by Malone, M.
With a dry mouth I muttered, “Get in."
She giggled. "I thought you were joining me."
Fuck. I was joining her, but I needed a second to get my erection under control. I climbed in after her, and the water hit us both. She peeled off her bra and revealed the most perfect pair of tits I’d ever seen in my life. Milky skin. Rose-tipped nipples. Jesus H. Christ. My imagination offered all the things I could do with breasts like hers. Hold them, weigh them, play with them, lick them…fuck them.
Shit, that was really not helping.
I just needed to get this done and touch her as little as possible.
I grabbed her sponge and handed it to her before squirting shower gel on it. "Start washing yourself."
Bailey made a face. "I want you to wash me."
Me too. But that wasn't going to happen.
"Bay, follow directions. I’ll start with your hair.” I found her shampoo, some raspberry-scented organic something or other. As a stream of water hit my back, I let it hit the back of her hair so the water would drench it. And that was when I noticed. She’d removed her underwear, too.
"Bay, what happened to your panties?"
She glanced at me over her shoulder and winked. “Well, I was wet."
I swallowed hard. "We’re in the shower. We’re both wet."
She shook her head. "That's not what I meant."
I. Was. So. Fucked.
I shampooed her hair as quickly as I dared, lathering and making sure it was nice and clean. I stepped aside, letting the spray drench her hair, and helping her rinse it out. All the while she kept lazily rubbing soap over her body. Jesus Christ, I wanted to help so badly, but that was a slippery slope.
Standing here, trying desperately to look at the ceiling while I knew she soaped her tits, tested the limits of even my control.
Once her hair was rinsed out, I added the leave-in conditioner and gently worked it through her hair. She moaned, low and throaty, and my dick threatened to come without my fucking say so.
I could do this. I was the good guy. The sexually charged Hunter—the one who was demanding in bed, and got what he needed—I wasn’t that Hunter when I was with her. Because I cared about her. I had to remember that.
After I gently took the brush through her hair from the tips to the roots as she instructed, she turned to face me, and I pinned my gaze directly over her shoulder and to the other side of the wall.
"Hunter, I just wanted to say thank you. Sorry I threw up."
I shook my head. "Not your fault. You had a hell of a trauma tonight. And so you overdid it. No big deal. We've all been there."
She pressed her body into mine and—what do you know?—my dick pulsed in my boxers. And then, ever so helpfully, Bailey rubbed her soapy tits on my chest. I let out a low groan that was part growl, and struggled with the reins of my control. But it wasn't until she wrapped her delicate hand around my boxer-clad cock that I lost it.
"Bailey, stop. One day soon, we’re going to redo this whole scene. When that happens, I will have you turn that hot little ass around, plant your hands on the wall, and then I will bury my dick inside you. But right now is not that time."
She pouted, but she didn't release me. "But why not? You obviously want me."
“And you are obviously trying to get a spanking."
Her eyes fired wide, but her pupils also dilated. Well, well. It looked like Bailey was totally down for a spanking. Why did that make me want to give her one even more? Lucky for me, she wasn't too keen on listening. She shimmied and pressed her tits into me farther.
"Bailey. Last warning. You need to quit or you will feel my handprint on your ass."
"Hunter. I think I like this dominance in you." She kissed my chin and added a little slip of her tongue as a way to torment me.
I didn't mean to do it, but I couldn't help myself. I firmly set her away from me, turned her around and placed her hands on the opposing wall. Leaning over her back, my dick tented my boxers and pressed into the soft flesh of her ass.
When I whispered, my voice was low, "I warned you. Enough is enough.” The crack of my palm over her ass surprised us both. She gasped, but then moaned low. The tingling started at the base of my spine.
No. No. No. I was not going to fucking come right now. Not okay. But I was walking away with one piece of knowledge tonight. Bailey Jones liked dominant Hunter. And I was done being a nice guy.
I took the little sponge and scrubbed myself off in seconds while I kept her in that position. I quickly washed down her back and legs, but at that point, my movements were perfunctory. In seconds, I had us both out of the shower. I wrapped us both in towels and left her briefly to go toss our clothes in the dryer.
When we had both toweled off, I marched her into the bedroom, and handed her a ratty T-shirt from her bottom drawer. I dragged it over her head before pulling back the covers and waiting for her to get in.
"Are you joining me?"
I shook my head even as my cock made an attempt to escape the towel slung around my hips. "No. But don't worry, Bay, we’re going to do this again real soon. And next time, I'm going to enjoy making your ass red. I promise I’ll make sure to kiss it all better." I ignored her soft gasp and left her in the bedroom while I headed to the living room to watch TV and wait for my clothes to dry.
Once I was dressed again, I let myself out of her apartment. One good thing had come from tonight: now I knew exactly how to handle Bailey Jones.
Get WICKED now at malonesquared.com/wicked
Excerpt of Shameless
available everywhere
I am the thing that goes bump in the night. I am a liar, a protector ... a killer ... I am Noah Blake.
There is only one light in my darkness. one bright ray in the storm of my life. Lucia DeMarco. And I’ll do anything for her. Anything except show her who I really am: an assassin. Well, former assassin. I don’t really do that anymore ... usually.
It would be easier if she didn’t call me names. Asshole, control freak … shameless. It would also be easier if she didn’t look at me with those trusting gray eyes. If I didn’t dream about the perfect curve of her — Never mind all that. The point is she’s digging into my world, my secrets, and it’s going to get her killed.
But first, we have another more immediate concern. Lucia is going on a date—with someone else ...
And I’m not allowed to kill this one.
Excerpt of Shameless © May 2017 M. Malone and Nana Malone
* * *
Noah watched the date from the comfort of his SUV. All the while silently fuming.
What the hell did Lucia think she was doing? His team hadn't vetted the guy. They didn't know anything about him. So far, she'd broken all of the dating rules he'd given her.
For the first date, always meet your date at your designated location. And of course, she'd let this doofus pick her up for their date. As if he hadn't told her a million times to do the exact opposite.
He'd also been very clear not to get in the car with her date. So that was rule one and rule two broken right off the bat. As if he hadn't trained her on how to be careful and what to watch out for. But oh no, Lucia didn't listen to shit. Every time he turned around, there she was, careening headfirst into trouble.
Maybe she didn't see her date as a potential threat, but dammit she needed to be more careful. What the hell did she even know about this guy?
"What the hell kind of name is Brent anyway?"
Noah hadn't even realized that he'd spoken out loud, until the voice in his comm unit laughed. "Last I checked, Brent is a perfectly normal name. Lots of guys have it."
Noah barely restrained a growl. "Matthias, when I want your input, I'll give it to you."
There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. Noah made a mental note to give Matthias some really horrible surveillance duty for the next month. This wasn't funny. This was Lucia. They all cared about her well-being.
Maybe you more than the others.
Yeah, so what? He cared about her. And maybe it wasn't the easiest thing in the world watching her date loser after loser. But it was his job, no strike that, it was his responsibility to look after her. He owed Rafe that much. But how the hell was he supposed to look out for her when she kept making it so damn difficult? Lucia was obstinate, infuriating, pigheaded, and—
Beautiful.
No. She was like a little sister to him. Yet somehow his dick couldn't seem to get with that program lately. More and more frequently, some very unsisterly thoughts wormed their way into his consciousness.
"Matthias, give me something on this Brent guy. Aren't you supposed to be some kind of super-hacker?"
"You better believe it. But, there's nothing on him. Everything is normal. Boring. Most interesting thing about this guy is he likes adventure sports. He skydives, bungee jumps, that sort of thing. Does some triathlons. Maybe he's some kind of adrenaline junkie. But there's nothing else on him. No flags. He lives here in New York in the East Village. No roommates, rent isn't exorbitant. Works for the city. No large withdrawals of cash, good credit. As far as I can tell, he's clean. But that's just his electronic trail. Maybe you're right on this one and he's a little too clean. I mean, there's not even an online dating profile on him. To me, that's weird. Who doesn't have an online dating profile?"
Noah chuckled and then lifted his binoculars again. Lucia was laughing at something. So Brent thought he was a comedian, huh? What the hell was so damn funny? There was too much interference to use the boom mic, otherwise he'd know.
Brent reached across the table and took Lucia's hand, and Noah nearly chipped a tooth from grinding his teeth so hard. He could see Lucia's eyes go wide. Was that surprise? He hoped it was disgust.
Did she actually like this guy?
His gut clenched at the thought. Perfect, just what he needed. Lucia liking this fucking idiot.
It wasn't that she hadn't dated before. She had. Mostly in college. Most of those guys had merely needed a strong reminder to mind their Ps & Qs with her. But this guy, this guy was random—unknown. Which meant it would take more work to scare him off. But Noah was up for the challenge.
Lucia deserved to be happy, just with somebody vetted and approved. After the shit she had survived in her life? The girl needed some happy endings.
Fuck. Not happy endings.
He groaned and turned his attention back to the restaurant. Brent raised a hand and signaled their server. Shit, they were leaving. The real trick was guessing where they were going. He'd put a tracker on her phone, so if he guessed wrong, he could always follow. But what if something happened to her before he could get there?
"Matthias, turn on the listening device on her phone. I'm heading to the house in case that's where they go."
There was a beat of silence. He could almost hear Matthias's silent condemnation. "The thing is, Noah, she's not going to like that."
"The thing is, Matthias, I don't care," he muttered using the same singsong tone.
Yeah, he knew he sounded like an asshole. But this was Lucia. If she wasn't going to take care of herself, that left it to him to do it for her. They had one simple rule: He vetted all her dates. And sometimes, without her knowing, he'd scare them off. But that was really beside the point. It wasn't his fault she couldn't pick a decent guy.
He made a left turn on 10th Ave, right near the USB Theater, then he sped through Chelsea before making a left on 28th Street, heading toward Chelsea Piers. He made a right at the stop sign, turning onto her quiet street. The street was lined with lofts and new apartment high-rises, all boasting a name with Arms, or Manor.
Before she'd moved, Noah and his team researched the building's owners and the neighborhood crime rate. Everything to make sure she would be safe. Well as safe as she could be in Manhattan. It also didn't hurt that he watched her every move. And not in some creepy, stalkery way, but more like a big brother way. Sort of ...
Never mind that. He drove past her building and around the back to the lot he paid for specifically for these kinds of situations. Yeah, so maybe he also paid most of her rent. She thought she’d gotten extremely lucky with a rent-controlled apartment in the heart of the city. In reality, he paid most of the tab. He also paid for two parking spots. Not that Lucia had a car. But in case she ever got one, she’d have somewhere safe to park it. Somewhere right next to the damn elevator. He paid almost as much to secure that spot as he paid for the apartment. His spot was in the darkened shadows somewhere she’d never think to look. He didn’t mind though, because in most scenarios, he was the thing that went bump in the night.
"Matthias, talk to me. Where are they headed?"
"They're stopping for ice cream at Benny's then he's going to take her home."
Okay, so Noah had about ten minutes. Benny's was a local mom-and-pop ice-cream place about five blocks away. He jogged along the parking garage to the side stairs. While he'd insisted that she get a building with a doorman, there was no accounting for the additional exits and entrances into the building. Luckily, this one was exit only. Only confirmed residents had keys. Unfortunately, even your average guy could pick these locks, and he happened to be better than average.
In less than a minute, he was through the door and took the back stairway up to her apartment. She'd listened to him and employed the deadbolt. Problem for her was he had a key.
In seconds he turned off her security alarm. Well, at least there was that. Lucia had been so against it in the first place. At least she realized that a woman living alone needed some security. He glanced around and noted that she'd changed a few things. Was that a new pillow?
Matthias spoke into his earpiece. "You've got about five, boss. They've stopped outside the apartment. I'm going to go ahead and turn off the mic on her phone now if that's okay with you."
More judgment from the youngest member of the team. Whatever. He'd deal with that later. Now, the real question was where to wait for her.
What if she brought the guy in here?
Oh hell no. The mere idea of it had him gripping the edge of the countertop. She had better be coming in alone.
Didn't she know the first thing about dating? Damn it, this was their first date. She was supposed to make the guy twist in the wind for a bit first.
How many one-night stands have you had?
No. He was not going to think about that. It was different. That's all. Besides, Lucia was a good kid. And there was no way Nonna DeMarco would approve.
He'd give her a few minutes to run the guy off herself, and then the two of them were going to have another conversation about dating and personal safety.
She couldn't really be interested in this guy, right? He was boring. Unlike you? Noah grimaced. Yeah well, she didn't need to date anyone like him either. If she did, Noah would have to employ more drastic measures to keep her safe.
No. Lucia needed a nice guy, but someone more interesting than a records keeper.
Okay, if he was going to give her the chance to send Brent packing by herself, he needed to wait somewhere other than the living room. If she caught sight of Noah first, and if she was carrying that Taser he'd given her for Christmas, he might end up as fried toast. He jogged down the hallway and turned left into her bedroom, gently closing the door behind himself.
He hopped onto her bed, bouncing slightly and leaned back against the pillows. I’ve always loved how girly she is, he thought, enjoying the scent of her perfume in the room and looking around at the four-poster bed, the soft colors, and all the ruffled pillows. He also loved that when she completely lost her temper her curls went flying and her eyes snapped with anger.
It was probably why he enjoyed pissing her off so much.
Something caught his eye as he lay back against the pillows, readjusting them for his comfort. Her bottom drawer was open.
Do not open it. Leave it be. She won't appreciate — Oh fuck it.
He pulled it open and took out his phone, shining the flashlight directly inside.
> "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
* * *
This was the part where Lucia was supposed to feel the butterflies right? Every brush of his fingers was supposed to feel as if she had electricity coursing through it? This was the part where she moaned into his embrace, right?
Except none of that was happening. Not even when he pulled her close, pressing their bodies together.
This was ... Nice. Perfectly pleasant. Maybe even a little warm. Warm was good, right?
Head in the game DeMarco.
She started slowly, leading him back toward the bedroom. Maybe if she got him there she’d get more in the mood. She’d have all the nice-smelling girly things in there which hopefully would feel more romantic.
He easily followed her lead. He made a moaning sound deep in his throat, and she only wished she wanted to make such a sound. A tiny annoying voice spoke up from deep in the recesses of her mind.
Are you sure you want to do this? You want your first time to just be ... fine?
No. She wanted hot. She wanted sexy. She wanted to tingle. She wanted to feel like a supermodel who'd found her accompanying rock star. But not everybody got a rock star. Sometimes nice was good.
She opened the door to the bedroom, and he continued to kiss her. But the more his tongue slid into her mouth, licking inside, the more she wanted to turn her head. She drew back, angling her head away slightly. He took that to mean that she wanted him to kiss her neck. With a little groan, he slid his lips along her jaw, then the column of her throat. But she was having a hard time getting into the mood.
All she kept thinking about was if she was doing this right. And God, she wanted to get out of her shoes. They were pinching her toes. And those growling noises he was making were actually kind of funny. When had she left her blinds open? While she was at it, she really needed to get some damn groceries.