Morning Man (17 page)

Dayna left him to his own devices and wandered down the short hallway, her mind wandering along with her. She visited his bathroom first, running her hand along the black and white shower curtain, picturing ripples of water cascading off his strapping shoulders and running down his gloriously naked body. She spied a square of terrycloth hanging over the towel bar and envied it. What she wouldn’t give to be his washcloth.

Taking another gulp of the potent cocktail to cool down, she skulked across the hall and poked her head in his bedroom. There wasn’t a lot of extra room between the four walls, but it had a dresser and an invitingly large bed, its rumpled sheets left in a tangle from when he’d gotten up that morning. Unable to resist the urge, she walked in and touched the slight indent in the right side of the mattress where he evidently slept. Her fingers trailed over the blue fitted sheet, up to his pillow as she saw them lying together, sweaty and spent, she lovingly surrounded by the sound and scent and sight of him. The vision of being in Tack’s arms was so vivid she could almost feel tiny, pulsing shocks of pleasure before realizing the wee spasms weren’t only in her imagination.

“Hey there.” His voice jarred her back to the present.

She spun around, embarrassed to have been caught red-handed stroking his bed linens.

“So, I guess the secret’s out. Now you know I don’t make my bed in the morning.”

“Not quite what I was thinking about,” she admitted, demurely sipping her drink. Her eyes fixed on him standing in the doorway, his arms above his head as he leaned in, his body ably filling the void between the frame.

“Do me a favor,” he said, his voice turning thick and husky. “Lie down.”

“Huh?” Her eyes widened.

“Lie across my bed. I want to see how you look on it.”

Heart pounding, Dayna rested her glass on the bedside table. She sat on the edge of the mattress, then lay back with her arms stretched above her, the coolness of the unmade sheets kissing her hot skin as her rising t-shirt bared a peek of midriff. Jutting her hips upward, she shifted into the middle of the bed, feeling the heat of his gaze as he finally entered the room like a panther stalking prey.

“Tell me, how’s it feel?”

She closed her eyes, unable to keep from writhing. “Mmm…real good.”

He put one knee up between her feet, the mattress dipping under his weight as he crawled onto the bed. He bent down, lightly grazing his lips against her bellybutton, tickling her with mind blowing sensations before he stretched out higher. “Looks real good too,” he said, his face hovering inches above hers.

Her hands slid up his thick, solid arms and over his shoulders as he lowered himself between her legs, kicking the blankets off the end of the bed. He buried his face against her shoulder and released a hot, humid groan into the curve of her neck as he began to grind against her. She laced her fingers in his hair as his hand slid underneath her shirt, smoothing up her skin until he reached her bra cup, squeezing her breast until she gasped. “Oh God, Tack, we shouldn’t play with fire like this,” she pleaded, while her body begged for something else altogether. She clutched at his back as he firmly pressed into her in all the right places, her trembling thighs completely giving way to ecstasy below him. She ached to be touched and taken right then, overcome with an agonizing need to feel him naked, to have him moving hard, heavy and hot on her, and–Oh God, please–in her.

He looked down, his nostrils flaring and his lust-filled eyes as dark as midnight. “Fuck the pact,” he said gruffly, his mouth descending on hers for a wild, voracious kiss.

She hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him close, sucking on his tongue until she nearly lost her mind. “Wait.” She finally forced herself away from his lips. “We can’t do this yet. We’ve made it nearly half way already.”

“It feels too good to stop now.” He panted, kissing his way down her body until his fervent mouth found a stiffened nipple and suckled hard through her clothes.

She moaned loudly before he moved to her other breast and continued tormenting her. “Oh fuck…Dick Cheney. Newt Gingrich. Uh, uh…Abe Lincoln.”

He lifted his head, his face hot and his breathing heavy. “Abe Lincoln?”

“Jeez, give me a break. I can’t think straight when you’re doing that.”

“That’s the whole point,” he said, lowering his mouth to her dampened shirt again. His hand slid between them, opening her jeans just enough to wedge inside. Snaking his fingers under the zipper, he cupped and massaged her intimately, sending her into a frenzy of need until the torment was too much to bear.

“Tack…no, we can’t.” She sucked in a breath of air, feeding her oxygen-deprived brain. “We have to stop before we can’t stop.”

Reluctantly, he pulled out his hand and she immediately lamented her stupid decision.

“I wish I didn’t want you so damn bad, sugar, but I can’t help myself.”

“I want you too, but we can’t just throw away twelve–” She stopped, interrupted by the thunderous growling of her empty stomach. Her eyes widened on his as it gurgled a second time. “Sorry. I’m famished.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Then we’d better get something in ya real soon,” he said, rolling his hips in a forward thrust.

She shuddered under him. “I thought you were making me something to eat.”

“You are something to eat.” He licked his lips, curling up into a devilish grin.

“Get off me!” She hoisted him up with a forceful push and he tumbled into a cackling heap beside her on the bed. When their laughter subsided, she turned to face him, sharing his pillow as they gazed soulfully into each other’s eyes.

He reached over and brushed a wisp of hair from her flushed cheek. “You are so beautiful,” he said with a sigh. “I would love to wake up next to this face every morning.”

She swallowed, feeling a deep pang that was definitely not hunger. “You really ought to be more careful saying sweet things like that, cowboy. Girls like me tend to believe them.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never said them to anyone before,” he said tenderly. “No one’s ever made me feel the way you do.”

If that was a lie, it was one of the best she’d ever heard. She put her hand on his face and stroked over his bristled jaw as she kissed him softly. Emotion welled within her and as she trembled, a tear spilled over and rolled down. “Please don’t say another word,” she whispered against his lips. “My heart just can’t take being broken again.” She kissed him once more before edging away, sitting up to fasten her jeans with her back turned so that Tack wouldn’t see her dampened cheeks. Sniffing back her unfallen tears, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “So, what happened to this great meal you promised me, huh? My stomach’s rumbling louder than a frickin’ NASCAR rally here.”

“Right,” he said, rolling to the other side of the mattress. “Before we got sidetracked, I came to say lunch was nearly ready.”

“Well, good,” she said, standing up and straightening her shirt. “Lead the way.”

* * * *

Dayna propped her arm up on the window frame, watching the scenery go by on their way to the station. “You know what we should do with a portion of the money we get from Bonnie?”

“You thinkin’ about Abel?”

She nodded. “I mean, what do I really need a whole six grand for, anyway? A couple, three thousand tops is the most I’ll need to put down first and last month’s rent and a security deposit somewhere.”

He glanced across the cab and held her gaze. “You’d really consider that?”

“Of course I would,” she said. “Nothing would feel more right than to be able to help his family out.”

Tack checked the side mirror and changed lanes, smiling as he thought about how amazing she was. “Would you like to meet Abel?”

“Are you serious?” She sat up straighter as her voice pitched with excitement. “You know I would.”

“Okay, well, um…I’m never quite sure when he’s going to be out there in the morning. Sometimes I miss him, sometimes he’s waiting for me. But maybe we can plan a day where I can introduce you to him.”

She nodded. “That would be great.”

“But you don’t go looking for him without me, all right? I’m not worried about Abel, I just don’t know what else or who else might be back there at four in the morning and I don’t want you ever finding out alone.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If I haven’t said it lately, I like the way you look out for me,” she said, reaching out to lace her fingers between his. “And you make one hell of a Monte Cristo. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

He chuckled. “The secret is the Emmental cheese.”

“And here I thought it was that nice blackish-burnt crust on the outside.”

“Hey, they weren’t burnt, they were just crispy. I thought you might like it with a little extra crunch.”

“You’re right, I did and it was delicious washed down with that second Bloody Mary, too. Thanks again.”

“Anytime, sugar,” he said, pulling into the station lot. Most of the parking stalls were taken by the sales and admin staff, so he just rolled up behind Dayna’s red Beetle. “Now bring those sweet lips over here and plant a good one on me before you go.”

She looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then leaned in and gave him a sweet, delicate kiss that lingered on their lips for several seconds. “Mmm…Rush Limbaugh,” she purred softly, her eyes still closed as she moved away.

She climbed out, waved goodbye, and walked around the front end of the truck when he suddenly heard her blood-curdling screech.

He leaned halfway out his open window. “Jesus, what’s the matter?”

She pointed to her car. “Somebody slashed my tires!”

* * * *

Tack crouched down for a closer look as Dayna inspected for damage around the car’s exterior. “Fuck,” she grumbled, counting three flats with visible puncture wounds.

He stood up and checked the vehicles parked on either side, then those within a close vicinity of her car. “Everyone else’s tires appear to be okay,” he said, returning to the spot where she stood.

“So it’s just me. Great.” A rush of panic pumped through her veins. “Now what am I supposed to do? I only have one spare in the trunk.”

He put his arm around her. “Okay, let’s just calm down. I’ll go get you three new tires and put them on for you.”

“But I can’t afford three new tires. They must be close to a hundred bucks each.”

He continued to stare at the deflated rubber on the pavement. “Then again, if you’re going to buy three, we might as well get four.”

Dayna scowled, balling her hands into tight fists of fury at her side. “Do the fucking math, Tack. I can’t afford to get three tires, let alone four.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she released her whitened knuckles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “We should probably call the police and report this in case it isn’t some random act.”

“We both know this isn’t some random act. This was definitely an on-purpose act deliberately targeting me,” she said. “I’m the slut from the billboard, remember?”

“Come here,” he said, gathering her close in his arms. “This has nothing to do with that. Chances are, it was some bored, punk-ass kid who did this.”

She shook her head as she nestled against his chest, trying not to cry. “I wish I could believe that. But I just know someone’s out to get me.”

“Look, let’s go inside and then figure out what to do,” he said, rubbing her back. “We were only gone a couple of hours, so it’s likely someone may have seen something.”

Dayna called the police from the phone in the jocks’ office, relaying her information to a desk sergeant as he filled out a report over the phone. He said they hadn’t had any other reports of vandalism in the neighborhood that day, but assured that the district patrol would keep an eye on things. As she hung up, Tack ambled in wearing an oddly disturbed expression. “Well? Did you find anything out?”

“I’ve got some good news and some not-so-great news,” he said, plunking down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “The good news is I just talked to Barry in sales. One of his accounts is a Volkswagen dealer, so he’s on the phone making a contra deal to get you four new tires pronto. No charge.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said, keeping a smile in reserve. “Now what about the not-so-great news?”

He sighed, pinching the pressure point on the bridge of his nose. “I also asked around to see if anyone noticed any strange activity in the parking lot today.”

“What did you find out? Tell me.”

“Dub said that when he ducked out for a smoke break, he saw a black guy in a shabby army jacket wandering around. Lisa from the creative department confirmed seeing the same person earlier.”

“Abel?” She sat stunned. “No. You don’t think?”

“There’s no way. He wouldn’t do something vicious like this.”

“From everything you’ve told me, Abel wouldn’t hurt a fly. And besides, he doesn’t even know who I am.” She slumped forward, resting her head down on the desk. “I hate knowing that somebody has it in for me.”

“There’s no reason to be paranoid,” he reminded her. “Even if by some far-out fluke it happened to be the same person who sent you that mail, they may not have it in for you, they may only be trying to send you a message.”