Pin Down (Men out of Uniform Book 1) (3 page)

“Um…” She looked down and her throat went dry. “You’re
bleeding by the way.”

He glanced down at his leg. The knife had cut through his
jeans high up on his inner thigh and done God knew what damage to his leg.

“You should get that looked at,” she added.

He shrugged.

“But you’re not going to.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

She frowned. “The blood soaked right through your jeans. It
might need stitches.”

“It doesn’t.”

Jeez, this was all she needed. She would have liked nothing
better than to leave him here freezing his ass off. But he’d stepped in to help
her out when a lot of guys probably wouldn’t have even noticed anything was up.
He’d protected her against a group of thugs, taken care of business
matter-of-factly, even though she probably wasn’t in any real danger herself.

She sighed. The least she could do was make sure he was okay,
that he got where he needed to go. She could dodge his ego if she had to,
ignore his arrogance. It really was the least she could do.
Right?

“Let me at least drive you somewhere.”

He looked as surprised as she felt at the words.

“I’m fine.”

“No. I’m driving you home. I don’t want it on my conscience
if you bleed out here all over the sidewalk. It’d probably leave a stain and then
I’d have to be reminded of it each time I came here.”

He put his hands on his hips. “You don’t listen worth a damn,
do you?”

She tilted her chin toward him, not the least bit
intimidated. So he was used to being obeyed, no questions asked? She snorted. It
figured. “Same goes, hotshot.”

He’d been mostly silent on the way over in her car, but Lexi
knew he’d been uncomfortable in the passenger seat. He was used to being in
control, he had it written all over him. And he’d been pissed at having to
explain himself when the cops had shown up. He’d owned the small space and even
though he’d slumped back in the seat, trying to find enough room for his long
legs, she’d been aware of every glance—every hot, sideways glance. And there’d
been a lot of them. Of course, it could all have been in her imagination.

Lexi bit back a smile as he wrenched open the door to his
hotel room and stalked in, although calling the place a “hotel” was a stretch.
He was doing the “if I don’t look at you, maybe you’re not here” thing again.

Who knew hot guys who kicked ass with little effort could
sulk? Well tough. She was going to make sure he really was okay whether he
liked it or not.

“Unless you intend to put out, get out,” he snapped when he
noticed she’d followed him in.

Whew.
It was something only a total jerk would say. She
laughed. “Oooh, that’s good.”

He frowned and raked her with a disgusted glance. “Jesus,
don’t you have any self-preservation instincts?”

She turned back from checking out the shabby room and smiled,
thinking the semi-confused look really did him justice. She cocked her head to
the side. “Yeah, I do and they’re telling me you’re pretty much all talk.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “Yeah?” he said quietly. “How can
you be so sure?”

How did he do that? Draw all the energy in the room and
channel it into a single, laser-focused stare filled with such savage intensity
that it made her legs tremble, her throat go dry and heat explode low down in
her abdomen?

She fought the urge to fidget under that look. “You’re a badass.
I can totally see that, but threatening a woman, hurting one? I bet you’re the
kind who’d rip his own arm off first.”

He shook his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Just got good instincts.” She’d had to learn how to size
people up quickly at an early age. Sometimes her safety had depended on it. And
him? He was rude and surly and he might be lethal to some, but she knew he
wouldn’t hurt her. She didn’t know how she knew that exactly, but she’d bet her
life on it, probably already was. She was alone here with him in his hotel room
and screams in this area probably wouldn’t attract a lot of attention.

“Jesus, do you mind?”

Lexi smiled again. She’d followed him right into the tiny
bathroom. He looked kinda cute with the frown and slightly harassed look, and she’d
bet “cute” wasn’t normally a word anyone associated with him.

“If you’re not going to go to the hospital, then I at least want
to see your injury.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It bled right through your jeans.”

“It’s a fucking scratch.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take a look.” She put her hand on
her hip and glanced at his crotch. “You shy?”

“Hardly,” he snorted.

“Then let’s see it.”

His right eyebrow lifted.

She tried to deflect the color she felt rising into her cheeks,
but knew the effort was pointless. What was it about this guy that had her
normally “unaffected by a hot guy” self all affected and bothered anyway?

He let out a quick breath, muttered something too low for
her to catch and reached for his fly. Her mouth went dry, chalk dry. He jerked
at the button and yanked his jeans down his thighs in a quick, rough move.

She’d heard the expression “left little to the imagination”.
Had heard it and thought nothing of it. Now all she could do was stare at the dark
briefs that seemed to cup and emphasize his maleness rather than conceal
anything. Of course, that might have had a lot to do with the fact that he was
aroused.
Very
aroused.

In the quiet of the room she was sure he could hear her
heart beating. And her swallowing. It was almost deafening to her.

“Been like this since I saw your vertical sex act,” he
murmured.

Lexi dragged her eyes up to his. “My…
what
?”

“I’m guessing you call it dancing.”

She frowned. He’d been watching her dance? God, why? She was
pretty much oblivious when she was dancing and certainly didn’t give a thought
to who might be watching.

“Ignore it. I plan to,” he added.

Her eyes widened. “You can do that?”

She’d heard about guys who got off on the adrenaline rush of
doing something daring, dangerous and the fight probably qualified as that.

He gave her an unfathomable look. “Look, you wanna see it or
not? Then take a good look.”

He sat on the edge of the low tub and spread his legs. Wide.

Holy mother of God.

“The scratch, Alexis, the scratch.”

Color filled her face this time in a fast, hot wash. Damn,
but she didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about. The scratch
was
in
the general vicinity of his…
Wasn’t it?

Yeah, she wasn’t fooling him. Or herself. Her eyes had been
glued to the bulge between his legs and she’d been looking her fill. It was
that simple. His thin underwear barely covered what it was supposed to with his
legs spread. With the fabric stretched taut she could see every bulge and curve
and he was just… He just looked…male. God, it was the only word that came to mind
to describe him. He was every inch a man and oh, baby, he had himself plenty of
inches.

His thighs were thick with muscle and covered in a
sprinkling of dark hair she had an insane urge to trail her fingers through. High
up toward the leg of his underwear, right between his legs, his skin was
hairless and looked smooth, soft even. It was a hint of vulnerability on a guy
who was ripped with muscle, corded with toughness.

She swallowed as she forced her gaze down along the inside
of his thigh. He might keep calling it a scratch but the cut was an angry-looking
line that had to be three inches long and still seeping blood.

“Ah, you should probably put something on that.”

He jerked his head toward the sink. “Have at it then.”

“
Me?
”

Her gaze shot to his and she just knew he’d been watching
her the whole time. Not just looking at her, but watching her—and cataloguing
every nuance of her reaction. His dark gaze was hot and burned into hers,
searing her in a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of
the room.

She’d never been anyone’s nurse and was pretty sure she
didn’t exactly have a gentle touch. Or the bedside manner to go along with it.
She picked up the small medical kit he’d motioned to and frowned. How many guys
carried their own first-aid kit around with them, especially one so well stocked
and clearly well used? She saw the challenge in his eyes that said she wouldn’t
do it. Yeah, she knew how that went. She unzipped the bag and smiled. If he
wanted to be her guinea pig, who was she to argue?

She opened a square of gauze and soaked the soft pad in
alcohol. Or at least what she assumed was alcohol. This stuff probably stung,
right?

There really was no other way to get close enough, so she
knelt between his legs, and was all at once surrounded by him. She could feel
the heat coming off his big, powerful body, could smell the faint hint of a
woodsy aftershave and it didn’t help the steadiness of her hands that he continued
to stare at her with those dark, decadent eyes of his.

“So…” She cleared her throat as she leaned in, hoping like
hell she could keep her hands steady. “You got a girl in every port then?”

Nash frowned. He didn’t think he’d ever “had” a girl. Ever.
Not the way she probably meant.

“No,” he ground out, bracing his body as if anticipating a
blow when she leaned closer.

“Fuck’em and forget’em type then?”

He cringed. “Alexis…”

“It’s okay. The only thing I can’t stand more than
stupidity? Dishonesty.”

He gritted his teeth when she swiped at the cut with
something that stung like a bitch. He should have been able to disarm that
bastard with his eyes closed. Served him right for allowing her to distract
him. The fucker had been aiming for his balls too. Maybe he should have let her
loose on him with those boots after all.

Goddamn it though, his favorite jeans. Sliced, ruined and
probably stained for good. He’d felt the sharp, hot sting. He’d known it wasn’t
serious. He’d had serious plenty of times and this wasn’t it, not even close.
But the jeans…
damn
.

She leaned down closer and frowned.
Alexis.
The name
didn’t seem to suit her at all and he smiled. It hadn’t escaped his notice that
she hadn’t asked him for his. She was prickly all right and not something he
was used to. He had a type. He knew it and Jake ribbed him about it often
enough. Tall, leggy brunettes did it for him, plain and simple. Always had.
Long, dark hair was sexy as hell and he liked a body under his that was more
his height. Alexis was almost the exact opposite of what really turned him on
so why the hell did she have the power to make him say dumb things and think
even dumber ones like…did she like to fuck slow and gentle or hard and out of
control?

He eased out a breath because that kind of thinking was
going to do nothing for the boner that didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime
soon.

It wasn’t bragging to say he attracted his fair share of
female attention. Sure, he got turned down—plenty—but usually he had his pick
of willing, happy-to-please women. And who knew he went for prickly?

She might have a slight build, dark blonde hair and couldn’t
be over five-foot-four without the boots, but that description didn’t really do
justice to the honey shine of her hair, those killer curves or the sharp clarity
of her eyes. He couldn’t get a bead on exactly what color they were. Sometimes
they looked sort of blue, other times more gray.

Lexi looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “So, where
are you from?”

“Here and there,” he bit out.

“Where do you live?”

He thought about the lumpy bed in the next room where he’d likely
spend a restless night and shrugged. “Here. At the moment.”

“No.” She frowned. “I meant, where’s your place? You have a
house, apartment, someplace at least you keep all your stuff, right?”

With his schedule, anything permanent hadn’t seemed to make
any sense and he didn’t think a storage unit was what she meant. He thought
about the majority of his weapons and gear stored in lockdown and his duffel out
next to the bed. It had everything he needed. “Nope.”

He watched her, trying to ignore the tip of her tongue he
could see between her lips as she worked. When was the last time someone else
had taken care of a wound he could have easily done himself? The last time he’d
permitted anyone to touch him like this? That would be
never
. Everything
he did was calculated. At least it always had been, but this? He had no clue.

He fought back the urge to adjust himself in the restrictive
briefs. Besides, he couldn’t very well do that with the way she was kneeling
between his legs. It’d been fun to see her turn from sassy bitch to concerned
nursemaid. At first. Now he was having a hard time with it. Literally.

“Look, I don’t have anything to offer anyone anyway, except
snatches of time and they’re few and far between.”

Now why had he said that? It wasn’t as if he owed her
anything and he swore long ago he’d never answer to anyone but himself so where
the hell had that come from? He took what he wanted, when he needed to and that
was that. Right?

“Hey,
ouch
.”

“Don’t be a baby.” She glanced up at him quickly. “Something
tells me you’ve had far worse than this.”

He frowned. “Yeah.”

“So what you are? You used some fancy moves on Tracey and
his idiot goons. Special ops or something like that?”

He stilled. He never talked about himself and usually let
people assume whatever the hell they wanted. It might not be technically
correct any longer, but close enough. “Something like that.”

She had an uncanny ability to read him despite the vibe he
knew he gave off. And she was undeterred by what Jake called his “sparkling
personality”. Maybe she even had one of her own. Part of the reason he’d never
even thought about a woman and permanent in the same sentence was that he knew
himself too well. He was moody, surly and he bored real easy. Even if you took
his job out of the picture, it wasn’t a great combination for a long-lasting
relationship. Plus, having seen what his parents had done to each other for
most of his childhood, well…who’d want to sign up for that?

Her hands kept brushing against his thigh as she worked. Her
knuckles had even grazed his balls a time or two and it’d been hell not to
groan out loud. Or jerk his hips in response. The only consolation was that
she’d gone red each time. His jaw ached with how hard he was clenching his
teeth and that had nothing to do with the sting from the antiseptic. Yeah, this
had been a fucking brilliant idea of his.

He’d told her to ignore his hard-on, but no way was that happening,
at least not for him. The boner wasn’t going anywhere and he had neither the
energy nor the inclination to get back out to do anything about it tonight. And
he didn’t feel like taking care of business himself. He’d done so much of that
over the last few months it’s a wonder he wasn’t permanently blind.

She slapped a bandage over the wound, running her fingers around
the edges to make sure it was secure. Each time he steeled himself because
there was nothing he wanted more than to grab her hand and push it a little farther,
a little higher, against the part of him that hurt the most and it wasn’t the
damn cut. Not by a long shot.

Finally.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she moved back, but as she
went to stand, she stumbled in the boots he’d probably have fantasies about long
into the night. Before she could even gasp, he’d grabbed for her and ended up
with a fistful of tank top right between her breasts.