“Adam.”
“Yes?”
“I have to tell you something.”
Oh, fuck. The last time she’d said that, she was sixteen and had declared her love to his forty-one year old self. Not ready for another such declaration, Adam tried to move her off his chest, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have the strength to lift her. He hated being physically compromised. “Look, Karla…”
She giggled. He felt his dick get stiff. What was it about a woman’s giggle that turned him on?
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing like what I said on my parents’ front porch.”
He relaxed and she grinned.
“What is it, hon?” Don’t call her “hon.” She may get the wrong idea—again. Why didn’t she do as he’d told her and get out of this tiny fucking bed? Don’t mention fucking and bed while you’re holding Karla in your arms.
Her hand stroked his chest, almost absently, although she certainly had his undivided attention. Her touch was tentative, gentle. He hadn’t let a woman get this close since Joni. Even with Grant, his friend-with-benefits partner at the Masters at Arms Club he co-owned, sex had been rough, hard, sometimes even brutal. A physical release for them both, nothing more. Neither had ever wanted anything more.
But Karla was more fragile both physically and emotionally. She’d just lost her brother, who had meant the world to her. That grief was what had brought her to his club in the first place. Adam had cared about her since he’d rescued her nine years earlier in the Chicago bus station, not that he’d shown her much support these past few months. Hell, no. He’d been too busy running in the opposite direction. Adam didn’t know what it was that scared him the most—their age difference of twenty-five years, the thought of his corrupting her any more than he’d already done by bringing her onto the payroll at his kink club last July, or that she might get under his skin and expect more from him than he could give.
Hell, he’d lay odds she was still a virgin, or damned close to being one. She didn’t have any interest in BDSM and had no place in a club where she had to witness so many things that obviously freaked her out. He’d seen her cringe as she watched Damián wield the whip or heard one of Grant’s subs screaming at the center post as the female Marine delivered a public and painful punishment.
“When I saw you lying there on the ground…” Karla cleared her throat. “The cougar was so big. You were bleeding. So much blood. I thought you’d been killed.”
He pulled her close to him. Just this once. He needed to reassure her that he was going to be fine. “I’m pretty ornery. No cat is going to get the best of me.”
“Well, I’ll give you ornery.”
He chuckled. “Ah, glad my secret’s out. Keeping up appearances can be exhausting.” She felt so good lying in his arms, even though he was too weak to keep his arms around her much longer. His biceps were feeling the strain. Damn, he was getting old.
“Worst-kept secret around. You’ve been very ornery lately.” She paused, stroking his chest. He wished she’d get the fuck out of this bed. His dick was throbbing to the point of pain. Having her in his arms was totally wrong.
“I’m sorry about whatever I did to upset you…” Her voice broke, along with his resolve.
Oh, shit. He'd made her cry. “Hon, you didn’t do anything.” Except look so fucking sexy you drive me insane. “I just have some shit going on in my head. I never meant to make you feel bad.” So why are you about to make her feel worse? “But I think it might be good for you to think about moving back to Chicago. You don’t belong in a kink club.”
She pushed herself up and looked him in the face, her blue eyes steely as she glared at him.
“Adam, you will not send me away—not until you’re better, at least. I know you’re too stubborn to see it, but you need me. I’m going to take care of you, just like you took care of me when I first got here. This is all my fault. If you hadn’t distracted that cougar…”
He pressed a finger over her lips, then pulled back, her sexy pink lips not being something he needed to be touching at the moment. The dark circles under her eyes and her thin, pale face worried him. But if she’d been attacked… “If I hadn’t distracted that cougar, you’d be the one hooked to the IV. Or worse.” He stroked her cheek, unable to help himself. The thought of that cougar marring any part of her beautiful body tore at his gut worse than the cat’s claws had torn up his back. “I did what anyone would do. Besides, my hide’s tougher than yours. Damned cat didn’t stand a chance.” He grinned. When she reciprocated, he stared at her lips for the longest time, wondering what it would be like to kiss them.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Get out of this bed, Karla. Now.”
* * *
Eleven days later, Karla waited in the hallway outside Adam’s bedroom, pacing. When she heard the door, she turned and watched Marc D’Alessio come out, carrying his first-aid bag. Adam had been home nine days and seemed to be healing, but he was still recovering, first from the infection and then the deep injuries to his muscles. She hated watching him suffer in pain every day. He’d always been such a vital force.
Adam would take the antibiotics from her, but sometimes refused his pain pills and absolutely refused to let her see his back. Marc stopped by twice a day since Adam had come home to change the dressings and apply analgesics to try to keep Adam comfortable. Karla was secretly glad Marc didn’t mind re-dressing his wounds, because—having served as a corpsman with one of the Adam’s Marine units in Iraq—he certainly had more expertise in the area than she did.
“Whatever you’re doing, Karla, keep it up. I can see a huge improvement from one day to the next. Now he’s getting cantankerous, too. Should be back to his old self again in no time.”
She felt some of the tension leave her body. “Thank you.” The words were barely spoken above a whisper. Exhausted, she wondered how she managed to remain upright anymore. Word that Adam was doing better overloaded her with emotion and her upper lip began to quiver. Marc held his arms out and she walked into his embrace. Really needing a hug right now, she let him bear her weight for a moment. If only it were Adam holding her.
“Where the stitches were removed, there’s no sign of re-injury. Just keep him from overdoing it. He’s chomping at the bit to get out of that bed. I gave him one of the pain pills, though, after I treated the wounds and bandaged him up again. He’ll sleep for awhile, so why don’t you come down and have lunch? Angelina’s cooking up something good, I’m sure.”
“No, I…”
He placed his hands on her upper arms and pushed her away from him, waiting until she looked up into his eyes. “Apparently, you misunderstood me, Karla. You are coming downstairs to have lunch with us. Now.” Without waiting for her to respond, he took her elbow in his firm grip and steered her toward the stairs. “You know you aren’t going to do him any good if you don’t take care of yourself. You need to remember to eat and sleep, too.”
She knew he was right, but the guilt that plagued her every waking moment wouldn’t release its hold. He’d been injured trying to save her and now suffered in her place.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and he motioned for her to precede him down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. Angie left the stove and came toward her. “Oh, sweetie, you look exhausted. Didn’t you get any sleep last night either?”
“Not much. It’s hard to sleep in a chair.” And I don’t want to miss it if Adam needs me during the night.
Angie wrapped her arms around her and Karla’s already shaky rein on her emotions evaporated. She held on for dear life, too exhausted to fight the tears off anymore. God, she despised being so powerless. She imagined Adam must feel frustrated, too.
“I hate seeing him lying there. He’s always been so strong. Invincible. I know he’s getting stronger, but he still has so far to go…”
Angie stroked her hair. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. You were there for me when I was beaten down. I want to b
e there for you, too.”
Karla was so glad she’d met this woman, albeit under unusual circumstances. When the man who had brought her to the Masters at Arms Club in late August had become abusive toward her in one of the club’s theme rooms, causing her to plunge into deep subspace, Marc had rescued her. But he was needed as a Dungeon Monitor Supervisor in the busy club that night to keep an eye on other scenes. He’d carried Angie upstairs and Adam had asked Karla to watch over her until she recovered enough for Karla to take her home to Aspen Corners, about three hours away.
When she’d dropped Angie off at home the next morning, battered and disheartened, Karla hadn’t ever expected to see her anywhere near the club again. But she and Marc had somehow reconnected in her hometown a month later following a search-and-rescue mission Marc and Luke were on, and they’d wound up bringing her back to the club. Somehow Angie didn’t know Marc had been the one to rescue her. Karla and others at the club had been brought into perpetuating the lie for reasons Karla still didn’t understand. But Marc and Angelina seemed to be willing to work things out and had been together almost ever since.
Every year since her college roommate and best friend, Cassie López, had moved to Colorado, she and Karla had spent a week together in the fall, including an annual overnight camping trip on one of Colorado’s Fourteeners. This year they’d chosen Mount Evans near Denver and Karla and Angie had picked up Cassie at her remote mountain cabin home during the first week of October. When they got to their camping spot, all hell broke loose when Angie’s abusive ex-boyfriend, who had been stalking her, kidnapped her.
Karla had called Adam to report Angie missing and he’d notified Marc, Luke, and Damián. By the time they’d all arrived, Angie had outsmarted her stalker and escaped unharmed. Minutes later, though, Karla had been threatened by a cougar, leading Adam to try to entice the cat away from Karla, only to be attacked himself.
Angie had become a good friend in a short time. The loneliness Karla had experienced since arriving at the club in July disappeared when Angie came for a visit last week. Since the cougar attack, however, Angie had been staying at Marc’s house—well, when they weren’t at Adam’s, but both had spent a lot of time here, too, after Adam had come home.
Angie told her she hoped to move out of Aspen Corners for good once she found a job as a chef here in town. Karla understood her need for financial independence. Adam provided for so many of Karla’s personal needs—room, board, clothing. She felt guilty about that and, while she’d never admit this to her independent mother or friends, she also liked being taken care of. If that was the only role Adam wanted to play in her life, then she’d take it.
“Kitty, let me sit with him tonight so you can get some sleep. I feel like a fifth wheel around here anyway.”
Karla glanced over her shoulder at Cassie, whose Peruvian heritage, with her lustrous long dark hair and a beautiful olive complexion that Karla would give almost anything to have, gave her an exotic persona, accentuated by the scent of freesia that surrounded her. Her best friend wrapped her in a big hug, probably hating to have been caught up in all this drama.
Karla had rarely left Adam’s side since he was in the hospital. Now that he’d come home, Cassie stayed on to support her friend. She helped with meals, laundry, and watching over Adam while Karla showered or a napped.
“Just having you here has helped me so much, Cassie.”
The kitchen door opened and in walked Luke Denton, Marc’s search-and-rescue partner and the newest Dom at the club. Adam and his friends pretty much had run of the building, which included the club and Adam’s private living quarters.
“Something smelled good all the way out on the porch.” He walked over to Angie, placed a hand on her back, and started to kiss her on the cheek, then halted and turned to Marc. “Permission to kiss the cook.”
“Granted—but only on the cheek.” The two Doms exchanged an amicable look, but Karla had to wonder if there hadn’t been something between Luke and Angie at some point. However, the woman clearly had no interest in anyone other than Marc these days. “I think I might need to do a better job of explaining some protocols to you, Baby Dom—like teaching you to ask before you touch—let alone kiss—another Dom’s sub.”
“Oh, behave, you two,” Angie said. “Too much testosterone in here—and we’re not in the club right now, so protocols don’t apply for us.”
Angie had told Karla she and Marc were strictly Dom/sub in the bedroom and while playing at the club. Karla had learned a lot about people in the BDSM lifestyle since she’d gotten the job to perform at the club, but there was still so much she didn’t understand.
“Some protocols always apply, cara, such as respecting another Dom’s property. Maybe we need to renegotiate our agreement.”
“But you promised…” Karla saw a flash of uncertainty cross Angie’s eyes and Marc chuckled.
“I’m not saying I want less Dom/sub time, cara, but maybe more.” When he held his arms open, she went into them.
Karla looked away, happy for them, but wishing she and Adam could have a relationship like theirs.
Luke grinned at the couple, clearly without hard feelings, then turned to greet Karla. Instead, his attention homed in on Cassie, who had crept back to her safe place with her sketchpad at the kitchen table. Karla wished Cassie would at least give Luke a chance. The two had first met in the hospital waiting room almost two weeks ago. When Cassie had sketched a picture of Luke’s dead wife as an angel holding the baby presumably she’d pregnant with when she was killed. Cassie had never seen Luke’s wife before and yet drew her with uncanny accuracy, Luke had said. His wife appeared to be carrying the baby she was pregnant with when she was killed. Luke had looked devastated to see the image.
Karla couldn’t help but think someone from the other side was trying to bring the two of them together. She’d like to help her friend find love and happiness, even if those emotions weren’t possible for Karla—at least not with the man she wanted to enjoy them with.
Karla walked closer to the table, pleased to see Luke’s attention remained on her friend. “Cassie, I know you probably need to get back home soon. There must be any number of artist commissions you need to be working on.”
Right on cue, Luke offered, “If you need a ride, Cassie, I’d be happy to run you home.” Cassie grew tense. Karla realized it was too soon for that. She went over to her and stroked her friend’s back, hoping to calm her fears. With her history, of course Cassie wouldn’t be comfortable alone with him, even if he didn’t pose an actual threat to her.
Luckily, Angie came to her rescue. “Cassie, I need to go back to my house in a few days and pack up some more things. I could take you home then.” Cassie was only about thirty minutes from Aspen Corners.
Karla watched a relieved smile flit across Cassie’s face. She wished her friend wasn’t afraid of all men, but understood why. Her former roommate had an aversion to all men after a brutal attack she suffered in Peru, her homeland, during a break from college.
Gentle Luke wouldn’t hurt a soul, nor would any of the Doms at the Masters at Arms. Perhaps if she wasn’t alone so much, she could become more comfortable around men. Maybe some day, Cassie would be able to let a man get close enough to win over her heart.
“Thanks, Angie. I’d like that, but only when Kitty’s ready to kick me out.”
Karla grinned at her. Thinking about anything other than Adam right now was more than she could manage right now, so knowing Cassie had a way back to her cabin was a relief for her, if things stretched out too long.
Marc came over and stroked Karla’s arm. “You’re going to take a nap after lunch while one of us sits with Adam.”
Karla pulled away and wiped her suddenly damp eyes with the arms of her black long-sleeved t-shirt. Time to change the subject before she started sobbing.
Looking at the stove, Karla asked, “What smells so good?”
“Penne pasta with roasted red peppers and garlic.”
&
nbsp; “God, Angie, you make cooking seem so simple. Will I ever…” Oh, what was the use learning how to cook for Adam now? She’d only had a couple lessons from her chef friend, but Karla wouldn’t be here long enough to make anything for him. Once he was stronger, she’d be going home to Chicago. Her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” Marc said. “Table’s all set. Come, sit down.”
Marc guided her to the head of the table. Adam’s chair. Instead, Karla took the one beside it. Angie carried a baking dish to the table and Marc went over to the counter to retrieve the bread and wine. Seeing them so in sync together just made her feel sadder, which made her feel guiltier. Why begrudge them happiness, just because she could never have it herself?
Luke sat beside Karla, with Cassie at the end of the table. Marc and Angelina sat close to each other across from Karla and Luke. The meal began in silence with the salads, and then Angie dished out the main course for each of them.
Karla’s eyes were drawn to them as Angie reached out and touched Marc’s hand. Even a simple gesture like that was more than she could have with Adam, than Adam would let her have.
“Marc, the sheriff’s office called. Martin’s bail request was denied. Looks like we won’t have to worry about him getting out for awhile. They take kidnapping a whole lot more seriously than battery.”
A look of pain flickered in Marc’s eyes. Angie had suffered at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, Allen Martin. Karla had seen the fear on Marc’s face that evening on Mount Evans when they’d gone to rescue Angie, no doubt thinking the worst had happened. He cared a lot about Angie.
Karla’s hand began to tremble and she rested it on the table so no one else would see the fork shaking in her fingers. Too late. Luke reached out and squeezed her hand until the shaking stopped. When she looked over at him, he smiled.
“Adam would want you to eat more than that.”
Nobody's Hero Page 2