The Stranger Read online

  I was shocked and pleased all at the same time. My cock reacted to her pleasure with the unbearable throbbing that forecasted an imminent explosion. I toyed with the idea of holding back and making her come again, but it was wishful thinking on my part. After all this time, I couldn’t hold back. Her body compressed around me with astonishing strength, persuading me to come along for the ride. Once again, I had no choice.

  I came with her. I came so hard and for so long that my heart about gave out. The extraordinary event that dazzled my body wiped me out. Gone. I was gone from my senses, for how long, I couldn’t tell. Burrowed in her body, I was free of mine, no pain, no burning, no thoughts, on a journey that included only the bliss of her.

  I fought for breath. Even after I returned, when my consciousness slammed me back into my body’s frame, I couldn’t move. My legs refused to hold me. I just lay there, leaning on my elbows, trying to draw in some oxygen, holding on to her as if she were my only way back to the real world, as if in her body I’d discovered a tunnel back to life and her breath was essential to mine.

  She held on to me too, fingers trailing over my back’s patched skin, soothing me with a soft touch that didn’t discriminate against my scars, imbuing my lungs with her tropical scents, absorbing every ounce of me. Wrapped in her arms, I was also enveloped in her affection, as if we were old friends and practiced lovers, as if I had always been meant for her and she had always belonged with me.

  I’d had plenty of sex in my life, but sex like this?

  When my legs finally regained some semblance of strength, I gathered her in my arms and carried her to my bed, where we made love again and many times after that. All night long, the house shook and the storm blew fierce and dangerous around us, but I didn’t care. I had my own storm going and it wasn’t abating. And she? She was the superstorm of a lifetime.

  Chapter Three

  I woke up rested and relaxed, with my head propped up on a comfortable surface that rose and fell in an even cadence and a steady beat drumming against my ear. The neutral scent of baked oats and shea butter filled my lungs, spiced by a distant medicinal note I couldn’t place, sharp, but not unpleasant. I was warm and comfortable and for a long moment, I felt as if I lay on the sand basking in the sun and listening to the surf. Then I remembered something odd. Last I knew, I’d been in Alaska, far away from my favorite Florida beaches, searching for Tammy and on my way to a rustic cabin.

  I sat straight up and took in the place. The ultra-modern king-size bed, the sleek furnishings, and the abstract paintings hanging on the walls made for a luxurious bedroom that couldn’t possibly belong in a wilderness hut.

  I tried to shake off the confusion, but it only got worse when my gaze fell on the man lying next to me. My heart flopped.

  I recognized the amber-eyed stranger who’d picked me up on the highway. Seth. He was also the one who had the potential to be a serial killer. Don’t freak out, Summer, not yet. I repressed a rush of emotion and forced myself to think this through.

  This had to be his house. I was in his bed. Holy crap. Why then wasn’t I scared stiff of him?

  Because of my dream, the only thing I remembered from last night. Safe, a familiar voice echoed in the back of my mind. You are safe.

  Then why the hell was I in Seth’s bed?

  His eyes were closed, but the sides of his mouth were turned up, as if he was having a good dream. Then I noticed he was naked. I was naked. If that wasn’t alarming enough, his dick was swollen to shocking proportions.

  Feel free to freak out anytime now, girlfriend. I dove out the bed like a marlin in full fight. A bloodcurdling scream burst out of my throat and pierced my ears. The man rolled off the bed and landed at a crouch, yellow eyes instantly alert. “What the hell?” He straightened, scanning the room for some unknown danger.

  I ripped the sheet off the bed and covered myself, but I got a full frontal of him. He stood across the bed, revealing impossibly broad shoulders drawn tight at attention, a flat stomach, and sleek limbs with a hint of discreet but efficient muscle that even a guy-averse coward like me could admire. Most shocking were the red patches of mangled skin that blotched his body like malevolent tentacles, and—oh my freaking God—that stubborn erection.

  “Get away from me!” I threw the pillow at him.

  “What the hell?” He caught it in midair and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “What’s your problem?”

  “You’re naked!”

  “You’re naked too.” He dropped the pillow on the bed. “And it didn’t seem to bother you at all last night, when you were walking around my house like Lady Godiva, strutting your stuff, telling me that you wanted it as much as I did...”

  “What do you mean?” A bunch of bricks tumbled in my stomach.

  “Last night?” His eyes widened and his fair eyebrows climbed on his forehead. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “You and me?”

  I shook my head, heart pounding, mind spinning, trying to remember something, anything... “I...” I gulped dryly. “I’ve got nothing.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you don’t remember?”

  It took everything I had to ask. “Remember what, exactly?”

  “Jesus Christ.” He ran his hands over his face, shaking his head. His mouth tightened into a straight white line as anger replaced the confusion distorting his features. “Allow me to refresh your memory,” he said and not kindly. “Last night, you were a fine piece of ass if there ever was one. And just in case you’re scheming, my memory is clear: I didn’t seduce you. I tried to persuade you that it wasn’t a good idea. But you insisted. You came on to me.”

  No, no, no. Holy shit. I had seduced him? Oh my freaking God and all the saints, please, don’t let it be true. I felt the tilt as I started to slide down a very steep cliff. Not again. My thoughts sputtered. Maybe it was all a lie. Proof, I needed proof. Beneath the sheet, my hand shot to the space between my legs. My fingers found the evidence. The bottom dropped out from under my world and my stomach led the plunge as I fell into the void.

  “Is it true?” I couldn’t breathe. “Did you—? Did we—?”

  “Hell, yeah,” he said. “We did and you were really up for it.”

  Run. It was the only thing I could think to do. Escape. The pressure building in me propelled me toward the door. Out, I needed a way out, out of this room, out of this house. I bolted blindly from the bedroom, into a hallway, past a huge bathroom and through a set of doors that dead-ended in an enormous walk-in closet. I slammed the door behind me and dove to the back of the closet, where I wedged myself in the corner between rows of fine jackets and hugged my knees to my chest.

  My heart pummeled my breastbone. My belly churned. I really, really wanted to throw up. I was beyond shocked, mortified. My impulse was to hide, from him, from the world. I banged the back of my head against the wall. It had happened. Despite my best efforts and after years of precautions, my worst nightmare had been realized.

  I wanted the earth to swallow me. I wanted to disappear from this place. Instead, there was a knock and Seth slipped in through the door, fully dressed in his sweats and a T-shirt, thank God. I snatched one of the jackets from the rack and draped it over my naked self. The grim expression on his face chilled my gut.

  “So,” he said. “You are Alex’s tool.”

  “I’m nobody’s tool!”

  “If you think you can take me for a fool, you’re wrong,” he spat in his exacting tone. “I’m going to beat you at your game.”

  “I’m not working for anyone!” And I didn’t need his paranoia on top of everything else.

  “Don’t you dare play victim with me.” He poked an accusatory finger in the air. “You were a willing fuck last night. You’re in for a huge surprise if you think you can con me, or sue me, or worse—”<
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  “Stop it!” The tears burned in my eyes. “I’m not going to do any of that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

  I blinked through the sting and took a deep, rattling breath. “I’m not going to sue you, or accuse you of anything. I’m not that kind of person.”

  The furrows deepening on his forehead betrayed his confusion. “So you’re not in this for the money?”

  “What money?” I clenched my teeth and found my backbone. “And who the hell are you anyway?”

  “You swear you don’t know?”

  “Give me a break,” I muttered. “I thought you were an Alaskan mountain man living in a wilderness shack somewhere. But look at this house, this closet.” I gestured around me. “Unless you hunt in Italian silk, you’re no frigging mountain man.”

  “I run my family’s company.”

  “Great, wonderful, good for you,” I said. “By the look of all this, it must be quite the company. But I don’t give a crap about your money.”

  That shut him up, but only for a moment.

  “So you remember, right?” he said. “You remembered what happened last night?”

  “No.” A bunch of fat tears escaped my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.

  “You have no recollections whatsoever of anything that happened?”

  “None.” I swallowed the sob stuck in my throat. “Give me thirty seconds to get my head on straight and I’ll get the hell out of here.”

  “You’re leaving?” His frown was now permanently stamped on his face. “Just like that?”

  “Of course I’m leaving!” I sniffled. “I just need a moment.”

  The spot between his brows wrinkled into an inverted V. His yellow eyes fixed on me. “Can you please stop crying? It’s very unsettling to have a woman sobbing in my closet.”

  “I’m trying.” I wiped my tears but dammit, more kept coming.

  “Let me see if I understand this clusterfuck.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “You don’t remember a thing about last night, but you’re willing to believe that things happened exactly as I say?”

  I nodded.

  The V deepened between his eyebrows. “Why?”

  It was an excellent question, but there was no way I was ever going to tell him about my past, or about my dream, the only thing I remembered about last night. It replayed in my mind now, fresh and vivid.

  In my dream, Seth had been lying on the snow, rolling on it, relishing it like a child playing in the sand. And suddenly the snow had turned to sand and the sand had turned into a beach where the waves drew a ruffled pattern before retreating into the vast ocean that stretched out to the horizon. From the sea’s emerald waters, my mother emerged, black hair streaming with kelp wreaths, face gleaming with shimmering trickles of water.

  “Trust him,” she said in her quiet way. “Loneliness is a sorry state of the soul. You needed him and he needed you. You offered, he accepted. Don’t be afraid. You are safe. He will not harm you.”

  My mother disappeared beneath the ocean. The ocean retreated into the wave, and the wave became the sand, which turned back into the snow where Seth swam in the confines of his frozen sea. Maybe I was nuts, but I knew that the man before me hadn’t hurt me, because my mother only came to me when I was in need and she never lied in my dreams.

  Of course I couldn’t tell any of that to Seth. He’d think for sure I was a lunatic if I did.

  “Well?” he demanded. “Why the hell would you believe me if what you say is true and you can’t remember squat about last night?”

  “I...um...I have a hunch you’re a straight shooter.”

  He tilted his head, his face openly skeptical. “You hardly know me.”

  “I’ve got a sense for people,” I mumbled. “Um...never mind.”

  “No, please.” He rolled a hand in the air. “By all means, explain.”

  He didn’t look nearly as furious as before, although his eyes bore into me like golden blades.

  “I can’t really explain,” I said. “I just...know. Besides...”

  “What?”

  “I know the risks.”

  His frown deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Damn the tears flooding my eyes again. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m sure it was really weird last night.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I get it, okay?” I gritted my teeth. “I already apologized, so let’s just forget about it.”

  “You want me to forget what happened between us?”

  “Yeah, I think it would be best.” I took a deep breath and steadied my voice. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll call Roadside Assistance and then I’ll leave. You’ll never hear from me again. End of story.”

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “Why can’t you remember what happened last night?”

  I groaned. “Can we please be done with this conversation? The only thing I ask of you is that we keep this between us. Promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

  He clenched and unclenched his fists. “So now you think I’m some sort of a creep who goes around talking up his sexual exploits or something?”

  “No, but—”

  “Forgive me if I’m being pushy, but I’ve got a naked woman crying buckets in my house who says she doesn’t remember anything about a very intimate encounter that I recall to the last vivid detail.”

  I blushed, wishing fervently that I could click my heels and disappear from the closet.

  “So,” he said, “I think I should get some answers.”

  “You won’t believe me.” A new flood of tears distorted his image. “And even if you did, you won’t like my answer.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” he said. “Now, can you please answer the question?”

  “Will you leave me alone if I do?”

  “Maybe,” he said, “if you tell me the truth.”

  The stubborn set of his mouth announced his resolve. This man was no fool. He wasn’t a pushover either. I needed to get away. But I also recalled his concerns about someone in his family who wanted to set him up. I didn’t understand any of that, but I figured he wasn’t going to let me walk away unless I answered his questions and cleared his suspicions.

  I more or less mumbled, “I wasn’t awake.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

  “I said I wasn’t awake, last night, when we did it.”

  His eyebrows clashed over his nose in the sort of blood-curdling frown I’d never forget. “Are you telling me that you were asleep when we had sex?”

  Of course it would sound crazy to him. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and stuck out my chin. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. I was sleepwalking.”

  I watched Seth process what I had just said. Disgust? Loathing? Disbelief? My stomach clenched. His gaze fastened on my face with such intensity I had to look away.

  “You walk in your sleep,” he said flatly. “And you don’t remember anything that happens when you’re sleepwalking.”

  “That’s the short of it.”

  “Pardon my French,” he said. “But are you shitting me?”

  “See?” I threw my hands up in the air. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

  He paced the span of the walk-in closet. “I’ve heard some morning-after stories, but yours? Man, yours trumps them all.”

  “It’s not a story.”

  “Maybe I could believe you if I hadn’t been there.” He stomped back and forth, big bare feet pounding on the carpet. “But you were awake, very awake.”

  “I told you the truth,” I said. “Now leave me alone. What does it matter to you anyway?”

  “Oh, it matters to me all r
ight.” He halted midstride, planted his feet apart and faced me. “This is all wrong on so many levels. First off, I don’t like the idea that you think I’m such a creep I’d want to have sex with someone in their sleep. I’m not oblivious. I would’ve noticed if you’d been asleep.”

  “It’s not always so easy to tell.”

  “Explain.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Explain.” He insisted. “I was there last night. I’ve got a right to know.”

  God, I really wanted to end this conversation. But he was determined. I wouldn’t be able to leave until he made sense of this mess and the stupid tears kept coming, making it hard for me to think clearly. How I hated crying. It was such a wasteful, useless thing to do. I was strong. I could do this.

  I took a deep breath and spoke tentatively, trying to keep the quiver from my voice. “I suffer from a sleep disorder that’s triggered by certain conditions.”

  He rumbled. “Go on.”

  “I’m not crazy or anything like that.”

  If you say so, his eyes said, but he just nodded. “Okay.”

  “Fatigue, illness, and stress are all factors that trigger the disorder,” I offered cautiously. “I was suffering from some of those last night, plus jet lag.”

  “How does this...’disorder’ work?”

  “First, I’m overwhelmed by a sense of exhaustion,” I said. “Then I get this headache, right behind my eyes. Sometimes, without warning, I just fall asleep. I go into slow-wave NREM sleep stage and I wander. That’s what happened last night.”

  “But...” He grappled for words. “I saw you. I swear. You were not asleep.”

  “I might have seemed awake to you,” I said. “But believe me, I was asleep and that’s why I can’t remember.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  Because warnings were dangerous. “I told you to lock the door.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “If what you’re saying is true, you should’ve warned me.”

  He was right but he was also very wrong. The last time I’d warned someone about my condition, things hadn’t gone very well for me. I gave a little shrug. There was nothing I could say in my defense.