Savor the Danger

by Lori Foster

  “Hey.” As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Jackson pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, the bridge of her nose. Sounding much as he had last night, he said, “You are pretty, Alani. So damn pretty.” His mouth brushed her ear. “All over.”

  Face warm, she shook off the remnants of old emotion, fear and desolation from her kidnapping, discomfort from her naiveté last night.

  “Thank you.” Dare had killed her kidnappers, and her brother now focused on destroying all human traffickers. She wasn’t with those men anymore. She was with Jackson, and he was about all she could handle right now. “You also said I was sweet.”

  His burning gaze zeroed in on the notch of her thighs. “God, I bet you are.”

  Her knees went shaky, so she pushed back from him. Hoping for a few calm moments to think, she said, “We have to figure this out, Jackson, so leash the lust.”

  His chin went up as he stared down at her. “Woman, you ask the impossible.”

  “Do it anyway!”

  Sighing, lifting his hands from her as if in surrender, he stepped back. “This is me trying.”

  Though the situation couldn’t be more skewed, he remained strong and capable. She envied him that. “What do you think happened? Did you drink?”

  “Doubt it.” He shook his head. “I can’t remember, but I’m not much of a drinker.” And then with a shrug, “Never have been.”

  She knew that about him. It was a control thing. Her brother and Dare…they disdained alcohol because it could throw off reflexes or perception, and they were all about control—of themselves and others. If Jackson imbibed much, they wouldn’t trust him.

  She didn’t know the whole story of how Jackson came to join their team, but not long after she’d been recovered from Tijuana, they’d brought him on board. Obviously they trusted him, and that meant Alani could trust him, too—at least about this.

  With anything more personal, like a romantic relationship, she just didn’t know.

  He watched her every move. “I rummaged through my apartment, even the garbage, but I didn’t see any empty bottles. No sign of a drinking binge on my end.”

  Suspicions crowded in, but for the moment, she pushed them aside. “Did you maybe fall and hit your head?”

  That insulted him. “No.” He snorted. “Course not.”

  “But you don’t remember, right? So how do you know?”

  Roughly tousling his own hair, he said, “See? No bruises, no bumps.” He moved in again. “In fact, other than a few scratches that I’m hoping came from you, I don’t have any marks—no bruises or cuts or anything.”

  “Scratches?”

  His mouth quirked sensually. “On my shoulders. Small half moons right where a woman usually holds on tight when she’s—”

  “So.” Interrupting seemed the safer course. “You probably weren’t involved in a scuffle, then.”

  He shook his head. “Let’s talk about what might’ve happened…after.”

  Would his possibilities mesh up with her suspicions? Likely. “After what?”

  He pointed a finger at her. “Maybe you don’t understand how it is for me, how it’d be for any guy, but especially for me since I’ve been hot on your tail for a while now.”

  The things he said, and how he said them, were both insulting and somehow…flattering. “Jackson…”

  “To make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings, let me clue you in, okay? I’ve got a bad case for you.”

  “Sexual chemistry. I know. You’ve told me.” Last night it had felt like more, but last night didn’t exist for him.

  “Call it whatever you want, doesn’t matter to me.”

  Sadly, what they called it mattered a lot to her. “I see.”

  “Don’t go twisting my words, okay?” Jackson thrust out his chin. “Bottom line is that I have to know what we did. All of it.”

  “I already told you.”

  “We had sex, yeah. Got it. But that could mean a whole range of things. I need the particulars, like if it was nice and slow, or fast and furious.”

  Oh. She peeked at him. “Both?”

  He went still, then clasped his head and groaned again. In a croak, he asked, “Good old missionary, or did we mix it up a bit? Bedroom or living room?”

  The first time had been in his bed. Then his shower. And later in the hall, against the wall. “All of the above.”

  His nostrils flared. “How many times did I have you, anyway?”

  She bit her lips then ventured… “All night?”

  Jerking away, he stalked three steps, then rushed back to her. “Lights on or off?”

  “On.” He’d insisted, but at that point, she hadn’t cared. She had enjoyed the concentrated way he’d looked at her, and she’d wanted to see him, too.

  Not only had she forgotten any shyness over her nudity, she’d also forgotten about the past, about men who’d taken her and looked at her, handled her like property. With Jackson, she’d overcome a lot of hang-ups. Maybe too many, considering the night had been built on fraud.

  His expression a mix of pleading and demand, he grabbed her shoulders. “Damn, baby, I need to see you again. All of you. I need to know how you sound when you’re excited, and when you come.” His busy fingers went to the shoulder strap of her sundress, touching almost idly, playing with it as if it tempted him greatly. “I need to taste you, smell you—”

  Stunned, flustered and a little turned on, Alani grabbed his wrist. She hated to disappoint him—and herself—but she saw no other choice. Not right now. “Jackson,” she said gently, “you can’t seriously expect me to put aside everything that happened and just…”

  “Pick up wherever we left off? Yeah.” He searched her gaze. “God, yeah.”

  “Not happening.” But he looked very endearing in his need. No one had ever wanted her the way Jackson Savor did.

  He also looked ready to collapse. Worried for him, she touched his jaw and forced her mind onto more immediate matters. “Have you eaten?”

  He scowled. “No. Screw that.” He drew himself up. “You think I could wake up with you naked, soft and smiling one minute, pissed off and storming out the next, with no clue why or how, and I’d just go about my day?”

  Yes, well, that did sound absurd. “Sorry.”

  “After you left, I suffered through a cold shower, choked down three aspirin and prayed for even a kernel of memory. I got jack-shit. Nothing.”

  And yet, when he should be resting in his bed, all he wanted was…her.

  Her heart softened more, and her reservations waned. “Why do you think you’ve forgotten?”

  Frustration clenched his jaw. His head dropped back on his shoulders, eyes closed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  How could she, especially with him looking so sick? “Of course not.”

  His eyes narrowed, and that, too, looked painful, prompting her to change tactics.

  “This is ridiculous. You need to sit down.” She took his hand and led him back to her living room. At the couch, she stopped and pressed against his chest. “Sit.”

  After a heartbeat where he looked as if he might argue, he more or less fell into the cushions, his strong limbs lax, his entire demeanor devastated. And the enormity of it all hit her, really hit her.

  Even the strongest of men had moments of weakness. Jackson always seemed so indomitable, so confident.

  But for right now, he needed her, in more ways than one.

  Maybe she hadn’t been the only one played last night.

  Sinking down next to him, Alani touched his forehead. As if surprised, he went very still.

  “No fever.” She cupped his jaw, and felt it firm under her fingers. “Although you are warm.”

  Warily, Jackson watched her.

  She smoothed his unruly blond hair. It was a little too long, bleached by the sun. Cool and silky. Such a contrast to his inner strength and his external hardness.

  Alani made up her mind. “We’re definitely going
to talk about this, Jackson, you can believe that. But first I’m going to get you something to drink, and then something to eat. When did you take the aspirin?”

  One eye twitched in rebellion. “Don’t start mothering me, Alani. That’s not what I want from you.”

  She smiled at his surly tone. “Consider it friendly concern, okay?”

  “Call it whatever you want, but I’d rather you lift up that dress, skim off those panties and straddle my lap.”

  His audacity stole her breath and her aplomb. “Forget that idea.”

  “With you touching me? Not likely.”

  “It’s not my touch that’s doing it.” Playful, hoping to tease him into a less sexually aggressive mode, she nudged him with her shoulder. “It’s from all the provocative talking you’re doing.”

  Slowly he shook his head. “It’s from you, babe. Talking to you, thinking about you.” His eyes closed for only a moment as he whispered, “Remembering you naked.” He rested a big, hot hand on her thigh, just under the hem of her sundress.

  “You need to focus, Jackson.”

  “I’m focused, believe me.”

  Boy, was he ever. “On something other than sex.”

  “I’m focused on you, and thoughts of sex automatically follow.” He tugged her closer. “But you know, I could be a lot more cooperative if you’d help me take the edge off first.”

  And exactly how did he think to do that?

  His hand slid higher while his voice went lower. “Just let me touch you—”

  She grabbed his wrist. So thick, so solid. Dangerous waves of desire weakened her resistance. “We can’t do this.”

  “We sure as hell can.” And then, “We already did. Right?”

  Unnerved by how tempted she felt, Alani shook her head. “I can’t do this, not right now. So tell me, when did you take the aspirin?”

  He stared at her mouth, and his fingers contracted. “Before I headed here, ’bout three hours ago.”

  Relieved that he’d finally let up, she released a tight breath. “All right. I’ll get a couple more. Do you want to take off your boots?”

  Slowly he nodded. “And my shirt.” His gaze came up to snare hers. “Maybe my pants, too.”

  That was his most tempting offer so far. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough time to look at him last night, and this morning…well, he’d been vague, sick, and she’d been so insulted….

  To remind herself as much as him, she said, “Forget it, Jackson. You’re not up for it.”

  “Wrong.” His hand slid around to cup behind her knee. He tugged her leg toward him, over one of his thighs. “Trust me, I’m up.”

  Don’t look, don’t look— Unbelievable. A full erection strained the worn denim of his jeans.

  “Jackson.” Before things could get completely out of hand, Alani pushed up and away from him. “Be right back.”

  She heard Jackson groan as she more or less fled the room.

  When she returned minutes later with the aspirin, a cola and a sandwich, Jackson looked to be sleeping again. He had his head back, one forearm over his eyes, his body relaxed.

  She wasn’t fooled; he still had an erection, so she knew he was wide-awake. “Here you go.”

  Lowering the arm, he tracked her every move as she set the plate of food on the coffee table and sat down beside him to hand him the aspirin.

  He eyed the glass of ice and foaming cola. “You open a new can?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t accept the aspirin. Showing his teeth in the semblance of a smile, he said, “Let’s strike a bargain.”

  Given the look in his eyes, Alani already had an idea what he’d say. She had tried to use her time in the kitchen to collect herself. One look at Jackson, and she was lost again. “What kind of bargain?”

  He caught her wrist and tugged her toward him. “Kiss me, and I’ll take the aspirin.”

  She wanted to so badly. “Only a kiss?” she asked doubtfully.

  “For now.”

  She hesitated. He didn’t.

  Taking her lack of denial as agreement, he drew her closer saying, “C’mon now, you can at least give me that.”

  “I…” Was it even possible to resist him? She didn’t think so. “All right.”

  She’d barely gotten the words out before his mouth covered hers in a kiss that was soft, hot.

  Deep.

  Before she knew it, he had her on her back on the sofa. He still held her wrist as he settled between her legs, pinning her down with his big body. He turned his head for a more complete fit, his tongue moving past her teeth, teasing hers.

  Alani quickly lost the fight, already wanting him, needing him—and he freed her mouth.

  Balanced over her, he dragged in a breath. “I’m coming on too strong.”

  “Yes.” But she actually liked it.

  He sawed his teeth together. “Just so you know, honey. You can trust me. No means no to me. If you say it—”

  “I will.”

  Panting, he pushed up on stiffened arms and said, “Give me the damn aspirin.” But he didn’t wait for her. He took them from her hand, tossed them back and reached for the drink. After downing half the glass, he plunked it back to the coffee table and stared at her. “We going for round two?”

  “Round two?”

  He gave one sharp nod. “You want me to eat, you gotta kiss me again.”

  Forget bargains. His obvious need made everything else unimportant. Already reaching for him, she said, “Okay.”

  His eyes blazed. He lowered himself to her.

  And a knock sounded on her front door.

  Alani went stiff with apprehension.

  Jackson cursed under his breath.

  The knock sounded again, more urgent this time, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock.

  Ohmigod. That had to be her brother; no one else had a key to her place. She shoved frantically at Jackson’s shoulders. “Jackson, move!”

  On a ragged groan, he started to do just that—and the door opened.

  They both swiveled their heads.

  Not only her brother stood there, but Dare, too. Both men froze.

  Alani’s heart shot into her throat. She was trying to think of what to say, how to ease the awkwardness, when Jackson sat up and pulled her into his side.

  As if awkward situations didn’t faze him at all, he said, “I’d shoot you both for rotten timing, but I guess we had to do this sooner or later.”

  His face drawn from his surprise, his eyes narrowed and his demeanor mean, Trace slammed the door. “Yeah,” he said, and he started forward. “Let’s do this now.”

  JACKSON WAS MORE than a little amazed when, before he could even decide if he wanted to face off with Trace or not, Alani jumped up to stand in front of him. She spread her slim arms wide and braced her feet apart. “Knock it off, Trace. Right now.”

  Furious, Trace drew up short. “I knew you were fibbing when you told me you were at the movies.”

  “Sorry about that.” Alani squirmed in guilt. “I just… I needed some time.”

  “So I see.”

  Brows climbing high, Dare leaned around Trace to see Jackson. “She’s protecting you?”

  Suffering his own surprise, Jackson settled back into the couch. “Guess so.”

  With his first good look at Jackson, Dare recoiled. “Jesus, man. You look like—”

  “Shit. I know.” He caught Alani’s waist and plunked her down…right into his lap. Her backbone went stiff, probably from shock at his daring.

  To her brother, he said, “Get a grip, Trace. We need to talk.”

  Held back by Alani’s displeasure and probably his own sense of fair play, Trace locked his jaw. “It hardly needs explanation.”

  “’Fraid it does.”

  Stiffening even more, Alani gasped and jerked around to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

  Her appalled tone quadrupled Dare and Trace’s curiosity. Trace asked, “Don’t dare do what?”
/>
  Jackson didn’t want to embarrass her, so it was with a lot of regret that he said reasonably, “They have to know, honey.”

  “Jackson…” she warned.

  “One of you better spit it out,” Dare said. “My imagination is in hyperdrive.”

  “I think someone drugged me.”

  Dare and Trace pulled back. “Well, hell,” Dare said. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

  Alani tried to leave him, but Jackson held on, and short of causing a scene, she couldn’t.

  Trace, never one to miss a thing, glared.

  Dare sat on the edge of the chair, patience personified. “All right, let’s hear it.”

  Alani struggled anew, and that prodded Trace’s anger. In a deadly whisper, he ordered, “Let her go.”

  His deadly whispers didn’t faze Jackson. “Not happening.”

  Trace started forward.

  And just that quick, Alani stopped fighting him and instead went back to defending him. “Stop right there, Trace! I mean it.”

  Trace pulled up short, his left eye twitching.

  No sense in dragging this out and making it worse, Jackson decided. “I woke up this morning with—”

  “Jackson!”

  “—Alani in bed with me.”

  A collective breath-holding took place. Hell, he could almost hear heartbeats, it got so damn quiet. Jackson looked at Dare and then Trace.

  Giving Alani a slight hug, he said, “Thing is, I have no recollection at all of getting her there.”

  Beyond their slack-jawed surprise, neither Dare nor Trace reacted.

  Jackson shrugged. “For a few hours this morning I was sick as hell, seeing double, light-headed, weak.”

  Alani looked guilty, probably because she’d stormed out on him. But he understood her reaction. Always, whenever he’d considered getting her under him, he’d thought in terms of gentleness, easing her into things, showing deference to her lack of experience and the trauma of her past.

  Had he been gentle with her? God, he hoped so, because her proverbial “morning after” sure had sucked. It’d been memorable—for being so awful.

  Jackson hugged her again. Of course Dare and Trace both noticed.