In Walked Trouble (Under Covers)

by Christina Elle

  He was sick and tired of feeling alone all the time. He was sick of empty sex. Sick of a quick fix to get him going, and then emptiness.

  He wanted more. If he could get this shit with Serrano sorted out quickly, end the threat on his life, then he and Cass would have a fighting chance. So whatever it was going to take to end this mission, Luke was ready.

  Entering his room, he found Cass sprawled across the bed, facedown, her head and feet hanging over the sides, snoring.

  Crossing his arms, he stood there a minute and took in the sight. That quick his temper subsided and he almost laughed.

  Luke approached the bed and leaned over her to slide his arms under her shoulders, trying to twist her toward the pillows, but she grunted and resisted. She tipped forward, making most of her weight shift toward her head, causing her to skim down the other side of the bed. Luke grabbed her hips before her head landed on the floor and pulled her back up. She swung a straight arm back, landing a sharp blow across his cheek.

  “Goddamn it.” He bit back the sting and planted a knee between her legs, giving her hips a swift tug. She chose that moment to roll over with flailing arms and legs. Her parts tangled with his, knocking him over, making him face-plant into her breasts. She mumbled something in her sleep and swatted at his face. His ears rung from the impact, so he shook his head to clear it. Cussed a few more times. Then rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

  She continued to snore, but it was softer now. More deep breathing with a tiny snarl. It was cute. Sort of.

  Bending an elbow, he propped an arm behind his head, closed his eyes and thought about what it would be like to have Cass to come home to every night. Someone who would lose her mind if anything happened to him. Someone constant. His.

  An arm flopped across his stomach, making him suck in a sharp breath. Her head lulled onto his shoulder and a knee hitched across his lap. She snuggled in like she belonged there, fitting his body perfectly. Her head nuzzled into his shoulder and her warm breath tickled his ear as she relaxed against him.

  He draped an arm around her and pulled her closer, savoring the moment. It hadn’t escaped his attention that he was acting like a total sap. Cuddling? Since when did Luke Calder cuddle with a woman? Especially one he hadn’t had sex with.

  Whatever. It felt right to have her body pressed against his. Plus, she could use someone to just hold her, and he could use someone to hold.

  The arm across his stomach tightened as she suctioned herself even closer to him. Not sure he could have managed to slide a piece of paper between them, and he was okay with that. Luke squeezed her a little tighter, loving the feel of her there. He placed a kiss on her forehead, and he closed his eyes, just as she let out a loud buzz-saw snore.

  …

  Death. That’s what this must be. If not, Cass couldn’t conjure anything else that would make her feel the way she did right now. Every limb hurt, her throat was dry, and her head ached as if she’d split it with an ax. She hadn’t felt this bad since… God, since senior year of college when she and her roommates had gone on that booze cruise in Cancun. The human body was not meant to ingest that much tequila in such a short amount of time.

  Apparently the same was true for Estelle’s Wild Turkey.

  A hot, heavy blanket covered her from the neck down. And it breathed deeply into her ear.

  Cass peeled one eye open.

  The room was dim, thankfully the curtains had been pulled closed. What day was it? Where the hell was she?

  The deep grumbling next to her answered the second question. The heat of Luke’s body plastered against her front made her suck in a breath to gain some sanity. He mumbled something about “too early” and “don’t get dressed yet.”

  She dropped her gaze to her body. Still in the clothes she’d worn the night before, thank goodness.

  Slowly, as not to disturb him, she slinked out of bed to the bathroom. Cass splashed cool water over her face, then cupped the water in her hand to rinse her mouth from the crud of the night before. Once finished, she reentered the bedroom to find Luke in the same position she’d left him. He’d stopped mumbling, but his mouth was slightly ajar. He lay on his side, facing where Cass had just been, his chest moving with strong, deep breaths. Long eyelashes fanned his cheeks. And the hint of soft blond stubble sprinkled his jaw and chin.

  Her gaze roamed over his tall frame, starting at his broad shoulders. He’d removed his long-sleeved shirt from the night before, leaving just a simple white T-shirt. His biceps, though not flexed, were round and defined. His body was tight and firm. He either lucked out in the gene pool or he worked out regularly. She trailed her attention down to his trim waist, where she already knew a rock-hard stomach waited. Long, jeans-covered legs stretched out and ended with bare feet.

  All man. He could capture the attention in a room with one look. He—

  “If you’re done objectifying me like a piece of meat, we can get up whenever you’re ready.”

  At the gruff, sleep-induced sound of his voice, she jumped. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah, I’m awake.” He lifted his head to peer at her through drowsy eyes. “And I feel totally violated right now.”

  Her face heated like the fires of hell and she looked away.

  The bed shifted, causing her to sneak a glance his way.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the edge. “No worries though. I liked it. Anytime you want to do it again, just let me know. I’m here for your gawking pleasure.”

  When she looked back at him and released a shocked laugh, he said, “Or any other pleasure for that matter.”

  Oh boy.

  A wave of warmth rolled across her lower stomach. She had to clasp her hands in front of her to keep it from spilling over and making her do something incredibly stupid. Like throwing him on the bed and riding out the wave until it crashed and left her weightless. This was getting ridiculous. She felt like she might explode if they didn’t just sate this need they both craved.

  He cocked his head and kicked up one side of his lips. “I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now.”

  “N-nothing.” She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Nothing. Just ready to eat.” It was the partial truth. Satisfying some kind of hunger had crossed her mind.

  With a knowing grin, he stood. One arm stretched over his head and his back bowed. The T-shirt lifted from his waist, and yep, there were those defined abs she remembered.

  She licked her lips. Her fingers tingled to rake over the firm surface and dip into the peaks and valleys.

  When she brought her gaze up and met his, he was smirking. “Care to share that thought?” He crossed his arms with eager eyes. “Seriously. I’m all ears.”

  When she didn’t respond, since her brain seemed to be temporarily out of commission, he reached toward his back, and pulled his shirt over his head. Balling it up, he tossed it in the corner.

  “I’m gonna grab a quick shower, then I’ll be up.” His expression changed, morphing into something secret and tempting. “That’s an open invitation if you need a shower, too, Cass.”

  At his teasing tone and sexy tilt of his lips, she started to picture what that would be like. What his body covering hers would feel like.

  She walked toward him, letting her features project the insane lust and frustration coursing through her. Flicking her gaze up to his, she dipped a finger inside his waistband and tugged him to her. His eyes blazed as he went from playful to pure hunter in half a second. Their bodies touched from the waist down and it still wasn’t close enough.

  “Cass,” he warned. “Don’t start if you aren’t ready for me to finish it. ’Cause once I get started…”

  “What if I do?” she asked, heart pounding enough to rattle her rib cage. “What if I want you to finish it?”

  Maybe they could lock the door leading to the basement. Tie a ribbon or handkerchief on the doorknob. Throw a couch or chair in front of the stairs. Anything for a few minutes o
f privacy.

  He watched her through lowered eyelids. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Reaching around, she cupped his ass. “I’m saying that if you don’t get me off soon, I’m going to combust.”

  His mouth dipped to her throat, his breath scorching her delicate skin. “Oh, you’re definitely going to combust. And scream, moan, and say my name at least twice.”

  A swarm of heat rolled through her, making her clench her thighs together. She was betting she’d say his name a hell of a lot more than twice.

  At the spot under her ear, he inhaled. “Wow.”

  She rubbed herself against his growing erection. “I know. You smell amazing, too. Soooo freaking good.”

  “No,” he said, not reciprocating her grinding motion. In fact, he gripped her hips and stepped back. “I mean, wow. You smell like an old drunk guy who smokes two packs a day.”

  She paused. Shit. What was she doing? She probably looked like death, too. Damn Estelle and her Wild Turkey.

  He must have seen her expression, because he looked at her like she’d lost her mind. He stepped forward and gave one swift pump of his hips against her heat. “You know what. I don’t give a shit right now. I want you. Any way I can get you.”

  He flicked the button open on his jeans and held her gaze as he reached for the pull of his zipper. “Last chance to speak up.”

  She wasn’t going to stop him. “Open your pants right now.”

  His eyes ignited and a cocky smirk crossed his lips as he started to lower his zipper.

  Mother Mary and all that was holy, his zipper was down.

  Annnnd, there wasn’t anything underneath. Nothing but smooth flesh and a trail of hair that led to…

  Oh, dear Lord. The man wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  When that thought registered, her feet dug into the carpet like needy little mongrels who haven’t been laid in months. Which was true.

  “Your turn,” he said, his attention dropping to her pants.

  She sent him her best sultry look as she popped the button on her own jeans. Unlike Luke, she wore underwear. Full coverage and nude colored if she remembered correctly, damn it.

  Heat exploded from her neck and flushed all the way up to the top of her head.

  No. Who cares. He doesn’t. You reek like a distillery and he’s still ready to rock your world. Don’t make it a thing. Just strip down.

  Thumbs hooked in her waistband, she inched her jeans down.

  Her pants had just slipped over her butt as multiple footsteps sounded overhead and then the basement door clicked opened.

  “Breakfast is ready!” Maybel called down.

  Cass squealed, yanking her pants back up and buttoning them with lightning speed. There’s no way they’d be able to do this here. Even if she wanted to.

  And she really wanted to.

  She should get going.

  Yes, going.

  Or coming?

  Coming?

  She sighed. God, she’d like to be coming.

  No. Going. Definitely going.

  Luke wore another expression like she’d lost her mind, but this time it was probably justified.

  “I, uh…” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m comi—going.”

  She spun on her heel so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. Her body flung dirty obscenities at her with each step toward the door.

  “I can’t wait ’til this damn snowstorm is over,” Luke grumbled behind her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Remind him again why he’d agreed to this.

  Luke gripped the wall on the perimeter of the ice rink at Rash Field, focusing on nothing but keeping his feet under him.

  Giant mounds of snow lay around the rink, no longer pristine white. Cars drove up and down the adjacent road, spattering the piles with mud and dirt.

  It was an unusually clear, sunny, albeit chilly day, and since everyone had gone stir-crazy because of the storm, they couldn’t wait to get out and do something. Anything. So when Cass suggested ice-skating, he’d agreed without really thinking it through.

  This wasn’t on his top fifty things he’d like to do ever.

  First, because he couldn’t skate. He’d tried before. The neurons in his brain didn’t fire like they should once those paper-thin blades were on his feet. Second, because there were about forty-nine other things he’d rather be doing, all of them involving him and Cass horizontal, vertical, and kneeling. But the excited look on her face when he’d agreed to come had pretty much sealed his fate. He’d do just about anything to see that look again.

  It drove him crazy. This constant need tugging at him. Luke Calder didn’t need anyone. But the more time he spent with Cass, the more he told himself he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without her. It appeared that he did need her. And not in the I’m-bored-so-let’s-hang-out sort of way, but in the where-have-you-been-all-my-life persuasion.

  And that scared the living hell out of him.

  Losing people was kind of his specialty, so he’d spent a majority of his life trying not to get attached. But damn if he could talk his brain or his heart out of it with Cass.

  The woman in question whizzed by him for a third time like Kristi Yamaguchi going for the gold, shouting things like, “Come on! It’s fun!” She swayed right and then left, dodging a dad and his son who both skated on unsteady legs.

  Luke snorted and hugged the wall tighter. Fun. Right. Fun was beers at a ballpark or volleyball on the beach. Not a broken ass and hours in the emergency room.

  Kids laughter and the bustle of the city surrounded him. The smell of roasted peanuts and hot chocolate drifted on the brisk breeze, making his stomach rumble. It’d be really stellar if he could maneuver in the direction of the snack vendor without risking his life in the process.

  Luke slinked along the wall toward the exit, shuffling his feet only a few inches at a time. His hands ached from holding on so tightly, but he wouldn’t dare let go. His ass depended on him.

  A laugh echoed in his ear, then Tyke’s voice teased over the COMs. “Told you to take a few shots of whiskey before coming, you dumb-ass. Woulda loosened you up a bit. You’d be sailing across that ice right now.”

  Ah, yes. The Three Stooges. His life was still on the line, so how could he forget that they were here to witness his humiliation, too? Such a perfect afternoon this was.

  Rolling his eyes, Luke continued to shimmy along the wall.

  Out of the team’s usual norm, Tyke was in the surveillance van, Ash was seated on a park bench on the perimeter of the rink, and Reese was on the ice. The guy was surprisingly proficient, twirling and swirling around as if he’d spent all his free time skating. Knowing Reese, he probably did. He kept to himself and rarely talked with the rest of the team about what he did on his time off. The way he handled himself right now, Luke half expected him to break out a double axel, sow cow twist thing. It was impressive.

  A swish rolled up behind him, then a shush as a blast of coldness hit his legs. His foot slipped and knees started to buckle, so he threw an arm over the wall, straining to hold himself up. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

  Grinning, Cassandra surveyed Luke’s predicament. She held her arms out like she wanted a giant hug. “Come on. You can’t hold that wall up all day.”

  He glared at her. “Try me.”

  She laughed and glided up next to him, sliding an arm around his waist. His fingers were practically frozen, so he barely felt her pry them off his salvation. Throwing his free arm around her neck, she forced him to stand at full height. He still had a strong clamp on the wall with his other hand; she was out of her damn mind if she thought he was letting go completely.

  “Trust me,” she said.

  Trust her? The words sent a shock of anxiety ripping through his chest. He only trusted a handful of people in the entire world, and it was mostly because they carried big guns. Swallowing hard, he met her firm gaze.

  “I’ve got you. I won
’t let you fall. Promise.”

  Yeah, but what about her? He could take them both down. They’d have a pair of broken asses. Hers would be a real shame to mess up. Nah, he wasn’t taking her down with him.

  He started to lift his arm from around her and turn away—

  “Hey,” she said, placing a hand against his chest, making him pause.

  There in her gaze was absolute confidence. She believed he could do it. Like it was that easy. And if he couldn’t pull it off, she was assuring him that she’d be there to hold him up. It was a terrifying feeling. Being that reliant on another person. But if he was going to do it—or at least give it a try—he wanted it to be with Cassandra.

  So he let go of the wall.

  And lost his footing, slipping out of her arms, and dropping onto the ice like a tank. She reached for him, even yelped, but he was already on the ground, scrambling to get up. It was like a cat who’d just been tossed into a full bathtub. (Ever seen it? YouTube it.) It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  The boisterous laughs in his earpiece didn’t help, either.

  Bending, Cassandra jerked on his arm to hoist him up. But her effort, plus his struggle, equaled nothing but disaster. Her legs went out from under her and, with a squeal, she dropped onto her ass beside him. Both of their legs spread wide. She sent a befuddled look his way before her expression cracked a smile.

  “Let’s take a break, shall we?” she asked.

  Thank Christ.

  She got up first and held out a hand.

  He glanced at it and chose to roll onto his knees instead. The guys were going to fucking love watching this. Biting back his pride, he shuffled doggie style toward the exit.

  “What the—?” Tyke started.

  More barks of laughter filled his ears.

  “Well, this is a first, Calder,” Ash said next.

  Grumbling, he kept going. His knees ached, his ass was sore, and he was hungry. He couldn’t do a damn thing about any of those things while he was slipping and sliding on the ice. Making it to the doorway, he got to his feet enough to propel himself through the opening. Once on firm ground, he hobbled to a bench and dropped onto it, reaching for the skates. He yanked them off and had his boots on in seconds.