“So, what have you heard about what happened with me and Santiago?” she asked.
Novak sensed she was trying to figure out if she could trust him with more than her body. He pushed aside a surge of pure outrage over what he now suspected Santiago had done to her. “I heard it was rough.”
“Yeah, it’s common knowledge he beat the hell out of me. It took several weeks for the bruises and cracked ribs to heal.”
He was silent as he waited for her to keep talking.
The word she’d yet to utter made her flinch. “A friend of mine is a forensic nurse at a local hospital. I saw her the next day. She did the full work-up, including evidence collection. Her unit will hold the evidence for two years in case I decide to use it. Other than a bad memory or two, he gave me no other nasty extras.”
Without saying the word, she’d admitted to him what happened.
“Why didn’t you press charges?”
“I couldn’t handle my coworkers seeing me as a victim. The beating was bad enough. The other would have made it unbearable.”
He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened and pulled away. He let her go, dropping his arms.
She ran a trembling hand through her hair. “I’m not a victim, Novak.”
“You’re certainly not.”
She hesitated. “I’ve never been good at intimacy. And what happened in Virginia Beach didn’t help.”
“You did a good job of it twenty-five minutes ago.”
That startled a shaky laugh out of her. “Come on. You know that’s different. Sex and intimacy aren’t the same thing.”
“What we shared, well, let’s say it was charged with a lot of emotion.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged and threaded her fingers through her hair again. “Standing here like this, Jesus, talking . . . it feels far more intimate than I’m comfortable with.”
“But you’re doing it.”
“I’ve created the impression of intimacy, but is it really there?”
“Who else have you spent time like this with lately?”
She didn’t answer.
“Who?”
“No one.”
He carefully took her face in his hands. “So this is different.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Suddenly her gaze glistened with tears. She tipped her head back. “I hate tears. Hate them.”
“Why?”
“I saw my mother cry over my father enough times. Tears don’t fix problems.” And still they filled her eyes. She tipped her head back farther. “I’m getting all girlie on you. When emotions get sticky, it’s usually the signal to leave.”
“Whose signal?”
“My signal.”
“Why leave? It’s getting good.”
When she tried to pull her head free, he tightened his hold on her face enough so she knew he wanted her to stay, and yet loose enough so if she really wanted to break free, she could.
She drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I can’t.”
Novak kissed her, showing instead of telling her that he wanted her again. “So we don’t have to talk.”
She wrapped her arms around him, her body pressing against his. “I might stay. If you can convince me it’s worth my while.”
He was rock hard as he smoothed his hand up under the shirt and cupped her breasts. He knew when he touched her, she wanted him.
He backed her up onto the counter as he pulled a condom from the pocket of his shorts. As he slid it on, she kissed him and opened for him. He pulled her to the edge, freed himself, and with one thrust pushed deep into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back.
This time, not able to hold back or go slow, he was faster, more urgent. He needed her to know how much he wanted her. Her body tensed.
“Open your eyes,” he said. “See me.”
She hesitated, then looked at him.
“If you don’t want this, say it.” He continued to move inside her. “Tell me what you want.”
She didn’t speak at first but then whispered, “You.”
“I won’t hurt you. Ever.”
She moistened her lips. And reached for her center as if she simply wanted to lose herself in the sex again.
He grabbed her hand, raised her fingers to his mouth, and kissed the tips. “Do you understand that I’ll never hurt you?”
“Couples say that to each other. We’re not a couple.”
His hand slid under her hair to the back of her neck, and he tugged her closer. He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “Us a couple? The thought never crossed my mind.”
She opened wider for all of him. “I mean it. Not a couple.”
He pressed inside her. “I thought you didn’t want to talk.”
She didn’t argue as her hand slid back to her core and she whispered, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He captured her hand yet again and halted her race toward orgasm. “We’re in this together.”
She tried to tug her hand free.
“Tell me you understand,” he said.
“Fine. I get it.”
“You get what?”
“What I’ve known all along. You’re a good guy. But that has never been the issue.”
He released her hand and watched as she began to touch herself again. This time when they came, it was together.
Julia dreamed of the pop of gunfire. Bright-red blood splashed on her face and hands. She looked up and saw her father lying in his own blood. The air was sharp with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Behind him stood the monster that vanished when she screamed.
She sat up in bed, swallowing a scream as her heart pounded in her chest. “Shit,” she muttered.
Julia pushed her hair out of her eyes, searching for her bedside clock. It wasn’t there. She wasn’t in her bed. Where the hell . . .
Novak clicked on a light. He was awake, alert. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Sorry to wake you.”
He smoothed his hand over her rigid spine. “You’re shaking.”
She pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to soothe the pounding in her skull. “Just a dream. I can handle it.”
He sat up and put his hand on her back. “Does it have to do with Santiago?”
His touch was gentle and strong. Calming. “No. Ironically, I never dream about him and what happened.”
“Then what?”
“It’s always the same. The day my father died.”
“When did the dreams start?”
A silence settled around her, and she couldn’t find her voice.
“After the rape?” he asked.
She winced. “Yes.”
“What’s in the dream?”
“I hear gunfire and smell the gunpowder. There’s blood under my feet. And then I see the monster recede into the shadows.”
“The monster?”
“No face. No name. Just a shadow. Moving away and vanishing.”
“The police report states your mother found your father’s body.”
“That’s what she told me at first. She kept telling me I didn’t see anything. But the shrink the department chief made me see after Benny suggested I try hypnosis. It must have opened a door, because that night I had the dream.”
“Did you talk to the doctor about the dream?”