Chapter 9
Abby tried to toss and turn, all snug in Noah’s bed, but the thing was too damn hard.
It wouldn’t surprise her if the mattress was made of blocks of wood.
What was wrong with him? She curled on her side again, her ribs aching now that she wasn’t aroused beyond belief.
A pounding on the outside door drew her upright. Oh God. Had Monte found her?
She slid from the bed and padded into the spacious living room, tiptoeing toward the door. If he was on the other side, she’d need to get a knife from the kitchen. Her palms grew sweaty, and her knees started to wobble.
The pounding increased and jarred the entire wall. “Abs? Let us in. It’s Raine.”
Oh. Thank goodness. She rushed forward and unlocked the door, opening it wide. Then her heart stopped.
Noah leaned heavily on Raine, blood matted across his face, his clothes burned and still smoking. He smiled. “Got blown up.” The smell of bourbon came off him like he’d bathed in it.
Raine grimaced and hauled him inside, pushing him onto the sofa. “Had to give him a few drinks to help while he, ah, healed a little bit.” He leaned over to look at the deep purple bruise covering Noah’s left temple. “Well, it was more like a few bottles, I guess.”
Abby’s breath heated as she forced down panic. “We have to get him to a hospital. Do you have a phone?”
“Don’t need a hospital,” Noah slurred, smiling through cracked lips. “I’ll be okay in a little while.” He frowned, making the bruises across his forehead jumble into one large ugly mass. “Hey. You’re only wearing a shirt. My shirt. Go away, Raine.”
This wasn’t good. Not at all. “He needs a doctor,” Abby said urgently. “Please let me use your phone.” Why the hell didn’t she have a phone? Oh yeah. No money.
“No.” Noah grasped her hand and drew her toward him.
His knuckles were bruised and cut. “I just need a shower and some care.” He tilted his head to see Raine.
“We walked into a trap, and that’s on you.
” When Abby tried to pull away, he tugged her closer until she landed on his smoking lap. “Get it fixed.”
“I will.” Raine backed toward the door, taking out his phone and reading the face. “I’ll have a location to you by late tomorrow, no matter what. I owe you.” He disappeared quickly outside.
Abby’s stomach rolled over. “How were you blown up?” She wanted to help Noah, but she wasn’t a doctor. Not even close.
“A lot of grenades,” he mumbled, shoving to his feet and swaying.
She jumped up and settled her shoulder beneath his arm. “Please let me take you to the emergency room.”
“Nah. A shower will suffice,” he slurred, stumbling around the sofa toward the master bedroom and bath, pulling her along easily. He smelled like burned cotton and blood. “Wanna help?”
“Yes,” she muttered, trying to help him along.
If she saw one open wound or broken bone, she was stealing his phone and calling an ambulance.
Period. They reached the palatial bathroom, and he stood calmly while she removed his clothing, wincing at each bruise and cut.
After she’d gotten him undressed, she had to admit his injuries weren’t as bad as she’d expected from his clothing.
She tried, she really did, not to look lower than his waist.
She failed.
Holy crap on a cracker, Wonder Woman. The guy was seriously endowed. Gifted. One of the chosen. Heat flushed into her face and she looked up to see a goofy smile on his. She frowned. “Are you concussed?”
“Yep. And seriously drunk.” He reached inside the glass-walled shower and started the water. “I’ll need help.” Without waiting for an answer, he dragged her under the already steamy spray.
She yelped and backed away, shoving wet hair out of her eyes.
Seriously. He reached for her shirt and she slapped his hand, taking it off herself.
“Would you please just stand there for a minute?” she snapped, looking at the raw bruises across his chest and over his shoulders.
“How did you get blown up?” Just where the heck had he been?
“Weeeelll.” He ducked his head beneath the spray, and grime and blood flowed off his hard body to the drain. “I’m after this guy, and he set us up, and then he tried to blow us up. It’s pretty simple, really.”
Guy. “What guy?”
“Man. You’re nagging already,” he complained, soaping up his body and not seeming to mind the painful-looking bruises.
Nagging? “Whatever.” She started to back away.
“Oh, no.” He drew her near, now smelling of soap and male. His gaze was intense, although his smile was a little lopsided. “We never got to finish what we started.”
“You’re drunk,” she said, even as desire began to burn through her again. The play of muscle beneath his smooth skin —everywhere—was a temptation no sane girl could ignore. Even so, she didn’t want to take advantage of him. “And concussed.”
“You are a little blurry,” he admitted, pulling her square into his spectacular body.
They both groaned at the contact. “That’s better.
I can almost see you now.” He sobered. “Everything hurts, Abs. How about you make it all feel better?” Amusement curved his lips, and he tried to give her a puppy dog expression, but he looked more like a Doberman about to eat a steak. “Please?”
He was terrible. Sexy and smart and sweet...and how could she refuse?
He grinned. “You’re not scared. Here and naked with me—totally alone—and you’re not frightened. That has to tell you something.”
She gently caressed his damaged chest and down his ribs, looking for broken bones.
Okay. Copping a feel, too. He’d spoken the truth.
She was experiencing a lot of emotions, most of them erotic, and not one of them was fear.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she admitted, leaning up and kissing the greenish-yellow bruises beneath his jaw line.
It was like they were already healing somehow.
“But I don’t want to take advantage of you. ”
He swayed and caught himself with one battered hand against the glass. “Feel free. Just take some of the pain away.”
She levered up and slid her mouth against his. “I can do that.” She’d have to be careful of his injuries. “Are you sure you have no broken bones?”
“Not anymore,” he slurred.
“I meant from tonight.” She licked along his collarbone before dropping back to her flat feet.
“Nope.” The light from the ceiling high above reflected oddly in his eyes, giving the black a greenish tint.
He dropped his head, his mouth hard against hers.
“God, you taste good. So good, Abs.” Then he delved deeper, keeping his balance with a hand on the wall.
The other hand speared through her hair and tugged her head back.
He kissed her, his body flush against hers, making her forget reality for a moment. Dark and demanding sensations, ones she’d never felt before, slid through her, softening her muscles and making her ache. All rationality disappeared.
Her body took over, beyond her mind, in a way that had never happened.
She tried to hold on to thought, but it disappeared, caught up in an impossible onslaught of passion.
Fear grasped her, of the unknown, and she made a sound against his mouth.
One of warning. He softened the kiss, his hands sliding down her wet front, those bruised fingers tweaking her nipples.
Then he smoothed the small bite, showing her the drugging pleasure to be found from a simple touch.
Steam swirled around them, cocooning them in an intimate dance. There was only Noah Siosal and right here and right now. Her body and his and a craving so sharp it hurt. “Now, Noah,” she murmured, reaching for him and running her hand along his hard length.
He settled his stance as if trying to keep his balance. “I, um, should tell you something.”
“Later. I’m on the pill.” She paused, marveling at his size. “Unless...is there something I should be worried about? Do we need a condom?”
He frowned and his eyes seemed to take a moment to focus. “No. I can’t get diseases. Am totally clean.”
“Me, too.” Though a condom was a good idea. “Do you have condoms?”
“No. Don’t need them,” he rumbled. “Can’t wear them.” He kissed her again. “We don’t have to.”
Her body was on fire, and even the small hint of steam against her sensitized skin was killing her. She was on the pill, and oddly enough, she trusted him. If her life was about to explode, she wanted another moment with him to keep her warm in the future. “I want to.”
“Okay.” He fell back and sat on the wide wooden bench, bringing her with him.
She straddled him, lifting up. There was no way.
His grin took her fear away. “We’ll go slow.” His face didn’t look as purple with the steam swirling around. He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly helped her take him in.
She gasped, and her abs rolled. He was too big.
But she was wet and ready and needy. It was exhilarating to be on top of a man this, well, male .
Nothing was going to stop her this time.
It took forever, and he let her set the pace.
Several times she paused to let her body accept him.
He brushed a thumb against her clit, once and again, every time she needed a moment.
The feeling shot electricity through her, and she pushed down more, still scanning his body for injuries.
Finally, her butt rested against his thighs.
She dropped her head to his chest, feeling too full.
Way too full. “You’re too big.” Yet she wanted him to move.
“You’re perfect.” He grabbed her butt and gently lifted her, pulling her back down as he plunged up.
Ecstasy rippled through her. Her head dropped back. “More. Faster.” Using her knees, she lifted up and then back down, guided by his strong hands on her hips. He held her with a fierce grip. Even if she wanted to get free, she couldn’t, and that thought sent more hunger through her.
She lifted her head, wanting to see him. A raw, possessive expression covered the angled planes of his face, along with a hunger he did nothing to hide. He lifted her and rammed back in. “More,” she whispered.
As if her words unleashed a part of him he’d held back, he snapped, hammering into her, lifting her up and yanking her down, the friction unbelievable.
Pleasure swamped her with a strength that forced her to close her eyes.
The first orgasm slammed into her out of nowhere, hitting her dead center and making her cry out his name as she rippled around his cock.
He didn’t so much as pause.
She rode the waves, settled, and then started climbing again.
Her fingers clawed his chest, and she forgot all about his bruises.
He drove harder inside her, hitting that spot that only he had ever found.
Sparks flashed in front of her eyes, and she closed them, whimpering from the devastating need.
Close. She was so close to the next pinnacle. She climbed higher and broke with a sharp gasp, her internal walls gripping him with a fierceness that was edged with a hint of pain.
His hand twisted in her hair and pulled her head to the side. Pain slashed into her neck at the same time agony rippled along her right hip and buttock. Then the pain abated.
She came down with a wild shudder, her eyes opening. She turned her head. “Noah?”
He was still fully imbedded in her. “Abby,” he murmured, blinking rapidly.
Then he passed out, his body going limp against the tiles.
She stilled. What the heck? Oh, crap. She’d just had the best sex of her life, and then he’d passed out.
How bad was his concussion? She had to get him to a hospital.
He was still inside her, for Pete’s sake.
Lifting up with her knees on the bench, she levered up to release him.
She scrambled to the side, and he slid off the bench and landed on the wet tiles with a loud thud.
Damn it. She rushed for the faucet handle and twisted it off. He fell to the side, his head thunking against a wall tile. She yelped and ducked to grab his head and guide him all the way down before he hurt himself more.
He opened his eyes. “Abs?”
“You’re okay. Let’s get you to a doctor.” Thank God. He was awake. A hysterical laugh nearly escaped her. “Your head is worse than we thought.” Ducking her shoulder, she tried to lift him. “I need your help.”
He grabbed the bench and lurched to his feet. “I’m fine. Just need sleep.”
“No—”
He threw one bruised arm over her shoulders and limped out of the shower and propelled her straight into the bedroom and to the bed.
“A couple of hours, Abby. That’s all.” He slid beneath the covers and pulled her with him, spooning her and wrapping both arms around her.
A second later, he was snoring in her ear.
She blinked. She couldn’t move. Her body felt all sorts of aches and pains, and her neck really hurt. Had he actually bitten her? His warmth drew her under, and her eyelids slowly closed. Maybe just a few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt. If he stopped snoring, then she’d call an ambulance.
Wait a minute. Why did her hip and butt burn like she’d been branded? With that one odd thought, she fell into a light sleep.