Dodie walked up beside him. “How did you do that?”
“I have a way. Some things I’ve learned through my…martial arts training.” He would tell Dodie of his life, but not yet. It was too soon. “I can be persuasive.” Like the way he’d convinced Tricia the nurse to lead him to Dodie. “She needs to sleep.” He picked Mindy up in his arms. The woman barely weighed one hundred pounds—nothing for him to carry.
Dodie bit down on her lip. “Do you use that ability all the time?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t. It’s saved only for situations of desperation. Otherwise it would be unethical. You don’t need to be nervous about that.”
“If you don’t mind carrying her, we can go. But, um…maybe I should get a wheelchair? There are rules.”
“Those seem to have gone out the window tonight. Let’s get out of here.” He would return to handle the hospital, but not with Dodie. He’d get her and Mindy home, make sure they were safe, and deal with this later. “This night is just going to be a memory soon. I can promise you that.”
Chapter Three
Dodie shoved the key in her door and let Christian, who was carrying Mindy as if she weighed nothing, into her apartment.
“Which room? The big one with the small closet or the smaller room with the bigger closet?”
She was just about to answer when his question struck her as odd. “How do you know what the rooms in my apartment look like?”
“I knew the women who lived here before you.”
Of course he had. Christian had probably been intimately acquainted with every woman in the building.
She nodded and pointed to the smaller room with the bigger closet. That was technically the guest room. Not that she ever had any, but she’d gotten the two-bedroom for the purpose of being able to let people stay.
Dodie followed Christian into the second bedroom and took off Mindy’s shoes while he adjusted her friend on the bed. Mindy never stirred.
Staring down at the woman who had been as close to her as a sister for years, Dodie broke out in goose bumps. They hurt and she rubbed them away. “Think she’s okay? She hasn’t moved.”
“That’s a good thing.” Christian grinned at Dodie. “And she’ll be as okay in the morning as a person who’s been through what she has can be. You’ll be there for her. It’ll make a difference.”
Nodding, Dodie walked from the room, controlling her instinct to flee Christian. Now that things had calmed a bit, some of her earlier trepidation about him had returned. He was still the really, really good-looking guy who lived next door and had known the previous renters of her apartment well enough to be familiar with their closet sizes.
Of course, he’d also turned out to be kind, sweet, considerate, gentle, helpful, patient and sort of Eastern in his philosophy. A real mix of traits for her exotic male-dancer-slash-cover-model neighbor across the hall.
“I’m living in a strange episode of Friends.”
He walked up behind her. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Just muttering to myself. I’m weird like that.”
He took her hand. “Everyone’s a little odd. That’s the reason human beings are so individual and unique.”
“I agree.” She looked out the window, early morning sunlight streaming in from under her shades. It didn’t bring with it the usual relief of a new day. The night still weighed on her shoulders.
Christian stroked the side of her cheek. “You okay? You just got a little pale.”
She stared at him. Having already decided that he was a huge flirt, she wondered whether she should take him up on the offer in his gaze. He wanted her. Maybe he went home with a different woman every night and she’d never see him again except an awkward passing in the hall when they happened to bump into each other. But right at that moment, with her friend traumatized in the other room, Dodie could use all the comfort she could get.
What was the worst that could happen? He’d say no and she’d be stuck bumping into him awkwardly in the hall? The same scenario loomed if he agreed to a morning of meaningless sex together.
“I was wondering…” She swallowed. It was easier to rationalize asking for intimacy than to actually ask Christian if he might like to roll around in the sheets. He might be taken or, even worse, be in a relationship and agree to have sex with her. Then she’d be the other woman. Could she do that? Be the other woman? The home-wrecking sex-kitten who stole the sexy dancer-slash-cover-model away for a night? Her hands moistened and she wiped them on her pants.
“Your mind is working a million miles a minute. I can see it in your eyes. You were wondering…what?”
Part of the problem with Christian was that he kept making it impossible for her to stick him in the prearranged boxes she used for people. Hot male, exotic dancer and cover model—he should be an asshole. That level of smoking maleness had always meant, at least in high school and college, ego and rudeness. Guys like him made fun of girls like her as if it were a religious requirement.
Except that Christian seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say and he’d yet to make a snide remark about anything.
“I’m really attracted to you and I wanted to know if you would like to stay and, you know, go to bed with me. But now that I’ve said it out loud it seems like the most ill- conceived idea, and why would you want to do that? I’m sure you have a million girls you could call anytime.” Her face could have burst into flames if the heat coming off it indicated anything. She was speaking way too fast, yet she couldn’t seem to slow herself down. “So thank you so much for everything tonight and I guess this is goodbye.”
She tried to turn around but he shot out his hand and grabbed her shoulder, holding her where she stood.
“I have something to do today, but I’d rather do it around noon and I have to work tonight.” He pulled her closer against him. “But I have hours until either of those things has to happen. You can’t believe how much I want you, Dodie.”
Tightly pulled up against his chest, she could actually feel how true his words were. His cock pushed against his pants, pressing toward her belly. She swallowed. Okay. He wanted her too. That didn’t mean anything. He probably got hard for everyone who asked. Christian must—
Her inner dialogue went mute when his mouth met hers. At first he kept the embrace light, just the barest touching of his lips to hers.
Christian had the slightest touch of whiskers on his face. Not so much that she’d noticed when they’d been talking, but she could feel the scrape of them against her chin. She closed her eyes, giving in to the warmth from his mouth and the rough touch that the hair on his face created on hers.
He deepened the embrace. She was pushed flat against him so that her breasts touched against his hard chest. Their mouths fused together. His tongue plunged toward hers. She met his exploration eagerly and for a few minutes all time ceased to exist. Only Christian and the way their mouths danced together, tongue, teeth and lips charting new territory.
He pulled back and she opened her eyes. His blue eyes met hers. She had no idea what he was thinking. Had she done something wrong? His rigid cock pressed against her, so she hadn’t turned him off. Unless—horror of horrors—he’d changed his mind.
He stroked her face with his thumb, starting below her eyes then running it down her nose, across her lips and up around her cheeks and forehead. Why had he done that? The sweet gesture nearly undid her and she forced the tears that wanted to spill to go back down where they belonged. This was not a time for tears. She didn’t want anything to spoil what she hoped would soon happen.
“You should have flowers, wine and dinners out before we get to this point in our relationship.”
She sucked in her breath. “That’s quite a line.”
“So cynical.” He shook his head. “Why shouldn’t you be romanced?”
“I don’t want romance right now.” Sometimes she did—sometimes she craved it so badly that she thought she might explode from the need for so
meone to show her they cared. But right then? She really wanted him to help her to leave the night behind her.
“I know.” He kissed her nose. “I get it.”
Why did he have to be so gentle? It disarmed her and she didn’t need to turn into a ball of mush on her living room floor.
He scooped her up in his arms and she gasped from the suddenness of the gesture. She hadn’t seen that coming.
Maybe she should have. He’d swept Mindy up earlier as if she weighed nothing. Of course, Dodie had height and weight to spare in comparison to her best friend.
She’d never liked being off-balance. It tilted her world. “Please don’t drop me.”
He smiled down at her. “Never.”
In under a minute he had her in her bedroom and she was lying on her back on top of her bed. He moved until he was positioned directly above her, his legs straddling her body as he looked down at her.
“Hold on.” She squirmed out from under him. There were a few things she had to do before this could go any further.
“You okay?” He watched her as she ran for the door. Finding the switch, she turned off the light.
“Better now.” On her way to the bed, she stopped at the nightstand and pulled out a condom. Lights off, check. Condom found, check.
Now she could officially relax and enjoy this.
When she approached the bed he pulled her up against him, taking the condom from her hand. “I’m glad to see you’re so prepared.”
“Well, what can I say? I make checklists for my checklists.”
“Me too.” He slid his tongue along her bottom lip while he ran his finger up her cheek. Her panties drenched. Wow. It had been a long time since she’d done this, and no one had ever spent so much touching her face before. Who knew it would turn out to be an erogenous zone?
“You do?” She spoke on a sigh. Any second, she’d officially be putty. He’d be able to shape her any way he wanted under his obviously skilled, practiced hands.
“Yes.” He whispered in her ear, planting kisses up and down her cheek. “I do have a question.”
He did? “Really? You seem to have everything well in hand.”
“Dodie, I haven’t even started yet. Only first I need to know, why did you turn off the light?”
“Oh.” She rubbed at her face as if she could hide it from him. The low light from the window wasn’t enough to illuminate, she hoped, just how red she’d gotten. He had to know. Surely he would prefer the room darkened as well.
“Yes?” He planted a kiss on her neck. “Tell me.”
“Because I don’t really want you to see what I look like naked.”
He jolted upward and she wished she’d come up with a better excuse. The truth almost always worked better, but the way his body stiffened told her he hadn’t liked her answer.
* * * * *
Christian hadn’t seen her insecurity coming. It flipped over his shoulder, slapped him in the face and landed straight on his gut, where it made him want to throw something. How did a woman like the beautiful lady he desired more than he wanted to breathe come to the point where she didn’t want to be seen in the nude?
“Is there some reason?” He tried to keep his voice light. Controlling his urges came with the martial arts training. Somehow he’d manage not to make this even worse. “A crazy scar you think I’m not going to like?”
Although his had faded over time, if she really took a good look at his back, she would see all his imperfections on display.
“I’m a little overweight, which you must have noticed.” She sat up on her elbows. “Some might even say fat, although I detest that word. I think we could both enjoy this more if I knew you couldn’t really see me, and you might like it better not getting a real good look. Everyone is pretty in the dark, right?”
“You’re pretty in all lights.” He got up and walked to the light that sat on her desk. It had less glare than the room’s overhead illumination. “But we’ll compromise. I want to see you out in the open, on display to me in broad daylight. You want the pitch black. How about this? Somewhere in the middle.”
She shuddered and he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t just do as she wished. He’d make love to Dodie in the dead of night in the middle of a cave if she wanted. That would certainly be dark. But he really craved her trust. Someone—or maybe more than one person—had done a number on her self-confidence.
“I really don’t know. I mean you look like you and I look like me. I’m sure the women you’re with usually have looks like yours. I’m going to notice the second you realize I have flabby parts. Then that will spoil the whole thing for me.”
“You have flabby parts?” He stared down at her. She worried her lower lip and he wanted to bite it again. He would in just a second. “I don’t see flabby. I see gorgeous curves.”
Christian walked over to her and tugged at her shirt. “I want this off you.”
The muscles in her throat clenched and she rubbed at it, which made him smile.
“Okay.”
When they’d finally managed to remove the article of clothing—and it did take the two of them—he gasped.
“What?” She stared up at him wide-eyed.
“Your breasts are perfection.” They really were. More than ample, they were bigger than his hand and he wanted to lick them all over. A thought occurred to him. “You haven’t been wearing a bra this whole time?”
“I woke up and ran.” Her tongue ran across her lips. “I never go around without one. I didn’t have time. In fact, these are my pajamas—what I had on.”
“I love the show Firefly. Good choice for sleepwear.”
She smiled and he saw her relax. “Thanks. Really? You like the show?”
“I’m a science fiction junkie.”
He lovingly touched her breast. There would be hours of fun to be had with them. Lots of things he could do. For now all he wanted was to get his tongue on her and to let nature take it from there.
Bending over he, stroked his tongue over her breasts, his cock aching to do more, take more, claim more from her. He dealt in darkness, but he’d known from the moment he saw her that she would be his light. This morning he would begin what he knew would be a lifelong claiming of her.
Dodie was his woman. He was a man who believed the universe when it sent him signals. Listening to fate’s quiet whispers kept him alive, strong, and now had brought him to this time, this place, this woman.
She tasted both salty and sweet on his tongue, his favorite combination. Dodie sucked in her breath and he raised his eyes to look at her face. “You like that?”
“I do.”
He grinned. He’d known she would be like this—responsive to the smallest touch. Not a blasé lover.
Christian took her taut nipple in his mouth. He swirled it around his tongue and bit down. Her back arched and she cried out. He raised an eyebrow, trying to judge her reaction. If he cared less about making this work, he’d feel fine about assuming that was a good cry and not an “ouch, you hurt me” kind of response.
“Too much?” He stroked a hand down her abs. How could she not love them? With just the right amount of curvature, she looked like a woman, not a skeletal version of herself. A voluptuous, perfectly made female whose body he intended to get to know very well.
“You bit my nipple.” She breathed heavily.
“I did.” He nodded.
“Would you do it again? To the other one?”
Christian grinned, the absolute rightness of their bond emboldening him. “Tell you what, I’ll do anything you want except turn off that light. Deal?”
She nodded and he grinned. “Good.”
As he’d promised her, and because he wanted to so desperately his hands shook, he bent over and took her other nipple between his teeth. But first he wanted to tease her. His tongue played with the tip, letting it graze by his teeth but without actually biting down on the full nipple. She groaned and he could hear the frustration in the sound. Finally, he gave her
what he wanted as much as she did. He bit down.
She cried out, grabbing on to the back of his neck, digging her fingers right into his skin. Yes, he loved how she responded to him.
“Kiss me again, Dodie. Kiss me hard.”
Their lips met and fused together. He breathed her inside him. Who needed air when he could survive on her alone?
She pulled at his shirt and he stopped kissing her to catch his breath. “What do you need, baby?”
“This.” She tugged at the shirt again. “Off. You’re getting lots of time with me half nude. I’d like to see you too.”
Christian smiled. “That’s easily done.”
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and dumped it on the floor. A shower would have been nice. Grease from the show the previous day still coated his skin, making him slick.
“Do you hate that I’m all slicked up? I can go wash off.” He frowned.
“No.” She ran her hands over his abdomen. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“This is for the show. I come home and shower. I don’t walk around like this.” Christian had never felt so compelled to explain himself before. Usually he maintained a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. This woman mattered.
Smart, sexy and completely not the type to come on to him—she’d skedaddled nearly every time they’d been together in the past—he wanted her to think highly of him. Oil-wearing guys didn’t seem her type.
“I’ve seen you like this. When I went to Brass.”
His heart skipped a beat. “You’ve seen me dance?”
“Yes.” She swallowed, her jaw clenching. “Twice.”
“I don’t remember seeing you.” He did a pretty good scan of the audience every night, liking to know who was there. If the regulars came back, if some of the too-attentive women with unreasonable expectations arrived, he could prepare himself and act accordingly.
“You’d never have noticed me.”
He shook his head. “You must have gone out of your way not to be noticed, Dodie.”
“How do you know that?”
He pressed himself farther against her. “Because I’ve been lusting after you since you moved in next door. If I’d seen you there…well, it would have been a very different kind of a night.”
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