“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Mahoney is so damn paranoid, that since I got here, he’s been watching me like a hawk. I’ve got some stuff but not much, and I have no way of getting it to my handlers.”
“So, what do you need to find on him?” If they could get the evidence and get out, then she wouldn’t have to look at him and she could get Irma and Frankie to safety.
“These are some bad guys, Dixie. Bad, in ways you can’t imagine. You don’t need to do anything but lay low until I can figure out how the hell to get you out of here.”
“Get out. I need a shower and I need to figure out what the hell to do about my grandmother and my aunt.” She also needed to not look at him. Those blue eyes and the dark hair, with the little bit of stubble that made him so damn sexy, not to mention his full lower lip and the fact that all she could think about was how she’d bite his lip while kissing him and his fingers would dig into her hips. Yeah. He needed to go. And she needed to get her head together.
~*~*~
Nick got the anger. He really did. Things had been going so good between them. Dating had always been hard for him. He couldn’t talk about his work, and most of the time he just felt awkward talking about himself anyway. But with Dixie it had been different. From the moment he’d met her, he’d known she was the one. Then he’d walked away. No phone call, no word. He’d left her sitting at home waiting for him to show up.
Looking at her, with her cheeks flushed and a worried frown creating that tiny little furrow between her brows, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with her. It wasn’t something he’d let himself think about before. They’d only been dating for a few weeks and he shied away from it, not wanting to spook himself or her.
So, he’d played it cool. So cool that when he’d disappeared she just assumed he’d been playing her. It was probably a bad idea. Hell, he knew it was. But he wanted to show her it hadn’t been some kind of game, that everything that had passed between them was real.
Sliding his hands into her dark hair, he watched her eyes go wide for a second, then her lips parted. It might have been surprise or she might have been on the verge of calling him a bastard again. He didn’t give her the chance. Tugging her close, he slanted his mouth over hers, her soft lips crushed beneath his.
The burn was instant. The familiar taste, the softness of her body against him, it set him on fire. Tracing the curve of her lower lip with his tongue, he felt her breath shuddering against his lips. Unable to resist, he slipped his tongue past her lips, into the warm recesses of her mouth. A small sound escaped her, part whimper and part moan. Then she did that thing. Her teeth scraped over his bottom lip and all the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick.
It was the most natural thing in the world to back her against the wall, to pin her there with his body and let her feel just what she was doing to him. When she arched against him, lifting one leg and draping it over his hip, he immediately stepped closer, pressing against her. He cursed the clothes between them. He wanted to be inside her, to feel the damp heat of her flesh clutching at him. Dragging his hands from the rich, dark strands of her hair, he tugged at her shirt, buttons popping and skittering over the marble floor.
She exhaled sharply, the movement lifting her breasts against his chest. Trailing his hands down her arms, he grasped her wrists, lifting her hands above her head, pinning them to the wall. Clasping them in one hand, he freed his other hand to touch her, to savor the softness of her skin.
Never breaking the kiss, his tongue gliding sensually against hers, he cupped her breast, his thumb coasting over a hardened nipple. It was always like that between them. From the moment they’d met, they’d been like horny teenagers falling all over one another. Their first good night kiss had turned into a make out session in the front seat of his car. Their second had them dry humping against the stairwell of her apartment building. By the third date, he’d been in misery and when he’d shown up at her apartment and she’d greeted him in nothing but a silk robe, he’d been lost.
Two and a half weeks since he’d seen her, since he’d touched her. A week since he’d accepted the fact that he probably would never see her again, because even if he managed to survive his assignment, she would never speak to him again. Now, she was pressed against him, one long leg wrapped around his waist while she moaned into his mouth.
Breaking the kiss, he gasped for breath, but only for a second. Then he was kissing her neck, scraping his teeth over the tender skin there in the way that always drove her wild. He didn’t want to give her enough time to think about what was happening. It was shitty and underhanded, but he felt desperate, and they were probably going to die anyway.
“Nick!”
Typically, Dixie was not the name calling type. Moaning, yes. Oh, god, yes. She said that. She said that a lot when things were going really well, but she didn’t say his name. Which told him, that he’d lost her.
“Nick, stop!”
He sighed, heavily. Frustrated. Painfully aroused and wanting more than anything to just put her in his car, drive back to Biloxi and tell his boss to shove it all up his ass. He was not a field operative. He was a computer nerd with a little bit of musical talent and, at the moment, a raging erection in leather pants that were too damned tight to begin with. “Dixie, please,” he whispered. “Just for tonight, let’s pretend like nothing is wrong.”
She twisted her wrists in his grasp and he let her go. Both of her feet were now firmly on the floor and she placed her hands against his chest and pushed him back. “I can’t do that. But you lied to me…IT guys don’t go undercover,” she whispered. “And Mahoney, Mr. Plastic Surgery, he’s scary, Nick. I can’t just ignore the fact that he could make us disappear.”
“Isn’t that precisely why we should seize the moment? We might not got another chance.” It was an old line, a bad one. From the firming of her lips, he knew it. That hand had been overplayed like a drunk at a blackjack table. Reluctantly, he stepped back, wincing as his pants reminded him that Mahoney wasn’t the only source of danger.
“Out,” she said. “I can’t let you mess with my head like this. I need to think and you make that too damned hard.”
“Don’t even talk to me about things being hard,” he shot back through clenched teeth.
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation. “Perpetual twelve year old!”
Moving carefully, he exited the bathroom. He couldn’t hear her moving around over the spray of the shower, but it wasn’t hard to picture. The image of her naked, wet, soap slicking her gorgeous skin—it was burned into his mind forever. Pants, he thought. The pants had to go or he’d be maimed for life.
Lowering the zipper, he began to peel the leather off his skin. Immediately, his body temperature dropped several degrees. Tugging the leather down over his hips, he was still painfully aroused. Stripped to his boxers, he mentally ticked off the rules of HTML code, anything to get his mind off her and to get his blood flowing in another direction.
He’d finally gotten himself under control when he heard a knock at the door. Glancing through the peephole, he saw Goon Number Two. The guy had a name, but damned if he knew what it was. Opening the door cautiously, he said, “What now?”
The goon didn’t answer, just thrust a leopard print suitcase at him. Recognizing that it must be Dixie’s, he took it. “The old ladies are down the hall,” the goon said. “Upgraded by Mr. Mahoney.”
“Thanks.”
The goon grunted, then turned and walked away.
Well, Dixie would be happy at least, he thought. She could check in on Irma and Frankie and make sure they were okay. Though, Frankie was truly never okay. Shaking his head, he brought the suitcase in and set it down outside the bathroom door. “Lurch brought your luggage up,” he called.
“Thank you,” she called back, sounding flustered and breathless.
And back to square one. She probably wasn’t breathless for the very dirty reasons he was imagining. Reg
ardless, he went and sat down on the bed, willing his body not to respond. Sleeping in a bed next to her, not being able to touch her, it would be torture. He was half wishing Mahoney would just kill him and end his misery.
The bathroom door opened and Dixie emerged wearing the hotel’s plush bathrobe. Fluffy, white terry cloth should not be sexy. Rising to his feet, he said, “I’m taking a shower.”
“I think I used all the hot water,” she protested.
As he pushed open the door to escape into the smaller room, he added, “Wasn’t planning on using any of it anyway.” Closing the door behind him, he banged his head against it a few times just for good measure. Maybe he could concuss himself enough to short out his libido. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER THREE
Dixie awoke to the delicious feeling of a warm, male body pressed against hers. Hair roughened legs tangled with hers and a well muscled arm draped over her waist, a callused hand curled just beneath her breast. Waking up with Nick was dangerous for her. It reminded her of all the things she liked about being with him. Fighting the urge to press herself more fully against him, to lift his hand and press it firmly against her breast, she made herself sit up and push the covers back.
He didn’t wake up, just rolled onto his back, murmured something and kicked at the covers. The sheet had slipped down enough to reveal his broad shoulders and perfectly toned chest. He wasn’t heavily muscled, but everything was perfectly, beautifully defined.
Danger zone, she told herself, look away. Getting up from the bed, she walked over to the window and looked out at the pool. It was too early yet for anyone to be out there.
Noise from behind her told her he was awake. She resisted the urge to look back at him, just as she resisted the urge to walk over to the bed, climb on top of him and give both of them the relief they needed. Peering up at the cable concealed in the fold of the curtain, she reminded herself that there were other reasons not to give into to temptation besides it just being a very bad idea.
“Good morning.”
His gruff voice, roughened with sleep, sent chills through her. Girding herself, reminding herself that he was not who she thought he was, she turned around. “Good morning.”
He was getting out of the bed, looking at his cell phone and frowning. His boxer shorts rode low on his hips, doing absolutely nothing to conceal morning wood. Damn, she missed waking up with him when they were on civil terms. He beckoned for her to follow him to the bathroom and since she knew it was the only place in the room where they could speak even semi-freely, she followed.
Walking into the bathroom behind him, she immediately turned around. “Oh my, God! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here to pee?” she hissed.
He rolled his eyes. “How many times have you seen me naked? And this bothers you?”
“That was different!” she seethed, still steadfastly staring at the wall. “I wanted to see you naked then!”
“Look, I need you to pick a fight with me…and then I need you to pretend we’re having loud and enthusiastic make-up sex out there.”
Were it not for the fact that he was still mostly naked behind her, she would have whirled on him and given him a piece of her mind. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!”
“Dixie, there’s a lot riding on this. I need you jumping up and down on that bed and moaning for all you’re worth…loud enough to cover up the sound of me slipping out the door. This is the first I’ve heard from my contact in over a week! The little bit of info I do have, I need to get to someone.”
He was serious. Her jaw agape and her face flaming, she realized he meant every word of it. “You want me to fake orgasms so you can sneak out?”
He grinned at her for a moment. “Yes. I’ve never asked a woman to fake an orgasm before. I guess there really is a first time for everything.”
“This will never work! Won’t they wonder why you’re not making any noise?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. It was a look she’d seen from him often. Mad and sexy.
“It’ll only take a couple of minutes…and I’ve kept my mouth occupied with things other than talking for a hell of a lot longer than that.”
Her face flushed. He had. He really, really had. Just thinking about it had her heart racing. It was so hard to stay mad at him, which she was perfectly entitled to, when all the blood kept rushing to everywhere but her brain. Huffing out a breath; frustrated, embarrassed and strangely turned on, Dixie knew she was in trouble. “What are we supposed to fight about?”
He shook his head at her. “The fictitious money that I owe you. Accuse me of cheating. Whatever.”
“Did you?” It popped out before she could stop herself. Nick was such a good looking guy and in spite of his self-professed nerdiness, she’d seen the way other women eyed him when they went out. He’d appeared oblivious, but maybe he was just a damn good actor.
His eyebrows shot up, a look of utter surprise crossing his face. “Why would you even think that? Dixie, I—No. Just no. I didn’t, I wouldn’t. But this isn’t the time to talk about it.”
He was right. She knew that. Nodding, embarrassed at her own neediness and insecurity, she walked back out into the hotel room and sat down on the bed they’d shared platonically. The same bed she was about to make a fool of herself on, she thought miserably.
Nick emerged from the bathroom and began pulling clothes from the closet. No jumpsuit for the day, just jeans and a t-shirt topped with a ball cap. Even that was sexy. Oh, she was in so much trouble.
He gave her a nod, apparently the signal to get started.
“So, why did you leave?” she demanded. “Why did you just pick up and disappear on me?”
“Baby,” he began, “I don’t want to fight about this. Can’t we just let it go?”
“You had another woman didn’t you?” She laid it on thick, using her most accusatory tone. “It was that slut from the club, wasn’t it?”
He grinned, giving her a thumbs up. “What about you? I saw the way you flirted with that guy at your work! Just a co-worker my ass!”
Getting into the role, she advanced on him, picking up a pillow from the bed and tossing it at him. He batted it aside, sending it crashing into the nightstand, sending the phone and remotes clattering to the floor. “Don’t you turn this around on me! I’m not the one with the sketchy ass track record, you asshole.”
“You knew about my past,” he said sharply. “It’s just like a damn woman to throw it in my face!”
Somehow, in the course of their fake argument, they’d moved closer together. They were both standing beside the bed, only inches apart, their breath mingling hotly. Just as it dawned on her, she saw his eyes widen, his pupils dilating slightly. She knew that look. God, how many times had he looked at her that way and then just dragged her down to the floor, the couch, the stairwell, or any vaguely horizontal surface that was convenient?
His hands came up, gripping her arms gently, coaxing her forward. She didn’t need much enticement. Stepping eagerly towards him, she lifted her face to his. But he didn’t kiss her, instead he whispered next to her ear. “Make it sound convincing.”
Of course, she thought. Feeling a little mean, she moaned softly against his ear, whispering his name. His hands tightened on her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. She could see a muscle working in his jaw as he stared at her.
Emboldened and knowing that he was not unaffected, Dixie pulled away from him and flounced onto he bed, the springs creaking noisily. “Nick!”
His fists clenched at his sides, as he slowly backed away from her. She bounced on the bed, timing the bounces to cover any sounds the door might make. He paused there in the doorway, throwing one last hot look in her direction before disappearing.
The act was much less enjoyably without him present. Still, she continued. Bouncing on the bed in a rhythm that was just dirty, all the while carrying on like a porn star, she had a moment of pity for anyone who was in the room next doo
r.
It got old very quickly. Her throat started to hurt. Her ass was numb from bouncing on the bed. All the discomforts of sex without any of the reward, she thought bitterly. Feeling more ridiculous than sexy, she was relieved when she heard the door open a few minutes later. Nick had stepped back into the room, but the worried look on his face was less than reassuring. Escalating her performance to it’s faux finish, she was acutely aware of his presence.
When all was said and done, or moaned and done actually, he once again gestured to the bathroom, their conference room.
“Did you meet with your contact?” Dixie asked.
“Yeah, that was fine…but Dixie, Frankie was in the casino schmoozing with Mahoney. All over him. Like teenagers. It was bizarre.”
Dixie shrugged. “Not really. Historically speaking if Frankie hooks up with a man, he’s bad news. The goods news is they don’t tolerate her crazy for long. When she starts in with all the UFO stuff they tend to bail pretty quickly.”
~*~*~
Nick stared at her for a moment, trying to process what she’d said. Since he was still practically a walking erection, it wasn’t going well for him. Just thinking about the noises she’d made, the way she felt moving under him. Yeah. He was in trouble.
Forcing himself to focus on the immediate concerns, he added, “Dixie, what if she says something to him that blows my cover?”
She laughed. “Oh, honey, no. The last person you have to worry about is Frankie. Everything she says is so random most people ignore it. Also, she’s very cagey. Personal information is sacrosanct to her. She trusts no one, including me.”
He knew that was true. The first time he met Frankie, he’d had to tell her his opinion on the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing and whether or not extra terrestrials were behind the current weather patterns. It had been a three hour conversation and all he’d wanted to do then was the same thing he wanted to do now—get Dixie naked. Still one thing bothered him. Dixie’s fake orgasms that morning hadn’t sounded all that different from her real ones.
The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary Page 7
