Lauren Blakely - Night After Night

“How?” she asked in a wobbly voice.

“Tell me why you’re scared. Tell me why you ran.”

She sighed heavily, shifting from her side to her back. She closed her eyes; her face seemed pinched. He ran his hand along her bare arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re here now. I’m here now. I want to know what I need to do so I don’t scare you away.”

She opened her eyes, turned back to face him. Her expression was softer now. “It’s nothing you can or can’t do. It’s me.”

“Right. It generally is. But tell me how I can help you be comfortable with you and me,” he said. “Because for a while there I was damn sure you were history. My friend Michele even said so in no uncertain terms.”

Like she’d been burned, Julia jerked away from him, sitting up straight. “Michele? Who’s Michele? Your ex?”

He laughed. “Michele is just a friend. Davis’ sister. Known her for years. She also happens to be a shrink.”

“You were talking to her about me?” Julia crossed her arms.

“Yes,” he said, tugging on her hips, trying to pull her back to lie next to him. But she scooted further away into the jumble of pillows by her headboard. “Hey, I was talking to her about you because I like you, woman. Get that straight.”

She narrowed her eyes. Fixed him with a harsh stare. But said nothing.

“And I was trying to understand you, and I still don’t entirely understand, so help a man out.”

“Fine, but I don’t want other women touching you,” she said sharply as she glared at him.

Another laugh took hold of him, deep and rumbling through his chest. It warmed him up, knowing how possessive she was. “I believe I’ve made it patently clear that I am a one-woman kind of man, and you are my kind of woman. But this conversation isn’t about me. I want to know what’s going on with you,” he said, succeeding this time in tugging her alongside him.

She took a breath, pursed her lips together, then exhaled. She looked him square in the eyes; her pretty greens were tinged with sadness and a trace of fear. His heart lurched towards her, wanting to help her, reassure her. She licked her lips, and spoke in a wobbly voice that grew stronger as she pushed through. “I’ve got some trouble from my past chasing me. And I can’t say anything more, because I don’t want you or anyone I care about to get caught up in my problems.”

He started to speak, to tell her he wasn’t afraid of problems, and he certainly didn’t expect anyone to come to a relationship baggage-free, but she held up her hand to silence him.

“Eventually, I’ll be free of it, but right now there’s just stuff I have to deal with, and that’s why I left so quickly,” she said, her voice raw and pained. “I’m sorry.”

“Is somebody hurting you?” he asked, clenching his fists as he kept his voice on an even keel. He didn’t want to scare her, but he sure as hell would scare anyone who laid a hand on her.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Nor do I have a pill problem or anything like your ex, I swear.” She gripped his bicep, digging her fingers into his flesh to make her point. “I promise.”

“That is excellent news. But what sort of trouble is it, then?”

“Clay,” she said, soft, but insistent in her tone. “That’s all I want to say. I have to keep the people I care about out of it. And I care about you. So deeply, and more than I ever thought I would,” she said, reaching for his hand, and threading her soft fingers through his. “So much more,” she added, squeezing his hand for emphasis, and her touch sent a shiver through him. She kissed his hand. By god, he could get used to this side of her. He would love to see this part of her every day. “It’s my problem to deal with, and I’m dealing with it.”

He wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure she’d let him so he tried another way to understand the scope of this problem. “Is it something I should be worried about?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow, studying her face, trying to read her. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but something in his gut said she was telling the truth. Or maybe he just wanted to believe her. Maybe he could . For now, at least. “Okay, I will try my best not to worry for now then,” he said, though he knew that would be a tall order because already – deep in his gut – he was concerned for her, for everything about her. He wanted to protect her, look out for her. That she was hardly the kind of woman who needed taking care didn’t factor into his thinking one bit. She was his and he couldn’t abide by anyone hurting her.

“Good,” she said, and her face lit up again, her mischievous grin reappearing as she danced her fingers down his chest. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise late-night visit?”

“In town for a meeting. I’m seeing Chris tomorrow about his renegotiations.”

“McKenna didn’t mention it to me.”

He tapped her nose. “It was last-minute. Just scheduled it today and caught an evening flight. I’m heading to L.A. early afternoon, so I’m squeezing the meeting in beforehand.”

“I am glad you squeezed me in,” she said, her hand darting to the waistband of his pants. “Now, have I successfully convinced you to take these off and spend the night with me? I’m not much of a cook but I do know where I can take you tomorrow morning for some fantastic pancakes.”

He pretended to think deeply about the food. “I do love pancakes.”

“And spending the night with me. You better love that too,” she said, playfully swatting him.

“I believe I could find it in me to enjoy another night with you.”

“Wait. Where’s your bag?”

“In the town car. Driver’s waiting outside.”

“So you could make a getaway?”

He shook his head. “Gorgeous, when is it going to get through to you that I’m not the one who’s running? Nor am I a presumptuous asshole who’s going to show up at your doorstep with an overnight bag unless you want me to.”

“I want you to,” she said in a sexy purr.

He dialed his driver, and a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Clay retrieved his bag, tipped the driver and said goodnight. He returned to Julia’s room to find her leaning against the wall, her shirt shucked off and her stockings removed, wearing only her red pumps. Her hips jutted out seductively and his dick rose to full attention as he drank in the sight of her, the moonlight casting midnight blue shadows across her long and lean body, highlighting her curves.

“You didn’t think I was going to bed, did you?”

“Not for a second.”

“I want to show you one of my favorite positions.”

“I have a feeling it’s going to be one of my favorite positions too,” he said as he kicked off his pants, and placed them on a chocolate brown chair in the corner of her bedroom.

She pointed to the bed. “Take off the briefs, and sit down.”

“At your service,” he said, stripping off his final layer, and parking himself on the edge of her bed. She looked him over from head to toe, and he wasn’t going to deny it – the hunger in her eyes was the biggest turn-on of his life. She stared at him like she’d never wanted anyone so much. As if she had never laid eyes on a man she wanted to feast on like this. Tremors rolled through him, and he ached with desire for her. A low growl took hold in his chest as she strutted over to him. The sight of her gorgeous body was something he’d never get enough of. She stopped, placing her hands on his shoulders, leaning into him so her breasts brushed his face. A bolt of heat tore through him, and he reached for her, craving closeness, needing her beautiful body pressed against his. But she pulled back, wagging her finger, then walked away, heading for her nightstand. She grabbed the purple scarf and returned.