gone?”

Avoiding his gaze, Elyse shrugged.

He didn"t let up. “Are you running away? Is that what this is?”

3

Elyse clamped her lips firmly together. She didn"t owe him any explanations.

Jason took the hint. He sighed and dropped the subject. “What"s the address again?”

“344 Woodside Lane.”

Elyse smirked. Woodside Lane. As though giving the street a countrified name would keep people from noticing they lived in the dumpiest part of Summit, New York. Keep them from noticing the empty storefronts and the broken sidewalks littered with trash.

She indicated the turn and had him pull over to the curb. “Here it is, right here.” Jason blinked, gazing at the building. “It"s a laundromat.”

Her reply was short. “I live upstairs.” What"s the matter, rich boy, not glam enough for you?

She hated Jason for his fancy car, for his designer clothes, and for his upper class surprise at her digs.

She hated herself for her slutty get-up, crummy neighborhood, and nasty apartment above the Sud-Zee Laundromat.

But most of all, she hated Adam, still asleep at the New Moon Motel. The man who, until tonight, she loved without reservation.

She swung the car door open and got out, surprised to see Jason emerging from his side.

“What are you—look, you don"t need to—”

“It"s two a.m.,” he told her. “I"m not letting you go up alone.”

“The door"s right there. I"ve got my key out. I"ll be fine.”

“You still have to go upstairs.” His voice was firm. “I"m coming with you.”

“Fine.”

Let him do what he wanted, it was easier than arguing. It wasn"t as though she had to worry about 4

him making a move on her. Been there, done that.


Jason accompanied her to the outside door, which she unlocked, then followed her upstairs to her apartment. Elyse unlocked that door as well and stepped inside. “Thanks for the ride.” She tossed the words over her shoulder, dismissing him.

She bent to pick up the little tortoiseshell kitten that greeted her, and kissed the top of the cat"s soft head.

“Hi, baby.”

Tucking Jezebel in the crook of her arm, Elyse carried her to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. The kitten curled up. Elyse knew sleep was out of the question—she was too angry, too keyed-up.

Her mind raced. Her emotions were a tangle.

Reaching under the bed, she pulled out a battered old hard-shell suitcase. She began to fill it with the sad contents of her dresser drawers.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped, her heart stopping. Jason stood in the doorway.

“Why the hell are you still here?” she demanded.

“You"re upset. I wanted to make sure you"re all right.”

“I"m fine.” She grabbed her collection of paperback fantasy novels from a cheap bookshelf and dumped them into the suitcase as well.

“What are you doing?” Jason repeated, stepping into the room.

She crammed as much as she could into the suitcase, and struggled to get it closed. Cheap-ass thing. She couldn"t get it fastened. “Shit.” Her finger got pinched in the metal closure. “Ow! Oh, shit.

F*ck!” She jammed the finger in her mouth, sucking, tears stinging her eyes.

“Here.” Jason took her by the arm, sat her on the bed. He easily snapped the locks shut, then sat down beside Elyse. They were silent for some time.

5

Jason"s neatly manicured hands were stroking little Jezebel, who was curled on a pillow.

“Pretty little cat,” he remarked.

“Thanks.”

Then he sighed. “What are you doing, Elyse?”

“Just what you said. Running away.” She glanced at the suitcase. It now contained all her worldly goods. Whatever didn"t fit inside, she"d leave behind and never miss. Whoever rented the apartment after her was welcome to them. She didn"t care if the landlord put them out on the curb.

It didn"t matter.

She was leaving the place without proper notice, so she wouldn"t get her security deposit back. Too bad—she could use the money.

She had thirty-six dollars and change in her purse. It wouldn"t get her very far.

Jason spoke. “What about Adam?” Her heart thunked at the mention of his name.

“What about him?”

“Elyse.”

“We"re over.” Her face felt stiff from the effort to appear calm, from holding back the rage clawing her. Not just rage. Betrayal.

“You"re not going to talk to him?” She shook her head. “No.” I never want to see his face again.

“So you"re just going to up and walk away from everything in your life.”

Her life? Elyse wanted to laugh. What life?

Working at the Hi-Lite Bakery? Living in this crappy little apartment with the puke-yellow walls?

Her life had been Adam and her dreams of a future with him. But that was over now.

Jason"s hand brushed her shoulder. “Listen, hon. You"re over-reacting, big time.” She flinched, not only from his touch, but from the memory. “Don"t.” Don"t touch me. Don"t talk 6

about it.

He took no offence at her reaction. In a gentle voice he said, “What happened tonight was just a blip on the radar. A little experiment. No big deal.

Happens all the time. Just put it behind you, and—”

“Can you take me to the bus station?” Jason went still for a time, as though silently counting to ten to summon patience.

Before he finished the count, Elyse said “Never mind. I"ll figure it out on my own. I"ll take a cab,” then, remembering her meager store of cash, “or walk.”

For the first time, Jason"s temper snapped.

“Don"t be stupid. You"re not walking anywhere in the middle of the night.” He indicated the kitten curled up on the pillow. “What about your friend? Are you going to leave her here?”

“Of course not.” Elyse"s cheeks burned. In all her half-assed planning, her jumbled brain had completely forgotten poor Jezebel. “I"ve got a carrier for her somewhere.”

The plans kept coming. She had a credit card.

She could use it to get a motel room for a week or so in a new place, until she found a job. She"d make it work out.

But Jason insisted on pointing out all the inconvenient facts. “Summit is not New York City.

The bus station"s not open this time of night.” Shit. He was so f*cking reasonable. Elyse wanted to punch him. “Then I"ll hitch-hike.

Someone"s bound to give me a ride.”

“Like who, a rapist? A serial killer?” Jason"s voice was sharp. “Are you out of your mind?” He stood up and sighed. “You"re determined to be an ass about this, aren"t you?”

Elyse firmed her jaw and said nothing.

“Well, then.” He gestured to the suitcase on the bed. “Get your shit. Get the cat. You"re coming with 7

me.” Elyse got to her feet, blinking at him. “Huh?”

“Get your stuff. I"m not leaving you alone here to pull God knows what idiotic stunt. You can stay with me tonight, and in the morning I"ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“With you?”

“I"ve got a room at the Hotel Excelsior. You can stay with me there. Don"t give me that look. You"re utterly safe with me. We can share the bed. I promise I won"t touch you.”

“No.”

“Fine, then.” He rolled his eyes, the gesture of a man using up his last reserve of patience. “You can sleep in a chair. I"m not giving up the bed—that much of a gentleman I"m not.”

“I mean, no, I"m not your problem.”

“You are now. Look, I"m exhausted, and not in the mood for these arguments. Now where"s the cat crate? We"ll get her in it and go.” He did look tired, his face pale and dark half-moons hanging under his eyes. And suddenly she realized she was tired, too. “In the closet over there.

Does the hotel allow pets?”

“We"ll sneak her in under my jacket or something. Let"s go.”

After stuffing a wriggling Jezebel into her carrier, Elyse turned to the man she"d slept with, yet hardly knew. She still hated him, even though he was being kind. She still hated herself. And Adam—

No. Don"t think about him. She would erase him from her memory, never think about him again.

“I won"t bother you after tomorrow,” she told him, her voice low. Then she realized it was already tomorrow.

“Maybe by then you"ll come to your senses.” Jason led the way out, carrying her suitcase, while Elyse followed with the cat.

8

If by that he meant she might change her mind, he was dead wrong.

Elyse left the apartment, knowing she would never come back again. As she locked the door, she was sealing up her past and putting it behind her.

She knew how to do that. She"d had lots of practice.

9