by Lora Leigh
The clothes she wore practically hung on her, but they did nothing to make him forget the sweet perfection of her body beneath them.
"You should let me go to the construction site with you." Turning, she wiped her hands on a small towel as she stared back at him challengingly.
"And you should hop up on this table and let me have you for dessert," he suggested as he allowed a hint of the hunger he felt to fill his voice. Her face flushed. The prettiest shade of pink suffused her cheeks. Would the rest of her body flush so charmingly?
"I don't think so." Her voice was breathy, and he liked that. He knew she was at least thinking about it. That was a good thing. "And that has nothing to do with me going to the construction site with you."
"That's about as likely to happen as you letting me go down on you." He shrugged, watching her expression closely. "As a matter of fact, me going down on you is probably more likely."
His entire body tightened as he watched her catch her breath, watched her nipples tighten beneath her T-shirt. Hard, pretty little points that he knew were achingly sensitive. He wanted his mouth on them again. He wanted to lick them until they were cherry red and each breath caused a cry to part her pretty pink lips.
"I doubt it." She tried to sound firm, determined, but a virgin was no match for the sensualist Nik knew he was. He wanted her until nothing else seemed to matter. Wanted to taste her with a desperation that clawed at his balls.
"Don't make it a dare, Mikayla." He rose from his seat before turning and tossing the beer bottle in the trash. "I might not walk away from that so easily. You want, just as bad as I do."
He left the room rather than standing there and watching that need fill her. Damn, it was all he could do to make himself walk away.
Mikayla had dreams. Whatever those dreams were, they didn't involve losing her innocence in his bed. At least not yet.
He was going to have her before this job was over; he could feel it. He knew it. Just as he could feel the knowledge that taking her could destroy both of them. He didn't need this, he reminded himself, not for the first time. He didn't want to break Mikayla Martin's heart. He didn't want to steal the gift she was obviously saving for her husband. But the hunger was coming close to overriding his convictions. And that wasn't a good thing.
The next morning Mikayla stepped from the bedroom, in some kind of sinfully designed-to-stop-the-male-heart summer dress.
It was a soft lavender, sleeveless with a heart-shaped front that cupped her breasts 92
and snugged up to them before flaring over her hips and ending just above her knees in a slim-line skirt that had his hands itching to draw it up her legs. Three-inch cream-colored heels covered her tiny feet and still left her incredibly short. Her hair was braided again, the French braid pulling the strands back from her face and revealing the pretty, soft lines of her face.
Minimal makeup complemented her skin, but the hint of gloss on her lips made him hungry to lick it from the lush curves.
"Breakfast is do-it-yourself," she told him as she passed by him, her attention on the contents of the little cream-colored purse she carried. "Deirdre usually picks something up on her way in, so I don't cook in the morning." Hell, he'd kept his distance last night; this morning was another thing. Those little buttons between her breasts tempted his fingers; the hint of sweet flesh between her breasts peeked out at him, and tempted his tongue.
He was about to have his breakfast right now. At least, a little taste of it. Snagging her around the waist, he pulled her to him.
Before she could protest, he lifted her to the center island, pressed in between those pretty legs, and held her still for a kiss that fried every synapse in his brain. All he knew, all he felt, all he tasted, once his lips touched her was Mikayla, heat, and sex. His cock, already hard, painfully so, seemed to thicken further. His balls drew tight and his body became one hard ache where she was concerned. A moan of surrender was the answer to his kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest, and Nik was lost in her. God, she tasted of pure heat. A man could become lost in her forever if he allowed it.
One hand cupped the back of her head to hold her in place while the fingers of the other moved to those buttons. They were meant to intrigue, designed to tease. He had them loosened in about three seconds flat, and when he figured out she wasn't wearing a bra his breath stopped in his chest.
His hands filled with the lush mounds. He couldn't help it. Slanting his lips across hers, he shaped the firm, heated flesh, his thumb raking over tight nipples as she flinched beneath the caress.
He felt like a schoolboy. Hell, like a teenager, copping a feel for the first time. His hands were almost shaking as she arched against him and shuddered in pleasure. Pulling back from her, Nik stared down to where the swollen, feminine curves filled his hands. His thumb moved slowly, firmly, over a nipple, and he watched as a hard breath pushed her breasts tighter in his grip.
"Like ripe little berries," he whispered, his gaze lifting to stare into her mesmerized eyes.
Pleasure was swamping her. Nik knew the look, knew the flush of arousal out of control, the swollen lips parted to breathe easier. But there was more. Her eyes darkened to near purple, a wild glitter of hunger flickering in them as her little pink tongue moistened her lips.
"What are you saving yourself for, Mikayla?" he asked her. He needed to know. He had to know those dreams before he committed the ultimate sin of destroying them.
A sharp little inhalation.
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"Nik . . ."
"Tell me, baby," he growled. "Tell me what you've saved yourself for." She destroyed him when she answered. "You. I think I've waited forever for you, Nik."
One of these days, he'd learn not to push his luck, not to tempt fate, and to never question a woman, Nik thought as he pulled the Harley into a parking slot in front of the business and sales offices of Martin's Plumbing and Water Works. The store was on the outskirts of town, housed in a rough-hewn building reminiscent of days gone by. The appearance was deliberate, though, rather than a result of the building being run-down.
Before moving on in the investigation, Nik had a few questions for Scotty Martin. The three Martin sons were now working for their father's business. Before they had joined their father they had each worked in other construction areas. Their father had insisted they get the experience.
Scott was working the main store with his parents this week, Nik had learned. He had a few questions for the youngest son of the Martin clan. Namely, why the hell he had left his sister to hang out to dry after he'd found a ride that day. Striding into the store, Nik found the younger man immediately. Scott stared back at Nik with the same suspicious look the rest of the family had given him several nights before when he had assured them he would be looking after Mikayla's safety. None of them trusted him, and that was fine. But other than the father, Nik had not noticed anyone protesting too vociferously.
"Steele." Scott's eyes narrowed on Nik as Ramsey moved from the office in the back.
Nik nodded to the father before turning back to the son. "Could we talk for a minute?"
Scott shifted nervously. He was man enough to know exactly why Nik wanted to talk to him.
"I'll be back in a sec, Dad," Scott told his father before glancing at the parking lot.
"This can be taken care of in the office," Ramsey informed them both, obviously as sharp as any father. "Where I can watch you two." Nik almost let his lips quirk into a smile. Instead, he strode to the office, expecting the other two to follow and not really giving a damn if they did so agreeably.
"Mikayla doing okay?" Scott cleared his throat nervously as he and his father stepped into the office and the door closed behind them.
"She's doing fine," Nik assured Scott. "But all you had to do was call her to find that out, wouldn't you think?"
Scott cleared his throat again before glancing at Ramsey as he moved behind the desk and sat down.
"Scott's paying
Nik arched a brow and looked at Scott mockingly. The knowledge that Nik was deliberately courting Scott's father's protectiveness wasn't lost on the boy. He squirmed, ducking his head in shame before lifting his gaze to Nik's once more.
"I have some questions," Nik told them both as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs facing the desk. "First and foremost, who knew Mikayla was picking Scott up that 94
day?" He deliberately posed his question to the father rather than the son.
"Scott?" Ramsey asked, frowning as he glanced back at Scott.
"He can ask me," Scott growled. "Why is he asking you?" Ramsey continued to frown.
"When dealing with a child you go to the parent," Nik stated softly. "If you're a man, then we can dispense with a third party."
Ramsey glared back at Nik. "I think we're both aware Scott is no match for you, Mr. Steele."
"And I think we both know that the thought of Mikayla's ire is a far better deterrent in smacking that kid upside the head for his negligence than your anger or anything you could do, Mr. Martin," Nik said. "I have some questions, nothing more. But if you feel you must protect him, then neither of you should object when I deal with the matter as one adult to the other, and exclude him as much as possible." It was a tactic Nik's father had used on him, his brothers, his cousins, on more than one occasion.
"I can handle this," Scott protested, his shoulders squaring as he tried to tell himself as well as his father that he was a man.
Ramsey gave Nik another hard, warning look before standing slowly to his feet, nodding sharply, then leaving the room.
Nik remained in his seat, staring back at the young man with knowing mockery. Scott knew he'd just come face-to-face with judgment if he was lucky. A hell of a lot of hurt if he wasn't.
Nik got straight to the point.
"Why didn't you call your sister and let her know you had a ride rather than leaving her to arrive at a deserted construction site where anything could have happened to her?"
This had nothing to do with the investigation and everything to do with the primitive protectiveness rising up inside Nik for her.
"I forgot." Scott crossed his arms over his chest before tucking his hands beneath his armpits defensively, his shoulders hunching as though he carried the weight of that decision and it didn't sit well. "I was on the phone with Dad when she called. My phone was dying. I asked Dad to call her back. By then, she was already there and it was too late."
The boy shook his head before swallowing tightly, his gray eyes darkening with remembered fear. "I almost got her killed."
"Let it happen again, and it won't matter where I am, or what I'm doing. I'll come for you, Scott. You got that? I'll kill you."
The boy paled. "Yeah, you and the rest of the family."
"Your family will leave you breathing. I won't," Nik told him before gesturing to the chair next to the desk. "Tell me what you know about Eddie Foreman." Scott blinked but did as he was ordered. He sat down slowly, the awareness that he had gained no more than a reprieve from Nik evident in his gaze.
"He was an asshole," Scott breathed out heavily. "Always cutting corners, always trying to make deals and earn an easy buck."
"Mikayla said you witnessed an argument between him and Maddix Nelson?" Nik reminded Scott.
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Scott nodded. "I don't know exactly what it was over. I only caught bits and pieces. Maddix was accusing him of something from what I heard. I heard Eddie yelling from the construction office that he didn't do it, and that Maddix was crazy. I heard Maddix yell back that he'd pay for it, if he did."
"And you told the police this?" Nik pressed.
"Hell yes, I did." Scott frowned, anger darkening his gaze. "Bastards just blew me off. Said it didn't matter because Maddix didn't do it. My sister doesn't lie--" Nik held his hand up, recognizing that Scott was in danger of losing his temper. He needed Scott calm. This information wasn't in the police report. There were too many holes, too much information missing.
"Anyone else?" Nik asked. "Who could have wanted Eddie dead beside Maddix?" Scott shook his head. "Hell if I know. Probably everyone. Like I said, he was an asshole. . . ."
"What about that evening?" Nik asked. "Who else knew Mikayla was picking you up?"
Scott snorted at that. "Everyone. The guys like Mikayla, but she was late that day. I caught a ride, thinking maybe she had forgotten about me while she was sewing. She does that sometimes. Me and the boys I left with were the last ones out. Even Eddie had left before us. I have no idea why he came back to the job site." To meet with someone, evidently.
"What about Maddix?" Nik asked. "Did he come out to the site often?"
"Always after everyone else left," Scott replied. "And yes, I tried to tell the police that, and they still wouldn't listen."
But Nik had something to start with now. Unfortunately, that something was against Maddix himself.
Nik didn't trust anyone unconditionally, especially a man he owed a favor to. The suspicion had been cast, and now Nik had to figure out where it went.
"Scott, what about the chief of police and the council people he was meeting with that night? What do you know about them?"
"I know they're all in bed together." Scott leaned forward, his expression mutinous. "One way or another, through either business or sex, they're all up each other's asses and they have a damned good reason to lie for Maddix Nelson. He's one of them; Mikayla's not. That's why she's being treated like shit and that's why the police won't believe her."
If Maddix Nelson was lying to him, Nik would make damned certain he made good on that threat. There was a steel-hard core of determination riding inside Nik, one he didn't bother to fight. Strike against Mikayla and Nik would be the one to strike back. He'd always warned Maddix what would happen; Nik would leave it up to the other man to heed the warning or not.
Calling Nik had been a bad mistake if Maddix was involved in any way in the murder of Eddie Foreman or the attempted shooting of Mikayla. Of course, from a certain standpoint, it could have been considered a wise move. Hire someone to come in to prove Maddix was innocent with the excuse that he simply wanted to know why he was being targeted? That was damned good.
If Maddix and his alibis were lying, then Nik would make certain they all paid. When he rode out of town he would make sure there were no threats left against 96
Mikayla.
When he rode out of town.
That thought left a sour taste in his mouth, and a regret inside him he had been certain he wouldn't let himself feel.
He couldn't let himself feel. Because there wasn't a chance in hell he could stay. 97
Chapter 10
Mikayla walked into the house early that evening. Standing aside, she waited as Nik went through the house and then returned to the living room. One more evening that she had returned to find her home unviolated.
Lucky her. If only she could claim the same for her shop. There were more of Maddix Nelson's friends and their friends tripping in and out than there were of her own. Financially, it was good, but her nerves were shot.
"I have to go out for a while," Nik told her as he came back to the living room, his jaw flexing as though he were clenching his teeth.
"Fine. I'll leave your dinner in the oven." She shrugged as though it didn't matter. She wasn't going to let it matter. After the completely humiliating episode that afternoon, the less time she had to spend with him the better.
"I'll be sure to remember that." There was a dark, hungry sound in his voice, a rasp that sent a shiver racing up Mikayla's spine as he neared her. She breathed in deeply, drawing in the dark male scent of him. A hint of winter in the summer. A hint of heat on a cold winter's night.
"Mikayla." He paused before her; the way he towered over her should have made her feel something other than intensely feminine, protected.
"I thought you had to leave
She was cursed with her short stature, she determined. And before a man like Nik, so tall and broad, his towering over her and making her feel feminine and protected could be hazardous to the heart.
"You're a dangerous woman." His voice lowered, the ice in his eyes seeming to unthaw for just a second.
"And what makes you think I'm such a dangerous woman?" she asked, her voice stronger than she knew she actually was.
"Because you make me forget some hellacious lessons," he stated as his hand lifted, his thumb brushing against her lips gently.
They trembled at his touch. She couldn't help it. The need for his touch had been rising since he had walked away from her that morning.
Who was she kidding? The need for his touch was about to drive her positively insane. She had never ached like this. To the point that her entire body was sensitized, hyper, on fire. She was burning alive.
"I thought you were leaving," she repeated, the little squeak in her voice as her lips brushed against his thumb.
Oh man, she needed desperately to tighten her thighs, to put just a little pressure on her clit to ease that tingling little burn going on down there. The way he was looking at her was driving her crazy. As though he could see straight to that hungry, sexual part of her. The part that had wicked, nasty fantasies about 98
him.
"We'll talk later." That sounded like a threat. A sensual, hungry threat that had her sex clenching involuntarily as she forced herself to slide out of the way, to allow him to open the door and leave.
As the door closed behind him Mikayla could have sworn that some of the life in the room went with him.
That was exactly what she didn't need, she told herself as she forced herself to the bedroom. The life couldn't leave the room when he left; otherwise, how much worse would it be when he left her life, not just the room?
Guard against a broken heart, girl, she told herself as she stepped into the shower.
The shower might not have been the best idea, though, as the water sluiced over her naked flesh, heated and warm, caressing, her hands rubbing from her shoulders down, over her breasts, her waist.