The noise he made, like he was settling in, almost a guttural purr, sent ripples of electricity through me like a pinball, bouncing off nerve endings and causing an excited tremble that sparked over my skin.
Worst. Timing. Ever.
If I were at home, and found him at a bar, I would have had him in the bathroom pressed up against a stall or bent over the sink. I’d be done and sated and––
“You need to give me ten minutes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just sit still. Can you do that? Sit still?”
Could I—what? “Of course I can sit––”
“Good,” he whispered, the sound rough and raspy. His nose bumped against the side of my neck, the warmth of him, all of it combined was drugging, totally overwhelming my senses and making me pliant and agreeable. I wouldn’t have moved for anything less than a threat to his life. Or Brig’s.
Maybe.
I might leave him for Brig, since I was working after all, but I’d really have to weigh the threat. Like, it would need to be much higher than the Digby Ingram incident.
On the other hand, if someone tried to hurt Dallas…I’d eviscerate them. It was a scary thought. Not the idea of controlling a threat—that was part of my job—but my bristling at the mere thought of Dallas in danger.
I wanted to protect him. What in the world was that about?
“I haven’t slept in…days,” he said with a yawn before his hand on my thigh relaxed and he slouched into me.
Being used for a pillow should not have been sexy, but somehow the action equaled trust in my mind. He knew I would keep both him and Brig safe, and it was messing with my head. Normally, on a job, nothing tempted me, but everything about him was vulnerable and sexy, and wanting to take care of him was working on me on a very primal level. It wasn’t my usual. Sex had always been calculated, something I wanted but didn’t need. But something was different. Like if I were ever lucky enough to be in bed with Dallas Bauer, leaving him would not be an option. The urge to use a ridiculous word like “mine” had never occurred to me before. But right then, as I slowly lifted my arm and he leaned sideways into me, as I tucked him into my side, the desire to keep him locked into place.
I needed to go home as soon as possible.
Dozing there on the couch, I had a front row seat to Astor walking toward the front door with Nolan in tow, rolling her suitcase behind him and carrying her garment bag. It did not escape my notice that she looked flushed, or that her hair was no longer in the perfect French twist it had been when I left her. She looked tousled, maybe even a bit ravished. It also didn’t escape my notice that Nolan looked the same. When she scanned the room, found me, and lifted her hand, I gestured for her to come.
“So?” I asked as she stood over me, noting how swollen her lips were.
“I…might have miscalculated.”
“Oh?” I asked innocently.
She cleared her throat. “Nolan and I…we’re going to talk on the plane home.”
“Well, good.”
She sucked in a breath.
“You have concerns,” I said flatly.
“Isn’t it terribly bad form to even consider starting a relationship with Brig’s brother?”
“Not if Nolan was the brother you were supposed to be with all along, and you just didn’t realize it until he gave you a kiss that curled your toes.”
She thought about that a moment.
I met her gaze and held it. “Do you have a problem with it, or is it that you care what other people will think?”
She remained quiet.
“If it’s the latter,” I said with a shrug, “they can go to hell. You and Nolan are the only ones who matter.”
She nodded.
I tipped my head at her. “You look like you wouldn’t mind more of the kissing.”
“Yes,” she said, pinking up quickly again—her cheeks, her throat—as she pressed her lips together tightly.
“May I ask a personal, and probably impertinent, question?”
Her shoulders fell. “Yes,” she agreed, and I got a trace of a smile. “Because, somehow or other, I feel like we could be friends.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
“And so?” she demanded, sounding haughty even after the declaration of intended comradery. “Speak.”
“Has anyone ever kissed you the way Nolan just did?”
She turned to look across the room at Nolan Stanton then, and as soon as he saw that her gaze was on him, the man lit up. His face, his eyes, and it was obvious that she had it, all his interest, all his desire, and all his warm, tender feelings.
“Think about it before you make up your mind.”
Her eyes were back on me. “Yes.”
“Let me give you my number,” I said, which was unlike me. I never invited anyone in. If people wanted to speak to me, they could track me down. Why was I…