Guard (The Underground Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  Of course, what he did wasn’t exactly legal. He fought under the radar and was paid from illegal gambling winnings. But she couldn’t fault a man for doing what he had to do to survive. It was more than most people would do.

  He sighed in his sleep and turned his face in her direction. His perfect mouth hung slightly open, his lush lips tempting her for the millionth time. She wanted to run her finger over them. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to lick them to see if they were as soft as they looked.

  His spiked, blond hair was short enough it was never out of place. It stood on end naturally. Her hands had brushed against it a few times, but she would love to run her palm over the top.

  And he was so freaking tall. Maybe there were plenty of people his height in the world, but for some reason his six-five stature combined with his broad frame and fierce look made him superhuman.

  Haley tucked an errant curl behind her ear and crossed her arms at her chest. She’d been a little underweight when he’d found her, but she was slowly putting it back on. It would take a while. Often she wasn’t hungry.

  When he sighed again, her nipples stiffened. She squeezed her thighs together and shuddered. How did he have this impact on her? She was a grown woman. Thirty years old, for Christ’s sake.

  In the past she’d dated mostly nerdy types, men who were too intellectual for their own good. Skinny. Talked too much—especially about themselves and their achievements.

  The last guy she went out with was almost two years ago. His name was Bradley. She met him through Belinda, one of her only friends from college. Belinda was a journalist working her way up the tough ladder. Brad was a friend of her older brother.

  He bored Haley to tears even though she’d given him about five dates just to prove to herself he wasn’t the “one.”

  Brad was all corporate business. He laughed at his own jokes—ones Haley didn’t understand in the least.

  He tried too hard.

  Mikhail was the polar opposite of Brad.

  She worried she was attracted to him because he saved her, or because he understood her job better than anyone else, or because she was desperate. Whatever the reason, she was in so much trouble. She needed to let him get back to his life. He was living out of a duffle bag he kept in the corner of her bedroom.

  A part of her knew she needed to stop spending so much time with him. She had leaned on him for almost three weeks. A stranger.

  Well, he wasn’t a stranger anymore. But this incessant need to pace around her bedroom at night and stare at him sleeping had to stop. In her mind, she’d built him up to be some sort of god. After all, she’d thought of him as Thor from the first moment she saw him.

  Her own personal Norse god, her protector.

  And Lord knew she needed one. As if her situation wasn’t stressful enough, while he’d been keeping her practically sequestered in her apartment out of harm’s way, his best friend’s car was blown to smithereens two weeks ago outside the venue where he fought that night.

  She hadn’t been there, and she had no idea why she found it so upsetting, but she’d met Leo, and she liked both him and his girlfriend, Katie. She didn’t like to hear of anyone in harm’s way.

  There was no doubt in anyone’s mind the same people who had kidnapped her and held her against her will had also blown up Leo’s Trans Am.

  “Haley…” Mikhail’s deep voice startled her. Shit. He was awake.

  She pushed off the doorframe and dropped her hands. Her face turned every shade of red. He’d caught her staring at him. Lord.

  “Can’t sleep?” He pushed himself to a seated position, stuffing pillows behind his back. “Come here.” He held out a hand.

  Her tongue was tied. Getting closer, hell touching him, was probably not the best plan. But not doing so wasn’t even an option.

  She managed to tell her legs to move forward and inched toward him. Her living room was so small the pullout took up nearly every inch of space. The coffee table and end table were pushed against the wall next to the door. The only other chair in the room was a recliner she had to squeeze around to get to him.

  His hand was still lifted when she got to his side, giving her no choice but to reach out with her own fingers and let him wrap his larger warm hand around hers.

  She shivered. It wasn’t cold in the room, but every time she touched him, electricity shot through her body.

  He tugged until she sat on the edge of the thin mattress, its creak making her wince. It couldn’t be comfortable.

  Her position wasn’t good enough for Mikhail, however. He continued to pull her arm so she had to lean in his direction until she threw out her other hand to brace herself against his six pack. And still she fell. When her body landed, aligned with his on her side, she stopped breathing.

  Her cheek lay against his chest, her hand spread on his stomach.

  He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her even closer. And then his fingers reached up to thread into her hair while his other hand landed on top of hers on his belly.

  It was so intimate. Way too intimate. If she inhaled, his scent would drive her insane. Already her apartment smelled like him. She didn’t think she could stand this level of proximity.

  She closed her eyes as she was forced to eventually breathe.

  Heaven. In his arms she felt safe. Calm. Secure.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Mmm.” She gave a noncommittal sound.

  “You don’t sleep enough. You must be exhausted. You spend half of every night pacing.”

  He knew that? Lord.

  As he began to massage her scalp, she moaned, unable to stop herself. The sound shocked her, and she sucked in a breath and pursed her lips. What were the chances he hadn’t noticed?

  His chest jiggled as he laughed. “Relax. You’re so tense.” His hand on top of hers traveled up her arm, drawing goose bumps.

  She realized she was only wearing a tight cotton camisole. White. Her legs were covered with light flannel pajama pants, but she hadn’t put anything on over her shirt. And her damn nipples… If he noticed…

  His fingers dug into her shoulder and neck. It felt so good.

  “Did you used to sleep all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn.”

  “I mean, I’m not the sort who needs many hours of sleep, but I didn’t wake up and wander, either,” she mumbled against his chest.

  His warm chest.

  His smooth, rock-hard, amazingly muscular chest.

  When he tipped his face toward her and nuzzled the top of her head with a long inhale, she almost died. “Your hair always smells amazing. Like coconut and honey.”

  He noticed that sort of thing?

  “You’re safe, you know. Nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m here.”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t help me fall asleep.”

  He gasped. “You doubt my abilities,” he teased.

  She smiled against his chest. “No, but I can’t convince my mind otherwise. Besides, I’m invading your life. You can’t sleep on my couch forever.” She lifted her chin to set it on his shoulder and face him.

  Too close.

  Way too close.

  But to move away now would be awkward.

  “I’m here for as long as you need me. Ivan’s with my sister, and now Sergei and Nikolav are staying at my apartment too. Hell, it’s probably too crowded. You’re doing me a favor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right. Because this pull-out couch is so comfortable, and you have so much space. Shit, your legs don’t even fit. Your feet hang off the end.” Nothing about the sofa could possibly be comfortable.

  He shrugged. “It’s fine. Trust me. I spent over half my life sleeping on worse beds than this one.”

  “That may be, but you shouldn’t have to anymore. I wish you would take the bedroom. I don’t mind the couch at all. In fact, I don’t need it open. I could sleep on the cushions.” They’d had this argument ten times.

  “And you�
�d sleep soundly next to the front door while I was in the bedroom?” he teased.

  He had her there. Same old argument.

  “Why do you do it?” she mumbled.

  “Do what?” His hand threaded deeper into her hair, forcing her face closer to his. Another few inches and she could get her wish to taste those luscious lips.

  “Stay here. With me,” she whispered. Why was she lying halfway on this man in nothing but a thin, tight camisole? Insanity was taking over.

  “Because you don’t want to go to a safe house, and my apartment is crowded?” He smiled through his logic.

  She stared at his lips as a smile spread. Her heart beat faster. She licked her own lips, her mouth suddenly dry.

  Silence. Long moments of nothing but her heart rate pounding in her ears. She couldn’t remove her gaze from his mouth.

  And then his hand flattened on the back of her head and he pressed gently. “Kiss me.” His voice was ragged. Deeper. Hoarse. He inhaled slowly, not pressing harder. Waiting.

  She couldn’t move. She wanted those lips on her so badly. But should she? Weren’t they crossing into dangerous territory if she did so?

  “Mikhail…” His name rolled off her tongue. So what if she threw caution to the wind and kissed this gorgeous man who was staying in her apartment? “I don’t want to make things awkward between us,” she told his lips.

  “They don’t have to be awkward.”

  “But we’re…”

  “We’re what? We met. We have a connection. We’re permitted to act on it. There’s no law that says otherwise.”

  She wiggled out of his grip and hauled herself to sitting next to him. “There’s the fact that I need you. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because I don’t think I can stay here alone right now.” She crossed her legs and fumbled with her fingers in her lap. “I’m not being fair at all. I know that. But you make me safe. My world’s upside down, and the only times I feel normal are when you’re close. It’s not rational.”

  He stroked his hand down her arm and cupped her elbow. “Not everything has to be rational. It just is. There’s a chemistry between us, and you know it. I’ve done my best to keep my distance, let you clear your brain of all the drugs, give you time to put your head on straight.

  “But it’s been almost three weeks. I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t been attracted to you from the moment I saw you. I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, but every time I lose.”

  She watched his face closely. He was dead serious. And his voice… Damn his voice. His Russian accent tingled down her spine every time he spoke. But right now… His hoarse deep timbre… God…

  “You’re so gorgeous.” He touched her hair again. “I love these curls. I love your porcelain skin. I love the way you cross your feet under you nearly every time you sit anywhere. When you laugh, it lights up your face. When you cry, it burns in my chest.” He rubbed a hand between his pecs.

  She stopped breathing. Was it possible he was as attracted to her as she was to him?

  “If you don’t feel the same, just say so, and I won’t ever mention it again.”

  Seconds ticked by again. She slowly lifted her gaze to his face, seeing the vulnerability there. The man laid all the cards down. Without hesitating another moment, she lurched forward and set her mouth on his. She intended to keep it simple, express her agreement with her lips, but that’s not how it went.

  As soon as she felt his warm full soft lips, she angled to one side and pressed harder, deepening the kiss. She’d never in her life been this brazen.

  But then again, a sexy Russian fighter had never slept for three weeks on her couch.

  His lips were everything she imagined and more. Soft. Delicious. And Lord the man knew how to use them.

  When she licked the seam between them to tease him with her tongue, her world flipped upside down.

  Literally.

  He grabbed her shoulders and switched positions with her so she was flat on her back and he hovered over her. Except he didn’t hover. Not at all.

  He never broke the kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and devoured her, one hand cupping her face with fingers so broad they extended from the back of her head, over her cheek, and down her neck. His palm rested on her shoulder.

  When she moaned into his mouth, he tossed one leg over hers, nudging her knees apart to situate his thigh between them.

  She grabbed his forearm with one hand and cupped the back of his head with the other. Holy smokes. Her arousal shot through the roof. Brain cells leaked out onto the pillow. Every inhale filled her senses with more of him. Every swipe of her tongue filled her with his taste.

  She molded her hands to his head and forearm, learning his feel. He was rock solid, and she loved it. She smoothed her hand down from his head to his neck and then his back. Every inch of him. Tight bundles of bulging muscles.

  He eased his hand down from her face to her torso, spreading his fingers out until they stretched around to her back and down toward her belly. His thumb grazed the edge of her breast and made her arch into him.

  He kept kissing her.

  She never wanted him to stop.

  A fire she hadn’t known existed lit inside her, warming her everywhere. She couldn’t stay still. She needed to move. Touch him everywhere. And she let her hands roam all over his back and down to his ass. So bold. The tight muscles of his butt made her even hotter.

  Her nipples abraded against the cotton. She wiggled her hips as her pussy came alive as if it had been in hibernation just waiting for the right person to come along and bring it back to life. Wetness leaked into her panties and probably through to her PJs.

  She lifted her hips involuntarily, craving the friction against his thigh.

  He obliged by pushing his knee up higher and thrusting it against her sex.

  Oh. God.

  She couldn’t breathe. So much sensation all at once firing from everywhere. She grabbed his shoulders finally and pushed, trying to break the contact. Her body was on overload, every synapse firing at once. No room to think.

  Mikhail broke the kiss when she shoved on his chest. His breathing was heavy and erratic. He set his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. His thumb stroked over the curve of her breast.

  Suddenly she was self-conscious. This man was a god. His body was a vessel of perfection. She was a skinny redhead with nowhere close to the same level of experience as he clearly had.

  After all, he’d managed to scramble her mind in seconds.

  “Mikhail…” His name rolled off her tongue so easily. Like honey. And she licked her lips as soon as she spoke. They were swollen. Wet from his kiss.

  “Stop squirming, baby. Please.” He closed his eyes, but his mouth curved into a grin.

  She froze, not realizing she was still rubbing herself against his bare thigh. The man wore nothing but boxers. “Sorry.” The word came out as a squeak. What was wrong with her?

  His eyes popped open. “Don’t be. God, never be sorry for the way you feel. Especially if it’s hot and needy. It’s just that you’re making it difficult for me to be a gentleman here.”

  His thumb. God, that thumb. He was driving her mad stroking it across the swollen globe. Every time she breathed, her chest rose up into his thumb tighter.

  She opened her mouth, though she didn’t have any idea how to respond. Her face heated. There would be red splotches everywhere, even down her chest and across her breasts. She’d never been able to control that reaction to embarrassment.

  Mikhail set a finger on her lips. “Shh. I can see the arguments running around in your head. Stop. Just let yourself feel.”

  “I don’t…” she muttered against his finger.

  He pressed harder. “I know.”

  Her belly did a flip flop. Exactly never in her life had she wanted a man as badly as she wanted this one. She longed for him to strip her clothes off and slide inside her.

  Now.

  But she wasn’t that kind of gi
rl. She’d only known him a few weeks. It was way too soon to sleep with him. Wasn’t it?

  Someone needed to give her body the memo.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, licking her lips. “A little too okay.”

  He chuckled, his chest reverberating against hers. “There’s no such thing.”

  “I beg to differ. I’m not the kind of person who gets carried away like that. Like this,” she amended.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re like a firecracker. What are you talking about?”

  She shook her head. “Never. No. I mean, I’m not.”

  His smile spread again. “Then I guess I’ll assume it’s me.”

  “Yeah.” Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. “I mean, no. That didn’t come out right.” She should shut up.

  “No, it’s not me? You react like this with every man?” he teased. He knew her, better than a regular person should. But then again, he’d been in her space for three weeks. It wasn’t a stretch.

  “Of course not. No.”

  He smiled again.

  “I don’t…” What was she going to say? She pursed her lips together and shook her head to keep her thoughts to herself. He didn’t need to know her secrets. Not ever. Especially not now.

  “You don’t what?” he prodded. Dammit.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She needed him to get off her. He sucked the oxygen out of the room so she grew lightheaded. In a moment she was going to embarrass herself with either words or deeds. Probably both.

  “You’re embarrassed. I’m not sure why. Please don’t be.” He didn’t give her an inch.

  “Mikhail, this isn’t me. I don’t get all hot and bothered and out of control. Ever.”

  He grinned for the tenth time. “You do now. And I like it.”

  She blinked up at him. Her body was on fire. She could easily throw caution to the wind and let him fuck her senseless—because she had no doubt that’s what would happen. The man had a level of control she knew would extend to the bedroom. Power rolled off him.

  From the moment she’d met him, he’d taken charge. He literally picked her up off the floor and carried her to safety without knowing a single thing about her. Hell, he didn’t even know if she was one of the good guys.