Beverly Barton - The Outcast

Without saying another word, Reece walked toward her. Elizabeth saw the anger and determination in his eyes, and for one split second she sensed something else in Reece- sorrow-and she held on to that fleeting emotion when he lifted her into his arms and tossed her down on the bed. She had no time to adjust her body or focus her mind before Reece came down on top of her, his big, hard body pressing her into the mattress. He gave his hands free rein to explore her body. He squeezed her breasts. He delved his hand between her tightly clenched legs, rubbing the side of his hand against her intimately. When she tried to roll away from him, he straddled her body, placing a knee on each side of her hips.

Elizabeth looked up at his hard face, into those lone-wolf amber eyes, and knew there was no way she could control this man, that she was completely at his mercy. "Don't do this, Reece. Stop trying to make me hate you."

Reece slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her thermal top, shoving it up over her stomach to the swell of her breasts. She grabbed his hands, momentarily stopping him, but he manacled her wrists in his grasp and lifted her hands over her head, flattening them on the pillow.

"I don't want you to hate me, honey. I want you to love me and love me and love me. All night long.''

"No, Reece. Stop it. Now!"

He nuzzled her tummy with his nose, nudging the edge of her thermal top higher and higher until her round, full breasts were exposed. Elizabeth sucked in her breath, a surge of uncertainty and sensual longing combining within her.

She hated the way Reece was acting, but despite his deplorable behavior, her body ached with wanting, with the need for his touch.

"Great boobs, Lizzie. Just the way I like them. Big and firm." Leaning over her, he flicked one of her nipples with his tongue.

Groaning, she twisted and turned, struggling against his hold. "Don't, Reece. Please. Not like this."

Ignoring her pleas, he suckled her breast. She cried out from the pleasure of his touch and the pain in her heart. He released her trapped hands, ran his fingertips down her throat, over her breasts and into the waistband of her thermal bottoms. He eased the bottoms down enough to expose her navel and hips.

Reece forced himself to look at Elizabeth, to endure the hurt he knew he would see on her face. She stared at him, tears trapped in the corners of her eyes. The sight of those tears weakened him, but he forged ahead, sure he was right in what he was doing-saving Elizabeth from Reece Landry.

"You see how it is with me, Lizzie. I'm a sorry bastard who doesn't give a damn how you feel. I take what I want, and to hell with the consequences." He unzipped his jeans, lowered himself atop her and gave her a hard, forceful kiss. "I'm mean, honey. Mean enough to kill. I'm no good through and through."

Elizabeth tried to speak, tried to tell him that she didn't believe him, that somewhere buried beneath all that pain and anger and bitterness was a good man. A man who had been unloved and abused all his life, a man in desperate need of someone to care. But she couldn't form the words, couldn't get the sound past the knot of tears lodged in her throat. All she could do was cry.

Reece watched the tears well up in her eyes and spill over, streaming down her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell in quick, jerky undulations. Her mouth opened to release her gasping sobs.

He couldn't bear the sight of her tears. He knew she wasn't crying for herself, but for him. After the way he had treated her, she still cared. Damn her! He hadn't frightened her; he had hurt her. He hadn't run her off; he'd made her cry.

She lifted her hands up to him, touching the side of his face with her fingertips. Her touch burned him, like a cleansing fire cauterizing a wound. The pain surged through him. He fought the healing effects of her pure, loving concern. He couldn't care about this woman. He wouldn't!

Reece jumped off the bed, zipped up his jeans and reached for the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. Opening the liquor, he tilted the bottle, placed it to his lips and took a choking swallow. He coughed several times.

"You're a fool to stay with me. Why the hell don't you leave while you still can?" He took another gulp of the whiskey, wincing from the impact as it seared a path down his throat.

Wiping away the tears she could not control, Elizabeth pulled up her thermal bottoms and jerked down the top, then got out of the bed. How could she ever make him understand that she couldn't leave him even if she wanted to? No one else could save him. Aunt Margaret knew and so did she. Even if someone else could prove his innocence and set him free, no one else could free him from the anger and hatred that had ruled his life. Only she could do that.

She laid her hand on his back. Every muscle in his body tensed.

Not turning around, Reece lashed out at her. "I could have raped you, Lizzie. Why the hell are you still here? Aren't you afraid to be in the same room with me?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him. His body remained rigid. "Don't you think I knew what you were trying to do?"

He covered her hands with his own where she held him tightly at the waist. "I was trying to get me some, honey, but you weren't cooperating." Prizing her hands from his body, he pulled away from her.

Elizabeth sighed. "You were trying to scare me away, trying to prove to me what a rotten, no-good skunk you are."

Reece turned around slowly. "You think you're so damned smart, don't you?"

"I'm not leaving, so you might as well cut the rest of this macho-idiot act!"

"You have got to be the most stubborn, bullheaded woman I've ever known!" Reece unzipped his jeans, pulled them off and tossed them on the floor.

Elizabeth stared at his naked body.

"If you want to stay, then stay." Reece lay down on the bed. "I've had a long, strenuous day and things are bound to be worse tomorrow. I'm going to get some sleep." He punched one of his pillows several times, bunched it into a wad and stuck it under his head. "You can do whatever the hell you want to do."

Reece turned out the nightstand lamp, pulled the covers up over himself and closed his eyes. Elizabeth stood in the middle of the motel room, her gaze riveted to Reece Landry. Why, of all the men on earth, had the good Lord in heaven sent her a man like this? A man who could shield his heart and his mind from her. A man who fought her efforts to help him every inch of the way. A man so scarred by his past that he was afraid to trust another human being.

Elizabeth turned back the covers and crawled into bed beside Reece, then pulled the covers up to her neck. Lying there quietly and unmoving, all she could think about was the way Reece looked naked. Big, tall, muscular. His arms, legs and chest covered with dark brown hair. He possessed an aura of strength and ruggedness, from his thick, overly long brown hair to his wide chest, to his impressive manhood.

Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of the way Reece had touched her, the memory of his lips at her breasts, his hands fondling her to the point of arousal. As the minutes passed, Elizabeth relaxed, her mind centered on the big, naked man lying beside her. She drifted off into sleep, succumbing to dreams of Reece Landry. His smile. His amber eyes. His naked, aroused body covering her.

Reece lay awake for hours, feigning sleep but unable to rest knowing that Elizabeth lay next to him. She'd fallen asleep quite some time ago. The sleep of the innocent. A clear conscience and a pure heart.

He'd done some damn fool things in his life, but his actions with Elizabeth tonight had to top the list. Had he actually been stupid enough to think she'd fall for his rapist act? He had spent four days alone with her in her cabin and had allowed her to get to know him, the real Reece Landry, the man he barely knew himself.