He came up blank. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Riley. But I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way.”
A small smile spread across her lips. She wavered in front of him. “You want me?” Her eyes were heavy lidded, her breath warm in the air between them. Her rock-hard nipples pressed against the thin bathing suit material. His throat went dry. Christ.
He snorted on a chuckle. “You’re a smart woman, I’ll leave that to your imagination. But for now, I think you need to go to bed. You’re drunk.”
Her hands pressed against his chest until he took a step back. “Am not. I feel fine now.” She wobbled on her feet without his support.
“Right.”
She balanced herself on the counter. Her hand reached to the string at her neck and ever so slowly, she tugged. The bathing suit top loosened on her breasts. His heart stalled in his chest.
He snatched her hand in his, stopping her. Her eyes locked with his. She didn’t move.
“Not a good idea.”
Her hooded, smoky eyes softened and her breath sucked in. “I need a distraction right now, Ethan.” Her voice grew distant, pained. His guts wrenched. Heat swirled inside him. Sharper than that was the excruciating need that ripped through him. Sex shouldn’t be a distraction. Not like this.
He let go of her hand and stepped back to pull his shirt over his head. She moved to his body like a lithe cat to a pillow. Her hands smoothed over his chest.
“Mmm…this is nice.”
“Thanks.” He fit his shirt over her head. The material covered the top of her body. Her brows pinched together. He pulled the string at her neck, then reached behind to the one at her back and tugged that too. Her bathing suit top fell to the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you to bed.” He worked her hands through the armholes. Giving her his shirt was much easier than trying to find pajamas and helping her change. “Now come on. It’s late.” With his hands on her waist, he edged her out the bathroom and toward the bed.
“I’m not tired, Ethan.” Her steps zigzagged one in front of the other. All he had to do was get her to lie down. She’d pass out. And if she didn’t…he was in trouble. He couldn’t sleep with her. Not now. If he did, he was no better than the idiot he’d just scared off from the beach.
She flopped on her stomach on the bed. A muffled giggle sounded from the pillow. The T-shirt bunched up around her hips, leaving her ass on display in the denim shorts. His hands ached to touch her. Every atom in his body craved her. The image of her hot and panting beneath him seared his brain.
He needed some space.
“I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” She mumbled something from the bed and he slipped out of the room.
He made his way to the kitchen and took a deep breath. He flicked the light on and scrubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t leave her alone, unattended. Hell, a few minutes ago she’d tried to get in the shower. Chances were she’d be out for the night, but he couldn’t risk leaving her alone. He’d spotted a spare room across the hall. He’d leave the bedroom doors open and be close by if she got up in the night.
He grabbed a glass from the cupboard. She was aware of his attraction for her. That had been why she was pushing him away. Jesus, was he that obvious? He turned on the faucet and filled the glass. He checked his watch as he turned from the sink. With any luck, she had passed out.
He shook his head. Nah, he wasn’t that lucky. He moved quietly toward her bedroom and stepped in the room. She lay on the bed, her face pillowed in her palm, her other hand flung out over the edge of the bed. He lowered the glass to the nightstand.
His breath sucked in. On the floor next to her bag were her miniscule denim shorts. A lump hardened in his throat. He bent down, picked them up and frowned. They weighed more than they should have. His hand closed over something hard in the back pocket. He reached in and slid it out. A switchblade.
He cursed under his breath. What did she think she was going to do with that? Tomorrow, they were going to have a talk. A serious one. He balled up her shorts and a small, plastic baggie slid out and danced to the floor. The air left his lungs as he crouched to pick up the object. He’d seen the tiny ziplocks in many cases through work. They were the perfect, convenient size to hold small amounts of drugs.
Five or so white pills filled the inside of the bag. He studied the markings on the pills: roofies. He’d seen one too many of these in rape and homicide cases. He tightened his fist around it and put it back in her pocket. Riley didn’t fit the bill of a drug user, but what the hell was she doing carrying these around? Roofies weren’t a party drug one made the decision to ingest for a high. But as a hypnotic sedative and muscle relaxant, they were known as the date rape drug. He pushed to his feet and dropped her shorts on the nearby chair. Now wasn’t the time to question her.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her forehead crinkled into a grimace.
“Try to drink some water, okay?” She shifted under the covers, took the glass from the nightstand, and sipped. “Call if you need anything.”
Her hand caught his wrist. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right across the hall in your spare room.” If she expected him to leave she was in for a rude awakening. He eased her to lay back. Her eyes moved over him and his skin prickled with the lack of material to shield his chest and abdomen from her view. She snuggled lower in the covers and let loose a deep yawn.
“Sleep with me.”
Shit. The muscles in his neck tensed.
“Please, Ethan,” she whispered. Her lips moved into a pout. He swallowed. Cuddled in the same bed as Riley was dangerous. He needed that like he needed his knee shot out again. Her big green eyes grew heavy, her lids struggled to stay awake against the weight of sleep. She was half naked.
Slowly he nodded. “Sure.”
A soft smile touched the corners of her eyes. This was a bad idea. All of it. He should have said no. Her sweet, gentle voice had made it impossible. Oh well. He’d have to deal. He was a grown man, he could handle it. Even if she wore nothing else but his T-shirt. Any other circumstance and he’d be all over that shit. Hell, if their relationship had been different up until now, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t have taken the bait in the bathroom. But it was different. He respected her and he would refrain if it killed him. Even if he was in physical agony. He walked around the bed and shifted the hard bulge in his pants. Damn, he wished he could at least run to his house next door and get comfortable pants to sleep in. No way in hell he trusted himself to strip down to his boxers. Riley gave a whole new meaning to the term blue balls.
He lifted the covers and slipped under, keeping enough distance for a small elephant to snuggle between them. She turned over as he settled on his back. Her head landed in the crook of his shoulder, her hand rested on his chest. He exhaled. Christ. It couldn’t get any worse than this.
A soft moan sounded in her throat. Her bare leg slid over the cotton on his pants and rested there. His hands balled into fists.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 8
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak.
Riley squeezed her eyes shut. What the hell was that? She turned her head to the side and blood thundered through the vessels of her brain.
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak.
She growled and pressed her palms against her ears. A muffled snicker sounded from where the noise had come from. She opened one heavy, dry eyelid and squinted. Ethan sat in a chair, only a couple feet from the bed. The chair rocked back and forth, squeaking with every movement. A smirk lifted his lips, his eyes sparked mischievously.
She lifted her head off the pillow and her neck screamed at the sharp movement. Her eyes narrowed on his smug grin. Annoyance curdled her stomach and heat warmed her face. Everywhere she turned, he was there
. Didn’t he have anything better to do? His grin spread into a playful smile. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His large muscles stretched the thin material of his T-shirt. He was so big. The rocking chair he’d taken from the corner of the room appeared child-sized with his enormous form filling it.
She deepened her scowl. “What are you doing here?”
A chortle sounded from his throat. “You don’t remember, do you?”
She pushed herself from her tummy to a sitting position, carefully bunching the blankets around her body. Her legs were bare. Her throat constricted with that realization. A glance down at her chest showed she wore an oversized T-shirt. His T-shirt. He had to have slipped home this morning to change, because the memory of his bare chest snuggled against her back last night branded her brain. Her mouth went dry as if she’d been sucking on cotton. She licked her lips, and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Did we uh—” her gazed flitted from his face to the floor and back again. His smile widened. Jerk.
“Sleep together?” He offered, his hand turned over, palm up. She waited. Her brain raced a mile a minute. She couldn’t think. Her breath came out in sharp puffs. Oh god. How could she have been so stupid? She didn’t trust herself to resist him while she was sober. Drunk, she didn’t stand a chance. She met his gaze again, her fingers curled into the comforter on her lap. “No, we didn’t.”
Her breath wheezed out of her lungs.
“Don’t look so relieved.” He pushed out of the chair and stood. Curled on the bed as she was, he towered over her. “I refrained, though you gave it your all.” He tossed her denim shorts to her, picked up one of the cups of coffee from the nightstand and handed one to her.
Her soul moaned. “You made coffee?”
“Yup. Just before you woke up.” He sat back down with his cup. She sipped the warm delicious, perfectly sweetened brew.
“Ah, thank you. I needed that.”
“Oh I know.”
Her brow furrowed. “What did you mean when you said you refrained though I gave it my all?” She took another greedy sip. The brew was a tad sweeter than she normally liked it, but it was caffeine and she was in no position to complain. He crossed his ankle over his knee.
“You really don’t remember?”
“Give me a break. I just woke up.”
He shook his head, and cleared his throat. “‘I need a distraction right now, Ethan,’” he whined. His voice pitched on the fake female tone. Heat rushed from her belly to her cheeks, leaving a burning ember in its wake.
Her cheeks tingled.
“I didn’t say that,” she breathed.
He nodded. “’Fraid so, darling.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I don’t sleep with drunken women. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have refused. But believe me, when we do sleep together, you can bet your ass you’re going to remember it.”
“Jerk.” Her heated cheeks flamed and embarrassment tingled all the way down to her toes. Her lips threatened to pull into a smile but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of catching her blush. She picked up her denim shorts and hurled them at him. They hit him in the face, sloshing his coffee on his hand.
“Ouch.” He set his coffee down and wiped his hand with a napkin. “What did I say?”
“First of all, we won’t be sleeping together.” It took all of her resolve to muster those words with conviction. A small part of her wished he weren’t so noble and she could have gotten sex with Ethan out of her system last night. But then, she wouldn’t have remembered it and what good would that do her? “And secondly, don’t talk about my ass.”
“You just shot yourself in the foot. If you want your shorts you’re going to have to come and get them.” His eyes sparked at her as he folded her shorts over his knee.
She narrowed her eyes into slits. His lips hooked into a coy smile and she fought the spiraling of desire in her loins.
“And for the record,” he spoke evenly, amusement still glinted his eyes. “If you don’t want anyone talking about your ass, maybe you should sleep with pants on. I had to cover that ass of yours about three times since I woke up, because you kept kicking the covers off.”
If her face had been warm before, now it was on fire. She often slept best when half-covered with blankets. He was telling the truth. The constant drumming inside her head grew deafening.
“You—”
“Asshole, I know.” His smile waned. “You already expressed your dislike for me last night.” He stood and dropped the shorts on the bed next to her. “Why don’t you get dressed so we can talk? I’m missing leg day.”
The reference to his gym workout made her stifle an eye roll. But a fizzle of unease settled in her belly. Had she told him she disliked him? Well, maybe her drunken attitude was a blessing. She could have said something much worse—like the awful things he did to her insides when he smiled at her. Or the way her skin tingled every time he touched her.
With his back to her, she eased off the bed and wiggled into her shorts. Her knees wobbled beneath her. She grasped the nightstand for support, straightened the shirt, and then looked down. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. She wore no bra. And she’d been talking to him for the last ten minutes like that. She squeezed her eyes shut and fisted her hand in her hair.
“You done?”
Her eyes opened and landed on the breadth of his back. Even though he stood across the room, he was still only a few feet away. She needed a shower. Her tongue ran over her teeth. Gross. Her breath probably reeked. Dammit. Had he noticed? What did it matter? She was a hot mess and it was probably for the best that he saw her like this. Maybe it would diffuse that heated look in his eyes.
Then again, this was Ethan. With her luck, it would probably turn him on.
“You can turn around.” Hastily, she folded her arms over her chest to shield her nipples from his view. “What are you doing here anyway?”
He turned, coffee still in hand, and sipped. “You were pretty messed up last night, Riley. I wasn’t going to leave you here by yourself.”
“No, why did you follow me in the first place? I can’t see you wanting to party on the beach.”
His eyes shifted away. Her gaze sharpened on him. His free hand rested on the back of his neck. “I—”
Her breath sucked in. “You came to spy on me, didn’t you?” She’d had a feeling, but seeing him stumble over his words confirmed it. “Why would you do that?” She hissed. “That’s creepy, Ethan.”
He frowned at her. His gaze shot to hers. “Creepy? You know what’s creepy? Watching you take shots from a stranger. That’s creepy. You were about to go home with him, dammit. And the sooner we talk about what’s really going on here, the better. You’re endangering yourself and I want to know why.” His hand opened and closed at his side. The smooth lines of his face turned to stone. His eyes flashed at her.
Oh no. She wasn’t having this conversation with him. He knew about Hanna, she read it in the steely determination on his face. It didn’t matter. This was the exact distraction she couldn’t tolerate. Some macho guy butting into her life thinking she needed protecting.
“There’s nothing for us to talk about. I don’t care who told you I was at the party, nor do I care about what you think you know about me.” She took a step closer to him. Anger vibrated down to her toes, but she kept it in check. “I’m going to shower. You can let yourself out.” She turned on her heel, entered the bathroom, and shut the door.
“You have a lot of nerve,” he called. His words hit her back. She ignored him, and locked herself in the bathroom.
She turned the shower on the hottest setting, and rested her hands against the sink. What had happened last night? Her eyes raked over the bathroom, then zeroed in on the toilet.
Oh god. She slammed her palm against her forehead. She had puked…twice. And dammit, he had watched her. The memory of his warm touch
on her bare back singed her. Her toothbrush rested beside the sink. At least she had brushed her teeth after getting sick. But what had happened after that? She turned away from the vanity and pulled a towel off the rack. She tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. It landed next to her black bikini top.
Her breath sucked in. Had she stripped in front of him? Steam swirled around her like the fog of her brain. No, no. She wouldn’t have done that. Would she have? She swallowed. Ethan’s roguish, and slightly pained smile flashed though her mind.
He had stopped her from stripping. Then, she had told him that she’d needed the distraction. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. There was nothing she could do now except save face. She needed to distance herself from him. Sooner or later, she wouldn’t be able to keep up this fight. Her body hummed at the prospect of having sex with Ethan. Those strong, long fingers on her body could do a lot of things. Things she badly wanted to indulge in. The image of his hot, wet mouth on her danced through her mind. No. She couldn’t give in to temptation. Not now. Not when she was so damn close to finding Hanna. She’d shower, thank him for seeing that she’d gotten home–even though he’d once again ruined her damn plan–and maybe that would make him back off once and for all.
* * * *
“Thanks for waiting, but I’m fine now.” After she’d gotten out of the shower she’d been relieved to see he wasn’t in the bedroom. She quickly dressed, but found him in the kitchen. It took every effort not to ask why he was still here. But a small fist of guilt kept the words at bay. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened had he not shown up last night.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and shoved his hands in his denim pockets, accentuating the bulge in the center. Her pulse beat wildly against her throat. Good lord he was huge.
“Glad to hear it. So tell me Riley, what the hell was going through your head last night?”
Bait Page 8