Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (8 page)

Their eyes met now, and in the face of her wordless pain, King gave up the struggle to not touch her. Gently, he wrapped her in his arms, not holding her anywhere as tight as he fantasized about in the shower every morning and every night. The last thing he wanted to do was intimidate her, or make her feel like she had no say in the situation. He wanted her to
want
to be exactly where she was; maybe even welcome it.

She was so small, so soft. He cradled her, mindful of his immense strength, knowing that he could break her without a second of thought. Not that he ever would – he’d never hurt this woman. Hell, no…he wanted to keep her safe and close, away from ugly and dark things. He hoped very much that over the past few weeks, she’d come to see him as
not
one of those kinds of things, despite how he earned a living.

Naomi was stunned to find herself pressed up on Matt’s chest. Weeks and weeks of staring at it, of imagining what it would be like to touch it, and she’d gotten it totally wrong. In reality, it felt
better
than she’d thought it would: he was stronger, larger, harder.

He smelled of something earthy and spicy and her whole body absorbed it. Matt was all man; all dangerous, tender man. A man that she’d do anything to have on her, in her, just once. A man that was
exactly
what she had to stay away from at this point in her life – but she couldn’t. Not in this moment. In this moment, she needed him.

Just one minute here. It doesn’t mean anything much to a man like him, I know, and it can’t mean anything much to you. But you need it right now. So take it.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she fell in to him. Her whole body shook, and she didn’t know now if it was from fighting back her tears or her desire. Matt’s hands were on her back, stroking and soothing, and he just stood silent. He let her take what strength and warmth she needed, and he waited for her to be OK again. Seconds passed, then a minute, and Naomi calmed.

She pulled back now, her beautiful eyes averted, her cheeks flushed. She was embarrassed, he saw, and he rushed to reassure her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You OK?”

“Yeah.” She stepped back, her body unhappy that she’d broken contact. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No.” He shook his dark head. “Don’t be… I liked it.”

Her eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yep.” He smiled, glad to be honest and finally tell her how he felt. “Quite a bit, actually.”

“Oh. Oh, God.” She stepped back even farther. And
this
is what happened when she let her guard down and when she didn’t maintain her boundaries: she sent out an invitation to the one goddamn man on the planet that she needed to stay the hell away from.

Her distancing made him pause. “Naomi?”

“I’m sorry, Matt… I didn’t mean to – to lead you on, or tease you. I swear I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.” He stared at her, taking in her distress fully. Any plans he had of asking her to dinner again were immediately scrapped, and he played it cool. “You just needed a hug, right?”

“Right.”

“Naomi
–
”

Her work phone rang now and she lunged at it, deliriously grateful to not have to talk to him anymore. She answered, hoping to God that she sounded semi-normal.

“Naomi Abbott.”

“Hi, Naomi. This is Caitlin Endridge.”

“Oh, hi, Caitlin.” She took a deep breath. “Are we still on to finalize details for the auction this afternoon?”

“We are. Three o’clock?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

She hung up and was relieved to see that Matt had backed off completely. He was on the other side of her desk again.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“Sure,” he said, trying to stop himself from reaching for her again, but it was hard.

Christ, she’d just fit so perfectly up against him, and she’d felt so good. He knew now – as sure as he knew the sun was going to rise tomorrow – that Naomi was meant for him. She was
his
and he was exactly the kind of man who claimed what was his – no apologies and no hesitation.

The problem was, of course, that she didn’t seem to feel the same way about him. She seemed to have no desire whatsoever to claim King as her own, as the man who’d do and be and give fucking
anything
for her. Maybe she’d never get past what he did for a living, the kinds of people he dealt with. Maybe he’d always be dirty and dangerous, no matter how careful and caring he was with her.

As she stared at his gorgeous face, Naomi entertained a brief and wildly ridiculous fantasy of telling Matt the whole, unvarnished truth. Just setting it all down in front of him: her alcoholism, her mother, Patrick. Just being honest, honest to the point of being completely open and vulnerable and out of control of the situation. Trusting Matt with her ugliest, darkest secrets; letting him see her as she really was, showing him her most hidden self.

Then she imagined his reaction to all of the things she’d done to get a drink, all the things she’d done while drunk, and that got her head on straight. If she had to bet, she’d say that he’d be horrified and disgusted at her, and he’d never look at her the same way again. The thought of him going all polite and impersonal on her hurt, and she stiffened her resolve to hold him at arm’s length.

Arm’s length… even though being in his arms was the closest thing to heaven I have ever, ever known.

“OK, well. Have to get going.” King stood up again, eager to get away from Naomi before he fell to his knees and fucking begged her to be his. “Busy day at the office.”

She was hurt at his obvious desperation to flee her presence, but she forced a smile. “Here too. The auction is in a week, you know.”

“Yeah, I remember. How’s it going?”

“Oh, not bad. Under control.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it is good.”

They looked at each other again, a million things unsaid between them. After a few seconds, King turned and left, and Naomi retrieved her coin. She held it to her lips for a long time, just breathing and letting herself feel the waves of pain and loss yet again. Then she called Mirrie.

**

“No,” Sarah said, her voice pure steel. “Noah will not testify to what he saw the night of my attack. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Sarah,” Felicia Mendez said, trying to be patient with her client. “He’s our only witness.”

“And he’s autistic. You
really
think the defense isn’t going to torture him on the stand? Question him until he cracks, gets hysterical? Maybe even hurts himself?” She shook her head. “No way. This is my decision and my answer is no.”

“So what are you saying?” Felicia asked. “You don’t want to take this to trial?”

“
Can
we even take it to trial?” Sarah said. “Noah isn’t going to be seen as a strong witness and I have almost no memory of what happened. What do we even have to show in the way of evidence, besides the physical?”

“Your memory of that night hasn’t come back at all?”

“I remember Dave kicking in the front door and telling me that I was a biker’s dirty slut,” Sarah said. “I remember him choking me and punching me to the floor, and beyond that, it’s all a blank.”

Jax tensed, took her hand. He hated to think about what she’d gone through that night; he still had nightmares about the way he’d found her, broken and bleeding on her living room floor. He knew it was wrong, but a big part of him was glad that she had no memory of what Dave had done to her. Some days, he hoped that she’d never remember.

“OK, well.” Felicia looked down at her papers. “We
do
have the DNA under your nails and his blood and hair at the scene. And a neighbor did say she saw a man of Dave’s description leaving your house in a hurry. But that’s all we’ve got.”

“So… plea bargain?” Jax said. He was impatient to get to the goddamn point, since the back-and-forth between lawyers had been dragging on for weeks now. Enough was enough. “Is that what you’re driving at?”

“Yes. Almost definitely.”

“With jail time?” he said.

“Maybe a year, at most.”

“
A year
?” Jax leaped to his feet. “For beating Sarah in to a coma? Fuck that.”

“It’s the law, Jax,” Felicia said. “This is how it works.”

Fuck. Maybe I should have beaten him senseless when I had the chance.

“OK,” Sarah said calmly. “If that’s the best there is, then take it.”

They both stared at her.

“Sarah,” Jax said. “You’re saying… you’d be OK with that asshole getting a year?”

“At most?” Felicia added.

“Am I thrilled?” Sarah said. “No. Of course not. But I want to get on with my life, guys. I want to focus on my recovery, and on Noah’s painting career, and on my relationship with you, Jax. I have things to do, you know? I don’t want to spend years dealing with Dave, thinking about Dave, fighting with Dave, only to lose in the end, anyway. I want to shut that door, once and for all.”

“Sarah.” Jax spoke as softly as he knew how. “Are you sure, baby?”

She gazed back at him and he smiled at the look in those blue eyes. Pure determination, courage and heart. That was his girl all the way, and he fully relaxed now. He’d have her six, no matter what she decided. This was her call, and hers alone.

“I’m sure,” she said. “I have to decide how I want to live my life, Jax. And I choose healing and happiness.”

“OK,” he said, his throat tight with love for her. “Then that’s what we do.”

They both looked back at Felicia, who nodded. Their unified front was oddly touching and moving, and she found herself smiling at them.

“OK,” Felicia told them. “So that’s what we’ll do.”

Chapter Seven

Naomi sighed and rolled her shoulders back to ease some of the tension there. The auction was that evening and she was stressed to the eyeballs. OK, yes, everything was ready and she was confident of a successful event, but still. The control freak in her was rearing its ugly head big-time.

Oh, come on now. Admit to what’s really bothering you. Pretending it isn’t there isn’t going to make the situation go away. Classic alcoholic behavior: ignore the big old purple elephant in the room! Cover your eyes and nobody can see you!

OK, the truth, then. The truth was that she hadn’t spoken to Matt since that awkward conversation in her office the week before, and that was bothering her. A lot. Oh, sure, she’d seen him when he dropped Callie and Noah off; they’d exchanged hurried greetings and comments about the brutal winter weather. Safe and polite and generic.

It was crystal clear to her now that letting him see her in that moment of weakness had been a huge mistake. Men
hated
heavy emotional shit, and Matt was about as male as men got. He’d gone all white knight for the damsel in distress – then when she didn’t offer up his reward, he rode off in to the sunset.

Was that fair, though? Or was that her mother’s conditioning talking? Naomi knew damn good and well that her faith in men was shaky at best, and her years of alcoholic drinking hadn’t brought the best kinds of men in to her life. Was she mentally writing Matt off as a shallow, womanizing bastard just because she expected men to be shallow, womanizing bastards?

Or maybe he’s really just a shallow womanizing bastard.

She sighed again, got to her feet. She wandered in to the small bathroom attached to her office, and gazed at herself in the mirror. Behind her, she saw her dress for that evening hanging on the shower curtain rod. She planned to clean up and get ready here, to save time as the inevitable last-minute problems unfolded. Best to be on-site and not trying to deal with things on the phone.

She looked in to her own eyes, demanding total honesty from the woman standing there. No bullshit; not anymore.

Truth Number One: she was attracted to Matt Kingston to the point of fever pitch. She was deeply, crazily, out-of-control
turned on
by the man. She wanted to peel off his clothes and touch that huge, muscular body with her fingertips, with her tongue. Her pussy gave a helpless pulse at the thought of Matt groaning under her as she licked him, stroked him with her hot mouth. She’d take him to the edge of orgasm and then take him in to her body, as deep and hard as he could go. The thought of how he’d feel inside her, how he’d look when he came, made her breathless.

Besides her pure lust for him, there was also Truth Number Two: she liked him. He was kind, funny, smart. And God, the way he was with Callie and Noah was touching and genuine. More than once, it had almost reduced her to tears to watch them all together.

But here came Sad Truth Number Three: despite these two realities, she was an alcoholic in recovery. She wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with a committed relationship,
especially
with a guy who didn’t do commitment
or
relationships. One day she would be ready to be with a man, for sure – but not now. And with a player like Matt? Not ever.

Which led to Damn Truth Number Four: no matter what her body wanted, or what her heart ached for, her head had to take the lead here. And her head was telling her to stay away from Matt; as far away as she could get.

Truth Number Four sucks.

**

King sighed as he watched Noah and Callie put on their indoor shoes. Fuck, the urge to walk down that hallway to Naomi’s office was strong today. He hadn’t set foot in it since she’d rejected his cautious advances the week before, and it was only through sheer force of will that he stayed put. Showing his hand had obviously been a huge mistake, and no way he was in a rush to be so stupid again.

“Hey, King?”

He turned to see Caitlin standing there, looking harassed.

“Hey, Caitlin. How’s it going?”

“OK.” She pushed her hair back off her face. “Most everything is ready for tonight, but I was wondering if maybe you could help with a few things?”

“Yeah, of course. What do you need?”

“Can you come back this afternoon? Maybe around two?”

“No problem.”

“Oh, great. Naomi’s closing up the Heart Center early today so we can clear the main room and set up. We’ll need some help with moving the tables and easels and supplies in to one of the spare rooms in the back, and setting up the stage, and moving the pieces for auction in to the order listed in the catalogue.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” She wandered away, looking distracted.

“OK,” King said to Callie. “So you have a good morning, sweetie. Make lots of art.”

“I will.” She smiled up at him. “And tonight is the auction.”

“It is.” He ran one hand over her long dark hair affectionately. “You want me to buy your sculpture for a whole lot of money?”

“No!” she said. “You have lots already. Let someone else buy it.”

“OK.” He shifted his attention to Noah now. “And how many paintings do you have going up for sale, man?”

“One.”

“It’s really good,” Callie piped up.

Both men stared at her, stunned at her volunteering that kind of information.

“Is it?” King said. “You’ve seen it?”

She nodded.

Noah swallowed, shuffled his feet. King could actually
see
him gathering up his courage to say something to Callie, and King found himself rooting hard for the younger man.

“Your sculpture is good too,” Noah finally whispered.

King shut his eyes in relief, in disbelief.

“Is it?” Callie whispered back. “You’ve – you’ve seen it?”

Noah nodded.

The silence stretched out between them and King fought with himself to not fill it, to stay totally still.

“I like you,” Noah blurted. “I think you’re nice.”

Callie blushed a bright red.

“Pretty, too,” Noah added, obviously crazed with courage at this point.

“I – you – thank you,” Callie murmured.

More silence.

“I like you too,” Callie said. “I think you have nice eyes.”

Noah turned purple. “Thank – thank you.”

King bit his lip to stop a smile from splitting right across his face.

“Do you – do you want to do sculpture today?” Callie said in a rush. “Come with me?”

Noah almost reeled backwards. “Not painting?”

“No. Sculpture.”

“I – I’ve never…” Noah floundered. “I don’t know how.”

“I can show you,” Callie offered. “I can help.”

“And on Monday you do painting?”

“Yes. Monday painting.” She smiled up at him. “With you, OK?”

“OK.”

They turned and walked off together. They weren’t touching, not even looking at each other, but King could see the connection between them as clear as day. He heaved a huge sigh, delighted for them, already looking forward to calling Sarah and his sister Lori and filling them in. They’d talked about the whole situation, and they had all been hoping for the best.

You go, man. Thank God one of us has got his shit together when it comes to the ladies.

**

Late that afternoon, King walked in to the Heart Center, carrying the last speaker. He was acutely aware of the fact that everyone had gone home to get ready for tonight – everyone except Naomi. They were alone, and he was itching to get the hell out of here before he pulled a Noah and blurted out his feelings to the woman. He strongly suspected that Naomi wouldn’t be nearly as welcoming as Callie had been.

He set the speaker down on the raised stage, then spotted Naomi ten feet up on the damn ladder again, and he shook his head.

Jesus Christ. Stubborn
woman. I was only outside for three minutes
.

“Hey,” he said. “I told you to wait for me to do that.”

“It’s fine.” She stretched out her arm, straightening the sign. “This is the last one.”

He walked over to her now, stood under the ladder. He admired her ass in those jeans as she got up on her tip-toes and leaned over a bit. She leaned a bit farther, and farther again, and King felt concern flare in his chest.

“Hey, careful,” he said. “You’re going to lose your –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Naomi lost her balance. With a shriek of surprise, she fell. King automatically stepped forward, arms extended, and he caught her easily. She landed on her back with a very unladylike “Oooof!”, and she landed hard. It all happened so fast, she didn’t fully understand where she was. Stunned and confused, she closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings, and he gathered her close.

She felt his arms around her, felt his heartbeat against her cheek.
God
, he was pure muscle, and hard and huge everywhere. He was
so
hard, in fact, that it hurt to land on his broad chest like that, and Naomi wondered briefly if she may actually have been better off hitting the floor. Her breath had been knocked out of her by the force of impact, and she gripped his t-shirt and gasped for air.

“Hey,” King said, a bit shaken at how badly she could have been injured. “You OK?”

She nodded, still holding on to him.

“Naomi?” He shifted her a bit in his arms, trying to see her face. “Talk to me. You alright?”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes now and stared up at him. “I just – it happened so fast.”

“I know.” He saw how pale she was from the shock. “Take a minute, OK?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, Matt.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You can let me go now.”

He didn’t want to, though. He wanted to walk right on out of there with her in his arms, wanted her all wrapped around him as he took her back to his place. He wanted to hold on to her until he laid her down on his bed, and then he’d only let her go long enough to undress her. He’d make love to her until she called his name and came undone in his arms, and then he’d hold her some more. He’d hold her all night long, and she’d wake up in the morning, still cradled in his embrace.

How can she seriously expect me to let her go? I’m only human.

Naomi gazed up at him, breathless again, but now for a completely different reason. Good Lord, the look on his hard face was something else. Such intensity, and all of it directed entirely at her. She shivered: a bit out of fear, far more out of desire, and he felt it. Her eyes were melting up at him and their dark, hot depths were all he saw.

Come
on
,
man
.
She
might
say
yes
.
The
answer
may
be
yes
.

Finally giving in to his longing to taste her, he lowered his head and took her mouth. Gently at first, but when she moaned and twisted in his arms to get closer, he cupped the back of her head in one huge hand and pulled her in tighter. King deepened the kiss, ran his tongue over her perfect lips, swallowed her gasp of desire in to his own mouth.

Naomi couldn’t believe how good he felt and without one second of thought, she raised both hands to his face. His stubble rasped against her sensitive palms, and it felt better than she’d imagined. He tasted like mint and citrus, and he smelled of musk and spice, and she couldn’t get enough of him.

He kissed her over and over again and she responded: she said yes. All female heat and need; so soft and curved against his muscle and hard planes. King kissed her like he owned her and she ached to just let him take her. Any way he wanted; as many times as she could take him.

King shifted her again, held almost her whole weight on one massive forearm, freeing his other hand to move over her now. His fingers tightened on her cheek as he kissed her, then he moved his hand down her body. She arched when he caressed her throat and stroked down slowly.

Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly, and he skimmed her side until he reached her hip, slid over her taut stomach, glided up her body again to her other breast. Naomi gave a low cry against his mouth when he circled her nipple, and he kissed her harder, deeper.

“Naomi,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. God, I’ve wanted you like this for so long…”

His words smashed through her lust, the verbal equivalent of a bucket of freezing cold water. Suddenly, she saw how this would look to anyone just stumbling on to this scene, and she was horrified. She was totally out of control of this situation, and she was seconds away from giving everything to a man who hadn’t even taken her out on a date. A man who was a known player and commitment-phobe. A man who was the exact opposite of the kind of man she should be with in recovery.

Oh, my God. What the hell am I doing?

“Matt!” She jerked back, struggled to free herself. “Put me down!”

“Hey, it’s OK…”

“It’s
not
OK. Let me go, right now.”

“Alright, Naomi… whatever you want.” He took a calming breath. “I’m not going to force you.”

Carefully, he set her on her feet, watching to make sure she didn’t sway or fall. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she backed right up. King stared at her, totally stunned at her quicksilver change in mood. Ten seconds ago, she’d been liquid fire, writhing and murmuring in his arms, her soft hands on his face. And now, she was looking at him like he was a frightening stranger who was trying to drag her in to an alley, and she was about as warm and welcoming as an iceberg.

“Honey…”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, trying to ignore the way her nipples tightened and tingled at his possessive growl.

“OK, I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Naomi. What’s wrong?”

“I – I shouldn’t have… that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why not? It’s clear we both wanted it to.”

“That doesn’t mean that it was a good idea.”

King grinned, slow and sexy. “Actually, that means that it was a fucking
great
idea. That was the hottest kissing I’ve ever known in my life, and I want more of it. More of you.”