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Hitz Page 5

by Sherryl Hancock


  “That’s what I mean. Don’t you think your effect on me would have worn off by now? Maybe I just want to see where you live now, to see how you’ve turned out.”

  Skyler looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not my effect I’m worried about.”

  “Well, my intentions are honorable, I promise,” she said, holding up her right hand.

  “Uh-huh.” Skyler didn’t sound the least bit convinced. “Okay, Billy, you win.”

  The drive took an hour; he lived out of the city, in Marysville. Billy was pleasantly surprised to see his home was a combination of ranch and Spanish styles. It even had a fair-sized piece of land attached to it.

  “You live out here all by yourself?” she asked, getting out of the car and looking around.

  “It’s peaceful,” Skyler said, shrugging as he walked toward the front door.

  “Almost too peaceful for me,” Billy said, shivering. “Don’t you go a little stir crazy out here?”

  “It has its moments.”

  Skyler opened the door to reveal a very open, airy home. There were comfortable-looking couches and chairs in the living room, in creams, beiges, and tans. Billy proceeded to walk through the house, looking at everything. Skyler watched her, amused by what appeared to be her genuine interest. She examined pictures and sculptures, touched fabrics, ran her hand over the wooden furniture and the textured walls. Skyler followed her for a while, then gave up trying to understand what she was doing. She found him a half hour later, sitting in the corner of the overstuffed sofa, his feet up on a big cushiony ottoman, a bottle of beer in his hand, his head back against the cushions, his eyes closed. She watched him for a moment, trying to determine if he was actually asleep or just resting his eyes. Then she moved to sit on the ottoman, just beside his feet. Reaching over, she took the bottle out of his hand and took a drink. He opened one light green eye and looked at her.

  “Done?”

  She grinned and nodded. “You’ve got a pretty cool place, Sky.”

  “It’s comfortable,” he said, sitting up.

  “And no wives this time,” she added, to which he nodded. She gestured around her. “And you did all this yourself?”

  “Most of it—I’m not a monk, you know.” His expression was sly, a grin pulling at his lips.

  “I see… so some of your girlfriends helped?” Billy asked conversationally.

  “Some.”

  “And are you currently involved?”

  “Maybe.”

  “That was a yes or no question, Skyler James, not a maybe question,” she said, as if scolding a child.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s not polite to answer a question with a question?”

  “Yes, and my father told me to duck and cover.”

  Billy grinned at him. “Okay, so I won’t ask about your personal life. So what do you do out here all alone?” She stood and started pacing. As she walked past him, he grabbed his beer from her hand. She smiled down at him. “Is that your answer?”

  “I relax, Billy. It’s something you should try sometime.”

  “I’m not ready to relax yet, Skyler. I got things to do, places to go, all that.” Her tone was businesslike, her manner rapid-fire.

  “You always did burn it at both ends,” Skyler said, leaning his head back against the cushions again and closing his eyes. He was almost surprised when she straddled his legs. He opened his eyes to see her looking down at him.

  “Yes, I did, and for a while there you burned it with me,” she said suggestively.

  Skyler’s expression didn’t change. “That was a long time ago, Billy.”

  “I remember it.”

  “So do I, but memory isn’t good enough in this case.”

  Billy looked at him for a long moment. “You aren’t trying to tell me…” She trailed off. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wasn’t capable of doing what they’d done before.

  But he was shaking his head and grinning. “Hell no. I’m old, little girl, but not that old.” He looked heavenward. “If I ever get that old I hope they’ll put me out of my misery. I’m just saying that memory tends to be better than reality.”

  “I see,” Billy said, nodding. She rolled to the side and ended up lying on the couch, her legs outstretched next to his, her booted feet on the ottoman. She looked up at him. “So how’s TV here?”

  Skyler laughed. “A good substitute for sex anytime, eh?”

  Billy shrugged. “What can I say—Jerith’s turned me into a couch potato.”

  They sat on the couch and watched TV for a while. Skyler had been surprised that she’d given up so easily, and a little bit disappointed, but he was sure he was right. She sat up and glanced over at him. “It’s hot in here.”

  “You’re from southern California—ninety is not hot here.”

  She stood up, looking down at him haughtily. “Well, I’m dyin’.” She turned and walked down the hall.

  “Where’re you going?” he yelled after her, but she didn’t answer.

  She reappeared ten minutes later, wearing one of his Oxford-style shirts and nothing else. She’d pulled her hair up away from her neck by twisting it into a knot and sticking a pencil through it. Black curls escaped around her face. She did indeed look cooler. Suddenly Skyler felt a little warm, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the weather.

  “Feel better?” he asked as she walked by him. He caught sight of her legs and closed his eyes for a quick second.

  “Yeah,” she said, sitting down with one leg folded under her.

  Skyler noticed that the shirt was unbuttoned just low enough that he could catch glimpses of her tanned chest and the curve of her breasts. He was sure he was going to go crazy if he stayed in the same room with her.

  He stood up and walked into the kitchen. He opened the freezer door and stood with his head bowed in it. This time he did jump when she came up behind him. He felt her hands slide up under his shirt and onto his bare skin. He closed his eyes, feeling his body respond instantly to her touch. She’d had this effect on him before too. Reaching down, he grabbed her hands and pulled her body flush against his back. He could feel her every curve, and he knew he had no choice now. Pulling her hands away from him, he turned, his head coming down to hers only to find that her lips were already waiting for his. He held her tightly, actually lifting her off her feet to get her closer to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kiss was passionate, almost bruising.

  He carried her easily over to the counter and set her down. Her legs remained around his waist, her hands grasping at his back, her nails grazing his skin, causing him to shiver. He went to remove the shirt; the buttons were too small, and in his haste he pulled the garment apart, the buttons bouncing to the floor.

  When his hands touched her bare skin, Billy was sure she was actually on fire. She couldn’t believe the sensations he was causing in her. It was as if they’d never been apart, as if the ten years between their encounters had never existed.

  As he deftly removed his shirt, she found that his chest was even more defined than it had been years before. She spread her hands over the muscles, feeling them ripple as he grasped at her waist, responding to the feeling of her touching his skin.

  They made love, and Billy was convinced that her body had shattered into a million pieces as it finally gave in to her need. Afterward, he carried her to his room. They left behind them a trail of clothes and the freezer door open.

  In his bedroom he laid her gently on the bed and lay down beside her on his back, staring up at the ceiling, obviously still coming back down from their lovemaking. Billy snuggled close to him, wanting to absorb the feeling of him next to her skin. She rested her head on his chest. He pulled at the pencil in her hair, releasing it from the bun. She smiled, remembering that he’d always liked her hair loose. Neither of them spoke, as if by some unstated rule. His hand was buried in her hair, and she moved hers rhythmically, stroking the
hair on his chest.

  Billy didn’t try to analyze what had happened between them, or what it meant. All she knew was that she had wanted him desperately most of the day, and she could tell that he had been affected by her too. She’d seen the look on his face when he stood from the couch, recognizing it from years before, and had after a minute’s hesitation followed him into the kitchen. She’d had to stifle a laugh when she saw him standing there with his head in the freezer, as if she’d let him off that easily. She hadn’t, and his response to her touch had only served to excite her further. Billy drifted off to sleep thinking that he’d lied to her; he certainly hadn’t had any trouble measuring up to her memories.

  Skyler felt her breathing become even, and he knew she had fallen asleep. He blew his breath out in a heavy sigh. He had been surprised at his body’s ready response to her, but he knew he shouldn’t have been. It had been a long time between women. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had offers—he just hadn’t accepted any of them. It was too much trouble. He glanced down at the raven-haired vixen lying next to him and realized all his avoidance of trouble had been for naught. Trouble had been visited upon him ten-fold. He equated Billy to a freight train, and she’d just plowed into him at top speed.

  Two hours later, Billy woke just as the sun began to set. Her head was still resting on Skyler’s chest. She glanced up at him and saw that he was asleep. She got up carefully and walked over to his closet, where she pulled out another of his shirts; the last one had seen its demise that day. She grinned, thinking about the buttons flying everywhere. It excited her no end that he was so passionate. Skyler was the only man she’d ever been with who had been intense enough—and blatant enough about it—to do something like ripping the clothes off her. She knew that was part of what drew her to him. She wondered idly if that was why he had been married so many times, that he’d been too intense for his wives. Billy realized that not all women liked intensity in a man—some considered it obsessive or something—but not her. It gave her a thrill like no other. She hadn’t even experienced that kind of fervor with Jerith; he had been great in bed, but far too mild for her tastes.

  Billy walked out the back door to Skyler’s house and sat on the railing of his veranda, watching the sun go down. She wore her black leggings under his shirt, since it was getting a little chilly.

  She didn’t hear Skyler come outside, but she didn’t start when his hands slid around her waist. She leaned back, resting against him, his face next to hers. She glanced up and saw that he was staring into the distance.

  “Did I tell you that you look even better now than you did ten years ago?” she said, her voice light.

  He grinned. “No, but I think you’re full of shit,” he said playfully.

  “I see,” she said, sitting up and turning around on the railing to face him. She reached out and pulled him closer, so that he stood between her parted legs. She put her arms around his neck and looked down at him. He was wearing jeans and nothing else. “And you assume this because?”

  “Because you like to pump up my ego. You think it’ll get you somewhere.”

  “And it won’t?” she said, raising a cynical brow.

  “Probably not where you want it to.”

  She grinned. “And where’s that?”

  “I never do know with you, Billy,” Skyler said, turning his head to rest it against her chest. Billy was surprised, but she brought her hands up to stroke his hair, almost as if he were a child she was trying to comfort.

  “You really don’t trust me, do you, Skyler?” she said, a little bit hurt.

  He said nothing, but after a long moment, he shook his head.

  “If anyone has a reason not to trust somebody, it would be me with you, not the other way around,” Billy said.

  He looked up at her. His eyes were serious. “Why’s that?”

  “You’re the one that left last time, Sky, not me,” she said, with a harsh edge to her voice.

  “Yeah, I know,” Skyler said evenly. “It must have been some self-preservation instinct.” Then he turned and walked back to the house.

  Billy stared after him, openmouthed. After a few minutes, anger flooded her veins. She hated when men walked out on an argument. She hopped down from the railing and strode into the house. She found him in the bedroom; he was standing with his foot up on a chair, tying his tennis shoes. He was wearing a shirt now, which he hadn’t buttoned yet.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked angrily.

  “Taking you back to your hotel.”

  “Like hell you are,” she retorted, striding over to stand next to him.

  Skyler shrugged. “Fine. I’ll drop you back at the police department then.”

  “I’m not going anywhere till we finish this.”

  Skyler moved to sit on the bed and started to button his shirt. He looked at her, his eyes telling her that he had news for her.

  Billy watched him for a long moment, then walked over and slapped his hands away from his shirt. She proceeded to undo the buttons he’d just done up, rebelliously looking directly into his eyes.

  When the shirt was totally open again, he shook his head. “So, I’ll take you without my shirt buttoned,” he said challengingly.

  “You aren’t taking me anywhere, Skyler. You’re going to tell me what the hell you meant by that comment out there!”

  Skyler’s light green eyes gazed back at her calmly. His apparent composure served to make her even angrier.

  “Damn it, Skyler, say something!” she yelled, losing her cool even further.

  “Something,” he replied obligingly. His face was a mask of self-control.

  “Damn you!” Billy screamed. “What did you mean by self-preservation? I think I have a right to know.”

  “You don’t know what the term means?”

  “Don’t be an asshole, Skyler. It’s not becoming on you,” she muttered, her eyes flashing angrily. “I want to know how you’ve managed to twist it so it applies to me.”

  “No twisting involved, Billy.” He stood up and looked down at her casually. “You ready to go?”

  “No!” she growled, putting her hands on his chest, intent on shoving him back down on the bed. Skyler didn’t move. When she moved her hands, he sat obligingly. She narrowed her eyes at his show of power. “Tell me what you meant,” she said threateningly.

  “Or what?” Skyler raised an eyebrow, his eyes telling her he had nothing to worry about from her.

  Billy gave him a long, measuring look. “I didn’t know you had such a cold streak, Skyler James,” she said with a sneer.

  “Well, now you do.”

  “I can change that.”

  Skyler sighed. “Many have tried before you, little girl.”

  “Then they didn’t use the right tactics,” she said, and without warning brought her lips down on his, kissing him deeply. She slid her hands from his neck to his shirt, removing it, then stroked seductively along his back and down his chest. She could feel him resisting her, but when her tongue slid provocatively along his lips, promising things to come, he gave in. His arms encircled her, pulling her flush with his body, his own lips returning her kiss with just as much intensity. His hands slid under her shirt, touching her bare back. Then he grabbed a double handful of the shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it aside. When her bare skin touched his, all discussions and arguments were over. They were caught up in the fire of their passion and nothing else mattered.

  Later they lay on the bed, Billy’s body still partially covering his. He hadn’t let her move afterward. Her long black curls fanned out on his chest and over his arms, which were wrapped around her body, his thumbs stroking her skin absently. Again they didn’t speak, and Billy decided to let his earlier comment go. She knew he wasn’t going to tell her what he’d meant without a fight, and she didn’t want to fight with him. Not right now, anyway.

  ♫ Three ♫

  Jerith called Nicolette at nine o’clock the morning after their first date. She sounde
d distracted when she answered the phone.

  “Good morning,” he said, his voice as cheerful as ever.

  “Hi.”

  “Am I calling too early?”

  Nicolette glanced at her watch. “Nine o’clock? It’s not too bad, but I really figured you wouldn’t call till eleven or so, if at all.”

  “Why do you say that? ‘If at all’?”

  “I just figured you’d be busy, that’s all,” she said, shrugging. What she’d really figured was that he wouldn’t still be interested if he thought he wasn’t going to get her into bed right away.

  “Uh-huh,” Jerith said, not sounding convinced by her explanation. “Well, the fact is, I called you now because I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “I see,” she said, grinning.

  He grinned too. “So cynical. When can I see you?” he asked, sounding like a teenager.

  “Jerith,” Nicolette said, her tone almost scolding. “I told you I have things I have to do today.”

  “I know, and I told you I’d help. When?”

  Nicolette laughed. “Whenever you want to come by. Do you need directions?”

  “No, I remember. I’ll see you soon.”

  He was at her front door twenty minutes later. She opened it, surprised.

  “Well, that was quick,” she said, opening the screen door for him.

  “Quick? Hell, I sat around for fifteen full minutes trying to think of something to do till I could come over.”

  Nicolette just laughed, shaking her head. “You’re nuts.”

  “Sometimes,” he said, following her into the kitchen.

  “Do you drink coffee, Mr. Michaels?”

  “Sometimes,” he said again, smiling.

  “Cream and sugar?”

  “Both.”

  She handed him a cup of coffee, and he found that she had put in just the right amount of each. They sat at the dining room table for a little while. He noticed she was dressed even more casually today, but still looked beautiful. She wore cream shorts and a teal shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with just a few auburn tendrils escaping. She wore makeup, but just the lightest amount; he couldn’t even tell exactly what. She looked incredible.

 

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