Night Watch

by Suzanne Brockmann

  And it had only lasted that long because the sex was so great. After divorcing Quentin, she’d needed to know that their relationship hadn’t failed because she was lousy in bed. And Kyle Gherard had helped her prove Quentin wrong. Of course, Kyle was also a total idiot who’d made Britt exceedingly reluctant to engage in that kind of a relationship ever again.

  Yet, here she was, doing it with Wes.

  Who was looking at her as if she’d just announced her plans to launch herself into space and orbit the moon. Confusion, disbelief, shock—it was all over his expressive face. “Are you telling me you haven’t had sex in, what? Nine years?”

  “No,” she said. “God. Not nine years.” She had to count on her fingers. “Only eight.”

  He laughed at that. “Only?” and grabbed for the condom, tearing it open with his teeth.

  It took him about two seconds to cover himself and protect them both as he kissed her, as he nudged her legs open wider, and…

  He stopped. She could feel him against her, but…he stopped.

  “How slow should I go?” he asked. He was serious. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I mean, if it’s been eight years…”

  In less than a heartbeat, she pushed him off of her, rolled him over, onto his back and straddled him, driving him deeply inside of her.

  The burst of pleasure was so intense, she heard herself cry out.

  “Sorry,” she gasped, moving on top of him slowly at first, loving the way he filled her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just needed…”

  He was laughing. “Do you hear me complaining? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, Wes, this feels so good.”

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “Oh, yeah. I guess it’s like riding a bicycle, huh?”

  “Believe me, this is better than riding a bicycle.”

  He laughed. “I meant, it’s something that you just don’t forget how to do.”

  “I want to do this all night,” Brittany said. “Can we do this all night?”

  His smile was so beautiful as he sat up to hold her in his arms, to kiss her breasts, to draw her into his mouth and tease her with his tongue and lips. “I vote for all weekend.”

  “All month,” she gasped.

  “All year,” he agreed, pulling her head down so he could kiss her mouth.

  Seconds, minutes, hours—Brittany had no idea how much time passed as they moved together, touching, kissing, stroking, loving.

  Loving.

  She pushed his shoulders back against the bed then sat up straight, so he could fill her even more completely.

  He held her gaze as she moved, faster now. She could tell from the way he was breathing that he was close to his release.

  The phone rang, but neither of them made the slightest move to stop, neither so much as looked away from each other.

  In the kitchen the answering machine picked up. “You’ve reached Britt and Andy. Leave a message at the beep.”

  “Hey, Britt, it’s Mel,” her sister’s voice came through on the answering machine speaker. “I’m just calling to see how your dinner went—your date with Wes Skelly. Call me back and tell me everything, okay?”

  Wes laughed at that, his eyes sparkling. “Not everything, I hope.”

  Britt laughed, too, and reached behind her to touch him. Oh, he liked that. Very much. Maybe a little too much.

  “Whoa,” he gasped. “Wait, baby. Brittany. Britt…”

  She exploded with a cry, and he was right behind her, bucking beneath her as his world crashed into a million tiny pieces, too, as his life surely fragmented, as it flew apart and spun around, before slowly coming back together again, in one piece. Like her, he was irrevocably changed.

  Wes pulled her down and held her tightly, her breasts against the solidness of his chest, as he kissed her.

  Tenderly.

  As if she’d just given him the sweetest gift he’d ever received.

  “You’re incredible, Britt,” he whispered.

  She lifted her head to smile at him, loving his eyes, the lean line of his face, even the slight stubble on his chin.

  “Okay,” she said, “I think I’m ready for the licking thing now. I mean, feel free to take as long a break as you need, of course, but—”

  He tickled her.

  She shrieked and rolled off of him, but he quickly pinned her to the bed.

  Holding her gaze, he lowered his head and licked her. From her breast all the way to her ear.

  Brittany shivered and he grinned.

  “I don’t need a break,” he said. “Like I told you, I’m going to make love to you all weekend long.” He kissed her mouth so sweetly. She would never get used to that. Not in a weekend, not in a lifetime. How did he manage to be so incredibly gentle? “You just tell me what you want and when you want it,” he told her. “Okay?”

  She nodded again, her heart going through its gymnastic routine as he gave his full attention to her collarbone.

  She was such a fool. Great sex did not equal love. So this guy was good in bed, so what?

  He was more than good in bed. He was smart and funny and sweet. But just because she thought that, didn’t mean she was in love with him.

  Yeah, right.

  Hearts could pound and do flips because of attraction and lust.

  And yes, she lusted after him. Definitely.

  She liked him, too. A lot. An awful lot.

  But it wasn’t love.

  She’d be a fool to fall in love with Wes Skelly, because he loved somebody else.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE PHONE RANG.

  Again.

  Wes turned to look at Brittany, who was sleeping amidst the rumpled sheets and blankets, her hair a cloud of gold on the pillow, one gorgeous leg thrown across him.

  “You ever going to answer the phone again?” he asked her.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. And smiled. “Hello.”

  He smiled back at her. “Yeah, that’s what you’re supposed to say after you pick up the phone.” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her tush and back up again. And down again. Her skin was so soft and smooth. He could touch her like this for hours and be completely entertained.

  The answering machine clicked on, but then clicked off as whoever was calling hung up. He’d picked up the phone a few times when Brittany was sleeping, but whoever it was had hung up as soon as he’d said hello.

  “Only person I want to talk to right now is here, in bed with me,” she told him, her smile getting even warmer. She stretched and snuggled closer to him. Man, she killed him. Continuously. “Did you have a nice nap?”

  “I didn’t nap. I ran to the store—after I finally wore you out.”

  She laughed. “If you honestly think you’ve worn me out…”

  “Yeah?” Wes said. “What? I think you’re going to have to prove that I haven’t.”

  “Kind of hard for me to prove it when I’ve already worn you out,” she countered.

  Oh, he was up for that challenge. Literally. “Just say the word,” he said. “I’m ready when you are.” He took her hand and placed it on the fly of his shorts. “See?”

  “Well, well,” she said. But then she frowned. “Why are you wearing clothes?”

  “I told you. I went to the store.”

  Brittany stopped unzipping his shorts to narrow her eyes at him. “Not to get cigarettes.”

  Wes snorted. “Yeah, like I’d dare smoke and then climb back into your bed.” Man, the way she touched him… “I went to the store to deal with my other addiction.”

  She kissed him and then looked up at him, all big blue eyes and that not-so-innocent smile. “Which is…?”

  “You,” he somehow managed to say. “I’m completely addicted to you. I got us more condoms.”

  “Good,” she said and kissed him again as he ran his fingers through her hair.

  Yes, this was heaven.

  The phone rang.

  “This is getting annoying,” she said. “I know it wasn’t
Andy calling before, because he would’ve left a message.”

  The answering machine picked up. “Hey, you’ve reached Britt and Andy. Leave a message at the beep.”

  “Mom, it’s Andy.”

  Brittany sat up.

  “Are you there? If you’re there, please pick up.”

  She rolled across the bed, reaching for the telephone extension on the bedside table and clicking it on. “Hey, I’m here, buddy. How are you? How’s Phoenix?” She looked at Wes. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

  He shook his head. This was not a problem. He knew she’d been hoping that Andy would call.

  “I’m not in Phoenix.” Wes could hear Andy’s voice still coming through on the answering machine speaker. “I’m in San Diego.”

  “What?” Brittany said.

  “San Diego,” he said again. “At Dani’s sister’s apartment. Mom, I need you.” His voice shook. “Can you come down here?”

  She stood up, getting clean underwear from her drawer, and putting it on as Wes refastened his shorts. “What happened?” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “I’m… Mostly all right.”

  “Mostly? What does mostly mean? What’s going on?”

  “Do you know if five days is too long to wait after a sexual assault to, you know, to use a rape kit?”

  “Oh, my God,” Brittany said. “Andy…”

  “Dani was raped, Mom. She didn’t sleep with Dustin Melero voluntarily. I heard him bragging to some of the other guys, talking about Dani and some other girls, telling how he put vodka into water bottles, and…” The kid could barely speak. He was crying.

  “Oh, Andy…” She stood there, her hand over her mouth, looking at Wes, like she wanted him to say or do something, like wake her up from a bad dream.

  He crossed the room to her and touched her arm, hoping that might help even just a little.

  “Give ’em enough of that, he said—I heard him say it,” Andy continued, “And no doesn’t really mean no. He said that. The son of a bitch said that!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Brittany said. She turned away from Wes. “To be honest, Andy, I don’t think a rape kit’s going to turn up much evidence at this point. Did she shower? She must’ve showered, right?”

  “Yeah, only about a hundred times.”

  Wes pulled on his T-shirt as Brittany put on a pair of jeans and a shirt, and brushed her hair, tying it back with a ponytail holder.

  He hovered close by, wishing there was something he could do to save the day. But there wasn’t. Not in this situation.

  “Did he injure her?” Britt asked.

  “Obviously.”

  She shook her head, hand to her forehead. “No, Andy, I know that he… I’m asking if… God. If he was rough. If he injured her physically, if there are any marks of violence.” She looked at Wes, tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my son.”

  Wes held her gaze, wishing he could track down Dustin Melero and tear his ass to shreds. But he knew that what Brittany needed most right now was for him just to stand here, beside her.

  “I don’t know,” Andy said. “She won’t talk to me. She locked herself in the bathroom. Mom, she’s so messed up about what happened. She thinks it was her fault. I’m scared to death she’s going to hurt herself. Please come down here. If anyone can get through to her, you can.”

  “I’m on my way, but first give me your phone number,” Brittany said. She found a pen but no paper on her dresser, and searched frantically for something to write on.

  Finally something he could do. Wes held out his arm. She looked at him and he nodded, and as Andy recited the number, she wrote it. On him.

  “That way we won’t lose it,” he told her. “Let’s get the address, while we’re at it.”

  “You’re coming with me?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said, and her eyes welled with tears again.

  But she brusquely wiped them away. “Andy, what’s the address?” Britt asked, and as he told her, she wrote that, too, on Wes’s arm.

  “Let me talk to him,” Wes said.

  She handed him the phone.

  “Hey, Andy, it’s Wes Skelly,” he said. “Look, your mom and I are going to leave right now, but it’s going to take us a couple of hours to get there. We’ll call you from the car to touch base, all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In the meantime, I’m going to call a friend of mine who’s a professional. She’s a shrink—a psychologist who’s actually had some experience working with rape trauma victims. If I can catch her at home—and I’m betting I can considering what time it is—she should be able to get to you in just a few minutes. Her name is Lana Quinn.”

  Brittany turned sharply to look at him, but then quickly looked away, as if she didn’t want him to see her reaction to that news.

  The news that he was going to call Lana.

  Lana, whom he’d loved for years.

  Lana, whom he hadn’t thought about once in the past twenty-four hours.

  Lana, whose name made Brittany take notice, and quite possibly feel…jealous?

  Wow.

  Wes had an awful lot to think about, but no time to sort any of it through right now.

  “Lana will talk to Dani,” he continued. “Right through the bathroom door, if she has to. She’s good, Andy. She’ll be able to help, okay? So when she comes over, let her in.”

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Wes hung up the phone and looked at Britt. “Let’s go. I’ll call Lana from the car.”

  IT WAS LATE, but there was still traffic on the side streets, heading over to the freeway.

  Brittany sat in Wes’s car, trying not to squirm with frustration. Andy needed her, and she was miles away from him. It was enough to drive her mad.

  And even if it weren’t enough, Wes was on his cell phone, calling Lana-the-Bitch.

  God, she hated Lana more than ever now.

  “Hi, it’s me,” he said, because of course Lana would immediately recognize his voice over the phone, even after midnight on a Saturday night.

  Maybe especially after midnight on a Saturday night.

  Don’t be jealous. Don’t be jealous. Don’t be—

  Well, why the hell not? Minutes ago she’d been on the verge of having more mind-blowingly hot sex with this incredible, wonderful man. And now she had to sit here and listen while his voice got all soft and gooey because he was talking to Lana.

  Lana, who was going to get out of bed and rush over to Dani’s sister’s house, to try to help Andy’s girlfriend, who’d fallen victim to date rape.

  Oh, God. Poor Dani.

  Poor Andy.

  Poor jealous Britt.

  “Sorry I woke you,” Wes said into his cell phone as he signaled to get on the freeway and kicked his car up to eighty. Britt had to hang on to the handle at the top of the window. At least she didn’t have to be frustrated because he didn’t drive fast enough. “But we’ve got something of an emergency happening, not too far from where you live.”

  He quickly told Lana what Andy had told them. About Dustin Melero’s bragging. About Dani leaving school, and then locking herself in the bathroom when Andy came to confront her with the truth.

  Andy—the son of “Cowboy Jones’s sister-in-law, Brittany Evans.”

  Boy, she didn’t even rate as “my friend, Britt.”

  Brittany listened while Wes read the address off of his arm.

  “Thanks,” he said. “And we’ll be there as soon as we can.” He paused, listening as on the other end of the phone Lana—Lana-the-perfect—spoke. Probably in perfect, pearl-like, clear round tones. “Thanks,” he said again, his voice especially warm. “I knew you’d come through for me, babe.”

  Babe.

  Wes called Lana babe, too?

  Oh, God. Jealous, jealous, jealous. There was no doubt about it now. If Lana were in range, Britt would have given her th
e evil eye. And maybe even an audible snarl.

  But she had no right to feel angry or even hurt. She knew this would happen, right from the start. She went into this thing completely aware of Wes’s feelings for Lana.

  But hoping that after a night or two with her, Wes would forget about Lana completely…?

  No. She wasn’t that stupid.

  Oh, yes, she was.

  Well, yeah, maybe. Oh, okay, yes, darnit.

  God, she was a fool.

  Wes hung up the phone, but then dialed another number.

  “Who are you calling now?” Brittany asked. Your other girlfriend? Ooh, easy there. Deep breaths. Calm blue ocean.

  “Hey, babe,” Wes said, and Brittany stared at him in disbelief. “It’s Wes. Sorry I’m calling so late. Is your devastatingly handsome husband around?” There was a pause, then, “Hey, Lieutenant, it’s Skelly. I’m sorry to bother you. Yeah, I do know what time it is, sir, but I’m here in my car with your gorgeous sister-in-law and we’re heading for San Diego at warp speed. Andy’s in a jam, I was hoping you could go over to his girlfriend’s sister’s place ASAP and provide a little extra support until we can arrive.”

  He was talking to Harlan Jones, the SEAL officer with the ridiculous nickname of “Cowboy” that Britt’s sister Melody had married.

  It was Melody that he’d babe-ed. Apparently babe wasn’t as intimate a term of endearment as Britt had originally thought. Which made his babe-ing of Lana a little bit easier to swallow.

  Just a little.

  She still felt jealous, but it was accompanied by an overwhelming wave of adoration for this man who was thoughtful enough to call Harlan Jones—a man Andy knew and trusted—to provide the first wave of reinforcements.

  She wouldn’t have thought to do that.

  Wes gave Jones the address and ended the conversation by saying, “See you in a few.”

  He closed his cell phone with a snap, and stuck it on the seat in front of him, between his legs.

  He glanced at Britt, sending her a smile of encouragement. “Traffic’s pretty light now. We’ll get there as quickly as we can.”