Hot Target Page 8

  A LITTLE PAST EIGHT in the morning, with Katie lying down in the passenger seat sleeping and a new day’s sunshine already promising to be scorching hot, Luke pulled his truck into his driveway and parked.

  Though he wasn’t one to throw his weight around and ask for special privileges, when he was given the chance to slip Katie into a private E.R. room for fast attention, neither of them had complained. She had six stitches in her calf and a swollen knee she refused to have X-rayed, insisting no E.R. would be able to help her. He hadn’t been inclined to disagree. It was a chronic problem, and she needed a specialist. Being that she wasn’t at home near her regular doctor, Luke intended to lend her the team doc later in the day. For now, he wanted to get them both some rest.

  Katie sat up and stretched, a moan following that she tried to hide. “I guess that pain pill they gave me knocked me out,” she said. “I hate those damn things.”

  He chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She’d been unable to watch them stitch her leg, but she’d asked for a second-by-second explanation of what was happening. She was a control freak in the worst way. “Stay put and I’ll come around and help you.”

  Of course she didn’t. He’d barely made it to the hood of the truck to come around the vehicle, and already she had her door open.

  Luke rushed to her side and stopped her from getting out. “You don’t listen,” he complained, and wrapped his arm around her to pick her up.

  “I can walk,” she said, her hand pressing to his chest to push him away, her mouth so damn close to his.

  He kissed her, a soft brush of his lips over hers that was inviting and sent blood right to his groin. “We both know your knee is far more an issue than those stitches,” he said. “You’re exhausted and in pain. Stop beating yourself up for being human.” He brushed his knuckle over her cheek. “I’m going to carry you inside and get you some ice for that knee so you can sleep this off. Once you’re back to normal, you can be in charge again. Fair enough?”

  “You said ‘I’m in charge,’ so I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Luke lifted her. “I think I might enjoy that,” he teased, and kicked the door shut then started walking.

  “Wait!” she said. “Lock the truck.”

  He gave her an are you crazy look. “My hands are full.”

  “We have to lock it, Luke.”

  “I’ll come back and lock it, once you’re inside.”

  “No, you won’t,” she accused.

  “You’re right,” he said, taking the stairs to the front door. “I won’t.” He slid her down his body, unlocked the front door, and then pointed the keys at the truck and hit the automatic lock. His eyebrow inched upward. “Happy?”

  “I just want you to be safe,” she said, as he helped her in the door and shut it, keying the security code into the panel.

  “Stop worrying about me,” he ordered.

  “It’s my job, Luke.”

  He turned her to face him, suddenly irritated. “I don’t want to be your damn job, Katie,” he said. “I want to be a lot of things to you, but not a job. And when you are feeling better, we are going to talk.” Before she could object, he carried her up the stairs and straight to her room. He set her on the bed, and bent down on one knee in front of her.

  “I’m trying to do what is right, Luke,” she whispered.

  “I know, Katie.” He suddenly felt guilty for being so rough on her. “I’m just not sure if I’m capable of letting you do it, under the present setup. I want you too much to keep this just business.” His mouth went dry thinking about where they were, but the white line around her mouth that told of pain, plus the dark smudges beneath her eyes, quickly had him checking his desire. “I’ll get you that ice.”

  Luke made fast tracks to the kitchen, lust pumping through him and beating on him with desire. He had to face the facts. He’d told himself he had agreed to this dating facade with Katie because his management had forced his hand. But he’d agreed, because as soon as Katie had walked into his den, he’d wanted her.

  His agreement to publicly date her was self-serving, self-rewarding, and he wasn’t one for games—didn’t appreciate being played, so he didn’t do it to other people. He had to make sure Katie knew exactly where he was coming from and where this was going. It was easy to see Katie would find all kinds of reasons to question what was cut-and-dry to him. He wanted her. She wanted him. Hell. Ron had practically shoved them into bed together.

  Tossing ice into a plastic bag, he decided he was probably twisting Ron’s instructions a bit there, but people dated those they were involved with professionally all the time. Right. Now, if Katie would only see it that way.

  His hand tightened on the refrigerator door, an odd sense of not being alone sliding down his spine. Remaining still, he listened but found nothing but silence. He walked to the back-door security panel and checked it. All was intact. He glanced out the window. Nothing but sunlight and flowers. He shook his head, scrubbed his thickening stubble. All this security stuff was making him crazy. Still, he walked to the front door, staying silent, and again checked the security panel, again glanced outside. All was clear.

  Shaking off the unease, he redirected his thoughts to Katie and took the stairs two at a time, returning to the guest room. He found Katie lying on her side, her leg stiff and awkward, her eyes shut. He sat down next to her and her eyes opened. “I hate pain medicine,” she whispered. “I couldn’t seem to make it to the pillow. Can you hand it to me?”

  Luke scooted Katie to the top of the bed, taking one of the pillows and putting it under her knee, propping the ice around it. And then he lay down beside her and pulled her head onto his shoulder. “Rest,” he said, and he ran his hand down her hair.

  But she already was. Her small hand curled over his heart and her hair sprayed over his chest. Luke swallowed hard, feeling some sort of profound rightness about this that he couldn’t begin to understand. He absorbed the moment, Katie sleeping in his arms, a woman who’d stormed into his life like a raging hurricane.

  Luke studied the ceiling, not seeing it but seeing himself. He had every reason to be guarded, every reason to hold back with her. He’d been royally screwed over by his ex and by his manager. But he’d always been one to take life on the chin, to make the most of his blessings and not wallow in the negative.

  That’s why he refused to let the letters and threats steal his focus from the game. Being in the spotlight was part of getting the blessed chance to do what he loved and get paid for it. Shit happened in the spotlight. Shit happened in life.

  But after meeting Katie, he was finding some perspective with respect to his behavior in the recent months. He’d become reserved, on guard. And he wasn’t going to allow that to happen. No doubt, that left him exposed to manipulation, but every step he’d taken to get where he was today in his life had come with risks. He didn’t want to let bad experiences, bad people, change who and what he was. A ballplayer who was grateful for every single opportunity he had in his life, and every person who’d believed in him on the way there. He didn’t want to start thinking everyone was out to get him, or get something from him. And he had. He had started feeling that way. No more of that. He wasn’t going to stop taking risks. Not on the field and not in his personal life. And he sure wasn’t going to miss out on discovering why Katie felt so damn good lying here in his arms.

  KATIE FADED in and out of sleep, clinging to the warmth surrounding her. So pleasant. So comfortable. A ringing sound in the distance forced her to leave it behind, her eyes peeling open, bright sunlight piercing her pupils. Her cell phone. Katie sat straight up. Her eyes went wide.

  “Luke!” Luke was in bed with her. “Ouch, ouch.” Her leg. She reached for it and heard the ringing again. “My phone.”

  Luke started laughing. “You’ve managed to panic over me, your leg and your phone in about thirty seconds of being awake. I think you should lie back down and start over.”

  She forgot her phone and her leg.
“You’re… We’re…Did we?”

  He leaned up on his elbows, his T-shirt stretching over his broad chest, muscles flexing beneath the soft material. “I’d like to think you’d remember if we had.”

  “Good point,” she said. So would she? It would be damn near criminal to live out that fantasy and not remember.

  “Besides,” he said. “I don’t take advantage of women while they are drunk or on drugs.” He chuckled as if remembering something she could not. “You really weren’t kidding about not doing well with pain pills.”

  No telling what she had said or done when she was groggy. “Hate them,” she said. “Same reason I don’t drink. I hate that fuzzy, out-of-focus feeling.”

  His laughter faded, but the cute dimple in his right cheek did not. “Myself, and most of the hospital staff, gathered that fairly well,” he said with playful sarcasm. “Which is why I stayed close—in case you needed anything.”

  She tilted her head, studied him and his motives. “Close is within hearing range,” she said. “Close is not in bed with me.”

  He didn’t seem fazed by her observation. “You were tired and so was I.” He dismissed it, as if sleeping in the same bed meant nothing, but they both knew it did. It was intimate. It was…sleeping in the same bed! He glanced at the clock, which read ten-thirty. “We slept about two hours.”

  Two hours—for two hours Katie had been snuggled close to him, wrapped in those big, strong, wonderful arms, and she didn’t remember. That was wrong on so many levels.

  “How’s your leg?” he asked, snapping her out of her silent regret.

  His hair was rumpled and sexy, his eyes full of what appeared to be genuine concern. She didn’t answer the question. Instead, she asked one of her own. “You stayed in case I needed anything?”

  “Sure. I was worried about you.” He sat up, his gaze traveling to the pillow by her leg. “Though I forgot about the ice when I fell asleep.” He grabbed the dripping bag that was filled with just water now and carefully placed it on the nightstand by the bed.

  Katie had never had a man take care of her like this. Her parents would have, if they were around. Her sister, yes, before she’d gotten married to her loser husband. Donna would take care of her, if she needed help. But never a man. It felt nice and downright terrifying. She didn’t want to feel this, to want this, to rely on someone who wouldn’t be there later. If the past few years had taught her anything, it was that.

  “We need to switch to heat now anyway,” he said, turning back to her, onto his side. Katie quickly tried to wipe away any remnant of emotion as he added. “I’ve got a heating pad I use on my arm when it gets stiff. You can use that. How often does that leg flare up?”

  “Not often really,” she told him. “It’s unpredictable. Staying active helps, but I have to be careful. I should have been wearing a knee brace and I wasn’t. But then, I can be doing absolutely nothing and still aggravate it.” She hesitated. “Thank you, Luke.”

  Their eyes locked, held, the electricity between them instant, intense. “You don’t owe me any thanks,” he said. “And you didn’t answer my question. How is your leg?”

  “My calf is throbbing from those damn stitches,” she said. “My knee—well—I’ve learned to live with that during flare-ups. Though the limits it represents—that’s harder than anything. It’ll calm back down in the next few days.”

  The air shifted and seconds passed. Seconds laden with sexual tension. Thick with the attraction that had snapped between them from the moment they’d met, the same tension they’d funneled into harsh words and arguments. But there was no argument now. There was only desire. Only need.

  “Tell me to go get that heating pad before I don’t go at all, Katie,” he said, his voice low, gravelly.

  Katie’s chest tightened, her cheeks heated. She was drowning in the clear promise in his stare. She shut her eyes, tried to block it out. But the instant she looked at him again, the intensity in his gaze pulled her right back in. How had this happened? How had she fallen this much in lust with a man she’d thought she hated only two days before? There were a million reasons to send him away, but suddenly, the lines of right and wrong weren’t so black-and-white. Suddenly, there was simply her and Luke. And that felt right; they felt right.

  “Stay,” she said. “I want you to stay, Luke.”

  Luke didn’t move, didn’t blink. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice as intense as his stare. “You want me to stay? Because last night you didn’t even want me to kiss you.”

  “I wanted you to kiss me, Luke. You know I wanted you to kiss me.” She reached out and ran her hand through his hair. “And I want you to kiss me now.”

  He scooted closer, his hand going to her thigh, the calluses of his fingers skimming her bare leg, goose bumps rising in their wake. His lips closed in on hers, but still he held back. “No guilt, Katie. It’s like stealing a base—once you commit, you have to own the decision. There are no regrets.”

  Katie let those words fill her, let them expand with all the possibilities they held: the guilt, the self-doubt, the punishment after the fact that she could manage to dish out to herself—and Lord only knew, she was good at that. But she’d done so much guilt and responsibility these past few years. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. She didn’t want more of that. She wanted Luke. She did. But… “I need to know you understand this changes nothing. I am here to do a job and I plan to do it. I need to know this isn’t about you thinking I’ll quit the security issue if this happens.”

  “If I thought for a minute that being with me would distract you from doing your job,” he said, “I probably wouldn’t want you. It’s your strong will and determination that turns me on, Katie. I expect nothing less than you riding my ass about security when we have our clothes back on. Maybe before. But you better damn sure bet I’ll likely be complaining about it, too.”

  Katie found herself smiling inside with those words, because she believed him completely. He would grumble. But she also appreciated his honesty about that fact. He continued, “This here, now—us together—it’s about a man and a woman who not only want each other, we have chemistry, Katie. It’s not about Ron’s agenda or management’s or even about a stalker. It’s you and me.”

  He’d said exactly what she both wanted and needed to hear, and Katie allowed herself to let go—to let herself reach for pleasure. She pressed her lips to his, lingered as she absorbed the feel of him, the taste of him. His lips were firm but soft, his restraint evident in the tension of his mouth, his body. He didn’t believe she’d committed. “No regrets,” Katie whispered, her fingers tracing his jaw as she pulled back to stare at him. “I want this, Luke. I want you.”

  Seconds snapped by, heavy with sexual tension—as if he was somehow silently measuring her commitment—before Luke’s hand weaved into her hair, before his lips found hers, his tongue dividing the seam of her lips and plunging into her mouth. Passionate hot kisses followed, his tongue teasing her, pleasing her. She could barely breathe for the rush of need that climbed through her body, expanding within her chest. Her nipples ached and her breasts were heavy. She wanted him to touch her there, wanted to touch him. Her damn leg throbbed and wouldn’t move or she would have lifted it over his hip, arched into him. He seemed to sense her need, inching closer, his hand gliding around her scantily clad backside and squeezing.

  She moaned into his mouth, slid her hand under his shirt, reveling in the feel of taut, warm skin beneath her palm, the muscles flexing beneath her touch.

  “Take this off,” she said, shoving the material of his tee upward, her fingers splaying in the springy hair of his chest, nails scraping over his nipples. She could feel the raw need in him building, and it drove her wild. Drove her to demand more. She was going to absorb herself in Luke, keep herself from thinking about doubts, about guilt. She wanted it all—she wanted all of him, and she wanted him naked.

  His lips stole away from hers as he maneuvered to take his
shirt off. While he did, her hand found his crotch, stroking the hard ridge of his erection. “Katie,” he moaned, lying back down. She pressed a hand over those flat, rippling abdominals, and followed with her lips, tracing one muscle after the other, even as her fingers dipped beneath the denim of his pants. Exploring this man’s perfect body was exactly the kind of experience and reward she needed.

  But suddenly, Luke gently but surely shackled her hand. “My turn, sweetheart,” he said, easing her carefully to her back. “You rest that leg, and let me do all the work.” He grabbed the pillow and propped her leg up.

  “My leg is fine,” she argued.

  “And we’re going to keep it that way,” he said, leaning down and brushing his lips over her knee, easing her good leg wide so that he could slip between the V. He peered up at her, dark lashes veiling eyes laden with a mischievous, sexy promise—the promise of pleasure. Promise of satisfaction.

  His lips went back to her sore knee, his tongue flickering seductively against her delicate skin, his hand slowly riding up her thigh as his mouth followed. His teeth and his tongue alternated with delicate, sizzling manipulations until he shoved her shorts up, nipped beneath the hem—licked. Heat pooled low in her stomach, and Katie could feel her core clench with anticipation, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

  But he kept her waiting, a new pleasure unfolding. He slid that rock-hard body up hers, hands caressing a path beneath her shirt, over her rib cage. Kissed her. Seduced her. Katie faded into a haze of desire that she didn’t want to ever leave. And in that haze, somehow her shirt was gone, Luke’s hands over her breasts, where her bra had once been, her back arching into his touch. His thumbs stroking her nipples, his tongue gliding along hers with hungry thrusts and deep, passionate demands. She wrapped her free leg around him, arched her hips, wanted more of him, wanted him closer. She could feel the hard length of his erection stretching his jeans, pressing into the center of her body. She wanted it stretching her.