by Nicole Hall
“I’m not asleep,” she whispered.
Dax abandoned his plan to restore blood flow to his arm. “How are you feeling?”
She sighed and goosebumps raised in waves along his chest where her breath had touched him. “I’m tired and sore, like I didn’t warm up properly before a workout, but that doesn’t seem right.”
“I think your magic and some epic first aid from a friend helped speed along the healing.” He covered her hand with his, and to his relief, she didn’t pull away.
“How badly was I hurt?”
Her raw voice tore at him, but Dax didn’t want to pile his fears onto her. She wasn’t Beth. She’d heal and be back to torturing him with separate rooms in no time.
“Hard to say. Ana got to you first—she’s very limber. Once I found a way down, the bruises were already fading. Nothing broken, but you didn’t wake up. Not at first. Not until we’d made it back to the house.” Up until that last part, he’d nailed the neutral tone, but even he could hear the tension in his voice at the end.
She stroked him again, then twined their fingers together. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Apparently, he sucked at keeping his worries to himself. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You fell off a cliff.”
Her hair tickled him as she shook her head. “Something pushed me. You were right about someone watching us from the woods. I found a trail leading from the patio into the thick brush that someone had taken pains to hide.”
Dax frowned. “I checked for footprints.”
“There weren’t any. Calliope said something that made me think about the texture of magic. The way it feels different against my skin than it does inside me. I could feel the magic used along that trail to hide it.” Lindsey closed her eyes, and Dax wondered if she’d fallen back asleep. He stroked her hand, and she snuggled closer, tucking her face against his chest before she continued.
“I followed it to a ravine. Not too far down, but really steep. The trail disappeared as if whatever left it floated out into space. I was debating climbing down a little to see if I could catch it again when I was shoved from behind.”
She shuddered, and Dax fought to keep his touch light. He wanted to crush her against him as he remembered the mad rush into the woods with Ana. The breathless panic when he’d seen her halfway down that ravine in a heap.
“I felt you fall.”
Lindsey levered herself up to stare at his face, though he doubted she could see much in the darkness. “You felt me fall?”
“I found your shirt in the backyard, then a whoosh like I’d stepped off a ledge…then nothing.” Dax pulled her back down. “The nothing came across like white noise. Or like when a call is connected but no one speaks. You were there, but not.”
Lindsey wiggled around until she’d twined one leg over his, then sighed. “That’s new.”
“And useful.” Dax adjusted her knee down away from the danger zone, then caught himself before he stroked up her thigh. She’d asked him to stay, not fondle her, no matter how perfectly she fit against him.
“Do you feel it now?”
Dax’s brows rose until he realized she was talking about the connection, not her thigh. He took a second to seriously consider her question. The underlying link hadn’t disappeared completely, but the traces of thereness had abated.
“Not really. You think that was the bond Calliope keeps pushing?”
Lindsey lifted a shoulder. “Probably, but at this point I wouldn’t rule anything out. I keep thinking it’s a miracle I wasn’t seriously injured in that fall. Then I remind myself it was most likely something to do with magic that protected me.”
A visceral wave of possession urged him to stake a claim, but he clawed past it, fighting to keep his voice neutral. “Protecting you is supposed to be my job.”
She stiffened, barely noticeable but there. “I can protect myself.”
“That’s debatable. You wandered off in the woods alone without telling anyone where you were going, then let someone sneak up on you. What if they’d had a weapon?”
He expected her to get defensive and try to kick him out of the room, but all she did was sit up again so she could poke him in the chest with a finger. “Seeing as how I’m not a child, I’m allowed to wander the woods on my own.”
“I’m talking about basic precautions, not baby-sitting. I know you’re not a child.”
She poked him again, with more authority. “Prove it.”
The possessive urge churned up again, stronger than before. Dax captured her finger, and in a flash, reversed their positions. He braced his upper body on one arm, but his leg pinned hers to the mattress. The sleep pants he wore didn’t hide his reaction to having her underneath him. Her lips parted on a tiny gasp, and her hand twitched in his.
She could get him off of her if she wanted to—she’d done it before in practice, and all she had to do was ask. Dax didn’t intend to take the move any farther, not when the reason for his presence in her bed directly correlated to finding her unconscious. Lindsey yawned, reinforcing his resolve to prove his point and nothing more.
This situation called for full honesty. “I want to finish what we started in the bookshop, but I also want you to be one hundred percent not concussed when we do.”
Lindsey laughed. “That’s fair. In my expert opinion, I’m already one hundred percent not concussed. Before I get distracted again though, I should say thank you.”
Dax cocked his head. “For what?”
“Finding me, bringing me back here instead of the hospital…staying.”
Her breath shuddered out, and Dax recognized the need for reassurance. Lindsey had been vulnerable—still was to some extent—and she hadn’t expected him to follow through. She had thought she’d wake up alone in a hospital bed.
Dax was determined to keep proving her wrong. “That part was easy. It’s going to be hell getting me to leave.”
“So don’t.” Her teasing smile nearly undid all his hard work.
He traced a raised scratch across her stomach, sliding both their hands along her skin. “You’re much more lucid than earlier, but your body is still covered in marks from yesterday.”
“I believe we’ve already established that I’m fine, and I can make my own decisions.” She shifted her hips slightly, bringing him closer to her center.
Dax groaned, his body eagerly ready to take what she offered and his mind clutching at excuses. “Lindsey, we both need to rest.”
“I don’t want to rest. I want—”
He stopped her mid-sentence with a kiss. A slow exploration of her lips that he’d been dying to do since she’d whispered to him in the dark. Her fingers curled into his hair, but when she tried to pull him down, Dax held his weight off of her.
Lindsey dropped her head back onto the pillow. “This is some kind of torture, isn’t it? I’m being punished for winning the towel.”
He rolled to the side, pulling her back against his front with an arm around her waist and another under her head. “You won that towel fair and square, but the rematch will be a different story. Get some rest. You don’t have a chance if you can’t even stand on your own.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
Dax chuckled at her disgruntled tone. “I know.”
A couple of seconds ticked by, then Lindsey laid her arm over his and linked their fingers together. “Are you going to keep waking me up every hour?”
Dax buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the coconut scent that seemed to persist despite all odds. “Affirmative, and I’ll still be here in the morning.”
And every morning after, if he had his way.
9
Lindsey
Waking up to Dax curled around her in bed might be worth almost dying. Lindsey tended to sleep in a ball, a holdover from her youth, but this morning, she’d unclenched into a loose half-moon. Dax’s arm banded along her ribcage to hold her against him, and his body curved to match hers, which meant her ass snuggled right
up against his morning wood.
At some point in the many, many wake-ups during the night, he’d covered them both with the blanket. Lindsey tested her muscles, and though many of them were sore, none twinged in a way that indicated a problem. She was tired, but her head didn’t ache and her vision seemed normal when she finally blinked the room into focus.
Ugh, mornings were bright in her room. She could leave the bed to close the curtains, but Dax didn’t seem inclined to let her up. Instead, she rolled over and hid her face in his shirt. Lindsey inhaled and let out a contented hum. Dax smelled like warm, spicy cotton. Despite the attempted murder yesterday, she felt pretty good.
He sighed and wove his fingers through her hair, catching a tangle on his rough hands. Falling down a cliff wasn’t exactly conducive to smooth, shiny locks, especially since she’d tied it back for her work out before the little detour. Lindsey leaned down to sniff near her armpit, then wrinkled her nose. Dax smelled great, but she needed a shower.
Totally unfair, since he’d carried her out of the woods. She wasn’t small-boned, so he must have worked up a sweat. And yet…she breathed in deep. The bathroom offered a greater temptation than the curtains, but even the promise of clean pajamas wasn’t enough to draw her away from the warm, comfortable bed.
She intended to go back to sleep, but the hand in her hair trailed down her neck, her shoulders, and her bare back to flatten just above her shorts.
“Good morning,” he murmured in her ear. His rough voice sent shivers chasing across her body.
Lindsey tilted her head up and met his gaze, as sleepy and content as she felt, but with an edge of heat in the hazel depths. “Morning.”
“How do you feel?”
“Not like I fell off a cliff. A little soreness, but like I repeatedly said last night, I’m fine.” A lot of the wake-up time last night was a blur, but she remembered pushing him with those words. I’m fine…I can make my own choices…Prove it.
“Good to know.” His thumb stroked a line of fire across her lower back, and Lindsey struggled to pay attention to what he was saying. “Please don’t go off alone again. Especially now that we know the threat is real.”
“I can take care of myself.” Lindsey looked away. She remembered saying that the night before as well—something she’d always believed—but how true was it?
If Dax hadn’t come for her, would she still be lying in that ravine? Her hazy memories and bone-deep exhaustion indicated that yes, she’d have spent the night alone, half-unconscious, in the woods where someone had just tried to kill her. Or at least tried to cause serious harm.
Her hands twisted in the cotton of his shirt, and her heart sped at the helpless feeling she abhorred. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to take better precautions.”
Dax lifted her chin and waited until she’d given him her full attention before speaking. “We should all take better precautions. I didn’t fully believe Calliope when she talked about the gods. None of it sounded entirely real, and even touching the power in the seal didn’t convince me of the danger. We can do better. It sounds like whoever shoved you took advantage of a convenient situation, which indicates they don’t have a lot of magical power yet. They had the advantage of surprise, but now that we’re aware, we can more effectively protect ourselves.”
Lindsey nodded slightly, acutely aware of the tweaks in her muscles as she moved. “What did you have in mind?”
He traced her jaw with his knuckles, sending her heart racing for a different reason entirely. “I’m torn. On the one hand, I want to investigate and see if we can’t learn anything about your attacker. On the other, it’s hard to make another attempt if we never leave the bed.”
Lindsey had made her decision yesterday in the bookshop. She hadn’t wanted to use him, but willing, eager participation allayed that concern. As long as he didn’t start trying to put stupid limits on her, staying in bed sounded amazing. They could investigate later.
She smoothed her hand down his chest to slip under his shirt, bunching the fabric as she traced the grooves in his abs. “If we’re going to stay in bed, you’re wearing too many clothes.”
Heat flared golden in his eyes as he angled her onto her back. “That’s easily remedied.” He reached behind him to pull his shirt over his head, then tossed it across the room. “Better?”
Lindsey nodded as she spread her hands over all that glorious skin. Dax did some exploring of his own. His hand skimmed up the outside of her thigh, veering around to grip underneath when he reached the material of her shorts.
Need pooled low in her belly, and she maneuvered her ass closer in the hopes he’d keep moving upward, but Dax simply adjusted with her. When she trailed her lips across his collarbone, his fingers dug in, urging her legs farther apart.
She lifted a knee up next to his hip to settle him firmly between her thighs. His pajama pants did nothing to hide the firm length of him pressed against her core, exactly where she wanted him.
“So much better than the dream,” he murmured.
Lindsey searched his face. “You had dreams too?”
Dax dropped a biting kiss on her lips, then bent to nuzzle her neck. “Yeah, but I much prefer the reality.”
She snickered, embracing the moment and pushing aside the niggle of doubt. There’d be plenty of time later to examine the meddling of the Fates. “I’m sure the stench is a real turn on. I’m filthy. I should shower first.”
Dax rocked his hips forward, making Lindsey hiss at the delicious pressure. “Do I look like I care?” He pulled back with both brows raised. “Unless you want me to join you in the shower. It looks like it’s big enough for two.”
Lindsey feigned deep thought. “Nah. I’m good. Besides…” She arched up to whisper in his ear. “Sometimes I prefer filthy.”
She’d never bothered to tell that little tidbit to anyone before. Lindsey had always considered sex pleasurable, but not anything she couldn’t handle on her own. Certainly not worth the drama that came from getting involved with sexy, confident men. Dax was quickly proving her theory wrong.
He smirked and backed away from her, only to haul her to the edge of the bed. Quivers of anticipation stole her breath as he slowly removed her shorts while kissing his way down her legs. She sat up to peel off the gross sports bra, then yelped as Dax nipped her inner thigh.
Kneeling between her legs, he looked up at her and grinned as he took in her naked figure tangled in the sheets. Lindsey had never spent much time thinking about her body other than keeping it healthy and fit, but the appreciation on Dax’s face caused her stomach to clench.
He held her gaze and kissed the spot where he’d bitten her, then a bruise down a little farther, a scrape near her knee, a tiny scratch on her other leg. Soft and gentle, and not at all what she’d been expecting. Dax took his time and found every spot where she’d been hurt, ending at her mouth.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” He whispered the words against her lips, and the sorrow in his voice pierced her heart.
For perhaps the first time in her life, Lindsey didn’t immediately profess her utter capacity to take care of herself. He wasn’t maligning her abilities—more than anyone, he knew her skills. For once, instead of feeling defensive, she felt cherished.
The air conditioning blew cool air across her heated skin, and she shivered as she cupped Dax’s jaw, his stubble rough against her palm. She kissed him, not with fire or lust, but with a different kind of need. Lindsey needed him to know she cherished him too.
They breathed together, lost in each other, as Dax lowered her back to the bed. Before she’d had a chance to recover from the emotional barrage, he’d returned to his position between her legs. The slow, wet glide of his tongue nearly shot Lindsey off the mattress.
She whimpered as he expertly played her, and called out his name when the sensation became too much to bear. His smirk returned when she recovered enough to relax the fists she’d clenched in the sheets.
“M
y god, how do you do this to me? You’re still wearing pants, and this is already the best sex of my life.”
Dax chuckled against her stomach. “I can’t tell if that’s high praise or a really low bar.”
Lindsey buried her hands in his thick hair and tugged until he’d brought his talented mouth back up to her. “Both. It’s both.”
He shucked his pants and followed her as she scooted back on the bed. Lindsey pushed against his chest for a second, and he eased back with a frown until he realized she was reaching for her bedside drawer.
She rummaged around, thankful she’d planned for inevitably giving in, and sent him an eyebrow waggle when she emerged with a condom. Dax laughed and tried to snatch the packet from her, but Lindsey wanted the pleasure of sliding it on.
It was his turn to suck in a breath when she reached between them. His head dropped down next to hers as she teased him with leisurely touches. Dax growled into her ear, a rumble that sent lightning streaking straight to her core, and she rolled the condom on.
A quick flick of his fingers against her wetness, and he surged home. Lindsey groaned and locked her legs around him. Dax laced their fingers together and stretched her arms above her head as he moved, slowly at first.
Lindsey gripped his hands tight as the rhythm increased and she arched, straining up to meet him. He took her mouth in a deep, soul-delving kiss. Her eyes closed at some point, and Dax’s touch became her anchor to the world.
For a brief moment in time, she let go of her need for control. Dax’s hands released hers to lift her hips, and a riotous tension built inside her. Lindsey’s nails dug into Dax’s shoulder as her breath hitched. Waves of pleasure washed over her and starbursts exploded behind her closed lids.
Dax groaned against her mouth, then collapsed on her, gasping for air. Lindsey wound her fingers through his hair, struggling for breath herself. His arm tightened around her, and he kissed her neck under her ear. The sweet gesture caused another shudder. Apparently, she was sensitive there, and he’d figured it out before she had.