Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (34 page)

He made her sound so horribly ugly. Shadows under her eyes. Tired-looking. She must be so boring. When did she become like that? Jaymee impatiently pushed away her self-pity. She made a last resort to defend herself. “I like to work.”

“Not till you drop,” he countered, but he didn’t sound accusing or mocking. “Look, I’m not criticizing you. I know how strong a person you are, but lean a little, damn it.”

“On whom? My dad?” she shot back, one corner of her mouth lifted in disgust.

“On me.” Nick’s hand slid from her chin to her shoulder and he pulled her even closer. “For now. You’re an amazing woman, Jaymee, but give yourself a break.”

Amazing? Strong? She stared back in confusion. Did he just praise her?

“Your eyes say you don’t believe me,” he remarked, when she didn’t say anything.

“It’s difficult to jump from being told you’re tired-looking and owl-eyed to you’re amazing and strong in less than a minute,” she pointed out.

Nick grinned. “Women,” he complained. “They always zero in on the wrong things first.”

Jaymee’s eyes were green and suspicious. “And how many women have you been telling they’re strong and amazing?”

He gave the query a long enough consideration to see her small eyes narrow into warning slits. She looked like a cat about to pounce, he thought, amusement rising. This new switch was unexpected; he hadn’t realized he could make her jealous.

“Not any who looked tired or owl-eyed,” he finally drawled out, then kissed her on the lips hard before she could respond. “I think it’s safer for me to be in my Jeep now. I’ll be a good worker, but you’re going to talk to me after work—” He opened the door, and added, “—boss.”

***

Not that there was much work to do for the rest of the day. “The day just isn’t meant to be,” she said to no one in particular, as she stood in her driveway staring at the looming dark clouds descending like angry warlords.

“Where do you want us to meet tomorrow, Jay?” Dicker asked from under a tree in her front yard.

“Do we have any job, seeing that Excel’s fired you?” Lucky wanted to know, scratching the back of his neck with a twig.

Jaymee didn’t correct the wrong assumption, that she was fired. Still looking at the ominous sky, she said, “I’ll line up a few jobs. We were supposed to do a roof this Friday for another builder, but I’ll see whether it’s ready for us tomorrow. Meet me here in the morning.”

The two men moved toward Dicker’s truck. “Who did Excel get to replace us, do you know, boss?” Dicker asked.

Jaymee shrugged. “I think it’s Gregg’s, but I don’t really know.”

“Say, that’s where Chuck and Rich said they were working now,” Lucky commented.

“Mighty good timing, if you ask me,” observed Dicker, as he closed the big toolbox mounted behind his truck. “See you in the morning, boss. Bye, Nick.”

Nick nodded as he adjusted the hood that protected his Jeep from the elements. “Yeah. See you, Dicker.”

Jaymee watched him for a moment. “Need help?”

“No, I’m almost done.”

“I’m going inside for a late lunch. Hungry?”

He gave her a look that sent her scrambling toward the back of the house with his laughter following her. How did he do that? She nervously rubbed her hands on her pants. One look, and she felt like a tar kettle on fire. Where were her well-practiced rebuffs? A few weeks ago, she’d have squashed such blatant come-ons like a gnat, and the poor man would have left her alone after that. But of course, Nick was a humongous gnat, and she laughed at her silliness. Another thing—where did this silliness come from?

Big plops of rain came down just as she climbed up onto the back porch. She waited for a minute or two, but he didn’t turn the corner.

“Nick?” she called over the rush of wind that usually signaled the beginning of a Florida summer storm. It was suddenly dark outside, all sunlight curtained off by rain-swollen clouds.

“Get inside, Jaymee. I’ll be there,” she heard him answer. Satisfied, she went into the kitchen to prepare a quick snack.

Finishing his task, Nick glanced around the front yard, ignoring the fast falling rain. He had an uneasy feeling he was being watched, and he scanned the terrain carefully. With the wind picking up, he couldn’t really see anything among the moving clumps of trees in the acreage. Big sheets of rain descended suddenly, ferociously, and he hurried to the back of the house. Too late, he was instantly drenched to the skin.

Jaymee took one look at him and shook her head. “What were you doing out there?” She put away the bread and screwed the cap back on the jar of mayonnaise. “Guess I’ll get you a towel first, and something dry to wear.”

She disappeared in the direction of her bedroom. Opportunity knocking, he quoted his favorite saying under his breath, and promptly followed her.

Jaymee had a suspicious inkling she was walking into a trap of her own making. He didn’t make a sound as he casually walked behind her, past the sofa in the living room, round the corner, past the spare bedroom. Her room at the back of the house was down a long corridor and it usually only took a minute from kitchen to bedroom door. Today it appeared to last forever as she trotted down seemingly narrowing walls.

She stopped outside, turned around and firmly said, “You can’t come in here. I’ll get the towel and a shirt.”

“I’ve been in there before,” he reminded her and came closer.

Was that thunder from outside or was that her heart? “Nicholas...you’re not making this easy,” she breathed out.

Nick gently reached behind her and opened the bedroom door. “Easy is laying shingles in the summer. Easy is working till you drop.” He backed her into her own room, drops of water trickling onto her dry clothes. “Handling me should be a piece of cake, Jaymee.”

Despite the precariousness of her situation, she couldn’t resist a small smile. “So you compare yourself to a job for me to handle?”

“Don’t you take care of every detail in your work?”

His drenched shirt contoured the muscles of his chest and stomach. His long hair, dripping wet and blown by the wind, looked like a mane. She could see the tic under his ear again, the sudden flair of his nostrils, the tightly-drawn passion on the plains of his face.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Don’t you make sure everything is perfect when it comes to your work?”

She couldn’t deny her obsession for getting things right. “I...try.”

“Don’t you remember everything there’s to know about every one of your roofs? The color, the square footage, down to the day you were on it?”

She stared into those blue-gray eyes, drawn by their seductive power. “Yes,” she said again.

Nick’s eyes became intensely, fiercely demanding. “That’s how I want you to handle me, Jaymee. As easily as you handle your perfect roofs.”

He didn’t have to tell her her time was up. He’d waited and patiently let her get used to him, as he had so arrogantly told her. It must be magic. He’d brought out the Jaymee she’d desperately tried to hide and now, he summoned her like a pagan witch calling for a spirit under his power. The rain outside drummed on the roof and danced against the windowpanes, like some incantation that rendered her powerless to this man. His foot kicked back, and the door behind him clicked shut.

Big Bad Wolf: Chapter Six

The bedroom was darkened by the storm outside, and Jaymee couldn’t see Nick’s face. In the shadows, his words coursed through her veins like warm brandy, and she felt hot and out of breath, like she’d been running fast. Except she couldn’t run any more. She realized he’d stalked her all this time, allowing her to move away only because he wanted to.

Now, with her bed behind her, the door shut, the rain a steady rhythm outside, and no job to finish, there was nowhere she could hide, no work for her to use as an excuse. With small, jerky movements, she backed away. Nick’s hand snaked out and held her arm, pulling her inexorably closer.

“Easy,” he repeated softly, as if she was a nervous mare. “Easy, sweet Jaymee. We’ll do it slow and easy.”

“You’re all wet,” she said belligerently.

Of course he was all wet. She was going to get him a towel and that was what got her into this situation. Her mind fought for control over the internal storm muddling through her system, as she allowed herself to be backed all the way into her bathroom.

“Dry me,” he murmured in that soft, gravelly tone of voice. The look in his eyes made her gut clenched. She swallowed.

Without thinking, she automatically pulled the towel hanging on a hook, then stupidly stared at the wet clothes on him. Her eyes followed the heaving motions of his chest, moving up to study with fascination the droplets of water that were still running down his strong neck, and still higher, all the way to the wet lock of dark hair curled over his forehead.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You have to take off my clothes first,” he whispered back. “Take care of me, Jaymee.”

She opened her mouth but words wouldn’t come. Instead, she pushed the toilet seat down and gestured at it. He sat, opening his long legs and pulling her between his thighs. She gave him a desperate look, mutely begging him to release her, but he only took the towel from her and then placed her hands on him, near the waistband of his jeans.

The glitter in his eyes seemed to pull at her. He had a power over her like no other man.

Jaymee found herself pulling the wet shirt out of his pants, tugging it as he helped her by lifting those muscular arms. Picking up the towel from his lap, she slowly rubbed his chest with it, one hand following the path of the towel. It was strangely empowering as she moved over him, taking her own time at it, exploring every part of him that had fascinated her. He was cool to the touch, and she pulled the towel languorously over his chest, then down those abs she was sure didn’t come from roofing work, her finger scraping over the little “outie” belly button. The feel of his skin—the texture, the softness of his body hair, the ridges in the abdominal muscles—mesmerized her. Had she ever felt a man’s body like this before? All power and promise and patience. For her. Just for her.

It was exciting to feel a man’s passion, and she reveled at his barely suppressed desire under her exploring hands. It moved like an electric current everywhere she caressed. Over the taut shoulders. Slowly down the broad back. And up the flat of his belly over his broad chest.

Nick kicked off his shoes and stood up, waiting. Her teeth biting down on her lower lip, Jaymee reached cautiously for the top button of his jeans, and his belly sucked in as she released it. Her fingers hesitated over the zipper. She stared with intrigued rapture as the bulge under the restricting material grew, daring her to touch it. He still didn’t say a word, just stood there, but she could hear his deep and harsh breathing.

For her.

She touched him, and heard a groan, but her eyes were riveted to the part of him that was pulsating under her hand. It felt impossibly huge, hidden from her, and she wanted to see him. Slowly, tentatively, she pulled at the zipper. He helped her with it, and she soon found out why.

Nick Langley wasn’t wearing any underwear. He was all male glory under those jeans and his erection sprang into her waiting hands. She gasped at its heat—a fierce, powerful arousal that called out to her, demanded her.

Nick’s eyes closed for a moment as he checked the immediate painful need to thrust into those small hands. Sweet baby Jesus, but the woman didn’t know the torture she was giving. With a smothered groan, he sat back down on the toilet seat. It was either that, or push her against some wall and go at her like a mad, lusting bull.

Instead he sat still, letting her take charge. Her hands were heavenly soft and wildly exciting. She touched him like a man wanted to be touched, with teasing gentleness mixed with a tinge of sadistic torture. At least, that was how he viewed it, as those hands moved down his hard length and cupped his softness, running her fingernails with unexpected mischief back to the tip where it was most sensitive. He growled, unable to bear it any more.

Startled, she looked up, a dreamy expression on her face. “You wanted me to take care of all the details,” she said, still stroking him.

He felt himself hardened even more at her words. “You’re doing an excellent job,” he told her, the harshness in the tone of his voice bringing a smile to her face.

He watched her pull at his jeans and he kicked them off. He wanted her naked and reached for her, but she surprised him by kneeling down between the vee of his thighs. All muscles tensed. It was all he could do not to growl again when she leaned down and tentatively tasted him.

That did it. No more.

Nick dragged her onto his lap. She sat willingly astride him, intimately pushing against his engorged need that was begging for release.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He removed the pins and barette in her hair, scattering them onto the tile floor. The heavy tresses flowed down in ringlets, just the way he wanted it.

“My big, bad wolf,” she whispered. “Not nice. Not safe.”

He’d warned her about that in the study. “And definitely never easy,” he admitted, and with one fluid motion, ripped her old tee-shirt to rags.

Her almond-shaped eyes grew huge as he impatiently pulled at her bra, snapping the material in half. He was still in control—barely. His turn to taste.

Jaymee gasped as he sucked at her nipple. His mouth felt shockingly hot, in contrast to the coolness of his skin. The pleasure zinged through her body. Wanting more, she rocked back, giving him more access, even as she pushed down against the rock-hard length burning so intimately against her. To know a man would want her so—the scent of clean male flesh, the feel of his heartbeat under her hand—was the most erotic sensation she had ever known. She whimpered at the sensuous assault of his mouth and tongue, and dug her nails into his shoulders.

In response, he wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and stood up, and she clung on as he strode back into the bedroom. Standing at the foot of her queen-size bed, she felt his hands grope the back of her Lycra pants and easily rip that apart too. Her body trembled with shock at the barely contained violence of his actions. He lowered them both onto the bed, and she lay there passively, staring up into the dark shadows of his face.