by Leah Brooke
Dillon cursed and tried to rip it out of his hand, but Ethan jerked it out of his reach. “Open the door, damn it. Something’s wrong. I’ve got to get to her.”
He didn’t bother to ask himself why the thought of her being sick or hurt tied painful knots in his stomach. He just knew that it did.
Ethan glared at him over his shoulder and knocked again. “Miss Bennett, I’m coming inside.”
Dillon shifted impatiently as Ethan used his own master key to open the door. As soon as the door clicked open, he pushed his way inside and raced to the bed where Alison rolled to her back and groaned again.
She blinked, raising herself to an elbow and pushing her long, dark hair out of her eyes, leaving her bangs sticking out in all directions. Groaning again when she saw him, she plopped back down onto the pillow and closed her eyes.
“Get out.”
It came out thready and weak, tying the knots in Dillon’s stomach even tighter. Moving her bag and purse from the other side of the bed to a nearby chair, he never took his eyes from her.
Ethan moved to stand at the foot of the bed. “Ma’am, are you all right? We’ve been knocking at the door and heard you moan. Do you need the doctor?”
Dillon ignored her one-eyed glower and sat on the edge of the bed where he’d made room, reaching out a hand to touch her flushed face. “Are you sick? Your face is flushed.”
He tried not to think about how sexy she looked with her flushed cheeks and mussed hair, like a woman who’d recently been well tumbled. No matter how hard he tried to resist, his eyes kept going to the flash of leg exposed as she simultaneously struggled to sit up and pull the robe more securely around her.
Her movements were clumsy, her attempts to fight off his efforts to help her weak. “No, I’m not sick. I was asleep. What kind of hotel is this that a woman can’t even sleep without someone barging in?”
Ethan smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We were worried when you didn’t answer the door and then when we heard a moan…”
Dillon laid the back of his hand on her forehead, not liking the glassy look in her eyes. “We’re supposed to go to dinner, remember?”
She pouted, sticking out that full bottom lip in an entirely unpretentious way, probably not even realizing she was doing it. The naturalness of the gesture filled him with the overwhelming urge to roll her under him and kiss her until he’d branded her as his own.
Oh, hell. He had it really bad.
Pushing her bangs back, Alison stared at him, the unfocused look in her eyes jabbing an icy wedge into the pit of his stomach. “I said I didn’t want to go out to dinner with you. You share and Ryder hates me.”
Ethan lifted his brow at that. “Well, you certainly seem to know each other better than I thought. I guess I’ll leave you two alone.”
“No, take your friend with you. I want to sleep.”
He turned, pausing as he stared at something on the floor. “Did you take something?”
Dillon looked up at that, his stomach dropping when Ethan bent and retrieved a prescription bottle from the floor. And then another.
Ethan frowned as he read the labels and looked up, meeting Dillon’s eyes. “This is a painkiller, a strong one at that. And the other…I don’t know.” Kneeling on the other side of the bed, he touched Alison’s shoulder, shaking it when her eyes started to close. “How many did you take?”
Alison sighed and started to slump toward Ethan, but Dillon wrapped an arm around her and pulled her toward him. “I only took one of each and they make me sleepy. Just go away.”
Dillon snatched the bottles out of Ethan’s hand and read them himself.
“Are you in pain?”
Her words came out mumbled and slurred. “Not’nymore. Go ’way.”
Alarmed, he tilted her head back, but her eyes had already closed again. “Do you usually fall asleep like this? Alison?” Dillon shook her, but other than moaning again, she didn’t answer. He looked up at Ethan. “Look, I don’t like this. I’m staying here with her. I’m going to call Doc and see what the hell these other pills are.”
After a brief phone call with Dr. Hansen, Dillon felt slightly better.
“He said that it’s a muscle relaxer and that if she takes these together, it could put her to sleep for several hours. Look, Ethan. I can’t leave her alone like this. Would you really feel comfortable knowing one of your guests, a woman, was passed out from medication and all alone?”
Ethan sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Of course not. But she’s a guest, Dillon. I don’t want to invade her privacy.”
“I just want to make sure she’s all right. She’s new here, and if she has a problem, I need to call somebody. I’ll let her sleep for a little while longer and then order something to eat. If she’s taking pain medicine, I don’t want her going all night with nothing in her stomach.” Dillon laid her back gently on the bed, not having any idea what part of her body she’d taken the pain medicine for.
The realization that he knew so little about her, even though he’d started to feel protective and possessive toward her, hit him hard.
Ethan looked torn, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Hell, Dillon. I hate letting someone in a woman’s room, especially when she told us to go, but I don’t want her left alone if she’s sick or in pain. I trust you, but you promise me right now that nothing will happen here tonight, not even if she wants it to. She’s taken prescription medicine and is obviously somewhat incapacitated. Promise me.”
Insulted, Dillon came to his feet. “I don’t rape women, for God’s sake!”
Ethan straightened to his full height and glared at him. “I never said you did. You’re awfully fucking touchy about a woman you just met.”
Dillon shot a glance at the bed when Alison mumbled and stirred, lowering his voice. “She’s in good hands with me. I’ll watch out for her and order something for her to eat a little later. That’s it. I can’t just leave her alone.”
When his cell phone rang, Ethan waved a hand and started out of the room. “I trust you with her. Let me know if you need anything.”
He answered his phone, turning back to look at Alison again. “Sullivan. Yeah, Brandon, everything’s all right. Hold on.”
Holding the phone to his chest, Ethan smiled while Dillon laid his palm over Alison’s exposed leg and, finding it cold, hurriedly tucked it inside the blanket. “Are you sure you’re all right with her? Do you want me to call Ryder?”
Afraid she might get chilled, Dillon pulled the blanket up to cover Alison completely, tucking it in around her. “We’re fine.”
He forced himself to look up at Ethan, not wanting to take his eyes from Alison’s sleeping form. She looked so lost and defenseless, nothing at all like the woman who’d fluttered her lashes and offered herself to him only a short time ago.
The possessive instincts he thought he’d buried long ago didn’t just float gently to the surface. They seemed to all break free at once, bombarding his system until he couldn’t breathe.
Surprised to see that his hand shook, he tightened it into a fist.
“I promise to call Doc if she needs him. I know painkillers can really knock you out.” Turning back to Alison, he smoothed her hair back from her face, frowning at the small scar he found at her hairline that looked fairly new.
“I wonder what she’s taking painkillers for.”
“You’ll have to ask her that when she wakes up. Dillon, uh, are you sure you don’t want me to call Ryder?”
“I’m sure.”
When Ethan’s brows went up at his abrupt answer, Dillon sighed, straightening. “Ryder and Alison didn’t exactly hit it off. I’ll call him in a bit and let him know I’m staying here for a while.”
Ignoring Ethan’s speculative look, he pulled an empty chair closer to the bed. Without taking the time to consider his actions, he took Alison’s hand in his, frowning at the series of tiny scars over the back of it. He wanted to look at the other, but she had it cu
rled against her cheek, and he didn’t want to wake her.
Ethan nodded once. “Call if you need me.” Lifting the phone back to his ear, he resumed his conversation.
Dillon could hear him telling Brandon about Alison as he stepped out into the hallway, while closing the door quietly behind him.
Wondering what happened to her and why she needed to take painkillers, he clenched his jaw. Releasing her hand, he ran his fingers over her dark, sleek hair, smiling to find it as silky as it looked.
“Well, Alison, we’re alone, but this isn’t exactly the way I’d planned it.”
He couldn’t help but smile when she pursed her lips in her sleep and sighed.
He ran his fingertip over the outer shell of her ear, marveling that an ear could look so delicate. “Alison Bennett, what the hell is it about you that has me so turned inside out?”
Sitting back in the surprisingly comfortable chair, he toed off his shoes and settled back, lifting his feet onto the bed and staring at her. She’d seemed so shy and nervous on the ride to town and had blushed a deep pink when asking questions about Rachel’s marriage to two men. Even in the parking lot when she’d propositioned him, she wouldn’t meet his eyes and her face had turned bright red.
She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who offered herself so readily, and her reaction to learning that he and Ryder shared their women would have been comical if Ryder hadn’t gotten so bent out of shape about it.
After several minutes, he got up to turn on a low light, not wanting her to wake up to a dark room. Making himself as comfortable as he could, he turned on the television, muting it before digging his cell phone out of his pocket, staring at it as he contemplated calling Ryder, and then tossed it onto the nightstand.
With a sigh, he ignored the television and leaned back to stare at Alison.
As he watched, she shifted in her sleep, rolling to her left side and once again sticking her leg out from under the covers. The robe she wore parted when she moved her leg and slid completely off of her hip.
Dillon stilled, holding his breath. The belt of her robe had come loose, and her right side had become almost completely uncovered, only her arm in front of her holding the robe over her breast. Staring in fascination at the long expanse of skin now exposed, Dillon dragged his feet from the bed and knelt beside it, his movements slow and quiet so as not to wake her.
Only the bunched blanket kept her mound from his view, a view he desperately wanted to enjoy.
Unable to take his eyes from her creamy skin, he leaned forward, frowning at the scar on her hip. It looked fairly fresh, perhaps several months old. The pink line was straight, not curved or jagged. The faint outline around it appeared to be where stitches had been.
He couldn’t help but run his fingers lightly over it, stilling when she moaned. Once she settled again, he bent to touch his lips to the scar as though kissing it would somehow make it better.
Anger at himself for not being with her when she’d been hurt made no sense at all, but it was there, gnawing at him.
He couldn’t ignore the length of soft skin exposed, the need to touch her irresistible.
Keeping his touch light, he ran his fingers over her outer thigh to her knee. On impulse, he trailed his fingers around and over the back of her knee, smiling to himself when she moaned and rolled to her back, her arm falling to the side.
“You liked that, didn’t you, baby?”
“Dillon.”
He froze, staring at her in stunned delight.
He didn’t think his cock could get much harder, and his hands literally itched to touch her.
He had no rights with her right now, but he vowed to himself that he would.
And soon.
As carefully as possible, he covered her again, tucking the robe and blanket around her. Grimacing as he moved, he settled into the chair again, adjusting his pants to ease the almost painful throbbing of his cock.
“Who are you, Alison Bennett?” Watching as she shifted in her sleep, he smiled when she stuck her foot out from under the covers again.
So, his little darling didn’t like having her foot covered when she slept. He found it cute as hell, such a minor thing, but incredibly intimate. He frowned thoughtfully when his cock stirred, amazed that he found such a little thing so arousing.
Picking up his cell phone again, he ran his thumb over the numbers, thinking about the look on Ryder’s face as he pulled away. He couldn’t get over the feeling that his friend should know what was going on with Alison.
He started to dial, and just as quickly disconnected.
Ryder was probably knee deep in women by now and wouldn’t welcome the call. Fuck it. If he didn’t answer, Dillon would just leave a message.
Staring at Alison, he dialed, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to walk away from her anytime soon. He smiled at the warm feeling that settled over him and the surge of anticipation at the hunt ahead of him and waited for Ryder to answer.
Chapter Three
Ryder sat at the bar in Club Desire, frustrated, pissed off with himself, and wondering why he’d thought coming here tonight would be a good idea.
No, he knew why he’d come and sure as hell wouldn’t lie to himself about it.
He’d come with the sole intention of wiping the image of the look on Ally’s sweet face when she offered herself to Dillon out of his mind.
She’d been red and flustered, her adorable attempt at acting the seductress more arousing than anything he could remember.
She’d fucking blindsided him.
Learning about Rachel’s relationship with Boone and Chase, she’d been both embarrassed and intrigued.
The combination made him hard as a rock, the growing need for her making him ill tempered and restless. When she’d offered herself to Dillon, he’d had the almost uncontrollable need to throw her over his shoulder and storm off with her. After several hours of wild sex, she would be putty in his hands, and that sweet mouth and luscious body would be all his.
Fuck, he couldn’t even stop thinking about her for more than a few minutes at a time.
He should have had some kind of warning.
How the hell was he supposed to handle having the rug pulled out from under him without having some kind of warning?
Determined to forget all about the adorable brat that had somehow wormed her way into his head and consumed his thoughts, he focused his attention on his surroundings.
The small stage had already been set up in preparation for tonight’s activities, something he usually looked forward to.
Tonight, he couldn’t seem to give a damn, which pissed him off even more.
What was Dillon doing to her right now?
Fuck.
He looked at his watch, only to see that only five minutes had passed since the last time he’d looked at it.
Dillon would probably end up spending the night with Alison, fucking her senseless, and wouldn’t come home until morning.
“Where’s Dillon?”
Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face and considered leaving. He’d been asked the same question at least a dozen times since he got here. He turned his head to meet Rio Erickson’s gaze as he slid onto the barstool next to him.
“Dillon’s on a date.”
Rio’s brow went up. He looked like he wanted to say something but snapped his mouth shut and nodded.
Staring back at the stage, Ryder took a sip of his beer. “We towed her truck in when it broke down just outside of town. She’s staying at the hotel. Her name’s Ally—Alison.”
Frowning down into his beer, he wondered why the hell he’d volunteered that information, and tried not to think of how the way Ally’s name just rolled off his tongue. “Where’s Clay?”
“Right here.” Clay took the seat on the other side of him and ordered a drink for himself. “Jesse and Kelly are busy setting up a display at the club for tomorrow’s demonstration. We drove her over and carried all the stuff in, so we thought
we’d come over and have a beer while we wait for her. Where’s Dillon?”
“On a date.” Ryder gritted his teeth together and slumped his shoulders, leaning over his beer, and stared straight ahead, watching in the mirror as Clay and Rio shared a look over his head.
After a pregnant pause, Rio took a sip of his own beer. “You not interested in her?”
Knowing Rio and Clay’s history, Ryder didn’t get offended at the question. They’d shared women for years until Clay met a woman Rio couldn’t stand. When Clay got her pregnant and married her, it had been the beginning of a long road of unhappiness for both of them. They’d each married and had children, but neither could get over their desire to share a woman.
Once their boys got older and they divorced their wives, they’d both thought it too late to find the happiness they’d missed.
Until Jesse came to town to visit her sister.
They’d taken one look at her and fallen head over heels.
He’d never really believed it had happened so fast.
Hell, she’d probably blindsided both of them, too.
Women like that should have some kind of warning attached to them.
Now Jesse was married to both Clay and Rio and Ryder had never seen his friends happier. Even now their desire to get back to their wife was evident in the way they both kept glancing toward the window, and the fact that they both kept checking the display on the cell phones they’d placed on the bar in front of them.
He didn’t doubt for a second that as soon as the phone rang, they’d jump on it and light out of the club as if their asses were on fire.
Lucky bastards.
This restlessness each time he saw his married friends with their women had to stop. He had no intention of losing his freedom, especially to a shy little brat with big brown eyes and cute little dimples and the curviest ass he’d ever laid eyes on.
Fuck.
Ryder took another sip of his now warm beer and grimaced. “We didn’t exactly hit it off. It’s no big deal. She won’t be in town long, anyway.”
