Out of the Past Pt. 04

She went white as a sheet. "I couldn't wait! Two more years and I would have been knocked up with your cousin, against my will!"

He turned and slammed his fists into the marble counter. "I know that now. If you had told me things might have been different."

"And if you had told me things would be different!"

Sebastian began to laugh. And laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

"Sebastian?"

He kept laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but it's laugh or go mad. Neither of us trusted one another back then and apparently history is repeating itself. So let's be honest, let's not hold anything back this time. I lied about the money. Oh, yes, it's spent, but I could have gotten you all of it and more in an hour.

"I wanted you with me, I wanted revenge. You broke my heart in a way no other girl or woman ever has and I wanted to do the same. Only it backfired. God damn it Claire, I'm still in love with you. You've changed, but you're still smart, determined, independent, and sexy as hell. I love you."

She stared at him and he felt his heart hammer rapidly. In the chess game they had been playing this left him more vulnerable than any other move. She could turn, gloat, march out the room and get dressed, demand her money and leave him for good.

Silently he began to pray to every god ever worshipped as the seconds ticked by into minutes. She too was frozen, thoughts wild, body still. At long last Claire sighed.

"I'm tired of running. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tried of being scared."

Hope began to buoy his heart. "And?" He prompted.

Another sigh. "And I don't know what comes next. I can't live my life longer than the next moment."

"All right. So give me that." He crossed to her and took her hands in his.

Claire looked up into his eyes and a tear slipped free. He bent down and kissed it, forcing himself to be patient as she gathered her courage. Now that he'd said the words he needed to hear them more than anything in the world.

If she said she loved him he'd turn his back on the company, on the family for her. There were no more ties in the world to anything but her, if she only claimed them. He clamped his lips shut, not voicing these promises, not wanting to force her choice.

"And...I can't think about anything until this matter is settled, until the man who killed my friend and all those people is rotting in jail."

"So we'll find him, the police will. We'll lay low until they do-"

"I know who he is."

"What!?"

Claire nodded. "At the press conference we just watched, standing right behind the spokesman, the Mountie with the mustache, that's him. That's the killer."

***

He needed a patsy. Luckily no one knew he'd come to Chicago, his cover was he'd been fishing at his cabin fifty miles from Manitoba. It had worked, though, appearing at the press conference.

When Sharon died all traces of her private little informant disappeared with her, the local police and Mounties knew nothing. Sure enough Claire Willoughby had disappeared but with one phone call he knew where she was.

The British Virgin Islands, not a bad spot. On a private island with her little friend. He'd hired guards but made a classic mistake. Privacy worked both ways. And on his journey to Chicago he'd discovered some family secrets, and had the perfect patsy.

They had come looking for him after the anonymous call, finding him at his cabin, one step ahead of them. His buddy Frank, an alcoholic whom he kept supplied with a steady stream of beer had vouched for him. His carefully panned alibis for all the hits had worked and a few other Mounties had stayed on for an afternoon of fishing and drinking, laughing at the thought one of their own could be a killer.

In the two weeks since he'd retired, had a nice dinner, and was now for all the world to see fishing and hunting full time. The whole incident wasn't even noted on his record. T was easy to slip in and out of the country if you knew how, easier to find his patsy.

The man was bitter. Forced out of the family company by his own nephew, still lusting for his step daughter now fucking that same nephew...no one else on earth had more motivation. Sebastian Kellner had even attacked him, and his young wife witnessed it all.

All he had to do was plant the suggestion and it fell into place. Michael Kellner didn't even stop to ask what he gained from it, just offered him a payoff for his help.

Smiling, Jonathon booked their flight to Tortola.

***

Jonathon Baroni. The name haunted her dreams. She saw him killing the gigolo, saw him chasing her through the parking garage and streets of Toronto. Claire often dreamed of sitting in the coffee shop with Sharon, listening to the grisly details of his murders. As she went on she began to rot, still speaking.

Every time Claire woke up in a cold sweat, and Sebastian would hold her close, smoth her hair, kiss her temple until it faded.

The police assured them they were safe. Claire had elected to contact them but asked to remain anonymous. When nothing came over the news she had grown frustrated, Sebastian too. When she read Jonathon Baroni had retired terror snuck in.

Sebastian had hired security, three men who worked in shifts occupying the guest house and patrolling the grounds. It didn't help her peace of mind.

Still the days with Sebastian were amazing. They had lost a measure of privacy but he kept her distracted and enthralled. Sometimes they sat and watched a movie, or played a board game. They cooked together, walked the beach together, swam together. It was like a strange honeymoon of sorts, living on top of one another, and the passion...

She closed her eyes and remembered each and every time. He was creative, and better yet, open minded. If she shyly voiced a desire to try something he accommodated her. So far her favorite activity with him was after swimming. God, she loved watching him stroke through the water, particularly the ocean waves.

His body was so powerful, when he swam it was like poetry in motion. After he would be tired and sore, and she brought him inside, laid him on one of the beds, and massaged him. It didn't take long to work the kinks form his muscles and she loved the feel of his hard body and smooth skin beneath her hands.

She stroked and massaged until his body seemed to flow and he was bagging, and then she turned him over.

Smiling now she shifted on the chaise in the sun, enjoying the warming rays bronzing her skin. She was wet already and wanted nothing more than to relieve the pressure, but one of those silent security guards was near, she knew. Claire didn't want anyone watching her but Sebastian as she remembered the way his hands reached for her, forcing her to jump away.

She would stroke everything from the tendons in his cheeks to his toes and just when he was as hard as physically possible, his cock dripping with precum, just when he begged her with fierce demands, she would laugh and then engulf him with her mouth.

He tasted so good, felt like velvet over steel in her mouth. She'd cup his heavy balls with on hand and pin his chest with the other, delighting in her power over him. Sebastian was always ready to cum so fast those times but Claire never let him, pulling back when he got close.

He knew how she loved watching him those times, eyes wide open as she slid her mouth down his cock, and that he let her was the most powerfully arousing thing Sebastian could do. Three, four times she would let him get close, those balls tightening until she had to make a ring around their base with her thumb and forefinger and hold them back. Finally when he was nearly broken she let him cum, filling her mouth, practically screaming with his release.

With a sigh she had to stop the memory there. Sebastian was a quid pro quo kind of guy and every single thing he let her do to him he returned the favor with.

Beneath her bikini her nipples were hard points and she was sure the yellow bottoms were visibly damp. It had only been two hour since their last interlude, a quick, furious coupling in the downstairs bathroom on the counter. She remembered how he'd slammed into her, their mouths fused, and her body sizzled from toes to scalp.

She stood and stretched, seeing Sebastian at the counter chopping fruit for a snack. She smiled at him and smoothed her hands over his body, seeing his eyes sharpen even twenty feet away.

Damn, it would be so easy to love that man. The thought made her stumble, and she covered by stopping to grab her towel, slowly wrapping it around her waist. He'd said he loved her and though he hadn't said the words in the two weeks since it showed. It showed in the way he laughed at her bad jokes, the way he held her after nightmares, the way he held her after, o matter how furious and fast the sex might be.

Her heart beat rapidly and she remembered his patience. She had said she could not live her life until this chapter ended. Once Baroni was dead or behind bars then she could decide how she felt. Yeah, that seemed right.

Her smile returned and she strode in, aware of how he had watched the play of thoughts across her face.

"Hello," she purred amorously.

He wore a khaki shirt over swim trunks, open, the sleeves rolled back. Most of the fruit he was chopping was imported but fresh. She smelled mangoes, oranges, pineapple, and strawberries. "Mmmm, smells delicious."

Striding over as he set the knife down she snagged a piece of mango and popped it into her mouth, delighting at the juicy sweetness.

"Not so fast!" He slapped playfully at her hand. Claire just raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to arrange a nice plate and you messed it all up. Come here."

At the sensual challenge in his voice she slowly moved closer into his personal space as he turned. Sebastian undid her towel and let it fall to the cool tile floor then reached up behind her head and undid the tie on her halter top.

Her tan lines were minimal, they draped towels over the balcony sides and tanned there as well naked. Still her breasts were a slightly cooler shade of creamy tan. He cupped them, thumbs ghosting lightly over her nipples. "Guess I'll have to improvise."

He took one uncut half of mango and brought it to her breast, pressing it onto a hard nipple and twisting. Claire gasped at the cold sensation and he just winked, bending down. He replaced the fruit with his hot mouth, lapping up the juices, following them as they trailed down over her stomach.

Claire gasped, giggling at the slight tickle and clutching his broad shoulders. Not missing a beat she picked up a strawberry and when he rose offered it to him to bite. Sebastian did with an exaggerated expression, making her laugh.

She pushed him back and he gripped the counter. Running the berry down the center of his stomach she bent now, licking and nipping. It was his turn to gasp and clutch her, and she stopped at last, having pushed his trunks low.

"Damn it," said with a smile as a security guard walked past the edge of the pool.

He grabbed the cutting board and put his arm around her waist, walking her to the den. There he set the board on the coffee table and grabbed her, kissing her deep. They sank to the floor and passed the late afternoon playing, discovering new tastes and sensations. Sebastian moaned with delight at the taste of orange on her nipples, mango at her pussy, and Claire loved strawberries on his body, pineapple on his cock.

They teased and cavorted for hours until both half mad and then she climbed astride. He grabbed her hips, slamming her down, and began to move her, controlling them both. She clutched at him, full, aching, ravenous for more. She was close, so close, and then he lay back and she could move her hand between them. It took only a few quick strokes against her clit and she exploded. Sebastian let go and slammed hard into her, deeper than ever before and filled her deeply.

After they lay together panting and exhausted, sticky and messy, laughing as they lazily licked drying juices from one another's skin.

"We're going to have to bleach the carpet," he said.

Her mind racing she laughed at that a little long until he asked why. "Canadians are so polite. I remember reading somewhere this translator for what was said in parliament and what it really meant. 'If the member would forward their questions I would be happy to address the manner' apparently means 'I yearn to bleach your skull and use it on my desk as a novelty pencil holder.' Sharon and I loved that, whenever anyone treated the waitresses bad we used to say 'I'd be happy to address the manner' and laugh."

She lay atop him now, Sebastian soft but still inside her. He stroked her back. "I'm sorry about your friend."

A realization slammed into her. "I am too."

"What?" He raised his head. "What is it?"

She reached down behind his head and tugged the tie from his hair, spreading the auburn locks free. "Life is short. Sometimes shorter than we think."

Quietly he watched her.

Claire gathered her courage. The excuses...they were just excuses. "I didn't want to love you. I was angry, I thought you were capricious like the rest of them. I knew you were lying about the money but I wanted some place safe to stay and figure things out. I don't know how to process this but you are that safe place. I- I love you, Sebastian."

He just blinked for a long moment then let out whoop. Sitting up he almost knocked her aside and then wrapped his arms around her, catching her, and kissing her senseless. Soon they were laughing, dizzy, feeling light.

They awkwardly stood, dismounting in the process and he grabbed her hand and lead her upstairs to the shower. There under the warm spray he fairly worshipped her and she him, slowly this time, letting their bodies, lips, and fingers speak for them.

After, wrapped in towels on the bed, Claire lay back against Sebastian, his arms holding her tight. Both were wondering the same thing but she didn't want to speak, to break the spell. This was living in the moment, Claire knew. Sebastian had a life and she had a past, and neither could move forward until both were reconciled.

She dazed lightly and was jerked awake by the phone on the bedside.

"I'll get it," Sebastian sleepily said.

She snuggled deeper against him, chilled by her wet hair and the air conditioning, delighting in the warm muscle cushioning her as he stretched the grab the phone.

"Hello. Fu- No. No! She hasn't, what the hell are you talking about? Wait-"

She turned in his arms and Sebastian gave her an anguished look. Claire bit her lip to keep from interrupting the terse conversation. Sebastian was listening to the speaker, his eyes nearly frantic.

"No. No! God damn it, Michael, no! How did you-" Sebastian held the phone away. "He hung up."

"That was Michael? What happened!?"

He hung the receiver up slowly and leaned back against the pillows. "That was Michael. He said he's left his wife. He asked if she'd contacted me. He says he's willing to sign papers and drop the legal battle over the company if I agree to ignore her."

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know but he said he's coming here. I told him no but he hung up."

"Why now?"

"I beat the hell out of him, scared him plenty. He's done things since, things I can prove. I could have him arrested but since we've been here, I decided-"

The phone rang again and he reached over, grabbed the line to the wall, and yanked. It ripped out completely broken, but he sighed and tossed it down, uncaring.

"Yes?"

He looked back to her. "I decided to give him the company. I'm done. I didn't want to scare you or pressure you, but I'll be a free man. Wherever in the world you want to go, I want to be with you."

Shock rolled through her. "You'd do that? For me?"

"In the years you've been gone I've been a machine. I live in the very house my mother died in, never knowing if she threw herself down the stairs to escape her brother and father or someone-" He broke off, his voice choking on a sob until he sighed. "I live like a ghost haunting that place. I have no life. I go to work and I am nothing but cruel and calculating. I meet women and I'm the same way. I can count on on hand the number of times I've laughed in the last five years before you returned.

"I don't want to go back to that. I have my own money, we have your money. We can live here or anywhere we want. Even if it meant being poor an eking out an existence in some forgotten corner of the world, I don't care, as long as it's with you."

Claire had no response but to reach over, cup his head, and kiss him soundly.

***

"Sebastian?"

"Shhh."

It was the middle of the night. There was no clock, both had agreed to keep clocks out of sight, but the ocean and sky out the window were both black. Something had woken her but now all they heard was the gentle pound of the surf.

That was it. The pool lights and filter were off, the pathway lights were off, and no lights were on in the guest house. Claire tensed as Sebastian stood and crossed to the dresser, pulling out pants.

"What are you doing? Call the guards!"

"Someone is here. That's what woke me, I heard a cry. Tony was on duty and I think someone knocked him out."

"Or killed him. Sebastian, we need to get to a neighbors, call the police."

He smoothed his hair back and skimmed his hands along the dresser top for a hair band. "You're right. Get dressed, quickly."

She slid from the bed and opened the closet, pulling out a dress and sliding it over her head. She grabbed a pair of flip flops as he slid on his shoes and pulled out a shirt.

Claire fought her shivers. "I don't like this, Michael calls and now this."

"You don't think Baroni is working with him, do you?"

She considered. "I would normally say that's ludicrous, but Baroni...I'm sure he's the one who followed me back in Chicago. It wouldn't be hard for him to find out about you, about Michael and...shit, what am I saying? Michael's no good to him."

"Don't be so sure." Sebastian opened the other closet and began rooting around. "My first instinct when he asked if his wife called was to call her. What if she were to try and lure me from the island, leave you alone?"

"What are you looking for? We need to go!"

"My gun. Ah, here." He held it up and in the dimmest moonlight she saw something huge and old.

"Sebastian, I don't like this."

"The Moodys live next door, their son is here with friends. Let's just get down to the front gate and go there, call the police. I shouldn't have unplugged the damned phone."

"There's one downstairs, our cell phones are in the den. Let's grab one first."

He thought for a moment and held out his hand. "All right, come on."

He led her into the hall which was silent, eerily to her ear. The blood was rushing now, heart pumping, and Claire tried to walk quietly behind him. She was shaking, but with a squeeze of his hand it dawned on her that she wasn't alone. Sebastian was smart, level-headed, and strong. She was quick on her toes but she didn't have to do this alone. They'd do just as he said and everything would be all right.

Downstairs they crossed the back patio doors heading for the den when something shattered. Sebastian cried out then he was on top of her, rolling as they hit the ground. She cried out and then something heavy hit them and Sebastian went sprawling. The gun spun from his hand and as Claire shook her head to clear it someone stepped through the now shattered door and kicked it away.

"Ten minutes," an unfamiliar voice said.

The form above her laughed. It was her stepfather Michael. "What the hell!?"

Sebastian and the other man were rolling now in a bear hug, trading punches, but it was so dark she couldn't see much more as she scooted back and away from the man who had haunted her nightmares for years.