Burn for You (32 page)

“Oh, no. I have another place in mind for it.” Victoria started for the stairs and heard a quick shuffling of papers as Jason stood up.

“Where are you going with that? Victoria, you are not hanging that thing in my house.”

She turned on the steps. “Oh, come on. You have a periodic table hanging over your bed.” Which she knew because she’d been sleeping in his bed for the past two nights. Without him of course. The no-sleeping-together rule was still in full force. Jason’s second bedroom was an office, so he slept in the recliner downstairs, which he insisted was far more comfortable as he could keep his hand safely on the armrest. A plausible excuse to be sure, but she suspected he just wasn’t ready to bring down his barrier made up of rules.

“So?” he said. “It looks good there.”

“A periodic table looks good in a high school science classroom. You’re a grown man. You should have some sophisticated art in your household.”

“That—” Jason pointed his bandaged hand at the painting. “—is not a sophisticated piece of art.”

“Yes, it is.” Victoria dropped the painting on the stair in front of her and gestured like an auto-show model. “This isn’t just a picture of some yellow butterflies. Look at the red and orange tones in the background. They’re reminiscent of flames, don’t you think? These are butterflies flying out of the fire.” Glancing up, she laid the snooty art critic voice on a little thicker, hoping to make him laugh. He’d been far too tense the last few days. “Jason, these are
survivor
butterflies. What’s more sophisticated than that?”

His brows drew together behind his glasses. He didn’t have the coordination to put his contacts in left-handed, and truth be told, Victoria preferred the nerdy eyewear. There was something about a muscular guy in Clark Kent frames that really did it for her.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, incredulous.

“Okay, so the painting’s message doesn’t speak to you. That’s fine. What about the colors? You have dark-brown bedding. This pop of color would be perfect above your bed.”

Jason shook his head and walked back to couch, flopping down in the middle of his research again. “Fine. Hang the picture. I don’t have time to argue about this.”

Victoria bit her lip. Not quite the reaction she’d been hoping for. And while his tone was a bit unnecessary, she knew it was the stress talking. He wanted to stop this arsonist, and she was distracting him with nonsense about redecorating. She should remember that distraction was her way of coping, not his. Jason liked to problem-solve.

Walking up the stairs, Victoria did her best to walk silently, the way she used to when she was a little girl and her dad worked the night shift and slept during the day. She’d just stay out of Jason’s way for a little while and let him work on his puzzle.

Up in his bedroom, she took down the periodic table framed in an inexpensive plastic poster frame. She’d put it back, of course. She wasn’t going to redecorate if Jason didn’t want her to, but she
did
want to see if the butterfly painting looked as good as she thought it would.

With the late afternoon sun streaming through the window, Victoria stepped back to study the picture. It did look good. She was right—the red, orange, and yellow were perfect with his dark-brown comforter. And surprisingly, the painting wasn’t overly feminine. Despite the butterflies, the bold colors fit with the masculine feel of the room.

Satisfied that she’d been right, Victoria knelt on the bed to remove the painting.

“Leave it,” Jason said from the doorway, startling her. “You were right. It looks good there.”

“Jason, I’m sorry—”

“No, I’m sorry. I was a complete ass just now.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re stressed about the case—”

“That’s no excuse for me to snap at you.”

Victoria tilted her head, studying him. Would it always be difficult for him to believe he deserved a little forgiveness once in a while? “Well, actually it is. It’s a very good excuse. You’re human. We all get irritated once in a while.”

“You’re not…”

“Not what?”

“An irritation. Ever. I…” He leaned against the doorjamb, looking down at the floor, and she went to him, unable to resist giving him a hug when he looked so defeated. He straightened from the doorway and wrapped his arms—arm—around her, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” she said, her face pressed into the warm cotton of his t-shirt.

“Not knowing what’s going to happen or where it’s going to happen is making me a little crazy.”

“I know.”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider calling in sick to work on the twenty-seventh?”

“Jason.” She leaned back in his arms and found his usually calm-water eyes looking more like troubled seas. “You know I can’t do that. That’d be like asking you not to go to an armed robbery call when the dispatcher calls your number.”

He sighed. “I know.” Using his good arm, he pulled her back to him and placed a kiss to her temple. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“You know what you need?” she asked, leaning back in his arms again.

“What?”

“I know you’re the type to work on a problem until you find a solution, but maybe you need to stop thinking about this case for a little while. Maybe you need a distraction, so you can return to it with fresh eyes.”

“And what do you suggest?”

“Well…”

* * *

Jason’s pulse kicked up a notch when she whispered ideas for distracting him into his ear. That throaty, velvety voice of hers was every bit as erotic as the words falling from her lips.

And God, he needed her. Since he’d been home from the hospital, the pain in his hand had kept him from indulging in her delectable body. He would’ve put up with any amount of pain to have her, but Victoria was entirely too perceptive. She read every subtle twinge of discomfort in his face, and then tried to make it better somehow, offering him painkillers or encouraging him to keep his hand elevated. He didn’t want the painkillers, but more than that, he didn’t want to keep putting that little worried wrinkle on her brow. So, he’d stopped trying to start things with her.

But after days of having her in his house, wearing her short running shorts and teasing him with those beautiful legs, he couldn’t hold out any longer. Pain be damned.

She trailed kisses down his neck and his good hand snuck up her shirt, his palm running up the warm smooth skin of her back. He fidgeted with the clasp of her bra with his clumsy left hand, but couldn’t get it to snap open. Groaning, he asked, “What’s with the damn Fort Knox bra?”

“Here, let me.” With a sultry smile, she guided him to the edge of his bed and gave his chest a shove to make him sit.

Standing between his legs, she leaned down and kissed him, her tongue boldly exploring his mouth. Unable to stay still, he let his good hand wander up her shirt to massage one of her breasts through the lace of her bra.

She stepped back from him, a confident smile lighting her face, and pulled the t-shirt over her head. Slowly, she unclasped the Fort Knox bra. His brain flashed back to the very first time she’d stripped for him at her brother’s wedding. She’d been nervous at first, her hands trembling as she inched her dress down.

But there were no nerves now. His Victoria was fucking sexy and she knew it.

The bra came off and Jason groaned, leaning forward to take one of her breasts into his mouth.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She danced out of his reach. “Not yet.”

She drew out the striptease, slowly removing her shorts, tantalizing him by skimming her hands over her breasts, her belly, between her legs, over and under the silk of her panties until she removed them completely.

Jason was burning up, dying for a taste of the skin she displayed for his eyes only.

She walked slowly to his nightstand, smiling and sashaying her hips to tease him. She pulled out a little foil packet and finally came back to him. Slowly, torturously, she removed his shorts and boxers then moved the condom down his cock while he kissed whatever piece of exposed skin came his way.

Running his tongue over her butterfly tattoo, he noticed her necklace. The St. Michael pendant she sometimes wore. Patron saint of police officers.

And paramedics.

The reminder that she might actually need those prayers from her mother to keep her safe sent his head reeling. He couldn’t stand to think of her in harm’s way, couldn’t handle the thought of her being hurt.

A need born of fear made the pressure inside him build, and he grabbed Victoria around her waist with his good hand and pulled her to him until she straddled his cock. “No more teasing,” he said, his voice gravelly. “This is mine.”

Her breath caught when she took him inside her, and Jason latched on to the hard bud of her nipple. It wasn’t enough to be inside her. He wanted to consume her. He suckled at her breast, and she quickened her pace on his cock.

Moving up her body, he kissed her neck and breathed in her orange-vanilla lotion—a smell that was everywhere these days. In his bathroom. On his clothes. A constant and arousing reminder of her presence.

With his bandaged arm at the small of her back, he squeezed her hip with his good hand and guided her into a furious rhythm. To prevent himself from voicing his possessive thoughts, he took her mouth with his.

You’re mine.
With every thrust of her pelvis, his body screamed,
Mine. Mine. Mine.

Knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer, he reached his thumb between them and massaged her slick center. She cried out and rode him harder, her body tightening around his, her ecstasy pulling forth his violent climax.

He struggled to catch his breath, and in the sweet aftermath of their release, her movements slowed, but the refrain in his head continued.
Mine…Mine…Mine
.

* * *

“I think you should know that you’re really bad at this.” Smiling, Victoria lay on her side next to Jason and massaged his scalp with her fingers.

“Bad at what?” he asked.

“Relaxing.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything. I’m just laying here.”

“You’re tense. Even your scalp feels tense.”

“How can a scalp be tense?”

“I don’t know, but yours is. You’re thinking too hard.”

Smiling, he asked, “And how do you know I’m thinking too hard?”

“I just do. You can’t stop thinking about the case, can you?”

He sighed. “No, I can’t.” He unfolded his arm from under his head and put it around Victoria. She curled into him, resting her head on chest. “I can’t help thinking he’s spelled it out for me, and I’m just not seeing it.”

“It’s like a riddle. If he gives you all the clues and you don’t get it, then he proves he’s smarter than you.”

“Exactly.”

She tilted her face up to his. “He’s not smarter than you.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Your blind faith is flattering, but I’m not so sure.”

The arm around her remained tense.

“It’s driving you nuts to lay here with me now when all your research is downstairs, isn’t it?”

His chest rumbled with a surprised chuckle under her cheek. “Little bit, yeah.”

She sighed dramatically. “All right, I suppose this ends our post-coitus bliss. Go forth and do whatever it is you arson investigators do.”

She laughed when he sprang up from the bed like a kid who’d just been let out for recess.

He pulled his boxers on one-handed. “I’m sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I know I’m no fun, but September twenty-seventh is just days away.”

“I know. It’s okay.” She finished pulling on her panties and slid her t-shirt over her head. “I can hardly be mad at you for being tenacious when it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Jason froze. His t-shirt was only halfway on, leaving his torso exposed until he snapped out of it and pulled it the rest of the way down.

“I mean…”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Too soon, Victoria. Too damn soon
. “I meant one of the things I love
about
you. Because I love things…about you…I’m not saying I love you.”

“Right.” The panic in his voice was palpable as he pulled his shorts on. “It’s too soon. You can’t know something like that so quickly.”

Except that she did.

“Jason, listen.” Unwilling to have this conversation pantsless, she quickly pulled her running shorts back on. “The thing is…I do know.”

She wasn’t going to back down because it made him uncomfortable. Her fate had been sealed the moment the words came out of her mouth. She’d ended their friends-with-benefits relationship the second she’d said
I love you
. So, she could either let him push her away now, or she could stay and fight for the real relationship she knew was possible.

Even if he didn’t.

“I didn’t misspeak just then. I love you. I am
in
love with you.”

“No.” Shaking his head, he let out a humorless laugh. “No. You can’t be. It’s…infatuation…the sex…it’s really great…and you
think
you’re in love with me, but you’re not.”