She pulled an oversized shirt from the small mound of clothing in her suitcase and tugged it on over her head, then held out her hand for the comb which Ryder now held.
“Sit.”
She blinked.
“Sit. I want to do it.”
Her eyes stung. Damned hormones. She blinked harder, but her vision remained blurry. She sat on the foot of the rumpled bed rather than argue.
Ryder climbed behind her and began easing the comb through her tangled, wet curls. He was careful when he found knots, using his fingers to loosen them before sliding the comb through again.
Philomena shut her eyes at the burn there. This was bad. Very, very bad.
She hadn’t meant to get so involved with him. Not like this. He was Jason’s father, so there had to be some relationship, though she’d done her very best to keep it long-distance before now.
But this...this was something else entirely, and it had nothing to do with Jason. It had a little to do with the fact that a bunch of murderers were after her.
Mostly it had to do with some serious chemistry.
She tried to think of the last time she’d slept with a man she’d dated.
Tried harder.
“Okay.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “I think you’re knot-free now.”
Philomena swallowed. “Thank you.” She opened her eyes and turned to look at him over her shoulder.
He leaned in to brush a kiss on her mouth. “Go ahead.”
She inhaled unsteadily and took the comb from him, shifting so she could see the mirror over the dresser. She parted the hair on top of her head. “Can you get the back?” She wasn’t sure why she asked. Usually she just did it. It didn’t matter if it was parted straight, as long as she got it all braided.
His eyes lit with his smile as he took the comb. “Sure.”
Another squeeze in her chest. This was so, so bad. She shut her eyes and steeled herself as his warm fingers slid through her wet hair, comb following.
“There you go.”
“Thanks.” Really, she could have done it herself. She should have. She did it at home every month. But he was sitting there watching her with a dangerous swirl of emotion in his dark eyes, heat and caring, making her wish for things she’d ceased wishing for after she’d become the Medusa. Things she’d given up hoping for long before then, if she were honest.
She stopped that train of thought dead in its tracks. Far too dangerous. And impossible.
Instead, she turned her entire focus to the intricate braiding of her hair. She started with the left side, with small sections at the front, working her way to the back and adding more sections in as she went until the side was finished. She took the elastic band Ryder held out and securely fastened the braid, then moved to the other side.
When she’d finished, she didn’t feel the usual satisfaction the task brought. Just nervousness. No one had seen her during her period since she’d become the Medusa. Not even her mother. It was safest for everybody.
Now she had no choice but to trust Ryder to keep her safe for the next three days.
He still sat behind her on the bed, his dark gaze watchful, and she swallowed back some of the fear.
He’d already saved her from the Harvesters three times. He would continue to keep her safe.
But why?
She frowned at the question. He’d told her why. She pushed to her feet and set the comb on the dresser with the extra ponytail bands.
“Stop worrying so much,” he said from behind her.
Philomena forced a little smile for him as she turned around. “Easier said than done.”
He held out one hand to her. “You should get some rest.”
She studied his hand, the long, strong fingers, wide palm. He had a tiny scar across the base of his palm, and another on the side of his thumb. She wondered how he’d gotten them. Then she thought of the way he’d touched her with those fingers earlier, and her blood heated again.
At least this time, she could blame it on her cursed hormones.
She slid her hand over his, feeling the warmth bloom in her belly. “I’m not quite ready to sleep yet,” she said, surprised by how husky her voice sounded.
His fingers wrapped around hers, and she noticed his towel tented out in a hurry. “Really?”
She gave him a little push backward with her free hand, and he let her, not protesting when she climbed astraddle him and tugged the end of the towel free at his waist, exposing that gorgeous erection to her hungry gaze.
“Mena?”
“Sh.” She curled her free hand around his cock, sliding up to the tip, then slowly down to the base, giving it a squeeze as she went.
He groaned. “You’re going to be very sore tomorrow, baby.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Whether she did this or not, she’d be in plenty of pain tomorrow. She rather thought she wanted the pleasure first. She shifted on her knees so she hovered over the tip of him. Without sliding her fingers between her thighs, she knew she was wet enough to take all of him. She sank down slowly, though, drawing it out as long as she could.
He released her fingers and caught her hips. “Gods, Mena. You feel amazing.”
“Will you be too sore tomorrow?” she teased.
His dark eyes crinkled at the corners with his wicked grin. “I think I can take anything you dish out, honey.”
“Good.” She braced herself on his chest, lifting her hips before she let him guide her down. Over and over, slowly. Then it was too slow to suit her, and her hips rocked faster.
Ryder let her have her way, shouting with his release when she collapsed over him, boneless and breathless.
And she was very afraid she wasn’t nearly finished with him.
Ryder’s fingers clenched into fists the next day when Mena moaned softly in her sleep. She lay curled in a ball in the bed, wrapped around the heating pad, the satin blindfold both blocking out the daylight for her and keeping him from looking her in the eyes and turning to stone.
He kneaded the tight muscles at the back of his neck, wishing he could do something else for her. Anything. Being this powerless sucked.
It sucked as much as when Jason had been a baby and teething, miserable and unable to understand why, or when he was slightly older and sick with the chicken pox which had happened to strike during Ryder’s three-day weekend leave visit, and Mena’s period, and his son had cried for her the entire time. Ryder felt absolutely awful when he had to leave to go back to his base, but Aggie assured him Mena would be home that night. And she had been.
Both of those times, he’d been unable to help his son, to make him feel better. All he’d been able to do was hold him and get his meds into him.
He could do it for Mena, too, and more later. She’d told him in the wee hours that by late morning, she’d be more than ready to hit the shower to try to ease the cramping--with one of the vibrators they’d chosen last night. He would take care of her.
If she could trust herself, he could do more.
He paced into the sitting room, not wanting to disturb her already restless sleep.
During his discussions with Kallan and Andrea, both at Aggie’s and since then, via phone and email, he’d heard their story, parts of it more than once. The part that mattered most to him right now was the potential ending of the curse for Mena. Andrea had fallen in love with Kallan, and once she fully believed in their love and in him, the curse had broken for her.
He thought the same thing could happen for Mena, if she’d trust herself.
He didn’t think it was him she didn’t trust. He was positive it was herself. All those guys she’d dated who were temporary companions, she hadn’t trusted them, and rightly so. But she’d chosen men she wouldn’t have to trust fully. She didn’t want a real relationship with them. With anyone.
He wasn’t sure she did now, either, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Not now, not later.
When he heard her moan again, he turned and stuck his head into the be
droom. He found her trying to sit up, the heating pad discarded among the tangle of blankets, one arm braced across her belly and strain bracketing her mouth.
He turned off the heating pad, touching her knee so she knew he was there. “You okay?”
“I need to get to the bathroom.”
He caught her hand and eased her to her feet, feeling her sway. “Easy.” He slid his arm around her and guided her to the other room. “I’ll be right outside.” He released her and pulled the door shut behind him to give her a bit of privacy. And so he could grab the waterproof vibrator.
When he heard the sink running a few minutes later, he tapped at the door. “Incoming.”
She’d just replaced the mask when he stepped inside, her hands dropping from the sides of her face.
“Shower time?”
She nodded. “Do you mind?”
“You don’t need to ask me that,” he said, hearing the sharp edge in his tone. He took in a slow breath. “Sorry. I just don’t like feeling so helpless.”
A ghost of a smile--a grim smile--touched her mouth. “This is my life, Ryder.”
He knew and hated it. “Hang on, let’s get the water running first.” He moved around her to the shower, testing the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot.
“When you think it’s too hot, make it hotter,” she said from behind him, her tone ragged.
Steam rose around him already. Ryder swallowed and turned up the heat a bit more. “Okay.” He returned to where she’d braced herself on the vanity and lifted her oversized t-shirt off, noting the way her mouth flattened in pain when she straightened. “Easy,” he breathed, wrapping one arm around her waist to help her the short distance to the shower.
When she stepped in, she shivered. “Not hot enough.”
He winced as he readjusted the temperature. Every place the water hit her skin, color bloomed, and she let out a shaky breath, her head dropping back.
Ryder clenched his jaw as she stood there, her white knuckles gradually relaxing on the tile wall. Her mouth was still set, though, and the muscles of her abdomen quivered with tension.
“Will you hand me the vibrator?” she asked at last, her voice tight.
He grabbed it from the sink and returned to her side. “How about I help with this part, baby?”
“Don’t be gentle, Ryder. I need this hard,” she whispered.
His body tightened in a flash, even though he knew he was keeping his pants on. He knelt beside the open shower and flipped the toy on low.
She braced her feet apart, turning slightly to lean against the wall.
He swallowed hard as he eased the toy between her quivering thighs.
“Just do it, Ryder,” she ground out, rocking her hips toward his hand.
He slipped the toy inside her, feeling her body’s resistance. “You’re not ready,” he got out through his clenched teeth.
“It doesn’t matter.” She set her hand over his and shoved the vibe deeper, a soft sound escaping her when it was wedged fully inside her. “Turn it up.”
He obeyed, then let her withdraw the vibrator partway before slamming it deep again. He took over, maintaining her punishing pace.
Her skin flushed now, not just from the scalding water, but from the release building in her. Her hips met each thrust of the toy, and when he turned the speed to the highest setting, a startled cry passed her lips, echoing around the steamy room. Her body bowed toward his hand, trembling wildly, her breathing ragged.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He eased the toy’s speed down, then off, slipping it from her shaking body. He blindly dropped it into the sink behind him. “Better?” he managed.
She nodded, sagging against the wall, her cheeks flushed with pleasure, the color all the way to the tight peaks of her breasts.
His mouth watered. Instead of touching, however, he pulled a dry towel from the rack and turned off the water, helping her out and drying her off. When she was no longer damp, he pulled the sleep shirt over her head to cover her. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, and stepped out of the bathroom. He leaned on the closed door, his heart pumping madly, his cock aching.
When she tapped the door, he inhaled deeply and straightened. “Back to bed, or are you ready for some food?” he asked, grateful his voice came out sounding pretty normal as he opened the door.
“I should eat, I guess, before I crawl back in bed.” Bright color still tinted her cheeks. “Thank you, Ryder,” she added, catching one corner of her lower lip in her teeth.
He smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “Anytime, baby.” He put his arm around her and led her to the sitting room. “I’ll get breakfast.” He settled her on the sofa with a blanket and called room service. “Fifteen minutes. Can you last that long?” he asked when he sat beside her.
She nodded. “I’m sorry about this.”
“It isn’t your fault, Mena.” He caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth, brushing a kiss on her knuckles.
“You’re right. It’s the original Medusa’s.” A faint smile touched her lips.
“Has anyone ever considered begging Athena’s forgiveness?” he teased.
“Actually, yes.”
He frowned. “Really?”
“A long time ago, but yes, according to family legend.” She linked her fingers through his, then sighed softly as she shifted in her seat. “Athena apparently wasn’t willing to forgive and forget.”
“So this is forever? Generations not even born yet?”
She nodded. “She’s a vicious, grudge-holding bitch, evidently.”
He laughed.
Mena shifted, her mouth twisting a little.
“Already?”
“Not nearly as bad,” she said, her free hand rubbing her belly through the blanket.
He scowled. The relief hadn’t lasted long. “Let me.” He moved to sit behind her, then slid both hands beneath the blanket to lightly massage her taut abdomen. The muscles there already tightened under his fingers. Her breathing was slow, measured. Deliberate. He slipped one hand around to her back, and rubbed there, too.
Mena rested her head on his shoulder. “Your fingers feel good.”
So did her ass in his lap, though he didn’t mention that right now. She had her hands braced on his thighs, and there was enough space between them so his erection didn’t press against her.
Ryder concentrated on evening out his own breathing. “How would you feel about a pain pill after breakfast?”
Her head turned a little toward him. “I’ve got aspirin.”
“The prescription we got yesterday is for you, baby.” He kissed her cheekbone. “It should help with these cramps so you can rest a while.”
She was silent for a long time, and with her eyes hidden behind the blindfold, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “That was very sweet of you,” she said at last, one corner of her mouth tipping up.
Sweet. Great. He was sweet.
Ryder smiled. It was a start.
Philomena woke up warm. And not in as much pain as she should be feeling. She touched the mask over her eyes, then released a slow breath.
Ryder lay wrapped around her, his chest her pillow, and one of his strong legs between her knees, his breathing deep and even. Sleeping.
She smiled, then realized the pain pill he’d given her after feeding her scrambled eggs and toast still dulled the pain of her cramps.
Thank all the Gods!
She relaxed, wondering how long she’d been asleep. Lying here in the dark, she couldn’t tell. Her stomach gurgled. Long enough to be ready for another meal, but not long enough for the pill to have worn off yet.
One of his hands slid up to her nape, warming her even more. “Are you okay?” he asked huskily.
She nodded. “Better.” She might even be able to forego the shower and vibrator this go-round. That had never happened before. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Where?”
“At home. With t
he Harvesters.” She shrugged. “I just want to know.”
He sighed. “Joel said the guy he’s been tracking has headed to Virginia. Apparently there’s a big meet-up of Harvesters he’s going to.”
“Virginia?” She frowned behind her mask, trying to concentrate on this new puzzle.
“One of Aristotle Tassos’s homes. Joel is going to stick with his guy and see what he can find out there. I’m just happy they’re heading south and not north.” His fingers stroked her nape lightly.
“So Kallan’s great-uncle is still alive?”
“Ari? Yes.”
She worried her lip in her teeth. “One of his homes?”
“He’s apparently not trusting enough to stay in one place for long, I’m afraid. Even before Kallan went rogue, Aristotle Tassos didn’t ever call one place home for extended periods, though the Virginia estate is probably as close as he’s got.”
Philomena sighed. Her brain just didn’t want to function on a subject so intricate. Probably a side effect from the pain pill.
“How’re your cramps?” His other hand slid to her belly, grazing it through her sleep shirt.
“Not as bad as they should be.”
“Good.” He sounded like he was smiling. “How about some lunch?”
“Soup might be good.”
“I’ll see what I can rustle up.” He kissed her lightly and rolled away. “Stay put.”
Philomena stayed there, warm in the cocoon of blankets, his body heat surrounding her, as well as his scent. She inhaled deeply. She thought she’d know Ryder anywhere if she could just smell him. A smile tugged at her lips at the silly idea. But the spicy, masculine scent of him filled her lungs, her head, as she took another deep breath.
“Chicken noodle okay, honey?” he called from the next room.
“Fine.” She rubbed her belly when a stronger cramp seized her belly. It was still dulled by the painkiller, but that was beginning to wear off.
Ryder’s weight pressed into the mattress beside her. “You’re rubbing your stomach again.” He set his hand over hers, the blanket between them. “As soon as you have your soup, you can have another pill.”
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