by Jo Leigh
7
AS EROTIC AS THE TEASING had been, John hoped like hell she wanted to get to the main course. It actually hurt to be this hard, not that he was complaining. What she’d done to him. Good Lord.
“Hey, Johnny. In about two seconds, I’m taking off my heels. I suggest you be naked by then, or I’m starting without you.”Way to take the edge off. He grinned as he fumbled over his clothes to the couch. His shoes came off next, followed by his socks. He wished there were a blanket, though. He wanted everything to be perfect for Bella. No choice but to go with the flow.
She kicked him, but it was with her bare foot and didn’t hurt at all. “Ah, you’re here.”
“Oh, yeah.” He pulled her into his arms, groaning when he felt her naked against him. While he liked the touching part, he missed the visuals. Of course, that would be taken care of in the morning.
“You feel good,” she said. She kissed his chest, nipped him on the right pec, making him flinch, but then she licked over the hurt.
“Okay, now we either have to get down on the couch or find a wall because I don’t think I can wait.”
“Uh, aren’t you forgetting something? In your wallet.”
“Ah, shit.” Hating that he had to leave her, if only for a minute, he found his pants and thank God he knew just where to find the condom. Sadly, there was only the one, but that was better than nothing. “Got it.”
“Then put me where you want me.”
She was easier to find, and he wasted no time. He swept her up into his arms, touched the couch with his shins and carefully laid her down. No complaints meant he’d judged the space well, but before he joined her, he touched her face so he could kiss her. Then he ran his hands down her nude body, loving the feel of her breasts and her skin, softer than any silk, learning her.
Carefully, he climbed on the couch, straddling her legs. He wasn’t going to stay like this, but he took the time to put the condom on his aching cock.
Then he gently moved between her legs, touching her wherever he could reach. Cradled by her thighs, he put his hands down on the couch, just above her shoulders. Another kiss, this one long and sweet.
She whimpered and lifted her hips. He lowered himself so his weight was on one bent arm, and stroked her opening. She made these soft sounds and each one made his cock jump with anticipation. She was already wet, and that made him ache even more. “Bella,” he said. “Bellisima.”
“Grazie,” she whispered back, as she pushed down on his fingers.
As nice as that was, he wanted more. He took hold of his cock and guided himself inside her until there was no need for help. In one strong stroke, he entered her all the way. They both groaned as he stilled there, wanting this to last.
Both her legs lifted, and he felt her heels run up his thighs until he was wrapped in soft heat. His body moved back and in, slowly at first, but she felt so damn good, he lost his control.
Her hands were on his back, pulling him closer, urging him on. Each thrust came faster and harder, but still he was able to read her, to listen to what she wanted. Her fingers in his hair brought his mouth to hers. She cried out even as they kissed, noises he’d remember forever. The darkness made it all new, magnified every sensation.
The feel of her nails running up his back. Her bare heels digging into his thighs. Her wet heat killing him with pleasure. Something shifted inside him, and the thinking stopped. Nothing existed except his cock in her pussy, his tongue in her mouth.
She broke from the kiss, gasping and meeting each thrust. He couldn’t restrain himself, driven by her need to take him deeper, harder. The roaring started in his ears as his balls tightened, as he lost his rhythm and his mind.
SHE WAS GOING TO COME. Her whole body was part of it, part of the orgasm that started deep inside, that was stoked by his every touch. She was surrounded by him, and she surrounded him, and it was all too much. One second she was on the precipice, the next she was arching and crying out and trembling.
He kept riding her, jerky hard thrusts that shook the couch, that stretched her orgasm impossibly. With one last push, he stopped and she could feel his body tense as he stretched his head up with a feral cry.Time slowed around her thudding heartbeat, as white spots flashed in front of her eyes and the sound of him dimmed with the blood rushing in her ears.
It dissipated slowly. The last thing to calm down was her heart.
John collapsed next to her, pressed against the back of the couch. One leg and one arm crossed her body. He really didn’t have enough room, but she couldn’t move, not yet.
“Give me a second,” she said.
He grunted in reply, and she smiled, understanding. The sound of their breathing was loud in the basement and she wondered if it was midnight. If they’d shattered the old year away. Birthed the new year with their sex.
Eventually, she shifted over, turned on her side to face him. He kept his leg and arm around her, which was just exactly the right thing.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m done for. You’ve broken me.”
“Excellent,” she said. “When I can move again, I’ll pat myself on the back.”
“No, that’s my job. God, that was amazing.”
“Yes. It was. Is.”
His fingers rubbed against her back, the gentlest touch, but still far more than she could pull off. It felt wonderful.
“I was thinking,” he said. “No way Sal could have put this whole plan together. Vince was the brains behind this. He must have come up with the idea to bait me into chasing Sal. Getting me out of my car so they could slash my tires. He had to have known that I wouldn’t give it up. That I’d follow him, even if it meant taking a cab.”
Bella grinned. She didn’t mind. It was good for him to talk it out now, when he was exhausted and sated. “He knows you.”
“But he doesn’t. I haven’t seen Vince in four years, at least.”
“So Sal filled him in?”
His fingers stilled. “Sal? That gavone couldn’t find his dick with both hands. No. It had to have been a group effort. Sal’s mother. Nonna. Hell, for all I know my own parents pitched in. Had to be.”
She reached over and touched his temple, then stroked his hair. “It’s going to be all right, you know. I may not be a police officer, but I’m a hell of a witness. I’ll tell them all that you had nothing to do with the escape. They’ll believe me.”
“Some will.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll react to your signals. If you behave as if you’re innocent, go on being the best detective in the precinct, this will all fade away. People who aren’t your family don’t hold on to stuff for long unless there’s a reason. If you put it behind you, they’ll get caught up in their own dramas. Trust me. It’s human nature.”
“You trying to tell me the world doesn’t revolve around my problems?”
“No. That’s your family’s job. They’ll lord this over you till you die. You might as well just suck it up.”
“For a woman with cold fish for parents, you sure do know a lot about large Italian families.”
“I’m a quick study. Especially when I’m a little envious.”
“Of my family? Whoa. That’s hard to get my head around.”
“That’s because it’s all you’ve ever known. I’d decided long ago that I wanted a big family. A close family. That I would annoy the hell out of my kids and interfere and generally be a pain. I’ll make sure they all come to me for the holidays, at least most of them. I’ll go to all the recitals and school plays and I’ll embarrass my kids in front of their friends.” She pressed her face against his chest. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I get carried away.”
“That’s okay. You’d be good at that. Hell, you’d fit with my people better than I do.”
She didn’t say anything while she tried to picture it. Nonna’s bad cookies. All that Italian macho crap. Dinners with too many people, everyone talking at once. John sitting next to her, holding her hand under the table.
&nbs
p; “Bella?”
“Yeah.”
“I just wanted to—You know. Uh. I’m still so damn sorry about your audition, but…”
“I know,” she said. “Nothing’s turned out the way I thought it would today. But only parts of it were really bad.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded, stroking his hair again, wishing she could see his dark eyes. “Some parts were pretty great.”
His leg wrapped around her tighter. “I was thinking, if you were amenable, that maybe after we’re out of here, we could, uh, keep in touch. See each other.”
“Well, we already know you’re buying me a pair of shoes day after tomorrow.”
“Right. Shoes.”
“And you should probably take me to dinner. Because, come on. It’s the least you could do.”
“I see you’re gonna lord that over me for the—”
“For the rest of your life? You never know. Stranger things have happened.”
He kissed her, and once again it was completely new. There was hope there, and promise.
“It’s a damn shame we only had the one condom,” he said.
“Huh.”
“What?” She could picture his face, how he’d look at her.
“Some detective you are. There’s half a box of condoms in that dinky little bathroom.”
“Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t joke about that. But then, there are quite a few things I wouldn’t joke about.”
“Oh, really?”
She scooted down the couch as gracefully as possible considering the cushions had practically swallowed her. “Yep. And I’m going to let you discover each and every one all by yourself.”
“Some journeys…” John said, his voice a lot more serious than a moment ago. “Some journeys are meant to be taken slowly. And totally worth each step.”
Ms. Step
1
THE OPEN CALL FOR DANCERS wouldn’t start for two hours, but Willow Hill’s heart raced as if it was only moments away. She’d imagined herself there at least a hundred times, visualizing her perfect posture, the turn of her head when she landed a grand jeté. She could practically smell the powder, the sweat and the competition as every dancer in New York vied for a spot in the best musical since A Chorus Line.
Only the few, the proud, the unbelievably good would make the cut. She would be first in line.Buried in her big blue coat, her tote slung over her shoulder and her eyes peeled for the next free cab, Willow inelegantly stretched her left foot despite her thick boot. At the eight count, she eased the stretch just as slowly. Before she could start on her right foot, she threw her free arm out to catch an oncoming Yellow Cab. Because this was her lucky day, the turning point in her life that would set the stage for the career of her dreams, the cab pulled up to the curb. The driver had enough sense and courtesy to avoid the worst of the puddle and stop a few feet ahead. That didn’t happen often, at least not during rush hour. She hurried to the door, adjusted her tote and with one foot still on the curb reached for the handle. Before she made contact, something big and hard slammed into her side.
She fell in slow motion, with vivid snapshots of yellow and black and a long scream that echoed in her head. With a bone-shaking thud she found herself in the gutter, in the black sludge of old snow and grime.
“Damn. Are you all right?”
The deep voice was close above her, concerned, but she couldn’t answer with no breath and no equilibrium. A hand touched her arm, another slipped under her head.
“Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”
She inhaled deeply, coughed, breathed again. “I’m fine.” She wanted him to let go, give her room. The cab was still there, but if she didn’t hurry someone else would grab it.
“Wait, don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?” Willow found a handhold near the tire and pushed up.
“Move. Don’t move.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She shoved him with her elbow. “Go away.”
“Not until I know you’re okay.”
Able to turn at last, she looked up into worried hazel eyes. “What do you want, a letter from my doctor?”
“That would be good, yes.”
“Tough. Now either help me up or get lost.”
He studied her, his brow furrowed and lips tight. “Let me do the lifting, all right?”
“If it will get you off me.”
Carefully, he helped her to a sitting position on the curb, her butt slipping in the slush until he steadied her. Then he ran his hand over the side of her head where she’d hit.
“Hey!” She jerked away. “Bad touch.”
“Doctor touch,” he said, not letting her escape.
“Not likely.”
“True, nonetheless. So be quiet and sit still until I’m sure you haven’t split your skull.”
She huffed a sigh and gave him two seconds to finish groping her.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s get you to your feet.”
“Finally.”
Two sturdy hands lifted her with surprising ease. She meant to step clear of him, be done with this, but pain stole her breath and her balance. Her ankle gave out, and he caught her before she fell.
“What is it?”
“Ankle. Ow. Dammit. Ow.” She looked for a place to sit, but there wasn’t so much as a decent stoop around. “Open the door.”
“What door?”
She looked at the doctor, if he even was a doctor, sharply. “The taxi.”
“Oh, yes.”
His hands still held her up as she hopped on one foot. This seemed to perplex him, and he looked from the cab door to her and back again. As she opened her mouth to tell him that it wasn’t rocket science, the man slung her arm around his neck and picked her up.
“Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?”
“What you asked,” he said, as if she were the idiot.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Not Superman. Let’s get you in there. I need to look at your ankle.”
Willow was surprised at how quickly he managed it. Even more surprised that he scooted in right behind her and immediately bent down to lift her foot.
“Ow!” She flinched and socked him in the arm. Not that he paid any attention. After a soft “Sorry,” he had her leg up to his knee, forcing her to lean back against the far door, and was attempting to take off her boot.
It hurt. A lot. “Ow, ow, ow.”
He stopped. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I told you, there’s no problem. I stepped wrong, that’s all. It’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
“I doubt it.” He turned to the cabbie. “5141 Broadway.”
The doctor held her calf in the palm of his hand. It was an awkward position for her, and though she knew he couldn’t see up her dress, she felt exposed. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that he was a stranger taking her somewhere unknown. A very handsome stranger, but then Ted Bundy was supposedly good-looking. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You need to get to the hospital.”
“For a turned ankle? Are you nuts? I’ve got an audition.”
“Audition? For what?”
“A Broadway show, that’s what.”
His eyes widened a bit before he shook his head. “Unless the part is for someone in a cast, that’s not going to happen.”
“Cast? No.” She vehemently shook her head, her heart plunging to the pit of her stomach. He didn’t understand. She had to dance today. She’d come clear across the country, sacrificed everything for this opportunity. The taxi inched into traffic. “Stop.” She tried to sit up straight, which was a terrible error. “My bag. It’s still out there.”
The doctor immediately banged on the partition and the cab stopped. “One minute,” he said to the driver. His attention came back to her as he opened his door, carefully placed her foot on the seat, then slipped outside.
Before she had a chance to move, he was back, her tote in
hand. Once again he did the ankle-in-his-palm thing before closing the door. The driver didn’t waste a moment shooting into the stream of traffic.
“You okay?” He looked as if he actually cared about her answer.
“No. I’m not.” Willow let out a breath. She’d danced through injury before. What dancer didn’t? But never anything broken. “What kind of doctor are you?”
It took him several seconds to answer. “Orthopedic surgeon. Fourth-year resident. Dr. Flynn Bradshaw.”
She let her head fall back against the cab window. “Crap.”
“It might not be broken. Although, I don’t think you should count on dancing anytime soon.”
“This was supposed to be my big break.” Tears stung her eyes. She blinked, trying to keep them from seeping. “And not the kind that leaves me crippled. Oh, man. I was sure it was my lucky day. The start of a whole new chapter in my life.”
His free hand touched hers. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
“It’s not your fault.” The silence that followed made her stomach clench. “Or is it?”
THE JIG WAS UP. He had to confess, let her know that it was his impatience that had gotten her into this mess, entirely his fault. Luckily, the cab wasn’t far from the E.R. entrance, and he was able to deflect for a moment by getting out his wallet. But he could feel her stare.
Flynn ended up giving the driver a ten-dollar tip. It didn’t make him feel better. He extracted himself from the backseat and found a wheelchair just inside the hospital entrance. When he got back to the car, her lips were pressed thin. Her watery eyes, a very pretty blue, signaled the end of his grace period. He had to tell her.She didn’t even squeak when he picked her up and put her in the chair. She just turned her head so she could glare at him.
“I did it,” he said. “Not intentionally. I was in a rush, on my cell phone, and I didn’t see you and I lunged for the door and crashed into you, and I apologize. I should have been more careful. Watched what I was doing.”
She didn’t say anything. Not for the whole ride inside. He stood by her as she gave the admitting nurse her information, only then realizing that he hadn’t even asked her name. Guilt made him want to pass her on to the attending staff, but when she said she had no insurance, there was no other option. “I’ll be taking care of this.”
