No Limits

by Lori Foster

  It was bad enough that she had to be miserable.

  No reason to make Cannon that way, too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AFTER WHAT ARMIE told him, Cannon cut his evening short. It was still late, but not as late as he’d figured on. He’d lasted only an hour more and then couldn’t take it.

  The guys laughed at him when he separated from them, but he didn’t mind. With their warped senses of humor, they found a lot of twisted shit hilarious. They continued on through the neighborhood and he cut back across a few empty lots to where he’d parked his truck.

  The drive home took him past the pawnshop, and that was when he saw the guy go running away from the front door. He’d have parked and given chase, but the flare of a fire stopped him.

  Keeping an eye out for an ambush, he approached and saw the fire was a bucket of trash set up close to the front door. Probably just vandalism, but, damn, what lousy timing since Yvette had just decided to reopen it. He snuffed it before any damage was done, and then, knowing Rowdy would still be working at the bar, he called him.

  Ella answered, meaning Avery must’ve been on a break. When she laid the phone down to get Rowdy, Cannon could hear the noise of the boisterous crowd in the background. A packed room. Cannon hated to bother him.

  Half a minute later, Rowdy answered with an intuitive, “What’s wrong?”

  “Maybe nothing.” Pacing alongside his truck, keeping an eye on some youths across the street, he told Rowdy what had happened. “I just convinced Yvette to reopen the place, but with a damn fire… I don’t know. I don’t want her spooked.”

  “First off, I’ll give Logan a call and let him know, just so he can have some officers keep an eye out. You might want to put some cameras up, maybe an alarm or two.”

  “Yeah. I was going to do it to the house anyway, so might as well include the shop.” Which meant Yvette would definitely know about the fire. “Hell.”

  “Second thing,” Rowdy said, easily interpreting his curse, “she’s not made of china.”

  “No, she’s not,” Cannon agreed. “It’s actually surprised me, how strong she is. But the threat of a fire has to hit her differently.”

  “You were there, too, threatened same as Yvette, and you aren’t spooked by a bucket of old rags. Don’t assume she would be either. Tell her about it first thing,” Rowdy advised. “Let her decide whether it’s worth it to battle some vandalism or if she’d rather leave the headaches behind.”

  It was whether or not she’d leave him behind that Cannon was worried about. He wanted a chance to get to know her again, in every way imaginable.

  He wanted a chance to fulfill that particular fantasy.

  “One more thing,” Rowdy said.

  “Yeah?”

  “If she’s not with you, does that mean she’s alone? Because much as I assume it was just vandalism, I can’t discount the past.”

  “Same here,” Cannon admitted, and that was the crux of his concern. “In all the time that she’s been gone, no one has bothered the shop. I know because I check on it every so often when I’m in town.”

  “Ditto,” Rowdy said.

  It didn’t surprise Cannon that Rowdy had kept an eye out. His streak of protectiveness ran bone deep. “I’m heading there now.”

  “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume everything is fine.”

  “Yeah. And, Rowdy? Thanks.” Cannon put the phone away as he jogged around the hood of the truck and got in. He was less than ten minutes from the house, but the drive felt like an hour.

  When he pulled into the driveway, everything looked secure, with enough light to guide a ship. Some of the apprehension let up, but he’d feel better once he saw Yvette.

  Assuming she’d be in bed, he quietly opened the door and stepped in without a sound.

  “Hey.”

  His gaze zeroed in on her. Blue light from the muted television washed over her where she sat curled on the couch in a white camisole and striped cotton pajama pants, her hair braided over one shoulder.

  “Hey.” He closed and locked the door. “I thought you were going to be in bed.”

  One bare shoulder lifted. “If you’re not too tired, I thought maybe we could…” The words fell off and she looked away.

  His cock twitched in anticipation of what she’d say. “I’m not at all tired.” In fact, he was suddenly so wired he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  Breath left her in a melancholy sigh. “This is…awkward for me.”

  Making sure not to charge her, Cannon joined her on the couch. “It’s just me. No reason to feel awkward.” As he sat beside her the cushion dipped, rolling her hip nearer to him.

  Trying for subtlety, he leaned closer to fill himself with her scent, a stirring combo of shampoo, lotion and Yvette—warm and sweet and so fucking sexy.

  Her pajama pants were striped in candy colors, long and loose, almost covering her small feet where she had them tucked up next to her. But her camisole… Lord.

  The white stretchy material hugged her breasts and showed her nipples as small shadows. Not touching her was impossible, but he steered his hands to her shoulders. “You’re okay?”

  She nodded. “I mean, I am. But I’m not.”

  He had no clue what she was saying, but he had to kiss her. Right now. He tried to resist, and lost. Leaning in, he touched his mouth to hers, barely there, relishing the moment—

  Yvette slid her arms tight around his neck and pulled him closer.

  An irresistible invitation.

  Turning his head, he nudged her lips open, took her mouth with his tongue, and, God, she tasted good. He pressed her back into the couch, one hand curved around her nape, the other sliding down to the curve of her waist. The insubstantial cover of that soft camisole made it easy for him to get his hand underneath and onto softer skin.

  He stroked upward, and Yvette pulled back. “Wow, I’m sorry.” Trembling, she sank into the corner of the couch…away from him. Eyes wide, her fingers touched her mouth.

  “Yvette?”

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Cannon reined himself in. Discomfort took precedence over modesty, so, ignoring her stare, he adjusted himself in his jeans. With that done, he sat back, one arm along the top of the couch almost touching her. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

  “That’s what I wanted to do. I mean, that’s why I waited up.”

  So not for sex. Damn. “Armie told me what happened.”

  “What? Oh, no.” Dismissing his assumption, she shook her head. “He told me he would. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  “It didn’t upset you?”

  “I felt like an idiot for not realizing what kind of video store it was, and sure, once I did realize it made me uncomfortable. There were male customers in there and they stared at me. But I was about to leave when Armie showed up.”

  Since he still sported wood, he wasn’t in the mood to tease her as Armie had done. “You watched your movie?”

  Frowning, she said, “It’s not porn.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “I watched most of it. I heard you coming in, though, and turned off the sound.” Saying that, she picked up the remote, paused the movie and then turned off the set. “There’s something else I want to talk about.”

  The sudden buzzing of his phone sounded obscenely loud. “Damn. Sorry.” Retrieving it from his pocket, he checked the caller ID. “It’s Mindi.” Before she could ask, he said, “The assistant who works with Whitaker.”

  “I remember.” Twisting to see the clock on the wall, Yvette made note of the time and raised a brow.

  Assuming her only reason for calling this late would be an invite, Cannon put a hand on Yvette’s thigh to keep her close and answered the call.

  “I was just about to hang up,” she said. “Am I calling too late?”

  “It’s okay. I meant to get hold of you anyway.”

  “Do tell.”

  D
etermined to keep it brief, he said, “We’re keeping both properties.”

  “Both?”

  “The house and the pawnshop. Appreciate that you were willing to help us, but tell your buyer we’re not interested.”

  “But…” Mindi floundered before annoyance took over. “How is that even possible? Everything in the pawnshop is gone.”

  “Yvette has inventory from her old job.” Cannon met Yvette’s killing glare with a wink. “And apparently Tipton has stuff he’d put away, too.”

  Mindi went silent, then muttered, “I didn’t realize.”

  “Yeah, apparently he filled several storage units.” When she said nothing to that, Cannon added, “Thanks again,” and started to hang up.

  “Wait.” He felt her hesitation before she finally said, “If you’re going to go through everything…” She paused for effect. “I’d be happy to lend you a hand.”

  Yeah, he’d just bet she would. Her hand, her mouth… ”No, it’s not a problem, but thanks.”

  “Really, Cannon, if you need anything, anything at all, let me know.”

  Cannon rubbed his thumb in small circles over Yvette’s thigh. “Will do. Take care, Mindi.” He put the phone on the coffee table. “She wanted to offer up her assistance.”

  Yvette snorted. “Yeah, right. She wanted to offer up herself, you mean.”

  Enjoying her show of jealousy, Cannon smiled. “A little of that, yeah. But I turned her down for you.”

  She bit her lip. “Just like you turned down the dancers?”

  He’d have to kick Armie’s ass later. “Want me to return the movie for you tomorrow?”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  He leaned in to kiss her. “The women sometimes hear things going on in the neighborhood. They give info about it when they can.”

  “Again,” she said, “hoping they can give you more.”

  No reason to deny it. “Sometimes, yeah. But that’s not why I visit with them. As Armie could tell you, I’m picky.”

  Her mouth quirked. “No topless dancers?”

  He rolled a shoulder. “If I liked her and was attracted, too, I wouldn’t hold that against her.”

  Tucking her chin, Yvette stared at him with disbelief. “Baloney.”

  Yeah, she had him there. “Okay, so I’d probably want her to do something else if I started getting serious. No sharing the goods, ya know? But if it was in her past…” To tease her, he asked, “Why do you ask? You have some pole-dancing moves you want to share?”

  “Dancing is not my forte.”

  “They could probably teach you.” He looked her over, imagining it. “I’d enjoy watching the lessons.”

  She lightly punched his shoulder, then rubbed the spot. “It’s getting late and I was hoping to get this over with.”

  That sounded pretty damned ominous. “Okay.” Had she already decided to go back to Cali? With Heath? His eyes narrowed. “Heard from your ex again?”

  Lacing her fingers together, she rolled her eyes and said, “Several times.”

  “And?”

  “I wrote back once just to say, again, that it was over and we had nothing to talk about.”

  “Bet he took that well.”

  Her mouth twisted with wry humor. “Actually, he blew up all over my Facebook, so I unfriended him.”

  “Good move.”

  “I talked with Vanity.”

  It was weird how much he enjoyed sitting there with her, just chatting, even though part of that chat was about her asshole ex. “Will she be able to visit?”

  “I invited her, so we’ll see. But she actually called me to say that Heath is posting more nonsense. Not that I care. We don’t have the same friends, so what difference does it make?”

  She said all that as if it really didn’t matter, so then why did Cannon want to find the putz and teach him a few lessons on manners? “What did he say?”

  “A bunch of nasty stuff that’s not worth repeating. It’s just, well, your Facebook is open to the public, so it’s possible he might bomb it with his trash talk.”

  “I’ll have him blocked, too.”

  “Thanks.” With a deep breath, she scooted closer, reached out a hand to touch his forearm. “I waited up because I wanted to talk about…us.”

  Yeah, he could handle that. “Go on.” He waited, but she seemed to be girding herself for—

  “I’ve been so unfair to you.”

  The blurted comment threw Cannon. “Come again?”

  “I’ve let myself forget the truth of things when I shouldn’t have. You’re…well…” She huffed out a breath, then looked him in the eyes. “I just have to say it.”

  “Yeah, do.”

  “You’re a fantasy for me. You know you always have been.”

  Twice Cannon started to speak, but with her looking at him so earnestly, he had no idea what to say. He settled on, “So far I don’t see the problem.”

  He’d happily be her fantasy, because she was his.

  “It’s true,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken, “that being away for three years didn’t change that. How I feel is the same, but now I’m different.”

  “Older, more mature.” No longer off-limits.

  “True, but also, I can’t…”

  He waited, saw her struggling with herself, and prompted her. “You can’t what?”

  She looked so damned grave, it bugged him.

  “Here.” He scooped her up and onto his lap, then held her there when she automatically started to scramble off. “You’re not comfortable?”

  “I am.”

  “I scare you?”

  “I already told you that you didn’t.”

  “Then let me hear what it is you can’t do.”

  She went still, but remained stiff.

  Cannon kept his arms loosely looped around her when what he really wanted to do was bring her close, as close as she could get. “It bothers you for me to hold you?”

  “It does, but not for the reason you think.”

  Smoothing his hand over her hair and then down her braid, he asked, “How does it bother you?”

  “It makes me want you even more.”

  He’d never had a problem with patience before. But now, with Yvette, figuring her out wore on him. He wanted to race to the finish line so they could move on to more physical things.

  Like sex.

  Opening his hand on the small of her back, he rubbed, soothing her. “But you can’t…why?”

  Relenting, she got as close as he wanted her, curling into him, her head tucked under his chin against his chest. In a tormented whisper, she explained, “I can’t…finish.”

  With no idea what that meant, Cannon kept quiet.

  She toyed with the cotton of his T-shirt, her nervous fingers plucking at the material and then smoothing it. “Something in me is broken. When I have sex, I mean.”

  It felt like a fist landed in his gut. Cannon forgot to breathe as he took apart what she said. In his mind he ran through one absurd scenario after another and still didn’t quite get it.

  He tried to tip up her face but she huddled in close, hiding, a little desperate.

  To reassure her, he kissed the top of her head and tamped down a surge of jealousy. “I want to understand, okay? So I’m going to ask some questions. That all right?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t be embarrassed with me, okay?”

  Her laugh was raw, devoid of humor. “Of course I’m embarrassed. It’s an embarrassing problem.”

  He hugged her tighter, his arms around her slender body. He couldn’t think of a delicate way to put it, so he just asked. “You’re saying you can’t come?”

  He heard the catch of her breath, felt the way she lowered her face more. “Yes, that’s what I saying.”

  “During sex?”

  A nod.

  So she’d been with some selfish bozo? So what? That wasn’t him. Hell, he loved pushing ladies over the edge, feeling them clench, hearing the sounds they made, how they b
reathed and cried out and the way they moved.

  With Yvette, yeah, he could get hard again just thinking about something that hot.

  And talk about hot… He lowered his mouth to her temple. “What about by yourself?”

  A long, tense pause and then… “No.”

  Damn. Visualizing her trying—

  Her small fist caught him in his bruised ribs. “Stop it, Cannon.”

  Hiding his wince, he said, “Can’t.” Though she resisted, he framed her face, brought it up and kissed her again, a killer kiss that left them both breathless. And, damn it, she didn’t respond like a woman with issues. She gave back, took and enjoyed. Maybe not as much as he did, but given how much he wanted her, that’d be a stretch for anyone.

  When he let up, he kept her there, looking at him. “You could get off before?”

  Heat rushed into her face, making her green eyes more vivid. “Before I left here? Yes.”

  Which meant before she was so badly abused by the scum who’d assaulted her, showing her things no young lady should ever have to see. “But since then?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head.

  Sorting things out in his head, he reminded her, “You like kissing me.”

  Gently, her fingers touched his mouth. “Kissing isn’t a problem for me. Neither is touching. I enjoy it.” Her gaze lifted to his. “Far more so with you.”

  Cannon was acutely aware of her firm bottom on his lap, how her breasts pressed against that thin camisole, her scent and her warmth. It was the oddest thing to be having this conversation. He had to think that once they got together, it’d all be fine. He’d obliterate her concerns with red-hot pleasure.

  But he wanted her to know that he took her worries seriously, that it wasn’t only sex he wanted, so he held back and listened.

  “That’s what I wanted to explain to you.” Her fingertips went from his lips to his jaw, rasping over his beard shadow. “When I can’t…can’t react the way I should, I don’t want you to think that reflects on you.”

  She couldn’t be serious. “So if I get mine and you don’t get yours, it wouldn’t be my fault?” By sheer force of will, he kept the disbelief from his expression. “That’s what you’re saying?”