N. Walters - MacNamaras Lady

Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as they walked to the elevator. The door slid open as soon as she pressed the button and they stepped inside.

The silence thickened around them. Not uncomfortable. Almost anticipatory.

She kept glancing at T.S. For a man who’d been stabbed he was surprisingly steady on his feet. She was in worse shape than he was in that regard. Her legs were like jelly, threatening to give out on her any second. Of course, her high heels weren’t helping matters.

They got out of the elevator when they hit the third floor and walked down the corridor to her apartment, the carpet muffling the sound of their footsteps. The distance had never felt quite so long before. She had the end unit because it was slightly larger than the other apartments on the floor. When she tried to put her keys in the lock, they slipped from her fingers.

Before she could bend down to pick them up, T.S. was there, scooping them up. He didn’t hand them back to her, but found the right key and let them in. She stumbled forward and he caught her with his good arm.

The keys clanged as he tossed them into the Depression glass bowl on the entry table. The door closed with a solid thunk. The metal lock slid into place.

Missy swallowed hard as T.S. moved toward her. She took a step away and her back hit the wall. His eyes were intent on her face. They were dark amber and practically glowed as he studied her.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he told her.

Good to his word, he eased closer. Missy wasn’t certain she could handle his kiss. Not now. Not when she was so emotionally off balance.

Their mouths touched. Their lips barely grazed one another. It was a soft kiss. One that was an end onto itself, asking nothing, seeking nothing.

Missy burst into tears.

T.S. drew Missy into his arms. He’d been waiting to do it again since he’d seen her in the waiting room, looking so concerned about him. He kept his arms loose around her, not wanting her to feel confined. “It’s okay, babe.” He rocked her back and forth in his arms. He hated to see her like this. Missy was always so strong, so self-assured. But tonight had shaken that confidence.

She swiped at her eyes. Most of her makeup was long gone, but she still looked beautiful to him. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and offered him a watery smile. “I don’t usually lose it like that.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he solemnly promised. She gave a hiccup of laughter and her smile became more real.

As if suddenly realizing she was in his arms, she tried to take a step back. T.S. kept his arms locked loosely around her. “Give yourself another minute.” He kept his voice low and soft. She might not need the hug but he sure as hell did.

When he thought of her walking back to her car alone from the party he broke out into a cold sweat. What if he hadn’t decided to wait? What if she’d truly been alone? He didn’t want to contemplate what might have happened.

He pressed his hand against the small of her back, easing her forward until her head rested on his shoulder. She gave a sigh of relief and gave up the fight. Her arms slowly crept around his waist, hugging him.

In spite of the throbbing in his arm he felt great. Better than great. Missy was pressed against his body. Her chest rested against his. Her legs brushed his.

His dick sprang to attention. Oh yeah. Nothing wrong with that part of his anatomy. He brushed a light kiss against her temple while he continued to rub his hand up and down her spine. Calming her. Soothing them both.

She shivered and he frowned. Was she still chilled? In shock? Missy’s perfume mingled with sweat and a slight tinge of blood. A not so lovely reminder of their evening.

“You need to get a hot bath. You’re going to be sore tomorrow.” There might be no lasting injuries, but T.S. knew the psychological effects would reverberate for a long, long time.

“I will as soon as you’re gone.” She raised her head, took a deep breath and stepped back. This time he let her go.

He rubbed his hand over his jawline while he pondered how to tell her about his plans without having her blow her top. There was no way to do it. “I’m staying.” Blunt and to the point. Just like him.

“What?” Her eyes widened and she took another step back, which pissed him off. She should know by now he’d never hurt her.

“Look, you’ve been through a trauma. A shock.” He glanced around her apartment for the first time since entering. There was a fairly comfortable-looking sofa and two chairs in the living room area. The sofa was a rich, chocolate brown with overstuffed pillows. “I’ll sleep on the couch, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

“That’s ridiculous.” A spark ignited in her eyes. T.S. almost smiled at the flash of temper. That was more like his Missy.

He ignored the possessiveness of his words. He knew she wasn’t his. Not really. Not for keeps. And that was fine by him. He didn’t do commitment. But he sure as hell wanted right now with her. Beyond that, he simply wouldn’t feel right about leaving her alone. She might think she was fine but he knew better.

A trauma like she’d been through would come back at the most unexpected times. He was very familiar with nightmares and had plenty of demons of his own.

“It’s not ridiculous.” Feeling slightly lightheaded, he headed for one of the chairs and sank into it. He took a good look around Missy’s home. It was just like her. Classy.

A dark wood entertainment center sat across from the sofa and housed a flat screen television, a stereo and a DVR. A bookcase in the corner was filled with books and picture frames but it wasn’t overflowing. Everything looked as though it had a place. A rug in rich tones of brown, beige and green covered the hardwood floor. The small dining area was adjacent to the living room. A table and four chairs sat beneath a pewter and glass chandelier.

He glanced at Missy. She was still standing just beyond the front door with her coat still on and her purse over her shoulder. She looked slightly lost and bewildered. He shoved out of the chair and went to her. “It’s just for one night. You could use the company and, quite frankly, I could use someone to keep a watch on me.” He hated playing the sympathy card, but a man did what he had to do.

“Oh. Of course. I didn’t think of that. Of course you can sleep on the sofa.” She frowned. “Maybe you should take the bed and I’ll take the sofa.”

He had to close his eyes against the sight of her when she casually mentioned him taking the bed. It was all too easy for him to imagine sharing her bed, with her. The sheets would smell like her skin. Every muscle in his body tightened in anticipation. The pain in his arm was nothing compared to the throbbing of his cock.

He almost salivated at the thought of her naked skin pressed against his. After he’d tasted and touched every square inch of her delectable body, he could lie on his back and let her ride him. She could be in control of their passion, taking him as deep and as hard as she wanted.

His erection twitched, becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Thank God the ugly green top they’d given him at the hospital covered the front of his pants. He didn’t think Missy was ready to deal with his raging hard-on just yet.

He heard a light swoosh of fabric and tensed as her hand touched his good arm. “T.S.?”

He opened his eyes and drank in her concern like a parched man after forty days in the desert. “I’ll be fine, Missy. Promise.”

She nodded. “If you say so.” She looked around as if trying to figure out what she should do next.