49
Best drug ever
Brandy-Lyn watched Rafferty storm across the room rubbing at his chest, her best-sex- ever bliss vaporized by the sudden change in him. Within a heartbeat he’d gone from relaxed to rigid.
And that look on his face — pure panic.
She rolled off the bed, found her flannel top, and slipped it on, fastening a button as she walked to the bathroom.
Pausing in the open doorway, she took a moment to absorb the sight of the man bowed over the vanity slab.
It was also the first time she had seen the full scorpion tattoo covering his back this close in full light.
A symbol of his former life forever etched onto his skin.
The tail disappeared into his hair, the body running from his nape down between his shoulder blades, the legs curling up and around his sides, the pinchers gliding over his hips and buttocks.
It was … grimly magnificent.
Except for the scars crisscrossing his back.
Long ragged scars.
The marks of torture.
God Almighty.
He’d been through so much.
Compassion, love , rolled through her, but she held back from approaching. She found a washcloth and wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking before moving closer.
He looked up, and their eyes met in the mirror.
The pain reflected in those pools of blue seared her heart. “Rafferty,” she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He recoiled at her touch, his expression shutting down, shutting her out , as he broke eye contact.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she snapped, poking her index finger into his bicep. “After what we just shared, you do not get to shut me out.”
He shifted sideways and leaned against the marble. “And what, exactly, did we just share?” he sneered, folding his arms.
“Something I’ve never experienced before.”
“You’ve never had an orgasm? I find that hard to believe, Brandy-Lyn. After all, you fucked my brother.” His gaze bore into hers, blazing with something indeterminable. “My twin brother.”
“Don’t be an obtuse dick, Rafferty Lawson. You know what I mean.”
His eyes moved away, and he compressed his lips. “You were a good fuck, Red. But you need to go,” he muttered. “Back to Texas. Forget that ” — he inclined his head toward the bedroom — “happened. It meant nothing to me.”
Brandy stared in disbelief, his words dropping into her heart, one by one, releasing a cold numbing dread. She considered them, turning them over and over.
Need to go. Back to Texas. Forget. Meant nothing.
And for a moment, a mere nanosecond, she considered doing just that. Fuck Rafferty Lawson and all his complexities.
She took him in. Naked and nonchalant, leaning his hip against the vanity unit, seemingly uncaring about the hurtful and damaging words he spouted.
Except …
Hooded stare glued to the floor, studiously avoiding hers.
Lips thinned, jaw clenched, the vein in his neck throbbing.
It was the only movement in his stiff posture.
Her gaze lowered. Arms folded, the knuckles of his exposed hand white, fingers digging into his arm.
Heavy flaccid penis. Thick corded thighs.
One leg bent; foot planted in front of the other.
This is it, Brandy. Fight or flight.
And she recalled the look in his eyes when he ejaculated, emptying not just his semen into her, but also his soul. That connection, that moment of joining was something she would remember for the rest of her life. “Look at me,” she ordered.
“Just go,” Rafferty ground out.
Brandy took a step closer
His entire body tensed even further.
She grabbed hold of his face, cupping it firmly between her palms. “Look. At. Me.”
He dragged his gaze to hers.
Blank. Deep blue pools of absolute nothingness.
The antithesis of everything mere minutes ago.
Fight, Brandy. Fight.
“As you pointed out, I’ve orgasmed before. Hundreds of times. With your twin brother. With Richard. Both were considerate lovers. But what we shared earlier, Rafferty … that was transcendent. And I know you felt it, too, so do not diminish it.”
Ah, a flicker of emotion before he broke free from her hold.
But she kept at it. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s eating you,” she urged.
“Dammit, Red,” he exploded, eyes heated. “You’re fucking relentless.”
“When I’m fighting for what I want, yes.”
“And you want me ? Why?” He slapped a hand to his chest, bewilderment lacing his tone.
“Contrary to what you think, I am not a good man. Living undercover, living a lie for so long eroded my humanity, turning me into a monster. Pure scum of the earth. And sooner than later, you’ll figure it out.
” He shook his head. “It’s best to walk away now. Forget we crossed that line.”
Monster. Scum.
He truly believed those words.
Brandy moved closer, her determination building.
He retreated. “And I have no right being around Connor. I killed his father. Premeditated murder,” he spat, taking another step back.
“And that’s not the only life I’ve taken in cold blood.
That’s what I am — a murderer . I should be rotting in prison for that act alone.
Most certainly not trying to get custody of him and sweet little Nadie. ”
She advanced. He backed away.
“I’ll contaminate you. And Olivia. Preston. Amelia.”
Did he even realize how desolate he sounded?
He hit the wall.
And his gaze darted away, looking everywhere but at her.
She took hold of his face again.
He closed his eyes.
She applied pressure to her fingers. “Look at me.”
He drew in a shuddering breath, and he opened his eyes.
That awful vacant look was back.
She leaned up and in, getting as near as possible. “You’re a good man.”
His hands locked onto her wrists and wrenched them down and behind her. “You’re mistaken. I’m Trick, remember? Always causing problems. Fucking up. The ink on my back marks me as a scorpion. Nasty. And deadly. My brother is the good man,” he bit out. “Not me.”
“Yet I love you . Rafferty Lawson.” This was not how she wanted to say those important words to him the first time, but she was desperate to get through to him. Up on her toes, her body flush to his, she added, “Not your brother. I love you. You .”
He stiffened, holding still for a beat, hard muscles against soft curves. His chest heaved against hers as he sucked in a hard breath and yanked her arms up. Spinning, he reversed their positions and pinned her to the wall, his body vibrating with tension. “How?” he growled.
She frowned, momentarily sidetracked by his penis pressing against her exposed thigh. “How?”
“But how can you love me? Me . The fucked up one.”
His tone … so lost and forlorn. Tears wet her eyes. “Because I see you, Rafferty. The real you.”
“The real me?”
“The man you’ve lost sight of.”
“Enlighten me, Red,” he spat.
“The empathetic man wrapped in a warrior’s frame — that’s the person I desperately, inconveniently, fell in love with.”
“Empathetic?” He barked a laugh, let her go, and stepped away.
The absence of him hit like a void.
His heat. His power.
Gone.
“I’ve been called many things, darlin’, but empathetic is not one of them,” he scoffed.
“You’re kind, intuitive. Compassionate. Tender-hearted. Loving. And a man who will do the unimaginable to protect those he loves. A fighter. Warrior. Protector.”
“You’re delusional.”
“No.” Placing her hands on his shoulder, she nudged him to face the mirror. Her eyes wandered over his body.
Naked. Scarred.
Rafferty Lawson.
Utterly magnificent.
Standing beside him, she said, “Not delusional. Merely a woman who’s fallen in love with a complex man. A man whose life spun out of control while making the world a better place.”
She smoothed her hand over his back, moving over the scars his enemy had inflicted. “A man who endured unimaginable pain yet held on and clawed his way back to his family. A man willing to fight for two orphaned children. That is the man I fell in love with.”
Her gaze challenged him in the mirror. “I just hope that man is prepared to accept my love. And love me back.”
*
Her profound words nibbled away at his steely resolve, leaving it hanging by a single strand.
Loving Brandy-Lyn …
He already did.
With everything inside him.
But being loved by Brandy-Lyn …
That was metamorphic.
It was what he’d been searching for his whole life — knowing there had to be more, yet never quite finding it.
He’d come close with Charlie. But now he understood: the idea of Brandy-Lyn Powers had seared itself into his soul twenty years ago, casting a shadow over everything that came after.
No.
It started even earlier — with Dónal and Saoirse.
Their love had been denied its happy ending, but its power endured, stretching across time and bloodlines to him and Brandy-Lyn.
Accept my love.
Such simple words. Yet not.
Not while Kamila Carvalho posed a threat.
“Red …” He faltered at the flash of disappointment in her eyes.
I see you. The real you.
Not the man he’d become, but the idealistic fool of years ago who’d seen an opportunity to free a group of trafficked women and jumped in without thought of consequence, thereby changing the course of his life.
No longer a soldier in the US Army, but a pawn in the hands of alphabet agencies.
He’d been good, damn good at blending in, entrenching himself in whatever situation he was needed.
Yemeni traffickers, Irish mob, one-percenter MC, drug cartel …
Rafferty Lawson was the man.
A scorpion, burrowing deep, watching his prey, waiting to deliver his sting.
But En Scairp had one last sting to deliver.
After he’d seen to the safety of two vulnerable children.
And ensured his impulsive decision of drawing Brandy-Lyn into his wild custody scheme did not put her in Kamila’s crosshairs.
Her hand dropped away. “Forget—”
“No,” he barked, whirling about, unable to stand the pain in her eyes.