Page 20 of Wanted


  I thought of what went down in the alley and could easily imagine him protecting the girls. I hoped the man's face looked one hell of a lot worse than Evan's knuckles.

  I kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad."

  He met my eyes and held them, and the moment had the quality of a salute. As if he not only approved of my words, but I'd passed some sort of test. He smiled, just a little, then he laid his head back and closed his eyes. I settled against him. Even though it was still ridiculously early, I knew that sleep would elude me. I wasn't yet awake, but at the same time I was full of energy.

  I let my fingers explore his body, stroking his chest, easing up his arm. The vibrant green of the vine tattoo popped in the dim light, and I traced its outline with my fingertip, feeling relaxed and lazy and so very comfortable with this man. "Does it mean something?"

  He turned his head toward me, his eyes barely open.

  "It's a reminder," he said. "Let's just say it keeps me focused."

  I waited for him to say more, but he just turned his head back and closed his eyes again.

  I thought of what Jahn had said so many years ago--about how Evan had secrets. His own, and those he keeps for others.

  I might have guessed at some of his secrets, but as I looked at Evan, resting peacefully beside me, I had to acknowledge that I didn't really know the man at all.

  But, damn me, I wanted to. I so very desperately wanted to.

  I woke again a few hours later to the incredible scent of coffee and the even more incredible man smiling down at me.

  "Hey," he said, passing me the mug. "Drink up. Get dressed. We need to get going."

  I blinked at him. "Going? Where?"

  "Do you trust me?"

  "Yes," I said, without hesitation.

  "Then you'll see when we get there."

  I took a long sip of coffee and felt life returning. "Do I have time for a shower?"

  "A quick one," he said.

  "Do I have time for a shower with you?"

  He laughed. "That wouldn't be quick." He leaned over and kissed me, long and deep and so scrumptious it curled through me, setting me just a little bit on fire. Yeah, I thought. It wouldn't be quick at all. "Now go," he said, taking the mug and then tugging the sheet off me as I squealed and scrambled out of bed.

  He patted my ass as I hurried by, and I paused long enough to shoot him a saucy grin. "Naked and soapy," I said. "But I guess you're going to miss it all."

  "Vixen," he said, then laughed.

  When Uncle Jahn had remodeled the penthouse, he'd wanted every guest to feel as much at home as Jahn himself did. And to that end, he'd focused on making each of the four guest suites as stunning as possible. Each had a bedroom that was beyond gigantic with a full wall of windows with a view of either the lake or the city. The bedroom abutted an adjacent sitting area complete with decadent furniture, a wet bar, and the most important of all essentials: the coffee station.

  But it was in the bathrooms that Jahn's generosity really shined. Unlike most homes in which only the master suite had a bathroom with bells and whistles, in Jahn's condo, every guest was treated as royalty, too. And the bathroom that had become mine when I'd moved in and selected my suite was absolutely my most favorite room in the entire penthouse.

  The walls were a combination of dark teak and white marble with pinkish veins that gave the room a classical yet slightly funky feel. The shower stall was bigger than the entire bathroom in the apartment I'd shared with Flynn and had a line of showerheads descending from floor to ceiling, and two other lines arching out for almost 360 degree coverage. Teak benches lined two walls of the stall, and except for the glass door and one glass wall, the walls were made up of that marble I loved so much.

  The glass wall looked in on the sauna that was positioned beside the shower, and next to that was a steam room. Adding to the spa-like theme, there was a giant whirlpool tub, an entertainment center with the television hidden behind the huge mirror, and a beverage center, complete with a carbonated water dispenser and a wine fridge.

  When you also considered the dressing-room-style closet--which would comfortably house a family of five--the bathroom crossed the line from freaking awesome to fan-fucking-tastic.

  The only thing what would make it better was if Evan was with me, but if time was an issue I had to concede that it was probably for the best that he'd declined my offer.

  Still ... he was on my mind as I turned on the ceiling-mounted rain-shower head, then brushed my teeth while I waited for the water temperature to adjust. He was even more in my thoughts when I stepped into the warm, wet spray.

  I tilted my face up, letting the water run over my skin and soak my hair. There was a shampoo dispenser in the wall, and I put some into my hand, then rubbed it over my head. My hair was thick enough that it took a while to soap it up well, and even longer to thoroughly rinse it. I closed my eyes and let the water fall onto my face and then sluice down my body in warm trails.

  I didn't hear him come in, but even before he touched me I knew he was there. Maybe it was a shift in the ambient noise. Maybe there was a change in the light. Or maybe I was just attuned to his presence, connected to him now as I'd never been to anyone before.

  All I know is that I felt no surprise when he pressed up behind me, his erection teasing my rear as his hands cupped my breasts.

  Neither of us said a word, but I leaned back as he stroked me, his strong hands playing with my breasts, his fingers teasing my nipples. He trailed one hand down my belly to find me slick and wet and ready. His fingers stroked me, filling me, and finding my sensitive clit, and I gasped as he brushed his finger over it, sending ripples of warmth coursing through me.

  His fingers played with me, moving slowly and sensually in teasing strokes designed to drive me wild, and he kept it up with minute attention until I knew that it was a good thing he was holding me upright, because my legs felt so weak I knew I would collapse if he even thought about letting go.

  I was so close to release that I actually whimpered when he pulled his hand away, but he wasn't done with me. He moved me forward, bending me at the waist and putting my hands on the wall. Still, he said nothing, and I smiled as I stood there, my hands on the warm stone, my rear pressed up against him. He stroked my back, his hands sliding down either side of me until he reached my hips. He used his knee to ease my legs slightly wider, and then--as I closed my eyes in sweet anticipation--he slid his cock deep into me.

  I was so wet, so damn ready, that he entered easily, my muscles contracting to draw him in farther, as if he were part of me. As if in the short time since he'd last been inside me I'd lost a part of myself. His thrusts were deep and powerful and demanding, and I could feel his body tense as he got closer and closer.

  I took one hand off the wall, then slid it between my legs, finding my clit and stroking it faster and faster in time with his thrusts. Water sluiced over us, but I felt none of it. All I could feel was my hand upon my clit and Evan's cock inside me. I was reduced to nothing but the sensation of sex, of coming release, of the electricity that now concentrated between my legs like a single vibrant point that was growing and throbbing and threatening to burst free, as if there was no way that so much pleasure could be held enclosed in anything smaller than the universe.

  And then Evan was coming, his hands tight on my hips as he tugged me even closer, our bodies slapping wildly together as he emptied himself inside me, taking me to my own release as that vibrant point exploded out, making my entire body sing and tingle, all the way to my toes and my fingertips.

  I pressed both hands against the wall again, gasping and spent. I wasn't certain I could ever move again. Then Evan pulled out of me and he turned me around and I moved obediently, draping my arms around his neck and pressing my head to his chest as he used a washcloth to gently soap me up and then adjusted the rest of the showerheads to rinse us both completely.

  "I thought you said we'd be late," I murmured when he was done ministering to me
.

  "I imagine we will," he said. He kissed me so soundly that my body fired all over again. "It was worth it."

  Yeah, I thought as I clung tight to him, it was.

  I still felt boneless when we emerged from the shower moments later. I sank down beside him on the upholstered bench, my head leaning against his shoulder. "You've melted me," I said, though there wasn't a hint of complaint in my voice.

  "You managed to destroy me pretty completely, too," he said. "Should we blow off my surprise?"

  "Is it a good surprise?"

  "The best," he said.

  "Then no." With effort, I forced myself to stand, then held out a hand to help him rise. "But I warn you. My standards are high. If it's not the best, there will be consequences."

  "I'll keep that in mind," he said seriously.

  Since he wouldn't tell me where we were going, getting dressed was a bit of a challenge. But he swore that the flirty dress and sandals I picked out were perfect. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail with a few loose tendrils framing my face, then swiped on some mascara and lip gloss and called myself ready.

  "Perfect," he said, returning to my bedroom after leaving to change clothes himself. He wore jeans and loafers now, with a casual jacket over a simple white T-shirt.

  "You couldn't possibly have had an entire outfit in your briefcase."

  "No. In my suite."

  "You have a suite? If I'd realized, I wouldn't have let you share mine last night."

  "Don't even joke about kicking me out of your bed. And yeah, Cole and Tyler and I crashed here quite a bit. Jahn gave us each a drawer."

  "A drawer," I teased. "That's serious."

  "It was," he said. "The man was like a father to me."

  I might have been playing, but I could tell that Evan was serious. "What about your own dad? I mean, you were old enough when he died. Surely you remember him."

  "I remember him," he said, his words like ice. "He was a goddamn bastard."

  "I'm sorry," I said, knowing my words were inadequate. The press had painted a picture of a happy family struck by tragedy. Now I tried to revise my perception to picture a broken family that had been even more destroyed with the death of Evan's father. A man who, from what I was guessing, hadn't exactly been around for his wife or kids.

  I tried to imagine not having my dad, and the thought left a huge hollow spot in my gut.

  I went to him and took his hand, then rose up to brush a kiss over his lips. "In that case," I said, "I'm even more glad you had Jahn."

  We headed out, and to my surprise, Evan stopped the elevator on the lobby level instead of descending all the way to the parking garage.

  "No car?"

  "It's reasonably close. We'll take a taxi."

  "Close," I said, running various options through my head.

  "Don't even try. I'll only be disappointed if you manage to guess."

  I laughed. "Fair enough," I said as a taxi pulled up in response to the call light. Evan stepped off the curb to open the door for me, then walked around and got in on the opposite side.

  "One thing I forgot to mention," he said, as he settled in beside me. "I'd like you to put this on." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black sleep mask with an elastic strap.

  I peered at it dubiously. "Seriously?"

  He just looked at me, not answering.

  "Evan!"

  "Hey, if you don't want to ..." He trailed off, then leaned forward and told the taxi driver to take us back to the condo.

  I goggled at him. "What are you doing?"

  "Rules are rules."

  "Fine," I said, snatching it out of his hands. I slid the mask on over my eyes. And in the moment before the world disappeared from sight, I was pretty sure that I caught the driver's smirk in the rearview window.

  "Better?" I asked.

  "Much," Evan said.

  "And you're not going to even give me a clue?"

  "Not even," he said.

  "I know this area pretty well. I could probably count stops and turns. I've watched enough espionage thrillers to know how that works."

  He laughed. "Good point." He sat silent for a moment, and then I felt him drape something across my lap. "You look a little cold," he said. "Let me warm you up."

  I started to tell him that my legs weren't cold, but in that same instant I felt his hand upon my thigh. I realized as he gently stroked my skin--easing his fingers higher and higher toward the mid-thigh hemline of my dress--that he hadn't put the jacket there to keep me warm, but to give us privacy.

  He eased the hem higher, and it was all I could do not to whimper. I felt on fire, my thighs craving more of his touch, my sex so sensitive that even the slight rubbing of my panties against my flesh in time with the movement of the car was making me hot. And, so help me, the fact that I was blindfolded and we were in the back of a taxi, not four feet away from some anonymous driver made the whole thing that much more arousing.

  "Evan," I said, because we should stop even though I didn't want to. Even though I wanted this rush. This heat.

  "Hmm?"

  "What are you doing?"

  "Distracting you so you can't count turns," he said, even as his finger slipped under the tiny strip of material that made up the thong part of my teeny-tiny panties.

  "Oh." My breath was a gasp, the word forced out even as he slid his finger inside me. "Oh, well, um, okay."

  He chuckled. "Just relax, sweetheart. We're close."

  "Yes," I said, because he was right. I was close, so damn close, but he was keeping me on the edge, slipping his finger in and out, making me wetter and wetter, playing and teasing and trailing a soft fingertip all over my sex, between my legs, on the soft skin between my cunt and my thighs. But though his touch fired my senses and made me crave more, it was more that he denied me.

  He was deliberately avoiding my clit, and I had no way of complaining. I couldn't say a word--I couldn't even shift my hips and writhe in silent demand--unless I wanted to advertise what was going on to the driver. And, yeah, he might already be clued in, but since I was blindfolded I was happy to live in the fantasy that he was completely oblivious.

  Which meant I had to sit there, perfectly still, as Evan's fingertips played me as skillfully as an instrument. As my body warmed. As every inch of my skin became so sensitive that every tiny hair seemed to send sparks shooting through me.

  By the time the taxi finally pulled up in front of our mystery destination, I was taut and ready and totally primed.

  I didn't know where we were going, but I really hoped that getting naked was next on the agenda.

  "I don't think he bought your excuse about the cold," I said, as I stood blindfolded on what I assumed was a sidewalk. "It's in the seventies this morning and he didn't even have the AC on."

  Evan's arm held on to my elbow as he guided me forward. "You may be right. But I wanted what I wanted, and that was you."

  "Hmm," I said, adding a hint of censure to my tone.

  "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

  I frowned. "I take the Fifth."

  He burst out laughing. "Fair enough. But I know the truth. You told me, remember? You're a woman who likes to let go. Who likes the rush. Who needs it."

  I wanted desperately to peel the blindfold off and look at him. "I do," I said. "But it also scares me."

  "That was the point, Lina. You were with me. You can do anything with me." He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. "Anything. Because I will always be there. I will always catch you if you fall."

  I didn't know what to say. He'd managed to twist the moment around completely. From a casual sexual encounter in a taxi, to a moment of pure intimacy.

  "Evan," I said, turning blindly toward him and finding his face. I pulled him toward me for a kiss, deep and long and sweet.

  When I pulled back, he gently stroked my cheek. "What was that for?"

  "Wherever you're taking me, whatever we're doing, I know it's going to be amazing. And just in cas
e you have me so distracted later I forget to say it, I wanted to say thank you now."

  "You're welcome." He took my hand. "Are you ready to go inside?"

  I nodded and let him lead the way.

  "Distracted, huh?" he said as we entered a very air-conditioned room. "I can't imagine how you think I might distract you."

  I grinned, absolutely delighted with the man, with the morning, with the whole damn world.

  I knew better than to ask where we were. There was stone, not carpet, beneath my feet, and the space had an echo when we walked. It felt empty, too, and I assumed it was some sort of lobby. My assumption was confirmed when I heard the ding of an elevator. A moment later, we stepped onto one. And ascended, higher and higher and higher still.

  "About that flying thing," I said. "If you're thinking about hang gliding off the roof of one of the sky-rises, then I think I'm going to have to exercise my veto power."

  "That's tomorrow's agenda," he says. "Today's Sunday. I figured something less active would be appropriate."

  I wanted to scream with frustration because I had absolutely no idea what he had up his sleeve, but I also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. So I stayed calm, cool, and collected. And kept my curiosity soundly buried.

  Finally, the elevator slid to a smooth stop. The doors opened, and I heard a few people moving around, but not too many. I heard the clattering of dishes and--happily--I caught the scent of coffee.

  "Know where we are?"

  "One of the clubs? A breakfast buffet?" Uncle Jahn belonged to the Metropolitan Club and had taken me and Flynn there for drinks and appetizers to celebrate Flynn's first trip as a flight attendant.

  "Not a bad guess," he said. "But no."

  "Well, I give up."

  "That's okay. You don't have long to wait now."

  I'd been walking carefully, his hand on my elbow, and now he had me turn just slightly. The floor beneath us changed texture, and I heard the scrape of a chair.

  "Here you go," he said, helping me sit. He stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He bent over, and his breath rippled my hair as he asked, so very gently, "Are you ready?"

  "I think so." I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to be ready for, and he clearly expected me to be astounded. For a moment I feared that my reaction would disappoint him, but the fear faded quickly. If anyone knew how to overwhelm, it was Evan. "Yes," I said more firmly. "I'm ready."