Chapter Fifteen #3
“You’re really tired, aren’t you? Do you want to go to bed and get some rest? I can handle the meeting without you if you prefer.”
Resting was the last thing she wanted to do in bed tonight. She coughed and cleared her throat. “I, uh—no, thanks. I’d like to find out what’s happening with the investigation.”
He gave her a questioning look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She swore in Spanish. “Can we get on with this?”
He grinned and sat back against the couch, facing the TV. “She’s fine. Collier, this is your meeting. You want to start?”
Sierra scooted a little closer to Beau, smiling at his questioning look as if she didn’t know why he’d glanced at her. He nodded at something one of the officers was saying. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, then closed them to help relieve the burn. She really was tired.
The couch suddenly dipped, and some kind of cloth brushed lightly against her face. She swatted it away and opened her eyes. Except, she wasn’t on the couch, she was on a bed. And Beau was holding the edge of the comforter, apparently trying to tuck her in.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Sorry about the comforter. It slipped from my grip as I lowered you to the bed. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. I’ll update you on things in the morning.”
He stepped back and started to turn around.
“Wait.” She sat up and grabbed his hand. “I fell asleep?”
“About five seconds after you closed your eyes in the meeting. You didn’t miss much. We don’t have any good leads yet on your brother. Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She was in bed. Beau was here with her. Sleep? Heck no. She was wide awake now and ready to test her theory, to work him out of her system.
He tugged his hand to leave.
She tightened her grip.
“Sierra, is something wrong?”
“I just, uh…” She wiggled her toes. “You took off my shoes?”
“I did. Before you get outraged, that’s all I took off. I didn’t figure you’d want your shoes on in bed. Now, if you’ll just let my hand go, I’ll leave you—”
“Don’t go.” She threw the covers off and rose to her knees, taking his other hand and pulling him toward her. “Stay. Here. With me. It’s a big bed. And I don’t snore. Wait, do you snore?”
He chuckled. “Not that I’ve ever been told. I appreciate the offer of the bed, but the couch is quite comfortable. You don’t have to share.”
“I want to. Share.” She stared up into his dark eyes, the dim light from the hallway just enough to highlight the masculine angles of his handsome face. “Everything. I want to share me.”
His eyes widened. He slowly shook his head. “I think you must still be half-asleep, Sierra. I’m Beau Dawson. Police officer. Remember?”
“And I’m Sierra Covington, law-abiding daughter of a less-than-straight-and-narrow man, according to the FBI. If you can look past that, I can look past you being a cop.”
He smiled. “Good to know. But, uh, even though I’m flattered by your…offer, I don’t think this is the right time to—”
“Now is the perfect time.” She tightened her hold on his hands and yanked as hard as she could.
Caught off guard, he tumbled forward, catching himself with his elbows to keep from crushing her. But the lower part of his body was plastered against her.
She wiggled beneath him.
He groaned.
“Don’t try to deny what’s incredibly, impressively obvious. You want me.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t take it personally. My body always reacts this way when a sleepy, gorgeous nymph offers everything and pulls me down on top of her.”
“This happens a lot to you?” she teased.
“All the time. It’s embarrassing, really. Always having to fight off beautiful women throwing themselves at me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. Like I said, don’t take it personally. We both need our sleep, and I really, really don’t think that you’d want this if you were completely wide awake. You’ll thank me in the morning.” He rolled off her to the other side of the mattress.
Before he could get up, she pounced, straddling his hips and holding onto his shirt with a tight grip.
He grabbed her hands to stop her.
“Ouch,” she said, pretending that he’d hurt her.
He immediately let go. “Sorry, did I—” His eyes narrowed. “You little minx. I didn’t actually hurt you, did I? Let go of my shirt.”
“Beau, please, wait. I want—”
He lifted her off him and set her down on the bed, then jumped to his feet.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll talk tomorrow. About the case, about this—I don’t know—whatever is going on between us. People in forced proximity can think they’re attracted to each other when, in the normal day-to-day world, that might never happen between them.”
He headed for the door.
Sierra sat up again, wiping at the danged wetness running down her cheeks. “What is the real world, Beau? Is it yours? Or mine?”
He stopped, his arms gripping both sides of the doorframe, his back to her. Without turning around, he said, “Maybe a mixture of both.” His voice was quiet, strained.
She closed her eyes and wiped at the humiliating tears.
The bed dipped.
Her eyes flew open to see Beau sitting beside her, his gaze searching hers. “Why are you crying?”
“Oh, heck if I know. I hate crying. I’m just…
It’s too much, you know? Everything going on.
And this stupid attraction for you. It’s like…
lava, in my veins. Every single time we get close I burn.
And it’s not just tonight. It’s not because I was tired and fell asleep on the couch.
It’s every dang minute since I saw your sweaty, incredible body chopping wood at your cabin.
I knew you were a policeman then, and I still wanted you.
I’ve wanted you ever since. And I thought, tonight, that maybe, just maybe, if we made love that would get you out of my system, you know?
It’s danged inconvenient feeling this way.
Like you said, different worlds. I just wanted to—”
“Get me out of your system?”
“Exactly. I assure you the way I’m feeling isn’t that forced proximity thing you mentioned. And I’m sure not sleepy. Not anymore. I know exactly what I’m doing.” She wiped at her cheeks again. “?Ay, caramba!”
“Here. Let me.” He took the edge of his shirt and gently dried her tears. “Better?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Sí. Gracias.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on. I’m embarrassed enough throwing myself at a man who doesn’t want me. Not with his mind anyway, even if his body has other ideas.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You really are something.”
“So I’ve been told. Go.”
He gently ran a finger down the side of her face. “I’ll go. If that’s what you want.”
She grew still. “And if it’s not what I want?”
“You’re wide awake?”
“Yes.”
“You really want to work me out of your system?”
“Boy, do I.”
He laughed. “Not the most flattering reaction I’ve ever heard.” His smile faded, and his expression turned serious, tense. “But it’s better than I ever hoped to get from one of the most interesting, smart and fascinating women I’ve ever met.”
He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.
It wasn’t a soft, questioning kiss. It wasn’t tender or hesitant in any way.
It was ravenous, consuming and so hot she was whimpering with pleasure and practically climbing him to get closer.
When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, hearts racing, staring at each other in wonder.
“Wow,” she breathed.
He grinned.
“I hope you’re ready for a long night,” she whispered. “I think it might take quite a while to work through this inconvenient attraction of ours.”
“Sadly, kissing is all we can do. It didn’t occur to me to bring protection on this trip.”
“I noticed there was a, um, box in the top drawer of the nightstand. The cabin owner must have left it there.”
He blinked. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
He leaned past her and got the box. A moment later, he pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re sure you want this?”
“I need this. I need you, Beau. Please. Love me.”
“Whatever the beautiful lady wants.” He pulled her in for another steamy kiss and pressed her back against the mattress.
A long time later, she woke up in his arms, blinking up at the dimly lit ceiling.
Beau Dawson was the stuff of dreams. He’d satisfied her in ways she’d never thought possible, and yet, here she was, burning for him all over again.
She drummed her short nails on the mattress.
Tried counting sheep. Recited the alphabet both forward and backward in her mind, trying not to feel this way.
It was no use.
“Beau?” she whispered. “Are you awake?” She lightly pressed his shoulder. “Beau? Are you sleeping?”
“Not anymore,” he grumbled.
“It didn’t work.”
He chuckled. “I beg to disagree. It worked quite well. Twice.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He turned on his side facing her in all his glory. “Still feeling attracted to a washed-up former police chief?”
“Unfortunately.”
“We need some sleep if we’re going to function in the morning.”
“Then, make it quick. Hurry.”
He was laughing as he covered her body with his.