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Wicked Temptation

Page 29

by Linda Verji


  Ever since the cops had swamped in he'd been uncharacteristically quiet. She didn't know if it was because of the Bradley incident or because almost immediately afterwards they'd been crowded by concerned but noisy onlookers. She planned to find out what was going on with him as soon as everyone was gone. Fortunately, that didn't take too long.

  "Well, we better leave y'all to rest. I'm sure you're both tired." said Geneva as she lifted to her feet. She turned to the crowd and in a firm voice ordered, "Come on, let's go."

  The moans of protest were universal, but Geneva was a force to be reckoned with. The old woman hustled every reluctant guest out efficiently, making sure that she was the last to leave. "And don't let me see none of you trying to get back in. I still got my shotgun."

  With a chuckled, "Good night," Misha closed the door behind her neighbors and strode to the living room where Danny still was, looking as somber as ever. Eager to ease his mood, she grinned. "You should've let me smack Bradley around a little bit more. That idiot made me break my mama's best china."

  She expected Danny to laugh, or at least smile. Instead, his expression remained grave as he stood up. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

  "No, I just knocked my head a litt-"

  Even before she completed the sentence, he was striding towards her and spinning her around. "Where? Let me see."

  "It's nothing serious," she said, touching the back of her skull to show him where she'd bumped against the wall. "Just a little bump."

  "Here?" he asked, rifling through her hair.

  "Yeah." She flinched when he touched the sensitive area.

  "It's not swollen yet." Although his voice was calm there were undertones of concern. "But it still might. We should head to the ER."

  "For a bump?" She turned her head giving him a disbelieving look, then shook her head. "No, I'm good."

  "Miche-"

  "Danny," she cut him off as she swiveled to face him and locked her arms around his waist. "I'm not hurt. I promise." She gave him a soft smile. "You should save your concern for Bradley. You heard what Collette said. WWE victim."

  Not a flicker of amusement crossed his eyes as he shrugged. "Fine."

  Though his face was expressionless, Misha had a good idea of the emotions that were swirling in there. Anxiety, anger, relief… She sighed. "Danny, I'm fine."

  He merely nodded. When she lifted up on tiptoes to kiss him, he met her with a soft touch of his lips to hers but didn't deepen the kiss. She sighed inwardly as their eyes locked. She didn't know what more to say to assuage his worries, so she said, "I suppose I should go clean up the mess in the kitchen."

  "No." Something primitive crossed his gaze as he grasped her wrist. "It can wait. Right now-" He took a step forward with fingers still closed around her wrist. "We're packing up and going to my place. This house is a hazard."

  "What? No," she protested even as he led her by hand out the living room. "I was planning on cooking for you."

  "You can do it at my place." He dragged her to her bedroom. "We're getting out of here."

  She wanted to protest, wanted to say that there was nothing wrong with the house. But the look in his eyes and his quick efficient movements as he grabbed her suitcase from the top cabinet quieted her. In less than thirty minutes they were in his car and turning into the freeway.

  Tense silence reigned in the car and Danny kept his gaze determinedly on the road. He usually gave her the silent treatment when he was angry at her but she didn't understand what he had to be angry about.

  "Danny, are you mad at me?" she asked.

  His jaw hardened, but he didn't speak.

  "Danny?" She reached for his hand across the console. He didn't pull away, but he didn't link their fingers either. She stroked the top of his hand. "What's wrong, Honey?"

  For a long moment he was silent, then he sighed. "I'm not mad at you."

  But something was going on with him. Though his face was expressionless, she could sense the fierce emotions lurking behind it. She waited until they got to his apartment and stored their bags in his bedroom to broach the subject.

  She caught his arm as they entered the living room. "Danny, talk to me."

  She thought he might stride away, but after a brief pause he turned to face her his expression grim. "I'm not mad at you."

  "Then what is it?"

  He studied her for a long time then sighed. "I'm just-" He frowned and stopped speaking. Grabbing her hand, he led her deeper into the living room. He settled with his back against the couch, legs apart, pulled her between them and settled his hands on her waist. His expression was troubled as he stared at the floor beneath them.

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. "You're just what?"

  His eyes seemed to burn when he looked up at her and his voice was strained as he continued, "I'm just mad that I wasn't there to protect you from Bradley. I keep thinking; what if he hadn't heard the sirens?" His hands clenched in loose fists along her waist. "What if you hadn't managed to disarm him? What if-"

  "Don't," Misha cut in firmly. A tremor of fierce emotion went through her as she stroked her fingers along his arm then cupped them over his shoulder. "I'm okay and we caught Bradley. That's all that matters. Stop worrying over what might have happened."

  He shook his head. "I can't."

  "Why?"

  "Because I-" He stopped speaking as his gaze held here. His eyes were so dark they looked black instead of blue. "Because it’s not every day that a man realizes that one risk-taking, accident-prone woman is the center of his world."

  He had come to the realization as he'd watched Tony carting Bradley off. Misha might say that she was scared that he'd die because of her loving him, but tonight Danny had realized that if she continued in her current line of business it was quite likely that she would get there before him.

  And it'd frightened the hell out of him.

  He kept thinking of what would've happened had she not disarmed Bradley. The situation could have gone completely different than it had. Misha had gotten lucky. Very lucky. But luck wasn't a constant and expecting hers to keep holding was illogical and stupid. One day her luck would run out. And if today was any indication, he wouldn't be on time to protect her then either.

  His insides twisted at that thought. He sounded angrier than he intended when he snapped, "Why couldn't you pick something less dangerous to be passionate about?"

  Her eyebrows arched upwards. "I'm sorry?"

  "Why does it have to be catching criminals?" He let his hands drop from her waist.

  Her eyes narrowed into thin slits as she took a step back and folded her arms over her breasts. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard."

  He scowled. "No, it isn't."

  "Yes, it is," she refuted. "That's like me asking you why you invent your gadgets. Why do you like them?"

  "Because-" His words dried up because he couldn't think of any reason other than because engineering interested him.

  "Then my answer is also because," she retorted defiantly.

  "My gadgets don't kill people," he snapped back. "I don't even know why you opened the door to Bradley when you already knew he was the killer. Any sane person would've checked the peephole first. I'd have thought you'd learned your lesson the first time he shot you."

  "Okay, first, the kitchen backdoor doesn't have a peephole." Her eyes sparkled with unrestrained anger. "Second, it isn't my fault that he's stronger or that he forced his way into my house and held a gun to me. I had no plans of being in a confrontation with Bradley Wilde, I promise you."

  "Yes. Right." He snorted. "You know damn well you would've circled back to him eventually. Throwing yourself head first into danger is your M.O."

  "Wait. Stop right there." She held up a hand as her voice rose in direct proportion to her anger. "Are you serious right now? You can't be- mm." She stopped speaking, closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temple. From her deep gulps of air and silence, it seemed like she was trying to calm hers
elf.

  It took a long moment but, finally, she sucked in a long breath then opened her eyes. When she spoke, she was much calmer as was her gaze. "I know why you're trying to start a fight with me, Danny."

  He just glared at her, his anger still throbbing in waves through him.

  "I know that you're doing this because you love me and want to protect me." She took a step closer to him. "That's okay. I understand and accept that."

  He wanted to shake her arms off when she wound them around his neck, but he stayed put stiffly.

  She continued, "But you have to understand and accept something too…"

  "What?"

  "That I love you too." She edged closer to him, surrounding him with her feminine scent and lightly anchoring her soft curves against his body. She was so close, he could feel her breath whisper against his lips as she added, "And that means I feel the same way about you as you feel about me. I feel just as protective. If I could I would lock you in the house all day and protect you from the dangers out there."

  Feeling himself softening towards her, Danny shook his head. "I'm not the one in danger here."

  "Yes, you are," Misha refuted as she rifled her fingers in his hair. Her eyes were earnest as she said, " You don't have to be an investigator to be in danger. One of your gizmos could malfunction and kill you. Someone could try to hijack Arty one of these days and kill you. Hell, a building could fall on you tomorrow."

  A reluctant laugh rumbled in his throat. "It isn't the same thing."

  "Maybe not to you." When she mashed her breasts to his chest, his reaction was instinctual. Heat raced through him like an electric current and went straight to his cock. She seemed unaffected by the heat as she continued speaking. "You're the one who told me that I shouldn't spend my life cowering. I should be with the people I love and do the things I love."

  "Really?" He arched his eyebrows as he set his hands back on her waist. "I said that?"

  "You did." She smiled before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Solving crimes makes me happy almost as much as you make me happy. And if we're going to make this work then you'll need to accept that."

  He didn't want to. He closed his eyes as his protective instincts wailed in protest. He wanted to insist that she focus on something safer, something more sedate. His heart lurched at the thought of letting her tangle with criminals, but his head reminded him that it wasn't his job to 'let' her do anything. It was her decision how to live her life. He could choose to accept it or reject it. However, rejecting her decision meant rejecting her too. Could he leave her? Hell. No. It wasn't even an option he was willing to consider.

  He sighed as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I suppose this is your way of telling me you're going back to Palestine."

  "No." Misha drew her head away from his. "I'm done with that. I'm sure I can find enough crimes around here to keep me busy."

  His pulse skipped a beat at her announcement. Not quite believing it, he asked, "You're staying?"

  "Yeah. I was planning to tell you tonight during dinner," she said. "I might be able to get my job on the crime beat back-"

  Unable to help himself, he bent and captured her lips in a hard impassioned kiss as relief coursed through his veins. Caught by surprise, she was unresponsive in his arms for a few seconds, but when he suckled her bottom lip, her mouth parted in surprise. He dove in, eager to ease his own worries in her taste and she met him with abandoned fervor.

  He separated their mouths and locked his gaze on her passion-infused face. "You're right that you should do what you love. I may not like it - actually, I don't like it, but I won't stop you. However realize this…"

  "What?" She matched his hard stare pound for pound.

  He widened his stance, spun his arms around her waist and yanked her further between his thighs. With his stooped position, her pussy was perfectly aligned with his cock. Her eyes widened when she felt the evidence of his desire. The contact was enough to spike his own awareness of her by several degrees but his voice remained even as he warned, "If you're ever in danger, I'll act as I see fit."

  "What does that mean?" Misha asked breathlessly.

  He lowered his hands to her ass, palmed the lush flesh as he arched his hips against hers. "Exactly what it sounds like."

  His face hardened at the thought of what she might face in future, the risks her passion courted. She hadn't needed him to be her knight tonight, but he was one hundred percent that sometime in the future she'd need him. And he'd be there. He'd protect her with his life if he had to.

  She was danger in a skirt. But she was his danger and he wasn't letting her go. If she chose to walk right into the furnace, then he was coming in too. If they burnt, then the burnt together.

  "Oh." Her breath hitched, the sound reverberating in the hushed living room as her hands fisted over his polo-shirt.

  "And you're starting shooting lessons tomorrow," he murmured entranced by her mouth. He moved one hand to her face and cupped her jaw as his thumb brushed her lips and traced their soft lushness. "If you're going to run around chasing criminals then you'll need better weapons than plates and pans."

  That drew a breathless chuckle from her. "Okay."

  "I also want you to promise me something else."

  "You have a whole list of demands, don't you?" she teased as she brushed her fingers over the back of his neck then pushed them into his hair.

  "Yup." Danny's eyes hooded at the sensations that careened through his body at her touch. Sharp shards of desire pulsed through him, making him harder. "And you'll have to agree to all of them or I'll lock you in the bedroom and never let you out again."

  "Will you now?" A wicked smile tilted her lips as rotated her lower body subtly, grinding her mound into his now-raging erection.

  He smacked her ass. "Don't distract me."

  "Ow." She pouted, drawing his gaze to her mouth's rouged softness.

  He leaned forward to kiss the pout away. Instant heat and passion leapt between them as soon as their lips met again. It took everything in him to end the kiss.

  "What do you want me to promise?" she asked when they drew apart.

  "That you'll never do anything to deliberately risk danger." He schooled his expression into somberness to show her that he was serious. "You can investigate, but if you know shit's coming then you don't walk into it. You call me first and we come up with a game plan. I want you to promise that you'll be careful."

  Her own featured sobered up as she nodded. "I promise."

  "Don't think I won't hold you to it," he warned.

  "You can." Her voice and gaze were resolute, but he watched her for a moment to make sure she was serious. When he was satisfied, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. "Good."

  She stared at him in silence for a couple of seconds before inclining her head. "Do you know how much I love you?" Her words were low, heartfelt and resonating with feeling as she looped both arms around his shoulders. "I do. I really do. Even when you're being overprotective… especially when you're being overprotective."

  Her words were like an elixir, lifting him up and injecting pleasure into his being. His lips kicked up in a smile. "I should have you put that in writing."

  "You're supposed to say you love me too." She laughed before reaching up and drawing his head to hers. They met halfway, their lips connecting in a kiss that brimmed with promise, acceptance and love.

  The kiss was as passionate as it was tender. Their tongues twisted together, explored each other, fired them both until he felt like was spinning in a vortex of passion. He tore his lips from hers to stare at her. The look she gave him was lit with so much undisguised love that the need to have her looking at their son or daughter with that all-embracing love gripped him. He brushed his palm over her soft tummy as he pressed another kiss to her lips. "I love you too."

  Smiling against his mouth, Misha repeated her love to him as she reached for the hem of his polo-shirt, and he for the buttons of her blouse. They
stepped apart briefly so each could shrug out of their respective tops before they came back together again.

  "I was planning to wear something sexy for you," Misha murmured as he unfastened the buttons on her jeans.

  "I prefer you naked." He pushed her pants downwards. The moment he saw the dainty, red, lace underwear she had on his pulse ticked up a notch. He couldn't have stopped himself from touching her even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to.

  His focus centered on her breasts. Even hidden by the red fabric they were a sight for sore eyes. Unbidden, his palms cupped over the lush flesh. He watched her expression closely as he massaged and squeezed the still clothed flesh. Her eyes, hooded with passion, met his as her lips parted in a soundless moan.

  He wanted her screaming. Loudly.

  He yanked the cups upwards and exposed her flesh. This time her gasp was quite audible. It sharpened when he set his big hands back over her and squeezed.

  "So beautiful." The words fell unconsciously from his lips as he kneaded her breasts then run his thumbs over the pouting tips. With one quick move he spun her in place to face away from him as he reached for her bra's clip. A flick later, the fabric sailed to the floor as he once more filled his hands with her bounty.

  "Yasss," she hissed as he took her stiff nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and pinched them. "Aaah."

  He loved those sounds so much he did it again. Her whimpers and mewls filled the heavy air between them as she leaned back into his chest. Her ass started a slow dance over his groin. Despite her panties and his jeans still between them, the grinding was enough to stoke the fire already wreaking havoc over his senses. His cock lengthened, hardened, prodded, begged for more contact and less clothes.

  Her panties needed to go. She moaned in protest when his hands left her breasts to swoop down to the elastic band of her underwear. That protest turned to need when he dragged the flimsy fabric down her hips and let it fall. The moan turned into a whimper when he palmed her ass. He filled his hands with her flesh, squeezed, parted her cheeks so he could fit his cock in the crevice between.

 

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