06 Double Danger (27 page)

“And when you reached out to me, I wasn’t there.”

She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “It had been a particularly bad fight. He… he pushed me down the stairs. I hit my head really hard and broke my wrist. And I knew then that if I didn’t get out, sooner or later, he was going to kill me. Only I was so ashamed and so afraid. I didn’t know what to do. So I called you.”

“And I was so busy trying not to deal with my feelings, I left you out there on your own. I feel like such an ass.”

“You had no idea what was going on,” she said, surprised to find she wasn’t angry at him any longer. “And
even if you had, I don’t know that it would have played out any different. I was going to tell him I was leaving when he came back from this last tour… only he didn’t come back. And then everyone was going on and on about what a hero he was.”

“And you knew differently.”

“I was so confused. I mean, on the one hand, he was a hero. He died saving those women. But on the other hand…”

“He hit you.”

“Not exactly the easiest of paradoxes.”

“So why didn’t you tell me then?” He reached for her hands, and this time she didn’t pull away.

“You had your injury. And your career. And besides,” she allowed herself a little smile, “I was still angry at you.”

“And I thought it was because you blamed me for his death. God, Jillian, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

She released a breath, feeling as if a weight had been lifted. She wiped away her tears. And then his head jerked up, his gaze colliding with hers.

“When you flinched—the day I caught you by surprise in here—you thought I was going to hit you. You were afraid of me.”

“In the moment, yes,” she said, hating the look of shock on his face, “I was afraid. But it was just a reaction. It wasn’t about you.”

“But that’s why you wanted to end things. You’re scared that I’m going to do what Ryan did. That because I’ve been over there, and seen what I’ve seen, that I’ll eventually take that out on you.”

“Maybe. Yeah, I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But you also have to know that in my
heart I know that you’d never hurt me. Not intentionally. Not like that.”

“So then—” He shook his head, clearly confused.

“I wanted to end things because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of making the same kind of mistake. Afraid of trusting my choices and finding out that I’m wrong. I barely survived Ryan, Simon, I can’t risk that happening to me again.” She sucked in a breath, lifting her chin, knowing that now was the time for complete honesty. No matter the consequences.

“And most important,” she stared down at her hands, her heart pounding, “I’m afraid that whatever this is you feel for me—whatever is happening between us now—that knowing the truth about me will kill it. That you’ll be as disgusted with me as I am with myself. I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder. I let him take everything from me.”

“Look at me,” he said, cupping her face with his hands. “Jillian,
look at me
. What happened to you wasn’t your fault. And nothing you’ve told me changes the way I feel about you. I let you go once because I was young and stupid. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go again. If it takes fifty years for you to be sure you can believe that, then so be it, I’ll be here waiting. I’ll give you all the space you need, but I am not walking away again.”

She searched his eyes, recognizing suddenly that this was one of those moments when a single decision had the power to shift their entire lives forever.

“I don’t need space,” she said, fighting against her battling emotions. “At least not right now.”

“So what do you need?” he asked, his fingers warm against her cheeks.

“You,” she whispered, “I need you.”

Y
ou’re sure?” Simon whispered, his body already tightening with need. Nothing she had said tonight had changed the way he felt about her. In fact, if anything, he only cared about her more. As a girl, she’d been witty and idealistic. Beautiful inside and out. But only a wisp of the woman she’d become. Strong, resilient, a force to be reckoned with—the reality of the woman even more intoxicating than the memory of the girl.

Her gaze collided with his, her eyes hungry. “I want you,” she repeated, on a soft exhalation of breath.

For a moment, they stood absolutely still, the only sound in the room the rise and fall of their breathing. And then with a strangled moan, she threw herself at him, pressing against him, twining her fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

When it came, the kiss was like an explosion, heat rocketing through him with the power of fission. What was it with this woman? She touched him, and everything
disintegrated in the path of his overwhelming desire for her. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her again. And being with her the past two nights had only ramped up his need.

He trailed kisses along the line of her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. She trembled at the touch, and he smiled, then moved his mouth lower, his tongue circling one taut nipple beneath the thin material of her camisole.

She sighed, arching her back, offering herself to him. He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, her nipples beading into little balls, his mind going into overdrive as the lamplight washed against her skin.

Then with a crooked smile, she returned the favor, undoing the buttons on his shirt, her fingers grazing the skin beneath. Finally, she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his chest, the friction sending blood to his groin, his penis throbbing in anticipation. Then her lips found his again, her kiss a wicked combination of come-on and surrender. He opened his mouth, welcoming her inside, using touch as a silent language, neither advancing nor retreating but instead joining together in a tempestuous dance of emotion and sensation.

His hands moved in slow, languid circles across her back, the silky feel of her skin adding fuel to his rising passion. With a groan, he pushed her backward toward the table by the wall, lifting her so that her legs straddled the corner, his mouth crushing hers, drinking her in, his need for her laid bare. She pulled him closer, clearly wanting him as much as he wanted her.

He trailed hot kisses down her neck to the valley between her breasts, and then slowly, he shifted to take
one nipple into his mouth, biting softly, her answering moan sending liquid heat coursing through his groin. He circled her aureole with his tongue, then drew it farther into his mouth, sucking until she pleaded with him for more.

Happy to comply, he slid his hands under the elastic of her sweats and panties, caressing the soft skin at the juncture of her thighs.

“Oh, God, Simon,” she whispered, her voice shaking with need. “Give me more.
Please
.”

Unerringly his fingers found the nub that marked the center of her desire. He circled it lazily, still sucking at her breast, her hair draped around his head like a curtain.

Then with a final kiss, he shifted back to her mouth, two fingers sliding deep inside her, his tongue mimicking the rhythm. He fed on her pleasure, relishing the movement of her body against his as she strove to find release.

His mouth and hands possessed her, and she cried in frustration when he released her, but he just smiled, his eyes locked with hers as he knelt beside the table, pulling off the rest of her clothes, and then pushing her knees open. Her eyes widened, but then, with a sigh, she leaned back to brace herself on her elbows.

He lifted her left leg over his shoulder and softly kissed the tender skin of her inner thigh. With a soft cry, she reached for him, urging him forward.

She tasted both sweet and salty, and he relished the power he felt in taking her to the edge of the precipice. He drove his tongue deep inside her, feeling her contract against him. He tasted her, drinking her in, his hands caressing her as his tongue moved in and out, driving her
higher and higher until she lifted off the table, crying his name.

He stood then, gathering her trembling body in his arms, realizing that he, too, was shivering. But hers was from climax, his was from white-hot need. She rained kisses on his face as he carried her into the bedroom, her body rubbing tantalizingly against his erection as they moved.

He released her, letting her body slide against his. She stood for a moment, then softly smiled, holding out her hand, the gesture a reflection of the night before—their roles reversed now—the invitation hers.

He reached for her, and she closed the distance between them, pulling his pants from his hips, her fingers still trembling. He covered her hand with his. “You’re sure?” he asked, repeating his earlier question, even as his mind rebelled against the possibility that she’d say no.

“From here on out,” she whispered, reaching up to brush her lips against his. “Nothing between us but honesty.” It was a new beginning. A covenant. And with a groan, he pulled her hard against him, accepting what she offered, raising the ante with the fervor of his kiss.

They backed farther into the room, arms locked around each other, her hands sliding along the muscles of his chest, the contact setting his synapses on fire. She teased him then, running her tongue along the edge of his nipple, laughing softly when it tightened under her touch. Then she dropped her hand, stroking first the ridge of his stomach and then the hard length of his penis, squeezing and stroking in a way that threatened to unman him on the spot.

“Jesus, Jillian.” The words ripped out of him on a sigh.

And she laughed, tightening her hold, the strokes longer now, faster. And he pulled away, swinging her into his arms again, his mouth slanting over hers for a kiss.

He reached the bed, and they fell back against the sheets, legs tangling together, as she straddled him. She leaned down, her hair tickling his neck, her lips caressing the rough beginnings of his beard. Then she was everywhere, kissing and exploring, leaving nothing untouched, unloved. She paused when she reached his scar, and, without meaning to, he held his breath. Then she reached out to tenderly stroke the injured muscle, bending down to press her lips against it, her touch almost reverent.

Trembling with the sheer power of the feelings she evoked, he rolled over, pinning her beneath him, wanting nothing more than to feel himself deep within her heat. Catching her gaze, he waited, poised above her. And she nodded, opening to him, and with one swift move, he buried himself deep inside her, the contact beyond all imagination.

There was passion reflected in the depths of her eyes, passion and something else, something so tender it almost took his breath away. Slowly, almost languorously at first, he began to move, each slow thrust tormenting and delighting them both.

With a moan, she arched upward, driving him deeper, the storm reaching a crescendo. They moved together faster and harder, each stroke ratcheting them higher.

Simon closed his eyes and let himself go, surrendering to the moment. Together they moved in a sensual spiral, higher and higher, until they found release, the climax more amazing than anything he’d ever believed possible.

And in that moment of ecstasy, he held on to the fact
that it was his name she called, his body she clung to—his soul she held in her hands.

Simon sat in front of the fireplace, wondering if Avery’s well-stocked safe house ran to a pile of wood. Then rejected the idea as too much trouble. Instead, he poured himself another glass of whiskey. It was late and dark, the moon having set hours ago. He’d come downstairs to think. Needing the space. Trying to absorb everything that Jillian had told him. While it might not affect the way he felt about her, it totally changed everything he knew to be true. Ryan had been his best friend, and yet, clearly, he’d never known the man. Which didn’t say a lot for his powers of observation.

Jillian had been crying out for help, and he hadn’t seen a thing. In fact, he had gone to extremes to avoid being alone with her. His pride had left her vulnerable in a way he would never have imagined.

And Ryan. Who the hell had he really been? Certainly not the hero everyone was making him out to be. And yet, even as he had the thought, Simon knew that it was more complicated than that. But if Ryan had hurt Jillian then there was no forgiving the man. Which was a stupid thought. Ryan was dead. What the hell did he care if Simon forgave him?

Which, for a moment, illustrated the precarious feelings Jillian had been dealing with for years. And his heart ached for her, some part of him wanting nothing more than to erase all the pain. But he knew that it wasn’t possible. So he was sitting here, feeling impotent. No matter the reason, he’d lost a friend tonight. A man he’d thought he’d known.

Then, to top it all off, there were his feelings for Jillian. Tonight when they’d made love, it was different from before. The connection stronger, deeper than he’d ever imagined possible. And yet, she’d made it more than clear that she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Hell, she might never be ready. Especially with him. After all, he, more than anyone, stood as a reminder of the past.

Not to mention the fact that he lived life straddling the line between good and evil. Fighting to keep the world a safer place. It sounded noble. But it wasn’t. The truth was that he was an adrenaline jockey. A man who loved living on the edge. And Jillian had spent every day with the fallout from that kind of life.

God, it was screwed up.

Or maybe he was just making it so. Relationships had never been his strong point. If nothing else his past with Jillian proved the point.

He drained the glass and started to reach for the bottle to pour some more.

“I see you’re having trouble sleeping, too,” Avery said, his big body filling the doorway of the parlor. “Want some company?”

“Sure. Grab a drink.” He waved at the bottle on the table in front of him. “I was just about to have another.”

“Anything particular on your mind?” Avery asked, as he poured for them, then handed Simon his glass. “I know you well enough to know that you’re not the type of man to lose sleep over a mission. So what gives?”