Boundless

by Annie Dean

  She grasped his hand and allowed him to pull her up. With a smile, she removed his jacket and handed it to him. He wordlessly accepted it from her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and nuzzled his chest. He groaned, dropped his jacket on the floor, and put both hands on the cheeks of her ass to drag her against him. He held her for a moment before letting her go. She looked up at him with bemusement in her eyes.

  “Go take a shower,” he muttered thickly. “I'll take one after you.”

  The tip of her pink tongue peeked out to touch the corner of her mouth. “Why don't we take one together?”

  Jack felt all the blood rush down from his head to plump up other portions of his anatomy. Taking a deep breath, he forced a forbidding look on his face. He could do this. He could be the good guy for once. While stoically standing by as she’d tried on different dresses in front of him, he’d made the decision not to touch her until the two of them got to the bottom of all the weird shit that had been happening. He could do this.

  “Kitty…” he said through gritted teeth. “Just go.”

  She responded with a saucy wink before turning on her heel to head for his bathroom. Halfway there, she paused, peeked over her shoulder at him, and slowly peeled off her robe, dropping it on the floor. She smiled wickedly at him, then walked on, having ensured that his attention was riveted on her naked back.

  Jack did not budge from his spot until he heard the shower running. It wasn't like he was in any condition to move, anyway, as his erection was pressing painfully against his thigh. He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. Being a good guy was a pain in the ass.

  Fetching a garbage bag from the kitchen, he began to pick up the trash in his immediate vicinity. By the time he was finished, he had filled up three giant garbage bags and the apartment smelled a little better. The next thing he tackled was the dirty dishes piled mountain-high by the sink. He couldn't even remember the last time he did the dishes, but since he had resorted to eating on paper towels or straight out of a can about two months ago, it was probably about that long. It would explain the funky rotten food smell that attacked his nostrils each time he walked into his apartment. Somehow he managed to fit everything in the dishwasher, though he couldn't quite figure out how he did it. He shrugged and began to wipe up the unrecognizable goop on the counter with some Lysol wipes he found under the sink.

  He had just finished gathering up all his dirty clothes when Kitty walked out of the bathroom looking like a million and one dollars. The dress she had chosen was a wrap-around number cinched at her slender waist and sported a plunging neckline. It was black, stopped a few inches above her knees, and made of some kind of slinky, glossy material that clung hungrily to her breasts and hips. She had brushed her pink hair until it shone and gathered it in an up-do that was made to look like a crown. The strappy black sandals on her feet made her bare legs look longer and slimmer. Jack thought she looked like a Faerie Queen … or the death of him, he couldn't decide which.

  “Do you like?” She pirouetted gracefully in front of him. “I used your razor to shave my legs, I hope you don't mind.”

  It took Jack a few seconds to form an actual coherent thought. Hell, she could have used his toothbrush to scrub her feet, if she wished. “You … you look beautiful.” He cleared his throat and clutched the hamper of dirty clothes in front of his crotch, so she couldn't see the effect she had on him. “Uh … I found the TV remote for you.” He nodded at the coffee table. “I found the couch for you, too. You could watch TV while I take a shower and get dressed.”

  She smiled briefly at him before her gaze slid over to the bags of garbage by the door. “I could get rid of those while you're washing up. Where's the trash chute?”

  “Not with you looking so clean and pretty, you're not.” He was appalled. How could she even think he'd let her do that? “You stay here. Watch a Sex in the City rerun or something. I'll take care of those.” He set down the hamper and grabbed two of the bags. It was perfect. He needed to get away from her, anyway. She was driving him nuts with her scent and nearness.

  When he returned for the last bag of trash, he discovered that she had somehow found the in-unit washer and was feeding his dirty laundry into it. He groaned inwardly. Great, they hadn't even had their first date yet and already she had seen his grotty clothes. It was a wonder she hadn't run out of his apartment, shrieking in horror.

  “Oh, shit, Kitty, you didn't have to do that.” He rushed to her side and yanked a skanky-looking wifebeater from her clutches. He placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward the couch, brushing what suspiciously looked like potato chip crumbs from the cushions before sitting her down. “Watch TV. Take a load off.” He grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and pressed it into her hand. “Stay put, Kitty. I mean it. Let me worry about the mess.”

  She gave him a droll look. “Jack, it's obvious you need help.”

  “I mean it, Kitty.” He left her in the living room to finish loading his dirty clothes into the washer. When he returned, she was walking into the front door from the hallway and the last bag of trash was gone. He looked down at her four-inch heels and tried not to picture her tripping and breaking her neck on the way to the trash chute. “Damn it, Kitty. What did I say?”

  She crossed her arms across her ample chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, I know you didn't just use that tone with me, Jack.”

  Jack gritted his teeth and buried both hands in his hair. Goddamn disobedient maddeningly sexy female. “Kitty, I'm trying very, very hard to be a gentleman to you here, okay? You've had a rough day and I didn't want to add to it by attacking you like a ravening wolf. But you're making it very, very hard for me to be nice to you.”

  The corners of her lips quirked up in a saucy smile. “Is it very, very hard, Jack?”

  He growled and threw her a dirty look. “I'm going to take a shower, then we're going out for a nice steak dinner and a movie. Stay. Here. Kitty.” He stalked away from her and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  * * * *

  What the hell was she doing? She wasn't a seductress and yet here she was, flaunting herself in front of Jack like she was just begging to be taken. She remembered the way he had looked at her and shivered. She might as well have slathered herself in steak sauce and thrown herself at a starving lion.

  Rubbing her bare arms, she rose from the couch and walked over to the window, gingerly stepping over a thirty-pound dumbbell on the floor. The city lights twinkled at her and she felt a rush of melancholia surge through her body. Pressing her fist against her mouth to stifle a sob, she wondered at the cause of it and why it felt like her heart was being torn into pieces inside her chest.

  It had to be Jack, of course. Her world was falling apart and he was making her feel like she shouldn't give a shit. With him, she could forget all the craziness that had been happening to her the last month or so. If she were smarter, she wouldn't wait until he was out of the shower but walk out of the door now. The man was definitely trouble. She had no business flirting with a mortal—whoa, where did that come from? The word was so foreign in her mind that it left her shaking.

  “You look beautiful, beloved.”

  Kitty whirled away from the window and found Jack standing before her wearing only an arrogant smile on his darkly handsome face. She raked her gaze hungrily over his naked frame, lingering a little too long on the long, thick cock that hung between his lean, muscular thighs. She forced herself to look away from his cock back to his face and gasped. It wasn't Jack.

  “Shit, what are you doing here? Go away.” She glanced nervously at the closed bathroom door behind him. “If he catches you here, I swear I'll kill you.” Jack's grin spread across his lips. “You'll kill me? For that insignificant mortal?” He propped his hands on his naked hips and shook his head. “Silly girl, I can't be killed.”

  “I don't frickin' care what you are as long as you get the hell out of here.” She spoke in a harsh whisper just in
case Jack had the ears of a bat and could hear them through the shower. “Why don't you go back to my apartment and wait for me there.”

  “I don't have to do anything.” He raised one eyebrow and examined her from head to toe with Jack's silver eyes. “You've never dressed this way for me.” He approached her like a panther stalking a gazelle, morphing out of Jack's somber good looks and into his more obvious blond beauty, taking care to put on an obviously expensive all-white suit. He stroked his finger across her shoulder. “What makes him so special, I wonder?”

  Kitty clenched her fists against her sides and had to restrain herself from tackling him to the floor and raking her claws down his pretty face. Behind him, the pathetic little plant sitting on Jack's kitchen counter burst into flames.

  “Outstanding work!” He began to clap slowly, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “Let's see more of that.”

  With a screech, Kitty flew across the room, grabbed a plastic tumbler, filled it with water, and dumped it over the plant. Fury like she'd never felt before coursed though her veins and she slowly raised her head, glaring at the dragon masquerading as Jack. “You bastard, why did you do that?” She hurled the empty tumbler at him, hitting him square on the head. “What the hell did this man ever do to you that you'd want to set his apartment on fire?”

  The dragon's mouth opened and closed as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite come up with the words. The welt on his forehead where the tumbler had hit him instantly disappeared. “That wasn’t me, you stupid girl! That was all you!”

  “Oh you are not going to blame this on me, motherfucker.” She picked up a tennis shoe on the floor and threw it at him, but he easily dodged it. Even angrier that she had missed her target, she grabbed an umbrella, walked up to him, and thwacked him on the shoulder. “Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. Here. Or I swear to God, I will kill you where you stand.”

  She raised the umbrella to hit him again, but he caught it before it hit him on the head. Snatching the umbrella from her grasp, he straightened to his full height—which was about a foot taller than her—and gave her a considering look. “When on earth did you turn into a termagant? I do not like this development, Kiyo. I don't like it at all. You better get this … viciousness out of your system before you come home.”

  With a wrathful shriek, she shoved him away from her. “Get bent, pretty boy!”

  “Kitty? Kitty, are you all right?” Jack called from the bathroom.

  She smacked the white-suited dragon on the chest. “Get out, he's coming. Get…”

  “Whoa, who are you talking to?”

  Kitty turned around and there stood Jack, soaking wet from his shower with a towel wrapped around his slim hips. She raised a sheepish hand to her face and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't have to look behind her to know that the dragon had disappeared. “I was uh—talking to the TV. Um … really bad horror movie. Killer standing behind the girl. She wouldn't … uh … get out of the house.”

  He gave her a measuring look as though he didn't quite believe her. His glance slid to the TV, which was obviously off. “Was the movie happening in your head?”

  Kitty felt a full-on blush blooming in her face and wondered if she was as red as a tomato. Great, now Jack probably thought she was crazy. “No … um … I turned off the TV right before you came running out of the bathroom. The movie was too scary.”

  “Huh.” A knot appeared between his black brows. Narrowing his eyes, he began to sniff the air. “What's that smell? Was something burning?”

  Kitty squirmed before his scrutiny and prayed he didn't turn around and see the demolished plant. She had to distract him somehow. Summoning a sexy smile to her lips, she put her finger in her mouth, sucked it for a moment, then dragged it down her chin, her neck, down to the deep V of her wrap dress. Jack's heated gaze followed the descent of her finger and a distinct bulge began to form underneath his towel.

  She couldn't help but get turned on herself. Her nipples stiffened beneath the thin fabric of her dress and her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch. “You want to give me a kiss, Jack?” she whispered.

  Jack's silver eyes became so dark they were almost black. He took a step toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder, stroking his fingers up the side of her neck. He cupped her jaw and scraped his thumb across her chin.

  Kitty's mouth became so dry she found it hard to swallow. The look in his eyes made her feel like a small animal trapped by a very large, very dangerous predator. Oddly enough, she felt like giggling. “You don't want to kiss me?”

  “Maybe later. I'm gonna finish my shower.” With one last glance at her breasts, he strode back to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

  Kitty propped her hands on her hips and stared at the closed door, breathing hard. Suddenly feeling cold, she picked up Jack's jacket and slipped it on, pulling it tight around her body. At that moment, she decided his scent on her skin was probably one of her most favorite things in the world. Now if only she could remember the rest of them. With a sigh, she dropped her weight on the couch and waited for him to finish showering.

  Chapter Six

  After a quick dinner at Jack's favorite Italian restaurant, the two of them finally made it to the Bruce Lee festival at the Landmark. The pimpled kid at the box office couldn't keep his eyes off Kitty's tits. Jack had been tempted to reach into the little glass cubicle and choke him, but Kitty put a restraining hand on his arm. Jack snatched the tickets of the kid's shaking hands and led Kitty inside with his hand pressed firmly against the small of her back.

  He didn't like that he felt so possessive of her when he only met her … the night before. There was a lot he really didn't know about her. There was also a possibility that she was batshit crazy. He had heard her arguing heatedly with someone in the living room, which was why he had rushed out of the shower butt-naked and dripping. When he saw there was no one there but her out there, he’d felt distinctly uneasy. Maybe she was like Sally Field in Sybil and one of her masculine personalities had come out to argue with her for some reason.

  Crazy or not, Jack was still willing to seriously hurt anyone who dared hurt a pink hair on her head. Sleeping soundly with her head propped on his shoulder, Kitty let out a tiny, delicate snore, and Jack felt a fist squeeze his heart. He had never felt such all-consuming passion for anyone before and frankly, it scared the shit out of him. He was almost sure he could love her and he couldn't remember ever loving anyone in his entire life. It was pretty sad, but before he had met her, he had already come to accept that he just wasn't capable of loving anyone more than he loved himself.

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead and tightened his arm around her shoulders. She had stayed awake through Fist of Fury, began to nod off during Way of the Dragon, and woke up halfway through Enter the Dragon only to fall asleep again. Game of Death had just started and he almost wished she would wake up because it was his favorite movie and he really wanted to share it with her.

  “Kitty,” he whispered in her ear. She stirred and raised her head to look at him. Even in the dark, he could see that her violet eyes were bleary with exhaustion. The tenderness he felt for her threatened to choke him and he forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Maybe we should go home, huh? You've had a long day. Don't you want to lie in your own bed?”

  “No,” she murmured, covering her yawn with her palm. “I want to go home with you. I want to sleep in your bed.”

  Jack thought it'd be kind of nice to just lie in bed with her and cuddle her while she slept. He squeezed her against him and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her floral scent. “Okay.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Let's go.”

  “But Jack…” She looked at the screen where Bruce Lee had just appeared wearing his infamous yellow jumpsuit. “Game of Death is your favorite movie.”

  He froze. “How did you know that?”

  “Um…” She shrugged. “Didn't you tell me over dinner?”

&n
bsp; “I must have.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. His body felt a little stiff from sitting in the same position for six and a half hours. He glanced down at Kitty and held out his hand to her. “Let's go, baby.”

  “Okay.” She slipped her tiny hand into his and yanked herself up, straightening her dress with her free hand as she stood.

  The bike was parked only a block from the theater. Jack released Kitty's hand long enough to put his helmet on her head and secure it under her chin. He chuckled when he saw her smile even through the dark visor. He got on first and Kitty jumped on after him, sliding her arms around his hips and cradling him between her thighs. Jack tried his best to concentrate on guiding the bike lest he crashed and killed them both.

  They reached his apartment building within minutes. Jack parked the bike in the apartment garage and chained it up, while Kitty removed the helmet from her head and gingerly unseated herself. When Jack looked up, Kitty had the helmet cradled against her side and was staring outside, at the neighborhood park across the street.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and she jumped. He apologized with a kiss on her hair. “What's wrong, Kitty? What are you looking at?”

  “The park,” she answered, her voice sounding strangely hollow. “Let's go for a walk, Jack. I want to go for a walk.”

  “In the park?” Jack raised his eyebrows. Donnelly Park was a local hangout for the winos, punks, and crackheads of the neighborhood. He looked at his watch. It was almost two o'clock in the morning. “Sweetheart, I don't think it'd be safe.”

  “I want to go for a walk, Jack.”

  She sounded dazed, though her voice carried an oddly musical lilt. If he didn't know any better, he would almost say she was hypnotized. He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to face him. Her violet eyes were pleasantly blank.