Flirting With Disaster (30 page)

“Something’s wrong with Judah.” She unbuttoned his shirt, making him harder with every soft collision of her knuckles against his stomach.

He thumbed her nipple and kissed her again. “There’s a million things wrong with Judah. Let it go.”

“I have to figure out how to help him. Do you think Ben—Ohh …”

He’d rolled the nipple between his thumb and finger, knowing it would make her gasp and lose her train of thought. Right then, he didn’t give a damn about Judah or Ben or any of them. All he wanted was to be inside Katie. To wipe that line between her eyebrows away and replace it with bliss.

“Unzip me,” he said.

Her nails raked down his stomach, and she lifted a few inches off his lap so her fingers could find his cock and stroke him. “You have a serious problem here, don’t you? I think you could use this thing as a jackhammer.”

“I’m p-planning to. Unzip me.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

“My hands are busy.” He used one to pull down her bra far enough to get her nipple in his mouth. The other was inside her panties, reaching between her legs from behind.

He found her ready for him, even though her mind was elsewhere. When he sank two fingers inside her, rough in his haste, she gave a little cry and arched into his hand, asking for more.

“You’re wet.”

“It’s entirely possible that I’ve been wet for a week.”

“There’s a c-condom in my pocket,” he said. “How about you be a good g-girl for a change and get it out?”

Shifting sideways, he maneuvered her off his lap and onto her back on the bench. It was too short for her legs, but she’d have her ankles behind his back soon enough. He crawled up over her, lowering himself to his elbows. The two of them just barely fit. He couldn’t take the time to get her over to the bed. It was this bench or the floor.

“How about I don’t?” She lowered his zipper at last and took him in her hand, an agonizing pleasure. “I’m on the birth control shot. I can’t get pregnant.”

He’d been about to kiss her again, but he stopped a millimeter from her lips. “You’re not … You’re serious?”

“I want you without a condom.” She brushed her free hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ve only been with Levi, and I got tested after he left, just in case he … Well. So as long as you’re—”

“I’m clean.” All the blood in his body had relocated to his cock. “I promise.”

She kissed him softly. “I trust you.” Her hands journeyed up the length of his back, smoothing over his concerns. “I want you.” She smiled. “If you’re going to distract me, do it properly, huh?”

He had her garters unclipped and panties off in record time, and then he was kneeling over her again, sliding inside her, skin to skin. He groaned.

She whimpered.

He withdrew a few inches and sank deeper.

“Haven’t done this without—oh, fuck—without a c-condom.”

“Ever?” she asked incredulously.

“In a long time.”

“It’s … nice,” she squeaked.

In to the hilt, he had to stop and count to ten before he could even consider moving or speaking. It was too much.
She
was too much, and he was practically cross-eyed with the need to grip her shoulders tightly and slam into her until he found oblivion. He’d never had to work this hard to go slow before. Nothing in his life had prepared him for Katie.

“Nice?” he said fiercely. “Nice is a lemonade stand.” He withdrew and thrust deep. “Nice is a picnic on the lawn. This is not—
nice
. You are not a nice woman. You are fucking—sstupefying.”

Katie rolled her head back, letting it hang off the edge of the bench. Every time he thrust, he pushed her a little farther off. She didn’t seem to mind. She dangled her arms above her head and smiled.

“Fuck me stupid, Sean,” she said. “I dare you.”

He did his best, thrusting hard, pushing against the limits of his tolerance and pushing back every dark admission that wanted to spill out of him. Giving her the only thing he had to offer. He couldn’t make it last, but it was dirty and good, and it was worth every second of the effort it cost him.

Katie started to tighten. She wrapped her arms around him and tucked her head up against his chest, sheltering from a storm that made her gasp and cry out. He held her there as he reached his own climax, one hand flat against her upper back, carrying his weight on his elbow as he spilled himself inside her.

When it was over, he rolled, tumbling to the floor with Katie cradled against his chest. She let out a breathy little laugh and went limp, petting his chest with the tips of her fingers.

Somewhere in that moment, or in the uncountable minutes afterward while they lay together on the floor, panting and soaked in pleasure, he figured it out.

He loved her.

He was so fucked.

“Aren’t you going to button your shirt?” Katie asked.

“Hundred bucks says that’s Judah.” Leaning against the headboard and typing in his rapid-fire fashion, Sean didn’t even look up from his laptop. “I think we’re past c-courtesy. Besides, he’s lucky if I don’t take a c-crack at him for k-kissing you last night.”

Katie rolled her eyes as she finished zipping up her jeans. Sean Owens: World’s Manliest Geek.

She scanned the room one last time as she crossed it. Sean’s gadgets adorned the glass-topped table, their clothes from last night lay in a heap on the floor next to the upholstered bench where he’d rocked her world, and Sean himself was propped against the headboard, looking rumpled and delectable in a nerdy sort of way as he answered email.

For a second, her heart squeezed, and she considered ignoring the summons to the door. She didn’t want to share him with anyone, didn’t want to open herself to whatever assault was about to be launched on her peace.

The knock came again, and she opened the door.

Judah grinned. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“You smell like a still.”

“I’m sober now,” he said. “Cross my heart. It’s been hours since I destroyed a hotel room while snorting coke and—what else do corrupt celebrities do?”

“Bonk starlets.”

“That, too. Speaking of bonking …” He glanced pointedly at the intermingled pile of clothes on the floor.

“Let’s not.”

“Whatever you say. Can I come in?”

She wanted to send him away. He’d hurt her last night, and probably that was her own fault. She shouldn’t be trying to help him or save him or whatever it was she was doing. Shouldn’t feel sad that he was such a catastrophe of a human being, or relieved that he’d come back to her.

She’d spent more than eight years in Alaska being Levi’s support system—cheerleading him on the path to attaining his life goals, helping him study for his exams, earning enough money to keep them both in canned soup. He’d left her anyway. Women who turned themselves into doormats got walked on. How many times did she need to prove it to herself before the lesson stuck?

“Katie?”

She moved out of the way.

Judah strolled into the room and picked up a green apple from the bowl on the table. “Do you suppose they wash these?”

“Are they even real?”

“Let’s find out.” He dropped onto the pale blue suede chair by the window and tossed her the apple. She caught it close to her stomach and held it there, unsure whether to stand or sit. Was this a casual visit, a showdown, an apology? With Judah, she never knew what she’d get.

“Classy joint for Iowa,” he said. “Last time I was in Iowa City, I slept on somebody’s floor.”

“About that,” Katie said. She sat down across from him, holding the apple between her knees. “Is this the Judah Pratt Nostalgia Tour or what? Why are you doing shows at all these places you played as a teenager?”

Sean had found it in his notes—an old article from a fan newsletter confirming that Judah had been booked at the Yacht Club the same summer he’d played the High Hat.

Katie sank her teeth into the apple. It was lip-puckeringly sour, its skin tough and waxy. Judah raked his hand through his hair, sloughing off his false cheer to reveal the darker, pensive mood beneath. His eyes said,
Don’t go there
.

She ignored the warning. He’d hired them to solve a problem for him, and that’s what Katie intended to do. If he didn’t like it, he could fire them for real. If he wanted to make up for being a dick last night, he could answer her questions.

No answer appeared to be forthcoming.

“He’s never actually played the Yacht C-club before,” Sean pointed out from the bed.

“Yeah, but he was going to.”

“How do you know that?” Judah asked.

Sean kept typing.

“I talked to a guy in Louisville who runs your fan club this morning,” Katie said. “He remembers that summer. He said you had a tour all planned out, and you and Ben had bought a van. It was all you could talk about. Then Paul came to one of your shows one night, and a couple of weeks later all of you disappeared, and you washed up in L.A. What I want to know is, why’d you cancel the tour?”

Judah looked out the window at the Iowa City skyline, such as it was. Bleak and uninviting in the weak light of this overcast February morning. “Paul.” After a moment, he shook his head, negating his own statement. “Nah. It was me. I wanted to be famous, and I let Paul talk me into it. Worst decision I ever made.”

He looked beyond tired—weary in a tight-muscled, tension-headache sort of way. Haunted.

“But you got to be a musician.”

“It wasn’t fair to Ben,” Judah said, still not looking at her. “We had plans. He had a future … I was the only one who got what I wanted.” He sighed, turning her way at last. “I’m a real shit-heel, Kate. Not much of a friend. You could probably do better.”

“Was that supposed to be an apology?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For taking my bad mood out on you last night, and for insulting you when you were only trying to help me. Okay?”

She didn’t want to forgive him, but it had been a decent apology. He was getting better at it.

“Does this mean I’m un-fired?”

“Yes. Sorry about that, too.”

“You should quit drinking.”

“So Paul keeps telling me.”

Katie glanced at Sean. Something in his steady blue gaze helped shore up her confidence. Affirmed her.

He set his laptop down on the bed and crossed his arms, his attention shifting to Judah. “Did you c-call Ben?” he asked. “Did you tell him you would be here?”

“No,” Judah said. “He must have figured it out. Like you said, I’ve been playing all the
places we were going to go that summer.”

“Is he the one threatening you?”

Judah shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

His mask of unconcern was so habitual, so practiced, she couldn’t see past it. Not unless that was what he wanted. This morning, it wasn’t. Yes, he was sorry, but he’d pulled away regardless.

“So what now?” she asked.

“The tour’s over. I played my songs, people liked them. Now I go home and record.”

“And the messages?”

“Give me a call when you figure it out.” Abruptly, he stood and moved toward the door, brushing his hand over her shoulder as he passed her. “Take care, Katie.”

Then he was gone.

Katie stared at the door for a few seconds before she turned to look at Sean. “What just happened?”

“I’m not sure.” He ditched the laptop on the side table and patted the bed beside him. “C-come here.”

Katie crawled over his legs to stretch out next to him, tucking her cheek into the space between his chin and his chest where it fit so nicely.

From day one, everything about this job had knocked her off balance and confused her. She was tired of feeling out of her league, tired of getting nowhere. Tired of being the partner who didn’t know what she was doing.

She was hurt, too. Somehow, she’d once again ended up caring about a guy who asked for her help and then walked out on her. It was a platonic love this time, but that didn’t take the sting out of Judah’s rejection.

Sean rubbed her back in slow strokes, up and down. “I d-don’t know why Judah’s running,” he said. “But you and I are g-going to find out.”

“We are?”

“We are. I hate unsolved mysteries.”

“Unsolved mysteries the thing or
Unsolved Mysteries
the show?”

“Both.” He smiled down at her. “I’m not giving up until I have the full sstory. And neither are you, because I need you.”

“You do?” She’d turned into an echo, asking one empty question after another, but only because Sean kept saying things that surprised her.

“I do. Now are you ready to get b-back to work?”

“Almost.” She slid one hand inside his open shirt to flatten over his ribs, lowering her cheek so she could listen to the beating of his heart. There was something poignant and unbearably intimate about the feel of his warm skin under her hand, the bones beneath, the sound of his breath in her ear.

Something so much bigger than a fling.

She swallowed the tightness in her throat and rose to give him a kiss full of gratitude and confusion.

Sean slid his hand over the nape of her neck and kissed her back, deep and reassuring, and before too long it turned into another sort of kiss altogether, and then into a distraction that took her mind off her worries and kept him off his computer for rather a long time.

“Henry James Callahan, if you don’t come out from under there, I swear to you that you will never eat another M&M,” Ellen said.

Katie watched the play of emotion over Henry’s open face as he considered whether his mother’s threat had enough merit to bring him out from under the rack of bridal gowns. In the end, it didn’t. Henry had the run of the place, and he knew it. His mother couldn’t get away from the bridal shop owner who was putting a tuck in the bodice of her long, white gown, and Katie was in the same predicament with the teenager who was pinning her own gown.

Luckily, another member of the wedding party sailed through the door at that moment. “Sorry we’re late,” Carly said. Ellen’s brother, Jamie, came in behind her carrying baby Isadora.

“No problem,” Ellen replied. “Can you get Henry out from under those dresses?”