Hypervigilance and paranoia usually increased for her after intense situations, and being involved in a high-speed chase while shot at certainly counted as an intense situation.
She hadn't been lying in the truck. Never in her life had Dillon felt this level of arousal. Instead of asking herself why, instead of running through the last hour of her life over and over to discover any detail she might have missed, Dillon was picturing Nasa naked.
He and Top kept talking, going over theories she listened to with half an ear while Dillon simmered with growing lust.
Her bra felt too tight, to coarse, her underwear was soaked, and it felt as though her yoga pants were next. It might have been her imagination, but Dillon thought she could even smell her arousal.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, inadvertently catching Nasa's attention.
“Hey, you with me?” Nasa asked, and whatever he saw in her face when she looked up at him made his eyes narrow. “Top, we done here? I promised Dillon a hot bath.”
“Yep. Do what you need to do. We're secure as we can be. Dillon,” Top said her name with enough command to get her attention, and she saw with a detached sort of amusement, his beard jutted straight out from his chin when he clenched his jaw. “You did good today.”
Dillon blinked in confusion, hoping Top made the assumption she was in shock and not working to keep from rubbing up against Nasa like a cat in heat.
“All the pictures I took were blurry,” she pointed out.
Top gave a derisive snort, even as Nasa's hand tightened around hers. “Nasa will clean them up in no time, but that’s not what I meant. Most women would'a been screaming their heads off, and you were prepared to return fire. You did good. Where'd you get them britches?”
“What?”
Top pointed at her legs and wiggled his finger. “You've got a Colt in those pants, and if I didn't know better, I'd never have noticed. The girls all carry, and Athena's got a birthday comin’ up. Bet she'd like a pair.”
“I'll, um, I'll get you the store number.”
“Tomorrow,” Nasa cut in firmly.
“Definitely tomorrow,” Top agreed, giving her a nod. “Don't let what happened today run circles inside your head on repeat. Let it be for tonight.”
With that parting advice, Dillon followed the tug of Nasa's hand and let go of Elka, letting him guide her downstairs to his lair.
Even though she knew his goal was the bathroom, her heart rate continued to accelerate the closer they got to his bed.
In the days she'd spent in the basement, Dillon had done her level best to ignore the oversized bed Nasa had set up on a platform.
She'd tried to ignore how inviting the deep mattress seemed, how fluffy the comforter looked, and imagining what silk sheets might feel like against bare skin.
Unfortunately, she was failing.
A fine sheen of sweat covered her exposed skin, her belly kept twisting in knots, and if she didn't get her clothes off soon, Dillon didn't know what would happen.
She stopped halfway between the bathroom and the bed, bowing her head to rub at her temples in hopes of getting it together.
Already hovering, Nasa curved his body around her, bringing with him the smell of pine forests and leather, and another vicious flutter rippled through her vagina.
The calluses on his palms scraped deliciously up and down her biceps, which caused her to bite back a desperate moan as the sensation only inflamed her further.
“Talk to me, Tiger Lily,” he insisted, the deep timbre of his voice adding another layer of vibration to stimulate her.
It was second nature to lash out, to change the subject and fight the unfamiliar feelings overwhelming her.
She almost did it, too, but one look up at him and the urge slipped away. Still, she needed something to cling to, something to keep from losing all control and taking him down right there on the floor.
“Why do you call me that? I'm no Neverland princess.”
Nasa tilted his head, his gaze boring into hers with all the intensity of a raptor. His hands traveled down her arms to her wrists, lifting her palms to his throat, pressing her fingertips into the skin of his neck so she could feel how his pulse pounded in harmony with her own.
“The day you showed up at the compound, I was down here, watching you on the security feed. Not knowing who you were or why you'd come, or if you were a threat. I had to zoom in on your face to get a clear shot for my trace program, and I could see how scared you were.
“I suspected you were here as a spy for Ghost, but it didn't stop me from being attracted to you. I watched you, taking it all in, weighing your options and assessing how to respond. I saw your tiger eyes catch the sunlight, and when you turned around, I saw your stripes.”
Dillon felt her heart take a flying leap right at him, but he kept right on talking, not giving her the opportunity to respond.
“Everyone processes shock differently, Dillon. If you need to cry, or scream, or if you want to go burn some bullets, that's okay.
"I can give you space if you need it, just don't ask me to leave you to handle it alone, because it’s not happening.”
He was so earnest— so sincere— eagerly waiting for her to tell him what he could do to help her. All she had to do was be brave.
“I can't turn it off. I thought it would go away once we got back here, but its only gotten worse,” she babbled, liking the way his eyes widened in response to the huskiness of her voice.
“I don't need a bath or to cry, and as good as it would probably feel,
