Four weeks earlier
Angela cried softly, “Bad dream, bad dream.”
“Ssshhh, it’s okay.”
Still half asleep, eyes closed, Jake draped his arm over her. When his hand landed on a bare breast, his eyes popped open. Trailing his fingers down her torso, his pulse accelerated with each inch of skin he touched. His fingertips brushed the top edge of her pubic hair, and he gulped.
Damn.
Angela was totally naked.
Where were her nightgown and panties?
When they’d gone to bed, Jake had coaxed her to sleep raw like he did, but all his teasing and pleading had failed to convince her. She’d explained how being naked made her feel vulnerable. He figured she was also afraid of his inability to resist temptation. Apparently, during the night, she had changed her mind and shed her clothes.
Unfortunately Angela’s fear was justified, because a part of his anatomy was definitely tempted. He cringed at the hardening going on down there. His hand slipped between their bodies to rearrange his problem, but when his fingers slid over the firm, smooth curve of her ass, the situation worsened. As if it had a mind of its own, his hand palmed her butt, climbed over her hip, and cupped the small mound below her belly.
She went rigid. “What are you doing?”
“You’re naked,” he mumbled as an answer.
“Please don’t touch me there,” she said tightly.
His erection, now hard and full, pressed against her butt. “Angela, I want you. Let me inside.” His fingers defiantly stroked her tender folds.
“No, I can’t,” she said, her voice rising. “Let go. Please.”
“Naked…” Additional words were lost to his ragged breathing. His body demanded what it had been denied for so long. Jake clenched his teeth against that burning desire.
“Move your hand,” she snapped.
Several heartbeats passed.
“Shit. I can’t take this much longer. I’ve told you how I feel about us. And I want to be inside you so bad, I hurt.” He grabbed her hand and wrapped her fingers around his swollen dick. “Feel me? Feel how much I need you?”
“Stop it, right now.” Angela wrenched her hand free, whirled on him, and pushed herself backward across the bed.
Jake flung away the covers and stood. His flagpole erection pointed at her accusingly. “I’m not your bad dream, Angela. And I’m not the bastard who raped you. When are you going to trust me? When are you going to want me?”
“I don’t know.”
He hung his head and shook it with frustration. “I need some air.” He marched to the balcony door and yanked it open.
“Maybe I should leave.”
Without turning, he paused in the doorway. “Maybe so.”
He slammed the door behind him. Refusing to look back into the bedroom, he stepped to the balcony railing and leaned on it. Goddamn it, he wanted her. Did she appreciate how uncharacteristic it was for him to have such patience? Not that he’d ever needed it before; women normally threw themselves at him. But this was different. Angela was different.
He cursed softly. Why did he care about curing her frigidity? With a trembling hand, he rubbed his forehead. In the end, he was going to kill her. Why the hell did it matter whether she ever had another orgasm? Was it some pitiful, twisted way to mitigate his guilt? Or was he just a horny, immoral bastard?
The sound of Angela’s BMW broke the night’s stillness. Jake watched the headlights glance off the landscaping to the south of the house as the car exited the circular concourse and began its descent down the steep, winding driveway.
“Fuck!”
* * *
“I apologize for the other night,” Jake said, swinging their clasped hands between them as they strolled on the sand near his Rosarito Beach house three nights later. “You were right to leave. I was way out of line. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Hmmm.”
“You don’t believe me?” He stopped her by pulling her hand up to his chest.
Perhaps the fog rolling in created her melancholy, but Angela doubted it. During the three days since the incident, she’d done a lot of soul-searching. She was sure Jake would resist talking about it, but she needed to discuss her demons—and his.
When she met his eyes, they reflected a level of concern she hadn’t expected. Did he think she was that upset about the other night?
“I believe you mean what you say, but I don’t believe you can keep that promise.”
“Huh?”
She smiled and reached up to brush aside a wind-whipped lock of ebony hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry. If I was, I wouldn’t have agreed to come down here with you. I love your beach house, by the way.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to come here. I thought it might give me a bit of an advantage.”
She pressed a firm kiss on his lips but pulled back before he could react. She started to walk again, and he matched her strides.
“You don’t need any more advantages, mister. You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger.”
“Well, hell. I wish I’d known.” He chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve noticed me hanging on your pinkie, too.”
“Hmmm.”
“That ‘hmmm’ of yours is starting to worry me. Is something wrong?”
“Not really.”
She dropped his hand and hugged her arms around herself. Her eyes fixed on the sun glowing rebelliously through the falling fog, defying the misty curtain to close early on its show.
Fog. Amnesia. They felt similar.
“Angela?”
“Hmmm?”
“There it is again,” he joked but didn’t get a laugh. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
“Want to go back?”
“No.”
“Well, let’s sit down. The sand is still warm.”
She sat between his legs, reclining against his chest. They huddled together, taking warmth from the dry sand and each other. The sun sank lower and lower but never succumbed to the fog. They watched silently until the golden orb disappeared below the horizon.
“What’s the matter?” Jake asked, concern in his voice.
“There’s something wrong with me.”
“You’re sick?”
Her head rested on his shoulder, and he tightened his embrace.
“Not physically sick. Mentally.”
He sighed. “I know. The amnesia.”
“Of course, there’s that. But something else is wrong.”
“What?”
She drew a deep breath and lifted her face to his. “It’s a horrible statistic, but hundreds of women get raped. But as awful as rape is for each and every victim, almost all of these women find the strength to survive, overcome, and heal. They return to normal lives. I haven’t. I can’t. I’m convinced there’s something else wrong with me.”
“I couldn’t disagree more. I think you’re a helluva strong woman. Look what you’ve accomplished in four years. You moved to Coronado, bought a condo, set up an interior decorating business from scratch, and started a whole new life for yourself. And you did it, with virtually no help from anyone.” He stroked her hair as he continued. “Yes, you’ve had a problem with sex. Perfectly understandable, in my humble opinion. I know I get impatient sometimes. But look how far you’ve come with that problem in the short time we’ve been together.”
“Thanks, Jake. I appreciate the vote of confidence. Really, I do. But I’m scared I won’t be able to take the final step.” She snuggled closer. “Even though my brain and my body tell me I’m ready, I can’t do it. What’s wrong with me?”
“The cops and doctors explained to you that your rape was…was particularly vicious. It makes sense your psychological scars would be worse.”
“Hmmm.”
“Stop that. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I agree with what you said. I think it goes even further, though. It’s like there was something so devastating that it’s haunting me, screaming to be remembered. And the closer we get to having sex, the more frightening it becomes.”
Jake swiveled her so he could see her face. “Your nightmare with the two…two figures? I’ve noticed you’ve been having it more often.”
“Yes, almost every night now.”
“Jesus, Angela, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why? What could you do?”
“I could insist you talk about it instead of letting you brush me off.”
“Hmmm. I understand you want to help, Jake, but I don’t think you can. I hate complaining about it, but the nightmare is really scaring me. I know it’s making it harder for me to take the last step. It may also mean I’m backsliding psychologically.”
“We’re not going to let that happen. You have me now.” He leveraged them both up off the sand. “You’re shivering. Let’s go back.”
Snuggling under his arm like it was a protective wing, she accepted his strength and warmth gratefully. Yes, I have you now, but for how long? That’s the particular demon of yours I want to talk about.
* * *
After dinner and a DVD movie, Angela left to get ready for bed while Jake set up the coffeemaker. She was under the covers when he passed through on the way to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he crawled into bed wearing only his boxer briefs.
Lying on his side, he reached to slide Angela next to him, but she resisted.
“C’mon. I only want to cuddle. I’m wearing my underwear like a good boy,” he said, grinning.
“I want to cuddle, too, but first I want to talk about you.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Chicken,” she teased. She leaned in, kissed him hard and fast, and pulled back before he could catch her. “We talked about one of my demons earlier. Now we talk about one of yours.”
“You know, we Martian males don’t like to talk about our demons.” His expression didn’t match his jovial tone.
“Too bad. Your Venusian girlfriend does.” Her tone turned serious. “Please, Jake. This has been bothering me since your party.”
He flopped onto his back and exhaled in resignation. “Okay, shoot.”
“Why do you and Tanya keep breaking up and getting back together?”
His head jerked around. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell kind of question is that? You know I don’t believe in discussing previous relationships, and I’ve told you all you need to know about Tanya.”
“Humor me. I’m not digging for dirt on you and Tanya. My question goes deeper. Your relationship with Tanya is simply a good example of the demon I want to discuss.”
“What do you want from me, Angela?”
“An answer.”
He pushed the back of his head into the pillow and sighed. “Tanya believes our relationship has potential. She tries so hard to make it into something more, but I don’t feel it.”
“And Bonnie?”
“Damn it. She told you—”
“Yes, but she didn’t get into any detail, and she’s not bitter. She had wonderful things to say about the time you two were together.”
“Women. Guys get a bad rap for kissing and telling, but you women…”
“Good try, Jake, but you’re not sneaking away from the topic. Why did you break up with Bonnie and all the others?”
“All the others? What is this, an inquisition?”
She leaned over him, her face inches from his. “Answer me, Mr. Stone.”
Jake pushed her aside, swung his feet to the floor, and sat up with his back to her. “This sucks. But okay. Here’s the ammunition you want. Yeah, I dated Tanya, Bonnie, and all the others. I screwed them. A lot. But if they’re honest, they’ll tell you they had a really good time. We had fun; we had sex. It never got any more serious than that.”
“Why?”
“Why did I screw them?” He twisted around and shot her a lecherous smirk. “I like to fuck, that’s why.”
Angela’s eyes blazed. “Stop it, Jake. I’m not going to let you hide behind your vulgar vocabulary. I know you use it to put me off balance. It’s not going to work this time.”
“Well, aren’t you clever, Miss Shrink.”
She inhaled slowly, held the breath a moment, and then blew it out through pursed lips. “I’m asking why you never have serious relationships with women.”
Jake tunneled his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his scalp, obviously stalling. “It’s simple, Angela. They were superficial relationships that didn’t have anything meaningful to grow on. Why would a woman want a long-term, serious relationship with me anyway? Even you called me a playboy.”
“Maybe you always escaped before they had a chance to grow.”
“Sure. Whatever you say, Miss Shrink.”
“Okay, this is what I say. I think you cut and run because you’re afraid one of these ‘superficial relationships’ might get serious. Deep down inside, you want it, but you’re afraid of it, too. So you hide. You’ve hidden the real Jake from Tanya, Bonnie, et al. And now, you’re hiding from me.”
Steel shutters closed behind his eyes. Cold, hard, emotionless gray stared back at her. “Believe me, you wouldn’t like the ‘real Jake.’ I don’t even like him.”