Rush

by Beth Yarnall

  “It’s okay, really. Forget about it.” She scooted off of him, off of the bed. “Hey, you know what? I am starved.” She backed toward the bathroom. “Didn’t you say there was a Chinese place that delivers late?” She closed the bathroom door, ending the discussion she’d so stupidly started.

  Lucas leaned up on his elbows and watched her go with that same sinking feeling he had when Malcolm had told him what he’d found out about her. He flopped back on the bed. The lights from the city dotted ceiling, creating an artificial constellation overhead.

  What was she hiding? He scrubbed his hands over his face. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to tell him willingly, maybe never. He rolled up into a sitting position, hanging his hands between his knees over the edge of the bed. He stared at the door, willing it to open and for her to come out and confess all to him.

  Again he was tempted to call Malcolm and ask him to dig deeper into Mi’s background. He hated not knowing. Hated not being able to trust her. Hated that this situation reminded him of what he’d gone through with Vanessa.

  Fuck it all. Why couldn’t he pick women who were an open book? With nothing to hide, no reason to lie?

  He got up and took care of the spent condom. Washing his hands in the spare bathroom, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. She was right. He turned to examine the long line of scratches down his back. She’d left her mark on him in more ways than one. He leaned forward, one, two, three bite marks on his chest. Huh. He hadn’t felt them. Damn, she was a wild little thing. Frenzied and uninhibited, she’d knocked his world sideways. But it was the sharp contrast of her blunt honesty in bed and her secretiveness out of it that really threw him. What was he going to do with her?

  Thinking about her got him hard all over again. But he’d have to wait and in the meantime figure out some way to gain her unfettered trust.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lucas wasn’t sure which was more frustrating: the lack of leads on Doyle Gann’s whereabouts or Mi’s habit of moving his things around his closet just to see if he’d notice. He noticed. Then he’d move them back only to find she’d moved something else the next time he went in there.

  He couldn’t figure out what she’d done this time, but something was definitely off. He counted his shirts. All there. Pants. Check. Then he turned to the shoes. Damn it. One pair was missing. He rummaged around and finally found them at the bottom of the clothes hamper. Grinning like an idiot, he put them back on the shelf where they belonged. He actually liked this game of hers. What was wrong with him?

  Now that he’d figured out her trick of the day, he grabbed the pair of shoes he intended to wear and walked out into the living area. She wasn’t there, but the siren call of pancakes led him right to her, standing at the stove holding a spatula in nothing but an old t-shirt of his. It was so old and thin he could see through it, which was how he knew she had nothing else on. God bless cheap cotton.

  “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” he asked, making a show of checking his watch.

  It was Monday morning and they’d spent nearly all weekend in bed. But still, just the sight of her in that ragged t-shirt, her nipples clearly defined by the thin fabric, had him wondering what she’d do if he lifted her onto the counter top and stepped between her legs.

  “Crosby called while you were in the shower. The shipment that was supposed to come in on Friday, came in today and it was all wrong. They sent Davy to the warehouse in Fort Worth to pick up the missing products for tonight’s show. So we have another hour or so before we have to leave.” She flipped a pancake. “Hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Why don’t you get the plates and set them up at the bar?”

  “Sure.” He turned and left the room.

  “Ah, Lucas,” he heard her call after him. “The plates are in here!”

  He returned a moment later and reached past her to turn the stove off.

  “What are you doing? I wasn’t done cooking.”

  In answer he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his erection against her.

  “Are you serious? I have to leave for work in less than an hour and I haven’t even showered yet.” He nibbled her neck, his hands roaming north and south. She made that little sighing squeak sound he loved. “All right, but make it quick. And good. It better be good.”

  He found her already wet for him and moaned at the feel of her heat. He moved her away from the stove and lifted her onto the counter, wedging between her legs as he’d imagined. He slapped a condom down on the counter next to her and kissed her long and deep until she was squirming against him.

  “You’re a naughty boy,” she panted, giving him a playful whack on the backside with the spatula.

  He grabbed a fistful of her shirt in back and pulled it tight across her chest. Dipping his head, he captured her nipple in his mouth, sucking through the thin cotton. She gasped, and reached for the fastening of his pants as the spatula clattered to the floor. She managed to get both hands on him, stroking him. She spread a bead of moisture across the tip with her thumb. He patted the counter blindly, searching for the condom, his mouth now at her other breast.

  “Looking for this?”

  He broke away to find her twirling the condom between two fingers. He reached for it.

  “Nuh-uh. I’ll do it.” She bit the edge of the foil and tore slowly, a naughty glint in her eye.

  Damn, she was hot.

  Using her feet she pushed his pants down where they pooled at his ankles. She scooted to the edge of the counter. “Now hold real still. I want to make sure I get this on just right.”

  He widened his stance, gripping her thighs for balance. She made a show of getting the condom on right side up, faking a couple of false starts. He shifted his feet, watching her every move. She turned it one way, then the other swirling it over the crown, teasing him. She used both hands to roll it all the way down, slow as if she had all the time in the world. Wrapping both hands around him, she smoothed up then down, up, then down…

  “It’s on,” he bit out.

  “Just making sure.” She blinked up at him all wide innocent eyes.

  Two could play at that game.

  “I’m ready. Are you?” He asked, sliding a hand up her thigh. Gliding a finger across her slickness, he pretended not to notice how incredibly ready she was. Her breath caught, her fingers flexing on his shoulders. “No. Hmm. Maybe if I did this.” He used two fingers on her, scissoring over and around, but not quite doing what she needed.

  “Oh, God, yes. That. Do that. Faster.”

  “Faster?” He sped up just a little.

  Wrapping her legs around his, she panted and arched her back. Reaching out, she grabbed a cabinet knob with each hand. “In me now.”

  “I don’t think you’re ready,” he rasped, nearing the end of his control. He shoved her shirt up, pinning it to the cabinet over her shoulder. He licked the exposed nipple.

  Her breathing grew rough, but still he held her right on the edge. He varied the rhythm, playing with her, never letting her get too close to coming. He wet her nipple with his mouth, but didn’t suck.

  “God, damn it, Lucas. Do it now. Please.”

  That did it. He withdrew his fingers from her, grabbed his dick, and thrust hard. She gasped at the intrusion. He pumped into her, holding her still with both hands. She chanted his name, but he knew she wasn’t quite there… he bent his head, sucked her breast, flicked the nipple, and she cried out. His orgasm slammed into him, weakening his knees. He held onto the counter, afraid he’d crumple to the floor and take her with him.

  Her head flopped forward against his chest. He curled around her and they held each other as if they were the only survivors of a shipwreck.

  “Okay, that was good.”

  He let out an exhausted laugh. “Glad to be of service.”

  “But if you don’t let me up I’m going to have to tell Crosby why I’m late.”

  He looked down to where they were joined
, then pulled out slowly. He always hated leaving her.

  She watched too. “I still have no idea how you fit. I thought for sure you were going split me in two that first time.”

  “I hurt you?”

  “A little,” she confessed.

  “What?” His head jerked back as if he’d been punched. “Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It had been a long time for me and I didn’t know it would hurt that much.” She shrugged it off. “I lived and we went on to have some pretty spectacular sex. It was worth it. Don’t you think?”

  “No.” He bent over and pulled up his pants. He remembered that second time when he’d practically taken her without her permission. He’d been rough, thinking only of his needs. His stomach knotted, he thought he might be sick.

  He didn’t know where to look, what to do. “Do you still… does it still…”

  She clasped a hand around his wrist, shackling him in place. “No.”

  He looked down at their hands his so much bigger than hers and swallowed back the bile. He knew what damage big hands could do. “That second time—”

  “I was sore at first and then, well, it was really good.” She smiled. “I forgot all about the pain.”

  He moaned and turned his head away as though her pain was his. He couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting… because of him. Vanessa’s last words came back to him. You’re a shark, cold and flat, taking bites out of people until there’s nothing left.

  Pulling out of her grip, he backed away, unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t want to be like that. He’d worked so hard not to be that.

  “Lucas—” She reached for him.

  He put a hand up. “Please, don’t.” Self-loathing, his old friend, burned a hole in his gut. He could hardly get the words out. “If I ever… you have to promise me…”

  “Anything.”

  He would have to work harder, he told himself. And if he failed… he couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. His voice strengthened with his resolve. “You have to tell me.”

  Mi struggled to understand. “Okay.”

  He went to her then, looking down at her with eyes full of earnest anguish that pierced her chest. Had she done this to him?

  “You tell me if I hurt you,” he said. “I need to know. Promise me you’ll tell me.”

  “I will.”

  “Don’t wait. Not ever again.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  He nodded and stepped away. She watched him go, wanting to kick herself for her stupidity. What had she done?

  *****

  Lucas kept his distance from her as though he didn’t trust himself. The whole time Mi was getting ready to go to the studio, she went over in her head everything that had happened between them, especially what had happened in the kitchen. She didn’t understand why he was upset. She had known he was worried about how much bigger and taller he was than her, but she thought he’d gotten over it. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. His reaction... the look in his eyes… agonized.

  She sneaked a peek at his profile. He was focused on the road, a wrist resting across the top of the steering wheel, his other hand absently rubbing his thigh. He tended to do that when he was thinking. She’d seen the scars there and although he’d brushed them off as no big deal, she had a feeling they went much deeper than the shiny, gnarled skin.

  They turned onto the street for the studio. The sound hit them, like a blast in the face, chants of morality and family values. Picket signs swayed in time to the beat, the faces distorted into masks of hatred and intolerance. The crowd had doubled yet again in size and lined both sides of the street. Barricades had been placed to keep people off the street. The few protestors who broke through them were quickly shoved back by Cal’s security guards.

  Lucas tensed, transforming into what Mi called his defender mode. He sat up straighter, his gaze constantly scanning the mirrors of the truck and the area around them. Tightening his grip on the wheel, he pulled his gun and laid it across his lap. “Get down,” he ordered.

  She was already folding herself into the small space under the dashboard before the words had left his mouth. Squeezing into a tight ball, she closed her eyes, her hands automatically covering her ears. “I pledge allegiance to the flag…” She didn’t know how many times she recited it until she finally felt Lucas’s hand on her arm.

  “Come on out of there,” he said, concern raking lines in his forehead.

  He didn’t joke it off as he’d done the last time. Instead he drew her into his arms, hiding his face in the side of her neck as though he was the one who needed comforting. She hugged him hard. His heart beat wild and erratic against hers.

  A knocking on Mi’s window broke them apart. They turned to find Cal smirking at them. His honey stood just behind him, tapping on a laptop tablet she held like a clipboard. Lucas got out of the truck and came around to Mi’s side. He opened the door and helped her down.

  Cal kept quiet, assessing their every move with cool blue eyes that missed nothing. “Good morning,” he finally said. “Have a pleasant weekend?”

  “Your crowd control is barely holding,” Lucas replied over his shoulder as he escorted Mi into the building with a hand on her back.

  Cal followed, as did his honey, the click-clack of her high heels echoing off the walls of the hall.

  “I know,” Cal said, his tone flat and rigid. “We need to talk.”

  Mi ducked into the make-up room so Lucas and Cal could speak privately. Tracey was already there, looking annoyed. “Where have you been?” She gave Mi a look that said she knew exactly where Mi had been and what—or rather—who she’d been doing.

  Mi bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to snipe back. Her tolerance for Tracey’s attitude toward Lucas was wearing thin. “What exactly is it about Lucas you don’t like?”

  Tracey wandered over to the makeup counter and busied herself rearranging the items on top. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Mi put a hand on Tracey’s, stilling her movements. “Yes. You do.” She gave Tracey’s hand a gentle squeeze, drawing her friend’s attention. “Why don’t you like him?”

  “I never said I didn’t like him.”

  “Then what’s the deal?”

  “He’s… scary.”

  “Lucas? Are you serious?”

  Tracey nodded. “He scares the crap out of me. I don’t like that he comes here every day with you. And since I’m being honest, I don’t really believe he’s your boyfriend.”

  Mi wasn’t too sure what she and Lucas were, what label to put on it, but boyfriend and girlfriend fit as good as any for now. Whether or not they would stay together after this forced involvement she wasn’t sure. When they were alone she could pretend they had a future, at least until her brother showed up or her mother called.

  “He’s in my life. He’s important to me. Please try to understand and respect that,” Mi said with a quiet bid for her friend’s approval.

  “So you really are together?”

  “Yes. We are.” For now.

  “Oh. Well, okay then. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” Mi pressed Tracey’s hand one last time, then sat down to get ready for the show.

  Tracey started work on her hair. They made small talk about the show, Tracey’s new apartment, and other things, but the specter of Tracey’s disapproval hung over their conversation. Mi wondered if her friend would get over her trepidation once she got to know Lucas or if it even mattered since he might not be around once the threats against her were resolved.

  Mi put thoughts of the future and Lucas aside to focus on preparing for the show. There had been some changes to the lineup of products she’d be featuring for the show that would air tonight. Something about marketing and the all of the publicity the protesters were garnering for the show. They’d added a few more high end products to boost the show’s sales numbers. Usually they promoted these products around holidays. There were a few new ones Mi wasn
’t familiar with, so she took a few moments to fiddle with them, learning how the switches worked. She jotted notes about a couple of them on her cards.

  Just before they were set to begin taping, Davy rushed over and switched out a standard vibrator that usually sold well for one Mi had never seen before. “I guess this one just came out. It’s called iLuv. It’s Internet enabled. Here’s the card.” He handed her the new vibrator’s information card.

  “Thanks, Davy.”

  “Sure.” He started to step off the stage, then turned back with a shy smile. “Hey, I just wanted to tell you how pretty you look today, Miss Mi.”

  She blinked up at him, surprised.

  “I don’t mean nothing by it. I know you’re with that big guy and all. I just wanted to tell you that you look real nice. Happy. It’s good to see you happy.”

  “Thank you, Davy.”

  “Okay, well… have a good show.” He put up a hand in wave.

  She stared after him a moment, then with a small smile and shake of her head returned to the cards in her hands.

  “Two minutes!” Crosby barked.

  Mi examined the new vibrator, reading the features off the card. She tried to get it to work, but it wouldn’t. She looked around for Davy. She found him sitting at a table, hunched over a laptop in a far corner of the studio.

  “Hey, Davy! This isn’t working,” she told him.

  “I know.” He gave her a bashful grin. “I’m going to work it from this laptop.” He hit a command and the vibrator’s clitoral stimulator buzzed to life.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Mi gushed. “That is so cool. Make it do something else.”

  He tapped a couple more keys and the shaft thrust up and down.

  “We have got to synchronize this to the sales pitch,” she said. He came over and they worked out a few prompt words that would match with computer commands from Davy.

  “Let’s go people. Places!” Crosby announced.

  Tracey ran up onto the stage to give Mi one last pat with the powder puff. Then the countdown started and taping began.

  Mi gave her usual introductory speech and then launched into the products she’d be showcasing today.