Bare It All

by Lori Foster

  But now, with Reese, she felt like she could actually deal with the past, possibly bury it once and for all, and make a difference in the future.

  She smiled at him.

  He didn’t smile back. The seconds passed in silence.

  Pivoting away from her, Reese pulled out his cell phone.

  A little deflated by that reaction, Alice waited as he punched in a single speed-dial number. She was somewhat curious who he’d call right now, but more wary than anything else.

  “Logan?” Reese stared at her while he spoke into the phone. “I’ve got a problem.” His jaw ticked when he nodded. “Yes, Alice.”

  Frowning, Alice straightened in her seat. So, now she was a problem? She had rescued a woman. Why couldn’t he see past everything else to what good had been done?

  Reese held her gaze. “We need to bring her in for questioning.” He nodded. “I know.”

  For questioning? To a police station? Oh, but...

  “Peterson should be there.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Rowdy, too. Yeah, he stepped in it while chasing after her. I can explain everything in more detail tomorrow. No, I won’t.” His attention all but pinned her in place. “She won’t be out of my sight.”

  So...did that mean he’d be spending the night with her again? Given his current mood, he might want to sleep on the couch. She hoped not. She wanted him back in her bed.

  She wanted him again—period.

  * * *

  “ONE LAST THING.” Reese walked over to her, put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “We have a vigilante running around.”

  Uh-oh. Alice tried to shake her head, to caution him against sharing that, but Reese held her chin.

  “He carries a lot of clout, had cooperation from the law and apparently he’s good enough to kill Alice’s kidnapper without anyone knowing who he is.”

  Oh, no. Alice’s heart sank. She couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let someone else take the blame for what had occurred that day.

  Her rescuer hadn’t killed her kidnapper.

  Alice had taken care of that herself.

  * * *

  THE ROCK-SOLID FIST struck him in the gut, knocking him back into the wall where his head smacked hard. Stars danced behind his eyes, and his guts ached. He thought he might puke.

  But Hickson took the punishing blow without fighting back. What other choice did he have?

  “One girl dead, and now another on the loose.” The icy gaze drilled into him, driven by disgust and rage. “I should fucking kill you.”

  Shaking his head, as much to clear it as to offer a denial, Hickson said, “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “Not your fault? You let a woman best you? You let her shackle you to a wall?”

  When Woody Simpson, the boss, got in these moods, there was no reasoning with him. But he had to try, anyway. “I didn’t mean for Marcia to die. She flipped out after getting the tat, screaming bloody murder. I only hit her once to shut her up.”

  “You hit her hard enough for her to fall and crack her skull on the concrete.”

  “Well...yeah.” It’d been plain dumb luck that she’d crumpled like that. In hindsight, he knew he should have just muffled her and waited until he had her in the motel, on the mattress, to smack her around.

  Woody backhanded him this time, but with the brass knuckles in place, it hurt the same as a punch. He tasted blood.

  Phelps and Lowry snickered, the bastards. They’d been riding his ass ever since they found him bound in the room. “That other bitch had a Taser, and she damn near killed me with it.”

  Woody laughed without humor. “Why didn’t you disarm her first thing?”

  “I didn’t know she was like that! She looked like a mouse. Like a schoolteacher or a librarian. Said she was lost and just needed to use my phone.”

  “You’re a fucking idiot, Hickson. You know that, right?”

  He rubbed his goatee and swallowed his pride. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I want you to find her.”

  “Cheryl, or...the bitch that jolted me?”

  “Yes.”

  Hickson shook his head again, this time bewildered. “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know her name. She could be anyone.”

  “You said she helped Cheryl? That was all about doing a good deed for the twit?”

  “Yeah.” Hickson brightened as he remembered. “Yeah, she got riled up when Cheryl cried.”

  “So, go to Cheryl.”

  Hickson went blank.

  Rolling his eyes, Woody strode to his desk. “Cheryl probably went running home to Mommy and Daddy. I have her address. Get her alone, and get her to talk. She probably knows the woman, or at least knows a way to get in touch with her again.”

  “If she doesn’t?”

  “Find out what you can.” Woody handed over a slip of paper with an address on it. “Cheryl should at least know the make of her car, if nothing else. You better hope it’s enough for me to extinguish this problem, and fast. Because if it’s not, if that woman causes me any more trouble, you’ll be the one to pay.”

  Straightening away from the wall, Hickson accepted the address. He had a reprieve, and he wouldn’t blow it. “When I find her, what do you want me to do with her?”

  Woody sat back in his desk chair and smiled. “Bring her to me.”

  * * *

  REESE REMAINED IN an odd, antagonistic mood. Alice thought it might be from worry, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

  She wasn’t a woman who could ignore the pain of others. Never again.

  While Reese spent an inordinate amount of time outside with Cash, she’d emailed her family, sending them her love and apologizing for being so distant. She told them she now realized her mistake withdrawing, and promised to visit very soon.

  Every so often, she’d peeked out at Reese, but no one bothered him. He sat in the grass, tossing sticks for Cash, playing with the dog, even wrestling with him a little.

  Seeing him like that put a lump in her throat and a smile on her face. He was such an amazing man, so caring, so decent—the antithesis of the monsters who had used Cheryl.

  When he finally came in, she was ready for bed.

  He went into the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth, then into the bedroom. Uncertain, Alice trailed after him, watched him take off a shirt, strip off his slacks. Wearing only those dark sexy boxers, he turned to her.

  With iron will, she forced her attention to stay on his face. “Will you stay here with me tonight?”

  His brow went up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I mean here.” She gestured awkwardly at the bed. “In the bedroom, in bed with me, instead of the couch.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.” She nodded hard. “Very much.”

  On his way to the bed, he said, “I appreciate that you’re always honest with me, Alice.”

  A gibe? Because, seriously, he knew she wasn’t always, entirely honest.

  Now, as midnight came and went, Alice knew she couldn’t sleep. Not like this.

  Not with Reese still irate.

  His body remained tensed, his arms behind his head instead of around her.

  Her awareness of him was so keen that she felt the lack of his affection like a douse of ice water.

  So unfair.

  At the foot of the bed, Cash snored, every so often running in his sleep. The dog jerked again, and Reese
moved his foot against him, saying, “Shhh...”

  Cash settled.

  Alice glanced toward Reese, but in the darkness she couldn’t see much more than his outline. It was torture, being with him like this, but with invisible barriers keeping them apart.

  An accusation escaped her before she could think better of it. “If you didn’t want to get busy, you shouldn’t have stripped down.”

  A moment of stillness nearly smothered her, then slowly, oh, so slowly, Reese turned his head toward her. She prepared herself for his annoyance, more of his anger.

  He said, “Get busy?”

  “That’s what Rowdy calls it.”

  She heard a sound—maybe of his teeth sawing together.

  “Rowdy is very informative,” she told him.

  The bed dipped as Reese came up to an elbow. “I wish you’d stop talking about Rowdy.”

  But Rowdy had given her so much hope. He’d said all it would take was Reese seeing her naked, and he’d be ready and willing.

  Instead, she saw him in nothing more than boxers, and she was the one who wanted to die of lust.

  “He’s been helpful.” So helpful, in fact, maybe she should try out one of his suggestions.

  Reese dropped flat in the bed again.

  Enough already. Determination got Alice’s feet to the floor in seconds. She found the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on.

  Momentarily blinded, she shielded her eyes.

  Reese did the same. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m testing Rowdy’s theory.”

  Up on one elbow again, he frowned. “What theory?”

  Cash gave them both a sleepy look and bounded down off the bed. He went over to the closet, dropped down with a huff and curled up to sleep with his nose close to his rump.

  Working up her courage, Alice looked back at Reese. “This theory.” She reached beneath her gown and took off her panties, then made a show of tossing them aside.

  Going utterly still, Reese said nothing. His gaze burned over her, hot, expectant, before settling on her face.

  He waited.

  Alice drew a fortifying breath, thought of the rewards of brazenness and peeled the nightgown up and over her head. The cool wash of the air-conditioning tightened her nipples.

  Reese wasn’t shading his eyes anymore, and he no longer looked angry.

  Buoyed by his rapt attention, she straightened in front of him, naked head to toe.

  Reese’s chest expanded. His biceps bunched.

  Alice chewed her bottom lip. Interest definitely sharpened his demeanor, but Rowdy had led her to believe he’d react differently. More...physically.

  Had she expected him to jump her?

  Yes, she’d been hopeful.

  Shaking her hair back over her shoulders and lifting her chin, she tried staring him down. “Say something.”

  Reese lifted an eyebrow over the order. He did a slow visual examination, pausing to scrutinize her breasts, her belly.

  Between her thighs.

  “How did you scrape your knee?”

  Disappointed that he hadn’t made a move yet, she shrugged and said, “I think it happened when I knelt down to cut the air valves off Hickson’s tires.”

  His gaze hardened. “I hope like hell no one will be able to track you down from that stunt.”

  His concern made her feel guilty. “No one is after me, Reese. I promise, I’m fine.”

  He looked over the length of her legs. “Yes, you are.”

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he tossed back the sheet and got out of bed.

  A very noticeable erection strained his snug boxers. Alice braced herself, excitement unfurling...but instead of coming to her, he went to the door.

  Watching Reese leave the room, Alice felt wretched, dejected, exposed... Until he returned with something in his hand. “Cash, you want a treat?”

  The dog had been ignoring them, but at Reese’s offer, he rolled to his feet with a lurch.

  When Reese led Cash out of the room, Alice hurriedly got in the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Insane, but now she felt shy. Who knew seducing a man was so nerve-racking?

  Reese walked back in, stalled when he saw her bundled in the middle of the mattress, but then continued on to the bed. He sat down beside her. “Have a change of heart?”

  “No.” Definitely not that.

  “Then, what’s this?” He gave a gentle tug to the blankets.

  “I don’t know.” And then with annoyance, “You just stared at me.”

  “That’s bound to happen every time I see you naked, so you may as well get used to it.”

  Clutching the blankets tighter, she wondered if that meant he’d be around for the long haul, that he’d want to see her naked a lot. “I wasn’t all that sure you were interested.”

  Reese considered her, stood—and pushed out of his boxers.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ALICE’S EYES WENT wide. God love the man, she would never tire of seeing his body.

  When he snatched the blankets away from her, tossing them to the floor, she gave a startled yelp but then just froze. What else could she do?

  She pressed her thighs together and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m cold.”

  Wearing a half smile and nothing else, Reese stretched out next to her. He took his time pulling her hands away, arranging them over her head so that she was stretched out on the bed. After looking her over with appreciation, he cupped a hand to her breast, used his thumb to tease her nipple and said, “Don’t be nervous about tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? What was he talking about?

  “I’ll be there with you.” He lightly caressed the other breast, too, then moved his hand down to her belly.

  Alice sucked in a breath. His hand was warm, a little rough.

  “Logan doesn’t bite, and Peterson doesn’t bite too hard.”

  He slipped his fingers lower, pressing them between her thighs, and her breath rushed out. “I don’t want to talk about that.” She wanted him to kiss her, but when she tried that, he gave her only a warm peck.

  Against her lips, he asked, “Do you still have contact with him?”

  With his fingers playing against her, she couldn’t think. “Who?”

  “Your savior.” He kissed her again, this time deeper, hotter. “Trace Miller.”

  Her brain stalled. “Reese...”

  He nuzzled her neck, his beard shadow prickly, his breath warm and soft. “Do you?”

  “I...” She felt his tongue and started breathing harder. “Sometimes.”

  He barely moved his fingers, pressing them there, his palm over her mound. It made her nuts. It made her want to move her hips, but she held still. Barely.

  Opening his mouth over the sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck, he treated her to a damp, tantalizing love bite. “How often?”

  Unable to think beyond her growing need, Alice tilted her head more, giving him better access, encouraging him to do more of that, and hopefully less talking.

  And damn it, her hips moved after all.

  “How often, Alice?”

  “He...” Reese opened his mouth on her again, sucked at her skin, and she knew he was marking her. It was so erotic, so sexy. And it felt so good. “Occasionally he...checks on me.”

  Reese looked at her, his gaze sharpened. “Have you seen him?”

  “No.” She shook her head. She d
idn’t need to see him. She knew Trace would be there if she ever needed him. “I...I haven’t seen him since he got me the weapons.”

  “The CCPs?”

  She had no idea what that meant.

  “The conceal and carry permits. He got those for you?”

  “I guess. Yes. He gave me papers.” She tipped her head back, moaning softly as his fingers both excited and teased. “But I haven’t seen him since.”

  Relaxing against her again, Reese nipped her earlobe, dipped his tongue inside. “Are you sure?”

  Who knew her ears were so erogenous? “It’s been forever.” She moved against his hand to get him back on track.

  Taking the hint, he whispered against her skin, “Spread your legs.”

  Even that, the coarse timbre of his voice, sent sweet lust coiling tighter. Knowing what he would do, anxious for him to do it, Alice opened her thighs.

  Teasing over her moist flesh, he parted her, barely entered her, stroking and exploring until his fingertips were slippery wet—then going high in the briefest touch to her clitoris.

  Her hips lifted in reaction; her gasp faded out to a vibrating groan.

  Green eyes heated, voice lower still, Reese whispered, “Right there, huh?”

  How in the world could he continue talking? Why did he want to, anyway? Barely able to breathe, Alice nodded.

  “Like this?” He drew his fingers up and over her again, and her body clenched in delicious ways.

  “Yes.” Exactly like that.

  “What about this?” Slowly, he worked two fingers deep inside her. Against her cheek, he murmured, “So snug, Alice. Nice and wet. Hot.”

  That felt wonderful, too, and again her hips moved despite her best efforts to keep still.

  “And this?” He used his thumb with amazing impact.

  Holding her breath, her body taut with need, Alice nodded hard.

  In a soft, raw growl, he asked, “And this?” before closing his hot mouth over her right nipple. He tugged with a gentle, insistent suction that sent new sensations flooding her body.

  Oh, God, it was incredible. Almost too much. Alice lowered her arms so she could hold him close. A climax built inside her, throbbing, receding, coming back stronger, closer.