Take Me Under (21 page)

His dark gaze smoldered with heat as he propped his hip against the sink and watched her bathe. But he didn’t join her in the coconut-scented bubbles when she invited him to, claiming that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her if he did. Reese knew he was worried about how she felt after the accident, but she hoped he didn’t plan on behaving himself for too long. If there was anything that would make her feel better, it was Ben’s powerful lovemaking.

When she was finished soaking, he helped her from the tub and dried her with a towel, his touch gentle and unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world, and she was glad it was a Saturday, which meant he didn’t need to go into work. He towel-dried her hair before brushing it out for her, the soothing strokes making her eyes go heavy, then bundled her back up in his bed. She slid between the sheets naked, watching him strip down to his boxers with a greedy, appreciative gaze, the way all those rippling muscles and long lines of sinew moved beneath his dark skin the most mouthwatering sight in the world. He was beyond gorgeous, so sinful and sexy and strong he looked like some kind of ancient warrior getting ready to fight . . . or fuck.

He crawled into bed with her, bracing himself on an elbow again as she lay on her back, staring up at him from beneath her lashes, fascinated by the heat and shadows in his heavy-lidded gaze. With one of his long legs tangling with hers beneath the covers, he tugged the sheet down to her waist and ran his hand up her side, a dark, decadent rumble in his throat as he curved his long fingers around her breast. Stroking the callused pad of his thumb over her nipple, he watched it tighten and flush with color. For over a week now, her body had been under his touch, and yet, she was no more accustomed to the heady, overwhelming sensation today than she had been that first night. A breathtaking current of awareness still shivered over her skin the instant he put his hands on her, her blood rushing through her veins, pulse quickening until it was a quiet roar in her ears.

“You have the most beautiful tits in the world,” he told her, his voice rough and low.

She couldn’t help but snicker. “Tits?”

His lips twitched, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slid his green gaze up to hers. “Tits. Jugs. Melons. Whatever you want to call them, yours are perfect.”

“It’s lovely that you think so.”

“I
know
so.”

Reading the doubt in her eyes, Ben lifted his hand to her face, pushing a lock of hair back from her brow. “Seriously, Reese. You’re so beautiful. Why can’t you see it?”

She shrugged self-consciously. “I’m freckled. And too fair.”

“Well, I can’t get enough of your freckles,” he said in a soft rasp, pressing a kiss to her nose, before pulling back and letting his hot gaze roam over her chest. “And I love the color of your skin.”

He pulled the sheet even lower, revealing the pale length of the leg she’d thrown over his. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. It was how Ben was looking at her. With so much heat. So much possessive intensity. With a guttural edge to his voice, he rubbed a careful hand over her bruised hip and said, “I love the way our bodies look together. Dark and light. It’s sexy as hell.”

“You really think so?”

“You’re damn right I do.” He lifted his gaze back to hers, and there was even more of an edge to his voice as he said, “I still can’t believe you put me off for so long.”

Reese lifted her brows. “
I
was the one who just invited you to join me in the tub.
You’re
the one who said no, Ben.”

“I’m not talking about today,” he explained, a crooked grin on his lips as he shook his head. “I’m talking about the last three years.”

“Oh.” She laughed softly. “It, uh, doesn’t count as putting you off when I had
no idea
that you were even interested.”

He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose, touched it to her chin, then down the front of her throat, sweeping it across her collarbone. “You should have known,” he told her, the slow, sensual stroke of his fingertip so at odds with the way he normally touched her. It was still sexual, but there was something
more
to it. Something that felt like . . . like
devotion
, of all things, and her head spun with the thought, her breath trapped in her chest.

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked, trailing that callused fingertip between her breasts. Her nipples instantly tightened in response, begging for the touch of his hand . . . the heat of his mouth.

She swallowed against the shivery feeling in her throat, and tried to steady her voice. “You mean the night of Gary’s thirtieth birthday party?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, watching his finger sweep across the underside of her breast.

She gave a soft snort. “You hardly said two words to me.”

The smile he flashed her was brief and sharp. “That’s because I was trying to keep from tossing you over my shoulder and running off with you.”

“You big liar,” she drawled, lifting her hand to his hair, the thick locks silky and warm.

“I swear to God. Just ask Michael. He kept ribbing me about getting a hard-on at a family event.” His voice got huskier. “But I couldn’t control myself. I saw you standing there in that sexy little black sundress, and all the blood in my body rushed straight from my head to my cock. I spent the whole night light-headed, and horny as hell.”

“Well, I doubt you suffered for long. Women were hanging all over you that night.”

He caught her hand just as she started to lower it, the look in his smoldering eyes making her melt. “I might have had other women over the years, but I can promise you one thing, Reese. Every time I was with one, I wished it was you.”

Oh, God
. She didn’t know what to think when he said things like that. When he looked at her the way he was looking at her at that moment. For a man who had never had a serious relationship in his life—who’d come into this thing between them offering her some fun and a lot of hot sex—he sometimes said the most incredibly romantic things.

“Ben . . . why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked, fighting to hold back the hot, emotional rush of tears burning at the backs of her eyes.

He let go of her hand, and she watched a flat smile twist the corner of his mouth. “What would have been the point? You belonged to another man.”

“I might have been married to him,” she said, shaking her head, “but I never belonged to him. He never wanted me like that.”

“Which just shows what a fucking idiot he is.”

She rolled onto her side, resting her cheek on her hands. “I think that deep down inside, Drew’s not a very happy person.”

“I don’t care what he is, so long as he stays the hell away from you.” Exhaling a rough breath, he added, “I hate it that he wants you back.”

A small smile touched her lips. “Yeah, well, even if that’s true, he can’t have me.”

“Damn right he can’t.” Ben pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then drew his head back, watching his thumb gently coast over her scraped cheek, before making himself pull away.

“Where are you going?” she asked, when he’d moved off the bed and back to his feet. He had to choke back a graveled curse when he caught her staring at the way his hard-on was tenting the front of his boxers, knowing damn well he shouldn’t touch her, since she needed her rest. But it wasn’t easy when she was lying there all sexy and soft and flushed, looking like she wanted it as badly as he did.

Pulling the sheet up over her, he had to swallow twice before he could answer her question. “It’s time for your pain meds.”

“But they’ll make me sleep,” she complained, clutching the sheet against her chest as she sat up.

“That’s what they’re meant to do,” he said with a brief smile, forcing himself to leave the room before he forgot his better intentions. He checked his phone quickly to make sure no one had tried to get in touch with him from work—he’d had Ryder put out a statewide alert for any trucks matching the description witnesses had given at the scene of the accident, and the station knew to contact him if anything was called in—then brought her the pills they’d picked up in the hospital pharmacy and a glass of water. He sat on the side of the bed as she swallowed the meds with the water, then took the glass from her and set it on the bedside table.

“This sucks,” she grumbled, sounding adorably miffed as she snuggled back down into the pillows. “I was enjoying talking to you.”

Climbing back into the bed with her, Ben stretched out on his back and pulled her close, a deep sense of satisfaction filling him as she cuddled against his side, resting her cheek on the front of his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told her, loving the way she curled her leg over his thigh as he stroked the feminine curve of her hip. “I’ll be right here in bed with you when you wake up. We can talk more then.”

“Fine.” A soft sigh slipped past her lips, and he could feel her starting to relax, before she quickly reached out and grabbed his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing her fear.

She didn’t look at him as she answered his question with one of her own. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to have me here?”

A frown hardened his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

Lifting her head, she took a quick breath and said, “If someone’s trying to hurt me, they could try to hurt you, too.”

“I hope the bastard is stupid enough to try. I’m not letting him get anywhere near you, but I’d kill for the chance to get my hands on him.”

“No! Ben, I’m serious. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Trust me. Nothing’s going to happen, honey. I know how to take care of myself.”

And it was true. She didn’t need to waste her time worrying about him. But as she grumbled about how he wasn’t taking her seriously, Ben found himself holding her a little closer, a warm glow burning deep in his chest. Yeah, he was a tough son of a bitch who could take care of himself. But he’d have been lying through his teeth if he’d said it didn’t feel good, knowing that she cared.

A guy could get addicted to feeling like this,
he thought, closing his eyes. And as the lazy sound of the ocean surf rumbled through an open bedroom window, Ben simply enjoyed the feel of her body next to his, in his arms, and thanked God that he hadn’t lost her.

* * *

R
EESE AWAKENED FROM ANOTHER NAP LATER THAT NIGHT, DROWSY AND
relaxed. Despite being a little sore in places, the pain meds were definitely doing their thing, and this had ended up being one of the most enjoyable days she’d ever had. When the sun had finally set, she and Ben had cuddled up on his sofa and watched an action flick together. Then he’d carried her back to his bed, given her more meds, and held her until she’d dozed back off. She didn’t know what time it was now, but he was still awake, sitting beside her in the sprawling bed. He was wearing nothing more than a pair of tight gray boxers, his hair still damp from a shower, so sexy she couldn’t have looked away to save her life. He had his broad shoulders braced against the dark wood of his headboard and his knees bent, his attention focused on a massive manila folder that was resting against his muscular thighs. The folder’s well-worn pages were illuminated by the soft glow of his bedside lamp.

“What are you reading?” she asked, sitting up and reaching for the glass of water that was sitting on her nightstand.

“It’s a case file.” There was a warm, sensual look in his eyes as he turned his head and swept that bottle green gaze over her tight-fitting tank top, before lifting it to her face. “One of my deputies brought it over a little while ago. My old partner in Miami had mailed it to the station.”

Curling up against the headboard, she took a sip of her water. “Anything interesting?”

It was on the tip of Ben’s tongue to blow her off, saying it was nothing important. But he knew that was just reflex. She’d been open and honest with him about her past, and he knew it was time that he started to do the same. But, damn it, he hated talking about this shit. It put a bad taste in his mouth and a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Forcing his jaw to relax, he told her, “It’s the file for the last case I worked as a detective.”

As if she sensed how new this was for him, she didn’t say anything or press him. She just sat there patiently waiting for him to go on, giving him time, letting him set the pace.

“We’d been working with vice to put this son of a bitch named Ryan Houghton away. He’s a big-time drug lord who relocated to the area about five years ago, and he’s about as far from the stereotype as you can get. We’re talking an all-American prep boy, like your ex. Lots of connections up in the Northeast, but he decided he liked the Miami sunshine.”

“I can remember hearing Houghton’s name in the news, but I never paid any attention to the story,” she murmured, setting her glass down, then turning back to him. “I didn’t know you were involved in the case, or I would have followed it. What happened?”

“We were investigating Houghton in connection with the murder of another local dealer, and it got ugly. When we went in with a warrant for his arrest, he was doped up on some bad PCP. According to his doctors, he had what they called ‘an extreme paranoid episode,’ seeing monsters and demons or some shit like that. All I know is that he came out shooting.”

Her face went ghostly pale. “At you and your partner?”

“At
everyone
in the goddamn house. He caught his wife in the leg, and I took the hits in my shoulder and chest protecting his seven-year-old daughter.”

“Ohmygod.” Her blue eyes were wide with shock as she reached out and touched his arm. “He was trying to kill his baby girl?”

He gave a bitter, humorless laugh. “He claims he didn’t know what he was doing, but the bastard aimed right at her. Then his legal team fed the media a ton of bullshit, and they managed to sway public opinion in Houghton’s favor, making him out to be some modern-day hero who’d been wronged by the department. How they put that kind of spin on it, I’ll never understand. But the DA ended up offering him a plea bargain that has him in minimum security with a chance for parole in two years.”