by Karen Renee
“You are not sleeping in a bra tonight,” Vamp said, putting his knee on his side of the bed.
I looked away from my Kindle and into his eyes. “Yes, I am. That way I –”
“You are not sleeping in that bra tonight.”
My temper was flaring again. “I heard you the first damn time. I will sleep in whatever the hell I want. And I want to sleep in my bra so I don’t have to deal with it in the morning.”
“Meaning?”
“Are you dense? Meaning so that I won’t have to put a new bra on the bed, clasp it, then wrestle my way into it in order to get dressed in the morning.”
His knee on the bed became two knees, with one hand planted into the bed on my right side and his other hand on my left side. His face was inches from mine, and his eyes were intent on mine.
“That scum sucker has you jumpy and twitchy in your own damn home. He does not get to make you even more uncomfortable in your own home because you’re going to sleep in a fuckin’ bra. I’m serious, Rainey. You stand up, turn your back to me, I whip your camisole off, then your bra, and then I help you put your cami back on. I see nothing, and I do nothing but help your stubborn ass. Do it. Now.”
He was right, I hated wearing my bra any longer than absolutely necessary. But, I didn’t want to admit that he was right. Yet, I also didn’t want to let Mark Stillman cause me any more discomfort. I glared at Vamp.
He moved his left arm, and tilted his head toward the side of my bed. I threw my legs to the side of my bed and stood with my back to him. He climbed off the bed and came around behind me. His warm fingers grazed my waist as he grabbed the hem of my top. He let out an irritated growl when the bandages on my ribs came into view. I lifted my arms, and the cami was gone. Then, my breasts were free of the confines of my bra. Bliss. I lowered my arms and Vamp slid the shoulder straps down gently. I heard him put the bra on the bed. Once Vamp had pulled my camisole back in place, he put his hands on my waist and turned me around.
“Was that really so hard?” he asked, smirking at me.
Standing so close to him, I could smell him. He smelled like deodorant soap and fresh air with a hint of leather. His unique scent flooded my mind with memories: riding down to Daytona for Biketober Fest, trips out to Fernandina Beach, and staying at a bed and breakfast there. I shook my head as both a response to his question and to rid my mind of the nostalgia. He gave me a chin-lift and moved back around the bed.
I climbed back in bed, and put my Kindle on my nightstand. I was done. This day needed to end.
“Night, Vamp,” I said, after a yawn.
“Night, babe,” he said, and then he turned off the light.
I was lying on my side, turned away from him, but just as I was feeling sleep overtake me I felt Vamp’s warm hand rub back and forth over my bottom. He used to do that every night when we lived together. Even if he came in extremely late from a club run, or whatever other club business he was doing, he would rub my ass affectionately and tell me good night. I wanted to swat at his hand, but I was so comfortable, it just wasn’t happening.
“Sleep well,” he whispered.
CHAPTER 4
My alarm blared at half-past-five, as usual. I reached out with my casted right hand, and, again, had to stop midway through a mundane task. Then I leaned up on my right elbow to use my left hand to turn off the alarm.
A rumbly voice punctuated the silent air, “Christ, Rain. Still with the alarm clock that rivals the stabbing background music of Psycho, really?”
That was the second time he called me by some version of ‘Rainey’ in the past eight hours. If he did it again, I would have to shut him down, without fail. It was too much to hear that raspy voice, let alone hear his voice calling me ‘Rain’. God, but I used to love that from him.
I rolled out of bed and gathered some underwear and a bra from my dresser. I padded into my walk-in closet, turned on the light, and heard Vamp groan from the bed. Then I heard the sheets rustle and another groan. I turned to look at the bed, but Vamp had buried his head in order to block out the light. You should go pounce on him and tear the covers from his head. Gah! I had to stop those wayward thoughts. Six years ago, that might have been what I would have done, to start the day off right, but no way could I do that now. Last night was an anomaly. I turned back to my closet to pick out something to wear to work.
I heard the sheets moving again, then a groggy “Babe, pick what you actually want to wear today. I will help you get into it after you’re done in the bathroom.”
I shot him a look and returned to trying to figure out what to wear. I had a baby-doll dress in a springtime floral pattern, but there was no way my cast was going to fit through the narrow sleeve holes, so that was out. I decided on a sleeveless, black maxi-dress with red roses on it; I could put on a black blazer to contend with the freezing temperatures of my office. I went in the bathroom and showered. Half an hour later, I was in my underwear and clasping my bra on the countertop, when there was a knock on the door.
“I’m serious about helping you, Rainey. You gettin’ dressed, now?”
I shook my head at my reflection, but said, “I am, but I’ve got it."
The door swung open as I had my arms over my head and was trying to get my hands into the bra. I slid furious eyes to Vamp’s reflection in the mirror. He was behind me, standing just inside the doorway. He was wearing pajama pants and no shirt. His nipples were still pierced, but he had additional tattoos scattered over his sculpted pecs and his muscular abdomen.
His eyes closed and he hissed, “Fuck.”
“Get out,” I said, as calmly as I could.
Vamp’s eyes were still closed and I thought he might just backtrack, but I thought wrong. His eyes opened, he spun me around at my waist and yanked me to him. We were skin-to-skin from the waist up. Suddenly the bra was gone and he gently lowered my arms to my sides. Feeling his familiar heat on my breasts and his hands on my arms was making me feel another kind of heat, in a very private place. Then his forehead came down and rested on mine. With closed eyes he bit out, “I am helping you.”
I had my eyes trained on his closed eyes. “I’m not an invalid. I can do this for the next six weeks or whatever.”
His eyes opened and blazed at me, “Didn’t say you were an invalid. I am helping you. Turn around, baby.”
“Don’t call me ‘baby’,” I snarled.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” He paused when I growled at that comment. “I can’t help it. You’re half-naked, and look ten times better than you did six years ago, which I never would have thought could happen. Turn the fuck around so we can get your ass dressed, and then I can battle a supreme case of blue balls.”
I gave him my harshest glare, but did what he said. I knew from experience that arguing would get me nowhere with him. Five minutes later, I was standing in my maxi dress and watching Vamp’s lips press together in a thin line. I looked down and caught sight of the bulge in his pajama pants, and immediately had to look back up. Now my lips were pressed together, because I was fighting the laughter threatening to bubble out of me.
Vamp’s eyes narrowed at me. “Normally, I don’t like these fuckin’ long-ass dresses, but then again, you could wear a potato sack and still set my balls on fire. Now, stop tryin’ not to laugh at me, and if you’re done in here, get outta this bathroom.”
I tilted my head. “Bossy, much?”
“Nice to your guests, much?” he volleyed back.
“You’re not –”
I stopped speaking because Vamp’s hands gripped my cheeks and his face came closer. “Get outta this bathroom, or that attitude is gonna get you kissed until you’re mindless.”
The thoughts in my head were so contradictory I thought my head might explode. My strong sense of self-preservation had eroded, or maybe it hadn’t been kickstarted with my daily dose of caffeine. I licked my lips and Vamp’s face came marginally closer. That was when the contradictions melted, and I pulled back entirely.
> “Yeah, uh, I’ll get you a towel if you’re going to take a shower.”
“Just leave it by the door, woman.”
I scurried to the front hallway where there was a linen closet next to the half-bath. Between Vamp’s declaration that I could set his balls on fire and his comment about “supreme blue balls”, I could all too well imagine what he was doing in my shower. Trying to keep those thoughts and evocative images out of my mind, I trotted back to my bathroom as quick as I could. Just after I put the navy-blue towel on the floor, I heard Vamp cry out.
“Motherfucker! God damn it to hell! What the fuck! Shit! That’s cold as hell!”
My water heater wasn’t known for heating water quickly. The tank didn’t hold that much water to begin with, and my injury naturally forced me to take longer showers, since everything took longer one-handed. Consequently, Vamp was on the receiving end of an empty hot water heater. I tried, I really tried, to hold back my laughter and giggles, but I had just put the towel on the floor, and my mirth was audible, to say the least. I felt certain it was loud enough that Vamp could hear it over the shower, if the shower was even still on. God knew, if I were in that tub, I’d turn the faucet off with lightening quickness in an effort to stop the ice-cold water.
I hurried away from the doorway, and went to the kitchen to start coffee. I didn’t have to wonder long if Vamp had heard me laughing at his plight, because five minutes later when he strode into the kitchen, he announced, “You’re becoming a real pain in my ass, chick.”
I couldn’t hide my grin when I asked, “You sure that’s the part of your anatomy I’m inflicting pain upon?”
His eyes narrowed at me, “Smart ass. Pullin’ a prank like that.”
He was wearing a skin-tight black t-shirt promoting the Red Hot Chili Peppers with black jeans and his motorcycle boots. I wasn’t sure if it was his overall bad-boy vibe or what, but he was supremely hot in his clothes. I was thinking it should be a criminal offense for a man to look that good in such simple clothing.
“Prank?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
“Right. Like you didn’t flush a toilet on me,” he said, with his blue eyes narrowed at me.
“Uh, no. It takes a long time to wash hair one-handed, plus having a bag on the other hand makes that task nearly impossible. My hot water heater isn’t that big, either, and it may or may not be going on the fritz. Sorry, it didn’t even occur to me until I heard you yelling in the shower.”
Vamp’s jaw clenched and he looked away from me. “I really should have beat the ever-loving shit out of that asshole last night. Fuck. I’ll have Patch take a look at your water heater.”
“No. No, you will not. I don’t have time for plumbing appointments here at the house, and I’ve got to get to work soon,” I declared as I poured a generous cup of black coffee and put the carafe back on the coffeemaker burner.
I had a second mug sitting on the counter, and Vamp grabbed it. Then he poured himself a cup, moved to my fridge and pulled out my milk. He poured a large amount into his mug and said, “Gimme a key. I’ll follow you to work, pick up Patch, and we get it done.”
Now I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why on earth do you need to follow me to work? The building is secure. Stillman isn’t going to get at me there.”
Vamp swallowed a sip of his java and asked, “Your parking lot secure? You got a locked gate to keep his ass out?”
I rolled my eyes, but he continued, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Remember what I said last night? I go where you go. Not gonna let him fuck with your head in a parking lot, and he knows where you work, so that’s not some far-fetched notion coming from me.”
I shook my head and declared, “I don’t want you to have to drive out of your way just because I have to drive to work on the Westside.”
He set his cup down on the counter and started moving toward me. “Hon, I got my brother’s old lady’s car, and he’d prefer she drive her own car and not his Mustang fastback. I’m gonna have to drive over to the Westside any damn way.”
He was standing directly in front of me, but there was still a good ten inches of space between us. His arms went to either side of me and his hands rested on the counter behind me. He had boxed me in and it was too early in the morning for me to figure out why he would do that. His closeness was throwing me off and making me nervous.
I pursed my lips before I said, “Well, be that as it may, someone else –”
I didn’t get to finish my statement because his lips descended on mine, and his tongue swept into my mouth. He tasted like coffee. I didn’t kiss him back. That was partly because I was not fully-awake yet, and it was also because I was stunned. I had forgotten how excellently this man could kiss me. I had a hard time not kissing him back and keeping my hands at my side. I desperately wanted to reach up, cup the back of his head and pull him closer to me. I had missed him so much, and suddenly I felt those latent feelings bubbling up from the depths of my heart. My sense of self-preservation kicked in, though, and I managed to tear my lips away from his mouth.
My breath was distinctly ragged, and the look he was giving me was piercing.
I started to speak, but Vamp got there before me, “There is no ‘someone else’ to follow you to your office. I’m takin’ care of this shit.”
That statement threw me off my impending rant.
“Excuse me?” I asked reflexively.
“Ain’t speakin’ Swahili, baby. I’m takin’ care of this shit. All of it. You may not have kissed me back like you used to do, but I could feel you holdin’ back on me. You want this. You think about me. I fucked up. I’m sorry about that. I need to earn your respect again. I’m gonna do everything I fuckin’ can to get that respect back. Once that’s done, I’m gonna convince you to give us a second chance. We owe that to each other. I fucked up, but don’t add to my fuck-up by turnin’ a cold shoulder on all that we once were, and all that we could have in the future.”
I closed my eyes in a long blink. It was an attempt at stalling and at keeping my cool.
Opening my eyes, I said, “One kiss does not mean anything. How about I take care of my own shit?”
Vamp moved closer to me, so there were only four inches separating us. “I am taking care of it. It’s not your shit to take care of anymore, baby. This asshole is gonna learn not to fuck with you or any other woman. Your hot water heater is going to get upgraded, and upgraded today. Now, you gonna be stuck in that stuffy-ass headquarters building all day or what?”
I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to throw down my best attitude and put him in his place, but I knew that would only result in him taking my mouth again. I may not have kissed him back, but he was completely right. I was holding back, and my hold was no more than a thin thread. He wants a second chance! That silly wayward thought made a spark of hope flare inside me. I couldn’t let that spark catch fire, though. I knew about him, and I had to protect myself from his brand of heartbreak.
I decided to answer his question honestly. “No, I won’t. Reg and I are doing lunch in order to compare notes on Saturday’s open house and make sure we both have all the decent leads we can get. After that, I’ll be at the 103rd Street branch for a two-thirty appointment.”
Vamp nodded slightly, but his words set me on edge. “Have Reg pick you up for lunch. Then either Cal, Blood, or I will pick you up from headquarters for your meeting.”
My eyelids expanded around my eyes and I barked, “I will not.”
Vamp’s eyes grew larger, but I continued in a calmer tone, “I will ‒not‒ live my life in fear of this monstrous asshole. I will drive myself to lunch and I will drive to the branch. End of.”
Vamp was close enough to me that I was able to watch his nostrils flare as he took in an extremely deep breath. “Not ‘End of.’ Your safety is paramount, woman. If something happens to you because I didn’t do everything I could to keep you safe, I won’t forgive myself. It already happened to Mallory. Even though she and Cal both say it wasn’t my fa
ult, they are wrong. My every instinct tells me you haven’t seen the last of this fuckwad, and I’m not ignoring my instincts anymore.”
I glared at him. “I’m driving myself.”
He shook his head.
“I am,” I repeated.
He looked to the kitchen sink beside us. I thought he would take a step back and be done with our conversation.
Just like earlier in the bathroom, I thought wrong.
His right hand shot out and his fingers were suddenly in the hair at the nape of my neck. His left hand went behind my waist, and he jerked me the remaining four inches toward him. I felt his lips smash into mine and his tongue drove into my mouth. The thread holding me in check snapped, and I kissed him back with everything I had.
I had a lot, by the way.
I had missed him. I thought about him frequently, far more frequently than I should have allowed myself. I was angry with him, and not just for breaking my heart so many years ago. I was angry about the pushy demands he was making of me. I also kissed him out of gratitude. Not that he would necessarily know that. I was so grateful that he followed me home, and insisted on staying by my side.
With all of these thoughts and emotions as I kissed him, instinctively my left hand flew to his head. Luckily, I remembered not to move my right hand. A cast to the back of the head would have definitely killed the moment.
With that disastrous, but also hysterical thought in mind, when Vamp pulled away from me, I was grinning. Then I giggled as I dropped my left hand from his head.
His gaze became critical, and he asked, “What’s so damn funny?”
I looked up to him and said, “I was thinking how lucky it is I didn’t try to grab the back of your head with my right hand, since a cast to the head would definitely kill the moment.”
