LOVE QUAKES: BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-4) by J.S. Luxor Read Free Book Online Page A

such a short time,” I state emphatically, “although I feel drawn to you in the same way.”
     
    He snorts and makes a face. “I’m certainly not innocent, bright and fresh, Joanna. But, I’m thrilled to hear that you’re attracted to me enough to see me again.” He pauses before his next confession, “When I heard your story about your feelings toward your stepfather, I was upset; thought you’d want nothing to do with me.” He adds with a sad look in his eyes.
     
    “Why? Are you perverted?” I joke and then notice that his expression changes into a scowl.
     
    “I have a dark side, Joanna,” he confides with a mysterious grin.
     
    I’m not sure where to take our conversation but I must know more about his issues. I’ve agreed to see him after we leave this elevator, after all. “Is your dark side related to the nightmares you have?” I’m holding my breath as I ask my question.
     
    “At least in part, yes,” he admits. He waits for me to ask more questions. I guess Tristan’s not giving anything away on this topic.
     
    “Do you remember what you dreamed about last night? Why were you having a nightmare?” I push for more and hope he doesn’t shut the door.
     
    Tristan’s face takes on a faraway look as he calls the images to mind. “It’s the same nightmare that haunts all of my dreams. There’s a big vehicle and it’s shaped like a bus, not a car, with a strange looking man inside. He’s pulling me into it and I’m trying to resist. The awful man shouts insults at me and curses before he gets me inside and drives away.” When he finishes describing the scenario, he looks at me with a lost look on his face.
     
    “Do you have any idea who this man is? Is he real?”
     
    “Yeah, Joanna, I know who he is. He’s real,” he reveals with a crestfallen gesture to his mouth, “and he’s the reason, among others, that I’ve spent many years in psychotherapy. He abducted me from my happy family. I can’t recall much after that except for some punishment. It was awful.” Now I can guess why Tristan’s haunted by night terrors. Abducted from his upper middle class home and tortured, at the age of five.
     
    I move to Tristan’s side and kiss his head. He relaxes almost immediately. “I’m so sorry,” I coo into his ear while patting his arm. “I wish I could make it better.”
     
    “You’ve already made it better, Joanna,” he responds while pulling me onto his lap and holding me tight. I put my arms around him and pat his back. That seems to soothe him instantly. We sit for several moments in our cocoon.
     
    “I’ve no idea about most of what happened while I was missing, just the person who took me. Thus, we both have something in common with men who caused us trauma,” he says with resentment, “and adults who couldn’t or wouldn’t protect us from them.” I shake my head with understanding. It feels so right to commiserate with Tristan.
     
    I pull Tristan into my arms and spend several minutes making out with him again. My tongue eagerly makes contact with his and the sparks between us sizzle. I want to soothe him. This time I pet his neck and chest while holding him impossibly close. His tongue probes my mouth with need as his hands rub my back.
     
    Tristan’s phone signals us while we make out like two teenagers. It’s time for us to pack up our gear and go home. We send up all our supplies via the cable and basket. Its early afternoon by the time our area’s cleared out. I’m going to go up the cable first. My stomach drops to the bottom of my gut at the thought of dangling on the end of the cable line while they haul me up.
     
    That’s why I’m so happy to see that the cable contains a three-foot black plastic disc when it’s lowered into the elevator. Tristan helps me onto the seat. He kisses me softly as I leave. I give him a delighted look. “See you at the top,” I gush. He waves and sends me on my way up.
     
    I’m no longer frightened at all,