Chapter 5
Maybe it was because his senses were on high alert. Or because every sound in the unfamiliar house made him snap open his eyes and listen for an intruder.
He was bullshitting himself. The real reason he couldn’t sleep was the same reason he couldn’t piss in a straight stream—because his dick was too hard. Desiree. Sleeping soundless in the room fifteen feet away from him.
How the hell had he gotten here?
She was amazing in bed. Probably the best he’d ever had.
Tight, slick, her body fitting to his like she was designed by God just for him.
His muscles bunched at the memory of her raspy breaths in his ear.
Of the pinch of her fingernails digging into his skin.
Of her knees hiked high against his sides.
Holy hell.
He reached down and adjusted his cock. He needed a release more than he needed sleep, but he wasn’t going to whack off on her couch like a weirdo.
The bitch of the whole thing was she didn’t want anything to do with him. What kind of lame line had she given him at her shop? That she didn’t like men and it was a small town?
Okay, so she was a business owner and he could understand her concern about getting a bad rap. But he wasn’t going to brag about sleeping with her. Heck, he hadn’t done that since high school and even then, it’d only been to Wes.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
He wouldn’t drive himself crazy with this.
If she didn’t want to continue seeing him, fine.
He’d respect that. Only here he was, sleeping on her fucking couch because she was being harassed.
Which sure as shit wasn’t part of his job description.
Oh, no. He was here because he’d been pussy-whipped or some shit and had no shred of dignity left.
A low, exasperated groan left his mouth. There was no room to protect his man card. Not when Dez was being attacked. For now, he’d just have to hang close and find the lowlife scum who was messing with her.
Tomorrow, he’d talk to her more. Maybe there was something she wasn’t telling him. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the comforting smell of cinnamon sugar that clung to the couch cushion.
Clank
Aiden jerked into a sitting position, popping open his eyes. On autopilot, he grabbed the gun from under his pillow. He swept his gaze around the living room, the feminine décor reminding him that he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
He’d slept at Dez’s.
On her couch and not in her bed where he should be.
“Sorry.” Dez’s squeaky apology came from the kitchen. “I tried to be quiet. Thought we’d need some coffee.”
He tossed off the blanket and swung his feet to the floor, facing her.
“Don’t mention it. I’m a light sleeper. And you’re right.
” Boy, was she ever. A thick fog clouded his brain, likely a result of the short and less-than-deep sleep.
He rested the gun on the arm of the couch and stood in nothing more than his black briefs.
Getting down to his knickers at the house of a woman he was protecting wasn’t his style, but he’d been hot as hell—probably due to his untapped dick—and wasn’t used to sleeping in clothes.
Dez froze in the kitchen, her wide eyes glued to his torso. She blinked, a mug in each hand, and her gaze moved to hover over his swollen member contained in cotton.
He picked up his shorts, and she spun around so her back faced him. The dishes clinked together and the coffee maker started to drizzle. “Uh, how do you like your coffee?”
He strode up behind her. The same cute little shorts she’d worn last night hugged her perfectly happy ass. Instead of the tank top, she had on an oversized gray sweatshirt that only made her look cute and cozy and did nothing to wipe the memory of her curves from his mind, if that was her intent.
“Hot,” he said, his tone flat.
She whirled around. He stood a few feet from her, but the O shape to her lips told him he’d startled her.
Her throat bobbed, and she lifted her fingers to toy with a gold necklace at her throat. “It’s fresh.”
He grinned. God she was sexy, even more so when she was ruffled. Her curly dark hair was tied on top of her head in a bun, and her lips were stained a deep pink. Freckles dusted her rosy cheeks, and the yellow tint in her hazel eyes was prominent.
Her gaze stayed locked on his face, not dipping once to take in his bare chest.
“Is one of those mine?” he said, nodding at the mugs on the counter.
She shifted her gaze to her side. “Whichever—”
He reached around, bringing himself into her orbit. The scent of cinnamon clung to her skin, making him want to sink his teeth into her as if she were an indulgent breakfast pastry. Fuck, he needed to calm down.
He snatched up one of the mugs and reached for the pot.
She stepped out of his way and bustled to the fridge. “I can whip up some eggs if you’re hungry. I also have fruit and toast.”
He filled his mug and added a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk. She stood with the fridge door open, her face turned over her shoulder, waiting for his reply.
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“It’s the least I can do. You came here for nothing, and—”
“Nothing?” He pulled the lip of the mug away from his mouth before even taking a sip. “Someone broke in here last night.”
She shut the fridge door and twisted her hands in front of her middle. “Yeah, but you were right anyway. I shouldn’t have stayed here. Had I taken your advice we both could have slept well.”
He stalked forward and stopped in front of her, putting his mug on the counter near her side. She sucked in a breath and her stance turned rigid.
“You didn’t sleep?” Concern made the question blurt from his throat. If his being here had made her uncomfortable, then she was right and it had all been for nothing. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him or think he’d come onto her.
Yet here he was half naked, not even respecting her home.
He dragged a hand through his hair. He needed a shower. He needed to clear his head. He needed space from Dez’s fretful eyes and smokin’ body before he did something he couldn’t take back.
She tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong?”
Hell, he shouldn’t even talk until his boner was gone. He rolled his tongue behind his teeth, carefully choosing his words. “I didn’t mean to make you uneasy by staying here. I should have just taken you to a motel.” He shifted his gaze to the cream-colored tile at his feet.
Her cool palm touched his forearm and squeezed. “You didn’t make me uneasy. Not at all. I have my own demons that kept me awake.”
He brought his hand to his jaw and rubbed his fingers over the stubble. He needed to shave as badly as he needed to get clean. “What kind of demons?”
She flicked her gaze away then moved it to him. “Nothing.”
He locked his eyes on hers. “Do you have an enemy, Desiree? Someone you’re not telling me about?”
Defiance sparked in her gaze, making him wonder if he was onto something. “No one who would—”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
She lifted her arms and then dropped them, an annoyed sigh huffing from her nostrils. “I wouldn’t say he’s an enemy.”
She turned away but he caught her wrist, towing her back to her spot. “Who?”
There he went doing something he couldn’t take back—touching her.
She propped her hand on her hip. “I’ve just dated assholes. That’s all. No one recent even.”
“They hurt you?”
She lifted a shoulder. “One guy, Brandon, cheated on me. He lied to my face and I found out through one of my friends who saw him with the other woman.”
“Where is he now?”
“Moved to California three years ago,” she said flicking her wrist. “He’s married with two kids now.”
“And the other guy?”
Angst lined her forehead. “I feel like this is an inquisition.”
He fought the urge to scrub his palm over his face. Putting her on the spot wasn’t his goal, but Jesus, he needed to know this stuff. “I’m just trying to help.”
Her face softened. “Just a guy I saw when I was out of high school.” She lowered her gaze. “He made me his booty call and I was dumb enough to think if I slept with him, he’d want to be with me.”
Anger fizzled through him. If he could go back and knock out the pricks in her past, he’d do it in a heart beat. “Some assholes are like that.”
She lifted a delicate shoulder. “I know.”
“All right. Anyone else?”
“Like I said, no one that would—”
“Dez.” Her name came out on a growl.
“My mom’s ex-boyfriend, okay? He got out of jail last week and wanted me to pick him up in Denver. I refused. He was angry that I didn’t want to see him, but he’s calmed down.”
“When did he call last?”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, tucking the corner of her mouth into her cheek. “I don’t know, like five days ago.”
“What was he in jail for?”
She lifted her hand to the crook of her neck.
“I need coffee first.” Sidling past him, she went for the empty mug by the coffee maker, fixed her elixir, and then turned, pressing her back to the counter.
She circled the mug with both hands and blew on the liquid.
Taking a sip, she closed her eyes and then opened them again.
“My mom dated Ray on and off for eight years. He’s an alcoholic who’s tried to get sober more times than I can count over the years. My mom stood by him, supporting him time and again after he went back to his old ways.”
Aiden kept quiet, watching her closely. His mug waited for him next to Dez, but if he got back into her space again, he might not leave it, and he didn’t want her to stop talking.
One thing he’d learned over the years was that the perp was almost always connected to the person they tormented.
“What landed him in jail?”
She made a face. “He stole a car—my mom’s, actually, and she reported it. Then he drove intoxicated into a bank.”
Aiden raised his eyebrows. He’d expected battery, as was sometimes the case when alcohol was involved. “How much time did he get?”
“Not even a year. But he’d been too drunk to try to steal anything, so that probably helped his case.”
“Are he and your mom—”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. Thank god my mom realized what she was putting herself through. But he still contacts her . . . and me.”
“Why does he contact you?”
She shrugged, her gaze focused on a spot near his feet.
“Because he has this irrational belief that I’ll help him get back into her good graces.
He wanted me to pick him up from jail so he could apologize to me for upsetting my mom, pay me back some money he owes me—which is a joke because he doesn’t have any—and of course try to schmooze and beg his way into me bridging them together. ”
He snorted. “Sounds like he doesn’t know you very well.”
She wrinkled her nose, humor pinching her brows together. “And you do?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I know you told me to fuck off with lipstick on my counter because I gave you a good lay.”
“I did not tell you to f—”
“And I know you’re a forgiving person because despite that lipstick message I’m standing in your kitchen right now. I know you’re a little judgy—”
She slammed the mug onto the counter. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m not judgy.”
He couldn’t hide his amusement. His interest was sparked. He’d kick his own ass later, but right now he couldn’t resist the urge to rile her.
“But I did give you a good lay?”
Her cheeks flamed red and she balanced her hands on her hips. “I can’t really remember.”
“Bullshit.”
She lifted a shoulder, and a mischievous smile played on her lips. “I remember you were quick.”
He crossed the kitchen and caught her elbows in his grip. “Hey, don’t be spreading lies. I know for a fact I didn’t come until after I got you off twice. And if you have a hard time remembering, I’ll show you right now.”
Well, he’d definitely crossed the point of no return.
An impish glint sparked in her eyes. She patted his chest, her cool palm icing his flaming pec. “I was only kidding. But, a one-night stand doesn’t mean you know me well. Regardless, Ray is an asshat, and a short-tempered drunk, but he’s not one to stalk and torment.”
Dez’s body stood inches from his. So close he could lean forward and taste her tongue if he wanted—if she’d let him. Her nipples poked against the material of her sweater, the sight scrambling his brains almost as much as his words.
Why the hell couldn’t he get her out of his head? He shouldn’t be so tortured by her proximity, taunted by the memory of her body. He shouldn’t be pulsing for her to just fucking kiss him.
Her long, dark lashes fluttered as she lowered her gaze to where her palm rested. Curling her fingers away, she took a step back. “Raymond Lester isn’t our guy.”
She picked up her coffee mug and went to the dinette table. Completely unaffected by the arcing of desire from every pore in his body. Aiden inhaled a deep breath through his nose. He’d get Dez out of his head once he found out who was after her.
He’d bet a full twenty-four hours in bed with Dez that Ray was their guy. But that wasn’t a wager he’d risk losing.