Three days. Three damn days and I was losing my mind.
House arrest at the Brownstone was nothing compared to being forced to hide out in Thad's riverside penthouse. I'm sure there were worse places to be stuck in but I was missing the brownstone. It had begun to feel a little like home, even though my time there was short. With the unsuccessful raid on Stephen's shiny hotel room, Thad's place was going to be my home for the foreseeable future.
Mal's men had discovered where Stephen had been holed up while in Boston. They hadn't found him, though. It seemed that he had known we were coming after him and ran. Some of his belongings were left behind, as well as notes about my location and activities since coming to the city.
The police were also still looking for Stephen. They hadn't been able to find him either, and evidence now makes it clear Stephen Laughlin isn't even his real name. Nothing I provided them had been any help, and when they checked in with the school district in Houston, they had no record of Stephen Laughlin ever being employed. That had earned me a lot of questions from the police.
I thought you said he was a teacher?
He was!
Apparently not. Didn't you teach at the same school?
Well, no. We taught at different schools. He was a high school geometry teacher.
Did you ever see him in the school, in class?
I hadn't. We met at a bar where many teachers in the district hung out on Friday evenings, and when he said he taught at one of the high schools, I had no reason to doubt it. It was a large county, with five high schools in total, and mine was on the other side of the city from where he said he taught. I never met him at the school for anything; he would always pick me up at my classroom since my classes ended after his.
So, until Mal or the police found him, I was stuck pacing the lavish floors of Thad's home. He had offered it up without hesitation, insisting I stay there since Stephen wouldn't know anything about it. Thad would be staying in his other home outside of the city. That's where Beth had been assigned. She was a-okay with it. Noah had explained the suspicions around Greg when he had driven her to the hospital. She immediately washed her hands of all things Greg and was currently enjoying Thad's company. Very. Much.
We were still upset that she wasn't here with me. The boys decided it was better to keep us split up, all of us split up, to make it harder for someone to determine our locations. This meant I was banished here by myself most days, with occasional visits from Mal or Joshua. They never stayed long. As soon as they had eyes on me, checked in with my overbearing security detail, and dropped off some supplies, they'd leave. Sometimes, I didn't even get to speak with them.
Noah hadn't come by yet, and when I asked the others about him, they got quiet and said nothing.
I knew he was punishing himself. And that pissed me off even more.
I was about ready to kill him when I saw him next. Scratch that. Kill all three of them.
They had forced me into this new prison, as gorgeous as it was, and left me to stew in my own thoughts and nightmares. I couldn't relax. Anxiety kept me strung tight the whole time they were away from me. No one was telling me anything about what was going on. It was "for my safety" and "better I didn't know," which was all condescendingly bullshitty. Since the attack at the gallery, I had been shut out. Left in the dark and going crazy.
My body was tight with tension, sexual and otherwise, and had no outlet. Thad had a workout room, which thankfully included a treadmill. Walker brought all my recent purchases over, including some workout clothes and a new pair of running shoes. The treadmill was set up to face the rooftop deck, so there was at least a view, but it paled compared to running outside. Even in the cold, snowy weather, I'd rather run out than in.
One of Walker's buddies walked by while I was finishing up my afternoon run, a shorter distance than my morning run, and I gave him a curt nod. Mal had called in extra security. I had found out the hard way my first morning waking up here. Walking out into the main living area in nothing but a t-shirt, two armed men were guarding the front hall and entrance, intent on nothing other than keeping me inside and everyone out. Two guys were always there, rotating shifts. Like clockwork, one of them would do a lap around the living room and kitchen, then down the hall to check in the bedrooms, home theater room – which was totally badass – the office, the workout room, out to the deck, and then back to his post in the entryway.
That was the last straw. It was one thing to have them parked by the door. I couldn't, wouldn't, tolerate someone keeping tabs on me every hour inside my temporary home. I couldn't relax knowing that as soon as I got comfortable somewhere, a giant broody hulking man would be coming by to check up on me. I was not a toddler. Babysitters weren't necessary.
Punching the stop button on the treadmill a little harder than necessary, I yelled down the hall at my bodyguard. "I'm taking a shower. Try not to walk in on me, okay?"
If he answered or even acknowledged me, I had no idea. I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me and started angrily stripping out of my shorts and sports tank. Naked, I strode into the bathroom and straight into the walk-in shower.
Which was my favorite part of this whole place.
If I never accomplished anything else in my life, one day I was going to own a shower like the one in this apartment. There were multiple shower heads, some of which I hadn't figured out how to turn on yet. Two large, square heads were mounted on the ceiling directly above me, and when I tilted my head up to let the water cascade over my face, it felt like I was standing outside in the rain on a hot, hot summer night. As I smoothed my hair back, rinsing out the last of the shampoo, I tried to keep out the memories of the night Noah and I were outside under our tree when a storm had come through suddenly. Instead of going inside like any smart people would do, we stayed outside, lost in our lust for each other. The rain had made everything slicker and sexier, and even though I was only eighteen, it was still one of the hottest nights of my entire life.
The bottle of conditioner shook in my hand as I recalled the details of that night.
"Stop it," I muttered, combing my fingers through my hair and then stepping back under the rain-like shower.
My fingers slid down my abdomen as I was lost in thought over that night, my memories getting tangled with thoughts of his mouth on me at the gallery. The things he had done, so skillfully bringing me to my climax – I shuddered. Just as my fingers slid over my sex, a hand captured my wrist. My eyes flew open in surprise, a startled yelp escaping me. Noah glared at me, his dress shirt drenched and his suit pants getting soaked as he stood in the shower, fully clothed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Noah! You're getting soaked!"
"They're just clothes." He released my hand and stepped all the way into the shower with me. He was at least barefoot, having removed his shoes before coming into the bathroom. Backing me into the wall, he held each of my wrists in his hands, placing them against the tile by either side of my face. He leaned down and licked a drop of water from my cheek. I arched into him but he held his body just out of reach. I returned his glare, hungry for him and totally over this sexual fasting.
"I thought we agreed last week that you'd only do that in front of one of us."
"I can't help it," I sighed. "This shower had me thinking about when you ate me out in the rain."
He clenched his jaw, and that one muscle ticked. I realized I had yet to lick it as I pouted at him, hoping to loosen him up.
"And you haven't been here."
His eyes narrowed.
"I need your hands on me," I pleaded, trying to twist from his grip.
"I need to put them on you," he admitted, moving just a little closer to me.
My hips pushed forward, looking for his, my nipples just barely brushing against his shirt. His nose grazed my jawline as I angled my head to the side, enticing him to kiss my neck. I wanted him to lick the rest of the water from my skin. Just as I thought he'd do it, he stiffened and pulled away.
"Noah," I pleaded, reaching for him as he let go of my wrists quickly as if I had burned him. His expression was one of utter anguish.
He stepped further from me, directly under the rainfall from the shower, and I followed, clasping his wet shirt to hold him there. His body thrummed with tension. I was sure he'd bolt any second.
"Your neck." He nodded toward my stitches. "You aren't healed."
My fingers brushed over the small threads. "I don't even feel it anymore."
He jerked back from me, forcing me to let go of his shirt. "But I do. I can still feel your blood on my hands."
I was losing him. "You're pulling away from me. You're doing it again. Punishing yourself." Contact. My palm pressed against his heart. "Don't run from me again, Noah."
"I'm supposed to be taking care of you," he whispered, his forehead leaning against mine. "I promised Riley I would."
"You are."
He shook his head but didn't break contact. "Stephen." He gritted his teeth. "That pervert was there, watching us as I did things to you."
I murmured, "Amazing things. Things I need more of."
His hands fisted before resting on my hips, finally pulling me into him. My arms looped around his neck. "How am I supposed to care for you when I can't even protect you?"
That explained all his paranoia and extra security. Just like Mal, he thought had somehow failed me by letting Stephen get so close to me on Friday. Noah thought he had broken his promise to my brother and hated himself for it. My frustration with the constant surveillance lessened, and my anger swelled.
"Get over your pity party and come back to me, Noah. I need you with me, not stuck in your head and trying to 'do the right thing.'"
My change in tone surprised him. When he tried fighting off a grin, I sagged with relief. "You think I'm being stupid, don't you?"
Tightening my arms around his neck and forcing him to lean down, my lips met his. At the contact, his fingers dug into the top of my backside, holding me tightly to him. Before it could turn into more, he broke away.
"If anything were to happen to you because I couldn't keep you safe, I'd never forgive myself. I'd rather die than see you hurt or in danger. I just got you back. I can't lose you."
"Then quit whatever this over-protective man power trip is that the three of you have going on and let me in."
"You're actually pissed off at us?"
It was the tone of unbelief that punched my raging bitch button. With a push, he stumbled back into the shower wall and my finger was in his face. "You've locked me up in here, by myself, with no way to contact you or Beth, and you expect me to be thankful for it? I don't need babysitters checking in with you or Mal or whoever every hour. I need you. I need Joshua and Mal."
He was trying to keep his voice level. "This is for your safety."
"No!" I snapped at him. "This is about you trying to play hero. You think locking me up and shutting me out is a good way to do that?"
Noah grabbed the back of my neck and yanked me into him, turning us so my back was against the tile, and his palm rested just at the base of my throat, putting just enough pressure there to hold me where he wanted me.
"I should have known you'd have my balls for this."
I did not expect him to say that. He smiled down at me, noting my surprise. "You've never needed us to rescue you when we were younger; why would it be any different now?"
"Come home, Noah. Come home to me."
The hand on my chest pushed a little harder at those words, my breaths causing his hand to rise and fall with them, and he slowly began moving it lower. I tangled my fingers into his hair and rose to my tip toes to kiss his cheek...his chin...along his throat. A low moan vibrated against my lips.
"All of you need to come home to me," I whispered against his lips. "Being here alone and not knowing what you're doing - if you guys are okay - it's killing me. You don't want to lose me, but I can't lose you either. I love you, Noah."
He closed his eyes, savoring the words. I continued. "I've loved you since I was sixteen, and you saved me from that foul ball."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I laughed a little. "Yeah, so way before you finally decided to make your move, we went to the baseball game with Riley. I wasn't paying attention to what was going on; I only agreed to tag along because I was bored."
"You brought a book to the game and were reading the whole time." He still sounded as exasperated with me as he had been twelve years ago.
"You remember what happened? That foul ball was coming right at my head, and you jumped in front of me. It hit you right in the chest, and you were bruised for weeks. Instead of getting angry at me for not paying attention, and even though you could barely breathe, the first thing you did after you got hit was make sure I was okay."
"Who knew all it took was taking a line drive to the chest to get you to notice me."
"At the time, I didn't know what I was feeling was love, but after we got together the next year, I realized that's when it all started for me. You've been making sure I'm okay every day since then. You've always been my protector, even in your misguided way sometimes."
Noah looked down at me, his wet hair falling over his forehead, once again reminding me of that night we had together in the rain. Something was still simmering beneath the surface with him, a heady mix of anger and arousal, and I don't think he had much control over either emotion.
"I love you, Noah. Don't forget that I told you long before I ever said it to Mal."
"I love you, Reggie. You're still my forever."
His lips found mine, gentle and seeking, and it felt just like our first kiss that day in the kitchen. He was telling me so much with that kiss, so much with the way he wrapped me up in his arms as I melted into him. He cupped my ass and lifted, my legs hooking around his waist, and he used my gasp of surprise to slant his mouth over mine.
Under the hot water of the shower, with my trembling body held in his arms and our hearts thundering together with our wants and needs, I let myself get lost in him—lost in love for him. Bliss. Magic. No words were good enough to explain the press of his lips to my throat, how it felt to have his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh on the backs of my thighs, the scratch of his wet shirt over my nipples, and the throb of him between my legs.
His phone rang.
"Ignore it," I moaned into his mouth.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"He'll just keep calling."
My nails scraped over his scalp, holding him to me. "I don't care."
"We're late. Fuck - Reggie." My hand slid between us to palm him. I squeezed. Hard.
"Finish this, Noah."
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
He released me and grabbed his phone from his back pocket. I still gripped him, my efforts now concentrated on undoing his belt.
"Thad," he answered. "We'll be there soon."
"Tell that incredible woman of yours to unhand your cock and dry off."
Noah and I jumped apart, both looking up and around to find the camera. How long had he been watching us - me? Oh God. Where else could he see in this apartment?
Noah looked like he was going to crush his phone. "If it weren't Thanksgiving, I'd let Mal kill him."
"It's Thanksgiving?"
I had completely forgotten about it. I knew it was Thursday, but the holiday was the last thing I had been worried about. He nodded, laughed a little, and turned off the water.
"Thad is having us over for dinner." He scowled. "He's seen you naked. I can't let him live."
I giggled, "It's not the first time."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"Regan Elizabeth Masterson," he warned me. "Tell me right now, or you'll regret it."
I backed away from him, smiling like a maniac, and grabbed a towel to wrap around me. "Seriously, It's not a big deal."
Noah lunged for me, fingers jabbing into my ribs, turning my laughter into shrieks as he tickled me. He lost his footing on the slippery tile for only a second. Squealing, I skittered out of the shower as he chased me into the bedroom.