72 Hours (10 page)

“I’ve always been here for you, Grace. No matter what you believe. No matter what has—”

“No,” she interrupted him. There wasn’t enough left of her to do the past at the moment. “Not now. Please.”

“Soon.” He was moving closer—slowly—and she felt as if he was stalking her like a predator.

“Soon. But not now. I…I’m still on a bit of an adrenaline high, I guess.”

“There’s a sure-fire cure for that,” he said in that damned
take your clothes off
voice.

Grace sighed, her knees going weak. They’d cured the hell out of adrenaline highs back when they worked together. Hard and fast, and sometimes still half-clothed. It had never failed them.

She bunched the front of his T-shirt into her fist and pulled him close. She may regret this in the morning, but that was then. “I need you,” she growled, pulling his face down to hers.

That was all the encouragement he needed apparently, since in the next instant she was flat on her back on the bed. As his body settled over hers, she arched her back, bringing her hips up to meet his.

His hands slid under her, cupping her ass and holding her to him. “I’ve missed you, Grace.”

He had no idea how much that feeling was mutual. She hadn’t lived like a nun since Danny’s birth, but the dry spells were frequent and long. And there had never been anybody like Alex.

“Why did we stop doing this?” Alex asked, rocking his denim-clad erection against her, and Grace felt a rush of feminine victory at the tightness in his voice.

“Because you shot me,” she reminded him.

“Oh, that’s right.”

His hands left her ass and slid up under her shirt, his fingers splaying across her ribs. The needy ache in the small of her back intensified, and she plunged her fingers into his hair to pull his mouth to hers.

She wanted hot and urgent, but that damned Italian soul of his went for finesse. He let their breath mingle, flicked his tongue over her lip. Teased her.

When she growled low in her throat, he only pulled back and smiled. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“Starving.”

“Then we should go slowly. I don’t want you to overdo it.”

She pulled at his T-shirt, her fingers scraping his skin as she dragged it up his back. “I want you naked, Alex.”

He stood and dragged the shirt up his body and over his head, tossing it carelessly in the corner. “Your turn.”

She hesitated, feeling shy with him for the first time. She’d changed so much in the years since they’d last been naked, and she’d given birth to a child. Alex was still so…Alex. Hard muscle, tanned flesh and faint scars.

He held out his hand, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t even think about trying to hide your body from me, Grace.”

She let him pull her to feet and sucked in her breath when his hands slid under her shirt. The heat of his touch traveled across her stomach, and then up and over her ribs to cup her breasts.

His touch was tentative, almost shy, and it pissed her off. She didn’t want a reacquainting to remind her of all that lay between them. She wanted it the way he’d always given it to her—hard and fast.

She pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it away. “Stop with the touchy-feely shit and let’s do this already.”

When she went for her bra clasp he captured her wrists, holding her hands at the back of her waist. “Pushy bitch, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a close my eyes and think of England kinda girl.”

Alex pulled down on her wrists, arching her back and offering up her breasts. With his teeth, he pulled at the fabric of her bra, exposing first one aching nipple and then the other. “What
do
you think of when you close your eyes?

“I try to remember all the world capitals in alphabetical order,” she teased, forcing herself not squirm as the damp heat of his mouth warmed her flesh. “But I always get distracted somewhere around Jakarta.”

Alex growled, and the vibration of it tickled her skin. “Tell me what you really think about, smart-ass.”

When he bit down on her nipple as punishment, Grace moaned and arched her back willingly for him. “You, Alex. Always you.”

His control finally snapped, and he shoved her down on the bed. He yanked her jeans down and off, and her panties followed. She slipped out of her bra as she sat up, then slid to her knees on the floor.

The button gave way easily, and she drank in his long, ragged sigh of relief as she slid his zipper down. She tucked her fingers into his waistband and pulled the jeans over his hips, her mouth damn near watering at the sight of the bulge under those boxer briefs.

He lifted first one foot and then the other so she could toss the jeans aside. She ran her hands over his calves, then brought them around to the front of his thighs. Alex sucked in a breath when her fingertips breached the leg bands. She splayed her fingers, loving the feel of hard muscle under tender skin.

When he growled deep in his throat, Grace withdrew her hands from under the cotton. Careful to ease the elastic over his straining cock, she removed the briefs even faster than she’d taken off the jeans.

When she made to take him in her hands, he grabbed her wrists and hauled her to her feet.

“Later,” he demanded. “I won’t last long as it is.”

When he ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass, Grace wrapped her arms around his neck. He hooked her behind the knees and lifted her legs to his waist. She was totally ready for him and his cock slid into her, filling her.

She breathed his name, the tang of his shaving cream making her sinuses tingle. After the initial thrust, Alex stilled and Grace tried to rock against him, her body screaming for a mind-numbing orgasm.

His fingertips bit into her ass and he took a couple of steps, pressing her back against the door. “Be still.”

“I don’t want to be still,” she hissed in his ear. “I want—I
need
—to come. Now.”

He pulled back to just shy of his cock slipping free of her. “Say please.”

She wanted to hit him—to wrestle him down to the ground and ride him until they were both drained, but the bastard had her pinned against the damn door. “I’ll make you pay for this.”

He twitched his hips, and she tried to buck against him, wanting more. He held back. “Beg, Grace.”

Oh, he was
so
going to pay later. “Please, Alex. Fuck me now.”

He drove into her and she thought her body would explode with each thrust. He was punishing her, and she let her head drop against the door and welcomed it.

“You shouldn’t have left me,” he growled, the veins standing out on his neck. “After every job I wanted to fuck you, Grace. And you weren’t here.”

She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to come, and she dug her fingernails into his back, urging him on.

“Instead I’d get shot at and have to jerk myself off in the shower.”

Okay,
that
she might want to talk about. Later. Maybe while they were admiring the bruises she’d have on her back.

Alex shifted her weight, freeing one hand. He slid it behind her head and wrapped his fingers in her hair. He pulled hard, dragging her face up to his. He kissed her, his teeth biting at her lip.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, the muscles in his back trembling under her hands.

She came then, her scream muffled by his own mouth. His cock pulsed in her and he thrust harder as his own orgasm rocked him.

As the aftershocks faded, he slid to the floor, taking her with him. He kissed her again—this time gently—with smiling lips.

“I feel better now.”

Grace chuckled against his sweaty shoulder. “I really needed that.”

And she had. Curled with him on the soft carpet, she felt it all slide away. Tension, anger, fear, the rush…everything. Her muscles felt liquid, and she simply relaxed against Alex’s hard body, content to let him stroke her hair.

As the panting faded, her eyelids grew heavier. Danny was safe. Alex was safe. And she was safe in his arms. Good enough.

Grace jumped, startled awake, when Alex slapped her on the ass. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. We’ve still got work to do.”

“Five more minutes.”

“Nope. Besides, the faster we get this done, the sooner Danny can go home.”

The longing for Danny made her stomach ache, and she pushed herself to her feet. She’d known it would be hard leaving him, but it was a little harder than she’d anticipated. Even knowing he was being spoiled by his grandparents’ love and attention right now didn’t make her forget all three of her loved ones were locked in a cement bunker.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away before Alex saw them. It had to be the sex. It had kicked her hormones into gear, and now she was crying, dammit.

“He seems like a really great kid,” Alex said quietly, tucking his T-shirt back into his jeans. “I wish I’d gotten to talk to him some more, but he seems really okay, and he’s a smart little shit. Had my number in a hurry.”

She laughed, but the blinking wasn’t working and the tears were running over. She pulled her own shirt on, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “He’s a really good kid.”

“I bet you’re a really good mom.”

She sniffed, swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I can’t even bake cookies, Alex.”

“You don’t need to bake cookies. You can buy them. You can even buy the refrigerated ones you just slice, bake and pretend are homemade. If you don’t eat all the raw dough first.”

She shook her head. “Raw eggs. Salmonella.”

Alex snorted. “I must like living on the edge. I’ve eaten my weight in raw cookie dough.”

“You’re not my son. If you want to die of salmonella, go for it.”

Alex took her hand in his own. “You don’t have to be Betty Crocker to be a good mom, Grace.”

“I bet your mother was a great cook.”

He laughed, but she saw the heartbroken little boy in his eyes. “She was Italian. Every meal was a feast.”

She’d known him a long time—over a decade—and she had no idea how his mother died. But the odd comments he’d made to her earlier in the day about dead mothers ran through her head. “What happened to her, Alex?”

He pulled away. “She died. A long time ago.”

Just the way he slammed the emotional door in her face made her believe it was important—relevant—to the present.

“Danny is her grandson. It’s important I know about your family. If there’s something in his medical history or genetic—”

“She was murdered.”

His voice was cold and abrupt. Obviously some unresolved issues there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Well, I did, but I shouldn’t have. I’m going to go…get a snack or something. Want anything?”

He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “No. Stay. I’ll tell you about my mother.”

“Alex, you don’t have to do this. Not now.”

He walked to the minibar and poured them each a drink. “You’re the mother of my son. You should know.”

Grace settled into the big armchair where she wouldn’t be able to reach out and comfort him when the urge struck. When? Hell, it already had.

“I was twelve. She smelled pretty that day, which means we were going out for a nice lunch. She liked to smell good when we went into town. But underneath she still smelled like my mother.”

Damn, she was tearing up already. Years after she was gone, would Danny remember how she smelled?

“My father was in...an agency. We were in Italy, and he was working to take down a big crime lord. One night my father was taken, beaten and dumped on the front step of our home. It was his first warning to back off. He didn’t.

“The shooting was his second warning. Mama and I were walking through the marketplace. Then there were two men with guns. She pushed me under a cart and covered me with her body. Her sweat made the perfume stronger.”

He stood and strode back to the minibar. Grabbing a small bottle of scotch, he downed a healthy swallow. He carried the bottle back with him.

“I felt every bullet hit her body. Three hit me, but after passing through… That was my father’s second warning.”

Grace couldn’t say anything for at least a minute. The horror of that day was almost too much for her very maternal heart to bear.

Alex took another swallow of scotch. Then another. “I’m telling you this for a reason, Grace.”

Yes, because she’d pushed him to it. “I don’t think Danny needs to hear this for a good long time.”

“Not for the boy.” He reached across and threaded his fingers through hers. “My mother baked cookies that could make a grown man cry.”

What the hell was that? A little emotional jab as payback for getting him to actually reveal something personal about himself?

“But I didn’t love Mama for her cookies,” he continued with a small smile. “I remember her holding me when I was sick. The way a good report from school lit up her face.”

Now she knew where this was going. “She loved you. I love Danny. I get that. But a little boy should have—”

“A mother who will sacrifice everything for him.” Alex cupped her chin in his hand, looking her in the eye. “Whether we’re three feet tall or six feet, all we need is the unconditional love of a good woman.”