Storm Watch

by Jill Shalvis

  Nodding, she tried to turn away, but he held her. “About us.”

  “Jason—”

  “You stayed in Santa Rey when you could have left and gotten the life you wanted for yourself. That’s admirable.”

  “I stayed because my sister needed me. We’ve been over this. You’d have done the same.”

  “Maybe. My family means everything to me, so yeah, probably. But, Lizzy, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that at some point, you have to think of yourself.”

  The words, softly spoken and utterly from the heart, further compromised her calm. “I think of myself plenty. Hello, medical school in the fall.”

  “Before that. In the here and now. What do you do for yourself that makes you happy?”

  Kissing you… “Okay, so I’ve been busy. Look, you’re one to talk. You don’t do anything for yourself, either.”

  “I’m on leave. I plan on doing plenty for myself.”

  The look accompanying that sentence singed her nerve endings and had her nipples hardening. “I’m not having this conversation,” she said.

  “Just one more thing then.”

  “No.”

  He slid a hand up her back, gently curving his fingers around the nape of her neck to tilt her head to his. “I like that you were stubborn enough to make your love of medicine work for you, even when becoming a doctor didn’t work out back then. Now make something else work for you, as well. Something besides work.”

  “And I suppose by something, you mean you.”

  A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. “Well, I am standing right here.”

  “And leaving, soon enough.”

  His eyes never left hers. “Yeah. But what if I wasn’t?”

  She stared at him, her heart kicking hard. “Then I am. Leaving. Besides, you’re not looking for a relationship.”

  “I wasn’t, no. Things change. Life’s too short.”

  Her heart skipped an entire beat. “We’d drive each other insane within a few dates, Jason.”

  “Chicken.”

  Lizzy let out a breath and went into the bathroom. Locking the door, she thunked her head against it. Lord, was she out of her element when it came to him. Pushing away from the door, she turned on the shower. There was no hot water, but even a cold one had to help.

  THE BATHROOM LOCK CLICKED loud into the silence, the message clear to Jason.

  Do.

  Not.

  Disturb.

  Got it. He collapsed in exhaustion on the couch and leaned his head back, letting his eyes close for a moment as he heard the shower go on in the bathroom.

  Without electricity, that was going to be one hell of a cold shower, but hey, if that’s what she wanted to do rather than face him, fine. At least out here he could have some peace and quiet.

  Hell.

  He didn’t want peace and quiet. He wanted to be in that shower with Lizzy.

  Stripping her, soaping her, touching her. Tasting her.

  He opened his eyes at the odd sound, an unmistakable click of steel, a sound that reminded him of—

  “Don’t move,” a man said softly, moving around to the front of the couch, holding a gun pointed at Jason’s chest. “Don’t move and I’ll let you live.”

  15

  THE COLD SHOWER didn’t help. Getting out, Lizzy wrapped herself in a towel, and then froze at the sound of voices out in the living room. Her heart surged in her chest and she lunged for the door, because the only person she could think of who’d come here was Cece.

  Please, God, let it be Cece.

  She ran into the living room, tucking her towel between her breasts, dripping water everywhere, and skidded to a shocked halt at the sight that greeted her.

  Jason on the couch, his hands up behind his head, wrists in handcuffs, which were locked around the wood beam that the couch backed up to, the one that bisected her small living room.

  More shocking—standing in front of him was Mike, her neighbor.

  Holding a gun.

  “Mike!” she cried in shock. “What are you doing?”

  Mike was fiftysomething, tall, reed thin, and an ex-cop. He’d been shot while on duty last year and medically discharged. His head whipped toward Lizzy, his eyes widening at the sight of her standing there in nothing but a towel. “Lizzy.” He gulped, then quickly looked away. “I caught this guy trying to loot you.”

  “I wasn’t—” Jason broke off when Mike waved the gun at him.

  “You shut up.” Mike was a good guy who’d been through some bad stuff, including coming back after being evacuated during the big fires to find his house had been robbed.

  “Jason isn’t a looter, Mike, he’s…” She broke off and looked at Jason.

  At her hesitation, Jason slid his eyes in her direction and arched an eyebrow.

  Considering that the guy had a gun on him, he should be terrified. But he looked more annoyed than afraid, especially at her pause. “A friend,” she said, not looking at him again. “He’s a friend.”

  Jason snorted.

  Mike frowned and took another peek at Lizzy, specifically her tiny towel barely covering her wet body, and gulped again. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly, ignoring Jason’s sardonic gaze. “Very sure. Please put the gun down.”

  Mike lowered the gun and rubbed his jaw. “Sorry,” he said to Jason. “But we’ve been robbed blind before.” He turned back to Lizzy, still clearly willing to kick some ass. “I’ve been checking for Cece, but haven’t seen her. The cell service was so spotty, I couldn’t call you.” He stuck the gun in the waistband of his jeans. “Sorry again,” he said in Jason’s direction, and moved to the door.

  “Mike? The key?”

  “Oh. Right.” Mike shoved a hand into his pocket and fished out the cuff key, tossing it to her.

  Lizzy shut the front door behind him, then leaned against it and looked at Jason.

  Stretched out and cuffed, the muscles in his biceps and chest stood out in bold relief. His hands held on to the beam, wrists bound, and she had one clear thought.

  Sweet mother of God.

  He was still wet, still big and bad, and if she wasn’t mistaken, also fairly pissed off.

  And sexy. God, so sexy.

  “You going to bring that key over here?” he asked silkily. “Or stare at me all day?”

  LIZZY APPROACHED JASON wearing only the towel and a matching blush. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted a shoulder and watched her, hoping her towel would do him a favor and slip. It was the least she could do. “I have no problem with the cuff. I just prefer to be the one doing the cuffing.”

  She blushed deeper. Her knees bumped his as she fumbled with the key while trying to keep her towel from falling off. “I’m so sorry. I’m trying to free you. Hold still.”

  “Back in high school you once told me to let someone else make the first move.” He jerked his hands and the cuffs clinked noisily, reminding them both that he couldn’t make any move at all. “Maybe this is one of those times.”

  She went still. “This woman already made her move. She told herself no more.”

  “Because you’re afraid.”

  “No. Not afraid. Wary.”

  His eyes softened. “I’d never hurt you, Lizzy.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She had to kneel on the couch to reach his hands. Plus, she had to lean over him. Two things that worked in his favor, especially considering that the towel—the only thing covering her—got caught beneath her knees and very nearly slipped.

  Unfortunately, she stopped and tugged it back into place, securing it by once again tucking the ends between her breasts. She reached for the cuffs. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not shot,” he said. “So, yeah.”

  “He wouldn’t have shot you.” She grimaced. “Probably. Look, I really am sorry. If I’d known what was happening, I’d have—”

  “What? Come running out here completely
naked?”

  She dropped the key.

  He looked at it on the floor, then into her face. She nibbled on her lip and went to shift off the couch to get it.

  Then stopped.

  “What, are you enjoying me helpless and at your mercy?”

  He’d only been kidding, but then she murmured with some surprise, “A little bit, yeah. I think it’s the power. It went straight to my head.”

  He looked into her eyes and saw it, along with something else—excitement. “Ah, Lizzy, don’t you know? You’ve always held all the power. Here…” He spread his fingers, the biggest gesture he could make. “Do what I’ve never let anyone else do. Have your merry way with me.”

  “Are you telling me you’ve never let a woman have her merry way with you?”

  “Never,” he murmured. “Be kind.”

  She stared at him, her hair falling like a silk curtain to her shoulders, her breathing speeding up a little. His did, too, because though he’d never had a bondage fantasy, he was nothing if not flexible.

  And then there was how he felt about this woman. How hard he’d fallen. How much she meant.

  He’d do anything for her.

  Including this.

  She looked down at him, at the way his shirt was clinging to his torso, molding to his skin. Her mouth opened a little, as if she needed it that way just to breathe, and he went hard. He knew the exact moment that she knew it, too, because her eyes widened and her breathing quickened. “We’re mad at each other.”

  “Apparently certain parts of my anatomy didn’t get that memo.”

  “Huh.” She moved, and he thought that’s that, she’s done, but it turned out she wasn’t done, not by a long shot. Slowly, she slid her thigh over his, lowering her weight more fully over him as her eyes drifted closed.

  His entire body reacted to the sight of her straddling him, her lips parting in a hungry sigh, her hands going to the back of the couch on either side of his head as she rocked her hips to his and pretty much sent his heart rate through the ceiling. “Lizzy,” he managed, sounding low and husky even to his own ears. He reached for her, came up against the confines of the cuffs and swore roughly. “God. I want to touch you—”

  She slid her hands to his face, tilted up his head and kissed him.

  Deep.

  Long.

  Hard.

  No, she wasn’t finished, not by a long shot, and she made a soft sound deep in her throat as she turned more fully into the kiss, not holding back.

  He opened his mouth wider, moaning when she slid her tongue deeper, her hands tightening on him. He wanted to tighten his hands on her, too, wanted to run them up the outside of her thighs and under that towel where he knew she was all soft, satiny smooth skin.

  But he couldn’t, and when she broke off the kiss, he was slow to pull back from the only connection he could make, taking his time, breathing her in, letting his mouth rest on hers so he could absorb the soft tremors that shook her, shook him. “God, Lizzy.”

  Humming her agreement, she kissed his jaw, his ear, revealing to him what she’d so readily denied with those very lips only a little while earlier—that she wanted him, that she needed him, that she felt more for him than she’d intended to reveal.

  “Jason?” she whispered, her mouth on his throat.

  His eyes had drifted shut, his fingers flexing, itching to touch her. “Yeah?”

  Lifting her head, she held his gaze. She rose up on her knees, then got to her feet and, still looking right at him, her hands went to the towel tucked between her breasts. “For over twenty-four hours, you’ve done everything in your power to be there for me. To keep me safe.”

  “You kept me safe, too.”

  “I’m trying to show my gratitude here.”

  “Sorry. Carry on—” He swallowed hard as she let the towel slip an inch.

  Then she dropped it to the floor, and the only sound in the place was his breath catching audibly in the silence. God, she was so damn beautiful.

  “Actually, I have a confession.”

  Somehow he managed to lift his gaze to hers.

  “I’m not that grateful.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She climbed back into his lap, giving him a heart-stopping view when she spread her legs over his.

  Completely naked against his completely clothed body, she sat on him, eyes closed, mouth open, head back, her sweet, soft skin flushed, her body clearly aroused, and he thought he’d never been so turned-on in his life.

  “Uncuff me so I can help.”

  “In a minute.” She ran her hands up his abs, her fingers cool and not quite steady as she lifted his shirt. “Is that okay?”

  “That you take a minute? Take as many minutes as you want, just please, God, don’t stop.”

  She laughed and shoved his shirt up farther, pressing her mouth to his chest. She kissed a pec, then ran her tongue over his nipple.

  Unable to stay still, he rocked up, and she wriggled, better seating herself on him. Her nipples were hard and pouty, and when he fought the cuffs, once again trying to touch her, her belly quivered. Her thighs were still spread, still revealing the most gorgeous view, disclosing exactly how turned-on she was, having him sprawled out beneath her like he was.

  She did like her control, his Lizzy, and knowing how hot she was only made him all the hotter, and he thrust up again, until she let out a soft whisper of pleasure as his jeans rubbed at her.

  “More,” she whispered, and dipped down, taking her mouth on a little tour over the middle of his rib cage, nibbling at his abs…and then her fingers went to the waistband of his jeans.

  And he held his breath.

  “Are you comfortable?” she asked softly.

  “Are you kidding? I have the woman of my dreams naked on top of me, her fingers in my pants.”

  “Before last night, I hadn’t done this in a long time.” She popped open the buttons on his jeans. “I don’t know why.”

  “Because you didn’t have a pair of handcuffs—God,” he exploded on a rough breath when she freed him, wrapped her hands around him and stroked.

  “I didn’t mean the cuffs. That’s completely new. I mean…the sex. I think it’s because I forgot how to let someone in.”

  Over the expanse of his chest and stomach, her gaze eyes met his, hers more open and honest than he’d seen yet from her and he reached to touch her, needing to touch her, but once again was thwarted by the cuffs. “Let me loose, Lizzy,” he said hoarsely. “I want to touch you.”

  “Ja—”

  “You’re still in the driver’s seat,” he promised as she rose up and leaned over him with the key. “It’s all you. I just want to—” When his hands came free, he ran them down her back, and because she was still leaning over him, her breasts an inch from his face, he indulged himself there, too, drawing the hardened tip into his mouth to suck.

  Her response was to melt against him with a soft moan, her hands going to the back of his head, her fingers sinking into his hair to hold him against her.

  As if he was going anywhere. He licked, nibbled and sucked, while she held him in her hands and drove him out of his mind with her strokes. He cupped her sweet ass, shifting her a little closer so that she could—oh, God yeah—run the hottest, wettest part of her over the hottest, hardest part of him. “God, Liz—”

  She tugged at his shirt and he obligingly lifted his arms. Before yesterday it’d been a long time for him too, way too long. She could have no idea how he was barely holding on to his control here, but before he could mention it, before he could change their positions and lay her back on the couch to cover her body with his, she’d lifted up on her knees and guided him home.

  When she sank down on him, she gasped out in pleasure, a sound that co-mingled with his low, helpless groan. “Lizzy,” he murmured, hands going to her hips. “Let me—”

  She rocked her hips and he saw stars. He’d wanted this to last forever, but he didn’t have forever, not with her silken wet hea
t clamped around him and her breath soughing in and out in his ear, not with her hips pumping restlessly, with an air of desperation, as if she needed him so badly she could hardly stand it. With his hand in her hair, holding her head for his kiss, he shifted her leg, opening her a little more for him, so that her body was completely flush to his now, and just like that, everything in his world began to come together.

  Or explode.

  Depending on how he looked at it. He pushed up into her, a long, hard slide of slick, heated flesh that had her crying out in shocked pleasure as her arms went around him tight, holding on as if for dear life. “Jason—God, Jason…”

  Yeah, the way she panted his name just about did him in. He tried to hold back, tried to hold still and just let it ride over him, the feel of his own body sliding in and out of hers, her soft, sweet body plastered up against him, but then she tightened, shuddered and, with a small cry, burst. Unable to hold it together in the face of her gorgeousness as she fell apart for him, all over him, he followed her over.

  For what might have been forever, they remained wrapped up like pretzels, breathing like lunatics. He let himself absorb it all, her soft breath in his ear, her hands clasping him close, the feel of her little aftertremors.

  Finally she pushed off him and rolled over to flop on the couch at his side. “Not a bad way to go out.”

  He rolled to face her and pulled her in. “That wasn’t our last time.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Lizzy,” he said very gently. “It’s not going away.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Us. Even though you want it to.”

  She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re in transition. It’s a bad time for this.”

  “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Okay, then it’s because I’m going to LosAngeles.”

  “Which, luckily, is still on Planet Earth. I even know how to get there, imagine that.” He dipped his head close. “This thing isn’t going to go away, just like my feelings for you aren’t going to. And pretend otherwise all you want, I’m going to bet it’s the same for you.” Because he knew his words needed a moment to sink in, he got up and went into the kitchen for water.