Abel lowered his hands and dropped the wires to the ground, understanding now how she’d been stung by his impertinence. He wondered, for the first time, if he’d treated all his clients this way. Had he been raw and unyielding? Perhaps. But wasn’t that his job? To keep the intended victim safe? And how was one to do that if they were too busy mollifying the client into a false sense of security. Still, as she silently watched him, he had to admit to himself that he did see her as a victim—it would be hard to see her any other way.
Lifting her hand in the darkness, Hope clicked on a light. “Do you know what I do for a living?”
“You’re a nurse.”
“What college did I graduate from?” Sitting up, she tucked her legs under herself. Her messy bun lopped to one side and her delicate fingers pushed a few strands behind her ear.
He didn’t know the answer to this question, but figured he could try and make an educated guess. Searching his brain for medical colleges in New York, he spoke the first one he could think of. “Weil Cornell?” He knew the inflection in his voice lent to the frown marring her face, but how the hell was he supposed to know all this?
Hope sighed. “Am I beautiful?” Her question stunned him into complete silence. Was she serious? “I am asking these things for a reason. A simple yes or no would suffice.”
Abel moved to the chair next to the bed and sat down. “Yes,” he answered honestly, and enjoyed the pink blush staining her cheeks. He took in her hazel, almond-shaped eyes, petite nose, and smooth, tan skin. She wasn’t like the women he found himself chasing—tall, blonde, statuesque, and well endowed—yet her tantalizing form held beauty and grace. Her gaze shone with intelligence and Abel respected that.
She nodded. “What is my husband’s name?”
“Mark Chambers.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How long was I married to him?”
“Eighteen months.” He knew that as a fact.
“What part of my body did he break to prove he was stronger than me?”
Abel gritted his teeth. “Your arm.” He got where she was going with this, and he didn’t like it. As a matter of fact, it forced him to take a long, hard look at how he viewed Hope.
“I am a Nurse Practitioner, I went to Harvard before transferring to Princeton.” She pulled the covers up and around her body. “You see me as a victim and not someone who has worked her entire life to accomplish a dream. You also don’t truly see me as a woman, but some pretty, delicate flower in need of your help.”
Abel opened his mouth to remind her that she did need his help, but closed it when he realized she wasn’t done.
“I see you, Abel. I was attracted to you the second you walked into the room, but I also saw how you looked at me. Like I was some project, or a chore—a way to get your old job back.” She shrugged a shoulder.
He leaned forward in his chair. “I see you as neither.” And he didn’t. Or did he? Fuck, he was confused. Her sad smile pulled at his heart strings.
“Okay then.” She lifted the covers and scooted back on the bed. “Come to bed with me.”
He reared back, stunned as shit. “What?”
“You heard me. I am attracted to you, and you said the same about me. Come to bed with me.”
Abel swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
She was silent for a moment, her fingers playing in the frayed bedsheets. “Have you ever slept with a client?”
Abel’s mouth formed the words no, but his head stopped them before he could finish. He had slept with a woman who hired him years ago, but this situation was different. His former client hadn’t been in the vulnerable situation Hope found herself in.
Laughing softly, she lowered the covers. “See? I’m a victim to you.” She rolled over and Abel sat quietly until her breathing steadied and she drifted off to sleep.
He moved a hand to his lap, palming his erection. If only she knew how much he wanted to slip between the sheets with her. Growling in frustration, Abel quietly headed to the bathroom. Maybe if he took care of business, he’d stop popping wood every time she opened her mouth.
7
Hope
To say that Hope was impressed with the new digs would be an understatement. The new hub, as Abel called it, was about thirty minutes away from the clinic, but it hadn’t been an issue since they were using Lex’s old truck. Hope peeked at her watch, noting she had a couple of hours before she needed to be at the clinic. That gave her time to poke around the fully furnished place, and grab a small bite to eat. Turning in a circle and taking in the modern place, Hope froze when she got a glimpse of the bed stuffed in the corner.
Placing her small suitcase down, she stared at the queen-sized bed in a bit of shock. She thought he was getting a two-bedroom place. “Is this a loft?” she asked Abel, who was busy setting up his surveillance equipment.
Moving closer to the hall opposite the bed, Hope peered down the narrow walkway, expecting to see another bedroom. At the end of the hall, one door sat ajar, and Hope could see the room had a three-piece bathroom set. The narrow hall led to a small balcony on the other side, and that was it.
Turning, Hope made her way to the middle of the room, and just as she was about to ask Abel to find them a place in which his half-naked, toned torso wouldn’t cause her sex dreams at night, he spoke.
“This is all I could get on such short notice.” He knelt, fidgeting with what appeared to be a tiny camera. “I called in a favor and I have thirty days before I have to start paying rent here.”
Once again, she took in the loft and its exposed brick walls, sleek, black and white modern kitchen, stainless steel appliances, and beautiful hardwood floors. Hope swallowed hard at the idea of having to pay to live here.
Clutching the bottom of her shirt, she asked, “And how much would that cost?” Born and raised in New York, Hope was used to prices that would knock your socks off. Something like this would run at least two grand in the city, and it wasn’t even as big as her boss’s old apartment, which had cost even more due to its prime location in Manhattan.
Rising, Abel made his way to the door. “About six a month.”
“Six grand?” Hope gasped, nearly choking on her words.
Abel eyed her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “Six hundred,” he corrected.
Hope blushed. “Oh, yeah. I forget I’m not still in New York.”
He scoffed. “I don’t know how you could ever forget that in this small-ass town.”
She released the hem of her shirt, now that her heart wasn’t in her throat. Still, she understood that while she could afford this place, there would come a time when Mark would grow tired of playing his games and come after her. There was no point in signing a lease she knew she wouldn’t keep.
Hope watched while Abel rigged the door with his hidden camera. As they’d left her place, he made sure to mention the broken glass outside of her door. He’d warned it wouldn’t work as a deterrent, and it was hazardous to her health if she would have ever needed to flee her place in a hurry. Hope hadn’t said a word. She’d sat there thinking about what she would do when Abel was no longer around and she didn’t have his little gadgets to keep her a step ahead of Mark.
“This here,” he pointed to the camera, “will trigger whenever there is movement, or when I send a signal from . . .” Abel pulled a small device, similar to a kindle, from his bag. Swiping his hand across the screen, he used his thumbprint to unlock it. “This handheld device.”
Hope bent forward. “Nifty gadget.” She watched as the screen brought up a video of the hallway.
“This is better than your average security camera. I use government grade CCTV cameras. This one here records sixty frames per second, resulting in a feed that looks like we’re watching live TV.” He tapped a button on the screen. The empty hall disappeared and in its place, a wide view of the elevators appeared. Again, he clicked, and the traffic in front of the building popped up. A few people milled about as cars passed by.
“Holy sh
it. It’s such a clear picture.” Hope moved closer to Abel, his warmth spreading around her like a protective blanket. She ignored the gooseflesh that rose on her skin; but harder to ignore was the insane need growing in her belly. What in the hell was going on with her libido? Since the night before, she’d thought of nothing other than Abel’s expansive chest, and his deep, soul-searching eyes.
She shook her head clear. There was no time for that, and he’d all but turned her down last night—even after admitting that sleeping with a client hadn’t been off the table in the past.
Placing the device down, Abel turned to face her. As he moved, the bare skin of his forearm brushed against hers, spreading heat throughout her body. Hope trembled, and Abel—extreme gentleman that he was—took her reaction the wrong way. Apologizing, he stepped back. And then, as if thinking about it further, he took another step back for good measure.
Hope resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was not some simpering victim who would never allow another man to touch her again. She was, however, a very horny adult who needed to get her libido in check.
When she looked in the mirror, she saw a different woman. One that Mark had molded and trained, but that wasn’t what she felt like inside. She still felt like Hope, and Hope needed others to see that as well. It would take some time, but she was healing. Thea and Lex had aided in a way they would never understand, and Hope prayed that men wouldn’t always treat her the way Abel was now.
Clearing his throat, Abel stated, “I need to save your fingerprints in my system. Also, you should know that before Thea and Lex left, they hired my old security company for the clinic. So, even when the place is closed at night, it will have one of the guys doing systematic drive-bys. On top of which, someone will be there on your days off.” He eyed her, waiting for a reaction.
Hope hadn’t been too sure she liked the fact Thea had to spend so much money now that she’d brought her problems down with her. She bit her lip, the idea of skipping town weighing heavy on her mind. How could Thea afford this? She got much of her funding from the state, and it was hardly enough to pay for the day-to-day expenses.
“Hey.” Abel’s soothing voice broke through the cacophony of noise in her head.
Closing her eyes, Hope took a few deep breaths. His callused hand softly gripped her elbow. She opened her eyes as he guided her to the plush, white sofa in the middle of the room. With a gentle tug, he pulled her down onto the cushion beside him.
Hope kicked off her tennis shoes and pulled her feet up under her butt. Burrowing into the soft cushions, she sighed. “This is too much. I can handle it when it’s my finances that are affected, but not when it’s Thea’s.” She gave him a sheepish glance. “Or yours.”
Abel leaned back, adjusting himself against the back of the sofa. “I understand.”
She hoped he did, because after what he’d said last night, Hope wasn’t so sure.
Looking up at him she asked, “Yeah?”
Abel gave a small nod. “You’re independent. Probably had been your whole life before Mark. And now, you have to depend on others.” He shrugged. “I’d hate it, too. To be truthful, I was in your position just yesterday, until Lex called me and offered me this job.”
Hope pulled the fuzzy afghan from the arm of the chair and swaddled up in it. “I know. Lex told me a bit about what happened. I can’t believe you lost your job for protecting a woman at a bar.” Anger swept over her at the idea of a shit sheriff holding grudges.
Sneaking a peek at Abel, she noticed he seemed unaffected. How could that be? He’d lost his job, his apartment, and spent the better part of almost two years in a jail cell. Hell, there were still nights Hope sat up late, her heart thrumming in her chest, close to drowning in anger at what Mark had put her through. She wondered if he’d confide in her and tell her the entire story. He knew so much about her, yet the only things she knew about Abel were what Thea and Lex had been willing to share.
“Well, I didn’t lose it,” he explained. “I still have a job, but I can’t be active in the field. And honestly, that’s where I’m at my best. I’m not a desk jockey. I’d rather do the leg work or the protecting. It’s in my blood.”
“Is it?” she asked, wanting him to elaborate on the comment. What had happened in this man’s life to make him desire to be a personal guardian?
“Yup.” Throwing a hand behind his head, he took in the place. Hope followed his gaze as it roved over every nook and cranny. He said he’d chosen the place because it was in a well-populated town, close to local authorities, and was extremely easy to set a surrounding surveillance.
Releasing a breath, Abel stood. “I’m going to get to work setting this place up. By the way, Thea gave you the rest of the week off.”
“What? No!” She nearly stood, but Abel knelt in front of her, placing his warm hand over hers.
“You need your rest, and we need to formulate a plan. This is non-negotiable.” His tone was firm and unyielding.
It was early Saturday morning, and Hope knew there was most likely already a line wrapped out the door of the clinic. Through the fog of concern, she felt Abel’s thumb tenderly caress the sensitive flesh between her thumb and pointer finger.
“You are not an inconvenience, nor are you a liability,” Abel muttered. His voice so low, Hope could barely hear him. “But if you don’t keep yourself healthy and alert, you can become both.”
With him kneeling before her, and Hope leaning forward to grip her knees, Abel’s face was mere inches from hers. She took in the beautiful sight of his warm gaze, luscious lips, and the adorable little dimple in his left cheek. She was too engrossed to care about the choice she was about to make. Leaning forward, Hope gently pressed her lips to Abel’s.
8
Abel
The second Hope bent forward, placing her lips upon Abel’s, his chest nearly exploded on impact. Her sweet scent surrounded him as her tongue cautiously entered his mouth. The erotic tangle of tongues and her delectable cinnamon taste caused his groin to ache and tighten. While the war between right and wrong waged in the back of his mind, Abel sensed himself toeing the line.
Fingers threaded through his hair, her nails lightly scraped against his sensitive scalp, chasing away all rational thought. Abel reached for her. Grasping her thin waist, he pulled her to the edge of her seat. Her arms made their way around to his back as he fit his body between her knees.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a rational voice screamed for him and his dick to heel, but the warmth of her body cradled against his, and the soft moans pulled from her mouth, silenced the voice. It had been more than two years since he’d felt the touch of a woman and his body would not yield to the common sense blaring in his mind.
While he nipped the sensitive skin along her collarbone, Abel slid his hand to the hem of her shirt and lifted to reveal a modest white bra clutching her sweet breasts. Caressing her quivering belly, he circled her bellybutton and made his way up to the soft fabric of her bra. When he pulled the cups down, her breasts popped out. Groaning, Abel leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth.
Testing and teasing her by nibbling on the tight bud, Hope bucked into him, her core meeting his cock. The heat between them nearly scorched him through his jeans, and Abel thrust against her. He needed her naked, now.
Pulling away, he quickly tugged his shirt over his head and unsnapped his jeans. Hope followed suit. Lifting her shirt off, Abel gawked at her breasts as they bounced with her movements; the light-brown globes half out of her bra. When Hope lifted her firm, little ass up and pushed down her jeans, Abel gripped the hem of her panties, and pulled until the white cotton was crumpled on the floor.
Roughly, he spread her legs, revealing her glistening lips. Abel placed a kiss on her inner thigh as he worked his pants down enough to free himself. Caressing her thigh, he came up onto his knees and pulled her toward him, until her ass was hanging off the couch.
She spread her legs wide and Abel’s fingers found their way to
her wet heat, dipping lightly and rubbing moisture over her swollen clit. Hope cried out, her hips bucking off the couch so violently that Abel had to place a hand over her stomach to hold her still.
How long has it been for her? He slid one finger in, then two. Never one to brag, he needed to brace the reality of the size of his cock. He’d have to get her good and ready before he fucked her. He was no beast, unable to control his urges.
Soft pleas and moans fell from her lips, urging him to take her deeper, harder. Abel’s mouth watered at the sight before him. Her swollen flesh parted for his fingers, pink clit budding from her sex, dripping with her arousal. Abel stroked her inner walls, scissoring his fingers in and out, all while marveling at how responsive she was to his touch. She wavered on the verge of coming, her body moving in cadence with his, her voice a decadent low moan in his ears.
Abel grabbed onto his cock and squeezed before pumping it a few times. He was so aroused, he wasn’t sure he would last long once he was inside of her. This made him determined to make her come now. His fingers moved faster and deeper on their own accord, pushing her to the brink.
“Oh my God. Abel . . .” Hope called out, as he twisted his fingers inside of her, in search of her g-spot. With his other hand, Abel reached up and took a pearled nipple between his fingers.
He felt the tension inside of her build, and watched as her stomach muscles tightened. His only regret was the fact he would not have his mouth on her sweet pussy as she came. He lifted his hips a little, allowing his cock to rub against her inner thigh, in search of the friction it craved. But the contact with her hot body did nothing to soothe his pain. He needed to be inside of her, needed to unleash the beast roaming beneath his skin.
“Come for me,” he demanded. His cock nearly cheered with joy when Hope’s back bowed off the couch. “Oh yeah, baby. Come all over my hand.” He hoped his low, sensual tone added to her pleasure.
Open Wounds: Abel and Hope: Love Against the Odds Page 5
