In Safe Arms

by Christine, Lee

She broke away and ran at him, covering the half dozen steps so quickly it seemed as if her feet barely touched the floor.

  He crushed her in his arms, rested his cheek against her hair and let his eyes drift closed. Her beautiful face had kept him going, her demand he come back for her birthday, spurring him on to make the 4:00 a.m. deadline.

  He only wished he was in better shape to greet her.

  They stayed like that for a long time, her clinging to him while he warmed her chilled body, comforting each other, welcoming each other.

  And when he looked up — Dickson had gone.

  Chapter 17

  Nate leaned his forehead against Josie’s and traced the pad of his thumb across her lips. ‘I would kiss you, but you can probably smell the beer and Absinthe. Let me go get cleaned up.’

  She raised a hand and trailed her fingertips along his stubbly jaw. ‘The cheap perfume’s the worst.’

  Anxious to reassure her, Nate captured her hand and kissed her fingers. She was so tender, so tentative the way she touched him. After the grubbiness of the hazing, her softness was mind blowing.

  ‘I escaped her clutches, princess.’

  ‘Not entirely.’ She pulled back and gave him a dubious look, gaze shifting to his neck. ‘There’s lipstick on your throat.’

  Nate laid his free hand over his heart. ‘She was a lap dancer, Josie. She was all over me when I was semi-conscious. I paid her to go — really.’

  He wasn’t the spill your guts type. It didn’t go with the job. But Josie would have concerns about a sex worker, any woman would. And he needed to explain. Hell, he wanted to share his tortuous night with her.

  ‘It was an initiation.’ He flexed his sore shoulder inside his jacket. ‘The good news is, I scored Grassy’s job, the bad news — I was expected to celebrate. There was booze, drugs and hookers. I sidestepped the drugs and the lap dancer.’

  Shit. It was a seedy world, and he wouldn’t blame her one bit if she decided she wanted nothing more to do with him.

  ‘What did they do to you?’ she asked eventually, checking him out with concerned eyes.

  ‘Plied me with alcohol mostly, but hey, it’d take a lot more than that to keep me away on your birthday.’

  He gathered her small frame closer, let his hands slide up and down her back. He desperately needed a toothbrush, and about half a bottle of mouthwash before he kissed her. But he couldn’t let her go, not yet.

  She shivered, sighed, and laid her head on his shoulder.

  Fire ripped through Nate’s veins as she relaxed against him, and he wished he could divest them of their clothing there and then. He wanted her — more than he could remember wanting any woman, but he had to take his cue from her, do only what she felt comfortable with. He was unsure of her experience, and to question her about it would be seriously uncool.

  Two years ago, she’d taken his blunt rejection well, and if anyone had overreacted and gone all awkward — it was him. If Josie rejected him now, he’d just have to cop it on the chin.

  Testing her a little, he ran his hands down her back and spread them across her shapely bottom, cupping both cheeks and urging her closer. When she murmured, he pressed his hips against hers, moulding their lower bodies together so she could feel his arousal, feel how much he wanted her.

  He leaned back and watched for her reaction.

  Her eyes widened, and then she grinned, gave him a tentative press back. ‘Judging by that, detective, the liquor hasn’t affected you.’

  A groan escaped his throat and he hardened even more, her simple move more arousing than the lap dancer’s practised choreography. This was honest, forthright Josie, her judgment unimpaired by sugary alcopops, a woman who knew what she wanted.

  And she wanted him.

  Body wired with desire, Nate buried his nose in her hair, inhaling frangipani and almond oil. ‘I know the timing sucks, but would you run the shower for me, while I have a quick word with Dickson?’

  She reached up and cradled his face between her hands for a moment, then tenderly brushed his hair back from his forehead. ‘I have a better idea. Why don’t I join you?’

  Hoping Nate would appreciate a soak in the bath more than a shower, Josie sat on the edge of the tub and watched it fill with warm water. She inhaled the fragrant bath oil she’d found in a drawer next to a box of tea lights and matches, and tried not to speculate about whom Nate had last taken a bath with.

  She leaned over and poured some oil into the water.

  She was here now — and he wanted her.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Screwing the lid back on the bottle, she hummed along to Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” and began lighting the tea lanterns. One by one, she placed them inside the vases standing on the vanity, then switched off the overhead light.

  In a bathroom full of mirrors, the effect was stunning. Open flames flickered and danced, creating shapes on the ceiling and leaving the room shadowed in an intimate half light.

  Studying her reflection in the mirror, she turned slowly, observing herself from every angle. Her hair sparkled with highlights, and despite the redness of her jaw courtesy of Barry Simpson, her face had a healthy glow, eyes shining with an excited anticipation.

  But the pyjamas were hideously wrong.

  Slowly, and with fingers that trembled a little, she unbuttoned her top, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. Then with one quick tug on the tie and a wriggle of her hips, she stepped out of her pyjama pants.

  She splayed a hand across her tummy in an effort to still the butterflies, and tried to see herself through Nate’s eyes. Breasts full and heavy for her slight frame, her nipples were large and pink, her waist narrow, still blemished with yellow bruising from her fall across the handbrake.

  She turned her back and gazed over her shoulder, gathering her hair up into a ponytail. Twisting it around her hand, she followed the line of her neck, the curve of her back, the outline of her spine as it dipped towards her generous bootie.

  Oh gees.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around her, securing it under her arm and leaving her shoulders bare.

  What did her predecessors look like?

  Were they elegant?

  Willowy?

  Tall, like Nate?

  She unstrapped her watch and laid it on the vanity, anxiousness cramping her stomach.

  Fifteen minutes gone.

  What could be keeping him?

  Biting back her impatience, she clasped the towel to her chest and turned off the taps. The bathroom went silent, save for the hypnotic plip plop of water dripping from the stylish tap.

  Come on, Jos, you know he likes you. Best foot forward.

  She was unfastening her earrings when a light tap came at the door.

  She turned, heart refusing to behave.

  ‘Come in.’

  And then the door swung open, and the man she’d been waiting for stood silhouetted in the doorway.

  Nate locked the door, heart cranking up at the vision that greeted him. Wrapped in a white towel, Josie was perched on the side of the bath, backlit by candlelight, golden hair framing her face.

  She rose as he came closer, an uncertain expression in her eyes. ‘I thought you might enjoy a bath. It seems a shame not to make use of it.’

  Heat infused Nate’s body at the visual of him and Josie sharing the tub, his primitive side eager to get there right away, his civilised side warning him to take it slow.

  And more annoying, his common sense, reminding him of the perils of submerging a newly inked tattoo.

  Gees, the last thing he wanted was to bring that up at a time like this.

  He smiled and stepped closer, slipped one hand around her nape and kissed the fragrant softness of her neck. ‘You’re stunning in a towel.’

  She shivered, gave a little gasp and tipped her head to the side. ‘They’re a wardrobe staple now, since you threw one over me in the car.’

  �
�You had too many clothes on then. This is much better.’ Nate pressed soft kisses to her reddened jaw, shutting out the image of Barry Simpson striking her. There was no room for fury in his veins right now.

  ‘You handcuffed me as well,’ she said.

  Amused she’d broached the subject of the zip ties, Nate kissed his way down the creamy column of her throat, getting high on the intravenous drug that was Josie. Was his princess really that adventurous?

  Careful to keep a teasing note in his voice, he spoke against her ear. ‘I can do it again if you like, though a fluffy pair would be kinder on your wrists.’

  The thought of Nate restraining her with fluffy handcuffs sent a bolt of desire straight to Josie’s groin, mind filling with images of them shopping together at the Tool Shed, or one of the other trendy looking adult shops along Oxford Street.

  ‘Not yet, detective.’ She tightened her grip on his shoulders. ‘Not when I’ve just got my hands on your body.’

  He straightened and gathered her closer, moulding her curves to his hardness until she wanted to crawl inside his skin.

  ‘Umm. You smell of toothpaste and mouthwash.’

  ‘I slipped into the ensuite, so I could do this.’ He captured her lips, stealing her breath and making her head spin. Like a wine taster savouring a full-bodied Shiraz, he sampled her mouth, licking, nipping at her plump lower lip then gently sucking on the same spot.

  Josie’s body moved into overdrive, desire surging through the circuit board of her heart. Spearing a hand into his dark hair, she let the silky strands slip through her fingers, tasting him, as he was tasting her.

  He deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. She moaned, a sweet ache between her legs. And then the towel went south, and she was naked in his arms.

  Nate groaned and broke the kiss, eyes locking with hers as he raised a hand and cupped the fullness of her breast. A wave of longing washed over Josie, and she pressed her hips up to his, saw his nostrils flare at her panting response.

  ‘Nate — please.’ She closed her eyes for a beat as he teased both nipples into hard little pebbles. ‘Take your clothes off.’

  Warding off the spinning feeling, she reached for his belt buckle as he continued to rain kisses over her face. He shrugged out of his jacket and she pulled his belt free of the loops. The tee-shirt was next, and then they melded together, skin to skin, breasts crushed against his solid chest, firm lips nuzzling her neck.

  ‘You shaved,’ she gasped as he moved lower and kissed the top of her breasts.

  ‘You don’t want gravel rash all over you.’

  All over?

  Desperate to get him naked, Josie reached down and unzipped his fly, heard the air hiss between his teeth.

  ‘Smooth move, princess.’ He ran his tongue around her nipple, then licked it into a taut little peak.

  Josie moaned and arched closer. ‘Why are you still wearing pants?’

  ‘Shhh…’ He straightened and silenced her with a kiss, laugh a low rumble in his throat. ‘Dickson will be all ears.’

  ‘Screw Dickson.’

  He set her aside, chest rising and falling as he leaned down and pulled off his boots. It was then she noticed the square piece of gauze on his triceps. She frowned, positive it hadn’t been there when he’d taken a shower the other night.

  ‘What happened to your arm?’

  Nate stilled. Josie was staring at the gauze patch, a puzzled expression on her face.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back the dressing, watched the blood drain from her face at the Altar Boys crest inked into his arm. It looked nasty, inflamed and covered in dried blood where he’d inflicted pain on himself.

  She turned shocked eyes on him, and suddenly he wished he’d been more up front before letting things go this far.

  ‘They marked you.’ Her lips trembled as she leaned closer and studied it in more detail. ‘Tell me they used a sterilised needle on that.’

  He nodded, touched by her gentle concern. ‘One thing about the Altar Boys, they have the best tattoo artist in Sydney. I wasn’t conscious at the time, but he was there, and I know he did it.’

  She breathed a sigh of relief, even as she cast a disappointed look toward the roman bath. ‘We can’t do this. A girlfriend of mine had a flower done on her ankle. She could have a shower, but no bath.’

  And then she reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘You should have told me, Nate.’

  Nate captured her hand and kissed her palm. ‘And turn down the offer of a lifetime? I’m not that crazy.’

  The corners of her mouth curved, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  He slipped his arm around her waist. ‘Hey, I’m tall enough to keep my shoulder out of the water.’

  She didn’t look convinced. ‘Is it very painful?’

  He shook his head, and hoped his next words might make up for two years ago. ‘Compared to the pain I’ll be in if you turn me down — zero.’

  She smiled again, and this time a light shone in her eyes. ‘That’s blackmail, detective.’

  Desperate to reassure her, he rubbed his hand up and down her back. ‘If it makes you feel better, we’ll clean it up and apply a fresh dressing. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She flashed him a dubious look. ‘You should take some paracetamol.’

  ‘I’ll walk over hot coals if I have to.’ He rested his forehead against hers. ‘Please, princess. I want to do this with you. I promise I’ll be careful.’

  She kissed him then, moving her lips softly over his, though she kept her arms by her sides, as if fearful she might touch the wound. When she pulled away, the telltale glisten in her eyes slugged him right in the guts.

  ‘Josie, don’t be upset. When this is all over I’ll get it removed.’

  ‘No!’ Her eyes blazed as she glared at the tattoo. ‘You’ve earned that, probably more than most of the members of that outlaw motorcycle gang. It’s like — it’s like a battle scar.’

  Josie’s strength and determination humbled Nate, her words cutting straight to his heart. She’d witnessed a murder, been run off the road and forced into protective custody, and he knew she was worried about her parents and other people dear to her. And despite Dickson holding her at gunpoint, and Simpson physically attacking her, somehow, she’d managed to find space in her heart for him.

  He slipped his fingers under her hair and stroked the pad of his thumb across her cheek. She was worrying about him, and he had to do something to put things right.

  ‘Stay here, princess. I’ll go get the first aid kit.’

  Fifteen minutes later, after cleaning and bathing the tattoo with antiseptic wash, Josie dabbed it dry and fixed a new adhesive square to Nate’s shoulder. Then, she took a long piece of cling wrap and wound it around his arm from shoulder to elbow.

  ‘There,’ she said, standing back and assessing her handiwork. ‘I’ve waterproofed it as best I can, but don’t submerge it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He swooped in and kissed her on the lips. ‘Do you have any idea of the self-control I needed to exercise then, with you leaning all over me like that?’

  Before she had a chance to reply, he whipped off the towel she’d reinstated when he’d gone out of the room.

  ‘Nate!’ She strived for indignation, though her protest failed in light of his delighted expression, and she couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘You’re always doing something for me in here.’ Nate leaned over the bath and turned off the hot water tap where they’d been topping up the bathwater. ‘You’ve cut my hair, cleaned my wound…’

  Before she could guess his intention, he wheeled around and grabbed her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her high in the air. She squealed, threw her arms around his neck, warm, curly chest hair a delicious friction against her breasts.

  ‘It’s my turn to do something for you.’ He lowered her into the hot, fragrant water, biceps bulging as he let her find her footing. Heart pounding with excitement, Josie sank into the soothing wat
er, eyes locked on Nate as he rid himself of his swimming trunks and joined her.

  ‘Come here.’ His good arm came around her waist, and he tugged her into his lap, injured arm stretched out along the back of the bath.

  She sat with her back against his chest, skin turning to goose flesh as he massaged her neck with his free hand. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades.

  She shivered despite the warmth, blood pressure spiking so high she feared she might have her own private heart attack. His hard length was pressed against her thigh, longer than she imagined, thicker than she imagined, and definitely ready.

  ‘Slide down a little, and lay back against me,’ he murmured, reaching around and fondling her breasts, which looked like two white orbs floating in the water. ‘Rest your head on my shoulder.’

  Josie did as he asked, body a mass of sensation as he stretched out beneath her and hooked one long leg around her ankle. Keeping her in place, he slipped his hand between her thighs.

  Josie sucked in a harsh breath, tensing as he touched the most intimate part of her. ‘It’s okay,’ he murmured, soothing her. ‘I won’t do anything you don’t like.’

  Josie reclined against him, blinked once as the room tilted, Nate’s touch so exquisitely gentle she feared she couldn’t stand it. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, heard his murmur of approval, felt the brush of his lips against her temple.

  Her breathing slowed, deepened, as she gave herself up to his practised touch. With great care, he lit the flame within, stoking it into a fire until her legs grew restless and she rotated her hips, craving a greater friction on the cluster of nerve endings at her core.

  Head lounging on his shoulder, she gripped his thighs, heard him growl low in his throat as she arched her back. He hardened beneath her, used his injured arm for the first time to turn her face towards him and capture her mouth.

  She moaned as his tongue licked over her lips, an ache between her thighs where he continued to rhythmically stroke her.

  Heat surrounded her.

  Fragrant water.

  The steamed filled room.

  The flickering candlelight.