Several songs later, he put her to bed and tucked her in. Leaning down, he’d kissed her forehead. Afraid to do more. Afraid that the thin hold he had on his control would break. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, smiling down at her. “Sleep, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
Her big, gorgeous eyes stared back up at him, the blue turned silvery in the moonlight. “Goodnight, Crash.”
He walked to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of bourbon down and poured himself a shot. Downing it, he set the shot glass down, and stood with his palms on the counter, staring at the granite.
Shit.
For the first time in all of this, he wasn’t sure he could help her. Keep her safe? Yes. But this? What she was suffering? He wasn’t sure.
*****
An installer from the cable company showed up at the loft two days later. Crash let him in. Shannon, who was curled up on the sectional with a magazine, the kitten next to her, looked at Crash with a questioning frown, but didn’t say anything until the man had finished his job and left.
After he was gone, Shannon caught Crash’s eye, her brow raised.
He turned to her from where he stood by the island, his hands landing on his hips. “What?”
She grinned huge. “You got me cable.”
He grumbled, “Don’t be so happy about it, you paid for it.”
He couldn’t just be nice about it, she thought. No, he had to rub it in about the five thousand dollars she’d had to turn over to him. The loss of control of her own money had been one of the things that had irked her the most. Consequently, she took it out on him. Tossing the magazine to the side, she snapped back at him, “Well, at least I got something for my money!”
His hands dropped from his hips, and he advanced on her. “What’s the matter, Princess? You ain’t gettin’ enough for your money? Huh? I need to add a service to this job?”
Her eyes dropped to where his hands had raised to his belt buckle. She watched stunned as he began unbuckling the belt. Her hand came up, as if to ward him off, and her eyes lifted to his as he stood over her, stopping just in front of where she sat on the couch. “Crash, wait. I didn’t mean anything, I…”
“You just say the word, Princess, and I’ll be glad to service any needs you feel I’ve neglected. Wouldn’t want you thinkin’ you weren’t getting’ your money’s worth.”
She looked up at him, seeing the determined, uncompromising, hard line of his features. He stood over her. Powerful. Commanding. Intimidating. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it, Crash.”
He leaned over her, his palm landing on the back of the sofa. His nearness pressing her backward against the cushion, his face in hers. And all she could do was swallow and look up at him, her back pressed as deep into the sofa as she could get.
His eyes bore into hers. “You want your five grand back? You want to end this arrangement?”
She shook her head. “No, Crash.” He stared at her a long moment, and then she watched his eyes drop to her mouth. He seemed to struggle with something, and then he pulled back with a violent shove against the back of the couch, flinging himself up. He stalked across the loft, slamming the door as he went up on the roof.
*****
Three days later, Crash stood in the shower, the hot water beating over his skin, steam filling the bathroom. He thought of Shannon. For the last three days they’d barely spoken. Crash knew he should make an overture toward her, toward fixing things, but he couldn’t. It was better they were barely speaking. It helped him keep his distance from her. And that was becoming more difficult by the hour. There was a heightened sexual tension that had developed between them, which had the very air around them practically crackling. He was really starting to struggle with the fact that there was a woman staying at his place, sleeping in his bed and he wasn’t fucking her. Her things were everywhere, her scent was everywhere. It was beginning to drive him crazy. His nerves were strung so tight, and the hunger for her was so strong, it was becoming like a fire that burned day and night. One he was afraid he either had to completely extinguish or it would consume him.
And now it was Friday, and he knew he had to take her to that damn party tonight. He cursed Mack for pulling this bullshit. It served no purposed but to yank his chain. And make his job of looking out for Shannon that much harder.
Cursing, he slammed his left palm against the tile wall.
Angel was supposed to be coming over tonight to help her get ready. God only knew what outfit she’d come up with this time. She seemed determined to push them together, at least to drive him crazy. His mind drifted to those short shorts Shannon had worn to the BBQ and how they’d made her legs and ass look. Then his thoughts turned to what it had felt like to kiss her when he’d dragged her into the hallway to talk. Her sweet mouth had opened so gently and hesitantly at first, and it had only enflamed him higher, and then when he’d pressed his way in, her fiery response had thrilled him. His tongue had stroked hers, and she’d matched him stroke for stroke, her head tilting back, inviting him to drink his fill.
His right hand unconsciously closed over his dick, and he began stroking, thinking of how she had looked in his bed in that damn silk pajama set. Her honeyed skin luminous in the moonlight. He thought about how he imagined she’d look naked, sprawled in his bed, or naked in this shower pushed up against this tile wall, her skin glistening wet.
He groaned, stroking harder, his head bent, the water sluicing over him. As sexually charged as he was, it wasn’t long before he’d stroked himself into a grunting, clenching release.
True to her word, Angel showed up a few hours later to help Shannon get ready. It was a good thing too, because by that time Shannon had worked herself up into some kind of a state. Crash knew she was nervous about going tonight. He’d tried to reassure her that it was going to be okay. But fear of the unknown was clawing at her.
Angel had stepped out of the elevator with a bag of stuff in one hand, and a FedEx shipping box in the other. Crash had frowned, thinking that was odd, but afraid to ask. Angel then proceeded to hustle him out of the place, insisting he go on to Church, the club’s meeting, and she’d drop Shannon off later for the party.
With a quick look at Shannon, he’d nodded and left.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN