Naked Choke (12 page)

“That’s what I’ve been missing?” she asked, surprise lacing her words. She lifted her fingers to cover her lips.

I took those fingers and brought them to my own lips and kissed the soft tips.

“That’s what we’ve both been missing.”

She crinkled her brow and looked away. “I didn’t know.”

I moved my head back into her sights. “Didn’t know?” I prodded.

“I didn’t know this was normal.”

I gently cupped her jaw in both my hands, made her look at me. “Baby, this isn’t normal at all.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t anywhere close to normal. With one kiss, I was ruined. Nothing would ever be the same again, and that was just a kiss!

“It’s not like this with the other women?”

I saw a hint of vulnerability in her eyes and I wanted to wipe that away. “What other women?” She fought my hold and I let her go. “I can’t erase my past any more than you can.”

“There’s…there’s been no one else.” She looked down at the front of my shirt. “Since my husband. Even then, I wasn't very good.”

I froze at her words, my body tensing and she sensed it, her eyes lifting to meet mine. “Who told you you weren’t any good?” When she glanced away, I tilted her chin back with my thumb, forced her to look at me. “Who?”

Her dark gaze held self-doubt. Disappointment. Worry. “My ex.”

I cursed under my breath, ready to go out and beat the shit of the fucker, wherever the hell he was, but Emory didn’t need my anger now and I sensed she thought I was upset with her.

“That kiss, baby, was hot. Seriously hot.”

She angled her head a fraction of an inch while furrowing her brow. “Then why…?”

“Tell me,” I urged when she cut off her question and bit her lip. If she thought she wasn’t enough for me, then I had to set her straight, here and now.

Looking at me through her long lashes, she asked, “Then why didn’t you touch me?”

I pushed off the counter to stand before her, forcing her head to tilt up. I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “I didn’t touch you because if I put my hands on you, I won’t stop.”

“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes shifting from wary to soft and a little bit tender.

“Yeah, oh. Look at you.” I pointed at her before crossing my arms, a safe place for them away from her. “Your hair is all tousled and smells like heaven, your mouth is all swollen from my kisses. Mine. I can’t miss your hard nipples through that skimpy little top and your legs. Jesus, your legs are spread and I ache to step between them again.”

Of course, as soon as I said all that she crossed her arms over her chest and clamped her legs shut. Good, now she could see how dangerous she was.

“You don’t mind that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“You think it bothers me that you’re inexperienced?” I ran my hand over the back of my neck when she nodded.

I smiled at her and my heart hurt, wishing I could chase the shadows away. I would. I would take all those feelings of self-doubt away, one kiss, one touch at a time.

“I’m going to love seeing what makes you hot.”

CHAPTER NINE

EMORY

“It’s been five days. Five days, Em, and now you’re telling me?” Christy pointed her fork at me. “I mean, he’s seriously hot.”

I glanced around, seeing if anyone else in the cafeteria was paying attention to us. I felt uncomfortable enough sharing the details about Gray with my friend, and didn’t want anyone else at the hospital to know either.

“I barely said more than goodbye at the party, and besides, it’s not like I left with him.” I stabbed my fork into the leftover pasta, spun the fork in circles so it wound around it.

“You went out to lunch with him and he was at your house for dinner last night!”

Thankfully, my mouth was full of the spaghetti from Casale’s so all I had to do was nod.

“Is he,” Christy looked left and right, then leaned in. “Is he…good?”

My cheeks heated a bit, but I was more amused than embarrassed. Then I thought about the kiss in my kitchen and I went a little hot and dreamy. That was the only one of the night, besides when he kissed my forehead when he left, at a tame hour of nine thirty.

“We haven’t done anything,” I replied. The kiss was mine, a little secret I shared with Gray and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin it by having Christy know about it.

“Is he gay?” her voice rose at the question and a few heads turned.

I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. “No.” I laughed because I’d questioned the same thing.  And the kiss we shared? He was definitely
not
gay.

“Then why not?”

I knew what she meant. Why not sleep with him?

“Is it because he’s…him?”

“I didn’t know who he was.” I glanced at my watch. I had fifteen minutes until I had to get back to the ER. Christy was still in administration, so while I sat there in a pair of pink scrubs, she wore a skirt and blouse.

Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. “You didn’t…even I know who he is! I mean…he’s the…The Green Machine.” She whispered his name and for that I was thankful. I didn’t need anyone to know I was even talking to Grayson Green, let alone seeing him. Or dating him, or whatever it was we were doing. We were kissing. No, we
kissed.
“He’s drop-dead gorgeous, if you go for that bad-boy fighter who’s hot as holy shit type. Have you seen all the women that hang all over him?”

The pasta in my mouth lost all its flavor. “
Of course
I’ve seen the women that hang all over him,” I countered, frowning.

She reached across the table and put her hand on top of mine. “Yes, but he’s interested in
you.
” Her grin made me relax. “When are you going to see him again?”

I shrugged, finishing my pasta. The meal had been delicious and even with a guy like Gray who ate at least twice as much as me, there was enough leftovers for the rest of the week.

“He has a meeting tonight, so we didn’t make plans.”

He had said he’d call me and he had said he’d see me soon, and while those lines were usually the death knoll for any possible future, the heat in Gray’s eyes when he said it, when he leaned in and gave me the sweetest of kisses on the top of my head, I believed him. I believed in the feelings I had when I was with him.

“Then come out with me tonight. Paul’s in New York for some deposition and I was going to go to the new Thai place with my friend Leah.”

I didn’t have other plans. I never made them for the final night of my three days of work because I was usually too tired and didn’t like backing out. This time though, dinner sounded good. Maybe it was because I knew Gray was busy and I was recognizing that I spent more time at home—alone—than I should. Maybe it was because I missed him and needed a diversion. “Sure.”

She must have suspected I’d say no, because she beamed at me when I gave her my answer. “I’ll make reservations for eight then. Is that enough time to get cleaned up?”

***

I was home and in bed by ten. Christy, unlike me, had to work in the morning. By the time we paid the check, I was done. Three twelve-hour shifts had me practically asleep on my feet. Once in bed, I didn’t even read as I normally would, but instead, turned the light out. I thought of Gray when I fell asleep, but it wasn’t thoughts of him that woke me.

A crash from downstairs had me sitting up, the orange glow from the streetlight filtering through the curtain. I listened and wondered if I had just heard someone in the alley when the noise came again. This time I was sure it was from inside the house, from the kitchen specifically. Someone must have come in through the back door.

Crap! I’d forgotten to replace the lightbulb back there so it was perfectly dark for someone to sneak in. I’d all but helped the guy!

Footsteps moved across the kitchen. I’d lived in the house over half my life; I knew the sounds it made. My heart lurched and fear coursed through me hot and fierce. Grabbing my cell charging on the bedside table, my fingers fumbled over the screen and I was able to dial 9-1-1. As I did so, I slid from the bed and neared the door, listened.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” The neutral voice came through the phone in my hand.

I didn’t respond because I heard shuffling feet, then swearing as the guy—the deepness of the voice was the giveaway—bumped into something in the dark. My parents had night-lights around the house when I was young, but when we moved in, Chris was too big for them and we never put them back.

The house was small enough that if I went down the steps to get out the front door, I would run into the guy. Another crash. Why was he here? I’d heard that people robbing wanted to get in and out without anyone the wiser, but this guy, he was either a bumbling idiot, or didn’t care if I knew he was there. This meant one thing. He wasn’t in the house for my TV. He was in the house for
me
.

“Hello? What is your emergency?” The voice was low, but it was insistent from the phone.

“Someone's in my house,” I whispered.

I glanced around my room. There was no weapon. My lamp, a shoe. I had no knife, no gun. Nothing! I heard the floor creak between the kitchen and the dining area. That board had creaked forever and I used to step over it when I would come in past my curfew. I
knew
that sound. I heard the operator talking but I didn't have time to respond. I had to get out of here.  How?

I was breathing quickly and quietly and I wondered if the guy could hear my heart beating; it was so loud in my ears. I looked to the window, my only way out. Then I remembered. Chris’ Boy Scout project. Moving quickly, tiptoeing across the wood floor, then the thick area rug, I squatted down by the rolled-up safety ladder. Emergency Preparedness had been his last merit badge before Eagle Scout and we’d had to make the house safe for different dangers. We’d put these ladders by the windows in each of our bedrooms, but with smoke alarms and the chance of fire being low, I hadn’t thought about them since then.

Now, I almost cried in relief at the sight. The window was open a few inches to let the summer air in, but I held my breath as I slid it up, more, more until it was enough to toss the ladder out and me to fit through. The rope was thin and unfurled down the brick to the ground. Chris and I had even practiced going down them a few times, taking pictures of our efforts for his merit badge counselor. Then, it had been daylight and I’d had all the time in the world. There also hadn't been a guy in my living room. With sweaty hands, I climbed out the window and got my feet on the rope. My cell fumbled and I almost lost my grip on it when I saw the hall light turn on.

Oh shit.

He was coming for me and didn’t care if I knew. With the ladder swinging and bumping into the exterior brick, I went down as fast as I could. I hit the ground and ran, my bare feet slapping the sidewalk.

“Hey!” I heard the shout and knew he was at my window. Oh God, he was going to get me. I ran down the street knowing the trees would have blocked me from his view, then ducked between two cars. I squatted down and tried to catch my breath and be as silent as possible.

Would he go down the ladder or go back downstairs and out the front door? Could he even find me?

I needed help. I was in my pajamas, barefoot with a man after me. I had to assume the police were coming. I looked down at the phone in my shaking hand. How had I not dropped it? As I escaped, I must have disconnected from 9-1-1. My fingers were really shaking as I unlocked my phone once again and fumbled to press and swipe to get it to work.

With a shaking hand, I put my phone to my ear. Answer.
Answer!
 

“Emory.”

I almost fainted in relief at the sound of Gray’s voice. While I needed the police, I
needed
Gray.
 

“
Grey
,” I whispered.

“What’s wrong?” His voice went from soft to hard in a second.

“There’s…in my house,” I whispered, unable to catch my breath, looking around. All I could see was the car grill and bumper in front of me, the steps of the house to the right and the empty street on the other side. “Kitchen. He—”

“There’s someone in your house?”

“
Yes!
”

Gray called to someone, said something, but I was too panicked to follow. “Emory, are you in the house now?”

I shook my head, my hair getting in my face, then realized he couldn’t see me. “No. I ran down the street. I’m hiding between cars. I called 9-1-1 but didn’t get a chance to talk.”

“Don’t move.” I heard car doors slam and I flinched, but it was through the phone. “Baby, we’re on the way. Reed called the police, too. Just listen to my voice. Okay?”

I didn’t know who the hell Reed was, but I didn’t care. Gray was coming. “Okay, but…hurry.”

GRAY

The second dinner with the PR rep went well, as much as a dinner meeting can go. Reed in a suit was hard to wrangle; he was more comfortable in MMA shorts and a T-shirt than a tie. I didn’t blame him. I’d chucked the tie onto the coffee table as soon as we got back to my apartment. With a full stomach, he couldn’t train, so we watched fight videos and talked strategy. The upcoming competition would be in a ring, but training was more than just practice fighting. I’d been relaxed on the sofa, my feet on the coffee table, remote in hand, when Emory called. The rush of pleasure at the sight of her name on the screen still surprised me.

I hadn’t expected to hear from her, knowing she was probably asleep after her third long day at work. I’d wanted to meet her at the ER when she was done, take her out to eat, but I’d had to do dinner with the sponsors of the fight. This was new to me, the excitement I had when I was with her, near her, or even thinking of her. I’d hoped she might be in bed, and wanting to tell me what she was wearing. I smiled as I took the call, but it slipped the instant I heard her voice.

Just one word, my name, and her fear was obvious. Jesus, there was a man in her house. Emory didn’t have any skills, any way to defend herself. I remembered how I'd had to show her how to hold her fists up in front of her. I was in my apartment and she was across town, hiding between parked cars.