by Cate Beauman
Satisfied and ready for tonight to begin, she opened the door wider, tiptoeing to the phone and room service menu by the table at Jerrod’s side. She flipped to the entrées, perusing her options as she settled herself on the arm of the couch.
Jerrod’s eyes flew open, and he sat up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She studied his sleepy blue eyes and smiled. “I’m perfect. And hungry.” She held up the menu, wiggling it.
He scrubbed at his face and reached for her hand. “Let’s see what they have.”
She slid onto the cushion next to him, her arm brushing his as she opened the thin book in her lap. “I saw a spinach and gnocchi dish that sounds amazing.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Rabbit food.”
“The best stuff around.”
“I need a steak.”
“I think I’ll start with a shrimp cocktail.” Her eyes stopped on the desserts. “Oh, my. They have a triple chocolate pyramid.”
“You should probably get it.” He bumped her with his elbow.
She nibbled her lip, contemplating. “Will you share it with me?”
“Try and stop me.” He stood, picked up the phone, and dialed room service. “We’ll make the call before you change your mind.” He winked. “Yes. I’d like to place an order. I’ll take two shrimp cocktails, the spinach and gnocchi deal, the NY Strip—medium—and the triple chocolate pyramid.” He turned toward the window, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No, I think that’ll do it. Thanks.” He hung up, stretching his shoulders, letting loose a barely perceptible sigh as he turned back, meeting her stare, smiling again.
She narrowed her eyes a fraction, noting the strain behind his gestures as she glanced toward the coffee table, looking at his weapon. As much as she wanted to ignore reality and pretend tonight was theirs, she needed to know what was going on. Patting the cushion next to her, she gestured with her head. “Come on back.”
He sat down.
She snuggled up against his side and kissed his cheek. “How are you?
“Good.” He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
“You don’t seem fine.” She played with his fingers as she peeked up from under her lashes.
“I’m just a little tired.”
He held his body rigid, and his typically easy gaze was sharp and alert despite the quiet of their extravagant sixteenth-floor surroundings. There was more going on than sleep deprivation, but she nodded anyway. “The last couple of nights haven’t been very restful.”
“No.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.
She eased back, smiling, looking into his eyes. “Is there anything you wanna talk about, big guy?”
He shrugged. “Can’t think of anything.”
She traced his ear with the pad of her finger. “You seem tense.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I just need to catch a solid stretch of Zs.” He settled himself more comfortably against the cushion.
She moved her fingers to his clenched jaw. Jerrod wasn’t ready to talk, so they would move on—for now. “How about a shoulder rub?”
“This right here works pretty well for me.” He lifted his head, sniffing at her neck. “You smell good.”
“Thanks. She moved out of his grip. “Take off your shirt.”
He raised his brow. “Dinner will be here in twenty minutes.”
She chuckled. “Just do it.”
He tugged his t-shirt free of his jeans and pulled it off.
A rush of sexy tingles swarmed her belly as she tracked her gaze over the bumps and ridges of his mouthwatering torso. No matter how many times she touched and tasted his gorgeous body, she wanted more. Crawling behind him, she sat on the back of the couch, ready to rub her hands all over his skin. “Prepare to enjoy,” she said, squeezing his tight, solid shoulders.
He groaned. “God, that feels amazing.”
“Good.” She concentrated on the knots along his shoulder blades, then slid her fingers up and down his neck.
He moaned, letting his head fall forward.
She smiled as the muscles in his back unclenched by degrees.
“You have magic hands, Abigail.” He looked back at her.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“That’s what I was hoping for.”
“Mission accomplished.”
She moved from her perch on the couch and crawled into his lap, hooking her legs around his waist. “I like this.” She settled her arms around his neck. “Just the two of us again.”
“Me too.” He kissed her.
She drew back. “Why is it just the two of us? Why are we here instead of with your friends?”
He held her gaze, sliding fingers through her hair, sighing. “I wanted us to have a night away. You don’t seem very relaxed at the apartment.”
“I’m not, but I was managing.”
He arched his brow. “Barely.”
She shrugged. There was no use denying what they both knew. “There’s something about being there that makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.”
“So tonight we’re taking a break.” He traced the lapel of her robe, pulling her in for another kiss. “I talked to Ethan while you were in the bath. Stone’s coming tomorrow.”
“Stone?”
“He’s a little rough around the edges, but he knows what he’s doing.”
She’d met Jerrod’s co-worker a handful of times. He was handsome and gritty—like a dark prince—yet he didn’t make her uneasy the way Adam did. “Stone doesn’t bother me.”
“Good.” He nipped at her jaw with playful bites.
She glanced out the window, staring at Lady Liberty lit up in the dark as he skimmed his fingers along her jaw and down her neck. “We have a great view.”
“It’s pretty,” he murmured, snagging her earlobe. “We’ll have to take advantage of the telescope when the sun comes up.”
She closed her eyes, shivering, her skin humming beneath his heated breath and wandering hands. “Definitely.”
He gripped her chin between his thumb and finger, bringing her mouth to his, kissing her slowly, his tongue seeking hers, coaxing hers to dance at his unhurried pace.
She slid her palms along his shoulders, letting loose a purr as he took her deeper, pulling her closer as each dive of his tongue grew more urgent. She captured his bottom lip, tugging, suckling as her hands continued their journey down his pecs and over his stomach, enjoying the way his muscles jumped and tensed. She moved lower to the edge of his jeans.
“Abby,” he whispered, going still.
“Hmm.” She unfastened the snap and dipped her fingers into his boxers, brushing the tip of him, liking the idea of taking charge.
“Abigail, dinner will be here in a few minutes.”
She held his heated stare, biting her lip, smiling. “I guess I should probably get started then.” She untangled herself from his lap and got to her knees, settling herself between his thighs as she rained kisses over his chest, sliding her tongue down the line of his six pack, nibbling at the skin just above the elastic of his underwear. Tugging on his clothes, she pulled jeans and boxers past his hips, stopping mid-thigh. She traced him with her finger, then rubbed gently with her palm as she looked into his eyes. “I like touching you. I love the way you taste.”
He clenched his jaw, swallowing.
She sent him another slow smile and went to work, taking him deep, reveling in the heady satisfaction of his fingers curling in her hair and his sharp intake of breath.
“Abby,” he grit out.
She glanced up as she continued, gripping him in a tight hand.
“God, Abigail,” he hissed, closing his eyes, letting his head fall back as his thighs flexed with her steady up and down movements.
She changed her pace, slow, then fast, her reward his sharp, unsteady exhales.
“Abby,” he moaned, his hips rocking. “Abby, I’m going to come.”
She kept her pace steady as his frantic fing
ers clutched at her hair, urging her to hurry.
“God. Mmm,” he gasped, jerking as he let himself go.
She slowed, staring at him as he looked at her. “Did that work for you, big guy?”
“I’ll let you know when my eyes uncross.”
She smiled.
“I should—” Someone knocked at the door, cutting him off. He stiffened, automatically grabbing his gun, instantly on alert.
The easy moment was lost as she moved to the side and he stood, pulling up his pants, zipping his jeans closed. “Go ahead and wait in the bedroom for a minute.” He peered through the security hole, waiting for her to do as he asked.
She got to her feet and walked to the bedroom, shutting herself in slightly, watching through the crack as Jerrod secured his weapon in the back waist of his pants and opened the door. He made polite conversation while the waiter set up their plates and lit a candle in the center of the small table. Smiling, Jerrod signed the bill, his eyes cool and guarded the entire time. Something new was definitely up. She planned to have the whole story after their meal.
Jerrod let the man out, locking up after him as she stepped from the bedroom, breathing in the delicious scent of grilled meat and savory herbs, trying to ignore the sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She still longed for one normal night.
“Dinner smells amazing,” she said, wanting desperately to hang on to her illusions.
“It looks great too.” He shoved his wallet away.
She took his hand, walking with him to the table. “Should we eat?”
He tossed her a bland look, and she laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
They pushed in, picked up their forks, and she dug in, savoring plump shrimp and every sinful bite of spinach-stuffed gnocchi in a rich cream sauce, despite the silence in the room. She glanced Jerrod’s way several times, hoping to catch his eye as he cut bite after bite, but he was too distracted.
“Is it good?” he finally asked over a mouthful of steak and baked potato as she forked up the last dumpling.
“Definitely.”
“Good.”
She swallowed, wiping her mouth.
“Don’t forget your dessert.”
She pressed a hand to her bloated stomach. “I’m so full.”
“One bite?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He slid his fork through layers of smooth ganache, thick mousse, and the solid dark-chocolate bottom. “Open up.”
She took the piece, closed her eyes and let it melt on her tongue. “I think I could easily eat every bite.”
The dish touched her hand as Jerrod slid it her way.
“But then I’d be sick as a dog, so I’ll let you go after it, champ.”
“I’m always willing to help out.” He pulled the plate back and sampled. “Wow. This is amazing.”
“Everything was.”
Jerrod ate the last of the dessert and sat back in his chair. “I’m stuffed.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
He smiled. “It’s rare, but it happens.” Holding her gaze, he touched her hand. “This was nice.”
“Yeah.” Sort of. The food was delicious and their view amazing, but Jerrod was somewhere else, rolling through the motions of their ‘special night.’
“I’m going to hop in the shower. Why don’t you pick us out a movie?”
“I don’t want a movie.” She wanted to feel connected.
“I thought we could at least pretend.” He smiled again and stood. “I’ll shower up while your food settles. We don’t want any cramping in the bedroom.”
She grinned, hoping they were back on track. “Sounds serious.”
“Extremely.” He leaned over the table and kissed her. “Door stays locked. Don’t let anyone in. No one.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know the drill.”
“I’m just reminding you.”
“Check.” She made an exaggerated checkmark in the air.
He went to the bathroom, and she stood, walking to the bedroom, moving the shams to the foot of the bed, then pulled back the pretty navy toned comforter, sighing, struggling with her frustration. This sucked. She wanted one simple evening without guns and safety reminders. They couldn’t even be intimate without rehashing the rules keeping her alive. No matter where they were or how fancy their surroundings, she was still Lorenzo Cruz’s prisoner.
Picking up a pillow, she tossed it down with a huff and wandered back to the sitting area as the shower shut off. As she walked toward the bathroom, Jerrod’s cell phone rang. She stopped outside the door, listening, knowing she shouldn’t.
“…expect him around five-thirty. Just tell him to give this number a call. I’ll let the manager know to let him up. Great. No. I’ve been thinking about it though. I can’t think of much else. Adam likes to gamble. He’s gotten himself into some trouble in the past. I’m wondering if he got in over his head again. That’s the only thing that makes sense—if he actually has anything to do with this at all.”
Frowning, she inched closer. Adam? Was Jerrod’s best friend after her? And what about Shane? Had she and Jerrod been staying with the people who wanted her dead? She gripped the doorframe as her knees buckled and her stomach churned with the possibilities.
“…yeah. Later.” Jerrod opened the door, slamming into her, a long towel wrapped at his waist. “Whoa.” He gripped her arms, preventing her from falling over.
The scent of soap filled her nose as he held her close. “Is Adam part of the ring?”
He blew out a deep breath as he looked into her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“But he could be.”
“I don’t want to think so, but yes, he could be.”
“Why? What makes you say that?”
He took her hand, walking with her to the couch, pulling her to the cushion next to him. “Adam’s stories aren’t adding up. He told me the Task Force was actively running surveillance on Dimitri. This afternoon Shane told me they haven’t heard anything since November. I double-checked with Ethan. Task Force has no idea where he is.”
“You think Adam’s protecting Dimitri?”
“The idea crossed my mind. The Task Force almost had him twice, and they lost him at the last minute. Shane thinks he was tipped off. So do I. Adam was part of both attempted apprehensions.”
She pressed her fingers to her temple, trying to take it all in. “What about Shane?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure.”
She stood and walked to the window, unable to fully believe that this was actually happening. Was there no one they could trust? “What are we going to do?”
“Sit tight and wait for Stone to get here.”
“What about the trial? Adam knows who I am. He knows I’m the Prosecution’s star witness.”
He walked to her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “We’re going to get this figured out.”
“Before or after I’m dead?”
He turned her to him. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Abby. Nothing.”
“No?” Tears filled her eyes as hopelessness consumed her. “I used to tell myself that, and for a long time I believed it. Now I’m not so sure.”
“I won’t let anything happen.” He pulled her into a hug. “I won’t.”
She wrapped her arms around him and held on. “I hate this for both of us. I want a normal life. I want to be here in the city with you because we both love it. I want to be in this hotel for a romantic evening because that’s what we’ve chosen, not because we’re hiding from men who want me dead and will happily take you out as well.”
He eased her back. “We can still enjoy the city. It’s all around us. We can still have a romantic evening. Tonight’s for you, for us.” He kissed her lips. “Just for us, Abigail. Like the night at the farm.”
She stared into his eyes, wondering how many more nights they would have. Despite Jerrod’s assurances that everything would work out fin
e, she was beginning to wonder if either of them would make it out of this situation alive. The men they were supposed to trust—his friends—were potentially involved with the wrong side. They had tonight, but nothing else was guaranteed. “Take me to bed.”
He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and chin.
“Take me to bed,” she repeated as she pulled his mouth to hers as tears fell down her cheeks.
“Hey.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t give up on me.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Abby. In six months from now your Escape line will be running full throttle. You’ll be walking in and out of stores on your own. You’re just getting started.”
She rested her forehead on his chest, gripping her fingers against his towel, too afraid to hope.
“Abby.”
She couldn’t stem the flood of emotion.
“Come here.” He picked her up, carrying her to the bed, laying her down. He crawled next to her, settling himself at her side, stroking his fingers through her hair. “I thought you weren’t giving up on me.”
“Do you want children?” She blurted out of nowhere.
His hand paused, then kept moving. “Yes. Someday.”
“Alexa’s having a boy.” She sniffled as she thought of her sister, wondering where this was coming from. “She and Jackson are going to have the family she’s always wanted. Olivia and Owen. Their little girl and little boy.” Tears spilled again. “What if I don’t get the chance to have my own Olivia and Owen?”
“You might not. You might have two Olivias or two Owens. You never know what you’re going to get.”
She gave him a small smile. “I want a family, Jerrod. I want to have that chance.”
“You’ll get it.”
“You seem so sure.”
“I can’t let myself believe anything else. I can’t let you either.” He gripped her chin between his fingers, giving her a gentle shake.
“There’s a lot at stake.” She grabbed his wrist, holding on. “I want us both to be okay.”
