With Extreme Pleasure Page 9

  King would keep her safe.

  “I can get Fitz to pony up for another,” he said, taking a step in reverse, his expression torn, as if he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, but neither did he want to be more of a burden than a help.

  She shook her head, took the key, and opened the door. “This will be fine.”

  It would be more than fine. She wouldn’t have it any other way—but that she kept to herself. Just as she did her plans for spending the night curled up beside him.

  After everything they’d been through, after being reminded so graphically of Kevin’s murder, she wanted to be able to scoot her toes across the mattress and find King there. She wanted his warmth, his scent, his weight on the mattress to remind her that she wasn’t alone.

  It was hard to process that she was finally letting her guard down because of someone she didn’t even know.

  She tossed her backpack to the bed nearest the door. King did the same with the bags of things they’d found waiting in Fitzwilliam McKie’s car.

  Who he’d sent shopping for them and when was as much a mystery as the man, but Cady wasn’t going to worry about anything involving McKie or what he wanted of her.

  At least not for the next eighteen hours.

  He was due to deliver a replacement vehicle to King in the morning. Thinking about him could wait until then. It might be only noon, but she needed a good night’s sleep.

  She also needed a shower.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” King said before she could make a move toward the bathroom door.

  She stood watching as he ripped off the paper scrub top and wadded it into a ball. “Feel better now?”

  He glanced around the room. “No beer, no crawfish, no sunshine. Nope. Don’t feel any better at all.”

  He was here because of her. He’d lost his way home, everything he had with him, and his plans because of her. Yet since driving away from Freehold Township, his complaints had been tempered by humor, couched in sarcasm.

  Either he was all bark and no bite, or she hadn’t yet felt his teeth.

  The thought of his teeth brought to mind his mouth, and thinking about his mouth with him standing shirtless in front of her wasn’t smart.

  Especially when thinking about him in the shower had her thinking about his fig leaf, and oh, she did not need to go there when she was this incredibly tired.

  “I can’t do anything about the crawfish or the sunshine, but I can probably find you a beer.” That would require making a trip to the hotel bar if they didn’t have room service to deliver.

  She wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but she should be safe enough. No doubt McKie had his minions lurking, ready to ride in and save the day.

  King nipped off her worries. “I’ll settle for a pain pill. And about ten hours of sleep.”

  Except for his taking the meds, they were on the same page. A long hot shower and plenty of shut-eye.

  She’d be so glad to get out of these clothes and rid herself of the sooty grit from the fire and smoke and the sterile pine hospital smell that lingered.

  “Go ahead, then. Take your shower.” She pulled her laptop from the padded slot in her backpack. “I’ll see if the wireless is working since I never did get into my bank yesterday. I may need to stop and wait tables for a month before getting on with the rest of my life.”

  King stopped at the door to the bathroom. “If you’re going to be working with McKie, I’m sure he’ll be seeing to your finances.”

  That was one way to put it. “You mean paying me for being bait? Do you think I’ll get more than minimum wage? Or is bait a job grade at the bottom of the government pay scale?”

  “I mean he’ll see to your needs. Until you’re back on your feet.”

  Back on her feet. Was that King’s way of saying “out of my life”? Because that’s what this was about, wasn’t it? King handing her off to Agent McKie?

  “I’d rather see to my own needs.”

  “Yeah. I figured you would, seeing how that’s been working so well for you the past eight years,” he said, then slammed the door behind him.

  They were both tired and cranky and dealing with the sort of disaster aftermath very few people faced. She knew that. She knew better than to let his comment rile her.

  But those words—“working so well for you the past eight years”—scooted and squirreled their way into her mind like an irritation too deep to scratch. And his presumptive gall started to drive her mad.

  “One, two, three, four,” she muttered aloud, continuing on to ten. And then she continued to twenty.

  By that time, the shower was running, King singing, and her fury had taken on a life of its own. There was no one, absolutely no one, who could imagine what the last eight years had been like for her.

  That included estranged family members who’d known her since birth, and the friends and coworkers who’d supported her—even if from the periphery—through a whole lot of ups and downs they didn’t understand.

  To have Kingdom Trahan smart off to her about how she had handled things, when he hadn’t been there to know what she’d been through, was the breaking point at the end of a day she could just as well have done without.

  She left the laptop plugged into the socket on the table lamp and booting up on the extra bed and headed for the bathroom. Telling him off through another shower curtain was not how she’d have chosen to say her piece, but she was in no mood to wait for the optimal time and place.

  Unfortunately, her timing sucked. King wasn’t yet in the shower. Oh, he was on his way, had the curtain pulled back, one foot lifted to step into the tub, but he was completely dry. And completely naked.

  She quickly averted her eyes—just not quickly enough—from his muscled thighs and rump to his face, freshly shaved and still dotted with remnant blobs of shaving cream. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Are you sure?” he taunted, laughing, before stepping beneath the spray and closing the curtain behind him.

  Arrogant pig. Beast of a man.

  And yet she stayed where she was, shutting the door, breathing in the steam as it began to smell of King.

  “Was there something you wanted?” he asked her after sputtering out a mouthful of water. “Another look maybe? To share my hot water as part of your plan to fight global warming?”

  The day she showered with him, they’d better pray for global warming because hell would be freezing over. “What I wanted was to tell you to mind your own business. You don’t know anything about the last eight years of my life, or whether or not the choices I’ve made worked for me.”

  “You’ve been working dead-end jobs and bunking with dead-end roommates. That’s all I need to know.”

  She felt her blood pressure rising, her anger coming alive. “Sounds to me like you’re an expert at dead ends, recognizing them so easily the way you do.”

  “I spent a few years with nothing but a prison yard to run in, chère. Coming up against razor wire and walls lap after lap taught me a lot about dead ends.”

  “Maybe so,” she said, pushing away her chagrin. “But that doesn’t make you an expert on me.”

  “I never claimed to be. Hell, how could I be?” He sputtered more water, his feet squeaking against the floor of the tub. “You haven’t told me enough to give me a chance. Most of what I do know I learned from McKie.”

  She closed her eyes, powering up to being really pissed off. “That’s why you’re acting like a shit? Because I didn’t tell you everything?”

  “No, I’m acting like a shit because I am one. I thought you might have figured that out by now.”

  “I’m guessing it takes longer than twenty-four hours for the shit factor to fully manifest.”

  He jerked back the curtain, fuming, his eyes red and fiery, and this time he didn’t even bother with the rag. “If you’re not going to get in here and scrub me down the way I like, then get the hell out of my bathroom so I can do it myself. This conversation is over.”r />
  Cady couldn’t speak. King’s chest was heaving, his cock rising, his stitched-up head that he was supposed to keep dry soaking wet. This conversation was not over. He knew it as well as she did. But she wasn’t going to fight him over the time and place now.

  He arched a brow as if reminding her that he was waiting for an answer. She was feeling just perverse enough to goad him in return, so took her time leaving, giving him a thorough once-over, and then a careless shrug as if to say she’d seen it all before.

  She hadn’t, of course. And he knew it. Knew she had never in her life seen a man so thick and hard, or come across one who presented this one’s aggravating challenge to her ability to walk away.

  Her body responded, her nipples tightening beneath her T-shirt and the sports bra she’d put on to sleep in and had been wearing ever since.

  Their staring contest became a battle of wills, one she knew she could win by stripping down to her skin—a win that would become a loss when she joined him in the shower, which it was growing so tempting to do.

  And so she exited the room, the string of curses King uttered at full volume her consolation prize.

  She didn’t want to be here when he came out, but she had nowhere to go, and nothing to do once she discovered the wireless wasn’t working. She loathed daytime TV.

  Going to sleep without showering would’ve been an option had she been able to stand the smells that had seeped into her pores. But she couldn’t, and so she gathered the things she’d need to bathe.

  She stood beside the bathroom door waiting, her toiletries and clean clothes clutched to her chest. As soon as King opened the door and took two steps into the room, she ducked into the steamy space and locked herself inside.

  Outside, King howled with laughter. Even turning on the water didn’t drown out the maniacal sound she feared would ring in her ears forever. But then closing her eyes didn’t keep her from seeing him naked and fully aroused.

  She groaned, stripped, climbed into the tub, and sat, letting the water beat down on her battered and bruised body—a stinging punishment for stowing away with the man in the first place.

  Sixteen

  In a repeat of how yesterday’s bad evening began, King walked into the room to find Cady fast asleep in the bed they’d be sharing. He could only hope it wasn’t an omen that today would be just as bad.

  Just like last night, she’d stripped the spare bed of its bedspread, unloaded their crap on the sheets, and wrapped herself up safely to avoid any meeting of body parts in the middle of the night—or in this case, the day.

  After their earlier encounter, King had to side with Cady on the two of them needing their own space even if they were in the same bed.

  She’d pissed him off in a very big way.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d let her get to him, especially since it was what she hadn’t done, hadn’t said, rather than anything she had that infuriated him into nearly losing his temper.

  Here he was trying to get her out of trouble and to where she wanted to go, and she couldn’t be bothered to give him a map. Oh, she’d pointed out a landmark or two, had told him where to turn when it was time.

  But the big picture gaps she’d avoided had left him flying blind. And the fact that Fitzwilliam McKie had been the one to fill them in…

  King had been itching to light into Cady since hearing the details from the government man, but they’d ridden from the hospital to the hotel in silence, not talking until they’d reached the room.

  Since they were both beat, and he in no mood to be civil, he’d taken himself off to the shower before their sniping got out of hand.

  He’d never expected her to follow, which served to prove how tired he was, because if anything in life, he knew to expect the unexpected.

  All well and good to remind himself of that in hindsight, he grumbled under his breath, sitting in one of the room’s chairs to tug off his boots.

  Even the midday beer he’d had in the hotel’s restaurant bar while Cady showered had done nothing to douse the spark the fire in her eyes had lit in his gut.

  He’d tried to forget that moment in the bathroom, the one when she’d looked him over as if thinking of eating him alive. Really, he’d tried.

  He’d downed his beer, and tried. He’d thought about calling Simon and sharing the latest, and tried. He’d focused on the things McKie had told him, and tried.

  He’d failed every time.

  He’d never been one to say no to a woman who wanted him. And Cady would’ve had to be blind not to see that he was up for whatever she wanted.

  But goddamn they did not need that sort of tension between them. Here they were, making a detour into the unknown at the request of a man with a ridiculous name and an ID that didn’t prove much of anything.

  Adding sex to the mix was about the worst idea ever.

  So it figured that King couldn’t get sex off his mind.

  “I’m awake,” Cady said out of the blue.

  The room was dark, the heavy drapes drawn. He’d been able to see her form but not her eyes. Had she been watching him all this time? Listening to him mumble? Had she purposefully waited until his thoughts turned to sex to speak? And how had she known that they had?

  “Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

  “No, I mean, you didn’t wake me up. I wasn’t asleep.”

  Did that mean she’d been waiting up? “I’d’ve brought you back a beer if I’d known.”

  “I thought you didn’t want one.”

  “I changed my mind.” And if they were going to start in again with the sniping, he was going back for another. He held onto his boot just in case.

  “I thought that must be where you went.”

  A note would’ve been nice, dickhead. “Sorry. I should’ve told you.”

  “It’s okay. Really. I’m hardly your keeper.”

  “Yeah, but we’re rowing in the same crappy boat here, so…well…sorry.” He wasn’t big on apologies, but this one he meant.

  Cady sat up, left the light off. “You can go home. Fitz said he’ll figure out another way to do this if you want to check out. You’re pretty much an innocent bystander.”

  “And you’re not?” King dropped his boot to the floor. “Besides, how would it look to Malling at this point if you suddenly had wheels of your own? Not to mention he thinks we’re traveling together, and if tomorrow we’re not…”

  He had an out. A way home. Sunshine and crawfish on the horizon. McKie had offered it. Cady was offering it. And King was arguing his way right back in.

  He didn’t know if it was the beer or the pills or going on thirty-two hours without sleep, but he was obviously off his ever-lovin’ rocker.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.” The most sobering thing of all is that he was. Completely sure. “Of course, after a good night’s sleep, I may not be, so if you want to bring out a Bible for me to swear on, now would be a good time.”

  The sound she made was part laugh and part sigh, and had him feeling cozy all over. The fact that he let the word cozy enter his mind was almost as bad as imagining glass shards from the explosion embedded deep in his flesh.

  At least that stopped him from thinking about sex.

  “Did he tell you everything? McKie? Did he tell you about me getting Kevin killed?”

  He started to tell her that she wasn’t responsible for Kevin’s death. That Combs had broken the window, that Tuzzi had pulled the trigger, that Felwouk had been there, as had Malling who’d driven them away.

  Cady hadn’t been there that night. Yes, she’d stashed the mascot filled with heroine in her bedroom on the second floor of the family’s home. But that did not make her responsible for her brother’s death.

  King got out of his chair, walked between the two beds, and turned on the lamp farthest from Cady. “You didn’t get Kevin killed. I understand you feeling that way—”

  “Do you really? Or is that just one of those things that sound good when you
say them?”

  King braced his elbows on his knees, laced his hands, and hung his head. “I can’t feel the same emotion, the pain, or the anger or the wishing for a chance to go back and tell your friend to hide the mascot herself. But I can understand why those things haunt you.”

  A sad smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Haunted. Yeah. That’s exactly how it feels. It never goes away. Like a specter that’s always hovering over me.”

  He certainly hadn’t meant to make her put a name to her suffering. “Hopefully this plan of McKie’s will double as an exorcism, and you can get your life back.”

  Cady pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around the bedspread that covered them, propped her chin on top. “I think starting fresh with a new one is a better plan. Even if I help Fitz plug Tuzzi’s pipeline, it’s not going to change the past. Kevin will still be dead. My parents will still blame me. Malling, now that he’s out, and Felwouk’s and Combs’s friends will still make my life a living hell.”

  This was new. The fact that she was willing to put names and faces to her persecutors. She’d been vague, and reticent to do so thus far. “How’re they making your life hell exactly? Who’s doing it? Do you know?”

  “Tyler, for one.” When that didn’t ring a bell and King frowned, she added, “Alice’s boyfriend. The one who crawled into my bed.”

  It took several seconds for that to sink in, then…“Wait a minute.” King shot to his feet. “This bunch of drug-dealing thugs is responsible for you getting beat to a pulp? And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t know until today. When I got out of the shower and you weren’t here, I tried the wireless again. It was working so I checked my bank balance, and there was a charge I’d forgotten about.”

  King returned to where he’d been sitting. His jumping to conclusions wasn’t helping anything, and was going to cause Cady to clam up, leaving him scrambling for a flight plan again. “What was the charge?”

  She cringed, as if embarrassed. “I’d ordered a bottle of piña colada massage oil from Renee, my other roommate, for her sorority’s fund-raiser.”

  “Piña colada?”