“Go get undressed. I’ll watch the bath for you.” He turned her and gave her a slight push toward her bedroom.
Missy took the reprieve as a chance to regroup. Hurrying to her room, she shut the door and leaned against it. T.S. was staying the night.
“Get a grip,” she muttered. He wasn’t sleeping with her. The man had been stabbed. Had stitches. He just needed someone to keep an eye on him for the night.
“Missy?” A heavy knock came on the door. “You okay?”
No, she wasn’t okay, but she wasn’t telling him that. She also wasn’t ready for him to be in her bedroom. Not now. Maybe not ever. “I’ll just be a minute.”
She shoved away from the door and began to strip off her dress. It went straight in the trash. Not only was the rip in a place that couldn’t easily be repaired, she knew she’d never be able to wear the dress again. Not with the memories attached to it.
She kicked off her shoes and stripped off her stockings, tossing them on top of her dress. Her underwear followed. She wanted no reminders of this night.
Missy’s hands were shaking as she pulled on her thick terrycloth robe and tightened the belt around her waist. Her bedroom was her oasis, done exactly as she wanted in shades of green and brown. Usually it relaxed her after a long day but tonight it seemed cold and empty.
She hurried to the door and yanked it open. T.S. was propped against the wall across from her. He should have looked ridiculous in dress pants and a hospital scrub top. Instead, he was dangerous. Tempting.
His shoulders were huge and his forearms thickly muscled. Even the white bandage wrapped around his upper left arm couldn’t detract from his air of danger. If anything it added to it.
His black hair hung loose around his shoulders and his golden-brown eyes watched her. His jawline was dark with stubble. He shifted his body, but his gaze never left her. “Ready for your bath?”
She nodded, not quite knowing what to say. The moment was so…intimate. Ripe with sexual tension. Her breasts tingled and she was damp between her thighs. She put her head down and brushed past him. She caught a whiff of male sweat and woodsy cologne and it made her pussy clench.
She started to close the bathroom door but his hand blocked her. “Don’t lock the door. Just in case.”
In case what? She certainly wasn’t going to call out and ask him for help. Not while she was wet and naked. Okay, skip that thought. The idea of T.S. seeing her in such a position didn’t exactly freak her out as much as she thought it would.
Her body heated from the inside out as though it liked the idea. Her skin felt flushed and sensitive. Even the air brushing over it felt like a caress.
T.S. finally stepped back and she shut the door. He’d found several candles and lit them. Missy liked the softer lighting and was glad not to have to bathe under the bright overhead ones.
Her bathwater was waiting. She dipped her fingers in and almost moaned. It was perfect. She removed her bathrobe and hung it on the back of the door before stepping into the tub. She groaned as she sank into the hot water. Leaning back against the edge, she finally let herself relax and soak away the tension of the night.
She still couldn’t believe she’d been attacked. If not for T.S.— “Don’t think about it.” She closed her eyes, determined to push those dark thoughts from her mind. A single tear slid down her cheek and she swiped it away. She was safe. That was all that mattered.
A slight sound made her eyes pop open. The door handle was turning. He wouldn’t…would he?
He did.
T.S. appeared in the doorway with a glass of wine in one hand. Missy curled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, trying desperately to preserve her modesty. “What are you doing? Get out of here?”
He ignored her protests and set the glass on the edge of the tub. “I figured you could use something to help relax you. You sip on that while I wash your back.”
“I don’t need anyone to wash my back.” Missy was mortified and half turned-on. She didn’t know whether to laugh at him or smack him. The man had some nerve inviting himself to stay at her apartment, taking it over and then barging in while she was having a bath.
“Sure you do.” He lifted the glass and brought it to her lips. “Have some. I found it in your refrigerator, so I know you like it.”
She sighed and gave in to the inevitable. Short of jumping out of the bath and pushing him out the door, he wasn’t leaving. And she wasn’t about to give up the slight covering sitting in the tub gave her.
She tugged the glass from his hand and took a sip, needing something to fortify her against T.S. The man was magnetic and tugged on all her suppressed longings. He made her want to jump his very sexy bones. He also wasn’t right for her. They were too different.
He was football and beer. She was the symphony and champagne. He was blue-collar. She was white-collar. He was rough and tough and had “bad boy” written all over him. He needed a danger label tattooed on his forehead.
Her childhood and adolescent years had been filled with blue-collared bad boys. Her father had been one in his youth and so were her brothers. They drank too much, didn’t consider anything beyond football to be cultural and often ended up in prison because of drunken brawls. She didn’t want that in her life. Had worked hard to leave it behind her.
Not that T.S. drank to excess. On the contrary, he seemed very controlled when it came to his consumption of alcohol. But they were different in so many ways. It didn’t make sense to start something that could only end badly.
Then there was the added problem of having their best friends married to one another. Any relationship between her and T.S. would be short-lived at best and then where would that leave them? They’d still have to see one another when they socialized with Candy and Lucas. It was inevitable. It would also be awkward and tense.
The glass made a clinking sound as he plucked it from her fingers and set it back on the side of the tub. He picked up a thick facecloth and dipped it into the water. He reached across her, his forearm brushing hers as he grabbed the soap from the dish. She watched his hands, calloused and strong, rub the soap on the cloth until he had a froth of bubbles.
“Lean forward.”
She really shouldn’t. She should tell him to leave. Deep down she knew he would if she truly protested. But did she really want him to go? The answer was surprising. No, she didn’t. She didn’t want to be alone.
She sat forward and buried her face against her knees. The cloth moved up and down her back, not just washing her skin, but massaging the muscles and working out the tension.
Gradually, she began to relax as the heat from the water and T.S.’ hands began to work their magic.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Lean back.”
As if in a dream, Missy slowly sat back. The move meant she couldn’t keep her legs tucked close to her chest. She was forced to cross her arms over her breasts. Which was stupid. He could still see the rest of her.
“Oh, babe.” T.S. sat back and rubbed the soap between his hands, working up a thick lather. “I always knew you were beautiful, but even my imagination wasn’t this good.”
There was no doubting the sincerity in his words and Missy was flattered in spite of herself. She’d never been one to fall prey to flattery, especially by men who called her “babe”. She hated cutesy nicknames. But for some reason it sounded sexy when it came from T.S.’ lips.
He rested his hands on her shoulders and began to work his way down her arms, stopping when he got to her elbows. He waited, not demanding anything. Missy slowly unlocked her arms and allowed him to continue soaping her forearms and hands. The action left her breasts totally bare.
The air was steamy and perfumed with the scent of soap and hot male. His actions were slow. Unhurried. As if he had all the time in the world and all he wanted to do was touch her.
His gaze settled on her breasts. They weren’t overly large, but they weren’t exactly small either. Her nipples tightened the longer he watc
hed. He reached for the soap and created a thick lather yet again. The bar of soap was dumped alongside her wineglass, forgotten as he worked his way down her collarbone, taking care to clean the scratches even though the doctor at the hospital already had seen to them.
Missy barely even noticed the slight sting. It was getting much harder to breathe. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. T.S.’ hands were getting closer to her breasts, not quite touching them.
She arched toward him. An involuntary action that felt totally right. She wanted his touch. Needed it to replace the feel of other hands reaching for her, groping her. He cupped the mounds, his thumbs circling but never touching her nipples.
She gave a soft cry of demand, of need.
“I love your nipples. They’re bigger than I suspected. Rosy-beige like I imagined they would be.”
It was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that T.S. had fantasized about her breasts. Right now she didn’t care what he thought. She wanted him to touch her.
He brushed his thumb lightly over the distended buds. Missy shivered and cried out, her legs shifting restlessly in the water. T.S. lightly pinched her nipples, stimulating them even more. She was surprised the water in the tub wasn’t boiling. She felt hot and needy.
Sex was usually fun and mutually pleasurable. It had never felt anything like this—hot, dangerous and out-of-control. Missy knew she should be frightened. Oh, not of T.S. He’d never hurt her physically. But of the intensity that seemed to exist between them.
She’d felt it from the first moment they’d met. It had simmered between them at each subsequent meeting, both of them doing their best to ignore it. She wasn’t looking for anything permanent. Not now. It wasn’t in her plan. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy this moment.
She wasn’t deluded. She knew this kind of attraction was rare. That made it very hazardous to her peace of mind, to her emotions. She could come to care for him way too much. And he was a loner. She knew from Candy that T.S. wasn’t the kind of man to settle down. That was fine with her. He wasn’t the type of man she wanted when she did finally settle.
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy what was between them. Stoke the heat that simmered and see what happened.
Missy knew her reasoning was faulty but she didn’t care. She could have easily died tonight. She might never have had the chance to explore the attraction between them. She wanted to embrace life, to celebrate the fact she was alive.
She needed this man. Right here. Right now. She’d deal with tomorrow when it came.
He cupped some water in his hands and sluiced it over her sensitized breasts. She whimpered. She needed more. Had to have more.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, T.S. lowered his head.
Chapter Five
T.S. moved as slowly as possible, giving Missy plenty of time to protest. He was surprised she hadn’t screamed her head off when he’d first entered the bathroom. She’d protested, but not overly much. He could tell she had mixed emotions about him being there, so he’d pressed his luck and offered to wash her back.
He inhaled, filling his lungs with air, her delicious scent mixed with the perfume of her soap. It was some floral thing, maybe lavender. Whatever it was, it made his dick hard because it was mixed with her unique fragrance.
Her skin was soft and silky and dark. He’d wanted to lick every inch of it from the moment he’d walked into the bathroom and seen her naked in the tub. He’d refrained. Barely. And now his patience was paying off.
Missy had superb breasts, round and firm and tipped with delicate nipples. Candlelight flickered off her wet skin. Her legs were long, her calves curved, her thighs strong. She was slender, but her hips were wide enough to cradle a man comfortably while he fucked her hard and long. Her waist dipped in slightly. Her torso was long. Which brought him back to her excellent breasts.
She was breathing faster now, which made them jiggle slightly. Her nipples were lighter against her darker skin. The contrast made his mouth water.
T.S. traced one large areola with his tongue. It tightened even more beneath his touch. She made a soft sound of pleasure, almost a purring that made his balls hurt. God, she was sexy.
Slender fingers slid against his scalp, burying in his hair, holding him in place. He dragged his tongue over her tender nipple and was rewarded with a breathy sigh. He cupped her other breast and ran his thumb over the distended nub. Missy arched into his touch.
She was so responsive. She was also emotionally fragile. She’d been through a lot tonight. A gentleman would tuck her into bed and walk away.
But he’d never claimed to be a gentleman and he had no plans to leave her.
He eased back, loving the sting of her nails against his scalp as she tried to keep him close. Her eyes were shut, her head tipped back and her lips parted. He had to taste those luscious lips again.
He licked her plump bottom lip, moaning in pleasure when her tongue touched his, inviting him to explore. Bracing his hands on either side of the tub, he lost himself in the kiss.
It was hot and wet and thorough. He left no crevice, no corner unexplored. By the time he pulled away, he was breathing hard. But he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.
Keeping his eyes on her face, he laid one hand on her stomach. The contrast of his olive-toned skin against her darker flesh was incredibly erotic. He watched her as he slid his hand downward, his fingers tangling in the dark curls covering her mound.
He waited for her to protest, to tell him to stop. Her thighs shifted, opening a tiny amount and T.S. thought his dick would explode. He’d never been so turned on in his entire life. That one little gesture of surrender made him feel like he was king of the world.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d want him for more than a good time. He understood what tonight was about. It was a mixture of adrenaline and emotions. The need to feel alive after facing such a dark moment. He ignored the slight pang in his gut, shoving it aside. He was fine with that. It was what he wanted. Sex. Right here, right now.
Using his fingers, he parted the slick folds of her pussy. Water lapped dangerously against the edge of the tub. The front of the ugly green shirt was soaked. Not that he cared. He planned on getting naked very soon.
But first he wanted to see Missy come.
T.S. stroked one finger over her clit. Her hips jerked, sending another small wave perilously close to the rim. She was restless, her hands gripping the top edge of the tub. Her skin glistened. She was a Siren, a mermaid, ready to lure him to his doom. And he was more than ready to be led.
He gently probed her opening, inserting the tip of his finger into her channel. Her low moan penetrated every cell of his body. Muscles tensed and swelled as his body readied itself to take her.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. The green scrub shirt clung to his chest and torso. The front of his pants was tented by his hard-on.
Neither of them spoke. It was as if they were afraid to do so. Afraid it would snap the tenuous thread that was binding them together. That was fine with him. He was a man of action. He had no pretty words or poetry to give her.
He pushed his finger inward, gritting his teeth hard when her cunt closed around it. Shit, that would feel incredible wrapped around his dick. He pulled back and this time a second finger joined the first. Her inner muscles tightened and then relaxed as he forged inward.
Missy was breathing heavy, her chest rising faster. Her fingers were pale where they gripped the tub. A sense of anticipation enveloped them.
He rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb, teasing the taut little nubbin as he eased his fingers in and out of her snug channel. T.S. watched Missy’s face. A small frown appeared on her forehead and he wanted to smooth away the lines with his fingers. She licked her lips and he had to fight to keep from coming. He vowed he’d have those lips wrapped around his cock someday. The appendage jerked in agreement with that plan.
Missy’s hips were rising to meet the thrust of hi
s fingers. His movements got faster and he pushed deeper, driving her closer to the edge.
A low moan broke from her. Her cunt constricted around his fingers. Her thighs clamped around his wrist. Her hips jerked. He felt the hot flood of wet heat as she came. So uninhibited. So damn beautiful. He watched until he knew he’d milked her orgasm for every last drop of pleasure.
Then he carefully withdrew his hand. His clothing was confining so he grabbed a handful of the cheap cotton fabric and ripped the shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the tile floor where it was immediately soaked by water that had overflowed while Missy had been coming. She’d thrashed around quite a bit at the end, sending a nice curtain of water over the edge and onto him.
He stood, ignoring the wet material clinging to his hips and thighs. He pulled the plug and the water began to drain from the tub. Missy’s eyes were wide open and she was watching him. He couldn’t quite read her expression. Mixed with the sexual satisfaction was something else. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important. Not now. The only thing that mattered was getting her into bed.
He reached down and all but lifted her from the tub. When she was standing on the tiled floor, he grabbed one of the thick, fluffy towels from the shelf and began to pat her dry, being very careful of the scratches just below her collarbone. Just seeing them made him angry. No marks should mar such perfect skin. It was wrong on so many levels. He leaned down and kissed the red marks.
“T.S.,” she began, her voice slightly breathless with arousal.
He didn’t want to give her a chance to think, to ask him to leave. He wrapped the towel around her and kissed her lush mouth. Without her high heels he was taller than she was. She didn’t move at first and he began to wonder if she was going to send him away after all.
He was just about to pull back when her lips moved against his and her body shifted closer. He eased away from her long enough to blow out the candles that were still flickering before returning to her. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he walked them into the bedroom, all the while kissing her.
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