Serving Up Trouble

There was some serious space invading going on here.

He was on his side, the numbest arm beneath Angie, the other over her hip. He had a handful of her very sexy butt, holding her close to him as if he never planned on letting her go. He had one leg thrust high between her thighs, and even now he could feel the heat of her.

She faced him, his little bed hog, completely relaxed in exhausted slumber since they’d finally fallen asleep only-he squinted at the clock-two hours ago. She had her nose pressed to his collarbone, one arm thrown over his neck and a leg tossed over his hip. Her breasts, bare and glorious and…damn it.

Her other hand was open on his chest, right over his heart. He drew in a long, deep breath and braced for the panic.

Angie opened her eyes. Slowly. Easily. No grogginess for this woman, as her dark gaze landed right on him. “Morning,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. Her hair tickled his nose, her body slid sensuously along his, making him want to purr in pleasure.

Then she smiled. A stunner. His heart actually stopped, because in that gaze wasn’t simply lust. No, nothing as simple as lust. There were all sorts of terrifying things: arousal, relief, joy, affection.

And love.

He couldn’t miss it. It was blaring at him, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

But he didn’t believe in a happy-ever-after. He didn’t believe in love. And wasn’t sure he ever would. “Angie-”

She blinked, and the emotions that had so rocked his world vanished in that one flash of time, replaced by…

Nothing.

She pulled back from him, slid out of the bed and bent for her clothes. “Look at the time.” She turned to him, covering her lovely body by holding her dress in front of it. “Can I use your bathroom?” she asked politely.

“Of course, but-damn it,” he said to no one when she disappeared into his bathroom. He got out of bed, swore again when his numb legs quivered like a newborn baby, and went to the bathroom door.

Locked.

He knocked. “Angie?”

For an answer, the shower came on.

“Angie…open up.” Nothing. “I guess you figured out I’m lousy at morning afters.”

He imagined her soaping up, which did little for his very in sis tent morning hard-on. “Angie?” He knocked again. “I’m sorry, okay? Now let me in.”

Steam began to come from under the door. He figured she was running her hands over her entire body now.

Which should have been his pleasure this morning, thank you very much. But he was too stupid to have finagled that, wasn’t he. He put his forehead to the wood. “Look, I just had a moment of panic when I woke up and there you were, and-” And given the silence he wasn’t doing this right.

The water turned off.

The door opened. She stood there wearing nothing but his towel wrapped around her delectable body. Lush, wet curves plumped out of the top of the towel while her tanned, toned thighs showed out the bottom. The towel was a tad too big for him to see anything else.

She put her hand to his chin and lifted his gaze so it met hers. “Is your moment of panic gone now?”

He opened his mouth, but he’d never lied in his life and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.

“I see,” she said quietly, and walked past him. Halfway to the bed, she dropped the towel.

His tongue nearly fell out of his mouth as she bent for her panties. “It’s…somewhat gone,” he managed to croak out.

“Somewhat isn’t good enough.” She stepped into her dress and pulled it up the length of her body, then started on the long row of buttons.

“I know a way that would greatly help,” he said, and when she turned to look him over, he realized he was standing there bare-ass naked.

She cocked her head and, while she smiled, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tempting, but…” She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t intend to push myself on you. Will you take me to work, please?”

Push herself on him? Hell, he was willing to beg. “Work isn’t a good idea, not until we get a hold of this guy.”

She tossed back her wet hair and put her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do, take me around with you all day long?”

Terrifying how tempting that sounded. “No, but you don’t have to go out in public and be a target. We’re going to get him, probably today.”

“You’re that close?”

“We’re that close.”

“I’m going to work, Sam. I’ll be fine there.” She slipped into her sandals. Used the towel that had been covering her body to dry her hair. Pulled up the blankets they’d tossed aside in their heated passion.

All without looking at him. He looked at her though, plenty. She smelled like his soap, his shampoo. And though she was entirely covered, he ached for her to be warm and naked and plastered against him, as she had been all night long.

But she was upset, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was his fault. So he shoved his legs into his discarded jeans, wincing as he fastened them over his erection, and went to her.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, resisting, but he turned her to face him.

“You’re angry.”

“Frustrated.” She finally looked at him, her eyes filled with some thing that made him swallow hard. “And I just realized I’m never going to reach you, not the way I want to.”

Regret was a two-fisted punch. “Angie-”

“Yeah, I know. Take me to work, Sam. I think we both need the space.”

Space was exactly what he needed. Actually, he had no idea what he needed anymore.

Sam pulled up in front of the cafe and turned to Angie, looking like he needed coffee in the worst way.

Angie released her seat belt, reached for the door handle, then sighed and sat back.

She couldn’t leave like this. He was miserable. She was miserable. All that misery radiated through out the truck.

Worse, it wasn’t his fault. He’d given her everything he could. She knew that.

She just wanted more.

Not fair to him, not fair at all. She’d known the rules when she’d made love with him. She’d gone into it with her eyes wide open.

And she would not hurt him simply because he couldn’t be what she wanted.

“Promise you’ll wait for me to pick you up after your shift,” he said. “That you won’t even think about going back to your apartment without me.”

“Sam-”

“Promise me, Angie.”

She stared up into his tense face. He hadn’t taken the time to shave, and the stubble on his jaw added to his edgy, dangerous expression. The black jeans and black T-shirt only lent credence to the fact.

But he didn’t scare her. He never could. Nor could she resist him, it seemed. With another sigh, she leaned in and put her mouth to the bunched muscle on his jaw.

From deep in his throat came a low, rough sound. A helpless sound.

And her heart squeezed. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to be touched by her, but he was. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was. “Angie, promise me.”

She replaced her mouth with her hands, cupping his face as she pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. “I promise to let you be my hero.”

“I mean it.”

So tough. Trying to be so distant. But his eyes gave him away. “I mean it, too.”

He stared at her for a long moment, as if assessing her for honesty.

She kissed him again, on the lips this time, very softly, very gently. “Have a good day.”