by Zoe Dawson
“I thought this was a mistake,” she whispered. “Me here.”
“It is. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you here…or want more. I’d be a huge freaking liar.”
“By more, do you mean…sex?”
He couldn’t really deny it and evade that question. Honesty was better. “Yes, Sky. I’m talking about sex.”
To his surprise, she didn’t pull away; her gaze just got more direct, and she said, “That’s not a surprise to me. The scientific findings are that men think about sex more than women do. Men have more intrusive thoughts, too—it’s harder for them to ignore thoughts about sex.” Then she closed her eyes as if she couldn’t quite believe she’d just said that.
Well, there was some truth in that clinical description, but it also gave him a bit of insight into the woman in his arms. Inexperienced came to mind or…maybe even a virgin? Did she talk about sex in clinical terms as a way to keep it clinical? Was it about avoidance? If she was avoiding it or not receptive to his advances, he could understand that. But that wasn’t the case. She was wrapped around him right now. She melted into him each and every time he’d kissed her. So that wasn’t in question. What was in question was should he pursue this when it was such a bad idea.
He still wanted her.
I’m going to go take a shower.” He went into the bathroom, slammed the door and leaned against it, giving himself a few moments to get himself under control. Being professional and smart was getting harder and harder. She was an enticing woman and he was finding it increasingly more difficult to keep his hands off her—his hands, his mouth, every part of his body. He pushed away from the door and ran the water. He was okay to shower with the bandages on. That wasn’t going to be an issue. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor. Using one hand to push off his boxer briefs, he kicked them away. He stepped into the shower, trying to ignore the pain. His shoulder joint was tight from keeping it immobile and the wound stiff and sore, hurting like a bitch. He should have taken some more painkillers.
He was crazy to make himself crazy over this woman. She didn’t understand, just like Brittany didn’t understand. Of course, Brittany was all about lifestyle and status. He didn’t believe that’s what motivated Sky. Her guard was in place and would probably be even harder to crack. After trauma, people tended to withdraw into themselves.
He washed himself awkwardly with one hand. After he stepped out of the shower, he realized that it was going to be hard to wipe his back and set the towel around his waist.
To top it off, he hadn’t brought any clothes in here with him. He groaned softly at his lack of forethought. She really scrambled his brain. He didn’t want to ask her for help, but at this point, he didn't really have a choice. Better to ask than cause his wound to start to bleed again or ruin her careful stitching.
He walked to the door and cracked it a little, and the sounds of rain and gongs filtered through the opening. She was on the floor bent into a pretzel, staring at the bathroom door. She looked away quickly.
“Sky?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“I need your help.”
“To change your bandage?”
“Um…no, a little more than that.” He sounded distressed and looked even more annoyed.
“What then?” she said, her voice concerned. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t dry off very well, and I can’t really get the towel around my waist.”
She unbent herself and sat there for a second or two letting his words sink in. Had he just said he was wet and naked, and he needed her to help him? Her eyes widened and she swallowed. She hadn’t seen a naked man. Not really. And, to top it off, Vin was…well, he was irresistible. She was having a very hard time keeping her thoughts on why she shouldn't get involved with him. He intrigued her and it was hard to focus when she was talking to him. How the heck was she supposed to function while he was stark naked?
She wanted to know all about him—something that was foreign to her. She dismissed people, deliberately didn’t ask questions or try to find out too much. She didn’t have time for friendships or relationships.
But she wanted him to understand her, which surprised the heck out of her. Deep down, she wanted that. That someone special to get her, even all her nerdy quirks. It would open her up, this sharing of herself, but she felt compelled to take a chance and reveal more of herself to him.
“Sky? It’s not brain surgery. I’m just a naked guy.” Now he was exasperated.
“But I’ve never seen a naked man,” she blurted out and then covered her face. “Oh, shit.” She felt the heat from her blush score her face. The “act” had happened so fast, and it had been so strained and awkward, the guy had gotten dressed in the dark and left quickly. It had been mortifying. Now she had another mortifying incident to go right with it. “Could I be any nerdier?”
“Probably,” he said.
She moaned softly. Gah, she’d said that out loud.
“Look, I’ll turn my back,” he said, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers over her. It was hard enough yesterday to see him without his shirt. She had gotten all flustered, especially when she saw that he realized it. When she didn’t move, he said with a sigh, “I’ll manage.”
“No. I’ll do it.” She got up off the floor and approached the bathroom door, her stomach twisting with anxiety and something that made her tingle all over.
He kept the door cracked and handed out a towel to her. “When I open the door, just quickly wrap it and tuck it in front. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, her lungs feeling compressed.
She was ready. It was a simple, easy task—a monkey could do it. But when he opened the door, Sky froze. The magnificence of him struck her dumb. His dark hair was wet and plastered to the back of his strong neck, and her eyes took over with a mind of their own. Her gaze moved from the back of his neck to his oh-so-broad and heavily muscled shoulders and triceps. Thick, solid shoulders that did the trick when a girl needed one to cry on. His upper back was rippled with muscle, ropey and solid down either side of his spine. His lower back was as smooth as his magnificent backside.
“Sky?” he said, his voice strangled.
He’d turned his head and was looking at her over his shoulder. Staring at her. But her eyes had no intention of jerking up to his face. Instead, they decided to take a second look. She leisurely slid her gaze back up until, with a start, they climbed over the stubble coating his handsome face. When she met his eyes, they were hot, very green, and scared her in a really good way, making her stomach clench. Desire. That’s what she saw there. Hard, intense desire.
“Sky,” he said again, a little sharper.
She stepped forward after snapping out of her brain freeze and wrapped the towel around his waist. Oh, God, his skin was so hot, soft and moist, his waist rock hard. She had to lean into his amazing ass to get the towel properly tucked. Moving up against him was the only way. He sucked in a breath and stood very still. She pressed her face into his back. Damn, he smelled so good, so clean and male. She’d had no idea that men could be such a feast for the senses.
It took a couple of tries for her to get it done, her hands rubbing up against that ridged abdomen she couldn’t see, but damn did she ever want to.
She wanted to see all of him.
Even after she’d tucked the towel, neither one of them moved. She wanted to kiss all that wet skin beneath her cheek, press her lips there and take them on a joy ride over all that muscle.
“I’m drowning here,” he confessed, his voice a rough, suppressed kind of growl. “I want you to touch me.”
He was real, flesh and blood, not some sculpture, and she’d been so forward, sliding her hands over him, even if it had been in the name of lending a hand. He could have both of them all over his body. Yeah, she was a freaking Good Samaritan.
“But…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wanted to glide along his body and get a good view of h
is front. If the front of him looked as good as the back…whoa.
He was gorgeous, not just his face with his rather elegant nose, chiseled cheekbones and that mouth, which she so wanted to kiss again and again. He’d put himself in the line of fire. He took care of her. He’d taken bullets for her. He was dedicated to protecting her, and he had the kind of wit she needed in a man. The kind that could challenge her.
She wanted to touch him, nuzzle his neck, lick his skin—get into him, get on to him—and she was at a loss in knowing how to make that happen, or in judging how dangerous giving in to those desires might be.
“But what?” she whispered.
“It’s a step into madness,” he said. “I’m not sure we’re compatible. I don’t want to take advantage of the situation. It’s definitely not professional.”
She was taken aback. “You want to get to know me better?”
“Is that a crime?” he managed.
“I guess I thought you were like any other man when presented with a willing woman. Take what you want.”
“Make no mistake. I want you. That’s not the issue. But we’re under a traumatic situation here. I’ve saved your life and am the only thing that stands between you and a bunch of determined, brutal Russians who are willing to kill to get you back. Let’s just…not do this right now. I don’t even know if you’ve ever been…intimate.”
She took a breath and nodded against his skin. “Yes, I have, but it was so miserable and uncomfortable and so embarrassing.”
“It won’t be with me. I promise you that. If you’re with me.”
“What if I want you, too?” That admission made her skin heat and sizzle with the heightened tension that poured off his too close, tantalizing body.
He swore softly under his breath. “I’m not willing to take that step right now. I don’t want you to rush into anything, then maybe regret it.”
He had good points, but right now she couldn’t seem to care. There was no maybe about wanting him. She wouldn’t regret it. She knew all about pheromones, hormones and chemistry. She knew all the scientific terms and all the science behind it. But Vin made her want to experience something more than science. She wanted the magic—something she’d denied herself for so long. Then she came to her senses, realizing that she was compromising her vow, getting lost in the physical sensations and the emotional attachment she was developing for this man.
She stepped back, and Vin breathed a sigh. Her hands shook, and she grabbed a towel to keep them from trembling. She drew the terry over his back, finding that she couldn’t seem to help her movements, as they were slow and deliberate caresses. She felt terribly guilty for wanting what she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She knelt down and dried his calves, shins and feet, before rising and walking around to face him.
When she met his glittering eyes, a soft, deep flash of heat exploded under her skin and washed through her entire body. She reached up with the towel and dried off his face and jaw, being gentle around his cuts. Then his strong throat where his pulse beat just as erratically as hers.
It was a small consolation that he was as affected as she was.
“Bend down and I’ll towel dry your hair.”
He did as she asked, and she ruffled his hair until she got the majority of the water out of it.
When he straightened, his hair a tousled mess around his face, she dragged the towel down his chest, soaking up the rivulets of water that slid over his pectoral muscles. When she touched his stomach, trailing the terry over those ridged muscles, he sucked in a breath.
“I want to kiss you,” he said very softly. “Just kiss you.”
“Do you dare?” she countered, her eyes roving over his face.
“No,” he said. “Not right now.”
That made her smile, and she was sure it went all the way to her eyes because his mouth curved up. He reached out and ran his hands through her hair, then brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek.
“I suppose it doesn’t help that I want you to kiss me?”
“No,” he said. “Not right now.”
She laughed. She didn’t think she’d laughed this much in forever. There was one more quality about him that simply melted her heart. He made her laugh.
“I don’t know how to resist.”
He shook his head, settling some of the spikes into place. “I guess it’s up to me.” He smiled and her heart dissolved into goo.
“That isn't helping, mister.”
He closed his eyes and took a breath. Easing away from her, he sat down on the commode.
She sighed, just a bit disappointed at his formidable control. “Are we going to dance around this subject then?”
“I'm trying to stay sane here. Bandage time.”
“Oh, all right,” she said, sighing.
She hung the towel over the rack and grabbed the med kit. Pulling out surgical scissors, she cut away the sodden bandage wrapped around his chest. Then pulled away the gauze pads. The bullet wound was red and ragged, but her stitches were pretty good, considering she wasn’t a MD.
Then it struck her hard. They were still in danger. It hadn’t felt so, being in his arms while she slept and then laughing with him, then pissing him off. But he could still get seriously hurt or even killed. Her stomach lurched so hard she covered it with her hand.
“Are you going to get sick?”
“No,” she said. “I’m fine.”
But he looked skeptical.
She was scared. She’d be a fool to get attached to him, open her heart to him, because he could break it into a thousand pieces, and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to survive that. He was the closest she’d come to having a friend—a romantic partner—ever. She kept people at a distance, but the circumstances of their situation made it impossible not to feel, care. She had never sought love. It hurt. A lot. She still missed her father and mother. They’d left a gaping hole in her heart.
Of course, in her cynical, scientific, totally logical mind, love was easily avoided. She might have to refine or rethink that hypothesis.
She was a creator; she built and constructed. Her whole life had been about using her talents to the fullest. She’d promised. Guilt assaulted her again. She’d promised her mother and father. Could she be falling for a man who was a force of destruction, had already destroyed to keep her safe?
Even as she stood there, grabbing gauze pads so that he wouldn’t see her turmoil, she wanted to just throw all her worries, cautions, hang-ups to the wind and take her chances at just a taste of life before those kidnappers came back and tried to take away her choices and her freedom, maybe even her life.
And could she say that she had even lived?
After gently cleaning the wound, she repeated the bandaging process that she’d used last night, securing the edges with tape.
He watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, and she noticed how the towel tented over his genitals. Genitals. Really? she thought. She hoped to God she never said that out loud.
Without really thinking about what she was doing, she leaned down, placing her hands on either side of him and bracing them against the tank. She had no earthly idea how to seduce a man. But from her experience, they responded so well to stimulus and she so wanted to put her mouth on him. She was about to put it into practice and experiment. She’d never been so eager for research.
He did nothing, just continued to look at her with those burning hot eyes. Maybe he was convinced that she didn’t have it in her. That spurred her on. She moved closer.
“Sky,” he said softly, and she got what she wanted, that strangled sound, his voice a hard rasp. Her hair flowed forward, over her shoulders, hitting his chest like the spill of black ink. He reached out with his good arm and bunched the silky strands in his hand.
But he didn’t drag her forward. The steam from his shower and the heady smell of his clean skin made her feel dizzy. Tension, thick in the air, ratcheted up as he parted his sensual lips. She groaned
softly, brushing hers along his. Her tongue came out, and she licked them, took his bottom lip into her mouth and sucked. Then she bit him, ever so lightly. Then harder.
He groaned, “Sky.” Only this time, his chest heaved, and his breathing increased. All good biological signs that she was making headway. Experimentation had never been this fun, this good. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging ever so slightly against her scalp. She leaned into his lips harder, pressed her mouth more fully against him.
His hand still in her hair, he cupped the back of her neck, his mouth going ravenous, devouring her.
His hand abruptly slid down as he released her hair and snaked around her waist. He dragged her against him until she was straddling his lap. Against the heated strength of his chest, she braced herself on his powerful thighs. The hard, hot length of him burned through the terry cloth and her flimsy shorts, his erection fitting between her legs and pressing hard against her wet center. She pulled her mouth away, both of them breathing hard.
She traced his lips with her fingers, and he rested his head back against the wall. She rubbed her face against his stubble, her fingers still on his mouth.
She leaned forward and kissed his neck, ran her mouth down, then up his throat, tasting the male tang of him against her tingling tongue. She scored him with her teeth, down and back up, sucking on the pulse point at his throat.
His sexy lifeblood thrumming in her mouth, the life of him beat in rhythm with her own heart.
He twisted his head, thrusting his hips up against her core, and it was her turn to groan. Her hips moved, sensually, wildly, and so naturally, she was floored by how good it felt.
She trailed her hand down his chest, over those muscles her eyes had caressed. This was so much better. He was like tempered steel beneath her hand. She ran her palm over his skin, just taking in the sensation of not only touching him but turning him on. She rubbed over his hard nipple and got fascinated with his reaction when she went over it again, making it bead up even more. Dipping her head, she flicked her tongue over him. He sucked in a breath and jerked his hips.
