Bad to the Bone

by Debra Dixon

  “We can check the messages tomorrow,” Sully told her. “Come here.”

  He met her at the bottom of the stairs so she didn’t have to walk on the tarp that had covered the body. Jessica wondered if Sully had made them leave it on purpose to spare Iris the sight of the bloodstains. Probably.

  The kid was as tough as they came, but Jessica knew how hard she was trying not to cry, not to think about Lincoln, her dad, what happened. When Sully picked her up to swing her past the tarp, Iris’s arms went briefly around his neck as if he were an anchor. Jessica envied Iris the freedom to take comfort wherever she could find it. Especially when Sully returned the hug before setting her down.

  “You comin’?” Sully asked Jessica, and as Iris stepped out the front door, he added sarcastically, “Or would you prefer to hang around until someone tries it again?”

  Prodded into moving, she asked, “You think traipsing off somewhere is going to keep us safe?”

  “I can guarantee it,” he told her softly.

  “It must be nice to be so sure of everything.”

  She’d reached the bottom stair. The extra few inches almost put her at eye level with Sully. Almost wasn’t enough to erase her awareness of the kind man who filled up a room, filled up her senses. This close she could see the shadows beneath his eyes and that he needed a shave. She noticed the faint scar above one eyebrow, and that his jaw was clenched.

  Somehow she managed to get caught up in the details of the man, in the strength that he radiated. Heat rose up within her. It happened every time he stared down at her. Every time she remembered what he could do with his mouth and his hands.

  “The only thing I’m sure of,” he told her as he leaned forward, his gaze on her lips, “is that I’m a fool.”

  Jessica braced herself for a kiss that never landed. He pulled the overnight bag from her hand and walked away.

  Disappointment billowed up, crowding out the expectation and heat. Alone in the foyer, she realized he wanted her to feel this way. He wanted her to know that there was more unfinished business between them than just the mess of Phil’s disappearance or the break-in.

  He wanted her to know that he called the shots.

  Believe me, I’m in complete control. Jessica clearly remembered saying that to Iris. What a joke, and how right Iris’s tarot cards had been. Sully was in control. He had the experience and the patience to make her life miserable. And she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  Slowly, Jessica followed them to the car. The routine was a familiar one by now. Iris in the middle, Jessica by the window, and silence all around. She broke it when she noticed they weren’t heading downtown.

  “Where are we going?”

  Sully considered lying, but he didn’t. There were enough lies between them already. “My place. It’s not the Ritz, but it’ll do.”

  “Why?”

  He’d expected an argument, outrage, a scene even. Not a simple question. But then Jessie never did what he expected. Without taking his eyes from the road, he said, “Because I want you there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  There was such quiet desperation and need in that question, Sully wondered if Jessie realized how it sounded. This time he turned to answer her. “I guess that’s two things I’m sure of.”

  I’m a fool, and I want you. Yeah, those were the two things.

  The night began to spit rain at them. Sully switched on the wipers and wished whatever it was that drew him to Jessie could be wiped away as easily. But that wasn’t possible. Hadn’t been from the moment he’d touched her. And now he intended to make things worse by putting her in his house.

  A roll of thunder punctuated his misgivings. When they reached the beach, lightning had split the sky too many times to count. It was going to be a long night.

  They were wet by the time they made it from the car to the porch. He carried their things to the spare room. Jessie and Iris followed him slowly through the dark house. He set the bags inside the door and told Jessie, “I’ll make coffee.”

  Translation: Change clothes, tuck Iris in, and then it begins.

  Sully left them and fixed the coffee, but nursed a beer in the dark living room while he waited. His eyes were accustomed to the blackness. He preferred it. The only illumination came from the occasional flash of lightning. The drapes were drawn, but the wooden door stood open.

  Jessie was easy to see when she finally came out of the guest room. She wore a long white T-shirt and dark leggings. As his gaze ran downward, he noticed she was barefoot again. He was too. His boots were the only thing he’d bothered to remove, preferring instead to sit and wait for Jessie.

  Hesitantly she came forward, hand in front of her and taking small steps. “Could you turn on a light?”

  “The couch is right beside you. Just sit down.”

  “I’m not very fond of the dark,” she finally admitted as she sank into the couch, as far away from him as possible.

  Sully flipped on the lamp beside him. She blinked and then focused on the beer in his hand. “I thought you were making coffee.”

  “I did. You want some?”

  She shook her head and tackled the next issue. “The guest room bed is only a single.”

  “I know. You can take my room. I’ll sleep out here.”

  “The couch isn’t long enough.”

  “I know that too. But the chair’ll do just fine. It knows me better than most people. Hell, it treats me better than most people.”

  He intended the insult to hit home. He wanted to prick that veneer of hers. She was so damned good at looking innocent and needy that he had to remind himself of the controlled woman who’d stared down at him from the railing earlier. That woman hadn’t been vulnerable. Not a bit.

  Setting the beer down, Sully hauled himself up and went to stare out the screen door. He needed distance. His shirt felt cool against his skin as the rain whipped the breeze around. Sea air and rain mixed into a clean scent that helped calm his mind. Until Jessie’s soft voice reached him.

  “Thank you.”

  As if that covered it.

  Sully’s patience snapped; the rage flared.

  ELEVEN

  Jessica held completely still as Sully wheeled around. For an instant lightning created a silhouette of him in the frame of the door. When the thunder followed, the power went out, leaving her alone in the dark with a man who knew too many of her secrets.

  This moment was what people meant when they talked about hell breaking loose. Sully could easily play the devil’s part.

  “Thank you?” he echoed too softly as he walked toward her. The ice in his voice chilled her to the bone. “Thank you? Do you have any idea what it may have cost me to stand there while Eason fell all over himself in his haste to believe your lies? To shrug when he said that there was no need to bother with ballistics? You killed a man, Jessie, and no matter how strong the reason, we both know I let you get away with it. And all you can manage to tell me is, ‘Thank you’?”

  He kicked the coffee table out of his way and pulled her up from the couch. “You’re going to tell me more than that. You’re going to tell me the truth. For once. Do you think you can manage that, Jessie?”

  “No.”

  It was the worst possible answer. It was also the truth. His fingers tightened on her arms. She thought he might shake her, but he didn’t. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she saw the struggle within him reflected in his face. It was the same struggle she faced every time he touched her.

  Issues disappeared. Anger melted into anticipation. Only hunger was left behind, fed by the memories of the last time Sully put his hands on her.

  He had warned her in Houston what would happen when his anger dropped away. This time she didn’t run. She needed him, his strength, something to hold on to in the dark.

  She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Just for a little while she wanted to be important to someone. Before tomorrow came. Before she walked into the trap she’d set for herse
lf.

  Deliberately she brought her hands up, flattening her palms against his chest and leaning forward. She saw the muscles work in Sully’s neck and jaw as he grasped at the last trace of anger.

  “This won’t change anything,” he told her, increasing the pressure against her arms, holding her back.

  Yes, it will. It’ll change everything.

  But she didn’t argue; she kept leaning, waiting for him to lose the battle that she’d already lost. As the seconds passed, she could tell his will was stronger than hers, and she finally had to goad him.

  “Why don’t you stop thinking about it and just do it, Sully?” she asked. “You’ll feel better. I’ll feel better. We’ll both—”

  Sully cut off the words with his mouth, his tongue thrusting between her parted lips. As soon as he kissed her, an eddy of desire rippled through her. This was what she wanted—his heat, his intensity inside her, making the loneliness go away, making her feel alive.

  But it wasn’t enough, he still controlled her, pushing her away, letting only their mouths mate. This time she wanted it all. When she tried to unbutton his shirt, he caught her hands and broke the kiss.

  “I don’t think so, Jessie. This is my show. You wanted me to ‘just do it’? That’s not how it works. Not with me. This is going to take a while.” Sully dragged her hands behind her. “I’ll tell you what I want when I want it. Those are the rules, Jessie. You still want to play?”

  His voice was like quicksilver spilling through her. Jessica couldn’t remember wanting anything more. She didn’t trust herself to speak, afraid the yes would turn to maybe. This was the point of no return. Sully made that very plain. She took a deep breath and nodded.

  When Sully saw Jessie’s surrender, he smiled and let go of her. “Take off your shirt.”

  She cut her eyes toward the spare bedroom. “But Iris is—”

  “She’s dead asleep or the thunder would have woken her already. Take off your shirt. Don’t tell me you’re shy.” His voice dropped. “We both know better. And I’ve already seen what’s under there. I just want to see it again.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Sully waited. When her hands strayed to the edge of her T-shirt, he felt his arousal jump, hardening. As she lifted the shirt, light from the storm flooded the room, and despite his control Sully had to let his breath out slowly between his teeth to keep from groaning.

  She was damn near perfect if you liked your women with curves. And he did.

  “The derringer’s missing,” he noted in a voice too husky, as she pulled the shirt free of her hair and tossed it on the couch.

  “I don’t usually wear it to bed.” Her answer was a whisper.

  “Lucky me.” Sully traced the edge of one bra strap downward, over the curve of her breast to the center of the deep-cut bra. It was a shade darker than her skin and fastened in the front. One wrong move and she’d tumble out of the thing.

  He let his fingers toy with the satin ribbon that disguised the hook, and enjoyed the way she caught her breath when his fingers slipped behind the ribbon. Dropping his hand finally, he said, “Unhook it. Nothing else. Just unhook it.”

  Because there was no light, he wasn’t completely sure, but he thought her hands shook as she fumbled with the catch. Impatiently he pushed them away and popped the hook himself. Then, he started on the buttons of his own shirt as Jessie tried to figure out what to do with her hands and her eyes.

  It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman who could still be nervous about something as simple as sex.

  Her hands stopped their clenching and unclenching as he reached the waistband of his jeans. Her head angled down, gaze riveted. Sully pulled out his shirttail and kept right on unbuttoning. When he finished, he spread his shirt open and then reached for the edges of her bra. In one motion he peeled back the cups and brought her to him, using the bra to hold her against him.

  The half shudder that accompanied her sigh as she melted into his chest almost undid him. When he lifted her chin, her eyes were closed, and suddenly it wasn’t a wicked of control anymore. Jessie wasn’t playing a game. This wasn’t just sex. This was real, and Sully felt a little piece of himself slip away, felt the solid ground beneath his feet become quicksand.

  Jessica didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t that she’d lose herself in the feel of his body against hers. Her nipples tingled. Sensation hummed along her nerve endings, pooling between her legs. She had to close her eyes to anchor herself. To keep from asking Sully to touch her and to keep from rubbing herself against the thatch of hair on his chest.

  Sully had rules, and she refused to break them.

  When he lifted her chin, she knew she should open her eyes, should meet what would be a mocking gaze with a challenge of her own, but she couldn’t. She wanted this to be real. She wanted to pretend that Sully felt something for her besides the lust. If she opened her eyes, she couldn’t pretend anymore.

  The first kiss was tender. No more than a brush of his lips. Jessica moaned in frustration. All she got for her trouble was a kiss on the shoulder as he stripped off the bra. Her hands found their way around him, mirroring the touch of his fingers as they explored the small of her back. With every stroke his mouth moved another inch along her shoulder toward her neck.

  Then he covered her sides with his palms, moving them upward until his thumbs could stray beneath her arms, along the swell of her breasts. Jessica shifted her hands, sliding them along his biceps to his shoulders and exposing more of herself to his touch. His mouth found the pulse in the side of her neck, but he was obviously going to make her wait for anything else.

  She wasn’t sure she could. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “Sully, please.”

  It was as close to begging as she’d ever come.

  He cupped one breast, lifting it slightly, brushing his thumb across the tip as his mouth trailed down from her neck to capture the nipple. Jessica tried not to make a sound. But the best she could do was a close-mouthed moan at the first pull. His mouth was so hot, and wet, and merciless. She felt the pulse of each tug echo between her legs, felt herself growing damp.

  When he took his mouth away and abruptly lifted her to carry her into his bedroom, it was almost a relief, a respite from the relentless sensation that threatened to swamp her. But the respite didn’t last. Sully lowered her almost as quickly as he’d picked her up. He shut the door by backing her against it, taking her mouth roughly as he shed his shirt.

  She took advantage to run her hands over his chest before he could pull them away, soaking up the texture of hair beneath her fingers. When his hands were free, he didn’t stop her. Instead she felt him unfastening his jeans. A quiver shot through Jessica as she felt his hardness against her belly. The thin leggings weren’t much more than a second skin.

  Sully had to cut Jessie off when her hands dropped toward the opening of his jeans. He circled her wrists and returned her hands to his chest. She could touch him; she just couldn’t hasten the inevitable. Right now, he was fighting with every breath to make this last.

  She was magic in his arms, soft and giving—responding to his touch like she’d never been pushed to the edge before. Sully wanted that; he wanted her so close to oblivion that when he entered her, all she’d need was a nudge to send her over.

  Smoothing a hand down over her abdomen, he felt her muscles tighten, but this time he didn’t have to ask. She braced her legs apart, giving him access. Her pants were so thin, he could feel her heat and the pulse of her desire as he cupped her intimately. But it wasn’t the same as silken flesh against his fingertips.

  Tired of waiting, Sully curled his hands in the waist of her leggings and peeled them off her. Jessie’s gasp was her only protest until he began to kiss her belly button, his mouth sinking lower as his hands rode her thighs upward. When he kissed the curls of her mound and used his thumbs to expose the sensitive nub, she froze, realizing at last what he intended.

  But she didn
’t say no.

  Sully swirled a circle with his tongue, only to stop because his own control began to slip as she trembled beneath his touch. The spike of passion rose in him so fast that he had to rest his forehead against her belly until the moment passed. As he retraced his path to her breasts, the hollow of her throat, and finally her mouth, Sully didn’t remember ever having to hold himself back. Couldn’t remember a woman who could destroy his control without ever having touched him.

  That’s why Jessie was dangerous. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, she’d had the power to wreck his restraint. He’d fought emotion all his life, only to find a woman who could make him feel, make him want to lose himself inside her.

  With every brush of his lips against hers, he pulled her toward the bed. He wanted to be inside that tight velvet glove before he came. Turning so that she reached the bed first, Sully let her sink back as he got rid of his jeans.

  Her eyes were wide now, suddenly wary as he knelt between her legs. She opened for him, but her breathing was fast, her belly tight as he ran a hand over it. When the tip of his hardness rubbed against her silken folds, she arched her back and closed her eyes.

  Still Sully held back, going slowly again, making sure she was ready for him. As his manhood teased her damp softness, he let his fingers stroke her thighs, down and up. With each circuit of his fingertips, he could feel her wetness coating him, allowing him to slip a tiny bit farther inside the velvet tightness that taunted him.

  When her hips finally rose to meet him, Sully lost the battle and sank himself inside her. He heard her sharp gasp, felt the thin evidence of her virginity shred as he thrust, but by then it was too late. The damage was done and no way to repair it. Sully froze, afraid to move for fear he’d come. Afraid not to move for fear he was hurting her.

  The storm that raged outside was nothing to the one that raged within him. All the signs he’d dismissed or ignored flooded through him. And so did the incredible knowledge that Jessie belonged to him and no one else. Another piece of his soul slipped away.