by Vivian Arend
And frankly, she wanted to know if he was on the level. If he was going to ignore her wishes, whip out his dick and start shaking it like some mighty he-man ruler of them all, she wanted that to show up early in the game.
Before her heart got involved.
He was waiting for her outside the pool looking as if he belonged there. Leaning on a railing, his towel under an arm. Legs crossed at the ankle as he stared at the gondola tower on Sulfur Mountain and the mountain valley beyond. He’d tucked most of his dark hair under a knit ski cap, but the ends sticking out had already frozen in the cold temperatures.
She resisted touching one of the white frosted tufts, pointing instead toward the parking lot. “This way.”
“It’s a beautiful place, Banff.” Tim took a deep breath as he paced by her side. “I miss the scent of the ocean, but that wind fresh from running over the glaciers is just this side of heaven.”
“I’m in love with the location,” Erin admitted. “The winters are clear and cold, but no matter how brutally frigid it gets, the crystal blue skies are enough of a reward to make me never want to give up living here.”
Tim settled into the car beside her. “Ever think about traveling the world like we’d talked about when we were young?”
Erin laughed briefly. “I’d forgotten that. No, I love traveling through Canada. A few places in the U.S. I still want to see, like the Grand Canyon and Joshua Tree, but there’s so much here to explore. I can’t imagine running out of places to play anytime soon.”
He hummed softly, staring out the window at the cliff face of Mount Rundle as they descended into town.
Things turned awkward for a moment on her part as she realized she’d used the phrase places to play. Those were not the memories she wanted to be resurrecting. She adjusted the car heaters to cover her gaffe before asking, “Where are you living?”
“Bear and Caribou.”
Erin whistled. “Sweet. Who’d you kill to get into one of those apartments?”
“Oh, did I end up in a coveted location?” He laughed. “I guess I was lucky, then. When I called, they said there was an opening, so I took advantage of it.”
“I’m in the fourteen hundred block. Less night life, more family houses.”
“I look forward to seeing your place sometime.”
His response was so ultra-polite Erin nearly laughed in his face. “Don’t play too hard. I want to be in charge of how fast and how far we go, but I’m not looking for a pushover.”
“I’ll be anything but,” Tim insisted. She pulled down the side street in front of his place, and he faced her. “I will listen to you, Erin. I promise.”
She swallowed hard, that final brush of fear throbbing like a warning signal before she slammed it aside and decided to take a chance. “Then show me your apartment.”
It was only a short walk from the car through the security doors of the complex. Erin avoided looking directly at Tim as they entered the elevator, the pristine gold and glass doors closing with a gentle whoosh.
The ride up was silent but for the loud beating of her heart.
He held out an elbow as the elevator opened, and she instinctively tucked her fingers around his biceps. The move was familiar and calming even after years apart. She needed a little calm after discovering he’d scored not only a unit in the best apartment complex in town, but one of the penthouse suites.
“The view isn’t anything spectacular, not since Banff building code forbids anything higher than three storeys, but I like it,” Tim admitted, unlocking the door and gesturing her in.
The room sparkled, final afternoon sunshine streaming in the tall bank of windows on the western wall.
“How do you manage these things?” she asked Tim, pacing in to run her fingers over the back of the luxurious leather couch.
He dropped his gear by the hall closet, pausing in the middle of hanging up his jacket. “Manage what?”
Erin gestured around her. “You make a call and end up with a gorgeous suite, fully furnished as well, right?”
He nodded.
“You go for an interview at the ski hill and just happen to end up right where you need to be to become involved with Lifeline, impressing all my co-workers. It’s as if you’ve got horseshoes up your ass.”
Tim stood before her, slipping her coat off her shoulders, his hands lingering on her arms. “I most certainly do not have anything of the sort up my . . . anywhere.”
So close. He stood so close that heat from his body brushed hers as they gazed at each other. His pupils were wide black circles in the blue, as if they were black suns set against the Alberta sky. He lifted a hand slowly until his knuckles caressed her cheek, a single, tantalizing stroke that was followed by him tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He stepped away and Erin sucked for air, fighting to keep from gasping. He didn’t need to know how quickly he could affect her. Although he was probably already aware.
Tim had moved to the kitchen, pulling out glasses and pouring them drinks as he spoke. “It was easier renting a furnished place than transporting my things all the way across Canada. I didn’t have much in the first place, not since I’ve been working on the oil platform.”
All around them was glass and chrome. Bold wood features and soft expensive leather. The entire place screamed money. “It’s beautiful.”
Tim offered her a glass. “It’s comfortable, which is more important. Go ahead, look around if you’d like. I have a phone call to make.”
He left her, seating himself on the couch and pulling out his cell phone. Erin watched him for a moment, then took him at his word.
Earth-toned tiles underfoot gave way to deep brown wood planks in the first room off the hall. The neatly arranged office was followed by a guest bedroom. Sparse but tidy, it looked comfortable and completely generic, like most rental places. Nothing there to make it into a home.
The next room, however . . .
Erin stood in the doorway of the master bedroom and debated the wisdom of going in. The four-poster bed with its sturdy log pillars at the corners was visible from where she stood, and that sight alone was enough to set her heart pounding. A thick quilt in a deep crimson lay on its surface, pillows at the head of the mattress.
Curiosity overtook her, and even though it was wrong, she did it anyway—crossed the room to stand beside the massive king-sized mattress. She trickled her fingers over the soft quilt, the material cool to the touch—the kind of fabric that would heat perfectly against naked skin.
She wrapped a hand around the nearest post, her fingers unable to meet around the thick support. Her breathing picked up as she squatted, ran a hand down the wood, and grasped the edge of the quilt. She lifted it out of the way to reveal large metal circles discreetly attached to the lower part of the corner posts, barely visible under the edge of the hanging quilt.
Her rapid heart rate skipped a beat. This room was definitely more set up for Tim’s tastes than the guest room.
She ignored the warning signals going off in her brain and chose to walk to the window. Here on the opposite side of the house she’d expected to see the back alley below, or the windows of the opposite apartment house. Instead she discovered a small courtyard, glowing lights in strategic positions to showcase a snow-clad bench and statuary.
Erin moved to the left, away from the bed and into the bathroom, still fascinated by the mysterious parklike area outside on the rooftop. In the summer it probably held flowerbeds, or a fountain. Now in the dead of winter the snow created sculptures of its own by decorating the small fir trees and railings with pillow tops of white. The surfaces transformed into fairy-tale-like structures topped by mushroom-shaped caps.
In the distance, Tim continued to talk—a low buzz that eased her fears of being watched as she explored. She turned to stare into decadence. Soaker tub, double-sized shower. A sink counter long enough to sleep on. More mirrors than was decent—anyone tempted to have sex in the enormous shower would end up reflec
ted multiple times.
Erin escaped the room before her mind provided images of Tim’s fairer skin contrasting with her own darker tones, both of them slick and wet and . . .
There was a smaller laundry room and storage space to finish the tour, distracting enough to pull herself from the X-rated thoughts she’d begun to follow. A more serious question struck her.
How could he afford the suite on a paramedic’s salary?
Erin returned to the living room just as Tim placed his phone on the coffee table and rose to his feet. The sun had dipped behind the mountain while she’d been gone, and sunset light transformed the place into a mess of red, orange, and gold.
“You like it?” he asked, moving to her side.
“Incredible. It’s very comfortable.”
Tim dipped his head. “You’re welcome any time.”
The urge to accept his offer right here and now was far too tempting, which was why she had to take a different route. She avoided his eyes, just in case he managed to sidetrack her. “Thanks. I should go.”
The expectation remained—he would ask her to join him for supper, or for another drink, or something. After pushing so hard to start things up between them, there was no way he’d simply allow her to walk away.
Only he nodded and opened the closet. “I hope I hear something from Marcus in the next couple days, but if not, perhaps I’ll see you soon.”
He helped her on with her coat, his hands restrained. He didn’t touch any more than necessary, not pushing the connection between them, and Erin kicked her own ass for feeling a touch of disappointment.
She’d asked for this. Asked to be in charge. Was she really going to complain when he gave her what she wanted? Bullshit.
He accompanied her down the elevator, making small talk about restaurants she suggested. Polite. Generic. They paused at the front door of the apartment house, Erin wavering in what to do next. She’d had this all figured out that morning, but some time in the past twelve hours the world had changed.
Tim smiled, a soft expression with a hint of mischief in it.
“Thank you for a most interesting day.” He leaned in and kissed her. Lips gentle against hers. Warm body only inches away as his breath caressed her cheek. He pressed a business card into her hand, curling her fingers around it as he pulled back.
The fleeting connection hadn’t nearly satisfied her craving. Erin struggled to speak, but nothing came out.
His eyes spoke volumes, as if he were reading her discomfort. “Call me,” he said.
And that was it. The brief kiss. A gentle touch to her cheek. Tim opened the main door and let her out. Erin returned to her car in a daze, a tingling ache in her gut, and lower.
Damn the man.
He’d given her exactly what she’d asked for. Why was she so pissed off at him?
* * *
His nerves were stretched taut as if balanced on the edge of a knife. Tim paced to the window, but Erin’s taillights were long gone. The only thing left was the faint scent of her shampoo lingering on the air, haunting him.
She’d explored the suite thoroughly. He was glad of that, even though he’d had to damn near nail his ass to the couch to stop from crowding after her, especially when she slipped into his bedroom.
He wandered in there now, full of energy he had no way to release. Or at least not the way he wished. Being around Erin, learning the chance of them coming together again, had driven his need to the breaking point.
Which was why he’d mastered himself. Stepped back and, as promised, really listened.
Not just to her words, but her body. To the things that her gaze said as she examined him when she thought he wasn’t looking. Erin had some definite ideas of how she wanted this to go—how they were going to be together.
He didn’t want to make assumptions, didn’t want to run slipshod over her desires, but there was a sensation of . . . untruth in her words when she said she didn’t want him, that she wanted to limit their desires, or go slowly.
Not a deliberate lie, but one she wasn’t even aware of telling to him, and to herself. There was something slightly off between her actions and what she’d stated was her goal, and damn if he wasn’t eager to help her realize just how much more she wanted.
He could wait, be patient, but in the meantime he was hard and aching, and hell if he was going to stay that way. Having the strength to follow Erin’s deliberately slow lead would be impossible if he didn’t take the edge off.
Tim turned off the hall lights and entered his bedroom, the slightly rumpled edge of the quilt catching his eye. Another jolt of lust hit at the realization that Erin had noticed the bed was more than it appeared.
Had she paused and remembered? Were the images and memories that flooded him as clear for her? Tim sat on the mattress and leaned back on the heavy post, pressing against his cock with a hand.
They’d been so young, so eager to try new things. Sexual pleasures of all kinds, tested one by one.
She’d enjoyed it when their experimentation had turned to ropes.
Intricate designs woven over her skin, soft white cotton contrasting with her darker skin tone and making beautiful patterns that came alive as sensual art.
Hands secured behind her back as he’d held her in place, pressing her head lower to the mattress so he could ease his cock into her sex from behind. His hardness slipping into soft, wet heat again and again until they were both ready to scream.
Or ropes to control her, to give the illusion of being subdued. Like the current setup with this bed—places to secure her limbs so she’d be completely at his mercy. Not so he could take his pleasure, but so he could give to her.
It was always about giving.
Except now, at this moment. Now his body demanded that he take. The memories taunted him, and Tim stripped off his clothes. Slowly. Once again meticulous and deliberate, no matter how tight his balls had drawn, or how heavy his cock felt as he released it from his briefs.
He paused to picture her, spread-eagle on his bed. Her dark hair loose on his pillow, her arms stretched overhead, wrists secured to the headboard. He could see her exquisite body laid out before him, and he wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled languidly. Prolonging the pleasure. Easing over his fullness, rubbing the escaping moisture over the sensitive head.
He’d done this before while she’d watched. Taken himself in hand and stood beside her to let her enjoy every move, his own pleasure rising because of her responsiveness. Her eyes huge as her tongue snuck out to moisten full pouting lips. As if fascinated by the pressure he used, the speed of the strokes. She’d stared, mesmerized, her body a lush banquet before him. Innately sensual, moving from one position to the next with her bold beauty on display.
His urgent need for release increased.
They’d teased, touching themselves while trying to force the other to the breaking point first. Dirty talk, sexual images. Tim increased the tightness of his grip, increased his speed slightly until pleasure raced up his spine.
Erin would smile, mischief breaking over her face as he’d draw closer to the end. Her fingers stroking her clit, dipping between her soft folds into her core and coming back glistening with her sweet juices.
Tim squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, attempting to hold off for one more second, to cling to the images of the past for one more moment, but it was too much to ask. Not when he could as good as taste her skin, smell the passion in the room. The desire. Her need and his all wrapped up together. Release exploded from him as sticky wetness poured over his fingers. He gasped, semen jerking from him on every pull as he used his other hand as a cover to contain the mess.
His heart pounded, his breathing uneven. They’d been apart for years, yet he could picture being with her as if it were yesterday. Another shudder rocked him, and he groaned, letting the final bits of tension wash away.
Tim collapsed on the mattress, the edge taken off, his body moderately satisfied, but his mind and soul still longin
g for her. For the real connection of being with Erin again.
Whatever it took, he would make that a reality.
CHAPTER 7
Tim entered Lifeline headquarters with a spring in his step, excitement and pleasure there as Marcus stood to greet him.
“You’re prompt.” Marcus held out his hand and Tim shook it firmly. “Let’s go through a few things before the others get here.”
“Love to.” Being offered a trial run with Lifeline that morning had been the next step in what needed to happen. “Glad to know my references checked out.”
Marcus laughed. “After I’d talked to the first three I wondered if you’d given me a list of hired actors to contact. The glowing reports were a touch overwhelming. Luckily for you my conversation with reference number four was more realistic.”
Tim joined Marcus in the boardroom, settling into one of the oversized chairs. “They didn’t sing my praises?”
“Oh, he still said you were good.” Marcus pushed over paperwork for Tim to sign. “But he mentioned you have troubles with authority, that you’re a great team player until you think you know better, and that if he never had to see you again it would be too soon.”
“I have an idea who that was,” Tim drawled.
“So not everyone thinks you’re the golden boy, but they agree you shine in your area of fieldwork.” Marcus leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “I want both. Your SAR skills, and your ability to work with others. While you’re on my team I expect you to check your ego and put it on the line for the others. Going solo doesn’t work—not with the situations we get called into.”
Tim nodded slowly. “I won’t blindly follow where there’s a clear danger,” he cautioned, “nor will I allow another team member to make a mistake that will cost them or the people we’re rescuing.”
“I understand. I’m the same way, but this is where trust comes in. Lifeline works together, which means there are times that sharing solutions needs to end. The best person takes charge at the right time. Occasionally more than one option could work, and whoever is leading the mission makes the decision. Second-guessing is dangerous because it takes time, and that’s a situation we want to avoid.”