He chuckled. “Robin, explain the exercises to her while I take a break.”
“No way, no how. I’ll use you to demonstrate. Colby, will you grab the blue exercise band over there?”
Mace faked a groan though he really didn’t mind the extra exercises. The more he did, the better he felt—until later, when it caught up with him. Colby watched Robin put him through his next set of stretches with the wide rubber band. At least concentrating on the exercises kept his thoughts clean.
For forty minutes, Robin explained and demonstrated different stretches and exercises. The therapist would switch places with her, making sure Colby knew how to assist Mace correctly.
In the end, sweat drenched him, and Colby looked like he felt. Tired.
Robin threw him a clean towel and left to grab a pad of paper to jot down notes for Colby. While she was gone, he took full advantage of their alone time.
He was raising himself up on his elbows when she said, “It’s a lot to remember.”
He wanted to erase the uncertainty from her expression, but he knew his PT could be daunting at first. “Between Robin’s notes—and me—it won’t be a problem. I know this is asking a lot of you.”
“Don’t be silly. I want to help.” She gave him a tentative smile. Then, she ran a hand down his arm and squeezed his fingers. The gesture reassured him.
“There will be other exercises we can do also, ones which won’t be in Robin’s notes.”
“Oh, like what?” She glanced down at him, still lying on the table. A fraction of a second later, the blush returned in full force. “Oh.”
“Those exercises are much more fun.”
“I’ll bet. Mace—”
He already figured she regretted that they fucked the other night. It was too obvious not to notice. Not to mention, she had avoided any intimate contact since. But he wouldn’t give up on getting her beneath him again. Or on top. He wasn’t choosy. He just wanted to feel her hot, wet, tight pussy sliding over his cock. Slow and teasing at first, then hard and fast until they were both desperate for release. He imagined their bodies connected, slapping together over and over until his balls tightened and convulsed and—
Shit.
Robin suddenly stood over him again. He quickly threw his damp towel over his lap. Colby’s ears were purple from embarrassment. Christ, she must have been imagining it, too.
With a shaky hand against her throat, it took three attempts before she asked, “Is it really necessary for him to take those painkillers? Aren’t they addictive? I would like to try some herbal remedies on him.”
Those questions were enough to cool his wicked imagination. “You are not taking my pills away,” he warned. He might want to fuck her until she screamed—hell, until he screamed—but he wouldn’t tolerate her controlling his life. She was not his mother…or his wife.
“Mace, you can try natural stuff without getting rid of your Vicodin,” Robin assured him. “And to answer your question, Colby, yes, any painkillers with hydrocodone can be addictive. But pain has a way of bringing someone’s self-esteem down. We think it’s more beneficial for healing if the patient feels better. Relieving or minimizing the pain does wonders for people. It rids them of the constant reminder they’re ill or injured, and it gives their body a chance to really heal.” Robin indicated to Colby they should switch places.
Robin continued, “But painkillers are his choice. You don’t have to take them, Mace, you know that. Colby, if you can help him with herbs or whatever, more power to you. I like to keep things natural myself. But it has to be his decision. As long as you continue your rehab, Mace, that’s the most important thing, redeveloping your muscle tone and keeping it flexible.”
He lay back on the table and smiled. “I think I like having two women’s hands all over me.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “Take your pants off; it’s time for your favorite part.”
He grinned when Colby’s face turned the same color as her hair once again.
Colby didn’t need to look in a mirror to see she was beet-red. But she made a deal with Mace. More like a deal with the devil. He had kept up with his part so far, now she had to stick with hers.
He had helped her all day at her house, not complaining once. Well, maybe once.
But it wasn’t like he hadn’t kept up with kicking ass beside her. They accomplished more than she ever thought they would. They had pulled and scraped all the old wallpaper off the walls upstairs. She had hoped to get one bedroom stripped and prepared for paint. Amazingly, they ended up doing all four.
Now, she had to do the things Robin had taught her yesterday. Like it or not.
Even though they were both damp with perspiration, Mace’s sweat stemmed more from pain than exertion. After working through his exercises using his bed as a make-shift PT table, they were now at his “favorite part.” He’d shucked his sweats in anticipation and now lay on the sheets, wearing only his boxer briefs and a T-shirt.
As she leaned over the bed, Colby tried not to zero in on areas she needed to keep her eyes—and hands—off. But she needed to work close to the area her eyes kept flicking back to. And it wasn’t as if Mace hadn’t responded to her closeness.
She suddenly found it difficult to swallow since she noticed the long, hard line of his cock against the snug cotton.
“You don’t have to do this, Colby. You worked hard all day, too. I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”
Colby realized she was chewing on her lower lip and released it. “No. I…I’ll do it. Robin said it would help relax the muscle and keep it from cramping.”
“I don’t know how my muscles will relax with your hands all over me.”
Could her face get any hotter? “Not all over you.”
“Well, if you’re going to do it, do it. I feel—” Mace gave her an over-exaggerated frown. “Exposed. Like a sitting duck.”
She laughed, suddenly a little more relieved. So, she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable about this. In more ways than one. “Okay, tell me if I hurt you.”
Holding her breath, she timidly placed her hands on the remains of his inner thigh muscle and massaged. Though she had no problems touching his body the other night, it seemed different tonight. She felt different. She was beginning to really…like the man, instead of just lusting after him.
She enjoyed his company and his sense of humor. His shadow of a beard and long, dark brown hair were not only sexy, but reminded her of a renegade. A loose cannon. Completely opposite to her staid, boring scientist self.
She needed to loosen up. Ever since that dark night Mace Walker crept into her life, she noticed she felt a little freer, a bit more content. Maybe it was just her imagination, but those multiple orgasms the other night had released something in her, something she didn’t want to admit—
Mace groaned. She glanced down; her hands were way too high, too close to his hard-on. She pulled away in dismay. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t. It feels good. You were massaging so…intently.”
He caught her hands in his, which emphasized how much smaller she was than him. They were half his size. Colby remembered how those thick, masculine fingers felt dipping into her, strumming her, making her body tremble and writhe in pleasure. She pressed her lips together to capture her groan.
After bringing her hands back to his thigh, he squeezed slightly before releasing them. “Keep going.”
She did so, but more tentatively, paying more attention to what she was doing.
“What were you thinking about?”
“What?” Colby glanced up to see his dark eyes attempting to peer into her soul. His heated stare burned her, leaving a sensation of hot liquid flowing down her spine to her toes. Her knees wobbled, and her words caught in her throat. “Work.” She tried again, “I was thinking of work. Martin and I are close to completing a project.”
The spark in his eyes suddenly flickered and died. He must find her work uninteresting.
“Do you and Marty work closely together a lot?”
His muscle tightened, so she kneaded a little faster. “His name is Martin and, yes, we always work together. I told you, he’s my assistant.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s about all you told me. Do you work late on projects together a lot? Like the other night, I mean.”
She kept her rhythm going even though her fingers were tiring. Not to mention, the topic of work cooled the heat between her legs. “Not usually. We try not to do too much overtime. First of all, we’re both salaried and second, we don’t want to burn out.”
“Yeah, you need to keep your energy level high for those special projects. Is that right?”
His hostile tone caught her off guard. Once again.
She stopped massaging his leg and stepped back from his bed. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating. But if you’re accusing me of something…Do you think…I…We…” She picked up his sweat pants off the floor and whipped them into his lap, frowning. “I think you need a shower. You stink!”
As she turned to leave, Mace caught her arm, spinning her back toward him. “Colby.”
He looked apologetic, but she didn’t care. She ripped her arm from his grasp. “No, Mace. I think I understand now. Perfectly. Even if Martin and I are having a relationship or whatever…” She stabbed her finger into his chest. “It’s…” Poke. “None…” Poke. “Of…” Poke. “Your…” Poke. “Damn business.”
After a few more jabs for good measure, she stormed out of his room and down the hall, leaving Mace rubbing his chest.
She slammed her bedroom door and asked it, “Who the hell does he think he is?” The door didn’t answer her.
7
“You know, our deal was we would help each other out.”
Colby dropped the paintbrush, watching in dismay as it sank like an ocean liner into the can of forest green paint. She muttered a curse and picked up a paint stirrer which she used to try to fish the brush out. Unsuccessfully.
“Here. Let me help you.”
He had the nerve to stand there, handsome and sexy in a snug black T-shirt, while his dark eyes pleaded with her to forgive him. She pushed his hand away. “No thanks.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
His low voice caused tingling sensations down her spine. She would not feel bad for being angry with him. Nope. “Why would you think I was mad?”
Mace pulled his shirt up and showed her the small purple bruise on his chest. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I had a good reason.”
Okay, now she felt awful. As much as she didn’t want to, she did. She was supposed to help him with his rehab, not injure him.
“I’m sorry for being a jerk last night. You’re right; it’s none of my business. Your life is your own.”
“Yes.” She gave up on the lost brush and searched for a new one.
“Yes?” He watched her in confusion.
“Yes, you were a jerk. Yes, it’s none of your business. Yes, it’s my life.”
Mace smiled and gave her a sideways glance. “Do you forgive me?” He found another brush before she did and picked it up. After dropping on one knee, he brandished the brush like a jeweled sword, a peace offering for a princess. “My Lady, if I finish painting thy wicker furniture this lovely shade of green, will you forgive me? Or will it be off with my head?”
Colby studied him for a moment, wondering if she should let him off the hook. After all, he let her off the hook the other night when she missed dinner. Eventually.
She glanced at all the pieces of wicker furniture which had been delivered earlier from the secondhand shop in town. They littered the living room. She wanted to get them painted so as soon as the porch was finished, she could put them outside. “I’ll think about it. Maybe if the coats are even and there aren’t any runs.”
“You’re tough.”
She was, and she’d be the first to admit it. Not out loud, though. But she had to be. She wouldn’t let this man walk into her life and turn it upside down and inside out. She’d been in a relationship like that before and ended up on the losing end. She wasn’t going get burned ever again. Even if it meant she might never find someone permanently. One of those “forever” type of men. She’d rather be alone for the rest of her life than go through that humiliation and pain again.
When she’d been lucky enough to secure her position at Malvern U, the move here had given her a fresh start and put a good distance between her and her ex-boyfriend Craig—a mean, controlling bastard. She couldn’t believe she wasted two years with him. Two years!
That final time in the hospital made her wake up. She was tired of taking the blame for things she didn’t do. The day she walked out of the hospital, she walked out on Craig. With a restraining order in hand, she boarded a bus and headed toward Malvern. That had been over a year ago. She was sure he was too busy with his new girlfriend—the one he had been fucking while living with, and supposedly in love with, Colby—to care she had disappeared.
The more she thought about it, the more foolish she felt. She swept the memories out of her head like cobwebs.
As Colby watched Mace paint the chairs, she thought she could always get a dog to keep her company. A dog would be more faithful and love unconditionally. A dog wouldn’t cheat on her. At least, she hoped not.
“Hellooooo?”
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “What?”
“I just asked you where you’re going to put this furniture three times. If you haven’t decided yet, I suggest the porch. After it’s safe, of course.”
“The porch is exactly where it will go. The contractor said it should be completely repaired and ready for paint by the end of the month.”
“Dare I ask what color? Or is it going to be an awful shade of pink?”
“No one calls pink ‘pink’ anymore. It’s either rose or blush, jeez,” she teased. “But no, it’s going to be cream.” She smirked at the relief he didn’t bother to hide. “I’ve decided to paint the exterior of the house cream and accent it with this forest green. And maybe some gold.” She brushed a piece of flyaway hair, an escapee from her braid, away from her face. “Or possibly red.”
“Not sunshine yellow like in the kitchen?”
“You hate that color, don’t you? But I wanted something bright and sunny for the best and most used room in the house. It’s the center of a home, people gather there. It’s where people chat and enjoy meals together or a late cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter night.”
“I prefer to have something hot late at night in bed. But the kitchen table would do.”
Typical man with only one thing on his mind. But after he said it, she couldn’t shake the thought of having sex with Mace on the kitchen table. Would it be uncomfortable? It was something she’d never tried before and might be a great prop—
Colby jumped when he placed his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in close to her, murmuring in her ear, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
His breath stirred the loose hair by her ear, tickling her, sending a shiver up her spine. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy squeezed in anticipation. His lips were close enough that if she tilted her head just slightly…
She shook it instead. “Only if you’re thinking how perfect this furniture will look on the porch.”
Mace ran his hands down her arms and took the paintbrush from her fingers. After placing it on a lid, he turned her to face him. His large, warm hands cupped her cheeks. “I have fantasies of taking you on these drop cloths. In some of them, I paint designs all over your body, slowly swirling the brush in sensitive places, like your lips, your breasts, your—”
“Mace.” Her heart skipped, and a split second later, resumed beating violently. Warmth rushed between her legs, making her panties hot and damp. She needed him to touch her. She wanted his lips against hers, so male, so warm. Before she changed her mind, she pulled his head down to capture his mouth, smothering his sound of surprise.
He gripped the small of her back to press her against him. She couldn’t be more aware of his body, his desire clearly matching hers. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him, especially when her body gave her away.
Trembling, she yanked the T-shirt from his jeans and slid her hands beneath the thin cotton, running them over the scorching heat of his chest. Her fingers followed the contours until she reached his small male nipples, her thumbs circling the tight nubs. The desire to rake her teeth against them overcame her; she wanted to hear a quick intake of breath when she nipped his skin. Maybe leave another love bite.
“This isn’t fair; I should be doing this to you. Take it off,” he ordered, his voice so gruff, it sounded nearly painful.
She didn’t hesitate to tear his shirt over his head and toss it aside. All the exercises he did kept his muscles hard and lean. Just to see them excited her; except now, she got to touch them, experience the searing smoothness of his skin, the roughness of the dark hair disappearing into his waistband.
He fingered the button on his jeans.
“No.” Colby stopped him, brushing his hands away. “Let me.”
He dropped his arms to his side, and his eyes became dark, clouded, as she released the top button and slowly slid the zipper down.
Mace growled softly when the back of her knuckles grazed his hard length. “Fuck. You’re going to kill me.” He grabbed her by the back of her arms and pulled her against him. “At least,” he murmured against her lips, “I’ll go with a smile.”
He lowered her down to the drop cloth, slowly following her, and unbuttoned the baggy work-shirt hiding her curves.
Colby closed her eyes for a moment as the air cooled her hot skin. She opened them when he released the clasp of her bra and then pulled it and her shirt off her arms. Mace knelt over her, staring at her breasts.
Then he grasped both of them with his hands and softly kissed each nipple. She arched her back, thrusting herself closer to his mouth, his lips, his tongue.
“So beautiful. You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes.”
Damaged Page 8
