Shockwave (Calendar Men: Mr. May)

by D. L. Jackson

  “Back to insults, Sergeant North? I’m here to visit my grandmother, and you weren’t invited.” Her hands went to her hips. “You can leave now.”

  Oh fuck, no. They were his grandmothers tonight, and he didn’t plan to go anywhere—spitting kitty or not. “You couldn’t pick another night?”

  “Lannie, dear, is everything okay,” Mrs. Emerson, the newest member of his group, called out behind him.

  He caught Lannie’s elbow. “Let’s talk someplace private.”

  She yanked away. “Everything is fine, Noni. Mr. North and I are going to go have a little chat. I’ll be right back.”

  “You better believe we are, unless you plan to write another story on it. Lead the way, Ms. Sawyer.”

  She ignored him and spun on her heels, heading for the nurse’s station. “Peggy, do you have an office where Mr. North and I can talk—in private?” She sounded sweet, but even poison could taste like sugar to trick the victim into consuming a lethal dose. He knew better.

  “All locked up for the night and I don’t have a key, but the supply closet across the way is open. I didn’t know you were acquainted with each other. Everything okay?”

  “It will be—once we hash some things out.” More of her honeyed tongue, but she didn’t fool him. It would turn sharp like a razor once she had him alone. He could place a safe bet on the outcome.

  Lannie glanced back at him, and then to the frost-covered front doors. He raised a brow. The way she’d dressed, no way would she go back outside to have this talk. She had one choice, and not a good one. He almost chuckled at the thought of her and him alone—in a closet and how long it would take him before he gave in to strangling her. Could she be thinking the same thing? He could tell from her scowl, she wasn’t pleased a bit.

  “I could ask the ladies to move out of the recreation room for a few minutes,” the nurse piped up.

  “No. The closet will be fine. Thank you.” Lannie walked over and opened the door. Motioned him to step inside. “A moment of your time, please.”

  Red bloomed up her neck to her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes when he drew closer. Her voice sounded calm, and if he hadn’t seen her face or hand that gripped the knob with crushing strength, he wouldn’t know she struggled to control her rage. No mistaking the white-knuckle grip, or the lump in her jaw from forcing a smile while she gnashed her molars together. Fuse lit. No doubt when the door shut, there’d be a screaming match. Redheads weren’t known for calm debates. Another reason he didn’t like them. Too temperamental.

  The door closed and Lannie shoved him. Boom. Sugar and spice had left the building, as predicted. “How dare you invade my space? You’re not welcome here.”

  He snorted. “They seem to be plenty welcoming to me.” He shoved her back. Not hard, but enough to let her know under no uncertain circumstances would he let her push him around. “I can guarantee I have been coming here longer than you. About six years to be exact and you’ve been coming here what, a few weeks? So, just to clarify, this is my space.”

  “You come here to read smut to my grandmother. What qualifies Sunny Dale as your space? Are you related to any of them?” Her voice grew several decibels louder, and Tanner knew their private conversation had moved past that, closet or not.

  “No, but familiar status doesn’t matter. I come here because I care about them and enjoy their company. I would never dump my grandmother here and forget her.”

  “I didn’t dump her or forget her!”

  “Can you tone it down, sweetheart? The world doesn’t need to hear this. And, for the record, your grandmother is a big girl. She can decide if she wants to listen to someone read dirty novels. The ladies love them. They asked me to read them and they provided the books.”

  “You have no right to be here—reading garbage to my grandmother. And I am not your sweetheart.” Fire danced in her amber eyes.

  Possessive much? “Pot. Kettle. Black, Ms. Sawyer? You want to talk about garbage? Are you really ready to go there? I know someone who writes a lot of crap.”

  She snorted. “Thanks to you. Leave.”

  “I have as much a right as you to be here.”

  “You do not.” She snarled, planted both palms on his chest, and shoved him again, sending him back a step and into a shelving unit with various supplies, among them, a box of condoms, which tumbled to land at their feet.

  Tanner looked down. “I thought this was a nursing home.”

  “It is, and an assisted living facility with a clubhouse. Quit changing the subject.” She kicked the box aside.

  “Far be it for me to interrupt your rant. By all means, proceed with the hissing and spitting.”

  “Hissing and spitting? I’m not a cat. You don’t want to provoke me.” She licked her lips and glanced down at the box of rubbers. When she lifted her chin, her nostrils flared. Her breasts heaved with labored breath and the tip her tongue slipped across her mouth one more time, before she dropped her gaze to his groin. Fuck. Tanner popped wood at what had to be world-record speed.

  “I’m not provoking, Ms. Sawyer. You’re the one who insisted on stepping in here to have this so called chat.” The moment her laser-guided vision locked onto his tackle, he felt it like a jolt of high voltage. Hard became impossibly hard, knock-a-hole-in-concrete, fuck-through-solid steel—hard. A boner to beat all boners. Not anything he had any business having, not with her. Here. Alone. The small closet shrank into a tighter fit, and from the squeak that escaped her, he knew they’d both felt it. Time to give a little back. “Impressed with what you see?”

  Her gaze snapped up. “I cannot believe you asked that. You need to leave.” She swallowed and stared into his face, the anger he’d seen before vanished. Replaced with an expression that said he was an ice cream sundae, and she needed a bite.

  “Well, are you?” He gave her a lecherous grin and watched the rage creep back on her face. He waited, expecting the powder keg to detonate, and the roof to raise; instead she surprised him and leaned closer. Fuck. Closing the space between them didn’t help matters, and he’d known she’d done it to back him down, but damn, his dick didn’t take it that way. Her hair smelled like strawberries. And her lips, up close.... Under her intense focus, he struggled not to grab her and kiss her. He managed, forcing the urge away. “I saw you look.”

  “It’s hard to miss. And as impressive as your penis may be, you need to leave. Now. Before I have the nurse call security.”

  He shifted on his feet. “Back to threats, Ms. Sawyer? You’re pushing my patience. Don’t try to tell me what I can and cannot do. I won’t warn you again.”

  “Or you’ll what...?” She jammed her finger in his chest and leaned in even closer. Their noses touched. “Call my boss and accuse me of visiting my grandmother?” Her hot breath washed over him. A tall woman, around five-foot-eleven without shoes, in her heels, Lannie had no problem going nose-to-nose with his six-foot-four. “Charm me out of my panties like you do every other woman who comes into contact with you?”

  Each word rose an octave higher. Tanner fought clamping his hand over her pretty pie-hole, choosing instead a more diplomatic approach. “Lower your voice.”

  “When I’m damn good and ready, Mr. Don’t-try-to-tell-me-what-to-do. Contrary to popular opinion, not every female with a pulse wants to jump you—or is impressed you’ve got a dick. Get out of my personal space, you egotistical bastard! I am so sick and tired of hearing about Tanner the hero. My freaking story made you famous, but do I get a thank you from you? No. Nothing but condemnation.”

  Did she think he liked his newfound celebrity status? Seriously? He needed to set her straight, pronto, and he couldn’t with her shrieking at him like a harpy. He grabbed her shoulders and backed her into the door, pinning her against the hard surface. “Shut up!”

  She opened her mouth, certainly ready to sling profanity. Tanner didn’t think. He slammed his mouth to hers and discovered, though she sounded sharp, her lips were much fuller and more pliant when not scr
eaming something nasty at him. Even more surprising, she moaned and fisted his hair, kissing him back.

  Oh, hell.

  Hands went places they had no business going. His went up her skirt to discover the lack of undergarments beneath, which left no barrier to probing fingers. He slid a couple digits inside her to get his second surprise for the day—a pussy slick like warm cream to the touch.

  Lannie didn’t do much better with controlling herself. She cupped his cock through his jeans and lifted one leg to hook his ass and pull his hips to hers. Any second now, she’d climb him like a tree because that’s what cats did.

  By all means.

  He had one goal now. To fuck her. She hadn’t done anything to stop him thus far, so why should he hold back, even if the woman could be called the enemy?

  He shoved her skirt up her thighs, bunching it around her waist. Long and lean, Lannie’s legs could make a grown man weep by looking at them, and before Lannie left the closet, she’d have those impressive gams wrapped around his hips while he pounded into her. Reading erotic romance for the last hour had him ready to go, with lots of ideas about which direction he’d like to take things.

  When he pushed his fingers deeper, locating her sweet spot, and rubbed his thumb against her clit, she whimpered and came, pulsing and squeezing him, letting him know what she’d be like wrapped around his pecker. He twisted his fingers, sliding them in and out as if they were his cock. Juice ran down his hand and wrist. Damn, the woman dripped lust, and if he got any harder and didn’t put his dick to good use soon, he’d be lucky to walk out without a limp, or clean jeans.

  “I want to screw you,” he whispered in her ear, waiting for the green light to proceed—begging. No matter how hot she was, if Lannie said no, their encounter ended now.

  Lannie drew away, her body stiffening. “Tanner...I can’t. Not until I tell you something.”

  He closed his eyes, sucked in a breath of self-control, and tugged her skirt down. Damn, he wanted to fuck. Never had he a problem walking away, and from a woman who, in so many ways, was not his type.

  But he would stop if what came out of her mouth next was what he thought it would be. There were a lot of things pointing toward an unpleasant admission.

  In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from hot and liquid, coming on his hand, to stiff and frigid, like a chunk of ice in his palm. Her expression remained neutral, not giving away the thoughts rolling around in her pretty head.

  So close and amped up on adrenaline, he sported the king of all erections, and she’d decided to take the moment to talk? Tanner did his best to ignore the scent of sex filling his nostrils. Thinking about how close he’d come to scoring would make his situation more uncomfortable.

  One would think, with all the women throwing themselves at him, he’d get laid every night of the week. No, not his style. He didn’t do flings. After his last tour, he’d wanted a committed relationship, someone to come home to at the end of the day and hold when the times were good, but also when they were bad—and she, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, had cheated on him.

  The magazines, newspapers, television, and Lannie’s damned story, all made him look like a player. Hell, he hadn’t had sex in over a year. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he’d been dating his hand. Some player. And here he stood, in the closet with a woman who came the moment he touched her, had been hot enough to ignite the air. Ska-reeech, she put the brakes on, shutting him down.

  “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  Yeah, like he’d thought. “So spit out whatever you’re holding back because I have a feeling you’re right.”

  “I need you to do a photo shoot. I planned to visit you at the station next week, to talk about it. And, well...I didn’t expect to see you here, but I couldn’t let this situation continue until I told you, even though I want to take what we’re doing here further.” She held his gaze. “I know how this appears, but it’s not what you think.”

  Red exploded across his field of view. “Stop. I can’t believe you can look me straight in the eyes and tell me you didn’t expect to see me here, and then you happen to need something else from me when I had my hand on your crotch. Coincidence doesn’t happen, Lannie. I’m not buying your story.”

  “It’s true. I didn’t know you’d be here, and I didn’t plan for what happened here—the kiss the—situation to go that way.”

  “Right. And you just happened to be dressed like that—without panties? Come on, Lannie. Do you think I’m stupid? You hoped to seduce me to get what you wanted.”

  “I know you’re not stupid, and I’m not playing some kind of game. I’m telling the truth.”

  “I call bullshit.” How could he have been so stupid? None of it could be called an accident. The whole evening had all been orchestrated. She’d tracked him here and planned everything, and he’d bought her little performance hook, line, and f’ing sinker. “You have some serious nerve.”

  “Whatever you think my reason is, it’s not why I kissed you, or let you touch me.”

  “Don’t bother trying to explain. You’ve done enough. Our little grope fest was a big mistake, and if you think I’m going to make another one by letting you plaster my picture everywhere again, for God knows what, you are about to come face-to-face with reality.” He grabbed her shoulders, moved her out of the way, and threw the door open with a loud bang. “Good-bye, Ms. Sawyer.” Tanner strode to the group of women standing beside the nurses’ station, watching him. “Something has come up.”

  “We heard,” Lannie’s grandmother said. “Everything.”

  His face grew hot and he looked away. Yeah, they knew what they’d been doing in behind the closed door. No surprise there. “I’ll be back tomorrow night to finish your story.” He nodded and headed for the exit as Lannie stepped out, her clothes rumpled. One shoe had come off in the manhandling, enforcing his image as a villain. To top off her woman-in-distress appearance, her hair had fallen half out of the bun and she had beard burn on her neck and face. And the pièce de résistance—tears in her eyes.

  He looked like a complete ass, but he wouldn’t let her manipulate him. Women like her didn’t cry, unless they thought the display would get them something. With nothing left to say, he turned away and walked out the door. Better he ended this now. They were like oil and water, even though they’d mixed pretty well in the closet, creating chemistry that he could only describe as combustible.

  She’d turned him to steam, responded as if she’d been made for him, and proved a redhead could be his type. Walking away took all his strength and several times he’d almost turned around to go back, and of all things, make sure he hadn’t hurt her. He knew then he was screwed. Shit. Maybe not right now, but sometime in the near future he would go back. One taste of Lannie Sawyer would never be enough—even if she wanted to use him.

  “So did you...?”

  “Noni, oh hell no.” She hid her face in her hands. Of course they’d think they had sex with some of the things yelled back and forth behind the closed door, and the hand-on-the-crotch comment he’d all but shouted out. Plus, if they factored in her mauled and well-manhandled appearance when she came out, they’d draw one conclusion—and had.

  “Watch your mouth, young lady. You know how I feel about cussing.”

  “No. We didn’t and we never will. That man is an...arrogant...a....ooh.” She growled and stomped her foot. “Egotistical, self-righteous, womanizing....ahhh!” So many choices, none appropriate in present company.

  Noni shook her head and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t, Lannie. Tanner wants you something fierce, and he’s not a bad guy. From the glazed-over expression on you’re wearing, I’d say the feeling is mutual. You need to play hard to get and he’ll come around.”

  “I can’t play hard to get, and I don’t want him. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.” Noni didn’t understand her future rested on his cooperation. “He accused me of stalking him and trying to
seduce him in a nursing home, of all places. Me! Look at me. I’m not exactly the seductress type.”

  Her grandmother’s gaze swept her to head to toe and the old woman raised her brow.

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “This outfit is an exception, and I didn’t put it on to seduce him. I swear to....”

  “Don’t you curse again, or I’m getting the dish soap.”

  Lannie threw her hands in the air and growled. “You can’t understand what I’m going through.” No way could she back off as her grandmother suggested—or seduce him. She didn’t have the luxury and had promised herself weeks ago, she wouldn’t worry Noni with the details. There could never be anything between her and Tanner. If she let her hormones run the show, she’d find herself with not only a broken heart, but a homeless grandmother.

  “Well, I know men better than you think, and I’m not the only one here who can help.” Noni grabbed her arm and steered her toward the recreation room. “You happen to be in the company of experts.” Several of the old ladies nodded their heads.

  “I used to dance burlesque,” one petite woman who appeared close to ninety, piped up. “In Chicago.”

  “Okay....” Lannie began to back away. “I got to go.” Classes on how to snag a man, courtesy of Noni and friends. Things had changed a great deal since the twenties and thirties. Did they really think they could help her with their old-fashioned tricks, and did she really want to snag this man?