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Close Contact Page 25

by Lori Foster


  Didn’t matter that Denver promised not to let him lift anything heavy.

  Didn’t matter that he got irate over all that mothering—she hadn’t quit.

  Stack thought it was some sort of warped female guilt—though he hadn’t called it that exactly. He’d said that Maxi felt guilty because Miles had gotten hurt while working for her.

  The others had backed up that probability. Hell, Armie had suggested he take advantage of all that sweet concern. But then, he didn’t know that Maxi had tried to fire him. Only Sahara knew, and thankfully, she kept it to herself.

  Neither of them had spoken yet. Maxi stood there, arms hugged around herself, watching while he peeled off his sweaty T-shirt and grabbed fresh clothes out of the drawer.

  “What are you doing?”

  She sounded so suspicious, he cast her a look. “I’m going to shower.”

  That got her away from the door and into the room. “You can’t. You have stitches.”

  “So?”

  “The doctor said not to get them wet.”

  He shrugged. No way was he going to bed in his own sweat. “I’ll be quick.”

  “No.”

  He was as incredulous with her refusal as she’d been with his about the guns. “Excuse me?”

  “You can’t take a shower. I’ll run a bath for you and then help you wash so you don’t—”

  His laugh interrupted her. “Sorry, babe, but you’re not giving me a bath.”

  “Am, too.” Nose in the air, she walked out.

  Bemused, Miles heard the bathwater start a few seconds later. Huh. Well, this ought to be interesting.

  With the blinds drawn, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and dropped them into his laundry basket. Naked, clean clothes under his arm, he stepped out and found Maxi standing there, waiting for him.

  Holding his arm, she led him along, saying, “Come feel the water. Make sure it’s not too hot.”

  She’d run him a hot bath instead of the cool shower he’d wanted? He’d have laughed again except that she looked so serious. He decided to go along, curious to see what she would do.

  At least if she was helping him in the bathtub, she wasn’t mad.

  Maxi took the clothes from him and set them on the sink. Luckily the water wasn’t all that hot, more like room temperature, which suited him okay. When he stepped in, she held his uninjured arm as if he might...what? Slip and fall?

  “I’m a big boy, honey. I think I can get into the tub on my own steam.”

  Chagrined, she let him go but warned, “Be careful.”

  Miles shook his head and eased down into the water. It surprised him that it felt so good. “It’s been ages since I took a bath instead of a shower.” When she didn’t reply, he glanced over and found her staring fixedly at his body.

  Specifically, his lower body.

  Maybe he liked this more than he realized.

  Watching her, he said softly but with steel demand, “Take off your halter.”

  Her gaze shot to his. “What?”

  “You’ll get it wet if you don’t.” And he’d get her shorts wet if she did.

  After another lingering look at his body, she reached back and untied the strings behind her neck. The halter dropped forward, showing her breasts.

  Smooth, plump and pale, her breasts were a perfect fit for his hands, making his palms tingle. Her nipples had already drawn into peaks, and he wanted her in his mouth.

  Staring at him, she reached behind her back and untied the lower string. The halter fell to the floor, leaving her in hip-hugging cutoff shorts.

  Maxi had always looked great, no matter what she wore. But he really loved her in the casual country clothes, like frayed shorts and body-baring halters.

  Those shorts she had on now...nice decoration, that was all they were, but he’d like to see them gone, as well. Maxi naked was a unique pleasure for him.

  Miles shifted. He loved her body, every sexy, curvy, creamy little inch of it. Heavy with suggestion, he asked, “Wanna lose the shorts, too?”

  “You want me to?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher, almost hoarse.

  With a note of teasing, she whispered, “All right.”

  He watched those slim fingers as they opened the snap, slowly dragged down the zipper, as she hooked her thumbs along the waistband. Already his heart pumped faster and he went semi-hard.

  When she bent to push down the shorts, her breasts swayed. She took off her panties at the same time and straightened, completely naked.

  “I will never tire of looking at you.”

  Her gaze shot to his. After a moment, she said, “Never is a long time.”

  He couldn’t imagine a day where he wouldn’t thrill at the sight of her. “Time passes quicker than you think.” He sat up higher in the tub and bent his legs, making room for her. As she stepped in, beautifully bare, he asked, “Was this your plan all along?”

  “No.” She lowered herself to her knees and, bracing one hand on his shoulder, the other on the tub shelf, leaned forward to take his mouth in a kiss that burned.

  It surprised him for about two seconds—then he tangled a hand in her hair, keeping her close when she would have withdrawn, parting his legs so she could settle against him. He kissed her harder, deeper, his tongue exploring.

  Her belly pressed against his rising boner. If she’d told him what type of bath she’d planned, he wouldn’t have been resistant. He was just considering how sex in the narrow tub would work when she suddenly protested.

  “Wait.” Breathing heavily, she stiffened her arms to push away. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Miles tried to draw her back. “We’ll talk after.”

  “We both need to wash first. And your arm—”

  “It’s not my arm that’s aching right now.”

  Her small smile teased him. “I’m a little achy myself.”

  He thought he’d gotten his way until she went back to her knees and reached for the washrag and soap. “You like to torture me, don’t you?”

  “No, but I don’t mind teasing a bit. I won’t make it so hard—”

  “Too late.”

  “—that you suffer.” The smile widened into a grin. “I promise we’ll both survive.” Now with a soapy cloth, she sat back on her heels and started washing him, knees first, then calves and each foot. “I should have gotten behind you.”

  “Then I wouldn’t be able to look at you.” Already soap bubbles dribbled down her breasts, dripped from her nipples and trailed along her flat belly. Little tendrils of blond hair clung to her cheeks and neck. He looked at her lips, swollen from their kiss.

  He wanted her. Nothing new in that. So yeah, maybe they should take this time to talk, then after the bath he’d be free to indulge.

  She beat him to it, saying, “That was weird about Fletcher and Woody, wasn’t it?”

  “Being related, you mean?” He closed his eyes as she massaged the soapy cloth over his throat, his chest and shoulders.

  “Yeah. I had no idea.” She dipped the cloth down his body, over his abs, lower still until she was stroking him under the guise of cleanliness.

  It took him a second to find his voice. “Apparently it’s not a secret. Hull and Donny were surprised we didn’t know.”

  “What happened today...” She paused to rinse his body, her hands lingering over his chest, her fingertips slicking over a nipple.

  He opened his eyes. Much more of that and the talking would be over. “Today?”

  Sitting back, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “Do you think it’s possible my grandmother was murdered?”

  Damn. He’d hoped she wouldn’t make that possible connection, but he should have known better. Maxi was not an obtuse person.
/>   He sat up, too, and, preparing for a more serious conversation, took her hands in his.

  “Your arm!”

  “Is out of the water.” He held on when she would have pulled away. “Quit fussing.”

  Mulish now, she frowned. “I’ll fuss if I want to.”

  “You already did. All day. I’m never going to hear the end of it.” He gave her a quick kiss to let her know he wasn’t all that annoyed by it. Not anymore anyway. “About your grandmother...who contacted you about her death?”

  “Fletcher.”

  He should have known. Every time he turned around, Fletcher was there, on the very edges of being involved.

  So that he wouldn’t upset her, he tamped down his reaction and spoke in a calm, almost detached way. “Do you recall what he said?”

  “He was kind, I remember that. And he asked me to come to Burlwood so we could talk. I knew it was about my grandma, of course. On the drive here, I kept telling myself that maybe she’d just been hurt...but I knew.”

  Miles cupped a hand to her face. “He met you here, at the house?”

  “Yes.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away.

  Maxi was all about actions.

  “She’d already been taken away, but he assumed I’d want to see her, and I did.”

  Seeing her hide her emotions almost hurt him worse than the tears. “Shh... I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Angrily she swiped at her eyes. “Crying is so dumb.”

  “Crying is natural when you’re talking about someone you loved.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. This, he knew, was one of the special things about Maxi. He couldn’t imagine sitting naked in a tub with any other woman while discussing something so heartbreakingly serious. But with Maxi, whatever they did always felt right.

  With her emotions now in control, Maxi sighed. “Why did you ask?”

  He’d wondered about the scene, but he changed his mind. She didn’t need to relive that, so he shook his head.

  “Miles?” Trying to guess, she said, “No one was here except Fletcher, but he drove me to see her, then brought me back.”

  Jesus, she’d been alone with him a lot when she’d been most vulnerable.

  “I stayed at the house that night. I just... I wanted to be close to her, you know? And I didn’t have the energy to drive back to my apartment. Once I stayed, I didn’t want to leave. I only came back to Cinci to get more of my things.”

  “That’s when I met you?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  What if she hadn’t come to the bar that night?

  What if she’d focused on a man other than him? He might have never met her.

  And if someone hadn’t intruded into her peace, he might never have had a second chance with her.

  His thoughts were so disturbing, he shoved them aside.

  “Each time after that when we...got together,” she said, “it was because I had to be in town, but I hadn’t yet learned that the house was mine until right before the funeral.”

  Where her sister and brother had given her grief. With his thoughts headed in a new direction, he accepted that if there’d been any signs of violence, she would have mentioned it. So probably no blood on the stairs, no weapons left around, no sign of a struggle. Of course, that didn’t mean her grandmother had only fallen—

  Maxi leaned into his palm. “Miles, what if someone pushed her?”

  He cradled her cheek gently, his fingers curving around her skull. “I don’t know, babe.” He wanted to say that he’d find out for her, but where would he even start? He was a bodyguard, not a PI. “How soon after you moved in did the trouble begin?”

  She went still, thinking, then straightened as she shook her head. “I’m not sure. I was here a week, I think, when I first noticed things missing or moved. But I assumed it was just me, that I was forgetful because of all the new changes, or that I was confused because it was a new place. Then it got more obvious, to the point I thought someone was in my house.” She drew a deep breath. “And of course, someone was.”

  If Fletcher had responded to the call the day Meryl died, he could have grabbed keys then. “Do your brother or sister have keys to this place?”

  “Not since you replaced the locks.”

  “But before that?”

  “I don’t know. My grandma gave me a key because I was always visiting, but I don’t think Neil or Harlow came out here nearly as often.” Suddenly she stood. “I need to get behind you so I can wash your hair.”

  Getting behind him meant sidling past, very closely. Miles put a hand to her hip to stop her, then turned his face and breathed in the scents of outdoors and sunshine and damp woman. He kissed one thigh, then the other, before pressing his face close and really tasting her.

  She groaned—and quickly slid behind him. “Behave or you won’t get clean.”

  Like she thought getting his hair washed was still a priority for him?

  Slipping down into the water, Maxi now had her thighs open around him, and when she said, “Lean back,” he didn’t argue.

  He rested between her open legs, his head on her breasts. She kissed the back of his neck, making his dick twitch, then got to work on his hair.

  “Relax.”

  He laughed, but as her fingers massaged his scalp, his tensed muscles loosened.

  Who knew baths could be so nice?

  But that was how it was with Maxi; everything was sharper, deeper, hotter.

  “I’m worried, Miles.”

  He half turned his head. “Please don’t be. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  She gave him a small smile, then began rinsing his hair.

  Never in his life had he spent this much time on his head. Usually he finished a shower in under five minutes—

  “You misunderstand,” she said softly, after she finally deemed his hair clear of shampoo. “I’m worried about you.”

  He sat up so fast, twisting to face her, that water sloshed out of the tub. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You’re the one who got hurt.”

  When he completely turned, more water spilled over the side.

  “Your arm!”

  “Is fine, damn it.” Fed up, he pulled the drain on the tub and stood.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Drying off. I can’t think with you like—” he looked at her naked body “—that.”

  She started to rise. “I’ll dry you—”

  “Forget that. Finish your own bath before the water is gone. I have a few important things to say to you and it’s better said out of the tub.”

  After a long look, she quickly washed her face and body, finishing just as the last of the water drained out.

  Now with the sweat off and a temporary hold on his lust, Miles felt more in control. It wouldn’t last; around Maxi it never did. They had things to settle, and by God, he’d settle them tonight before she threw him for another loop.

  He was still drying the floor when Maxi stood, and she damn near took his breath away. Pink from the bath, her skin glistening and her shoulders back in irritation, she was almost too beautiful to resist.

  He wrapped a fresh towel around her, kissed her forehead and stepped back to pull on his boxers.

  She seemed pensive as she dried, her gaze repeatedly darting to his. Just as he figured out what to say, she asked, “Are you leaving?”

  “What?” Damn it, he hadn’t even finished dressing yet!

  She wrapped the towel tight around herself. “I know what I said earlier. And I really do hate it that you got hurt.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, her eyes big and troubled. “I don’t want you to go, though.”

  That admission damn near took out his knees. “Ah, babe.” Miles gathered her close and,
despite her gasping concern for his arm, hugged her close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She took a long, slow breath. “Good.” With her cheek to his chest, she asked, “You’ll still teach me to shoot?”

  “Yes.” He tipped up her chin. “But not because you need to know, not when I’m going to keep you safe.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Satisfied with that, he promised, “I’ll teach you because you want to know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Miles almost smiled. Maxi ran him through so many emotions, sometimes in a single minute, that he could barely keep up. He smoothed a damp lock of hair away from her cheek. “I left MMA because I had a few too many concussions.”

  She reared back in shock. “What?”

  Miles tapped his forehead. “My last fight, I took a knee to the head that left me spinning. I still won.” He felt compelled to mention that little fact. “But I was out on my feet.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “It’s not oh-my-God worthy, honey. I had worse injuries. Torn muscles, dislocations, breaks. It comes with the territory. My plan had been to stick with it until I got the belt, then semi-retire. But it didn’t work out the way I planned, so here I am.”

  Pale, she slowly lowered until she sat on the side of the tub, staring at him in accusation. “When that blasted bomb went off, I kept thinking that you could have been killed.”

  “And all I got was a little cut.”

  “It’s not little, damn it! And what if you’d hit your head?”

  Hell, he’d hit everything when he’d landed on the ground with Leese. No reason to mention that, though. “My point is that in comparison, a few stitches are nothing.”

  “You’re insane, aren’t you?” She shoved to her feet and tried to get around him.

  It was a small bathroom, so he easily contained her, turning her around and, despite her huffy resistance, gently pinning her to the wall.

  In the struggle, she lost her towel.

  He tried not to notice. Yet. “I’m a fighter at heart, Maxi, regardless of what job I do. If you freak out over a few stitches, then we’re going to have a problem.”

  She breathed hard and muttered defiantly, “I’m not freaking out.”

 

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