Must Love Curves (Six Wicked Shorts) (12 page)

"I'm in here, baby girl."

I jumped, hot milk foam splashing against my arm. He'd been standing in my bedroom, less than a foot from me, and I hadn't realized it -- I'd been staring at the studio door so damn hard.

"Careful, baby, you'll burn yourself." He took the mug from me, his other hand circling my wrist.

Raising my arm, he dipped his head to the milk spotting my skin. Feeling his lips and the whisper of his tongue, I took a ragged breath in.

Shit, fuck, holy mother fucking fuck. Why did he have to pull crap like this? I wasn't a little girl, I didn't need my boo-boos kissed and, no matter how he acted otherwise, he wasn't my big brother.

I jerked my arm to my side. "Are you almost done?"

Watching me over the rim of his mug, he pursed his lips and took his first sip of espresso. "Just need to check your bedroom window and search the perimeter."

He turned away and I sagged in relief against my bedroom wall. He either hadn't checked the studio window or my sketchbook was at least closed. I hoped. He might not rib me about the self-portraits -- he could play the discreet gentleman when he wanted to. Which meant I had absolutely no way of knowing whether he'd seen the sketches and it would be months before I stopped fretting over it.

"Shit." The word popped out and I felt my cheeks grow hot all over again.

"You talking about the quality of your window locks? Because that would pretty much cover it." He turned, something like anger sparking in his eyes. "These are from the seventies, at least. Mike should have replaced them before he shipped out."

He swiped at his jaw and I knew then it wasn't Mike he was angry with. "I should have checked them earlier."

Relaxing, I smiled at him and tried to laugh it off. "Don't beat yourself up over it. If the neighborhood has a Peeping Tom, my bedroom window is the last one he's going to look in."

Noah's gaze narrowed. "Don't be stupid, Pattycake..."

I felt my temper flaring. He put both hands up, his face softening just the tiniest bit. He crossed the room until he was standing next to me.

His hand darted out to tuck a strand of still wet hair behind my ear. "Don't get your back up, either, baby girl. These guys start out peeking in windows and stealing panties and then they...graduate."

His voice broke at the last word. He closed his eyes, bending his neck until our foreheads touched. "He damn well will come back. Those locks are getting fixed tomorrow and you're getting a security system installed."

I started to protest but he shook his head. "Shut it, Patricia. Don't make me get hold of Mike and make him worry."

He knew the threat would shut me up pretty quickly. Mike's unit ran patrols from a forward operating base and he had to keep focused twenty-four-seven. I didn't want him thinking about me when he should be paying attention to some shadow on a hill or an odd rise on a dirt road.

But all Noah had was a report of suspicious activity from the Donovans -- for all I knew they were slamming back martinis after dinner and couldn't tell the difference between a prowler and the shadow of a passing cloud.

"Look, you don't even know someone has been looking in my window."

He took a step back, breaking contact. His hand went to his utility belt and I heard the click of his flashlight. "That's next on my list, baby girl."

********************

Any thought I'd held of grabbing one of my toys and getting down to business as soon as Noah left evaporated when he returned from his perimeter check to report a size fourteen sneaker print outside my bedroom window and chipped wood around the back door's lock. He left with a stern order to keep the windows and doors shut and locked, the curtains pulled tight and the lights on.

He also said he'd come back after his shift ended in a few hours.

I thought that meant another quick perimeter check. I didn't expect him to return with a small bag slung over his shoulder like he was ready for a sleep over.

"I'm beat, baby girl." Stepping inside, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before he turned back to the door and locked it. Heading down the hall, he grinned at me over his shoulder. "When are you coming to bed?"

I'm pretty sure my eyebrows shot up to my hair line. The house was a single ranch, originally with three bedrooms and a den. My bedroom had belonged to my parents. After they had died a year apart, Mike and I knocked the wall out between the den and the smallest bedroom to make my studio. The other bedroom had been Mike's before he joined the Army and was now stacked with boxes full of everything he owned before he shipped out.

I gestured uncertainly at the sofa. "What do you mean, coming to bed?"

"I'm not sleeping on that pile of lumps, Pattycake -- neither are you. It's older than either of us." Smiling softly, he closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. "And I wouldn't get a wink of sleep a whole room away from you, anyway."

He came back into the living room, just far enough to turn the light off before gesturing for me to come with him as he headed toward my bedroom. "Come on, baby. I promise not to snore -- too much."

Following after him, I felt my shoulders slump. I was finally getting my fantasy -- sort of. Noah Lodge would be in my bed tonight, but only because there was some pervert prowling the neighborhood and the sofa was too lumpy. It didn't matter if he did snore -- having him that close to me was going to keep me awake all night long.

I stepped into my room just as he stripped his pants off. The lamp next to the bed was on, spotlighting his lower body in the otherwise dark room. He wore a pair of long briefs beneath the pants, the kind runners wear. The material hugged his ass, molding itself to the muscles, the dimples of his butt cheeks visible with each flex as he moved.

"You seriously wear something that tight to bed?" My robe was still on, but I had slipped into a camisole top and some boy shorts earlier -- never thinking Noah was going to do more than pop his head inside for a second and then leave.

Sitting on the mattress, Noah swiveled in place until he could look directly at me. Half his face was in shadow, but his eyes glittered with the lamp's soft light. Hooking the underwear's elastic waist band with his thumb, he lifted one dark brow as he smiled. "Usually I don't wear anything to bed, baby. But I figured that would get me in trouble tonight."

Inside my head, I let out a long gurgling scream. There was no way I was going to get the image of him naked in bed out of my thoughts. I shook my head once, attempting to dislodge it from my imagination.

Didn't work. I was going to have to look at a ton of naked guy pics online before I would be able to slide into bed again without seeing Noah stretched out and bare assed the second I closed my eyes. I gave another shake of my head and pulled the blanket down.

"I understood you the first time," he laughed.

"Huh?" I sat on the bed, my robe hugged tightly around me.

"That you expect me to keep my underwear on, Pattycake." He reached for the top of my robe before I realized what he was doing. "That second head shake just impugned my manhood, baby girl."

He started to peel the robe from my shoulders. I clutched at it, but he brushed my hands away.

"Baby, it's summer. You're not sleeping in your robe..." His hands slowed and his voice dropped an octave when he spoke again. "You do have something on underneath, right?"

Numb, I nodded and relaxed my death grip on the fabric. He pulled the robe away, his hand pressing between my shoulders for a second, coaxing me to lean forward while he slid the rest of the material from under me. He stood to hang the robe and I dove under the covers.

His back to me, Noah reached out and turned the lamp off. I pressed my lips together, a pout threatening to erupt. If I had to suffer through the disappointment of my one night in bed with Noah being only on account of some pervert peeking in bedroom windows, Noah could have at least given me a front view of those oh-so-tight underwear.

I pictured the fabric molded to his sculpted quads, the thighs thick midway, the muscles narrowing as they traveled up. Another big bulge at the front, balls and cock gripped by the material. Thick veins -- a tingle shot through me, my chest and shoulders tensing with a quiver as my pussy tightened.

Oblivious, Noah swiveled the clock so its light wasn't pointing at the bed. "You don't need an alarm, right?"

I cleared my throat but could only croak out something that sounded like a "no."

"Good, getting up early on a Saturday sucks." He pulled his side of the covers back and sat down.

Noah lifted his feet from the floor and slid his legs under the blanket. That would have been tolerable -- him on one far side of the mattress, me on the other. Once he was covered, however, he started to roll and wiggle until his chest and stomach were pressed against my side. He draped his arm across my body, his hand curled around my shoulder.

"Baby, four years driving patrol and I freaked when the call came over the radio." His thumb stroked along the edge of my collarbone and then he did the unthinkable -- he pressed his lips against my shoulder. "I kept thinking, what if the guy was trying to break in? What if he succeeded?"

His mouth on me, his thumb stroking my flesh, I could barely follow what he said. I tried to move away, letting him know the Peeping Tom was no big deal. "Nothing bad happened, Noah. And Mike wouldn't disown you if it had."

Lifting up on one elbow, he loomed over me. His body rigid as a steel rod, I had the feeling he was scowling at me. He took a deep breath in and then exhaled sharply.

"Patricia..." He only used my first name when he was teasing me or annoyed. Given the low growling rumble of his voice, I seemed to have pissed him off -- at least a little. "You really think I don't have my own reasons for wanting you safe?"

When I didn't answer, he practically draped his body over mine. I could see the shadow of him above me, feel the brush of his hands along my side as he supported his weight on both arms. "Mike might be my best friend, but you're my other best friend, baby girl. Even if you're always trying to pull away..."

I didn't deny it. I had been trying to pull away for the better part of the last year. Maybe someday I'd learn how to be friends with him again -- only after I had enough distance from him to fall in love with some other guy and not have it hurt when I saw Noah's latest conquest hanging on his arm or heard him calling her baby, but with a completely different meaning and tone than when he used it on me.

"Patricia..." His voice rumbled in his chest. "Pattycake...c'mon baby--"

I pushed at his chest, exerting every last ounce of will power I had to keep my hands from sliding up and curling around his neck. I wanted to cry, but I also wanted to lift my hips, to feel just once what it was like to press against him so intimately.

"Move," I bit out.

"No." He lowered himself, his weight still off me as he leaned to one side. His free hand ran down my arm, stroked my thigh. "I need to feel you, make sure you're real and know I'm not going to wake up to some horrible nightmare where I got here too late."

He buried his face against my throat. Gripping my hip, he squeezed lightly. It was too much and I almost cried out. This was far beyond a concerned friend or him standing in for my absent big brother. I pushed at his hand but he only gripped me tighter.

"You don't get it, baby, do you?" His weight pressed against me, pinning me to the mattress as his hand moved higher up my side. Feeling the brush of his fingertips beneath the camisole, I gasped.

"Mike wants me to think of you as his little sister -- hell, as my little sister." There was nothing brotherly about the next kiss he planted along my throat, just under my chin. His hand surged the rest of the way up my stomach to cup the underside of my breast. "But I can't. I heard the call over the radio and all I could think was mine. Mine to protect. Mine to..."

He lifted his head from my neck, never finishing the sentence. His mouth descended onto mine. Gently, he bit my lower lip. His body pressing harder against me, a groan erupting from him. His hand found my hip again, squeezing once before moving down to the top split of my thighs. His tongue trailing lightly along the seam of my lips, he started a slow, insinuating caress of my legs.

Shock and an undercurrent of pleasure jolted through me, my senses swirling. Not once had he ever shown the slightest interest. Sure, he changed the oil in my car, checked the pressure in my tires, fixed a dozen little things around the place, all without my asking. But he was just being a good friend.

"Baby, say something -- your silence is killing me." Scooping the fabric of my bed shorts on one side, he pulled them tight. "Tell me you want this -- want me."

He kissed me again, abandoning the soft exploration he had started with. Wedging his hand beneath my neck, he lifted, forcing my head back and my mouth open. The kiss deepened and I felt the first brush of his knuckles against the split of my labia.

I wanted him -- had the wet thighs and madly throbbing pussy to prove it. But I didn't want to be another Noah Lodge one night stand.

"Say yes, Patty." Breaking the kiss, he surfed down my body, his hands caressing and molding my flesh with each inch traveled. His mouth stopped at my breast, wetting the fabric around the nipple with a slow, sucking kiss as his fingers tugged at my shorts.