Текст книги "Sweet Seduction"

Автор книги: Maya Banks

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 27

Nathan looked down at the three women sprawled on the floor and tried like hell to suppress his grin.

He squatted down next to Julie. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"There can't be that many gorgeous bald-headed guys running around Cattleman's, can there?"

He lost the battle with his twitching mouth and chuckled. "Had a little too much to drink?"

"Hi, Nathan," Faith said, holding her fingers up and waggling them.

"Hey, sweetness, is Serena conscious over there?"

Serena let out a sound that he couldn't quite decipher. It didn't exactly sound human.

He turned his attention back to Julie. "So how were you girls planning to get home anyway?"

"Cab."

"Ah. Well, I have a better idea."

He pulled out his cell phone, still chuckling. He got up and moved a few feet away as he punched in Gray's number.

"You're out late," Gray said as he answered the phone.

"So is your wife."

"Yeah, girls' night out. How did you know?"

"Well, I'm staring at her, Julie and Serena lying flat on the floor of Cattleman's," Nathan said with a chuckle.

"What? What the hell?"

"Relax, man, she's fine. They're drunk as skunks and having a good time as far as I can tell. They said they were catching a cab back to Damon's, but I didn't feel comfortable letting them pour themselves into a cab as drunk as they are. Thought you might want to come get Faith."

"Damn right. Thanks, man. Last thing I want is some joker to see three easy marks. What the hell was Damon thinking? I thought he was at least sending his mountain of a driver slash security guard."

"I'll let you call him to collect Serena."

"What about Julie?"

"I'll take care of Julie," Nathan said softly. He'd been waiting for his chance to pin down the little escape artist.

"Do you mind hanging out until I get there?" Gray asked.

"Of course not. I'm not going anywhere. I'll hang out, keep an eye on them until you and Damon show."

"I'll be right over."

Nathan hung up and walked back over to where the girls hadn't moved.

"You ratted us out, didn't you?" Serena said accusingly.

He winced as he squatted back down to their level. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I did just that. Guy's code and all that. When your girl's in trouble, you expect your buddy to call. Just looking out for three very special women. I don't want y'all climbing into some strange cab or have some stranger take advantage of you."

"Aw, that's sweet," Faith slurred.

"Yeah, kinda hard to be mad when he says shit like that," Julie mumbled.

He tweaked Julie softly on the nose. "You three sure are cute when you throw a drunk. But next time do it at home. If you don't want the guys around, banish them for the evening."

"Yes, big brother," Serena snorted.

"You, I'll let get away with that crack," he said. "You, however, better not ever even think of me in that capacity," he said to Julie as he touched her cheek.

She grinned. "I think we've already established that there is nothing fraternal about our relationship."

Nathan hid his triumph. At least they were getting somewhere. She might be drunk, but at least she'd acknowledged something was going on between them.

"So, uhm, who's coming to get us?" Faith piped up.

"That would be me, the husband," Gray said from behind Nathan.

Nathan stood up to see Gray standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, a wide grin across his face.

"You didn’t use to be that big, did you?" Faith squeaked as she looked up at her husband.

He squatted down as Nathan had done and smiled at her. "Better?"

Faith scrunched up her nose. "Are you here to take me home?

I can't be the first to go home. Would be embarrassing. Like I'm an old married lady or something."

Gray chuckled. "But you're my old married lady, and I'd like to have my old married lady in bed with me. It's sorta lonely without you."

Nathan watched in amusement as Faith melted into a gooey puddle on the floor.

"Oh, that's nice," Serena sighed.

"Want help up?" Gray asked as he ran a hand over Faith's shoulder.

"I'm worried," she muttered.

"About what, baby?"

"If I become upright, I might puke."

Nathan chuckled and Gray's shoulders shook.

"Tell you what. I'll lift and get you back onto the bar stool." He glanced up at the bartender who waved a large plastic basin from behind the bar. "If you need to puke, there's a nice big puke bowl on the bar."

"Ugh," Faith moaned. "Like I want to puke in front of everyone?"

"Oh shut up, Faith," Julie muttered. "Like you haven't held my hair up enough times."

"Up you go," Gray said as he pulled Faith to a sitting position.

He let her sit there for a moment as he brushed her hair from her face. "Okay so far?"

She nodded and he helped her to her feet. She weaved precariously on her way to the stool, but Gray kept a firm grip on her arm.

She sank onto the stool with a sigh. Then she stared at the bartender. "Hey, I know you. You're Drew." Then she glanced around the empty bar with a bewildered expression on her face. "Hey, where is everyone?"

"Baby, it's three in the morning. They're all home, which is where you should be."

"Three?" Serena squeaked. "Sam is going to kill me."

"Sam and not Damon?" Julie asked.

"Sam is a little protective. He's already mad because I wouldn't let him drive us around."

Ah, so that solved the mystery of why they had taken a cab. Nathan shook his head. What the hell had they been thinking?

"And you should have let him," Nathan said. "Three young women alone, three young drunk women alone, is never a good idea."

"I need to go to the bathroom," Julie announced.

"Uh-oh, you need to puke?" Nathan asked in alarm.

"No, pee."

His cheeks warmed but he reached down to help her up all the same. Damn she felt good, all limber and cuddly against him. Like a kitten after a full bowl of milk. Hell, all she had to do was stretch and purr.

She made it one step in the direction of the bathroom and listed heavily to the right.

"Oops!" Then she turned an accusing eye to Drew who was wiping down the counters. "What was in that last drink?"

Drew's mouth twitched. "Straight juice, doll. Orange juice."

Well, at least the bartender had the sense to know they'd had enough. Nathan shot him a look of gratitude before tucking Julie solidly under his arm.

"Come on, honey, I'm taking you to the bathroom."

He walked her to the ladies' room and went inside with her. Not like they'd have to worry about running into anyone since Carl had closed the bar an hour ago.

He pushed open a stall for her. "Can you make it from here?"

"Uh, yeah."

She wobbled into the stall and shut it behind her. She fumbled with the latch for a few moments, and he stepped back to wait.

There was a long silence and then, "Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Turn the faucet on please."

"Huh?"

"Turn the faucet on. I don't want you to hear me pee."

Holding his laughter in, he shook his head and went over to turn the water on. Then, to make her feel better, he hit the button so the blower on the hand dryer came on.

It had just quit when the stall door opened again and she stepped out. He waited while she washed her hands, and then once again he tucked her under his arm and headed back. She seemed to have regained her bearings, but he liked holding her. Any excuse to touch her, he was going to take full advantage of.

When they got back to the others, Damon had arrived and had Serena on a bar stool, stroking her silky black hair. To most men, seeing the utter domestication of a friend might instill panic, or even disgust. For Nathan, watching the two men with their women filled him with an odd longing.

He'd never been opposed to love and commitment; he just hadn't ever found a woman that made him start thinking about it. Now when he looked at the two couples, the way they communicated silently with just a touch or a look, it made him feel almost lonely.

He looked down at Julie, and his grip tightened around her waist. If he could ever get her to stay still and in one place long enough, he'd show her just what it was he wanted from her.

His brow furrowed just a bit at the last. What did he want from her? From the beginning it hadn't just been about sex, though Lord knows he'd lusted after her to the point of insanity. He was perplexed by his reaction to her. She befuddled him. Kept him solidly off balance.

Was this how other guys felt when they met their woman?

"You have to go first, Serena," Faith said with a wave of her hand.

"Ah yes, so you don't look like an old married lady," Serena said dryly.

"Come on, Serena mine," Damon said with a chuckle. "Sam is beside himself with worry."

She looked at Damon then looked doubtfully at the floor. "Has the floor moved?"

Damon reached for her, pulling her down into his arms. He kissed the top of her head before tucking his arm around her waist. "Come on, love."

"G'night," Serena called with a backward wave of her hand.

Gray turned to Faith. "Now can we go?"

Julie frowned. "Would someone call the cab for me?"

Nathan scowled. Did she really think he was going to leave her here alone? "I'm not calling you a damn cab. I'm taking you home."

"Oh."

Content that she didn't offer any argument, he turned her toward the door and waved at Carl with a mouthed "thank you."

Carl grinned and offered a two-finger salute as he threw a towel over his shoulder.

Nathan opened the passenger door of his truck and hoisted her Julie into the seat. When she just sat there, he pulled the seat belt and reached over to buckle it for her.

"How do you do that?" she asked in bewildered tone.

"Do what, honey?"

"Pick me up like that. Like I don't weigh any more than a child."

He chuckled. "A little five foot nothing like you? Piece of cake."

She turned and locked gazes with him, her eyes shining a little brighter. "You honestly don't notice those extra pounds I'm carrying, do you? I love that about you."

Nathan was reminded of the conversation he'd had with Connor in the truck before Julie's accident. The idea that she was somehow not perfect baffled him.

He leaned in until their mouths were just an inch apart. "What I notice is that you're an incredibly sexy, mouthwateringly beautiful woman. In a word, you're fucking perfect."

She blinked as he drew away, her lips slightly parted as she stared at him with a dazed expression. "Wow."

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. The ride was quiet, and he periodically looked over to make sure she hadn't passed out, but she seemed wide-awake, her gaze focused out the windshield.

A while later, he pulled into her apartment complex. As he went around to get her out, he experienced a wave of deja vu. Unlike the last time he'd brought her home, this time he wasn't leaving. She'd obviously been left with the idea that he wasn't that interested, and he'd be damned if they went through all that again.

Wanting to impress her again, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the door. She sighed a happy little sound and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Where are your keys, honey?"

"Pocket," she mumbled.

He allowed her to slide down his body until her feet hit the ground and then he reached into her jeans pocket to pull out the keys.

A few minutes later they were inside, keys placed on her kitchen table. Nathan carried her to her bedroom.

The first time he'd brought her home, he'd undressed her as quickly as possible, feeling like a guilty voyeur the entire time. This time he was going to savor every moment.

"Nathan?"

They stood at the foot of her bed, and she looked up at him, her expression so trusting.

"Yes, honey?"

"You're about to see me naked, aren't you."

"Uh-huh."

"Do I get to see you naked?"

He chuckled. "You've already seen me naked, you little tease."

"You look good naked," she said with a sigh.

"So do you," he said huskily.

He reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head. She raised her arms in cooperation. Every part of his body started humming when the pink lacy bra came into view. Her breasts were thrust forward and straining against the cups, the darker peach of the aureoles playing an erotic game of peekaboo.

He was so going to hell for lusting over a drunk woman, but at the moment he couldn't see a downside in that.

When the shirt fell to the floor, he reached for the button of her jeans, loving the feel of her soft belly against his knuckles. He popped the fly and peeled the denim over her hips only to find the thinnest, silkiest pair of underwear that exactly matched the frothy confection that was her bra.

As he worked his hands over her ass to push the pants further down, he discovered that the panties were a thong.

Ah hell. He closed his eyes and shook his head, sure that instead of hell, he'd be assured sainthood if he survived this without throwing her on the bed and burying himself inside her.

Deciding there was no way he'd be able to make it if she slept naked beside him the entire night, he acted quickly and stripped off his T-shirt. He dropped it over her head and pulled her arms through the holes, satisfied when it fell below her hips. There. Almost completely covered.

He kicked off his shoes and hastily stripped down to his underwear, ignoring the way his damn dick was about to bust a hole in the material.

"Come on, honey, let's get you into bed."

She docilely let him lead her around the side of the bed and urge her onto the mattress. She crawled under the covers and laid her head on the pillow, closing her eyes immediately.

Well hell he thought ruefully. Passed out already. But when he climbed in beside her, gingerly easing the covers over his body, she turned into him, curling up like a contented kitten seeking warmth.

A massive wave of satisfaction rocked him. This . . . this was nice. Julie in his arms, sweet and warm, her soft breaths easing over his neck.

Careful not to disturb her, he wrapped on arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. He gently maneuvered his other arm underneath her neck so that she was cradled against his shoulder.

"Good night, Julie," he whispered against her ear.

She responded by snuggling a little closer and inserting her leg between his. Content to wrap himself completely around her, he slid his leg over her hip so that there wasn't a part of her not touching him.

He blew one silky strand of hair from his mouth and then kissed the area right above her ear.

Yeah, this was nice.

Chapter 28

Angelina Moyano watched from a distance as Micah stood over the two headstones in the small graveyard. She peeked from behind a large oak tree, her small hands gripping the rough bark. It was always like this. At dawn he'd come to honor their memories. Just as he did every year.

The sun's rays were barely peeking over the horizon, but the Florida humidity was already thick and heavy, each breath a struggle in the cloying heat. She chanced a look over her shoulder, damning her paranoia that she'd been followed, but she couldn't afford to take chances. Seeing nothing, she turned her attention back to Micah.

He knelt at Hannah's grave and carefully laid a single yellow rose, her favorite, just below the marble slab that marked her death. He kissed his thumb and ridge of his forefinger then laid his hand over the flat ground.

Angelina sucked in her breath. It was different this year.

Before he'd always stood there looking so haunted, his eyes filled with grief and regret. This year ... this year he seemed to be saying good-bye.

Her eyes filled with tears when he turned to David's grave and drew a simple rosary from his pocket. He kissed the beads and then laid them at her brother's headstone.

Sadness knotted her throat. She missed them too. She missed Micah, but he was as lost to her as David and Hannah. Maybe now he was ready. Ready to let go. He had grieved long enough. She had grieved long enough.

He rose, shoving his hands into his pockets. For a long moment he simply stood there as the early morning light grew a little brighter.

Warmth flooded the little place where Micah stood, and Angelina took it as a sign that it was time.

"I love you," she whispered, letting the wind carry her words away.

When he finally turned and walked back toward his truck, she waited only long enough so that she wouldn't be seen before she darted back to her car. She would have to hurry if she was going to get to Twilight before he did.

It was where he always went after he paid his homage to his former wife and to David, his best friend. Only Angelina understood the need that drove him. Only she understood his pain, knew his private demons. She would help him because she could do nothing else. She'd loved him far too long. Maybe now he could finally love her in return.

She took the shortest route to the club and whipped into the back parking lot ten minutes later. Though it operated twenty-four hours a day, at this time of the morning it was usually empty, and she knew that was one of the reasons Micah always chose this time to come.

Grabbing her bag, she hurried inside the employee entrance and checked with Rose who manned the front door.

"I'm here, Rose. Just give me a minute to change. If he gets here, put him in room one."

"Hey, Angel baby. I see him walking up now, so scoot on back so he doesn't see you."

"Thanks, Mama Rose." She blew a kiss to the older woman and ran for the dressing room.

She didn't go for garish dress-up. No leather, no high-heeled boots. No, save the mask that protected her identity, she went with black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her long, dark hair was drawn into a braid and tucked down her shirt. She was as nondescript as they came.

The last item was the leather mask that covered her from the neck up. Only her eyes were visible, and they blended with the dark leather, dark, almost black.

David would have killed her if he were alive. He and Hannah would both be horrified that David's little sister was for all practical purposes a surrogate daughter to a woman who owned one of Miami's most successful bondage clubs.

Micah would look at her with those dark eyes and ask her what the hell a little girl like her was doing in a place like this.

And it was all because of him.

A soft knock at her door had her whirling around as Mama Rose stuck her head in.

"He's ready for you, sweetie."

Angelina nodded and walked out the door and down the hall to one of the flogging rooms. When she entered, she sucked in her breath so hard her chest hurt.

Her reaction to him never dimmed. The sight of such a powerful, proud man standing in the middle of the room, bared to the waist, his hands high above him, tied to a spreader. He was utterly magnificent.

On another man, his pose might seem submissive. Weak. Only she knew better. Underneath the seemingly calm surface was a man who seethed with emotion. Dark and boiling. And she would call it to the surface.

His head rose when he heard her footsteps. There was a vulnerability to his eyes she hadn't seen in the past. Like the emotion bubbled that much closer to the surface. Before he'd buried it, only releasing it with his pain.

Not everyone would understand his needs. But she did. Oh how she did. She would set him free. She would give him what he needed.

"I need . . . Don't go easy," he said in a low voice.

She nodded her acceptance of his request. She alone understood his need for this kind of pain. They were more alike than he would ever know.

She uncoiled the whip and let the end fall to the floor as she circled behind him. Such beauty. His back was broad, his waist lean and narrow. The muscles coiled and bunched between his shoulder blades as he readied himself for her strike.

How long she had practiced, relentlessly perfecting her method, so she would never disappoint him. He was safe in her hands.

The first lash landed against his skin with a deafening crack.

He jerked but quickly righted himself and went still, waiting the next. She flicked her wrist again, exerting just the right amount of force, and placed an identical stripe across from the first.

She forced herself to relax, to not allow the welling emotion to bubble up. Calmly and methodically she kissed his back with the lash, watching as he jumped and bowed under the whip.

Sweat glistened on his back, dampened his hair until it fell in limp curls past his neck. Still she continued, sensing he needed more. She striped one side then the other, working a path down to his waist.

As she worked her way back up, blood beaded and shone in the low light. Finally. Release. Lightly, like a lover's kiss, she whispered the whip across his shoulders until they were slick with blood.

It was like making a cut in a festering wound. The relief was profound as pressure—and pain—escaped the seething cauldron. His hands clenched in their bonds, his wrists flexing as he raised his head, looking upward as if he was seeking redemption.

With every stroke, she lavished him with her love. It was bizarre to someone who didn't understand. An unacceptable outlet for many. But this was his way. She accepted it as she did him.

A heavy sigh escaped him, the only sound he made the entire time. His shoulders drooped and she knew it was enough. She let the whip fall and walked around to face him.

His eyes were closed, but his cheeks were streaked with tears. Her own eyes clouded with moisture. He'd never cried for them. Not at the funeral. Not at the graves. Not afterward when he'd driven her home. And then he'd simply disappeared, dealing with his grief as he did everything else. Alone.

She ached to hold him, to tell him it was all right, that Hannah and David loved him too. That she loved him. That he didn't have to be alone any longer.

Instead she stepped forward and cupped his face lovingly in her hands. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and whispered in a husky voice he'd never recognize, "Vaya enpaz"

Go in peace.

He looked up at her as she stepped away with glazed, unfocused eyes. Another tear slipped down his cheek, marking a raw trail on his face.

"Thank you," he said in a husky voice.

She simply nodded, knowing that even if she dared, she wouldn't have been able to speak around the knot in her throat. She kissed the shaft of the whip and laid it carefully at his feet.

She left the room on shaky legs, knowing Mama Rose waited to free Micah and to attend to him in whatever way necessary. She also knew he'd refuse the older woman's attentions and would be gone within minutes.

She shed her mask, for the last time. It was all she could do not to run back down the hall and throw her arms around him, beg him to take her with him. Letting him go instilled her with a fierce ache. Because this time he wouldn't be back. With that realization, she knew that it was now or never for her. She'd given Micah the time he needed to heal. Now it was up to her to go after him. Show him it was okay to love again.

He might not be coming back to Miami, but there was nothing to stop her from going to Houston. She had to go. She couldn't stay here. It wasn't safe, and Micah was all she had to run to.