“I’ll drink to that,” Ella agreed, clinking her glass with Lola’s.
A very rich Barbie, in fact.
Chapter 7
“Crosby?”
“Do I know you? I’m not supposed to let strangers in or Nurse Ella will feed me to the vampires. She said so. Have you ever seen her cranky? She’d do it. I’m a believer.” He leaned against the doorframe, subtly sniffing the pretty lady with hair the color of a crayon and eyes so green, they reminded him of those green Jolly Ranchers he used to eat as a kid.
And for some reason, he was also reminded of television when he inspected her more closely. Television and a lot of yelling. Huh. How odd.
He paused—another memory. They’d been batting at his subconscious like moths’ wings all day.
“I’m Lola, Ella’s best friend. I have a package for you out in the car. I’d drag it in here, but why should I mess up a perfectly great coat if she decides to yark all over it? I have a date, and if you have to change your clothes, you have nothing but time on your hands and a TiVo to pause Cops on.” She eyeballed his flannel shirt and faded jeans.
He motioned out the door. “Lead the way,” he offered, following her to a compact white Prius.
She propped open the back door and pressed her knee against Ella’s slumped form to keep her from falling out.
“Nice car,” he commented.
“Nice chick in nice car,” Lola remarked.
He grinned. “Drunk chick in nice car?”
“Oh, Jesus and all twelve apostles, you have no idea how drunk. She slammed back like four tequila shots. Someday—you know, when you don’t have the amnesia funk—you’ll remember Ella’s a lightweight when it comes to booze. For now? You’ll just have to trust.”
Crosby ducked around the car door and pulled Ella out by the arm, bending at the knees to place her over his shoulder. He scooped her up with ease and turned to smile at Lola. “Did I know you?”
Her eyes took on that cautious look Ella’s always had. “Do you think you knew me?”
He gave a disappointed grunt. “You sound just like Ella now.”
She waved a ringed hand in the air, delicate and finely boned. “Fuck that. I’m no nurse. Yes. You knew me. We knew each other. But not intimately. That’s someplace I’d never go.”
“I feel like you just called me ugly,” he joked, sensing something so distinctly familiar about her, it made his head hurt.
“No. I just called you my best friend’s—” Lola stomped a leopard-print, high-heeled foot and hooked Ella’s purse over his shoulder. “No, no, nooooooo! That’s it. I’m out. You know, I’d suck as a spy, and I think I’ve just proven that. So do with that slip of the tongue what you will, but I’m not getting into trouble with the pack.”
She ran around to the driver’s side of the car and shook a finger at him in stern warning. “Ella said you were asking a bunch of questions lately. No way am I going to be the one to trash your recuperation. So forget that shit, pal. Now you make sure she wakes up long enough to take an aspirin. She’s an unusual werewolf in that she suffers from hangovers. And put her to bed. Make sure she can’t fall off the bed. She’s a dead sleeper. Forget it, you already knew that, didn’t you?” Lola shook her head briskly and made a face. “Forget the answer to that. I don’t want to know. I’m out. Bye, Crosby!”
Lola hopped into her car, slamming the door shut and taking off like a shot.
Crosby stood at the end of Ella’s driveway while she hung over his shoulder.
Huh. How could Ella’s best friend trash his recuperation?
And what did she mean, he was someplace she’d never go because Ella was her best friend?
Yet more questions. Questions he’d become quite adept at shoving aside in favor of blissful forgetfulness.
Turning, he strode up the driveway with a passed-out Ella. Popping open the front door, he ducked inside, protecting Ella’s head with his hand. The soft feel of her silky, dirty-blonde hair made him pull a strand to his nose and sniff.
God, her shampoo was familiar, too, and not because he’d been using it for the past couple of weeks. Because it made him remember…something.
Wandering to her bedroom, with its gray and teal throw pillows and matching comforter, he sat at the edge of the bed and slipped Ella off his shoulder gently. She molded to the surface, long and supple, curvy and fucking so sexy, so lip-smacking good, it was all he could do not to peel her clothes from her body and slide his tongue inside her. Just to have the smallest taste.
She brought him to his knees whether he had amnesia or not.
As Crosby settled her in, his eyes wandered to the slope of her breasts while they rose and fell in deep sleep. His tongue ached to trail across her nipples, lick the rigid buds until she grabbed his hair and arched her back, pushing her body into his.
But there was more than just the sex. In all her cranky, standoffish mouthiness, there was something else about her.
Lately, it seemed there was always something else. Something right on the outermost fringes of his memory that just wouldn’t allow him to put a finger on it.
He shook his head before lying down beside her and tucking the covers under her chin. He couldn’t take a chance she’d fall out of bed now, could he?
She’d pitch a hissy fit if she found him in her bed. She’d been adamant about sleeping in separate beds. Crosby figured it had to do with boundaries and nurse-patient bullshit.
Whatever. That wasn’t going to stop him from making sure she was his.
So tough shit if she didn’t like it.
Setting aside everything but the gentle inhalation of Ella’s breathing, Crosby closed his eyes and hovered between consciousness and sleep.
That’s when it hit him.
What was on the other side of the fence.
* * * *
Ella woke with a slow groan, an arm around her waist preventing her from sitting up. She looked to her left to find Crosby nestled against her. Her body was instantly on fire—instantly needy and hungry.
She stretched upward, hoping to ignore her out-of-control hormones, and was relieved to find they were both still in their clothes. Slipping out from under his arm, she rose to make her way to the bathroom and grab a shower.
Oddly, her head wasn’t pounding, a very rare occurrence for her when she drank, but she was grateful. She had a lot to ponder after finding so much information on Marina Preston—poor little billionaire heiress who’d been cloistered in one boarding school after another since she was a child by a father who was too busy to have tea parties and take her on trips to the park.
Stripping out of her clothes, Ella turned the shower on and stepped inside, letting the water ease her aches. As she lathered with her favorite pomegranate body gel, she tried to piece together what kind of legal advice Crosby might have been helping Marina with that had kept him out all night.
She might never know, if things kept going the way they were. Once Crosby’s memory returned, what would change? He’d still be unwilling to tell her what was going on, and she’d still be unwilling to remain married to someone who couldn’t be honest with her.
While she dried off, the anguish of having him, and having to let him go again, left a sharp pang in her stomach.
Too exhausted to give it any more thought, Ella spritzed herself with body spray, wrapped herself in a towel and padded back into the dark bedroom, intending to climb back under the covers and sleep off the vestiges of the rest of the night.
Crosby’s long body sprawled in her bed made her ache with longing. There was nothing she wanted to do more than burrow down next to him and have his arms around her all night.
But it would only add to this new cache of memories she was making with him, and she couldn’t bear it.
Crosby had to go to his own room. It was the only boundary she’d drawn that she’d actually stuck to.
Ella put a hand on his arm, fighting the smile he brought to her lips. “Crosby? Wake up. Bedtime.”
His newly naked, yummy, broad, thickly muscled chest.
He lifted her hips swiftly and planted her on his waiting cock, drawing a gasp when he entered her.
Completely caught off guard, her body warred with her brain. She’d fought this for two weeks, longing for him, missing him, needing him. How much could one girl take?
Wiggling his finger under her nose, he motioned her to come closer.
Unable to resist, Ella leaned forward, incapable of stopping her hips from gyrating, loving the feel of him inside her after so long, hating herself for giving in.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he drawled, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip and making her press her forehead to his.
Ella’s eyes closed as she hissed at his upward thrust. “I had a great time,” she murmured, widening her legs to let one dangle over the edge of the bed. It always made for the deepest penetration.
Crosby licked his finger and circled her nipple with it, the bud responding by hardening instantly to his warm saliva and the cool air of the room. “Did you miss your ward?”
Slumping into him when he pushed her breasts together and sucked both nipples at once, she gasped again. “God, Crosby… We can’t…”
“But we are.”
“But we shouldn’t.”
“Says who?” he teased from around her nipple.
“Says ethics,” she moaned, breathy and harsh.
Now Crosby countered by ramming his hips upward, driving deeper. “If you really want me to stop, say so. Otherwise, come here and let me make love to you properly.”
Those words made her melt back into him and allowed her to seek solace in the shelter of his strong arms.
When Crosby placed his wide hand on her ass and forced her down on his cock, she came hard, with a flash of white lights behind her eyes. The relief was welcome and sweet.
Crosby came too, rising on his heels and pistoning into her until they both collapsed in a tangle of limbs and sweat.
Rolling off him, Ella panted, forcing air back into her lungs. It had been so long since they’d made love, she was too busy enjoying the afterglow to regret it just yet.
That’s when he pulled her back against him, his cock hard and ready for more against her ass. “We’re not done yet, Cupcake.”
A shudder of anticipation raced along her spine. “More?” she squeaked weakly.
His lips pressed to the top of her head as his hands brought her body back to life. “So much more.”
Her mind was exhausted, but everything else just wanted Crosby. Just wanted to get lost in this moment together and forget everything else. As her body melted back against his, her acquiescence became clear.
Crosby rolled her to her back, his green gaze hot and dark. “Tell me how you like it, Ella.”
But she couldn’t speak, words eluded her as he slipped along her length with his lips, watching her reaction as he went. Her breathing was choppy, but she couldn’t look away from his mouth, from the sensual words slipping from his lips. “Like that. Yesss.” She drew out the word. “God, yes…”
Crosby’s chuckle had a confident cadence that left her shivering while he teased her until she wanted to scream her pleasure.
He nipped her jaw, sending a hot ripple of awareness to her nipples while his fingers skittered back over her flesh and up along the curve of her hip.
She arched into his hand, into his lips that were silky hot. His tongue slithered over her rigid nipple then moved back. A groan of frustration escaped her throat in the way of a husky protest.
His light licks continued, swirling around the tight bud but not enveloping it in his mouth. Her hands clenched at his sides and her hips bucked when he moved to her other breast, repeating the agonizingly slow action.
Every muscle in her protested—each nerve raw from his slow loving, overstimulated and desperate.
His hair trailed along her fevered skin, brushing against it with silken friction as he slid back up to her lips. He pushed a hand into her hair, drawing her head back until her neck arched. “Touch me, Ella,” he said through clenched teeth.
The demand made her that much hotter. It was like Crosby, even in his amnesia, knew what made her tick sexually. Slipping her hands between them, she dragged her nails in a light scrape through the thatch of hair on his chest, moving downward over hard abs and toward his cock.
Hard and thick, it jutted forward, demanding she engulf it with her hands. When she tentatively grazed a finger over his shaft, he ground his hips against her. “Don’t play, Ella. Do it, damn it.”
She followed his command, grasping him in a firm hold and circling his shaft, twisting her hand in a spiral motion up and down while his breath fanned her face in choppy spurts. Ella cupped his balls, roaming over them until they were tight and he was writhing. He came in a steady stream against her hand, his cock pulsing with release, rocking into her palm, straining against her.
Crosby pulled away, the thick cords of his neck bulging as he lifted her up, his hands forceful and hard when he pulled her up to sit on his chest. Cupping her jaw, he asked, “What is it about you, Ella? Why do I know this? What is it between us?”
Ella’s breath caught in her throat. He’d once asked her that—a long time ago when they’d first started making love. She didn’t respond; couldn’t respond. Instead, she closed her eyes and slid up his chest. She wrapped her hands around his head and guided him to the space between her legs, relishing his hot breath on her abdomen. Soaking in the rich scent of him and his desire.
She held her breath when he groaned his pleasure at her freshly waxed flesh, and let it out when he slid farther down the bed so his mouth was directly under her.
His soft hair brushed her thighs, tingling, taunting her. His lips trailed light kisses along them, licking and nipping as he went.
Ella’s back arched and she reached for the headboard to clutch when he ran his tongue along her most intimate parts, flattening it, pressing against her throbbing flesh until she almost wept. He sipped at her clit, circling it, taunting her with anticipation.
The sound of his mouth moving over her exposed flesh was titillating, making the experience that much headier. His unshaven jaw rasped against her when he lifted himself on his elbows in order to gain leverage and opened his mouth wide.
And then she was screaming his name—with the razor-sharp pleasure of it, the all-encompassing exquisiteness. Her hand went to the back of Crosby’s head, jamming him flush to her body while he swirled his tongue inside her—while she called out his name and gyrated against his mouth.
Her orgasm ripped from her with a fierceness that had a sweet burn and flowed to her every nerve ending. She stiffened as he wrought every last ounce of pleasure from her body, her muscles aching, cinching tight then releasing.
Crosby reached upward, massaging her back, drawing his hands down over her ass and running them back along her spine again, soothing, bringing her back to reality.
He coaxed her to let go of the headboard and ease down into his arms.
Where they lay—together—in silence.
In that moment, she refused to be torn up by her decision to make love to Crosby. This Crosby was the one she’d married. Not the surly, angry, uncommunicative beast he’d turned into. Even if it was wrong, she wanted to relish this time, fall into it all the way.
The last thought Ella had was of peace.
The first genuine peace since she and Crosby had parted.
And it was good.
So good.
Chapter 8
“So. I have to go out for a little while. Can I trust that you won’t play with the TiVo again and mess up my taping of Dancing with The Stars? If I miss one more paso doble with that hot Tony Dovolani minus his shirt because of you, I’m taking away your Ice Road Truckers privileges
,” she teased, making sure she kept her face serene with no hint of her real intent.
Crosby leaned back in the recliner and smirked. “I can’t even believe you made such a boldly ridiculous statement as that. Maksim is so much hotter.”
Ella chuckled and threw her purse over her shoulder. “You stay put, and if you feel the shift coming on, call me. Got that? No shifting alone. After all the practice this week, I’m still concerned about how disoriented you are when you first shift. So behave.” While I go investigate that smell, the town of Gordon’s Crest, and then snoop around in the rich Marina’s life. She had to pinpoint that familiar scent—even if it meant braving everything that came with it.
Crosby tucked her bathrobe lapels together and smiled angelically. “I’m not moving from this chair. Swear it on my Argentinean tango. So where ya goin’?”
Her eyes shifted to the door, avoiding his. “To run errands. Someone has to feed you.” And find out what was going down on the other side of that fence in Gordon’s Crest…
“Can I have chocolate ice cream? I don’t know why, but I can’t stop craving it. Did I like chocolate ice cream before I was an amnesiac?”
By the truckload. Ella gave him a cocky grin. “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
He eyed her from the recliner. “I know, I know. ‘I don’t know, Crosby. Did you like chocolate ice cream before your amnesia?’” he said, mocking her favorite method.
“Wow. You’re so good at that now, you could be the nurse.”
He popped up off the recliner and was across the room in a shot. Hauling her against him, he tilted her chin back and ran his tongue along the length of her neck then nipped it with a chuckle. “I’ll show you nurse.” His hand flirted with the top of her jeans.
Her purse fell to the floor even as her hands went to his shoulders and her hips jutted forward to find the hard ridge of his cock, straining against his sweatpants. “No, no, no,” she moaned, more out of regret that she absolutely had to turn him down. “I have to go to the store or it’ll close and then there’ll be no chocolate ice cream…” She whimpered when he cupped her breast, pushing upward with a forceful hand and thumbing a nipple through her lacy bra.
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