Protector for Hire (17 page)

“What’s stupid?”

“The idea that I could spend my whole life as a city girl and a week in the Montana wilderness, and suddenly decide I could be anything other than a city girl.”

“You can be anything you want to be.”

“You believe that?”

He hesitated, not sure what she was driving at. “People can change. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, sometimes just for the sake of doing something different.”

“Right.” She bit her lip. “Or sometimes you realize someone was a certain way all along, but you made yourself believe they were the person you wanted them to be.”

Schwartz caught the bitter note in her voice and took a moment to digest her words. Then he reached out and put a hand on her knee. “Like maybe you really want your new husband to be an upstanding, wealthy pharmaceutical distributor, so that’s what you convinced yourself he was?”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and questioning. “How the hell could I not have known? I mean, seriously? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“With you?” He shook his head. “Did you run an international heroin importing ring?”

She frowned. “No.”

“Did you kill your business rivals in cold blood?”

“No.”

“Did you convince an amazing woman to marry you under false pretenses, then run around sticking your dick in other women and fathering an illegitimate child while your wife waited at home?”

She winced. “How did you—”

“Did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Did you refuse to let your wife go even after she divorced you, then stalk her relentlessly after she witnessed you murdering an unarmed man?”

Janelle shook her head, and looked down at her hands. Schwartz took his hand off her knee and reached for her hands, prompting her to look up again. “Honey, none of that was your fault. You’ve gotta believe that.”

“But what does it say about me if my judgment is so seriously flawed that I don’t realize the man I’d pledged to spend eternity with is someone who could do those things?”

“It says you’re a beautiful, trusting, sweet-natured woman who wants to believe the best about people. And you know what?”

“What?”

“That’s inspiring. For a lot of folks, anyway. It’s enough to make someone want to live up to your opinion of them. To be the sort of person someone like you can believe in.”

She blinked at him, her eyes relentlessly blue in contrast to the dried clay on her cheekbones. “Wow, Schwartz. That’s kinda deep.”

He snorted. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Seriously, you’re sweet.” She was smiling at him now, the easing tension making her shoulders drop. “And insightful.”

“Really, don’t tell anyone.”

She smiled. “I kinda want to kiss you right now.”

“It must be the mud. Very sexy.”

“We should probably wash it off.” She slid her hands out from under his and Schwartz felt a deep ache of longing. Of wanting to touch her again, not just her hands, but everywhere.

She met his eyes, and something inside him melted into a big, gooey puddle of love and desire and a whole lot of other emotions he hadn’t felt for years. Maybe ever.

Jesus. Why was he still fighting this? He’d honest to God forgotten, and seeing her sitting there with her breasts rising and falling under that tiny little tube top wasn’t doing much to jog his memory.

“You want to go first?” she asked.

“What?”

“In the bathroom. You want to shower first to wash the mud off, or should I go?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “It wasn’t a yes or no question, Schwartz.”

He got to his feet, then held out his hand. An invitation. She gave him a questioning look, then put her hands in his.

“I’m getting in the shower now,” he said slowly. “And I’d like to invite you to join me.”

She looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Schwartz held his breath. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. He could still take it back, just march off to the bathroom and take a nice, icy shower by himself.

Then a slow smile spread over her face, making tiny cracks in the gray clay, and Schwartz forgot all about taking anything back. Her eyes were warm and blue, and glinting with amusement and desire.

“Is this about water conservation, or something else?”

“Something else,” he said, closing his hands around hers and hauling her to her feet. “Something else entirely.”

Chapter Eleven

Janelle felt her heart thudding in her throat as Schwartz led her to the bathroom and let go of her hand just long enough to twist the taps on in the tiled shower.

He turned to look at her as the steam filled the space between them and the mirror grew foggy. “You’re okay with this?”

She nodded, a little shell-shocked by the whole thing. By the intensity in his eyes and the softness in his touch.

All this time, she’d thought any sexual encounter with Schwartz would involve frantic passion, something rough and hungry and urgent. She’d expected him to take her up against a wall with her legs wrapped around his hips and his massive hands pinning her wrists over her head.

But the man slowly skimming his palms down her waist and bending to slide her boots off was nothing at all like she’d expected.

He was better.

She rested her hands on his bare back, savoring the muscles and warm skin and solid heat of him as he unzipped the right boot, then the left. She stepped out of them as he rose again and touched a finger to the buttons on her jeans.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He smiled, the bristles of his whiskers breaking through the gray clay on his skin. He began unbuttoning her jeans, and she reached out to do the same for him. She pushed the denim down over his hips, feeling her own clothing sliding to the floor as the steam billowed around them.

She stood there in her panties now, and his hands went to the edge of her tube top. He seemed to hesitate, then tugged it down over her hips, taking her panties with it.

Then they were both naked, standing there on the rough slate floor with the scent of pine soap and warm earth drifting around them. She looked at him—really looked at him—and adored every inch of what she saw.

Some inches more than others.

“You’re sexy,” he said.

“So are you. But I think we’ll both be a lot sexier once we get this stuff off our faces.”

He laughed and took her hand again, reaching out with his other hand to test the water. Then he stepped into the shower, pulling her in behind him and moving aside to let her have the water.

“Ladies first,” he said as she turned her face into the spray and smoothed her palms over her face. The water was warm and Schwartz’s hands were solid on her hips, caressing her curves as she finished rinsing off and turned to face him.

“Your turn.”

She slid past him, her gaze dropping to the thick shaft of his cock. He was more than ready to get on with the business at hand, but he turned to the water instead, letting it sluice over his cheeks and forehead and hair. He closed his eyes, and Janelle let her gaze drift over his body, greedily taking him in. She was already familiar with the scar on his left cheek, but she saw others now. One snaked from the edge of his right hip bone all the way down to his knee. Another made a deep divot in his left calf. Big scars, deep ones.

But instead of detracting from the appeal of his body, they added to it. He was rugged and flawed and naked and glorious and all hers, at least for now.

She looked up to see him watching her.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“You’re beautiful.” She laughed. “I mean, if it’s okay to say that to a guy.”

“Honey, you can say whatever you want to me. Just say it with my hands all over your body.”

He reached for her again and Janelle gasped, feeling his big hands slide over her ribs, then down over her hips. He pulled her to him and she went willingly, turning her face up to meet his. She felt his lips touch hers, and any trace of hesitation was washed away like the clay.

The kiss was electric. Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer. His chest was hard and solid, tickling her bare breasts with the springy dusting of hair. His mouth was hot and urgent, and his palms felt huge in the small of her back.

She’d never had a kiss draw out like this one, soft and tender and wet and dizzying. Steam swirled around him, and she felt dazed from the heat, or maybe it was the kiss. She gasped as he moved his lips from hers and began kissing his way down her throat, her shoulders, her breasts. He lingered there, sliding his tongue over her nipples and making her mindless for what seemed like hours.

Then he dropped to his knees in front of her and looked up. “I’ve been dying to taste you,” he said. “May I?”

“God, yes.”

He laughed and cupped one hand over her backside, drawing her closer. Janelle gripped the tile soap dish, hoping like hell it was anchored in tight as his tongue delved into the cleft between her legs. She cried out and let her head fall back as the spray pelted her throat and Schwartz’s tongue dipped into her, tasting, swirling, probing.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, moaning as he continued making her delirious with his mouth. He slid one long finger into her and brushed something that made her eyes fly wide open.

“Holy God!” she gasped. “What the—”

The shower walls crashed down around her, or maybe that was all in her head. Everything seemed to be exploding at once, but all she could feel were sensations of pleasure, wave after glorious wave of it rolling into her as he licked and teased and stroked into her.

When he stood up again, she clung to him. It was partly affection, but partly the fact that she was pretty sure her legs wouldn’t work anymore.

“Jesus,” she murmured. “Where did you learn to do that?” She winced, shaking her head. “Never mind. Please don’t say your mother.”

“Definitely not.” He smiled at her as the water sluiced down his shoulders. He cupped her hips again, running his hands up her rib cage to cover her breasts. He planted a kiss on her forehead, then another on her shoulder and one more on the top of her left breast.

Janelle reached for his cock, closing her fingers snugly around the shaft. “If I turn around right now, will you slide inside me and make me scream up against the wall?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“But that’s not what I want to do.”

She frowned at him, her hand still gripping him as she tried not to let her disappointment show. “What do you want to do, play Scrabble?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Make no mistake, I want to make love to you so much I can’t stand it. Which is kinda the point.”

“What?”

“I don’t want us standing. I want to lie down in bed with you so I can stroke and lick and suck and kiss every square inch of your body. I want to make love to you for hours until we’re both so exhausted we fall asleep in each other’s arms. And then when we wake up, I want to do it again.”

“Oh,” she breathed, nodding. “Okay, I approve this plan.”

“I want to pleasure you the way you deserve to be pleasured, and yeah, I guess that is something I learned from my mother.” He grimaced. “That sounded seriously fucked up.”

She laughed and slid her hand up and down the length of him, making him groan. “You’re lucky I’ve heard your stories. Otherwise, I’d be out of here.”

She released him then and bent down to twist off the taps, deliberately skimming her breasts over the sensitive tip of him. He let out a strangled hiss as Janelle ran her hands up his thighs, pausing to plant a kiss on each hip. Then she stood, splaying her hands over his chest. “Shall we adjourn to the boudoir?”

“Hell, yes.”

She watched in a daze as turned to grab a fluffy towel off the hook just outside. He handed it to her without comment, and she dried off with what she could only assume was world-record speed. He did the same, then dropped his towel in a puddle on the shower floor before reaching for her.

“Come on,” he said, catching her hand in his so she dropped her towel, too.

She grinned. “Impatient much?”

“I’ve been waiting years for this.”

She started to point out that they’d known each other less than two weeks, but he was kissing her again before she could find the words. Then a different set of words echoed in her mind as they stumbled toward the bedroom.

I’ve been waiting years for this, too.

He kissed her hard as they reached the bedroom, but the ferocity of it turned gentle as the backs of her knees touched the edge of the bed. He pulled away, and for a moment, she thought he was having second thoughts. She reached for him again, ready to hold him here by force if he tried to flee.

But Schwartz just shook his head. “You’re so beautiful.” He stroked a finger over her cheek. “The most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.”

She laughed, thinking of her wet hair and chipped manicure and all the scrapes and scratches adorning her legs. But his expression was so earnest, so sincere, that she knew he meant every word of it.

“I want you,” she whispered, meaning that, too.

He cupped his whole palm over her cheek like he was memorizing her features by touch. Then he kissed her again, even softer this time, and Janelle closed her eyes to savor this new iteration of him.

She felt his arm hook around the small of her back and he lifted her off the ground like she weighed nothing at all. He laid her gently back on the bed, still kissing her with a gentle intensity that left her twining her fingers around his neck with the hope he’d never stop.

The weight of his body pressed her deep into the mattress, and she opened her legs so he could ease himself between them. She half expected him to slide inside her, but he didn’t. Not yet, anyway. He was too busy kissing her senseless, making her arch her body just to feel every square inch of him she could. She ran her fingers down his back, marveling at the size of him, at the startling contrast between bigness and tenderness.

She inched her legs open wider, an invitation. She felt the tip of him graze her opening, and she arched her back, desperate to draw him inside her.