Protective Instincts (16 page)

"You're incorrigible. Go talk to Daddy and behave." Brit headed upstairs. .

* * * *

Teacher, teacher, where's the stupid teacher? Is she spreading her legs for the daddy? She hadn't spread her legs for Douglas. Douglas is good looking. Douglas can please the ladies. Douglas can show the stuck up teacher what a real man's like.

Douglas hums … Five steps right and five steps forward. One step left and two steps back. Four steps right and five steps forward. Two steps left and one step back. The jail cell dance, his own creation. The others don't know my dance.

Douglas must kill the bitch! Douglas hates being cooped up in a Hellhole of a prison cell with the riff-raff and the dregs of society, the small time crooks, not even one lawyer or stockbroker to keep him company! This place is not dark, like the closet Douglas hated, but he needs to get away or he'll go crazy. Douglas will get out and make the teacher ver-r-y sorry!

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brit hummed, brushing her fingers through her hair, while she dried it in her room. She stared through half closed eyes at an image in the mirror. Tommy had always loved to watch her dry her hair. He'd offer to help her and wind up helping her into bed. She smiled. Strangely, her memories made her feel more comfortable than sad.

The fluffy, blue towel wrapped around her hid very little, but there was no one to see anything. At least there was no one until a half-naked man knocked on her door and opened it before she could warn him she wasn't dressed.

"What do you think you're doing in my room? I'm not decent and you shouldn't be here." Brit switched off the small hairdryer she held.

Sam twirled a non-existent mustache. "On the contrary, dear Teach, you're better than decent, and quite appealing in that costume. There's no better place for me, than where you're not dressed." The door closed with Sam inside the room.

His presence seemed to shrink the area.

Sam's jeans hung below his tan line, barely covering the thatch of hair she knew was at the end of the trail to the bulge at the base of the zipper. The least he could do was button the jeans, so they would cover a little more of his flat stomach. Sam had the body of a Greek statue. But Sam was a lot warmer.

He was so alive and so hot. The blush heating Brit's face spread as she willed her eyes up. The trail of hair led back up to his chest. Matted damp curls left flat nipples exposed. The power he had to make her want him was nothing short of criminal. She could hardly speak for her dry throat. She swallowed hard.

"Sam, you and I are not going to sleep together in my mother's house. You might as well leave this room now." She glared at him. The hand she had been raking through her hair fisted on the towel, to keep her only covering intact.

His strong hands gently grasped her shoulders when he pulled her close. The hand that grasped the towel pressed against his bare chest. She splayed her free hand against his warmth. She'd intended to push him away, at least she thought she had, but the feel of his smooth, damp skin beneath her palm tempted her too much. His hands were work roughened but the rest of his skin was soft as a baby's.

"God, but you're beautiful, woman." Sam cupped her chin, tilting her face for better access to her mouth. His tongue touched one corner of her mouth, then the other. It moistened the outer edge of her upper lip, then the outer edge of her lower lip, before bathing both trembling lips. "I missed you," he murmured against her mouth. "Didn't you miss me, at least a little bit?"

Her soft lips parted for a sigh.

He darted inside to touch her welcoming tongue.

His free hand cupped her breast, massaging through the towel. The other moved from her chin to caress the other breast.

She moved her hand from Sam's chest to cup his neck, then she abandoned the tuck in her towel, roaming up a muscled arm to a taut chest shuddering at her touch.

As the towel slipped, Sam pulled her naked front flush with his.

One denim-clad thigh pressed at the juncture of her thighs as his erect penis pulsed against her hip. He cupped her derriere, pulling her close enough to taste pouting nipples. One seemed to beg his tasting. His hot tongue laved the nipple, savoring it.

Brit opened her eyes to see his naked back reflected in the dresser mirror.

She saw part of her own nude front and the face of a woman aroused.

A strong hand moved behind one knee, raised her leg to rest her foot against his thigh.

She felt heat between her legs grow.

Sam's hand moved between her thighs, almost touching close to her nether lips.

A shudder raced through her body, as all thoughts beyond the couple in the mirror fled. She could not stop now, even if …
Damn! What if my mother walked in right now?

Brit balled up a fist and punched Sam's shoulder and pulled a reluctant breast from his mouth and yanked the foot from his thigh.

"Brit, Honey?"

"You sneaky, rotten, no good scoundrel, you sex maniac, you –you --" Brit grabbed the damp towel, inadequate as it was. Realizing how little it covered, she snapped it at the bewildered man as she turned her naked back to him, then scrambled for her robe. "My mother could've walked in."
And it would be my fault as much as his! But he's so sexy! Not fair! Better to be mad at him, than at myself and my weakness for him!

"Love, your mother's a married lady who must've learned about lovemaking when she created four children. Surely she knows that you would know about it, since you were married." Sam tried to joke with the fuming woman, who was having trouble stepping into black, lace-trimmed, satin panties.

"But she's my mother. Besides, it could've been anyone, my daddy, or my brothers. They'd have shot you on the spot!" Brit punched him again, this time on the other shoulder.

She continued to grab clothes, turning her back on the obnoxious man, while she slid her arms from the sleeves of her robe, through the straps of her bra and fastened the front clasp, before letting the robe fall. She was more angry with herself than she was with him, but she wasn't about to let him know it.

She spotted him, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Your father and brothers know about the birds and the bees. I don't think they'd be so shocked. They might've made you marry me and make an honest man of me, but I don't think they'd have called me out or shot me." He grinned. "How can you call me a sex maniac? You're the woman I like to watch and undress."

He saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.
Damn
! "I didn't come here to seduce you but you make me forget my brain." He sat back on the edge of her bed.

She had stepped into black slacks and was buttoning the waist when she paused for a second, then grabbed a black blouse with filmy sleeves.

"You jerk, Alicia could have walked in. What if she had? How would you have explained that, huh? How?"

"Look, I'm not sorry I was making love to you. I am sorry I upset you, love. Alicia isn't even home. Anyway, maybe I can leave now, without embarrassing myself or compromising your virtue. Wouldn't want anyone to see what you do to me, would we? See you at supper.

"By the way, I like the black lingerie. Promise you'll wear it for me?" Grinning he reached for the doorknob. He unlocked it, smirked over his shoulder, and let himself out. He closed the door behind just in time to miss the hairbrush that bounced against the other side.

Damn his arrogant hide. Another couple of seconds and we …. Who was that woman in the mirror? I'm not sure whether I'm more sorry we started or that we didn't finish.
The flush returned when Brit remembered Sam's mouth on her nipples, the desire pooled between her legs, the feel of his hand as he touched her, the feeling of abandon that gripped her as she saw their actions in the mirror.

Sam stuck his head back inside. "We need to talk about your husband. I heard the last message on your machine and one came while I was looking for clues to your whereabouts in your house. I was afraid something bad had happened to you."

"Can we get into that later, Sam, please?" How could she let herself be so immersed in sexual feelings for one man when she had loved another so much? She shouldn't have let Sam worry about her, even though she'd never given him the impression he should keep up with her. She couldn't help his tendency to take responsibility for everyone.

The knock on her door broke into her daydream. She swallowed to clear her throat before answering, "Come in."

The door opened and her father poked his head around it. He'd changed from the jeans and sweatshirt he had worn to the ball game. His gray slacks and gray and white striped polo shirt looked youthful. His hair was slicked back from a shower and he looked downright huggable.

"Wow, don't you look spiffy, little girl!"

"Not as spiffy as my daddy." Brit hugged him.

"How about a drink before supper? My treat. I've got cold Strawberry Daiquiris ready. I used fresh strawberries too. Sam's already downstairs, helping your mama. He's quite a charmer."

"He's a charmer, alright," Brit muttered.

Father and daughter descended the stairs together.

Ellen looked fresh in a blue pantsuit, with her hair smoothed and tied with blue ribbon. The look that passed between her parents did not go unnoticed, as Sam gave Brit a knowing smirk. Her mother's flush affirmed that her parents had been too busy to walk in on Brit and Sam. There had not been time for them to take separate showers but they both looked fresh.
Well, I'll be darned! Still frisky! And so dear.

She couldn't endanger them by hanging around while someone was after her. She'd go through everything in the attic tomorrow after church. She had to know if Tommy had left a clue to whoever had it in for her.

"Hello, gorgeous." Sam held the swinging door open for Ellen.

"After you, madam," he bowed.

"Go on with you, Sam," Ellen laughed, blushing. "Such a nice young man your mama raised."

At that, Sam blushed. He carried a platter of meat to the table. "Why, Teacher, that's some fancy outfit for supper at home. Maybe we can find somewhere to show it off after supper. Ellen says there are places we could dance."

Sam had changed into real clothes. He looked no less devastating than he had been in jeans and no shirt. He removed the frilly apron she recognized as her mother's. Her mother must have taken him up on his offer to help. A teal, open-throated, shirt reflected his eyes, showing his early tan to perfection. Black, denim slacks hugged his hips like a second skin. He looked like sin and just as irresistible. He handed Brit a Daiquiri glass, letting his fingers brush hers as she took it.

"Did you know Daddy makes the Daiquiris light, with real strawberries and low on alcohol?"

"So he said."

Their gazes locked over the glass rims.

Her dad returned from the kitchen with a large bowl of potato salad and put it on the dining room table, set with matching, festive, paper plates, cups, and napkins. He turned to take the plate of sliced tomatoes and lettuce from her mom. Picking up two glasses from the table, he handed one to her. "To victories and those who are still celebrating them," he offered a toast.

"To victories to come." Sam looked over his glass at Brit.

"To knowing what's important in life." Ellen raised her glass.

"To cool drinks on warm evenings in Georgia," Brit murmured, rubbing the chilled glass across her forehead.

"Let's eat." Joseph finished his drink. "I might manage to finish a meal without an interruption. I can't believe the Stanton babies waited so long to come. They'll probably decide to cause their mama labor pains in the middle of the night."

"Everything's on the table. Just have a seat by me, so we can talk, Sam." Ellen nodded to the chair to her right.

"I'll sit next to Daddy," Brit took the chair across from Sam.

The men held chairs for the ladies. Brit was glad Sam wasn't holding her chair. She didn't need him so close. Hell, she didn't need him across from her either! Even adding leaves to the table wouldn't put Sam far enough away to suit her.

"The beef and ham are both good, Mama."

"I cooked them yesterday before you got here. Your daddy sliced it for me with that nice meat slicer you gave me for Christmas. It's a money saver when I make so many lunches. I gave the ham bone to Monster when we left for the game."

"Bet he loved that, but he'll make a better watchdog if you don't give him many extra treats."

"He's on vacation, too. And besides, he's in a new place and he's been so good." Ellen smiled.

"You wouldn't have leftovers if Sean and I ate here." Sam leaned against a counter.

"We're glad you're looking after Brit." Ellen patted his arm.

"It seems she needs more than the city police to watch out for her." Sam's sarcasm made his anger apparent.

"My attacker's in jail, so I'm perfectly safe, now," Brit reminded her parents, as well as Sam.

"Yeah, well ...." Sam stammered. He wasn't so sure about that. He hoped that he and Drew were wrong.

"You're not to blame, no one is," Joe said

"She now has a warning system, at least."

"Ellen told me about your son. Nice young man, she said. How is he?"

Sam's pride made him glow. "He's spending Spring break with his mama and grandparents in Hawaii."

"That's some trip for Spring break," Ellen smiled

"My ex's parents are living there as part of her daddy's job. He lectures at the University of Hawaii."

"I figure to take Ellen there some day." Daddy nodded.

"Maybe for our second honeymoon …. "

Here they sat not even two hours, but a world away from where she had been attacked, with their windows and doors open to let in the cool, fragrant air of Spring.

As Sam used his special humor telling parts of the story about how they met, Brit allowed her mind to drift. She'd need to check her answering machine before she went to bed. The police tracer should call if there were more threatening calls.

The doorbell chimed at seven o'clock. Joe answered the door with an enthusiastic, "Come on in, Zeke, son. It's good to see you. You don't look any worse for the wear. Alicia and Matt aren't home yet. How did you beat them?"

"Good evening, Dr. Simpson, Mrs. Simpson." Joe clapped Zeke on the back when they shook hands. Ellen gave him a big hug. "They were headed for the mall to buy something Alicia wanted. Matt is proud enough to buy her just about anything."

The man who joined Brit in the living room definitely did not look worse for the wear. The blue shirt fit his chest like it was made for him and poured on to shrink. It was just slightly lighter than the navy slacks, which looked tailored and freshly creased. Drop dead gorgeous, did not even come close to describing his blue eyes. Even the weak-eyed look that told Brit he needed to put on regular glasses did not detract from his handsome face. How had he remained single? He was a fine catch. He'd make a good project.

"Hello, Brit. You're looking fine tonight." His smile weakened a little when Sam stepped beside her.