Redeye

by Becca Jameson

  His eyes widened and then he nodded. “Right. Makes sense. Got it. So, should I make coffee?”

  “Nope. I just need to move around. I’ll probably unpack a few things and then peruse my computer a bit, look for another apartment, check my emails, stuff like that. Then I’ll go for a run when I get tired.”

  He gasped. “A run? In the middle of the night?”

  She shrugged. “I do that a lot.”

  “But it’s not safe.”

  “It is what it is. I refuse to live my life in fear, and I have to work out just like everyone else. It’s just that my day doesn’t match other people’s.”

  He inhaled slowly. “Okay, then. I’ll join you.” He reached for another slice of pizza and handed it to her. “If this time of day is really your lunch, then I guess I better feed you, get you unpacked, and find my running shoes.”

  She stared at him. Was he for real? He seemed genuine. He still hadn’t pressured her in any way. And damn, she kind of wished he would make a move. She wasn’t the kind of woman to make the first move, but what was he waiting for? She was certainly interested. She’d never been this into a guy. Especially one she’d just met.

  The truth was, she’d been kind of influenced by Libby. Libby had met Jason at Destiny and Trent’s wedding. She had set her sights on him and they ended up banging in his hotel room all night. They never even had a first date. Just an amazing night of sex.

  Christa had been with Libby at the rehearsal dinner when she’d picked out Jason among the crowd, squared her shoulders, and staked her claim on him. The honest truth was that Christa had been jealous of Libby’s ability to go for it. Christa had always been too timid to do something like that. Half the reason why she’d joked with Jason about setting her up with one of his friends was because she had some sort of wishful hope she could let herself go. Relax. Enjoy a one-night stand.

  Instead, as soon as Mack showed up, all gentlemanlike, she’d found herself liking him more than she expected. On top of that, he’d treated her like spun gold instead of a bimbo. Equally unexpected.

  And here she was, having a serious conversation with the man. He’d gotten her to talk more right away than anyone she’d ever dated. And now he was going to freaking help her unpack her stuff into his house and go for a late-night jog with her? Was he real?

  Chapter 7

  Mack was impressed with Christa’s stamina. If anyone would have asked him if Christa could stay up all night in her apparent state of exhaustion, he would have laughed at them. Instead, she got a second wind. First, she unpacked her stuff into his guest room. Then, she checked her computer while standing at his kitchen bar—because she said it would be a bad idea to sit down.

  When he found her standing in front of her computer, she was frowning, staring at it intently, her brow furrowed.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She jerked her gaze up. “Oh, yeah. I guess. If you don’t mind child trafficking happening under my nose on my watch.”

  He flinched. “What?” He came to her side.

  She pointed at the screen. It was an email from the airline. “Apparently they suspect a particular ring of human traffickers is moving young girls from state to state on Open Skies airplanes.”

  He leaned in closer and read over her shoulder. “Christa, this is very serious.”

  “Obviously.” She shuddered next to him. “We train for this once a year, but it’s hard to specifically notice. I would die if I missed the signs and found out something happened on one of my flights.”

  He set a hand on her lower back and faced her. “Well, they’ve given you a list of warning signs. All you can do is be on the lookout.”

  She sighed. “Yeah. Do you have any idea how many odd family units I see every day?”

  He nodded. “I can imagine. I’ve seen a lot in the military, too. Even child trafficking. On more than one occasion, I’ve been sent in to rescue someone only to find ten kids huddled in a corner. It’s so hard to know if they belonged there or not. Sometimes a family has ten kids. Sometimes they’re cousins. Other times, they’ve been stolen from another family and sold on the black market for slave labor or even into the foreign army. Discerning the difference is hard.”

  “Jesus,” she breathed out.

  He pulled her into his embrace. “Sorry. That was unnecessary. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  She shook her head. “No. You’re right. I need to know this stuff. It’s just so hard to believe it happens right here in our country.”

  “More often than you can imagine.”

  She finally took a deep breath and pulled back. “On that note, time for a run.” She forced a smile and left him standing in the kitchen. It was the middle of the night, closer to morning by now. Mack hoped he could keep up with her.

  When she returned five minutes later in a tight black sports bra and hot pink spandex leggings, he nearly swallowed his tongue. This outfit was even sexier than the damn clothes she’d worn all day. He had to tie his shoe three times because he kept getting it wrong.

  She impressed him next with her speed and distance. He was in damn good shape and had been his entire life, but this woman could keep up. They went five miles, and she barely looked winded.

  Watching her stretch in his breakfast room after they returned was a trial in and of itself. It took every bit of his willpower to keep from grabbing her by the waist, setting her ass on the edge of his table, stripping off her tight pants, and fucking the life out of her. The image went through his mind over and over, and his dick was harder than a rock when she left the room saying she was going to take a shower.

  He groaned as he went to his own bathroom and stepped into the master shower at the same time. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but her naked body on the other side of the wall, water sluicing down her pale skin, nipples pebbled, hands running over them.

  Fuck.

  There was no way he could leave this shower without taking himself in hand. He wasn’t even going to pretend that was a possibility. Instead, he planted one hand on the wall, set his forehead against the tile, and fisted his cock with his other hand. Teeth gritted to keep from moaning, he easily came in just a few short thrusts, his come jutting out in powerful arcs.

  Unfortunately, the release did nothing to convince his dick to stand down, and when he emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, he was wearing loose sweatpants.

  Christa was in his kitchen and he liked seeing her there. She turned to face him. She was wearing a similar outfit to yesterday morning. T-shirt. Shorts. So practical. So sexy. If this was how he reacted to her in regular clothes, how would he survive Christa in sexy lingerie?

  Her soft voice jerked him out of his musings. “I hope you don’t mind I helped myself. I found a glass and made a protein shake.” She lifted the powered drink mix from the counter. “I brought it with me.”

  He was once again impressed. A chick who drank protein shakes? “Not at all. Help yourself to whatever you need. If there’s something you want me to get at the store, let me know.”

  She had her head tipped back, half the drink drained, when she stopped and lowered her gaze, holding the glass in front of her. “I promise I’m not going to impose on you for more than a few days. Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure something out when I’m hungry. I don’t want to be a burden.”

  He continued forward, drawn to her like a fucking puppy. He needed to touch her again. Kiss her. Hold her in his arms. The urgency was making him shake from withdrawal symptoms like she was a drug.

  He approached slowly as she finished the drink, and then he took the glass from her, set it on the counter, and flattened her to the sink. Pinning her in place with his hands braced on both sides of her, he met her gaze. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

  “Okay,” she whispered all cute-like.

  He smiled as he lowered his face and took her lips. She tasted of the vanilla protein shake and her own personal flavor he’d come to enjoy imme
nsely. He only permitted his lips to touch her. Nothing else. He deepened the kiss by angling his head to one side and stifling the urge to moan into her mouth.

  She surprised him when her hands came to his waist and smoothed around to his back, trailing up his bare skin. The feel of her dainty palms on him made his cock jump back to full attention.

  Finally, he knew he was close to snapping. His dominant side was itching to grab her by the waist and make good on his earlier visualization. This time it wasn’t his cock he wanted to slam into her. He wanted to drag her loose sleep shorts off and bury his face between her legs. Apparently, this was becoming a theme with him. Indecision about what he wanted to do with her first.

  Mack knew he had a problem. He was not usually the sort of man to take his time and make slow, gentle love to a woman. He wasn’t sure he’d ever done it, actually. He liked to ravage a woman. Most women he dated instigated things by climbing all over him before he managed to get into her house.

  On that thought, he broke the kiss and literally jumped back a step. He was breathing heavily and ran a hand down his face. He’d never had a woman sleep here in this house. Not once in his life. The realization fully dawned on him.

  Christa’s face was pink, and her eyes were wide. “What’s wrong?”

  Jesus. He was such a dick right now. He grabbed her a bit roughly and pulled her against his chest. If nothing else, he needed her cheek against his pecs so that her sweet, innocent eyes weren’t on him. “Nothing,” he murmured against the top of her head. Her damp hair smelled like vanilla, and he inhaled deeply of her clean scent. “I just got carried away.”

  Being this close to her was also a bad idea. He reluctantly released her, took her hand, and turned to drag her down the hallway. He nearly shoved her into her room. “Go to sleep, Christa. Before I lose my control.”

  As he backed away from her, she bit into her lower lip and leaned against the doorframe. He was halfway down the hall, gaze still on hers when she spoke. “I never asked you not to lose your control.”

  Mack hesitated, a groan threatening to erupt. “Christa…” Did she have any idea how tempting she was?

  She smiled at him sweetly and then turned to enter his guest room. “Just saying…”

  He stared at the closed door for several seconds, willing himself not to rush over, open it, and toss her onto the bed.

  Chapter 8

  Christa slept harder than she thought she would. When she woke up and checked her phone, it was noon. At least she’d slept six hours. She could live on six. Anything less was detrimental. She was behind on sleep in general though after the previous night.

  Noises were coming from the kitchen, and she smiled as she slid out of bed and glanced around. She didn’t bother changing out of the sleep shorts and T-shirt she’d worn to bed. He’d already seen her like this twice. No reason to change anything.

  She needed coffee, so she padded down the hallway while gathering her hair up to twist it into a bun on top of her head. She could already smell cinnamon and wondered what Mack was up to.

  When she stepped into the kitchen, she was smiling. She couldn’t wait to see what a disheveled Mack looked like in the morning.

  Instead, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  Mack was not in his kitchen. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. A woman was, though. And she was pulling something out of the oven. Christa could only see the back of her. Who the hell is this woman?

  She was younger. Early twenties. She had medium-length, thick, wavy black hair that was pulled up in a loose ponytail. She wore a black tank top and white short-shorts. She was about the same height as Christa, but curvier.

  Christa stood just inside the kitchen, her messy bun finished, her arms lowering to her sides as she waited for the woman to turn around.

  When she did, she gasped and jumped back when she spotted Christa. She awkwardly managed to set the baking sheet on the trivet on the island. “Shit. You scared me. Who are you?”

  Christa stared at the woman a moment, thinking that question should be hers. Her heart was racing now. Please, God, tell me this is Mack’s sister or something. She had no idea if Mack even had a sister. Obviously, he did. “I’m Christa. Please tell me you’re Mack’s sister.”

  A slow smile formed on the woman’s face, but it was cocky and deliberate. Not polite. She stood taller and pulled her shoulders back. “Mack doesn’t have a sister.”

  Well, damn. “Okay… Then you are…?”

  “I live next door.” She grabbed a spatula and started lifting cinnamon rolls off the pan to set them on a cooling rack. As if she lived there.

  “What are you doing?”

  She smirked and lifted a brow. “If you can’t figure that out, you might need some cooking lessons.”

  Christa’s spine went rigid. What a bitch. “Ah, a comedian. Cute. Why are you here?”

  She lifted her gaze, lids drawn high. “I was about to ask you the same thing. What bar did he pick you up from last night? He must have been crazy drunk and lonely. He should have called me.”

  Christa flinched. Okay, not just a bitch. A fucking bitch. “Does he usually call you?” she managed to ask, trying to remain calm.

  “Of course. We’re close.” She picked up a key ring on the counter and dangled it before setting it back down. “I have my own key. I come and go. Help him out. Whatever he needs.” She added that last part with a lilt in her voice, making it clear that she serviced him in many ways.

  Christa glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway she’d just come from. “Where is Mack now?” She felt stupid that she didn’t know. The woman was way under her skin.

  “Ahh, did he slip out and leave you sleeping? I could get you some aspirin if you have a hangover. I know right where it is, just like everything else.”

  Christa was close to losing her cool. “Not necessary.”

  “Well, Mack went out for a while. I’m sure it’ll be easier if you’re gone when he gets back.” She made a ridiculous scrunched face. “Less awkward, ya know? He was probably trying to spare you the embarrassment. I could order you an Uber?”

  This made Christa laugh, and that’s when the garage door opened and Mack stepped inside. He was carrying several grocery bags. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised to find two women in his kitchen, nor did he flinch.

  Mack set the groceries on the counter. “Hey, Tina.” He gave the brunette who’d never shared her name a side hug and leaned over the island, inhaling with his gaze on the cinnamon rolls. “I guess you two met.”

  “Yep,” Tina said cheerfully, her demeanor having taken a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. “I offered to get her an Uber or something, but she declined.”

  Mack laughed as he picked up a cinnamon roll and then moaned around the first bite. “Christa is staying here, Tina. I was helping her move yesterday and her apartment fell through. She’s going to stay until she can find a place to live.” He grabbed a second cinnamon roll and rounded the island and held it out toward Christa.

  She considered taking it from him and throwing it at the bimbo across the kitchen. Instead, she politely shook her head. “No thanks.”

  He shrugged and ate it himself before turning around and starting up the Keurig. “I picked up cream and sugar for you. Have a seat. I’ll have the perfect iced coffee in your hands in two minutes.”

  Christa took his advice, sitting at the kitchen table, mostly because her knees were about to give way. She considered turning around and heading back into the guest room but decided not to give Tina the satisfaction. Plus, she wasn’t about to leave the two of them alone. She wanted to see their interaction firsthand.

  Mack ignored Tina almost entirely, but the brunette watched his every move, her gaze roaming up and down his body as if he were an ice cream cone she wanted to lick. Christa wanted to slap her.

  Mack finally turned toward Tina while waiting for the coffee to brew. “Did you end up taking any summer classes? Or did you get a job?”

  “Neit
her. I was exhausted after last semester. I need a break. Mom and Dad aren’t too pleased. They seem to think I should work in fast food or babysit or something. I finally convinced them to let me be for the summer.”

  Mack nodded. “No wonder you have so much time on your hands. You don’t have to spend your summer checking in on me, you know. I can manage to cook on my own,” he teased.

  Christa watched their dynamic closely. It was fascinating how Tina spoke to him like he was her big brother while Christa had seen a far different side of the woman.

  Tina shrugged. “Someone has to take care of you, B.B. I don’t mind at all. Gives me something to do. Besides, it gives your mom peace of mind too,” she joked. “This way she knows you eat healthy and maintain her house.”

  Mack chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I can manage those things on my own, Tina, but if it makes everyone happy, knock yourself out.”

  Tina set her hand on Mack’s biceps and leaned into him. “I’m gonna run. Let me know if you need anything. I guess you’ve got someone to help you out around here for a few days. I’ll check in.”

  He gave her ponytail a tug and nodded. “See ya later.”

  Tina tossed Christa an exaggerated grin as she skipped toward the back door. “Hope you find a place soon, Christa. So nice meeting you.” And then she was gone.

  Christa sat frozen in her seat while Mack made her iced coffee and then joined her with yet another cinnamon roll in his hand. “Damn, these are good. You sure you don’t want one?”

  Christa stared at him. “What was that?”

  “What?” He stopped chewing and glanced around. “Tina?”

  “Yes, Tina.” She struggled to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  He swallowed his bite and shrugged. “Sorry. I should have mentioned her. I wasn’t thinking. She lives next door. I’ve known her her whole life. She takes care of the house when I’m not home. She’s like a sister.”