by Lucy Monroe
“Yes. He was counting.”
“He was tracking the time on the alarm and your time without air. The mark of a professional.”
“But I thought you said he was an amateur?”
“I’m having trouble classifying him, to tell the truth.”
“Why does it matter if the person who came after me was ‘in the business’ or not?” she asked, using a phrase she’d learned from Lester.
“One thing about that terrorist group we took down…they were well trained. Too much about this attack does not jive with that.”
“But nothing else makes sense.” If she kept saying it, maybe he would get it. “No one could want to kill me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She couldn’t believe he had to ask. Maybe she was naïve, but she didn’t think most people spent a lot of time worrying about getting knocked off. “I’m positive.”
“Then I guess we’re going with the theory that it’s Josie they are after. For now, anyway.”
For forever, as far as she was concerned. “That means she’s in danger.”
“Not hardly, if the people going after her are all as untrained as your assailant, but I already contacted Nitro to alert him to the situation.”
“Good. I hope they are having a great time.”
“According to Nitro, it’s heaven on earth.”
She couldn’t imagine the taciturn man saying anything that effusive, but he must have implied his version of the equivalent. And that did not surprise her. Nitro and Josette had found something that Claire thought was extremely rare…honest, reciprocal, and unconditional love between two people who could genuinely count on each other.
Hotwire paused. “He and Josie want me to stay with you until they return.”
“I…”
“If you say it’s not necessary, I’m going to get irritated.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. It is necessary. Even I can see that. I don’t want to end up a corpse in my own bed, but I don’t know how it’s going to work out for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“What about your business?”
“I’ve been working remotely from this suite for the last few days already.”
He’d said something when he first brought her to the hotel about having been in Portland a few days. It hadn’t computed at the time, but now it made sense.
Sort of. “That explains how you got to the hospital so fast, but I don’t understand why you were here. Are you on an assignment?”
“Not unless you count watching over you.”
“You came for me?”
“Yes.”
“But why? I mean, I know Josette asked you to keep an eye out for me, but I think she meant make the occasional phone call, not keep a watching brief.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t like being so far away when your alarm went off the first time. There was nothing I could do from Montana. So, I decided to take care of that.”
This man took his promises to his friends very seriously. “So, why didn’t you come and stay at the house?”
He grimaced, his gaze filled with self-censure. “I should have. None of this would have happened if I’d been there.”
Her own eyes widened. “You can’t believe that. It’s not your fault. You can’t be sure your presence would have made any difference.”
“Can’t I?”
That actually made her smile, despite the fact that her head was pounding. “Your arrogance is showing again.”
“Again?”
“You’re pretty impressed with your effect on women, too.”
“I prefer to think of it as justifiably confident. There’s a reason roosters strut, you know.”
She laughed and then had to smother a groan at the pain it brought. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t come to the house.” Was it the bash she’d receive to the head that made everything so confusing, or was this situation as surreal as it felt to her? “Surely you don’t think I would have minded?”
He shook his head, his expression primitive and just slightly predatory. “I checked into the hotel because I knew that if I stayed with you, I’d be sleeping in your bed and not because I kicked you out of it.”
“Oh.” She licked her unaccountably dry lips. “And that would be bad.”
He merely looked at her and let her draw her own conclusions. Of course it would be bad; no matter how good that kiss at the wedding was, she knew sex wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not even close, and sex between them would ruin what there was of a friendship between them.
It always did.
She didn’t ask him what he planned to do now since the decision to stay together had been taken out of both their hands.
Hotwire watched as Claire tried to stifle yet another yawn. She’d insisted on staying out of bed and watching television after lunch. She’d wanted to study for her finals, but he’d bullied her into resting. It hadn’t been that hard after he explained he’d already been in touch with the university and she was scheduled to take them all a week late.
Graduating midyear had a lot of advantages, one of them being that she wasn’t under a graduation ceremony deadline. He was glad, because he got the impression that no amount of bullying or logic would have held her back if putting off taking the finals meant waiting to graduate.
Unlike Josette, who had been content to take her education at a slower pace, Claire was driven to finish now. It could be because of finances, but he got the feeling there was more to it than that. He’d like to know what, and now that they were forced to be in one another’s company, he intended to live dangerously and indulge his curiosity about her.
He stood and stretched. He’d been working on a security plan for a large computer manufacturer while surreptitiously watching Claire lose her battle with exhaustion.
He walked over to her. “I think it’s time you went back to bed.”
“It’s still the middle of the day.”
He bent down and lifted her, noting with some concern that she didn’t complain at all. “If you want to get well enough to study for your finals, you need to rest so you can resume normal activities,” he said as he carried her through to the bedroom.
She grimaced in pain as he tucked her into bed.
“I’ll get you your meds. You haven’t had any since you got up earlier.”
“No, thank you. I don’t need anything.” But her pain-dulled eyes denied her claim.
“You don’t have to put on a tough front for my benefit. You need the pain medication and you’re taking it.”
“It’s not a front.” Her all-too-kissable mouth flattened into an intractable line. “No meds.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like drugs. Of any kind.”
“It’s pain medication, sugar. You’re not shooting up heroin.”
“No.”
“You need it.”
“No.”
His teeth gritted with frustration. “You are being stupidly stubborn.”
“Maybe you can do that thing you did last night with my feet?” she asked, like she was offering a concession. “It helped.”
He shook his head, whether against his own urges or her denial, he wasn’t sure. “I know you’re into health food and all that, but a few doses of pain medication are not going to permanently damage your body.”
“No.”
“Don’t you know any other words?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be an irritant, but I really don’t want to take any more pills. If you don’t want to do the thing with my feet, that’s okay. I’ll be fine. Really.”
“You’re a lousy liar.” He reached out and brushed her hair from her temple. “I’ll do the acupressure massage, but you have to promise to take the pain meds if it doesn’t help enough.”
She said nothing and he knew he didn’t have her agreement.
He would have to do a very thorough job with the massage. Uncovering her feet, he took one into h
is hand. He was thorough, using every bit of skill he had learned. Her eyes slid shut and her facial muscles relaxed slightly, telling him he was having an effect.
He massaged up her calves, using a combination of kneading and acupressure to decrease the pain and leave her muscles pliant. When he reached her knees, he didn’t test his self-control by going any further. Instead, he moved to her hands, enjoying the feel of her soft skin more than he should as he tried to take away her pain.
No matter what his reason for touching her, it was having a predictable effect on his body. As his kneading fingers moved up her arms to her shoulders, the covers slipped, revealing nipples as hard as his aching cock.
He couldn’t help it—he groaned.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Are you okay? If you’re tired of doing it, you can stop.”
Was she really that naïve? Maybe her hurting head was clouding her reasoning. “I’m not tired of touching you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes slid shut again and he continued the massage, his gaze sliding to those hard little nips over and over again.
He wanted to see them without the barrier of her shirt. Would they be pink or a dusky brown? Sure as certain, right now they were flushed red with arousal.
He continued the massage up her neck, and pressed gently against a series of acupressure points right up to the matching pair on top of her head and between her eyes. Unable to stop himself, he moved his fingers down her temples, her neck, and over her collarbone until he stilled with his fingertips on the upper swells of her breasts.
She moaned, a soft, sexy sound. Her eyes opened again, this time the arousal in their brown depths unmistakable. “Hotwire?”
“There is another natural pain reliever that’s even more effective than acupressure massage.”
She licked her lips. “What?”
“Pleasure. A long, extended climax will release chemicals into your bloodstream that obliterate pain.”
“I…”
He let his hands slide down just far enough to cup her generous breasts, playing his thumbs over the hard peaks. “If you won’t let me give you pain meds, sugar, let me give you pleasure.”
“There’s something wrong with that reasoning, but I can’t quite work out what,” she said in a breathy voice.
“Don’t try too hard. It’ll make your head ache worse.”
Her lips tilted in a small smile. “Heaven forbid.”
“Will you let me pleasure you, Claire?”
“You can try.”
“Is that a dare?”
“No…I’m just not very responsive.”
“Your body says otherwise.”
Her brows drew together. “Yes, it’s really weird. I wonder if the concussion has something to do with it.”
He shook his head at that bit of nonsense. “So, I have your permission to touch you intimately?”
“Yes.” Then she hissed as he pinched her nipples and just as quickly released them.
“Okay, there are a few rules for this kind of pleasuring.”
“Rules?”
“Number one, you need to stay relaxed. At all times.”
“That’s not possible. I don’t feel relaxed right now.”
“Maybe we need to fix that before the pleasure starts. Can I pull the covers back?” he asked, his fingers poised to do so.
“If you’re sure you want to do this.” She sounded like she honestly could not understand why he’d want to. “You know I can’t…”
“I know.” What did she think, he was some kind of selfish adolescent who would demand sex in payment for helping her feel better? “I don’t expect you to and I wouldn’t let you even if you were offering, which I’m intelligent and mature enough to realize you aren’t. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He pulled the blankets back, teasing himself by revealing her sexy curves one tiny bit at a time. When he had the blankets at the bottom of the bed and her entire body was exposed to his hot gaze, he just stopped and stared at her. She had the perfect woman’s figure. Full breasts, a small waist and narrow hips, but not so narrow that she could ever be mistaken for a boy. He knew her butt was heart-shaped, but he’d give about anything to examine it in detail.
He wasn’t going to. It was hard enough on him to be doing this. How he was going to keep his hands off of her after giving her a climax he had no idea, but he’d do it.
He’d faced harder challenges…somewhere in his past, even if he couldn’t remember them.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
“No. You are just so beautiful, it about takes my breath.”
“You like my body?”
Was she serious? “What’s not to like? You’re the stuff adolescent boys’ wet dreams are made of.”
She frowned in distaste. “I don’t want to star in anyone’s wet dreams.”
“Not even mine?”
Her eyes widened and then filled with reluctant interest. “Do you dream about me?”
Instead of answering her, he started touching her feet again. If they started talking about his dreams, he was going to want to live them out, and his current level of arousal was painful enough. She made a purring sound as he kneaded her arches and he smiled.
Giving her even this level of pleasure was a major delight for him. He could grow addicted to that sound.
He worked his way up her legs, reveling in the freedom to touch her, this time with no intention of stopping at her knees. Masseuses did this all the time without getting boners, but day-am…he was so hard he could have drilled for oil in a rock canyon with his penis.
He didn’t mind one bit, though.
The sexual discomfort was worth it because she was relaxing and her eyes had closed again. The frown of pain smoothed from her pale features, to be replaced by an expression of bliss that made him feel as arrogant as she’d accused him of being.
He was doing that to her and he loved it.
He was careful not to touch any blatantly erogenous zones at first as he massaged her body into total liquid compliance to his touch. So when he caressed her breasts again through the shirt, she didn’t even moan. He massaged them as carefully as he had the rest of her body.
When he zeroed in on her nipples, he brought them to rigidity slowly so that her body remained pliant. But once he began to play with them in earnest, she moaned and arched upward.
He pressed down on her breastbone. “Relax, baby. Think boneless, liquid thoughts.”
“Okay,” she sighed out, relaxing once again against the bed.
He played with her, letting one hand slide down her stomach and back up again until the scent of her arousal filled the air around them. Every time she started to stiffen, he stopped touching her or massaged a less erogenous area until she relaxed again. He was shaking with his own need by the time he let his fingertips slide underneath the waistband of her panties.
He almost lost it at the feel of the damp, silky curls covering her mound. She cried out when his finger dipped between her humid, swollen outer labia. He stopped moving his hand and reminded her to relax.
“I can’t. It’s too much.”
“You can do it, Claire. It will be worth it. Trust me.”
“I’ll try,” she said on a pant.
“Breathe slowly, sugar.”
She took a deep breath and did as he said. He started touching her again. She felt so good, so silky and wet and hot.
He dipped into her, barely trespassing her opening. “You are amazingly tight.”
She mumbled something he couldn’t catch and he smiled despite the pain of his acute arousal.
He circled her wetness, brushing upward to contact with her clitoris. The small nub was swollen and hard against his fingertip.
He touched it, telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt to him, but stopping every time she tensed in any way. He brought her to the edge of release again and again while her breathing ruptured. He wanted to keep her from spending until she was so ready to go over, he
could blow on her and she would come.
When they got to that point and she reached her ultimate pleasure, her orgasm lasted as long as most men spent in foreplay. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She arched, crying softly and then moaning out her pleasure.
When her body fell back against the bed in total abandon, he slid his hand from her warmth and then cupped her from the outside of her panties until her breathing pattern indicated she had fallen asleep.
He covered her up and headed for the shower to take care of the boner that had been tenting his jeans for the last hour, or more.
Claire woke up to the sound of a steady thumping. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound, like someone hammering. More like those heartbeat recordings played to calm crying babies. She’d read about it on the Internet and then listened to the wave files that accompanied the article. She had easily understood why the sound soothed babies. It was nice. Comforting.
So was the warmth against her cheek and sense of security she felt, from being held.
Oh, gosh, she was being held. That heartbeat was Hotwire’s and he was underneath her, just like earlier. How had she gotten here?
Had she rolled over on top of him? She couldn’t see him pulling her into his arms, but then she would never have imagined him touching her the way he had before she slept, either. And not expecting recompense in her body. Men just were not that generous.
But he had been.
He had asked if he could give her pleasure to take away the pain. She’d agreed, but been totally unprepared for what he meant by pleasure. She’d never experienced anything like it, which was not so surprising. She’d be willing to bet few women had, but she’d never read about anything like it, either. And she read a lot.
It had worked, too. The dull ache in her head was now nothing like the sharp, slicing pain she’d experienced earlier.
But that still didn’t explain how she had ended up on top of him. She’d been a light sleeper for as long as she could remember. Claire simply could not see how Hotwire could have pulled her into his arms or how she could have rolled on top of him without her waking up.
Not only had she slept very soundly, but she had slept for hours. She could see the bedside clock from where she lay on top of Hotwire. Unbelievably, it was just a little after five A.M. And other than the almost negligible throb of pain in the back of her head, she felt great.