“Talk about safe.”
He choked out a laugh. “You think my life is safe?”
“Maybe not physically, no. But emotionally? Yes. Yes, I do.” She paused, watching him touch a finger to his own palm and wince. Rising, she took his hand between hers. “You got poked by a quill.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, but it will be.” With no idea what was coming over her, she pressed her lips to the rough calluses of his palm.
He went very still. “What was that for?”
“To make it better.” She lifted her head, closed the space between them and kissed one corner of his mouth.
“And that?” he asked, his voice lower now, and husky.
“Same.” She kissed the other side of his mouth. “Is it working?”
“Getting there.” He slid his arms around her, hauled her in tight against him and took over, kissing her long and wet and deep, and by the time he lifted his head, she was shaken to the core.
“And now?” she managed.
“Much better.” He was reaching for her again just as a thump sounded above them.
“What was that?” she asked.
He was already moving up the stairs. “Stay here.”
She and Lucky followed him, so close on his heels that she nearly plowed into the back of him when he stopped short in the center of the loft. Her hands slid up his back for balance, encountering warm skin, smooth, sleek muscle.
“Shit,” Brady said.
“I’m sorry, I-” She yanked her fingers back, but he shook his head. “The damn dog.”
Peering around his broad shoulder, she caught sight of Twinkles devouring the trash and having a good old time while he was at it.
At Lilah’s feet, Lucky whined. She wanted some trash, too.
“He’s already eaten more than his own weight today,” Brady said in disgust. “Nice job on the staying put thing, by the way.”
“Me or him?” she asked.
“Both.”
Lilah ignored the bad temper in his voice and went to her knees to hug Twinkles close. “Oh, you are one very bad little boy.”
“Yes, and you can spank me later,” Brady grumbled. “When are you going to admit you’ve had your fun and take him to the kennels?”
“Aw. A big, tough guy like you, afraid of one teeny tiny dog.” She set Twinkles on the blanket on the floor, which he’d clearly been using as a bed. Lucky joined him. They sniffed each other’s hind ends and settled together.
“That’s not one teeny tiny dog,” Brady said, staring at Twinkles. “That’s the devil in disguise. And besides, I’m way more afraid of you.”
She smiled. “You are not.”
“Terrified. You’d better hold me.”
She burst out laughing at that, and gave him a shove instead, her hands against his hard chest.
Damn, he felt good.
He shook his head when she continued to grin at him. She couldn’t help it, she couldn’t stop.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He shook his head. “With you, Lilah, it’s always something.”
Yeah, actually. It was. “You were right before. I’m restless and no one else in town is able to help me.”
“No?”
“No.” Stepping into him, she kissed him. She kissed him like she meant business, and by the time she pulled back, neither of them were breathing so steadily. “I hope you’re ready for this,” she said, because she’d consulted with the part of her brain in charge of making rash and stupid decisions, and it’d been unanimous.
“Lilah-”
“Shh,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be gentle.”
Nine
B rady didn’t say anything, but his eyes were aroused and darkened with something else as well. He took Twinkles from Lilah’s arms and set him on his blanket in front of the fireplace. He snapped his fingers and Lucky joined Twinkles, the two of them sitting perfectly still and at rest, ready for their next order.
“You’re good,” she said, and turned to the bed, where if the tossed bedding was any indication, Brady had been restlessly sleeping, if at all.
“And you’re drowning in these sweats,” he said, coming up behind her. “You must be hot.”
Yes. Yes, she was.
Hot.
God, so hot.
She’d been sleeping in just a lacy tank and matching panties, but when Lucky had gotten hurt, she’d thrown on an old pair of sweats, both the top and bottoms several sizes too big. Obviously she hadn’t planned on a seduction, but that’s exactly what she wanted. A seduction. A night filled with passion and desire.
Brady was the man for the job, she knew it. He made her yearn and burn, he made her want. And then there was the added bonus of each of them knowing exactly what this was, and what it wasn’t. When the expiration date was up and he left Sunshine, she’d watch him walk away with a smile on her face.
“I want you,” he said, and stroked a finger over her shoulder, evoking a shiver. “I usually put what I need ahead of what I want, but with you the line blurs.” He slipped an arm around her waist, dipping his head to press his mouth against her jaw.
She had to clear her throat to speak. “I want you, too.” And needed him. Lord, how she needed him.
He ran his talented mouth up the side of her neck. His hand was low on her belly, the very tips of his fingers playing just beneath the elastic of the sweats, gliding lightly back and forth on her bare skin. “Be sure. This is unlike you, and a bad idea to boot.”
“It feels like a great idea,” she managed.
A low laugh escaped him, disturbing the hair at her temple.
“Christ, Lilah.” His other hand pushed her hair out of his way and then his mouth was on the nape of her neck, his teeth scraping over her, making her shiver. “Tell me no.”
“Yes.” She clutched the arm bracing her against him, already halfway to the “great” part of “great idea.” She could feel the heat of him, the strength, and it aroused her, making her shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asked against her skin.
“No. Hot.” She wanted-needed-his hand to move, either north or south.
Preferably south.
“Please,” she finally whispered, only to break off with a moan when his fingers trailed up her belly, along the zipper of the sweatshirt and then back, the rasp of metal on metal filling the room as he slid the zipper down. “This needs to go,” he said, and urged it off her shoulders.
The camisole beneath was white silk, a little sheer, and barely contained her breasts, which were spilling out over the top.
From over her shoulder, Brady took in the sight and groaned. His hand skimmed up her belly again, his thumb tracing the heavy underside of a breast for a moment before he nudged the spaghetti straps to her elbows, pressing his mouth to her shoulder. “Pretty,” he said in a voice gone so low in timbre as to be almost inaudible.
