Oleander, page 7
Under the bubbling water of the jets, she let her fingers glide over her breasts. Her breath hitched when she flicked her nipples. She had no experience with touching herself. She had no experience feeling arousal that was self-induced or even consensual. But this felt good, thinking of him while she pinched her nipples.
He'd looked at her with that lusty glaze when he’d seen her naked in this bathroom last night. She didn’t think he’d minded that she was petite with small breasts. Hell, in her experience, it didn’t seem most men minded.
“Kally?”
She immediately bolted to sitting upright at the sound of her name coming through the door. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, yeah, uh-huh.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes,” she said without thinking or hesitating.
The door opened a moment later, and Jagger’s gaze came to hers. He froze in the doorway with his hand on the knob. He stared for several seconds before looking down. “Sorry. Uh, why did you say I could come in if you weren’t dressed?”
A flush warmed her cheeks, and she slid back into the water, covering her breasts with her hands. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I’m not used to having the choice to say no to someone.”
He nodded. “I was worried about you. You’ve been in here a long time.”
“I’m so sorry.” She reached for the button to turn off the jets and then lifted the stopper in the tub. “I’ll hurry.”
“Kally, honey. You’re not in trouble. You don’t need to hurry. I was just worried. You’re fine. Take your time. Don’t rush. I’ll go back downstairs.” He shut the door, leaving her feeling awkward and kicking herself for touching herself and lingering in the tub. She had no idea how long she’d been in here. How inconsiderate.
Chapter Seven
Jagger could have kicked himself for opening that door. He’d had only one thing in mind, fear. Not only had she been in there a while, but she hadn’t responded the first few times he’d called her name.
The way she’d bolted upright when he’d opened the door had made him feel like an ass. Considering how tight and hard her nipples had been, he suspected he’d interrupted her and felt even worse.
He’d offered her a safe place to be alone, and then he’d violated that offer by interrupting it. He was still kicking himself in the kitchen when he heard her enter.
He turned around from facing the stove to find her shuffling into the room, wearing an outfit similar to last night’s. Brown leggings, a thick tan sweater, and socks. Her hair was combed this time, and the ringlets hung all around her, making her look like an angel.
She was fidgeting again, her gaze on the floor. “I’m sorry I took so long and scared you.”
He came to her, stroked her arms, and tipped her head back, needing to make a few things clear. “You don’t need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have walked in on you. It was inconsiderate. I’m the one who should apologize. I told you I wouldn’t bother you, and then I did.”
“It’s your house,” she pointed out.
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have the right to violate your privacy, Kally.” She was clearly struggling to believe that. Sometimes, she stared at him with a look that indicated she was wavering between reality and the warped world she’d been taught to believe in. She would need deprogramming as if she’d been in a cult.
He suspected he’d completely stopped her from finishing what she’d started in the tub. Especially considering how fast she’d come downstairs after his interruption. Shit.
“Come. Let’s eat. You have to be starving.” He slid a hand down her arm, tugged her hand free from where it was tangling with the other hand, and backed up, luring her with him. “I thought we’d sit at the island if that’s okay.”
She nodded before hesitantly climbing onto the stool.
“Is there anything you don’t like?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Okay. Then I’ll pile your plate up with food, and whatever you don’t like, you don’t have to eat.” He filled her plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, pancakes, and berries.
When he set it in front of her, her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God. Jagger…”
“What’s wrong?” He wasn’t sure what her shock was from. She hated breakfast? She thought it wasn’t enough? She thought it was too much? She didn’t like her eggs scrambled? Anything was possible.
“It smells so good.” She didn’t look at him. Her gaze was on the plate. “I haven’t had…well, any of these things in so long.” Her hand was shaking as she reached out and picked up a berry. “Is this a blackberry?” She finally glanced at him.
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”
He forced himself not to react as she broke his heart. Her lack of exposure to nutritious food extended back far longer than her captivity. He knew this after printing out the report Malinsky had sent him this morning. It was sitting on the island in front of her in a folder. He intended to talk to her about it after they ate.
“Try it, honey,” he encouraged.
She set it down carefully as if she didn’t want to bruise it. “I’ll wait for you.”
No. No, no, nope. No. He lifted her chin. “This is not a formal dinner in a five-star restaurant, Kally. It’s breakfast at home. You don’t have to wait for me to start eating. Just dig in.”
Her face turned pink. She swallowed. “Okay,” she murmured.
He released her, headed back to the stove, filled a second plate, and returned. She hadn’t moved. “Kally…” he warned. He didn’t want to be bossy. She’d endured enough of that. But he did want her to be assertive even if he had to demand it.
“I…” She licked her lips. “I couldn’t.”
He picked up the carefully placed blackberry and held it to her lips. “Try it.”
She opened her mouth and accepted it.
He watched as she chewed it, and the sun got brighter when she smiled. Fuck me.
“It’s delicious.”
“I’m glad you like blackberries. There are plenty more if you want them.”
“They must cost a fortune,” she commented as she ate another one.
Oh boy. He suspected she had food insecurity issues. Price would be at the top of that list. He didn’t want to make it worse. Hell, he had no idea what the fucking blackberries cost. He’d placed a grocery order two days ago, and the food had shown up. Period.
He didn’t want her to flinch, so he fibbed a bit. “They’re in season, I guess. Not a big deal.”
She ate another one, ignoring the rest of the food.
He rose from his stool, headed for the fridge, and grabbed the entire carton. When he returned, he set it in front of her.
She gasped. “That’s a lot of berries.”
“Yep. Eat as many as you want.” He picked up his fork and took a bite of eggs, hoping to encourage her to follow him.
She did. Her eyes were wide as she glanced around her plate as if deciding what to eat first.
He pushed a jar of syrup toward her. “For your pancakes.”
She glanced at it. “That’s real maple syrup.”
Jesus. “Yes.”
“I’ve never tried that either.”
“If you don’t like it, we can buy the high-fructose corn syrup kind. Some people don’t care for the real thing.” He knew that was true even among people who could afford it.
She lifted the jar and carefully let a small trickle run onto her pancakes.
“You won’t even be able to taste it if you don’t pour more than that, honey.”
“I don’t want to waste it.”
Jagger rose again. He quickly grabbed another plate from the cabinet, set it in front of her, and used his fork to stab her pancakes and shift them to the new plate. He picked up the syrup and poured it generously over the stack, letting it run down the sides so it was practically swimming.
She giggled.
Jagger’s heart seized. He could live a long and happy life if he got to hear that sound every once in a while. He smiled at her. “Now, it won’t get on your salty foods. Eat, honey. Please.”
She took a bite of the pancakes and moaned around the flavor as if they were orgasmic. Watching her eat certainly was. His cock was hard.
Once she got started, she didn’t stop. She didn’t eat super-fast, but she didn’t often pause either. She ate more than he could have imagined possible, which pleased him. That included all the bacon and every bite of the pancakes and syrup. Every berry. Most of the hashbrowns and eggs.
She moaned as she leaned back. “I’m going to die. I shouldn’t have eaten that much.”
She’d also had a glass of orange juice, but he just now realized he hadn’t offered her coffee.
“Did you want coffee or tea?”
She shrugged. “The only times I’ve tasted coffee, I thought it was kind of gross. I’ve had iced tea before, with sugar.”
“How about some hot tea then? You can put honey or sugar in it. It might help settle your stomach after eating so much.”
She slid off the stool and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight. “Thank you. That was the best meal I’ve ever had.”
He pursed his lips and rubbed her back. It was breakfast. Nothing fancy. How would she react at lunch? He turned to more fully face her and held her between his legs, kissing the top of her head even though he’d given himself a pep talk against doing so again.
She just felt so damn right in his arms. In his house. In his life.
Eventually, he leaned back. “Let me fix you some tea and clean this up, and then we’ll talk, okay?”
She nodded, but she looked nervous. “Can I clean up?”
“No. You can sit right here and drink your tea.” He rose, lifted her off the floor with his hands at her waist, and sat her back on the stool.
She watched him intently while he made her tea, set it in front of her, and then provided her with honey, sugar, and a spoon. He quickly cleaned the kitchen while she sipped the tea.
“I like it,” she declared.
“I’m glad. So far we haven’t found anything you don’t like.”
She shrugged.
He set the last dish in the dishwasher and turned toward her. “Wait. Was there something you didn’t like, Kally?”
She scrunched up her face.
He stalked toward her. “I told you not to eat the things you didn’t like.”
She bit her lip, but she had a shockingly mischievous expression, almost playful.
He grabbed her around the waist and stepped far too close. “What didn’t you like, Kally?”
She released her lip and winced. “I’m not a huge fan of eggs.”
“Then why did you eat them?”
“I didn’t want to waste them or hurt your feelings. You cooked them.”
“From now on, I want you to tell me what you don’t like. I’m not even going to cook anything without asking first. If you lie to me, I’ll…” His voice trailed off when he stopped himself from finishing that sentence. What naturally would have flowed from his lips in this scenario with any other woman wouldn’t have been appropriate with Kally.
“You’ll what?” she asked softly. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I wasn’t thinking about who I was talking to. I would’ve been kidding. Being punished wouldn’t be a playful joke to you.”
“Oh. Maybe not. Not yet, anyway. But I’d like to be the sort of person who can take a joke. Maybe you can help me.”
“I’d be honored.” He shouldn’t be touching her. Yet again. But he lifted her to the floor. “Let’s go to the living room.” He snagged the folder off the island.
“What’s in the folder?” she asked as she followed him.
“Your life.” He sat on one of the couches, grateful when she took a seat next to him. She leaned into him as if they’d known each other for a decade and were so comfortable together that they had this level of familiarity.
“What does that mean?” She looked up at him with wide innocent eyes. She didn’t seem daunted, just curious.
“Diane sent this information over to me this morning. The FBI will want to know everything they can about you because you never know what detail might help us catch whoever abducted you.”
She nodded. “Okay. I want to help.”
“I’ll tell you what I know from the file, and then we’ll fill in the details, okay?”
“Yes.”
“According to Diane’s search, you were born in a small town about an hour from Vegas. You lived there until you were sixteen, right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, not looking at him anymore. She burrowed deeper against him, absently fingering the long-sleeved shirt he wore.
“No siblings. You lived with your mom. She died that same year?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You really do know a lot.”
“Only what’s public record. Elementary schools, middle school. You left when your mom died and went to Vegas, right?”
She nodded.
“Did anyone know that?”
“No,” she murmured before tipping her head back. “Can I get in trouble for that?”
“No, honey. You’re not in trouble for anything. Absolutely nothing. I’m just verifying the details.” He stroked her soft hair away from her face. “I hate that you were all alone at such a young age, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“I knew some girls in high school who said they were going to Vegas after graduation to get jobs. I thought I might be able to get a job if I went there.”
“And you did, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I worked at a gas station for a while, but it didn’t pay enough money for me to afford the room I was renting, so I…”
“You did what, Kally?” he asked, trying not to show her his concern. He wouldn’t judge her. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t.
She pointed at the file. “Is it in there?”
He shook his head. “No. There’s a gap in your work history, which means you must have been doing something that paid in cash and wasn’t reported.”
“Is that illegal?” she asked.
He turned his body to more fully face her. “Kally, you are not in any trouble. I don’t give a fuck what you did to pay the rent when you were sixteen and homeless. I am not going to judge you. I may not know you well, but what little I do know tells me you’re smart, hardworking, and conscientious. I’m just trying to understand everything that happened to you.”
“I lied about my age.” Her eyes were big.
“Lots of people lie about their ages to get jobs, honey. No one gets arrested for it. If your employer had been caught hiring underage people to work for him, he might have gotten fined, but not you. The only way you could’ve gotten into trouble at the time would’ve been if you were dealing drugs or selling your body for sex in Clark County.”
She flinched. “I never sold my body,” she said emphatically.
He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. “Honey, that was kind of an assumption considering what you were abducted for.” He lifted a brow.
Her cheeks turned bright red. She licked her lips. “You know what I was sold for…” She said this as if it just dawned on her.
“Yes. I can’t know for sure it’s actually true that you’re a virgin, nor can the men who sold you either, but I have to assume they didn’t pick up a woman from the street corner and insist she was untouched.”
She lowered her forehead to his chest, not looking at him. “I hate that you know that. I hate that so many people know everything there is to know about me. It’s embarrassing and humiliating.”
He rubbed her back, aching for her. “Why would you be embarrassed for people to think you haven’t had sex?”
She shrugged against him. “It’s my business.”
“That’s true, but not something to be embarrassed about. And I’m sorry so many people know everything there is to know about you. I hope you’ll understand that the more the FBI knows, the easier it will be to find this asshole and put him behind bars.”
She didn’t say anything for a while. Finally, she continued. “I was dancing. There are plenty of clubs off the main strip that don’t care about anything else as long as you’re pretty. I never took my clothes off. But, apparently, I have rhythm. Dancing came easily for me, and I made more money in one night than in a week at the gas station. The owner paid me in cash, and he let me keep my tips.”
Jagger tried to imagine this shy, slight, timid woman dancing on a club stage and failed. But he understood. He couldn’t blame her. “So, you did that at night and went to school during the day.”
She flinched and tipped her head back again. “You even know I went to school?”
He shrugged. “That part wasn’t hard to discover, honey. You finished your GED and got your associate’s degree from the local community college—with honors. Now, I understand how you were able to do that.”
Her cheeks turned pink again. “I wanted to be better than how I was raised. My mom used to make fun of me for studying. She said it was a waste of time. But I had some teachers who believed in me and told me I was smart. They encouraged me to get an education. I was starting to think I could break the cycle and be someone worthy, and then I woke up in that fucking basement in Denver to find out I would never be anything.”
Jagger grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “You’re amazing. So strong. I’m in awe of what you’ve survived. You’re already somebody I envy, and you can still be whatever you want to be. What were you studying?”
“I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to work in a low-income school like the kind I went to so I could encourage other kids to study hard and get out of the slums.”
“And you still will,” he promised.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a pipe dream. I lost faith about ten months ago. I’m done thinking I’m better than my mother always said I was.”
