by Lori Foster
“Be sure to wash that cut on your head, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” After putting his phone and wallet on the dresser, Brodie stepped into the bathroom and pushed the door until it was almost closed, but not quite. He wanted to be able to hear her if she started chatting with Therman.
He stripped off his dirty clothes, dropping them into a pile, then pushed back the curtain again. Howler still sprawled, but Brodie got him to move back enough that he could wash himself. As Mary had requested, he gingerly soaped the cut on his head. It was sore, but not too bad. He’d had enough injuries in his lifetime to know it wasn’t a big deal.
When he finished, he worked on Howler. “Regular shampoo for you, bud, but just this once.”
It was a good twenty minutes before he had a towel wrapped around his hips and Howler was as dry as he could get him. Luckily there were plenty of towels to go around.
Steam followed him out of the bathroom. As he knelt to put a towel on the floor for the dog, he said, “Let me rinse the dog hair out of the tub and you can have a turn.”
Silence.
He glanced up—and found Mary devouring him with her gaze, one hand splayed over her chest.
Damn, her interest threw gasoline on the fire he tried to keep banked. “Don’t look at me like that, Red, or this towel won’t cut it.”
“It’s barely covering you anyway.” Those blue eyes focused on his stomach, traveling down to where the towel would soon be tented, then to his thighs and very slowly up again to his chest. Her breath sighed out and she whispered, “You’re lethal.”
Brodie gave a final pat to Howler, who flopped back on the towel in exhaustion, and then he straightened. “Keep staring and you’re not going to get a shower.”
The warning jarred her out of her preoccupation. “Tempting, but I’m miserably dirty and such a wreck that getting clean takes precedence. But before I do that...” She lifted a small first-aid kit.
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to bandage your head.”
Mothering was not what he wanted from her. “It’s fine.”
“Still.” Wearing a stern look, she came over to him. “Bend down a little.”
He obliged, leaning close to her.
She smoothed back his damp hair. “It’s bruising. Thank God it wasn’t worse than it is.” After opening a small tube of ointment, she dabbed it on his head with a swab, then applied a butterfly bandage, gently smoothing it into place.
With her brows together in concentration, she looked so serious that he had to fight the urge to kiss her.
Her gaze met his and the air seemed to go still. They were close, and he wore only a towel.
“There.” Flustered, she stepped back. “Painless, right?” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried away from him to throw away the swab and return the kit to her overnight case. She closed it up and, holding it, headed for the john.
Brodie moved to slightly block her path. “Did you talk to Therman?”
“I texted him the details. That’s his preferred method for updates.”
“And?”
Her smile was tight. “I haven’t heard back yet.”
No shit? Seems like Therman would have replied right away after finding out they’d been set up. “Does that surprise you?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look so pinched?”
Her mouth flattened. “I’m trying not to ogle you.” She pushed past him and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. He even heard the lock click.
“No faith, Red,” he called out, pleased that she’d admitted, more or less, to the sexual tension.
“Right now,” she said through the door, “I don’t trust either of us.”
He grinned, until the vision of her buck naked in the shower, her hair down, crowded into his beleaguered brain. What he wouldn’t give to join her...
She hadn’t invited him, though, so he’d man up and keep it together—which basically meant not getting a boner.
He stared at the towel and silently ordered his dick to behave.
Soon as he heard the water start, he went to the old handheld phone and dialed the front desk. Luckily, they did have someone who brought up a fresh pot of coffee and creamer, and left with Brodie’s clothes, promising to have them back in ninety minutes or so. He wasn’t in a rush, so that worked for him. He tipped the maid well and looked around the room.
Howler was snoring, and knowing women, Mary would be in there for a while yet, so he dropped onto the bed and went through TV channels until he found an old movie that might, barely, distract him from thoughts of Mary soaping up.
The coffee was good, and he’d finished off a cup when he heard a buzzing.
Sitting up, he listened and realized it was coming from the other nightstand—where Mary had left her phone.
Bingo.
Without any hesitation at all, he rolled to the side and snatched it up.
He answered with a gleeful, “Therman.”
After a pause, he heard “Brodie? Where’s Mary?”
“In the shower.” Brodie sat on the side of the bed and stared out the window while he ordered his thoughts.
“In the...”
“Yeah, see, we had an ordeal.” To put it mildly. “After being attacked, she’s covered in mud.”
“She told me. Is she okay?”
“Depends on your definition, right? Was she thrown around by those assholes? Yes, she was. Did she fall into the mud more than once? Yup. Did some fucking lunatic shoot at her? That happened, too.”
“She told me the shots were aimed at you.”
And that made it better? “In the storm it’s impossible to know.” His words came out in a snarl. “Shots were fired. She wasn’t that far from me.” Renewed anger drove him to his feet. “She could have been killed.”
Silence. Brodie could almost picture Therman wheeling around his big room of collections.
Voice gruff, he said, “I want you both to come to dinner tonight.”
“No.”
“No?” Shock sounded in the single word.
Brodie didn’t care. “Not tonight, Therman. She needs a break. She needs to rest.” She needs me. “If you want to see us, we’ll come tomorrow.”
“Mary would never deny me.”
“Probably true, but I know what she doesn’t know.”
Annoyance coming through, Therman asked, “And that is?”
“You care about her.” Not enough to ensure her safety, but in his own way, Therman definitely wanted to make Mary a part of his family.
It was Mary who resisted.
Therman huffed in defeat. “I do. And I’m so damn sorry about this. You’ll take care of her?”
“Damn straight.” The water shut off. Mary might be coming out soon and he didn’t want to be on her phone when she did. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Brodie,” Therman rushed out, then explained, “It was for an Oscar.”
He mentally did a double take. “What?”
“An Oscar. I wouldn’t normally ask her to pick up an item under such shady conditions, but Oscars are almost impossible to get. The Academy always tries to reclaim them if one becomes available, and legally, they can’t be sold. Getting it was a—”
Brodie laughed, cutting off his explanation. He looked at the bag Mary had set on the floor, barely resisting the urge to kick it.
Hell, he wanted to pitch it out the window.
“You risked her life for a chunk of gold?”
“They’re bronze, plated in gold.”
Brodie held the phone out to stare at it in disbelief. With it back to his ear, he said, “I don’t give a shit if they’re carved from kryptonite.”
“I didn’t know she’d be risking her life! I thought it was shady bec
ause it’s illegal to sell them, not because someone wanted to inflict harm or rob me.”
Pissed as he was, that sounded plausible, but Brodie didn’t care. “Tomorrow, Therman. You can explain it all to her then.” He disconnected and put the phone on the nightstand.
“That was Therman?”
Brodie jerked around—and clenched all over.
Mary stood in the bathroom doorway, backlit by the fluorescent light behind her. Her long hair, only towel dried, was every bit as striking as he’d known it would be. Wearing a dressed-down peach T-shirt and clinging white shorts—no bra—she literally took his breath away.
She watched him, her fingertips fiddling with the high hem of the shorts, maybe waiting for his reaction.
“Nice outfit,” he growled, the rush of lust making his voice rougher than he’d intended.
“It’s actually for sleeping, but I...wanted to be comfortable.”
Her comfort made him very uncomfortable—in a delicious way.
Because he suddenly had other things on his mind, he said, “Yeah, it was Therman,” as he started around the bed, heading toward her.
He knew he should wait. He’d just told Therman that she needed to rest.
There was something in those startling blue eyes, though... “We’re going to see him tomorrow.”
“Not today?” She backed up a step, then stopped and lifted her chin.
“Tomorrow,” he said again, slowing his pace until he stood right in front of her. Their gazes held as he stared down at her. He wanted to pull her close, and he wanted to make this last. The two didn’t go together because he knew the moment he touched her, he’d be lost.
To ease into things, he asked, “Did you think about me in the shower?”
She touched his shoulder. “Yes.” She inhaled. “Did you think about me while I was in the shower?”
“God, yes.” He thought about her all the time, but after what they’d just been through? Knowing she could have been hurt? She was front and center in his thoughts, and damn it, he liked her there.
“Brodie?” Her fingers slid down to his chest, through his chest hair. “Do you have a condom with you?”
CHAPTER NINE
“WAS THAT AN INVITATION, RED?” He crowded closer, his voice rough and husky. “Because it sure as hell sounded like it.”
“Actually...yes.” The warmth of his skin, that fascinating chest hair, even his small dark nipples, all made discussion difficult. But this was important and she was determined to be a full participant. “If you have protection.”
“I have two rubbers,” he said, and his hand slid along her neck, under the fall of her hair. “You’re sure? I don’t want to take advantage—”
“I wouldn’t let you.” She’d given it plenty of thought and she knew what she wanted. What she wanted so badly. “If you keep talking, I’m going to think you aren’t interested.”
Those crazy thick lashes lowered and his mouth tipped in a predatory smile. “Then I’ll shut up right now and kiss you instead.”
Oh, and what a kiss. With one brawny arm around her waist, he drew her up on her tiptoes against him. He opened her lips with ease and then his tongue tasted her, leisurely, thoroughly, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Impromptu sex in a seedy motel after a near-death experience might not be a novel thing for Brodie. For her, it was unheard of. Her few excursions into carnal activity had been sorely uneventful. Disappointing even.
Hardly worth the effort.
But running her palms over all the solid, hot flesh of Brodie’s shoulders and chest, relishing the way he handled her, how he kissed her, she sensed he’d be the exception to the rule.
She trailed her hands down to his waist, then around to his back—and lower—until she encountered the towel.
It didn’t take much for her to tug it away.
He lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes were incendiary, his mouth wet, and color slashed his cheekbones.
Mary stared up at him and said, “Oops. I think you lost your towel.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “You want to see me, Red?”
She had a heartbeat, so of course she did. “Yes, please.”
Arms out to his sides, without even a hint of modesty, Brodie stepped back.
So much heat infused her, she should have melted.
Brodie wasn’t a bodybuilder type, but honest-to-God muscles, earned from hard work, carved a physique that made her mouth go dry...while other places got decidedly wet.
“Do I measure up?”
She gave a jerky nod. Of course she’d known he’d be incredible; she’d already seen him shirtless, and jeans didn’t hide the strength in his long thighs. But without clothes...
No wonder the man was so cocky. He had good reason, looking as he looked.
Dark hair decorated his body to masculine perfection. Why would any man wax or shave when hair was so freaking sexy? It shaded his chest from nipple to nipple, narrowed to a thin line down his torso to circle his navel, then trailed farther down, where it got thicker around his sex.
He was bigger than she’d expected and while it made her a little nervous, it also left her body throbbing in anticipation.
“You could take off that shirt while you look.”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Then you won’t let me look anymore.”
“Sure I will.” He frowned, but it didn’t appear to be in annoyance. More like curiosity. “You expect me to start rushing you?”
Because she couldn’t help herself, her attention went back to his body. His torso was truly a thing of beauty. “Men definitely rush when they see a naked woman.” That was her experience anyway. Not that it had mattered before, because those times she’d wanted to get through it.
Her first time, she’d only felt obligated to lose her virginity. It had been in defiance mostly, a refusal to let others influence her decisions.
That had been so miserable, she tried a second time out of curiosity, just to see if the first time had been a fluke, a case of bad luck and bad choices.
The experience hadn’t improved much. When she hadn’t hidden her dissatisfaction, she’d caught the blame. Truthfully, it was partly her fault because she hadn’t known what to expect.
Her mother had certainly loved sex—with any man, at just about any time, for any reason. Television and movies made it out to be life altering. Books romanticized it even more.
For a long time she’d decided sex wasn’t worth the bother.
Eventually, affection had motivated her to try once more, only to discover that affection was not a good basis for sex, either. It wasn’t horrible, but again, was it worth the bother?
She hadn’t thought so.
But none of those experiences applied with Brodie. For the first time that she could remember, her past with all its complicated, negative influences didn’t factor into things at all. All that mattered was that she wanted him.
Badly.
Since the day she’d met him, he’d occupied her thoughts.
While she’d been looking at him and thinking how novel it was to really want a man, Brodie had apparently been stewing.
He shifted his stance, crossing his arms and giving her a narrow-eyed glare.
She blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Here’s the thing, Red. You can look all you want. I don’t mind at all.”
“Thank you.” She could happily look at him all day, but she really wanted to touch, too. And smell.
And taste.
“But I do mind if you start comparing me to some asshole who came up short in the sack.”
Her eyes flared. “You’re annoyed with me?”
His expression softened. “We’re the only two here, babe. You and me. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
He was always so sure of him
self. She wished she could be just as confident. A glance at Howler assured her the dog was sleeping. “He won’t mind?”
Brodie rolled a shoulder—and since he was naked, she enjoyed seeing his erection bob with the movement.
Fascinating.
“I don’t usually make a habit of including him, you know? But he can sleep through anything, and he’s pretty zoned after his ordeal and the bath.” He went to the bed to retrieve the remote, giving her an incredible view of his muscled behind, too, then he turned up the TV. “Background noise might help.”
“I’m willing to try.”
He grinned, rubbed his mouth, then laughed.
She should have been offended, but instead, she smiled, too. “What?”
“You look anxious, Red. Makes it hard to keep my promise about not rushing you, but swear to God, I’ll somehow manage.”
He could rush her a little. So far all he’d done was talk.
And display himself.
She put her hands up to her still-damp hair, pushing it over her shoulders. “I should have taken the time to dry it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Frowning now, he came toward her, but not to take over. “What happened here?” He caught her right wrist and lifted her arm, examining the rash there.
“Um...it’s nothing.” He was so close, that bare, gorgeous body near enough that she breathed in his scent. His erection, standing big and bold, almost brushed her hip.
She wanted to jump him, to take advantage of the sizzling awareness and hot excitement before it waned. So far, this interlude had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and was nowhere near what she’d imagined.
Barely there, his rough fingertips stroked around the ugly raised welts. “It looks painful.”
“A little itchy.” Because he was so serious about it—while she stood there aching for him—she explained, “I fell when that creep tried to take my briefcase. My arm went into some prickly weeds and my hip hit a rock, but I really am fine, I promise.” Fine enough to get on with it.
The anticipation was killing her.
“Your hip?” He paused, and for a moment his attention zeroed in on her puckered nipples. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose, he murmured, “Are you hurt, Red? Tell me now and so help me, I’ll ease up, I swear.”