He almost groaned aloud. “Stop teasing me, Emma, I beg of you.”
She took a sip of her beer and grinned again. Next to her, Dean relaxed completely. He was happy to see her, he realized. He’d spent the whole day in a fever of impatience, so much so that Jim had noticed at work and started looking at him funny.
Fuck me. I missed her.
He was mostly quiet as Emma and the guys talked. He was wild with needing to get her back to his place; he wanted to be buried deep inside that curvy little body. He watched her with his friends, saw how she gave them her full attention when they talked to her, as she always did.
With Emma, he always got the feeling that she saw and heard far more than a person meant to show or say. Those blue eyes just looked past the skin, somehow, went deeper. But it wasn’t off-putting or invasive; it just felt like she was connected to you. He knew the guys liked it, too. Even Jim, one of the most suspicious men Dean had ever known, dropped his guard around Emma and talked easily.
After an hour, Chris got to his feet. “OK, guys. I’m off. Early shift tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too.” Jim stretched. “I’ve got an extra shift in the morning.”
“Oh, yeah?” Emma said, her eyes dancing. “Why is that?”
“Covering for the boss.” Jim looked innocent. “Seems he needs the morning off tomorrow.”
“Huh.” Emma contemplated that. “I wonder why that is.”
“Said he had something to do… didn’t go in to details, though.”
“Alright, everyone hush up,” Dean growled. “Let’s go, baby.”
She stood up and gave the guys hugs goodnight. Dallas looked troubled when he hugged Emma and he held her for a few seconds longer than usual.
“You take care, darlin’.”
“Always, Dallas. Goodnight.”
Dean took her hand and helped her down the stairs. When they got to his place, she sighed. She had come to really like it here; it was comfortable and familiar and she felt all her stress just drain away the second she walked in the door.
An escape, for damn sure.
“Come here, angel.” He held his arms open and she walked right in to them. “You OK?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think? Shower and bed?”
“Sounds great.” Despite her exhaustion, her body was warming up under his hands. His hands were stroking life in to her tired muscles and she felt a burst of energy that surprised her.
He lifted her chin and kissed her, a gentle kiss. His lust was still boiling away, but it was overshadowed by his worry for her. “You OK to be with me tonight, honey? You look like you need a sleep.”
“I’m more than OK to be with you tonight. Can we take it easy at first, though?”
“Yeah.” He stroked her hair. “We’ll take it slow.”
**
The next morning at 6:05, Dean and Dallas were both on their front porches holding a cup of coffee. They nodded their good mornings, then Dallas decided to broach the subject of Emma.
“You know, man,” Dallas said. “I’m a big fan of Olivia Jameson’s ass, but I’m starting to think that she must actually be a grade-A bitch. I mean, the way she’s working Emma is nothing short of slave labor. Does the woman even get any sleep when she’s traveling with Olivia?”
Dean shook his head. “She doesn’t seem to. I’ve asked her, and she won’t say one word about it. All she ever tells me is that it was busy and she barely ate or slept.” He sighed. “She always comes back looking wiped out. I know she’s anemic, and so she really goes down fast when she doesn’t take care of herself.”
“She’s anemic?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Well, that actually explains a lot.” Dallas took a sip of coffee. “But she still deserves better from her employer.”
“It’s not my business,” Dean said. “It’s not my place to say one word about it. We don’t have that kind of thing.”
Dallas huffed impatiently. “Seriously? Come on, man. You know that what you two have going on is not just sex.”
“But it is.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t even have her phone number.”
That gave Dallas pause. “What? Really?”
“Yeah. And she hasn’t got mine. We set up a day and time for her to come over and we get in to bed. The end.”
Dallas looked over at Dean and wondered just how much longer his friend was going to keep up this charade. To be fair, though, Emma was equally pig-headed: she refused to share anything much from her life with Dean, refused to stay more than one night at a time, refused to even tell him her last name. They were both sticking rigidly to the letter of the law in terms of their agreement, but they totally failed to see that they were breaking its spirit every second they were together.
Dallas didn’t know the last time he’d seen Dean so happy with a woman… probably never. The way he looked at Emma, man. His eyes softened and he smiled a private little smile. Endearments spilled out of his mouth and he didn’t even seem to realize it; he touched her tenderly, took care of her. She meant something to Dean, and no matter how many times he told the guys she was a casual thing, Emma wasn’t.
What was her story, though? Dallas had spent time watching and listening to her when she wasn’t traveling and came around three times a week or so, and the girl was still a puzzle. Total fucking mystery.
She was smart, obviously; Dallas was actually surprised that she was a PA charged with making hotel reservations for a spoiled model. He’d have thought that Emma would be in something way more professional. She was kind, too: the way she talked to Jim was nothing short of a miracle. The man was a wreck in so many ways – wracked with guilt and self-loathing about what had happened to that kid – and she somehow managed to get him to relax and open up. Nobody could get him to do that except Dean, Chris, and Dallas.
But what made Dallas warm to her the most was the way she was with Dean. Affectionate and gentle, she looked at him like he was the only man in the room, the only man she saw in her presence. It was clear as day that he was special to her; he meant something. Her insistence to treat Dean as not much more than a walking dick was ridiculous, and Dallas wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his mouth shut about it.
It’s not your business, man. They’ll come around. I hope.
Dallas shrugged. “OK, whatever you say. If that’s the end, that’s the end. So, what are you up to today?”
“I have the morning off, then I go to work. You?”
Dallas sighed. “I have that guy from Atlanta coming in to town tonight, and he wants to go out clubbing.”
“On a Wednesday?”
“I know, right? But he needs protection, so it’ll probably be an all-nighter at bars and strip clubs, watching his back.”
Dean grinned. “You know you love the strip clubs, man.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I’d also love a night in. Too many all-nighters lately, Dean. I may start to assign myself just day gigs soon enough, leave the clubbing shit to my younger guys.”
“Well,” Dean said. “That’s the perk of being the boss, right? We get to control the work schedule?”
“True enough.” Dallas stood and stretched. “Anyway, I have some errands to run then I need to get back to bed for a few hours. Have to be alert tonight.”
“Yeah, OK. See you later.”
Dean went back in the house and walked down to the bedroom. Emma was still sleeping and he climbed back in to bed carefully, trying not to disturb her. She looked better already; her cheeks had a bit of color and the darkness under her eyes had lessened. It seemed that all she had needed was a good night’s sleep… and some mind-blowing sex, of course.
He hardened as he remembered the night before. They had started slow, as Dean had promised, but things had heated and sped
up rapidly. Within a few minutes of showering together, they were both naked in the bed, Emma pinned under him, Dean plunging inside her soaked centre, his hand between their bodies and rubbing her clit. She had come fast and hard, and then almost immediately fallen asleep in his arms. Dean had held her to him, stroking her gorgeous hair, until he had crashed himself.
Now she stirred a bit and he touched her cheek. Those eyes fluttered open, almost purple in the half-light, and when she saw him, she smiled. He pulled her close and she buried her head in his chest, her fingers curled around his t-shirt, holding on to him. She closed her eyes again and dropped off again, her breathing deep and steady. He stared down at her, so trusting and calm; she hadn’t even thought twice about cuddling up to him, even in her hazy state of half-awareness.
Dean shut his eyes too, wondering if he could maybe get some more rest. With Emma, he slept better than he had in years. The nightmares had backed off, the guilt had receded. They were both still there, just below the surface, he knew; they would never leave him fully, but they were leaving him in peace. For now.
Chapter Seven
Emma jumped when her doorbell chimed. She glanced at the clock on her laptop screen, wondering who would be at her door at eight o’clock on a Monday morning. Not that the day or time made any major difference to her at this point. She had finally capitulated to the reality of her illness – bouts of sickness from the chemo, dizziness and exhaustion increasingly hitting her out of nowhere, even at Dean’s – and was now on an extended leave-of-absence from work. The whole idea of a ‘work day’ was a bit ludicrous, but still. Eight o’clock on a Monday was early for almost everyone else on the planet, wasn’t it?
“Who is it?” she asked through the door.
“It’s Nigel, sweet thing, and I come bearing gifts.”
She swung the door open, delighted. “Nigel!”
“Hey, Emma. Liv sent me.”
“Of course she did.” Emma stood to one side. “Come on in.”
He came in, loaded down with shopping bags and juggling a take-away coffee. She took the coffee and two of the bags and he sighed with relief.
“I thought that latté was going to go flying, doll, I kid you not. What a waste of foam, you know?”
She laughed and hugged him close.
He held her, shocked at how much weight she had lost in just a few weeks. He took a step back, stared at her face. She was still stunning, no doubt about it, but she was starting to look gaunt and tired.
Fucking, fucking cancer.
“OK, sweet thing. Sit down and brace yourself. I have goodies, let me tell you.”
She sat on her sofa, thrilled to see him. Nigel Ramirez was hands-down the coolest, funniest man she had ever met. His fashion sense made her gag with envy and he loved to gossip and giggle with her, especially about men. He was Liv’s PA and did his job with flair and ease; he loved handling her schedule and Liv trusted the man with her entire life. He even knew her internet passwords, her bank account information, the code to her home security system. He was like an extension of Liv’s body, and the girls all adored him.
“What did you bring me?” she asked. “What? What?”
“OK, you ready for this?”
“Yeah.”
He reached in to a shopping bag and produced a dress that took her breath away. It was flowy and loose, but had underlying structure. The colors were bright and warm, and she ran her hand over it. The material was soft, comfortable.
He was watching her. “Liv said that some materials irritate your skin lately… I thought this would be gentle enough?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s weird, but my body actually really hurts sometimes, so bad that I can’t stand to be touched. Even cotton is painful.”
“Well, this should be OK. You’ll try it, right?”
“It’ll be perfect, Nigel. Thank you.”
“OK. I also brought you some gorgeous jewelry from Liv’s last photo shoot, and a few pairs of sexy sandals. Nice, huh?” He hesitated. “One last thing, Emma… but I’m a bit worried I’ll upset you.”
“What is it?”
Nigel reached down in to the last bag and pulled out a handful of scarfs. They were delicate and feminine but her breath stopped when she realized what he was thinking.
“For – for when my hair falls out. Right?”
“Yes.” He looked at her anxiously. “Have I overstepped, doll? If I have, just say so.”
“No.” Her voice seemed to be coming from very far away and she shook her head a bit. So far, she had managed to avoid thinking about that side-effect of the chemo too much. She knew that when she started to lose her hair, she’d end it with Dean, since she would have no way at all to hide from him what was happening. “No, you’re right to think about this. I don’t have any, and these are amazing. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Nigel fought back tears, smiled brightly. “So! What’s this about you bedding a sexy soldier covered in tattoos?”
“Oh, God.” Emma groaned. “Liv told you?”
“Of course she did! Jesus, doll. She knows how much I adore a man in uniform – and I like them even better out of it.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Tell all. The more salacious the details, the better.”
“Not much to tell, I’m afraid. I just see him when I feel well enough, you know. Around the chemo and the spells of exhaustion. And it’s just sex, really.”
Nigel’s dark eyes sparkled. “My favorite kind of arrangement, sweet thing. Liv speculates that Dean is as hot as hell and that the man has a body that just won’t quit. Is she right? Please tell me that she is…”
She giggled. “Liv’s right.”
“Oh, thank God.” He sighed. “You just enjoy that for as long as you can.”
“I will. And actually, speaking of hot men – don’t you have a new boyfriend?”
“I do, indeed.”
“Abe, right?”
“Yeah.” He made a face. “Terrible name, huh? The man is simply not an Abraham, and I have no idea what that would even look like, to be honest. But my Abe is just sex on legs, I promise you. Built like a goddamn line-backer and with stamina to kill for.”
She laughed.
“Maybe you’ll meet him? We’re having a party at my place this Saturday night… can you make it?”
Her stomach tightened. “Hard to say, Nigel. I’ll try, OK?’
“Oh.” He studied her silently. “Chemo this week?”
“Yeah. I start another round tomorrow and I don’t expect to resurface until Thursday or Friday. I may not be OK for the weekend. But if I am, I promise to be there. Alright?”
“OK, doll.” He held her hand. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Toes, too.”
**
Dean squinted down at the tiny rose tattoo he was inking, trying to keep the detailing as delicate as possible. The girl was jumping around, though, making it a challenge, to say the least.
“Hey,” she said. “It hurts.”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “I warned you about that, remember? You wanted it right on the breastbone – not much flesh or muscle to absorb the impact of the needle. But I’m almost done, OK? Maybe you need a break?”
“Yeah, for sure.” She sat up, her low-slung jeans cupping her curved ass, her generous breasts squeezed in to a black lace bra. Every guy in the place was checking her out and damned if she didn’t love it. Dean had offered her a light blanket to cover herself, but she had refused. She was obviously the kind of girl who liked to have it all hang out.
Dean leaned back. “So you OK?”
“Uh-huh.” Her light blue eyes were gazing at him. “You own this place, right?”
“Yep.”
“You do any of your own tattoos?”
“No. Mine have all been done by other people.”
She reached out to trace one of his
tattoos with a forefinger. He was so surprised that he didn’t even move away at first. “I like this one,” she said, running her fingers over the number ‘75’ on his Ranger’s tattoo. “You were a Ranger for real?”
He jerked back. “Yeah. For real.”
“No shit.” She smiled, slow and sexy. “That’s hot.”
“Yeah? You think so?”
“Oh, yeah.” She took in his shoulders and chest, admired his muscled arms. “So, when you finish with this tattoo, maybe you want to go for a drink? It’s almost closing time, right?”
He saw Jim staring across the room at him. The man knew full well and good that this was exactly the kind of offer that Dean never refused. She was blonde and busty and practically had her legs open right there on the table – and he had never been less interested in a quick fuck in the whole of his life.
“Thanks,” Dean said. “But I’m afraid I can’t tonight. Busy.”
“How long will you be busy?” she said. “I’ll be in Shooter’s until late. Maybe when you’ve stopped being busy, you can drop by?”
Dean shook his head. “Sorry, I won’t make it.” He gestured at the half-done tattoo. “You ready to finish up?”
She pouted a bit and lay down again. Dean caught Jim rolling his eyes and he scowled over at him. Dean didn’t know if it was at the girl’s blatant come-on or Dean’s blatant refusal, but Dean didn’t care either way. He was in a lousy fucking mood.
He hadn’t seen Emma at all that week. She was traveling for work again and wouldn’t be back until after the weekend, she’d said. But even before she had headed off to Las Vegas, she’d been amazingly busy and had only stayed over at his place once the week before.
Dean got the feeling that she was starting to slow things down, pull back a bit. He didn’t like it; he minded a lot that she was maybe going to have the end-it-all conversation with him. Yeah, he had agreed to those terms, but still. He was beginning to be sorry that she’d just be able to walk out of his life and he wouldn’t be able to even offer a token argument or resistance.
He focused on the tattoo, wanting only to shift this chick off his table and out the door. He would go home and watch TV and go to bed early, missing Emma the whole fucking time. And that’s when he finally admitted to what had been staring him in the face for weeks now.
Enemy Within (Unseen Enemy Book 1) Page 8
