On Her Six (Under Covers)

by Christina Elle

  Filling his lungs with the warm night air, he turned to see the body of his neighbor lying so still.

  Soon, very soon she’d be awake. And in need. Though he’d have to wait to find out which of her needs would outweigh the other. The drugs. Or her libido.

  Chapter Eleven

  Removing everything from his body except his boxer briefs and a pair of gym shorts, Ash crawled into bed next to his neighbor, too damn tired to worry about administering first aid on himself. He’d splashed water on his face and wiped away most of the blood and grime. It had been a trying night. Rest was what he needed. He normally slept naked, but he definitely wasn’t putting himself in that situation tonight. Not with Blondie’s condition, the fact that they barely knew each other, and the awkward explanation it would cause tomorrow morning. Tonight had been weird enough.

  Reaching for her forehead again, he breathed a sigh of relief that Blondie’s temperature had leveled out. She rolled, whimpering as she huddled into him. He hated himself for noticing how well her head fit onto his shoulder and her hips curved into his.

  When she shifted onto her side, her hair lifted, fanning out on the pillow behind her. It gave him full view of her slender neck.

  Best place to start kissing a woman…

  He grinned at the thought. Lips were fine, but that soft patch of skin at the back of the neck really warmed the blood. Scandalous and sweet, all at the same time. She was just the right height for it, too. Perfect for his six-three frame to caress the sensitive spot with his tongue. His groin tightened as he imagined other things he could do to her with his tongue.

  Giving in to the heat, he closed his eyes and thought about wrapping himself around a woman, holding her close, catching a trace of her sweet scent. It had been so long; he’d almost forgotten how amazing women smelled. Jasmine, lilac, vanilla, lemon. Even the simple scent of shampoo wafting into his nostrils got his blood started. Each woman’s scent was different, but in a way the same, too. They all smelled like their own piece of heaven.

  A violent shiver shook her body, yanking him away from his thoughts.

  The woman’s injured. Pull yourself together!

  “Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re going to be okay, Blondie. The drugs just have to work their way out of your system.”

  He caressed her back and shoulders, trying to create as much friction as possible to warm her up. The long-ignored stir low in his belly rekindled, and he fought to keep his thoughts in check.

  No. He told his subconscious.

  Why not? It asked back.

  I can’t.

  How long’s it been? Months?

  Not going to happen.

  Why? the voice persisted, almost in a whine.

  He continued to stroke her back, sliding his fingers along the plane of her spine, down and up again, imagining how it would feel to give in to his needs.

  Ash hadn’t been tempted after Lorena. Hadn’t allowed himself to. Women had always been a means to an end. He’d accepted that.

  But this one—he didn’t know what to make of her.

  Bringing him back to the present, Blondie pulled her arms from under the covers and threw the sheet down past her stomach.

  He stopped breathing. There was just enough light from the street to filter streams along her bare skin. Oh Christ. The shape of her petite round breasts were visible. They were already pert and aroused. His groin tightened further, and his subconscious laughed at him.

  This was going to be a long night.

  Eyes now open wide, she ran her fingernails up his exposed chest, over his shoulders, and gripped his biceps.

  He closed his eyes and imagined the situation differently—that she wasn’t under the influence and she had come to him willingly.

  Huge mistake.

  She rolled off the pillow, positioning herself over him, and laid sweet wet kisses on his neck, jawline, and cheek. He hissed in a breath at the feel of her tight nipples running along his chest. His hands lifted to her back but halted before contact was made. “Not like this,” he reminded himself. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, trying with all his might to regain composure. His body reacted to every movement she made, humming to life, hardening beyond comprehension.

  It’s just been awhile. This was a normal reaction after the drought he’d been through.

  What a crock of shit. He wanted this woman. Bad. And it pissed him off that she’d snuck under his radar.

  Blondie was doing things to him. Making him feel things…things he had vowed to never feel again.

  She trailed her hot mouth along his chest, abdomen, and then reached the line of his waistband. With its own agenda, his cock jumped, straining against his shorts.

  Like a bolt of lightning, his fingers gripped her shoulders and yanked her toward the headboard. Fuck. There was no way he’d stop her if she started touching him down there.

  As if reading his thoughts, her lips formed into a wicked curve. Jesus, he’d give his entire pension to read what was going through her head.

  He held her still, suspended above him, his blood coursing through his veins in protest for not allowing this beautiful creature to have her way with him.

  His subconscious said a few choice words he chose to ignore.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, hoping to distract everyone involved.

  The corners of her mouth curled higher in knowing anticipation. Like a black widow, luring her lover close before she snapped his head off. “Anything you want it to be.”

  He groaned. Yep, long night. Tipping his head to the side, he raised an insistent eyebrow.

  She let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “Samantha. Happy? Now can I continue?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know my name?”

  “Not really.” She jolted forward, catching him off guard, and planted her lips on his.

  Soft and perfect, that’s all he could think. She was eager and she was here, making it extremely hard to remember he was a gentleman.

  Hard. Yeah, definitely hard. Dangerously hard.

  It brought back images of their kiss outside Club Hell. When she saved him. When she took control. Damn, he loved when a woman took control during sex.

  She opened her mouth and ran her tongue along his lips, then dipped inside and moaned.

  His body shot to attention, ready to engage. If he didn’t stop her now, he wasn’t going to.

  And he had to.

  She somehow managed to crawl on top of him—when or how, he had no idea—and straddled him.

  Now. Definitely now. Stop her now.

  With every ounce of restraint he had left, he planted his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. He flipped her onto her back and used his weight to pin her onto the mattress.

  She gave him a grin that almost stopped his heart.

  He held her wrists above her head. The hold didn’t help his control as it lifted the swell of her breasts. They were there for the taking. All he had to do was lean down…

  No. Remaining still, he willed both of their bodies to come down from the high that wouldn’t find release tonight. He pulled the sheet up and tucked it around her chest, burying his hands beneath her to make sure she couldn’t wiggle free. If he could have wrapped her like a fucking burrito, he would have.

  She frowned and squirmed beneath his hold, but her small frame was no match for his strength. “Please?” She gave him a convincing pout. His resolve started to crumble. If he stared any longer at that face—those sad blue eyes and full inviting lips—he’d be a goner for sure.

  “Samantha.” He closed his eyes and exhaled. “We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  He wondered the same damn thing. “Well, for starters, you’re under the influence.” He was fairly certain she wouldn’t be as outgoing without the residual Vamp in her system. But then again, how the hell would he know? She’d been hell on wheels the second she’d walked into his life. “And you’ll regret it in the morning.�
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  Her eyes sparkled with erotic promise. “No, I won’t.”

  He groaned. Images of her naked body on top of him—sliding and stroking to completion—blinded him.

  “Please.” As if her plea wasn’t difficult enough to fight, she slipped one arm between them and grazed her palm against his rock-hard erection.

  He groaned again as his eyes slammed shut.

  Goddamn torture.

  “Oh,” her voice was pleasantly surprised. His eyes fluttered open to see her gaze lower to her errant hand, as if she just now noticed his attraction to her.

  Ash smiled wryly.

  She closed her fingers around the shaft, acquainting herself with his shape. She moved a little slow for his taste, but that could be fixed. Her hand squeezed tighter, and the pace picked up.

  Terrible idea. This is a terrible idea.

  “You’re really big,” she marveled. “And hard.”

  He grew even harder.

  His body started to give in, lowering itself toward her. The thin cotton sheet brushed against the hair on his chest. He moved closer, breathing in her sweet scent as he sought out the sensitive spot on her neck.

  Letting instincts be his guide, he placed his lips on her pulse. It leaped in response to the soft caress. By its own desire, his tongue slid out, tasting her satin skin.

  Salty. Sweet. Delicious.

  Perfect.

  His left hand, feeling grossly neglected, sought out her breast. Beneath the sheet, he filled his palm, kneading and pressing the mound. His thumb circled her nipple, finding it already sharp and tight, crying out for attention. Relief. His body was all too eager to oblige.

  She moaned. “Yes.” Her other hand had escaped his weakened hold and found its place at the base of his head, guiding and urging him on. She shifted, arching her back, offering more to him.

  The movement pulled Ash from what he was about to do. He cursed under his breath. This was insane.

  He reached like a madman for his sanity. Damn, it sucked being the good guy.

  She stiffened beneath him. Her hands moved to his chest, palms covering each pec. Her thumbs mimicked the motion he’d done to her nipple. “Please?” she begged in that soft bedroom voice. “Please. I need you.”

  His body needed her more.

  But he knew it was the drug talking. She’d take anyone right now.

  When he didn’t move, breathe, or speak, she bit off, “What’s the matter with you?”

  Gone was the adorable blue-eyed creature. In its place was a mean she-monster with furrowed brows and puckered lips. She was beginning to feel the severe effects of withdrawal. A pull so intense, Ash knew she’d never experienced anything like it before in her life.

  “Get off me!” Her hips bucked against him.

  He remained in place, gripping her wrists tighter to remind her of his strength.

  “Now!” she said, practically spitting in his face.

  “No.” He was in control of himself, and she damn well better take notice.

  “Ahhh!” She writhed beneath him. “I need— I need—”

  “What you need is to lie still,” he said. “You want another hit, but you’re not going to get it. So be quiet.”

  Her face filled with blood, and her head whipped from side to side.

  Since her eyes hadn’t changed color, he knew she hadn’t ingested the drug. His body relaxed with relief. She’d make it through the night. They just had to wait it out. He was prepared to hold her all night if that’s what it would take to keep her safe.

  “You’re an asshole,” she spat.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

  Ash held her, determined to keep his promise. All night if that’s what it took.

  …

  Warmth. All Sam wanted was to be warm again. An odd need, given her AC had been broken for a week.

  Her body shivered as if she’d been dipped into the icy waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Then all of a sudden, she was scorching and happy, enveloped in the most delicious heat imaginable. Like lying next to an open campfire.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured, snuggling closer.

  Her head pounded at her temples. A few minutes longer and she’d have to give in to the migraine and search for Tylenol. But for the time being, she smiled in satisfaction—

  Why was she naked?

  She never slept naked.

  Ever.

  And why was the delicious warmth hard as a rock?

  Something tightened around her stomach. It gripped, straining her ability to breath.

  Her eyes flipped open.

  In the early morning light, she made out the shapes of trees and power lines outside. But they looked different. Their positions were wrong. There wasn’t a telephone pole in front of her bedroom window. No, no, it was in front of—

  Oh God.

  Her eyes adjusted to the shadows in the room. She was face to face with the silhouette of an angular jaw, broad shoulders, and a dark symbol with wings tattooed on a neck. In this light it appeared to be a bird in black silhouette. An eagle.

  Her neighbor’s eyes were closed, and his breaths regular.

  Why the hell was she in his bed? Why the hell was his shirt off? And—again—why the hell was she naked?

  Sam quickly peeked underneath the covers and exhaled a soft sigh of relief at the sight of dark shorts covering his bottom half. Okay, so hopefully they hadn’t had sex. Though, who knows, because last night was a complete and utter blur. Nothing at all was coming to mind. Or at least nothing that would explain her current state of nakedness and location. First order of business was to get dressed. Then he’d have some explaining to do.

  She lifted her head and surveyed the room. Next to the window was a chair with her clothes draped over it.

  Slowly, so as not to wake the sleeping beast, she slithered toward the edge of the bed. She managed only a few inches before his strong arm locked tighter and pulled her until her nose was within inches of his bare chest.

  She froze. When his deep, steady breaths blew across her skin, her body relaxed. He was still asleep.

  A mixture of sweat and musk invaded her nostrils. She didn’t think sweat could ever smell good, but with him, it was like an invigorating cologne. An essence of rugged maleness and brute strength designed to awaken all of her female senses.

  She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, enjoying the sensation of being surrounded by him—all of him. It had been so long since she’d lain this close with a man, the heat and scent of his skin floating around her. She’d forgotten how amazing it was. How comforting. The tighter his hold, the safer she felt. A complete stranger; and yet at that moment, she was at home with him.

  How was that possible?

  He stirred, grumbling into her ear. The sizzling air against her skin roused things inside her she didn’t recognize. Nerve endings all over tingled and came alive. It was overwhelming, lying next to a man who possessed such a powerful presence.

  She moved, daring to press the full length of her body against his. Just once she wanted to feel safe and protected. Forget about the worry of losing Grandma Rose—a never-ending concern after having lost everyone else she loved. No, just this once she needed someone else to shoulder the burden of keeping Sam and her loved ones safe. This man, holding her in his capable hands, made her feel like she could let go. Allow someone in. To shelter her. Take care of her. The way she’d never let anyone else before.

  He grumbled softly again.

  She stilled, holding her breath for fear of waking him and ruining this perfect moment of contentment.

  Calm, deep sounds reverberated against her ear.

  She inched closer to him until their bodies touched with nothing between them but the thin, cotton bed sheet. His large warm frame overshadowed her small naked one. She nuzzled her face into his neck, enjoying the mouthwatering shivers overtaking her body because of the contact.

  Suddenly, a hand stroked her hair, trailing down the middle of her b
ack and continuing the journey of her spine all the way to her rear end. It was a firm, skilled hand, one that had experience traveling a woman’s contours, knowing just the right spots to invoke the most stimulating response. He squeezed her right butt cheek in his large palm. Her stomach did somersaults and her muscles melted. He murmured incoherently, pulling her closer, positioning her against his hardness.

  If she wanted heat, well, she got it. Between his body temperature and the flames igniting inside her, the bed was sure to catch fire at any second. She was surprised it hadn’t already.

  His hand gripped her thigh, forcing her leg to hitch over his hip, yanking it along with the sheet. Then he traveled up her back again. His hand grabbed the base of her neck and dragged her on top of him.

  Was he still asleep? Or was he awake and thought she was asking for this?

  She didn’t know. Nor did she have time to find out.

  Before she could react, before she could attempt to refuse her neighbor, she straddled him and he hastily pulled her face toward his. By their own accord, her eyes dropped closed and she waited.

  Then their lips touched.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Samantha?” Her weight rested on his midsection, and her image appeared above him. Her face was inches from his, eyes closed and lips parted. Unexpected, but an incredible image for a man to wake up to.

  He licked his lips, tasting sweetness only a woman could leave behind.

  Had they—?

  A look of alarm covered her face as her eyes opened and her body shot up. Perfect form for riding in a saddle. The bed sheet had fallen to her waist. It took everything he had to lie still and only look into her eyes. But damn, those tight, perky breasts called to him. She cocked her head, suddenly cautious. “How do you know my name?”

  He shouldn’t enjoy the warm sensations against his stomach, but hell, he was a guy. He didn’t move a muscle for fear she’d realize their position.

  “You told me last night,” he said. “I’m Ash, by the way. I know we didn’t have much time for introductions. What, with air conditioners falling on my head and overgrown bartenders trying to kill me.”