Midnight Promises (13 page)

“Actually, I am.” Even she could hear the amazement in her voice.

Metal nodded. “Good. That’s a really good sign of healing. I’ll change your dressing later but first how about breakfast?”

The sky outside the window was dark and bruised-looking. “What time is it?”

“Around nine.”

“Wow! All I seem to do is sleep!”

“Yup. And you look it. You look really rested. But I’ll bet right now you need to use the bathroom.”

As he said the words, she felt an enormous urge to pee. “Yeah.”

“Let me help you and you can look at yourself in the mirror. Color has returned to your face, it’s amazing. So here’s how it’s going to work. I’ll help you to the bathroom and back and bring you some breakfast, which I think you should have in bed since it’s only us. I mean, what’s the point of being sick if you can’t have breakfast in bed, right? And then afterward, we’ll change the dressing and I can help you wash.”

Help her wash? She’d have to be, um, naked for that to happen, wouldn’t she? Ordinarily she’d shy away from that thought but instead she had an image of her naked and Metal’s huge hands on her, smoothing a sponge over her. Her entire body blossomed into heat.

She huffed out a breath in reply, totally unable to form words.

“Good.” He gently pulled back the blankets and lifted her out and up, setting her on her feet. “Can you stand? Do you want me to carry you?”

Wow. Being carried again. It had been amazing,
of course
she wanted him to carry her. But she found she could stand on her feet. Honesty and pleasure vied for a brief violent moment inside her and with a sigh of regret, honesty won.

“I can stand, thanks.”

It was really true. Standing, walking would have been beyond her twenty-four hours earlier but now she stood without swaying. She felt a little weak but nothing like before. She felt herself again. And though she wasn’t going to be carried to the bathroom—her new favorite mode of transportation—he kept a big arm around her back as she walked and that was second best after being carried. She walked normally but slowly, without shuffling, but she also had that strong arm right there, waiting to catch her if she had any problems at all.

It made her confident that she wouldn’t, couldn’t fall.

He stopped at the bathroom door. Raised his eyebrows.

“I can do this part myself,” she said and placed a palm against his chest. Underneath her hand was a slab of muscle, hard and dense. Surprisingly, he placed a large hand over hers, as if to keep her hand where it was.

As if her hand really wanted to be somewhere else insteading of touching the most exciting male chest she’d ever seen.

“Call me if you need me.” The tone wasn’t a request, it was an order. “I’ll be right outside.”

She nodded, dropped her hand, went into the bathroom and used the toilet. Washing her hands in the sink, she looked at herself carefully in the mirror. She looked…normal. Her stay-at-home face, sure. No makeup, no lipstick. But her skin color was good and her eyes looked bright, the whites clear.

The T-shirt had to go, though. She’d been wearing it for two days. Though it was kind of cool that she was wearing Metal’s T-shirt. To her knowledge she’d never worn anyone else’s clothing. It was an odd sensation, wearing someone else’s garment so close to her skin. It was blindingly white, very soft, washed many times and huge on her. It could have been a summer nightgown except it gaped so large at the throat.

Lauren had brought her some clothes. She’d have packed a nightgown, as well.

On the sink was a brand-new sealed toothbrush and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste. Smiling, she picked it up and brushed her teeth.

She looked at herself again in the mirror and found that she looked almost exactly as she looked every morning. Better, even. Most mornings she hadn’t slept for sixteen hours. The only difference was the slight bulge on her right side which were the bandages. Which Metal would soon change.

There would be healthy flesh beneath the bandages, she could feel it. Stretching, she felt the pull of the stitches but no pain at all. All in all, considering she’d been slashed three days ago, she was in pretty good shape. Some hot food in her stomach and she’d be in great shape.

True to his word, Metal was waiting for her right outside the bathroom. He smiled when he saw her, though he checked her out head to toe. He stuck his elbow out. “Ma’am? May I have the pleasure?”

Oh yeah. “Why yes, sir, indeed, sir. Most chivalrous of you.” Two could play at that game.

He walked her back to the bed and she got in. A wooden board rested against the mattress. He pulled her up against the headboard as if she were a doll, settled the pillows at her back and pulled up the board. Flipping open two legs he placed it across her lap.

“A bed tray!” Felicity looked him up and down. Healthy as a horse, strong and fit. The strongest and fittest man she’d ever seen, in fact. “Have you been sick?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Wounded, yes, but never sick.”

“Do you have a bed tray because you recovered from your wounds here? It seems a strange thing for someone who looks as healthy as you to have.”

“Nah. Made it for you. Look.” He directed her eyes and fingers to the undersides of the edges where neat small brass brackets held the bed tray legs open, allowing them to be folded back to the bottom of the tray when not in use. “Took a wooden tray and adapted it so you can eat in bed. Like I said, what’s the use of being knifed if you don’t get to eat in bed?”

She studied the hinges. They were absolutely perfect. There was nothing to tell that this wasn’t a commercial bed tray, that he had adapted it. The workmanship was exquisite. He’d done that for her. She had no idea when. Maybe while she had been asleep, only she seemed to have a sensory memory of him holding her hand all night. At some point, though, he’d taken the time and trouble to fashion the bed tray for her.

“Thanks.” She looked up at him, fingering the brass hinges. “That was incredibly thoughtful of you.”

He waved that away. “If you’re ready, then we can have breakfast together in here.”

“Oh!” Her stomach rumbled audibly and he smiled, patting the air as if saying
patience
.

“Hold that thought. Breakfast. Coming right up.”

It was an amazing breakfast. Oatmeal with honey and raisins, hot scones, slices of baked ham, more of that whole wheat bread and a cheese platter. And a bottomless Thermos of hot tea.

Metal put the plate and bowl and a huge mug of tea on her bed tray and used the bedside table as his own tray. He piled his plate with about three times the food she had.

“You first.” He was holding a spoonful of oatmeal in front of her. As soon as she opened her mouth he tipped the contents in. A friendly gesture but his face wasn’t looking friendly. He looked absolutely completely focused on her.

It was unsettling and sexy as hell to have this man so totally concentrated on her. It was partly the medic in him. He was studying her to see how she was.

And she was fine, just fine.

But there was also pure male interest. The way he looked at her, watched the food disappear into her mouth, observing every movement of her lips. She watched his mouth too.

At one point, they both lifted their gazes at exactly the same moment. With any other man she’d have laughed but she didn’t feel like laughing. They were watching each other so intently the moment felt solemn.

She dropped her gaze back to her food.

“Are you the cook or do you have a sister or significant other who brings you things?” she asked, then realized what that sounded like. It sounded like she was asking him if he was taken. Which wasn’t what she meant, of course. Much.

Metal looked her full in the face, expression sober. Felicity was blushing again, cursing herself. She was blurting things out because she was so weak and had no filter between brain and mouth. Her real curse was that she was unused to interacting with people. She was particularly unused to interacting with huge macho guys she happened to find very interesting and amazingly sexy. If she survived this, she was going to make a point of spending time with men who weren’t geeks. Practice up.

His face was completely without expression. Not blank so much as unreadable. “That was a question,” he said.

Felicity nodded. No use pretending.

“The answer is no. No mother, no sister, no significant other. No unsignificant other, either. No one. You?”

The question stumped her for a second and she knew her face was showing the real kind of blank, as in uncomprehending. Then of course she understood that he was asking the same question back. Was she in a relationship?

Well…no. She seemed to have this relationship force field around her. Men simply bounced off it. And of course she spent most of her time in the house.

No one had ever even asked her if she was with someone. Not even her few geeky boyfriends. They lunged at her when they got their courage together and it had much more to do with them getting in touch with their own gonads than with her.

“No,” she answered. “No one. Just like you.”

“Why?”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Metal narrowed his eyes and looked her over, making no move to hide what he was doing. “You’re beautiful and smart and have all your limbs and teeth from what I can tell. Why on earth aren’t you with someone? What’s wrong with the guys where you live? They blind or have some kind of illness or something?”

“I…don’t get out much. Hardly ever, as a matter of fact. This trip to Portland was my first trip out of town in almost a year. I work on my computer and nowadays it’s easy just to order everything online…” Her voice trailed off as he moved closer.

Metal reached across her to lift the tray away, then planted a big hand against her left hip, another against her right hip, leaning forward until his nose practically touched hers. His movements were slow, deliberate and he gave her plenty of time to object if she wanted to. Which was crazy, of course. Why would she want to object?

His face came closer, closer, closer until it was so close it was out of focus and she closed her eyes. Felt the molecules of air shift as he moved his head toward hers then he put his mouth on hers and thought stopped.

She was pure sensation, feeling not thinking. Her brain just switched off, like in sleep only better. Because she was aware of the sensations.

His lips were soft but his stubble was rough against her skin. He somehow moved above her, in a dominant position and that excited her so much it scared her. He lifted his mouth for a second, so close she could feel his breath—actually she felt as if she was breathing through him. When he spoke, his lips were against hers, voice so deep it seemed to reverberate throughout her chest.

“I’m glad you aren’t with anybody. Because you are now.”

Chapter Eight

A beauty like Felicity, free. Man. Opportunities like this just didn’t come his way that often. In battle Metal had two jobs to do—kill and save his guys’ lives. So every ounce of opportunity that came his way, he took it, even a split-second opening.

For a second, when she told him she was free—against all odds, against the way the world should be organized because someone like her should be snapped up immediately—she moved toward him. Her mouth opened slightly as she watched him, her hand unfurled, her shoulders relaxed.

She had no idea what she was saying with her body language, but he did.

They were subtle signs but Metal was used to reading subtle signs. He’d once caught a tiny twitch just as a teammate was being zipped up in a body bag. The teammate had been alive, just barely, and Metal had saved his life. He got Christmas cards from the guy, now retired, living with his wife and his dog.

That was all in the land of death Metal had left behind.
This—
this was the land of life, oh God yes. Felicity was life itself.

Moving in on her, moving to kiss her, felt like plugging in to something vast. Like plugging in to the world itself.

He was moving real slow, she could stop him at any time. But she wasn’t stopping him. Nope. When his mouth settled back on hers, she opened up for him, pressing against him, her tongue stroking his.

At the touch of her tongue his dick surged in his pants, from zero to hero in about two seconds. Full-blown erection, too, not some half-assed thing from looking at a pretty woman.

Nope, below the waist he was up and ready for action. He wanted to woo her, court her. He wasn’t good at it but he’d seen movies. Except usually the wooing required wit and charm, things he lacked. And on top of that, she had stitches. They were clean and they wouldn’t hurt but fucking in the missionary position was out of the question. So those were two good reasons not to jump her, lift up his T-shirt on her, shove his jeans down and slide right in, which was precisely what he wanted to do.

Lucky thing they were taught discipline in the Teams.

He pulled away a little, looking down at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. The Russians were known for their beautiful women. But she was 100 percent nerd, and she couldn’t see her own attraction.

He saw it, oh yeah.

Metal watched as Felicity’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her. It was a real smile. He didn’t smile often, mainly he just bared his teeth, so he knew the difference. She was a little mussed, a little confused, completely desirable.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” she answered.

“You know I’m a medic, yeah?”

She nodded, watching his eyes carefully.

“So there’s this whole new field of diagnostics to find out if you’re okay. It works really well on women. When being examined by a man.”

Now she was smiling, already figuring out where he was going with this. Smart lady. “I haven’t heard of that, but it sounds interesting.”

Interesting, oh yeah. He nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear, licked it, felt her shudder. He would have smiled back at her but suddenly he didn’t feel like smiling. He felt like biting, like crawling on top of her and holding her arms up over her head with one hand and sliding the other up under that huge T-shirt, cupping a soft breast. He felt like sliding her legs apart with his and rubbing his erection against her. He felt like—

Stop that
, he told himself. His hard-on was already painful, no use frustrating himself. Concentrate on the here and now, not on what he wanted to do but wouldn’t and couldn’t.

And anyway the here and now was really great.

“Yeah.” He sniffed her, trying not to sound like a dog. But fuck, she smelled good. She smelled of his plain soap but also of something else right underneath. Something fresh and enticing. Her own scent and the hint of female arousal under it. Mmm.

Mouth and nose on one side of her neck, hand cupping the other side, he could feel and see her arousal. Nothing like his, of course. His dick was sending out signals that were probably interfering with cell phone reception. He could feel his heartbeat in his dick. But she was with him, she wanted this. There was no mistaking it and if he didn’t feel she was turned on he’d get up off her and move far away. Maybe tie himself to something like those Greeks did when they sailed past the sirens. She was tilting her head slightly into his hand, giving his nose and mouth more access.

“So how does it work?” she asked, voice a little breathless.

“Hmm?” He was drunk on her skin. Every time she blushed, she gave off a little burst of heat and a little puff of her scent. She blushed often, that pale ivory skin going a delightful pink. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. When she blushed she went from very pretty to stunning. “What works?”

He could feel her cheeks move as she smiled. “This new therapy of yours. How does it work?”

“Touch.” The hand cupping her neck moved down, shifted the gaping neck of his T-shirt to one side uncovering delicate collarbones. “Dermotherapy. Just invented it. Healing by touching the skin.” His hand shifted again and the T-shirt fell off one shoulder. Looking down at that pale perfect skin, he saw the beginning of the swell of her breast.

Her eyes were half-closed. “Dermotherapy, huh?”

“That’s right.” Metal curved his hand over one smooth shoulder. It was like touching warm satin, only better. “I’m going to trademark it. Make a million dollars.”

“Not in Russia you won’t. Do you know what
dermo
means in Russian?”

Metal pulled back and shook his head, keeping his eyes on hers. Such a brilliant blue, like pieces of the summer sky. “No idea.”

Felicity huffed out a laugh. “It means shit. So that won’t go over so well, will it? Shit therapy.”

“Nope. Not good. Public relations nightmare. Okay, let’s rename it kiss therapy.” He planted little kisses all along her long, pale neck, along her delicate jawline, back down along her shoulder. He bit her, just a little, right where the neck met the shoulder and felt her jolt. “How do you say
kiss
in Russian?

“
Potseluy.
”

Weird word. He gave an internal shrug. Now he could say it in Russian. He’d say it in Martian if that would help. “
Potseluy
me.”

She laughed, touched his neck, then opened her hands like a little blossom, stroking him. She leaned forward and put her mouth on his.

Jesus. Sensory overload. Touching her, her mouth open under his, tongue stroking his…it was more exciting than fucking other women. Under his fingers on her neck he could feel the blood pumping hard through her veins. His was too. He was already so excited he couldn’t breathe. Good thing fucking was off the table because he’d have a freaking stroke. Die right here, in his bed, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, brain simply blasted from lust.

Metal couldn’t reach her breast from the T-shirt’s collar. But! He was a good strategist and forward thinker. His hand bunched the bottom of the T-shirt and slowly pulled it over her head. She lifted her arms for him, which was good. Showed she was in the game. He wanted her so badly he wondered whether he was generating thought waves that could be messing with her head.

He wasn’t. Or maybe he was but she wasn’t picking up on them. She was okay with being naked for him.

Naked. God.

Metal nearly forgot to breathe as he lifted his head and looked down at her. The rest of her was just as beautiful as her face. Pale and smooth and absolutely perfect. As if someone had reached into his head and pulled out his ideal woman.

Even the long strip of gauze along her side didn’t detract from her beauty. It simply reminded him that she was vulnerable. It was a hard world and wasn’t too forgiving to the soft and gentle, however smart they were. Well, whatever happened between them, no one would ever hurt her again.

There were images of naked women more or less everywhere these days. Pneumatic, pumped, sometimes even rubbery-looking. Silicone and plastic and spray tans.

Felicity looked like a woman, slender, delicate, utterly real. Her heart was pounding and he could see and count the beats of her heart in her left breast. Automatically, without thinking, he counted them. Eighty beats per minute. She was excited.

Her breasts were small and incredibly perfect with pale pink nipples and yes, thank you God, the nipples were hard. Growing harder and pinker by the second as he stared avidly. He wasn’t necessarily a breast guy. He particularly hated implants because he knew he was feeling sacs of saline solution under his hands. As a combat medic, he’d held plenty of sacs of saline solution and they reminded him of death not life.

But these breasts—ah, these were a miracle of nature. Soft and round and complete turn-ons.

It wasn’t easy because her breasts were eye magnets, but he lifted his gaze to her face. Which was eye candy too. “You like touch therapy?”

She nodded, smiled. “Kiss therapy too.”

His dick gave a kick in his pants. That’s what it felt like, anyway. A surge of blood so intense his dick jerked. He leaned forward then stopped when she put a hand on his chest.

They both looked down. Her hand was slim and lovely but not strong. If he wanted to move forward her hand sure as shit was not going to stop him. But that hand stopped him as suddenly as a grenade. He wasn’t moving if she didn’t want him to.

“You too,” she whispered.

Yeah? He had no idea what she wanted. “Me too, what?” Whatever it was she wanted, he was going to give it to her.

Felicity curled her fingers around the bottom of his own T-shirt and pulled up. “Take this off.”

Shit,
yeah
. The shirt was off and flung to the corner of the room in an instant and Metal moved forward to kiss her. God, the feel of her naked breasts against his chest was just heaven. He was careful not to put weight on her, especially not on the wound. But he could rub against her, feel all that heat and softness right against his skin.

Felicity was naked under the covers that bunched around her waist. He was really glad he still had his jeans on because shit, he wouldn’t be able to resist climbing on her top of her otherwise. Her pale, slender, naked torso stopped where his blue comforter started and that was good.

Think of her as a mermaid
. Sexless from the waist down. Hard to do when what he could see was so sexy she glowed.

Except, of course, for the bandaged side, which kept him just this side of red-hot. Because he knew that his weight would be heavy for her, certainly uncomfortable, maybe even painful and he didn’t want the tiniest shred of pain with them in this bed.

It had been bad enough two nights ago when she had fallen through Lauren’s door. This beautiful young woman some fuckhead had
slashed
.

Now that he knew her, now that he’d kissed her, now that he felt a tug as strong as the tides toward her, he wanted to kiss her, pamper her and he could do that.

He just couldn’t fuck her.

Not yet, anyway.

Metal pulled a little away, reached out with his forefinger and traced a straight line down the center of her body, from her chin to her belly button. Tracing a line over that soft pale skin that felt like a little slice of paradise.

His gaze followed his finger down, then he placed his palm over the center of her chest, right between her soft breasts. He met her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” The words were the right ones, exactly what a guy should say to a beautiful woman. But he got the rhythm and the tone wrong. His voice was rough, hoarse. Instead of a compliment it sounded like a painful confession.

She blushed. Without his T-shirt on her, he saw that her blush extended all the way down to her breasts. The tops of them turned rosy too. Her breasts were already perfect but they became even more of an eye magnet now that they were pink.

His mouth watered. He wanted to kiss her breasts, lick and tug her nipples until they turned even harder. He felt as if he could taste her already.

But something in her expression…

“I can’t be the first guy to tell you you’re beautiful.” He refused to believe that. Men were assholes but any man with gonads would be attracted to Felicity. He bent to give her a quick kiss. “Felicity?”

“No, of course not.” She blushed even more fiercely. “It’s just that—”

“What?”

“Um, I guess the guys I’ve…dated, they aren’t big on compliments. And I think they were more impressed with my IT skills and video game scores than with my looks.”

Metal put on his poker face. “I’m impressed by your IT skills and game scores too. Does that give me points?”

She laughed. “Totally.”

“So can I do this?” He bent down, licked her right nipple and saw her shudder. In a good way. He lifted his head and stared down at her. “You okay with that?”

“Oh yeah.” She was bright pink, flushed and flustered and absolutely irresistible. He’d lied. He was impressed that she was so smart and he was sure she was good at video games but right now? Right now none of that made any difference to him. What was turning him on was the way she looked at him, huge blue eyes fixed on him. How she reacted to his every touch, how she moved into his touch. “Again,” she said breathlessly.

Hell yeah.

Metal bent again and this time he took her nipple fully in his mouth, holding her sides between his hands. Like holding an ice cream cone that was salty-sweet. He pulled with his mouth and she reacted strongly. She shuddered and he saw goose bumps rise along her forearms.

Good. He wasn’t alone in this. Because he was about as turned on as he’d ever been in his life. As a matter of fact he needed a new word for what what he felt. Turned on sounded bland. You got turned on by a song or a new gun. This was unexplored territory and it needed a new word. He’d think of one later. Right now he had trouble remembering his own name.

He bent to kiss her again, short nips, lifting and readjusting his mouth over hers. He was almost scared of a proper kiss—long, with lots of tongue. Entering her mouth with his with tongue was scarily close to entering her with his dick and that wasn’t something he could do. Yet.