by Billi Jean
“Yeah,” he sighed heavily and eased back on his crutch a few steps. He seemed to catch on that she wasn’t falling so easily this time, or else the sneaky man knew he’d have her alone soon and God only knew what he had in mind. Another traitorous tremble dove down her spine at the thought.
“What happened to your leg?” she asked.
“It was an accident. One of the reasons I couldn’t make it back in time to catch you before you ran off,” he accused. She opened her mouth and he tacked on, “I hurt it again recently climbing down too fast from a cliff. Another mission, not a big deal, but I was careless.”
“You’re using a crutch, it’s a big deal,” she surmised. He hurt himself? That’s why he didn’t show up?
His grin grew in his eyes. “You know me so well already, don’t you, princess?”
The comment sizzled between them and filled her with such possessiveness she tightened her fingers on his camo jacket. “I guess so, mister, so fess up. You’re hurt and it is a big deal, isn’t it?”
Laughing, he surprised her by slipping his hand along the back of her dress and squeezing her butt.
“David!” she whispered and thumped his chest. “Stop that. We need to talk,” she said, still cautious of the men who might or might not be watching or listening through that glass. “Especially before we move toward that.”
He ducked his head and stole a quick kiss before she could break out of his arms. With a heavy sigh, he straightened. “All right, we’ll talk, but I’m warning you, I’m not waiting too long.”
With that sexy threat, he shouldered the door open wider and beckoned her with his hand.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here and to a room—a clean one, so we can talk.”
“What’s going on? Really going on?” she asked, easing by him, still nervous he would try something else with his quick sneakiness.
“I’ll tell you.” He bent low and whispered against her ear, “when we talk.”
The ticklish sensation of his hot breath, and hot body, apparently very ready to make up for all those lonely nights, had her feeling as if she were walking on air. She tripped, since, of course, her brain was focused on the man and the things she wanted to do to him, let alone him do to her. She’d been getting ready to go meet a banker for a loan to purchase the local ice rink, so she was still in her heels and wrap-around blue dress.
“Until then, let’s just keep the ideas flowing silent-like,” David added. “And, princess, you look beautiful in that dress. You’re going to be more beautiful when I lift you up again for a better look, but damn, I missed you.”
The honesty and teasing hit like a double whammy. She’d missed both so much, and him so much. She knew exactly what he was talking about seeing… David was so strong he had been able to hold her up as if she weighed nothing and make love to her. He had a chest she’d never grow tired of touching, let alone the other parts of his anatomy.
She pulled her mind off David’s incredible body and swallowed to ask, “A clean room, what does that mean? And please don’t tell me it’s near the last one. Either of the last ones.”
He grimaced at that, and she felt bad. He’d been hurt. That meant he hadn’t been able to find her, especially with her phone back in his room.
Before she could apologize, he said, “It means it’s an unused wing of this disaster and safer than anywhere else I can put you. Us, put us right now,” he said. His expression could only be described as hungry. “No one is near there, and no one has clearance to be there, in case, you know, you get loud.”
She felt the familiar blush warm her cheeks. She had never been loud. Even when David had done things to her trying to make her scream—she’d been quiet, which seemed to amuse him, and she hoped please him, too. He’d certainly gotten out of control with her when she had whispered and moaned quietly. Her blush turned hotter at the memory.
David noticed it and nodded. “We talk, then we’ll see about being loud—”
“Don’t you dare,” she murmured, seeing the passion, banked for now, in his lazy blue eyes. The two MPs waited down the hall, but when David approached, they nodded respectfully.
“I want your reports.”
“Yes, sir,” both said smartly and saluted.
She rolled her eyes and blew her hair off her forehead. “Nice. You get the ‘yes, sir’, I get the ‘get in the vehicle’,” she mocked.
“Just walk.” He guided her past the men and down a hall. “They were doing what they were sent to do, Paris. Protect you. I’ll admit—”
“Protect me? From what?” She glanced back to see the men already heading off down another hallway.
“We never thought someone would come after you. Hell, we didn’t know where you were, not until this past week, and then we were—”
“Someone is after me? Why me? Why would anyone be after me?” she asked, and pulled on his sleeve to slow him down. He amazed her, but she also doubted the way that he was using the crutch was okay. It seemed to keep his weight off his hurt leg, so she guessed it worked. But he went at a pace that had her hurrying to keep up.
“We should talk about it when we get to the room.” He led her along several deserted hallways, then farther, until finally they came out of the hall and into what reminded her of some huge, ritzy hotel lobby from a Hollywood movie set. There were sad, neglected plants in huge planters lining a wall of windows, and more scattered throughout the marble-floored room. The entire place seemed deserted. She’d only seen two men other than her MPs her entire time here.
“What is this place?” she asked, awed by the huge chandelier and long, black marbled topped bar along the far wall. There were bottles of alcohol lining the shelves still. The large, round, plush velvet benches on either side of them were so luxurious she wanted to see if they were as soft as they appeared. The light dove gray velvet matched the dark purple carpet swirled with black and gray perfectly. The place had to have been amazing when it had been taken care of. “This place reminds me of a Stephen King movie set. If I’d seen all this that day, I’d have done something besides jumped out the bathroom window.”
He laughed then froze, realizing, she guessed, she wasn’t joking. “You jumped out a bathroom window?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. At his round-eyed expression, she plunked her hands on her hips. “Listen, Mr. G.I. Joe. You were gone, and I was scared. I did everything—almost—you said. They wouldn’t let me get my things, but I had no wallet remember, so I had to go back to the same hotel. I waited six—”
“Paris, slow down, breathe. I’m fucking sorry, there, I said it again, I’m sorry, this time more polite, okay? I was hurt, and Will was sent after a real sick bastard and I couldn’t get him to come and hunt you down. I didn’t think of the hotel, just saw you’d left the phone behind and thought—”
“You thought I left you?” she asked quietly. Now that she had a chance to see him, really comprehend he was standing here, she could see he had circles under his eyes and he was a little leaner.
“I didn’t make it back as quick as I wanted, since I tried to get off the mountain like a dumba— Anyway, I fell on down a cliff and was out for a bit.”
Ice shivered between her shoulder blades. “You fell off a cliff?”
He nodded, then seemed to think he’d said something wrong and cleared his throat. “It’s no big deal. I got shot and they had to take the bullet out, which took time. I didn’t let them operate on my leg,” he added in a tone that seemed to imply he thought that would please her. “Once I found out what really happened to you, what those two…bozos did, I punched one hard enough to break his nose.” He frowned and rubbed his jaw, considering her, then added, “Maybe the other, too, before they pulled me off.”
He stood there when he was done, as if he wasn’t sure what she’d say. As if she would criticize him. All the days missing him and he had been hurt. Shot. And thought she’d left him like…well, whatever kind of person does that…
Her brain was too
full to come up with more than, “The men who took me from your room?”
“Yeah, those two.”
Her heart clenched and she had to fight to keep her hands off him. He’d punched them?
“A friend of mine found out, she showed me your bag, and I put two and two together once we got those two talking. She found out your last name,” he added with a frown at her. “And that you’re Canadian. I was on my way to you.”
She twisted her fingers together, unsure what to say. It was all so perfect. David was so big, and right there. All her worries, and all the nights of crying for him, and he’d been just as upset over her being gone as she had over missing him. It all seemed like a dream.
Was it this simple?
Her instincts said yes. She watched him waiting on her, and knew he wanted as much as she did. It was there, simmering in his worried blue eyes.
David cleared his throat and rubbed his face again. “Anyway, yeah, this place is a huge compound. The guy even had a hospital, swimming pool and track. We’re going to rooms he set up for later on in his operation. We’re safe. You don’t have to look so spooked.”
“It’s not the room I’m worried about, David! It’s you. You were hurt and I was…well, I was afraid you’d died, then I kinda got to thinking you’d just moved on,” she whispered past the tears. If only I’d taken the phone. None of this would have happened.
He winced at her. “I never break a promise, Paris. I told you that.”
“I know. And you were hurt.”
“I’m fine now. I got shot and fell down a small cliff. I just knocked my head a bit too hard.”
She nodded as if that made perfect sense. A tear slipped free, but she quickly brushed it aside. Another followed.
“Just a graze, but the bullet made surgery necessary,” he repeated. “That’s why I wasn’t there, why I didn’t find you.”
She tried to get herself under control. He was safe now, standing and right here, larger than life. She swallowed down the tears.
“Paris,” he said gently, “don’t cry, princess. I’m not sure what that means when you do that.” He tugged her hair, but he looked miserable even as he cradled her in his arms. “Talking would be good, too. You know, so I know what you’re thinking.”
“Fine, Mr. G.I. Joe,” she grumbled, but kissed his shoulder to soften the sting and hugged him tighter. They stood like that long enough for her to get her tears to slow down. “How bad is your leg?” she asked. “Should you go so fast on that crutch?”
He sounded as if he’d choked on a laugh, and when he pulled away she could see she’d surprised him. The way he scanned her face suddenly had her accepting everything. His disappearance, the long, lonely nights, the misery, all of it was worth it if he was back, really back.
“I’ve got to get surgery, but it’s a quick one, and I should be able to walk on my leg in a day, or two after.”
“What?” She was an athlete. She knew what an injury could do. David had to be hurt to have a crutch because he was a stubborn man, and no way would he use one for no reason. “You have to—”
“Paris,” David murmured, drawing the breath from her lungs with the heat in his eyes. “I missed you so damn much. I don’t want to talk.” He tugged her hair, just like he used to.
She melted. Every hurt, every tear she’d cried and miserable thought she’d had vanished.
“Oh, God, you’re good at making up, aren’t you?” she whispered and dragged him by his rough cut blond hair down to kiss him properly.
Right before she could, he smiled. “I don’t know, you tell me. This is a first,” he told her, then took her breath away with his kiss.
Their passion exploded all over again, reminding her of how it’d been, but this time with an urgency she knew he shared. All those nights, all those days without him, if she were honest, they disappeared. In their place was a need that roared through her. Not just for sex, but for the connection, the intimacy she felt sharing herself with this man—with David.
She pressed him back until she felt him sit. His crutch went down with a loud crash, but she was too busy getting his pants open to worry over it. He had his hands under her dress again, and the feel of him cupping her butt was so good she moaned against his lips.
“I like you in a dress, Paris.” He tightened his grip and squeezed then stroked up her spine and back down with the same urgency she experienced. His hot breath against her cheek thrilled her, even as their kiss grew wilder. As soon as she reached his stiff penis she moaned. It was so hard, all for her, she knew. He lifted her by the waist and settled her to straddle his lap.
“David,” she whispered, and stroked down him. He was hard, so very solid. She’d missed this, him, all of it. The passion tore through them and she sucked along his jaw, so eager for him she couldn’t get enough. David must have agreed because with a groan he took her hands in his and tugged them behind her back and pressed into her with a firm, long thrust. It was slightly rough, and she wasn’t ready, but she loved it, his urgency and him.
“Paris, Jesus, I need you,” he groaned and flexed under her. She was spread tightly around his erection now, and the sensation was so good, he slid in as her excitement grew. “Let me in, princess.”
It’d been so long without him that she hugged his head to her chest and pressed back, trying to take him deeper. His girth made it difficult, but after a few shallow passes he eased more and more of his erection deeper. She knew he wanted more. She could feel the tremble of his muscles against her as he held himself in check. Wetness flooded her at the realization, and at her own naughty thoughts.
“Fuck me, David, hard. Show me how much you missed me,” she urged, kissing her way to his lips and watching his blue eyes narrow in sexy slits.
“Paris,” he breathed, and wrapped his arms around her waist so she was forced tight against him. He kissed her breasts, sucking on her nipple when he found it, right through her dress. At the same time, he shoved his hips upward.
“Oh, God, yes.” She couldn’t say more.
It was a rush to climax for them both after. Her orgasm built until her thighs shivered and a moan of pleasure escaped. At the sound, David tilted her closer and started pumping aggressively—giving her such a hot rhythm that she shook from the slap of the impact. Within glorious seconds David called out her name. She felt him grow harder, bigger, then with a long groan, he climaxed with her. Out of breath, she held him tighter as he shook with the power of his own climax.
Long, lush moments later, he slowly eased back onto the soft cushions and sighed. He took her with him, caressing her back until he pressed his hand to her neck and kissed her, holding her there as he destroyed her with soft, languid strokes of his tongue, as if he was savoring her.
Another tingling began around his thick erection. It had been like this with David. She’d sometimes climaxed after he did, by feeling him there, still inside her where he stroked her so beautifully.
David massaged his hands down her back and, featherlight, brushed the tips of his fingers lower. Then he pressed delicately against her ass.
That was all it took. She fell like a house of cards. Her body tightened so hard on him, David grunted and drove in just a tiny bit deeper, which added to the rush and explosion of her orgasm. He continued to nudge her until she cried out softly and broke away to pant against his neck. She stayed like that, so lost she couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but hug him tightly and rock along his body, hoping beyond hope that this time he would keep his promise.
Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t ever, ever leave.
Chapter Thirteen
David watched Paris closely, unsure if she was pleased with their crazy sex in the lobby, or worried. She didn’t appear upset, but she was quietly washing her hands and face in the bathroom. The room he’d chosen could have been an apartment in the Grand Swiss Hotel or some such fancy resort. All he knew was that it was unused.
If Paris was upset, he wasn’t sure he could honestly sa
y he was sorry—since he’d climaxed so hard he thought he’d experienced a double orgasm. He had before, but never so fast—well, he thought, watching her dry her face with a towel—he had that first time. And possibly when he’d shared her with Will back at Duke’s.
“Oh, that is so much better. I felt all caked in dirt,” she said and walked over, then surprised him by sitting down on his thigh and wrapping her arms around his neck. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Did I smell bad, you know,” she said with a blush and whispered, “when you were ravishing me in that lobby?”
He snorted and pulled her a bit closer. She kissed him again, seeming to want him close. Some of his anxiety disappeared at her affection.
“You never smell bad,” he said, adjusting her so she was more comfortable. He easily remembered those few days, and how she’d loved to sit on his lap, just like this, and talk about nothing more than silliness with him.
She examined his face this time, and tilted her head slowly with such intensity in her eyes he felt his face flush. That was her thing, but he worried about her scrutiny, and about what she was thinking.
“I hope there were no cameras out there,” she whispered finally, blushing.
“I do,” he said. “Then we can watch how hot we are.”
She ducked her head and tucked her cheek to his chest. “You better hope there weren’t,” she said. “I love the way you make me feel,” she added quietly. “But I don’t ever want anyone to see us again.”
It wasn’t she loved him, but it was damn close. That night he and Will had made love to her here, at the compound in the room with the two-way mirror rushed through his memory, and he hugged her tightly to his chest.
“Good.” He sounded rough. “I never want you in that kind of situation again either, Paris.” He swallowed and brushed her blonde hair off her cheek. He sucked at this part, talking about important stuff. Will was better at all of this—he’d seen the man coax a woman into forgiving him when Will had seriously been in the wrong. Will had simply smiled, said a few quiet words, and left with her minutes later. David had lost twenty bucks on the deal.