No Rules (11 page)

“Yeah.” And so was Jess. Unfortunately, they were about to figure that out.

They were both quiet for several seconds. “I’m sorry,” Avery finally said. Jess jerked her head up, faintly alarmed that Avery meant she was sorry Jess was such a screwed-up nutcase. “I mean, for that crack I made about therapy. I wish Wally could have been there for you.”

It was ironic, getting sympathy from someone who’d been through so much worse, but she could tell Avery meant it. “Thanks. But I’m glad he was there for you.”

She clasped Avery’s fingers as they exchanged sad smiles.

…

Donovan stopped in the doorway, confused. Jess and Avery sat on the floor holding hands in what looked like some sort of prayer session, a conclusion he knew couldn’t be right.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Both women looked up. “Nothing.” They both said it.

He decided it was one of those girl things he didn’t want to know about, for fear he’d end up holding hands and struggling to look melancholy, too. Instead, he delivered his message. “Lori’s ready for you,” he told Avery.

“Thanks.” Avery got to her feet, explaining to Jess as she rose, too. “Lori does spray tans for us, among other things. I need to darken my skin and dye my hair so I don’t stand out. It’s not a total disguise, just enough that I won’t draw attention.”

“Do I need to go, too?”

“No,” Donovan answered for her as Avery slipped past him and left. “We want you to look Western.”

She looked at his newly darkened skin, obviously appreciating the effectiveness of Lori’s technique. “You look so…different.”

“Not that much. And not typically Egyptian, but I’ll pass as Middle Eastern. It makes sense that your Egyptian husband would hire someone he knows and trusts as your bodyguard.”

She nodded, eyes wide as he moved toward her. Something inside him jumped to attention at her appraisal, knocking aside his persistent worry about an informant in the group. That could wait; this was new and interesting.

Her gaze touched on his hands before moving back to his face. “With your dark eyes and hair, it looks natural. Also kind of, I don’t know, foreign.” Her eyelids narrowed thoughtfully. “Dangerous.” Her voice had a catch in it.

He supposed it was natural that
foreign
equated with
dangerous
for a woman who never traveled. However, he watched with interest as she sucked in her full lower lip and held it in her teeth. Something more was going on in that pretty head. “Do I make you nervous?”

She shook her head quickly, a decisive
no
that he didn’t believe. Her lip slid free as her gaze traveled thoughtfully over his sweater. “Do you, uh, look like that all over?”

An involuntary hardness touched his groin as his body suddenly jumped to attention. She was attracted to him? It was more enticing than it should be.

“Yeah, it’s easier if I don’t have to worry about how much skin I expose.” He answered her question, but his mind caught on the fascinating notion of exposing skin. Both his and hers. It was not the type of thought he normally indulged for someone he had to work with, and definitely shouldn’t allow for Wally’s daughter. But he couldn’t help staring at her mouth, wishing she’d bite that lip again.

Or maybe he’d do it for her.

She raised an eyebrow, obviously imagining his all-over tan. “Oh.” It was barely a breath, but clearly an approving one.

Damn.
He stood close enough that he could see her pulse thrum in the veins of her neck. Fast, but not from fear—that much was evident in her eyes. And it didn’t fit at all with the timid personality he’d thought he’d had pegged for Jess Maulier.

She was afraid of the unknown, obsessively so. She lived a life of patterns and routines, while preparing for eventualities she hoped would never happen. An unexpected change in plans. Travel. Any event that hadn’t been thoroughly vetted by her therapist. All the things he’d put her through since he’d whisked her out of Wally’s house in the middle of the night, past a dead body, and into what had to be her worst nightmare.

She’d been furious with him and more than a little frightened. The motorcycle and black leather had only exacerbated that, and he’d decided that was a good thing, forcing him to keep his distance from the last woman in the world he should want to cozy up to.

Wally’s daughter was sweet and pretty. And as much as he tried to ignore it, she was hot. It was a combination that worked its way under his skin and started an itch he badly wanted to scratch. And shouldn’t. Not with the girl Wally had sacrificed so much for in order to shield her from the dangers of his life. The same dangers Tyler Donovan lived with every day.

They had a problem. Being attracted to her had been unexpected, although when she’d hated and feared him, they’d been fine. But she’d softened since learning about her father’s other life. He’d softened, too, in order to coax Wally’s narrative from her memory. They’d become friendly. She’d started to trust him. It had seemed like a good thing. Who knew something more had smoldered beneath that proper surface?

He watched as she pulled that lower lip between her teeth again and considered him, causing the front of his jeans to develop a definite bulge. Holy shit, the good girl had a thing for bad boys.

He had to do something about it. There were two ways he could go.

One, he could ignore it and hope it went away, or hope that she lacked the boldness to follow up on her budding interest. But if he’d learned one thing about Jess, it was that she was determined when it came to getting what she wanted, whether it meant faking a broken ankle—a claim he hadn’t forgotten even if he hadn’t mentioned it—or requiring him to use bodily force to remove her from her father’s house. Even then she hadn’t quit fighting him. It had taken a dead body to convince her to leave Nipagonee Rapids, and he didn’t have a spare one to throw into this argument.

Which left option two—cooperate. More fun for him, and more chance of success. He could come on so strong that Jess and her innocent little crush would run screaming in terror from real male sexual aggression. He imagined the type of man she dated had soft, manicured hands and polite manners, the kind of man who asked permission before kissing her good night. A dull, safe man who could never threaten her security.

Donovan wasn’t dull, and he certainly wasn’t safe. And he intended to threaten every idea of security she’d ever had.

Without giving her time to lick that luscious, full lip again, he grabbed her upper arms and backed her into the dresser, pinning her against the wood between two brass drawer pulls. She gasped and stared, openmouthed. But she didn’t struggle. Not yet.

“Danger can be exciting. Maybe what you need is a little danger in your life, Jess.” He leaned into her, his chest pressing against her breasts as he lowered his head to her neck. Soft, fragrant skin brushed his nose as he nuzzled below her ear. Deliberately, he licked her.

He felt her shiver and heard the soft intake of breath, but she didn’t say a word. Speechless with fear, no doubt. He closed his eyes and inhaled her delicate scent, getting into his predatory role. He’d never forced himself on a woman, but scaring Jess away was for her own good, and he wouldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy the closeness while it lasted.

Working his way up to her cheek, he nibbled at the corner of her mouth. Tasting, teasing. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, little puffs of air that tickled the hair above his ear. He nipped at her lower lip. A tiny whimper escaped her throat, a helpless sound, like a kitten. He pressed his pelvis against her, his erection impossible to miss as he ground into her, assuring himself it was okay to enjoy it since he was doing it for a good reason. She blinked her large, brown eyes at him, transfixed. The poor thing was probably in shock.

That might be enough. But he needed to be sure she was good and scared, enough to leave him alone for the duration of their mission. He tried not to think about how much he didn’t want to stop, but knew this would be his only chance to experience the fantasy that had been playing in his head since he first saw Jess stride purposefully down the gangway at the Traverse City airport. Molding himself to that lithe body and kissing her breathless was a dream come true.

Very deliberately, he did it. Moving his grip to her wrists so she couldn’t push him away, he held her against the dresser and pressed his mouth to hers. Not the polite kiss she was probably used to, but a forceful, plundering kiss, crushing both their lips and joining their tongues. With her heart pounding against him, he muffled her small, startled sound and moved his mouth over hers.

It was a rush of sensations—heat, wetness, and something minty. Softness mixed with firmness, while the light scent of her made him dizzy with the desire to get closer. An impossibility, so he simply kissed her harder and longer, drawing deep satisfaction from the moan that vibrated into his mouth.
That’s right, baby, this is what’s it like when a real man kisses you. If you play with fire, you get burned, so you’d better think twice about flirting with dangerous men. Leave them to the dangerous women.

He was lost in her warmth, taking all he could, until he realized that she was completely pliant and unresisting. He’d expected panic by now. Worry crept in that he’d come on too strong. They needed her cooperation, and if she was afraid to be near him, the operation would suffer. Summoning all the control he could, he lifted his mouth from hers. The taste of her lingered, hot and sweet, and the desire for more raged in the hard-on that pressed insistently against her stomach. Ignoring it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

She blinked dazed eyes at him as he stepped back. He waited for the outrage, followed by a slap on the face. He could use it; it might bring him to his senses.

Her eyes cleared. He watched something darker creep in, a new understanding as her gaze held his. She’d gotten the message. She twisted her hands free, and he released her, bracing for the slap as she raised her arm.

Her hand landed on the back of his neck. She leaned closer, and he tensed at what he knew was false intimacy, meant to suck him in for a more jolting reprimand.

“You’re right,” she murmured.

“I am?” What had he said? His mind did a rapid rewind, recalling the phrase about her needing some danger in her life. Maybe she was about to go apeshit and give him a little danger in return.

“I think that was exactly what I need. In fact, I need more of it.” Before he could react, her lips landed on his.

It wasn’t the sort of kiss he would have expected from Jess. There was nothing innocent about it. Her tongue found his in a sinuous dance that did a good job of imitating the way her hips slid across his, igniting the desire he’d been struggling to extinguish. Her fingers delved into his hair while her other hand stroked his shoulder and explored the contours of his back.

For one second he was staggered, struggling to regain his wits. Then he acted. He knew what he had to do, knew he needed to put an immediate stop to this.

Fuck that. He wrapped his arms around her, banging her into the dresser in his eagerness to press closer. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop kissing him, her mouth wild and hot and eager. Like the rest of her body.

He let his hands roam as he abandoned all attempts at control. He explored everywhere—the curve of her hips, the dip at the small of her back, the firm swell of her breasts beneath her sweater. The urgent sounds in her throat told him she liked it, that she wanted more. When he squeezed her butt cheek she moaned and wrapped a leg around his, locking them together. Staggering, he slapped his other hand against the dresser to catch his balance and maintain the mind-blowing contact she’d achieved with his erection nestled snuggly into the valley between her legs. God, he wanted more of that.

Her hands locked around his neck, bringing his head lower. Bringing them both lower as her weight sagged in his arms, encouraging him to follow her to the floor. Great idea. He bent over to lay her on the carpet, prepared to rip away the clothes that created a frustrating barrier between them, when he came to his senses.

What in the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be preventing this, not instigating it. Digging his fingernails into the top of the dresser, he pulled them both upright and broke away. Holding up one hand, palm out, he ran the other through his hair, trying to make his mind work.

She blinked at him, disheveled and breathless. “Why did you stop?” Her gaze flew to the open door. “Do you think someone might see us?”

At least she wasn’t an exhibitionist. That was reassuring. He was beginning to wonder what other surprises the author of
Gordon Groundhog and the Mossy Log Meadow Safety Patrol
had in store for him.

“Jess, you shouldn’t be with me.”

Her chest still rose and fell with deep breaths, and he forced himself to look away from the tempting fullness he’d just had beneath his hands. “What are you talking about?” she asked, frowning. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah.” He took another nervous swipe through his hair. “I didn’t expect that sort of reaction.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, your dad wanted to protect you from the life he led. The life I lead. I had no business kissing you and I’m sorry. So let’s just forget it.”

“You’re sorry?”

That flat stare from a woman was never good. God, he’d made a mess of this.

Jess tossed her hair back and tugged her sweater in place before drilling him with that accusing stare again. “You know, I wasn’t hoping for a marriage proposal, Donovan.” She stepped closer, close enough that he smelled the clean scent that wafted off her heated skin. Close enough that her breath whispered intimately against his cheek. “I just wanted to fuck your brains out.”