“Will you lay next to me? Will you hold me tonight, until I fall asleep?” she nearly begged again, hiding behind her hooded lashes. She could hear it in her head, sounding childish and scared, and she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to be afraid and this man was the last one she wanted to ask anything of. Tonight could have been her last and she needed a bit of reassurance that tomorrow would come.
“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you again while I was here?” he asked, trying to hide his hurt pride.
“I told you not to touch me, but I never said I didn’t want you to.” Girl logic, go figure. It was amazing what courage you had when pain meds opened your mouth for you.
For a few endless seconds Clay deliberated over her answer and then stood. He took off his shoes, belt and shoulder holster and finally put the safety back on his weapon.
He looked like he expected someone to come storming the building after her. Thankfully nothing had happened there so she always felt the safest in those walls.
Angela rolled over the other direction and the weight of the bed shifted as Clay got in behind her.
Her bed.
The one that had been empty for so long she didn’t remember how it felt to have someone next to her. Clay tucked the covers around her, shifting his weight ever so slightly until he was right behind her. She realized immediately he had removed his shirt as well and his warmth was an elixir she would have spent her last penny on.
She remembered the last time they were this intimate. A lifetime had passed for both of them and then somehow it felt like only yesterday.
“Sleep, Angela,” Clay whispered as he brushed the hair away from her neck, lightly kissing her shoulder.
As he settled next to her, Angela reached back and found his arm laying on his side. Without a word she lifted it, tugging it over her hip, wrapping herself in his embrace. She knew she would regret her lapse in judgment tomorrow, but she moved closer.
She knew the wounds she had so long ago tried to bury would drown her in the morning, but the concussion and pain meds already had her in just enough of a fog to allow her to throw caution out and feel contentment and joy.
She rested her chin against his raw knuckles that she had her fingers wound through and leaned down and kissed them softly.
“I’m sorry you got hurt.” Her eyes finally succumbed to the weight of the drugs in her system.
“You too, baby,” he whispered as she closed her eyes, determined not to get lost in the moment. She could still feel it just as strongly as she had years before. How much she loved him.
What are we going to do? she wondered as she drifted into a dream of the past, or of the future. No clue which she feared more.
Hours later, Angela came to, breathing heavily. A light sheen of sweat covered her entire shivering body.
“Angela, can you hear me?” Clay nearly choked beside her.
She stared at him, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears in check that were threatening to overflow again.
“Clay?” she asked as confusion clung to her brain like a wet blanket. He lowered his forehead to hers, breathing out a sigh of relief.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” she wanted to know when he didn’t say anything else.
He lifted his head and reached over her, rubbing her back softly, as he said, “You must have been having a bad dream. You were calling my name, like you were choking. It was awful. I’ve never felt as helpless as I have tonight,” he added.
Her eyes closed involuntarily and she raised her hands and placed them on his bare chest.
Without thinking it through, she pressed her lips against his warmth and she didn’t even notice that it made his breath catch as hers did. So lost was her body in the sensation of kissing him just because she wanted to.
The hands that had been moving on her back stilled.
“Angela…” was all he could get out as her teeth scraped against his chest. She moved closer under the comforter until her body was pressed full length against him.
Clay cleared his throat and started again, probably trying to gain a handle on the situation that was getting out of hand quickly.
“Angela, we can’t do this.”
Before he could continue she asked, “Why not?” as she continued raining kisses on his chest. Her little tongue peeking out to taste him.
“You’ve just had a near-death experience and you’re reacting off the adrenaline high.” Despite his best protests, his hands were moving over her, learning her again. God, he knew just where to touch, her body pulsing in need for him to take her.
No point in holding back…
“Uh-huh and what was my excuse last night when I almost had you fucking me against the wall of my kitchen?” She ran her fingers around to his back, kneading the muscles she’d ached to hold so long ago.
“That was, um, a reaction to us not seeing each other for a long time.”
“I don’t jump any of my friends from Texas, Clay. I don’t jump any of my friends at all, actually. Haven’t since the last time we were together.” She nibbled his jaw, which had just gone slack.
“What do you mean you haven’t…you haven’t what since us?”
“Us, I like how that sounds. Mmm… I haven’t had sex since we were together a hundred years ago. Wow, that makes me sound like a prude, doesn’t it!” she exclaimed with a wicked smile. “So don’t you think you should help me out a little bit here?”
Clay was certain he had fallen back asleep at some point and this was just one really odd dream. Surely she hadn’t said what he thought she did.
One night, that’s all she’d ever had?
He was pretty sure his dick couldn’t get this hard in a dream, or that Angela would feel so soft and yielding. God, he wanted her. Wanted her so bad he could taste her on his tongue.
He came to, realizing Angela was licking at his lips and drawing his face closer to her pouty smile.
“You’re over-thinking it. Just kiss me,” she cajoled as she brushed her lips against his seductively. Nipping at them when he took too long to decide.
Without thinking, he half rolled her over so she was lying on her back. A leg was still thrown over his and her nipples brushed against his chest with nothing but her soft shirt between them.
He ate her lips as if she were the most exquisite dessert he had ever gotten to taste. Dipping his tongue into her mouth, eliciting a groan from both of them, as her tongue met his.
“You just got out of the hospital. I’m going to do nothing but hurt you.” He tried to think with the right head as his shaft nudged against her belly.
His hand went to her breast and palmed it, holding her nipple between his fingers. Her back arched her chest closer to his hand as she held his face. It had been torture watching her crawl into bed with just a T-shirt and panties on. He should have insisted she put a full suit. Her breasts were such a perfect handful. Tight, firm globes topped with the sweetest berries God ever put on the earth. He could picture it perfectly from the night before in the glaring light in the kitchen. He glanced up, making sure she watched, and had to concentrate real hard not to come in his pants at the look of Angela watching him.
Sexy lashes brushing her cheeks, bee-stung lips that her tongue peeked out between as if she knew that called to his inner caveman. Slowly, he plumped her breast in his hand and leaned down, sucking her nipple, T-shirt and all into his hot mouth.
Her breathing sped up, coming in short gasps as she angled her hips against his. Rubbing against him. Both of them needing relief like they needed air.
“We shouldn’t be…” Clay began again but stopped on a groan when Angela moved higher against him. Now he was angled to penetrate her if their clothes weren’t in the way.
“God, that feels good,” Angela gasped as Clay reached under her nightgown and ran his hands up her back, pressing against her, sho
wing her exactly what she’d been missing.
His fingers snaked around to her stomach again, rimming the edge of her panties, sliding beneath the sweet lace hiding the treasure of wetness he could only catch the faintest whiff of when they moved.
Just as he found the center of her sweet juicy pussy she yelped.
She’d moved just a few inches too high on the bed, bumping her head on the headboard, seeing stars if covering her eyes was any indication.
He cursed his cock. Told it to shut the hell up as it pounded behind the zipper of his pants.
What the fuck had he been thinking? He bolted out of bed, jostling her again.
“Sorry,” she muttered as she lay back on the pillows with her eyes closed, probably trying not to barf. She looked a bit green around the gills.
“Dammit, don’t apologize to me…sorry, and I’m yelling at you. Jesus, could I be any worse at this taking care of you shit?”
“You were doing extra great up until I got a bit…eager.”
“Here, take this,” came out of his mouth several seconds later as he shoved another pill in her hand with a glass of water from the kitchen.
She took it and handed the empty glass back to him. “There are two of you. That’s kind of scary. I’ve had ménage fantasies before but seriously…I don’t think I could handle two of you.”
“Jesus, stop talking about ménages. I’m so jacked up you could kick my ass with a paperclip right now. Our timing just sucks.” Within moments he was pulling her back into his arms and covering her with a blanket.
“Sleep, you need sleep, Angela. We’ve got time for the rest when you’re back on your feet.”
“Promise?” she asked when she started her slide into sleep with her pain pill kicking in.
Clay snorted an answer and then willed his hard-on to go away. He was really going to have to get a handle on his libido. Sure it had been several years since he had been with a woman and the woman he wanted was in his arms safe for the moment.
What in the world will tomorrow bring? he wondered as the sun peeked over the horizon and he finally drifted into sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
As the sun shined brightly in the bedroom, Angela was pretty sure she had never been so sore in all her life.
After trying to roll over twice to get more comfortable, she decided a trip to the bathroom was imminently necessary.
Clay was in front of her, beside the bed, before she could even groan from the effort.
“Well, I think I could get used to this,” she mumbled as Clay gently pulled her to a standing position as if she weighed nothing.
“If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times. I’m at least there to pick up the pieces when my clients get bombed. You know, you really messed up my perfect record last night,” he joked as he mostly carried her to the bathroom. He seemed different this morning. Lighter. It was really nice.
Hobbling was about all she was good for and his arms, strong and sure around her waist, made her heart go pitter-pat in her chest. He wouldn’t let her fall and her heart fluttered just a bit more at that realization.
“I’ll try to be more careful next time then. I’d hate to start a trend,” she chided back, liking the feel of being…friends with him.
Clay snickered despite the scowl pulling down his mouth. “Hey, I need to run out real quick, pick up a paper, coffee. Check things out. Think you can manage for a few minutes?” He made sure she could stand on her own and then got the water started, and laid a towel out of her.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Coffee sounds great and I’m just going to hop in the shower while you’re gone. Feel like I need to wash most of 5th Avenue out of my hair.”
He left her standing in the bathroom and as he closed the door, he said, “Okay, I’ll be gone for just a few minutes. If you need me for anything, I programmed my number into your phone. Take your time and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“’Kay,” she added as he latched the door behind him.
“What a predicament I now find myself in,” she stammered out as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Unwrapping all of the bandages from her arms was exhausting. Her arms and face looked raw and the knot on her head was going to make it hard to wash her hair, much less brush it afterwards.
She stripped down and got under the warm water. It stung her exposed cuts and scrapes, but it did something for her mentally. Washing away most of the panic and fear still lingering under her skin from the chaos of the day before was priceless. At least I am still here to hurt, she thought.
As gently as she could, she washed her body, shampooed her hair and then stood in the spray of the water for a few extra minutes. It felt nice, but after a little while she was afraid she was nodding off, so she shut off the water and patted herself dry with a towel.
Her hair was going to have to dry crinkly since blow-drying it sounded like the fifth circle of hell.
She went back in her bedroom, turned the TV on and wandered into the closet to grab clothes. A new pair of panties and a T-shirt she got as a gag gift from Jose years ago that said If you’re gonna ride my ass, at least pull my hair! were all she had on before she heard the announcer on the morning news.
“Here is some new footage from the bombing last night at The Plaza Hotel. Police are speculating that designer Angela Meyers was the target.”
Angela stared at the footage they showed. It was from one of the photographers there on scene. He must have been some kind of reporter and his footage was up close and terrifying.
She saw herself fly through the air and then the camera ducked down and all you could see was smoke and debris, and she could hear Clay yelling her name. It felt like she was choking on the smoke.
The cameraman recovered after a few seconds and scanned the terrified crowd, settling on Clay leaning over her.
They were talking about theories or something and they were interviewing the same reporter that had shot the footage, and all she could think was how scared Clay looked.
Her legs were shaky, so she more or less fell on the edge of the bed after turning off the TV.
“Angela, what’s taking you so long? You okay?” Clay asked as he walked into her room and knelt in front of her, placing a hand on her knee.
Her body sagged into his. “I was flying on the news,” was all she said before Clay surprised her by scooping her up into his arms and carrying her into the living room.
She didn’t even think to fight him.
It must be my muddy brain, she assured herself. It has nothing to do with his broad chest, or intoxicating smell, or the way he holds me so closely.
“I’m just a bit overwhelmed by everything, I think. It’s been a hard few days,” she admitted.
He placed her on the couch and said, “Well, today we are going to do nothing but veg out and watch old movies.”
“But I’m sure I’ve got to deal with the media and the rumors. All of my people have got to be freaking out, not to mention Mark and my parents.” She finally ran out of steam and just stared at her hands lying in her lap.
“Now that you got all that out of your system…” He handed her a steaming cup of coffee and the New York Times.
“Ah, sustenance,” she muttered before blowing on her hot brew and taking a tentative sip of heaven after placing the paper on the table. She didn’t think she could stand seeing herself again if she was anywhere close to the cover.
“I’ve already been on the phone with Mark, who is keeping your parents calm until you feel up to talking to everyone later.
“Your attorney, the police department, your publicity agent and several of your employees have called and I have informed them that you are understandably a bit under the weather at the moment and won’t be able to reach them for comments until tomorrow. You can thank me later,” he added with a smirk.
“It’s about lunchtime on Sunday and I’ve been up long enough to clear your schedule for the rest of the day. Also, before I forget, I talked to Detective Wyatt about some things last night before we came and met you at the hospital. There’s more to this than you know and he’ll be over later to hook up a wire tap again on your phone.”
Clay settled down next to her, nursing his own coffee.
She continued staring at him, wishing all the fuzziness would get out of her head.
Rubbing her eyes, she inquired, “What, there’s more than creepy phone calls, disconcerting letters and broken bones? Oh, and let’s not forget about last night’s bomb. Bomb,” she added with an unladylike snort.
“It wasn’t the first bomb, Angela.”
She separated her fingers and stared at Clay through them in disbelief. “Yes it was,” she stated emphatically. “I think I would have remembered being blown up before.”
“You weren’t there when the police found the first one. It was at JFK and you weren’t even there when they got the call. They said they checked the manifest and you had changed your schedule and left on an earlier flight. You were very lucky. That makes twice, but I don’t really want to give them a third shot. They got plenty close enough yesterday.”
“Wow,” was all she said after a few minutes. “Why didn’t they tell me any of this before?”
“They’ve decided to play it close to their chest against your dumbass psycho. If I was them, I would have done the exact same thing. You didn’t know anything about it so they decided to keep it that way. Right after that is when they just stopped. Who the hell knows why, but they’re back now and this time we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”
Clay kept silent and let the new reality of what she was…what they were dealing with sink in. He absentmindedly played with her hair. His fingertips pulled the wet strands slowly to the end. Angela licked her lips nervously, glancing at Clay out of the corner of her eyes.
Final Surrender: The Surrender Series, Book 1 Page 17