Wide Open (11 page)

HARPER

July 5th

Palmetto Warehouse

Los Angeles, CA

The room is dark and silent. The fireworks ended a long time ago, somewhere around my third orgasm and Kurtis’ second. He took his time with that one. He made it last for both of us, bringing us to the edge before retreating, only to race me there again. And again. I felt like friction when I finally leapt over the edge. I felt like light. Energy bursting in the dark, like a star being born. It was intense and exciting. And exhausting. I fell asleep immediately after. The last thing I remember is Kurtis pulling a soft blanket up over me, his chest against my back, and his arm draping heavily over my waist.

It’s still there.
He
is still there, and that fact is almost as mind-blowing as the sex. I expected him to run again. I thought I’d wake up alone in this room with the dawn staring down on me through the window, glowering in disapproval. And she’d be right. It was wrong to sleep with him. He’s a subject in my documentary. I’m supposed to keep my distance, stay impartial, but tell it to my body. She’s not the least bit sorry for what happened. She’d do it again if she got the chance.

He shifts behind me, his body tightening against mine before relaxing again, and I’m reminded that we’re both still naked. The hair on his chest is tickling rough on my back, his arm weighing heavy on my naked skin. His dick rising hard against my bare ass.

“You’re awake,” his voice rumbles through me.

“You’re still here,” I whisper in reply.

“Did you think I’d leave you naked and alone in a strange apartment in the middle of a party?”

“No, I guess not,” I answer, realizing just how dickish that would have been. “Thank you for staying.”

“I wanted to.” His hand caresses my side, lazily exploring the valley between my ribs and hip.

I laugh quietly. “So you could have another go when I woke up?”

“So I could be with you.”

My laughter dies in my throat, my smile fading fast. It’s a simple thing to say. A sweet thing. An open, honest thing. It is not a Kurtis Matthews thing.

I clear my throat. “What time is it?”

He lifts his arm to look at his watch. My skin feels cold and bereft without his touch. “It’s almost four.”

“No,” I moan. “Travis has probably been searching for me.”

“Unless he’s passed out somewhere.”

“He’s not a big drinker.”

“He was doing shots with Hollis when I left the roof.”

I turn onto my back to look at him. His face is cut in half by shadow, the stubble on his jaw dark as ink against his skin. My heart skips a beat, remembering how it scratched against the inside of my thighs. “Travis was taking shots?”

“Last time I saw.”

“How many had he had?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Three as far as I know.”

I laugh in amazement, staring up at the ceiling. “Wow. Maybe he
is
passed out somewhere. No way he was going to be able to drive us home after that.”

“I will.”

“You will what?”

“I’ll drive you home.”

I find his eyes waiting for me when I turn my head toward him again. He holds me steady, unwilling to let me look away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“But if we go out there together right now—“

“No one will see us together.”

“Someone is bound to be asleep on the couches out there. Someone will see us leave.”

“We won’t leave together. I’ll go first, and I promise you, no one will see me go.”

“You’re that sneaky, huh?”

He grins in a wicked way, and even though I can only catch half of it in the wan light of the room, it’s deliciously devilish. I want to kiss it. I want to lick it. I want to taste him again the way I did earlier tonight, and I suddenly can’t think of a single reason why I shouldn’t.

I touch the side of his face, feeling the bristle of his hair against my palm. Then it’s the soft brush of his lips against mine, the grin gone as he makes love to my mouth with the slow stroke of his tongue. It makes me faint, the way he kisses me. It confuses my blood, sending it every direction until I’m a puddle in his hands. His large, calloused hands on my ass and my back, grinding my body against his.

I’m stunned when he pulls back, his eyes telling me to slow down. To let him breathe.

“It’s getting late,” he warns me roughly. “We need to leave now if we want to get out unseen.”

“Do you really think we can?”

He grunts as he rolls over, rising off the bed. “Trust me. I’m good at staying out of sight. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“I do, you know.”

He frowns, turning to look down at me. “You do what?”

“Trust you.”

There’s no describing the look in Kurtis’ eyes when I tell him that. It’s too many things all at once, each one negating the other until his gaze is full of so much it turns into nothing; surprise, dread, joy, sadness, fear, resolve. Empty.

He looks away, scanning the floor for his swim trunks. “Let’s go.”

I watch him get dressed. I watch the smooth flow of his muscles under his skin, the sinuous way he moves across the room. He gathers my clothes for me, offering them to me without meeting my eyes. I’m surprised when he goes to the closet and pulls it open. I’m shocked when he actually finds something. He hands me a short summer dress that’s a size too small for me in the chest, but it fits well enough to wear and it covers me more than my bikini. I take it gratefully.

“How did you know this was there?” I ask as I tug it down over my body.

“I knew there would be women’s clothing in that closet the same way I knew there’d be condoms in the nightstand drawer. I know Colt Avery.”

“Pretty well for a guy who Avery described as ‘aloof as shit.”

Kurtis chuckles. “Is that what he told you?”

“In his interview, yeah. He said he doesn’t know anything about your life. That no one does.”

“Good. That means I’m doing something right.” He unlocks the door and pulls it open silently. A quick glance in the hall tells him we’re in the clear. “I’ll go out first. Count to ninety before you follow me. I’ll wait for you at the bottom of the stairs in the garage.”

“Does this all seem dramatic to you? A little too cloak and dagger for our age?”

“You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone to know we slept together.”

“Don’t do that,” I protest. “Don’t act like you’d be fine with everyone knowing. That’s your personal life and you don’t share that with anyone.”

“I shared it with you last night. Twice.”

“Shut up and get out,” I laugh, waving him out of the room.

It’s the weirdest, greatest thing to see him smile at me as he goes. He’s enjoying this. Enjoying
me
.

I try not to let that go to my head.

I use the bathroom when he’s gone. A quick clean-up, a spray of baby powder scented deodorant I find on the counter, and I figure it’s been at least ninety seconds. I take a deep breath as I stride out into the hall. I make sure to walk like nothing is amiss. Like I have nothing to hide.

The living room is peppered with snoring bodies. I count at least four on the couches and in chairs. I’m relieved to see that Travis is one of them. He’s curled up on a couch, a beach towel draped over him like a blanket. There’s a glass of water by his head and a bucket on the floor under his face. It doesn’t look like it’s been used yet, the glass is untouched, but someone has taken good care of him. Someone experienced with drunks.

“He’s yours, isn’t he?”

I gasp, turning on my heels so sharply my bare skin squeaks on the hardwood. Behind me in the kitchen is a guy I don’t know; tall and broad chested. Thick in a million different ways from his hair to his thighs. He’s wearing a pair of swim trunks and a sleeveless T-shirt with the Kodiak’s emblem printed on the front. His face is chiseled but genial, his eyes shockingly gentle for a man his size.

“He’s my friend, yeah,” I answer him, swallowing my fear response.

The guy takes a sip of what looks like apple juice. He has a plate in front of him covered in buttered toast and Spam slices, the salty scent heavy in the air around us. “He got shit faced. He was looking for you. Harper, right?”

“That’s me.” I frown, taking a step closer to him. His face is a stranger to me, but his voice is weirdly familiar. Like seeing a picture of a radio personality when all you’ve ever had to identify them by was their voice. “Have we met before?”

“Last night.”

“When?”

He grins. “When I went to war.”

It hits me immediately; the voice in the bathroom. I chuckle. “I’m glad to see you made it out alive.”

“It was a close call.” He offers me his hand over the island he’s eating at. “I’m Shane, but everyone calls me Lowry.”

I shake his hand. “Harper. Everyone calls me Harper.”

“You want some breakfast, Harper?”

“No, thanks. I was just leaving.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah,” I reply quickly, feeling my stomach in my throat. Did he see Kurtis leave? How could he not have? Then again, he was in the kitchen cooking and Kurtis is a ninja of the highest order. I hold out hope that he missed him.

“Do you need a ride?”

“No, I called a cab. It should be here soon. I should get going.” I glance over my shoulder at Travis. “If you’re still around when he wakes up, could you tell him I went home and that I’m safe?”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll be here a while. Some of us are playing ball in the park later. You are, though, right?”

“I am what?”

“Safe.”

I smile at him warmly. “I am. Don’t worry.”

“Good news. Take it easy, okay?”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks, Lowry.”

He salutes me with a chunk of Spam. “Anytime, Harper.”

I slip on my white flip flops at the door, hurrying out of the apartment before Travis wakes up and starts slurring questions. Outside is a shock to my system, the warm air heavier than the cool, controlled environment of the apartment. As I hurry down the stairs, my shoes slapping loudly against my feet, a sheen of sweat begins to build on my skin under the dress. It’s going to be hot today. Miserably so. I’ll do whatever I can to stay in my apartment glued to my AC unit, and I can’t imagine how it would feel to play football in the sun all afternoon. It’s probably all part of their conditioning, but these guys are insane. All of them.

Kurtis is true to his word; he’s waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He steps out of the shadows when I appear, falling in step next to me. He doesn’t touch me but I wish he would. I feel like leaning into him. Brushing against him. Taking hold of him. Mounting him.

“Did Lowry catch you?” he asks, his voice low and quiet, refusing to echo in the cavernous garage.

“He did. Did he see you?”

“No.”

“Shocking.”

“It’s a skill.”

“Teach it to me?”

“No.”

I laugh at his obstinacy. “Why not?”

“You don’t want to be unseen, Harper.” He looks sideways at me, his eyes lingering on my lips. “A woman like you, she needs to be seen. Anything else would be a crime.”

I can’t manage this side of him. I can’t categorize it. It’s sensitive and sweet. Poetic in a sad sort of way; his words flattering, his face heartbreaking. He says these wonderful things and I want to be moved, I want to be elated at his tenderness, but it’s like he’s warning me not to. Like he needs me to know he can’t stay this way.

He leads me to a far corner of the garage where a single vehicle sits alone in the faint scraps of morning cutting in through the exit. It’s a blue Trailblazer, older but clean. Polished to a startling shine.

“This is your car?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “What’d you expect? A Maserati?”

“No, nothing flashy, but nothing this normal either.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.”

“When you figure it out, let me know.”

“Deal.”

Kurtis pulls out his keys to unlock the passenger door for me. When it’s open he silently offers me a hand to help climb inside. I don’t need it but I take it, savoring the contact. The feel of his skin against mine. He closes my door for me before crossing around the front to his door. It’s been forever since I’ve been in a car without power door locks, but I remember my manners at the last minute, reaching across his seat to unlock his door for him. He smiles when he opens his door.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” I reply, settling back in my seat. “My grandpa had an old Packard that he’d take me out in sometimes. Power nothing in that car. It was all built to be original. He taught me to unlock the door, but only if the guy was gentleman enough to open mine first.”