Bare It All

chapter EIGHT

IT WAS RIDICULOUS, but the closer it got to bedtime, the more antsy she became.

In part because of what she’d told Reese.

But mostly because of what she hadn’t told him.

He behaved the same, a little outrageous, far too attentive, sexy and downright wonderful. About everything.

He helped cook dinner. He helped clean up afterward. He played with Cash while she checked her messages and emails.

At the speed of light, he already filled her life.

Alice knew she wanted more. More than a casual relationship. More than sex.

More than temporary.

But a man like Reese would always demand honesty, and her personal truths would likely drive him away.

Such a conundrum. A balancing act.

Hearing Reese return from taking Cash out, she closed her computer. Ears attuned, she heard him lock the door, heard him talking softly with the dog.

Heard his footsteps coming down the hall.

With little decided, she turned her chair in anticipation of seeing him—and there he was. Cash came in around him, but Reese held him back.

“It’s muddy out there, so I had to wash his paws. I tried drying them, too, but easier said than done.”

Alice smiled. “It’s okay.” With her emotions so jumbled, she could use some unconditional puppy love right about now. She patted her thigh, and Cash bounded forward.

Hands in his pockets, his mouth tilted in a crooked smile, Reese propped a shoulder in the door frame. “He acts as if he hasn’t seen you for days instead of minutes.”

Sinking her fingers into the dog’s long, silky fur, Alice hugged him. “He’s the sweetest dog ever.”

“Or perhaps you’re just a very accepting woman.” He stepped in. “Are we interrupting your work?”

“No. I’d just finished up.”

He lifted a crystal paperweight shaped like a rose. Engraved on the front were the words: Sisters are Forever. “Very nice.”

Needlessly, she explained, “My sister got me that.”

“Special occasion?”

Nervousness began uncoiling inside her. “When I...returned home.” Her throat constricted. She hugged Cash closer. “After the kidnapping.”

As if the dog understood, he whined and laid his head over her thighs.

“I see.” Reese returned the paperweight to her desktop and looked around her room. “Tell me more about what you do.”

“Being a virtual assistant?”

“Yes. I don’t know much about it.”

So, he didn’t plan to pry right now? Tension receded, making it easier for her to breathe. Her work was a safe, comfortable topic. “I do a lot of stuff.”

“Like?”

“Set up programming, marketing, advertisement. I do copywriting for presentations and manage social calendars. Filing, travel plans, sometimes I even help develop brands for small businesses.” She watched Reese stop before an ornate clock on the wall. It neared ten-thirty.

Her bedtime.

Reese moved on to her file cabinet, read the names on the front of each drawer. “Sounds like you do it all.”

What was he looking for? Surely a utilitarian, locked file cabinet held no fascination. “Whatever the client needs, I can usually handle it.” She was a top-notch assistant—a curse she would live with forever.

“You communicate through email?”

“Mostly, yes.” A throbbing started in her temples, thanks to the intrusion of a nasty memory. She rubbed it away. “Sometimes with conference calls.” She avoided Skype and visual conferencing because she didn’t want to be identifiable.

Reese pondered that. “You never receive physical items?” She could almost see him thinking, picking apart her methods and finding reasons for them. “Actual mail or anything? Maybe a business item that the client wants you to review?”

“It’s rare, because I’m not part of product development. But when the client insists, I have a post office box that I check twice a week.” She made the trip two towns over to avoid a trail. In every way possible, she kept her anonymity. Not easy, but doable, when you were careful enough.

And she was very, very careful.

“I see.” He touched the top of her oversize flat-screen monitor. “How do you get paid?”

His continued questioning set her on edge again. Though she trusted Reese and enjoyed his company—even craved it—nervousness began ramping up. She closed her hands over the arms of her chair, her grip tight as she instinctively rejected the intrusion into her privacy. “I get paid through online accounts.”

“Convenient.”

Did that sound like an accusation? “Yes.”

He didn’t look right at her, instead choosing to circle her desk, his attention on folders, even paper clips. “Do you ever actually meet your clients?”

Too quickly, she said, “No.”

As if he understood her reticence to meet others, her need for isolation, Reese nodded.

She braced herself for the more personal questions to come. Now he would insist on knowing it all. And she wasn’t ready. Apprehension flooded her system, but she kept her expression composed.

She’d learned to do that during her captivity—to hide all emotion. Reactions gained attention, and sometimes retaliation. Better to fade into the woodwork, to get her job done as unobtrusively as possible.

Silent and efficient.

Blind to the cruelty.

Cowardly.

Having circled the small room, Reese now stood in front of her. “Alice?”

Distress got a stranglehold on her. She met his gaze, wishing she could will away the past, wishing she could convince him to stay, wishing she could put off this confrontation forever....

He studied her face, and concern pulled his brows. “It’s getting late.”

Bedtime. A time when her thoughts would relentlessly circle memories she badly wanted to bury. “Yes.”

“Shhh. Don’t panic.”

He’d known she was?

Reese touched her cheek, ran two fingers along her jaw. “I don’t relish the idea of folding myself onto your couch again.”

Confirmed. He wanted to leave her. Her heart tripped as she stood, her mind searching for words to convince him to stay.

Cash sidled out from between them and headed out of the room, probably going to the aforementioned couch.

They stared at each other. Her voice quavered as much as her nerve. “I...I don’t want you to leave.”

Rock-steady, he held her gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Just that fast, anxiety deflated. “You’re not?”

“The path your thoughts take...” He shook his head, that cocky, crooked little smile in place again. “I want to share your bed, honey.”

Share her...? As in sleep with her, under the covers with her, his big body right there, hot and solid, comforting and so tempting...

“Just sleep for now. Not sex. But I’d love to stay closer tonight.” He brought up her chin. “May I, Alice?”

Elation burst through her. “Okay.” More than okay. Already her toes curled, and a sweet ache unfurled. She breathed a little faster.

“Not for sex,” he chided again.

For tonight, for right now, she’d take what she could get. “Okay.”

His smile curled more. “Not just yet, anyway.”

She nodded. She wasn’t ready yet—but now she knew she would be...and soon.

He cupped the back of her neck, his mood shifting in some intense, indefinable way. “Now seems like a good time for that kiss we discussed.”

Before she could even absorb what he’d said, he touched his mouth to hers, warm, barely there at first, then more firmly. He moved his mouth over hers, parting her lips, angling his head to fit her more surely.

On a sound of wonder, Alice sank against him.

Wrapping one arm around her, he gathered her closer still, drew her in until her breasts pressed into the solid muscles of his body. Her heart thundered.

So did his.

She felt his tongue, tentative at first, touching her bottom lip, the edge of her teeth.

She held on tighter.

His exploration grew more curious, deeper, bold as he dueled with her tongue, and finally seductive, consuming.

She tasted him. And that, combined with his touch, his scent, overwhelmed her. Heat pooled between her legs, her nipples drew tight and somehow the two were connected, throbbing together.

God, it felt good to be aroused again, to react normally, to want a man so much. Not just any man, but this man. Reese Bareden. Macho, sexy, caring.

The whole package.

And he was here, with her. Judging by the hardness of his body, he wanted her just as much.

Amazing.

A groan snuck out as she ran her hands over his broad, solid chest, up to his shoulders, down to his biceps. So hot. She held on to him, ensuring he couldn’t leave her. Not just yet.

Reese sank a hand into her hair, palming her skull, keeping her right there with him. Dazed, incredibly excited, Alice relished the hungry way he took her mouth.

His arm around her loosened, but only so he could open his big hand over her back. She felt the gentle press of his palm between her shoulder blades, then down the length of her spine. Stopping short of her behind, he brought it up again. Down once more, slower this time, almost as if he fought himself until...

He opened his hand over one cheek, caressed, delved down...

The press of his fingers nearly stopped her heart.

With a low sound deep in his throat, Reese suddenly released her.

Mouth tingling, adrenaline pumping, Alice stared up at him. Never before had she seen his green eyes look so bright or so burning.

He sounded hoarse when he said, “Already I’m going to have one hell of a time sleeping. Any more of that and I’ll have to take the couch so I don’t rush you.”

Reflex clenched her hands tight in his shirt. “But you already promised to sleep with me.” And she already anticipated it with all her heart.

One way or another, she’d hold him to it.

His quick laugh turned into a groan. His hands covered hers, not to pull her away, but in reassurance. “Stop thinking I’m backing out on you, or anything with you. Okay?”

So he hadn’t been? “Okay.” Still a little breathless, Alice nodded. “Good.” And she thought to add, “Thank you.”

He thumbed the rioting pulse in her wrists. “You have an amazing ass.”

No one had ever said anything so outrageous, so wonderful to her before. The compliment warmed her clear through to her soul. She grinned at him.

With a shake of his head, Reese said, “Go.” He pried her hands loose, turned her and planted a light swat on her behind—the behind he claimed to admire. “Do whatever you have to do before bed. It’s time we turned in—before I forget myself. Again.”

Alice was counting on him doing just that. Soon. Very, very soon.

* * *

SHE WORE A long white nightgown that looked like something straight out of a Victorian fetish catalogue. Sleeveless. Flowing. Opaque enough that he saw only shadows...a tease to his tested control.

Already taut in places that didn’t bear close scrutiny, Reese tried not to dwell on the image she’d made coming into the bedroom: face freshly washed, hair just brushed, her small feet bare and that long white gown swinging around her slim ankles as she marched to the bed with transparent eagerness.

It should have shredded his ego that a woman wanted to sleep chastely with him instead of indulging in raw, hot sex. But instead, with Alice...it broke his heart a little.

She’d be wrecked if she knew that. Pity was not a sentiment she’d welcome.

She wasn’t all that keen on concern either.

And she despised prying.

Too bad for her that he couldn’t let it go. If she were another woman, sure, he could take what he wanted and dismiss the rest. But with Alice...no. Not possible.

She’d beamed at him from the other side of the bed until, teeth locked, he’d shucked off his clothes and gotten under the covers, hopeful that she hadn’t seen his erection beneath snug cotton boxers.

Ha. Alice made no bones about checking him out at every opportunity.

But she hadn’t remarked on it. She’d just crawled into the bed beside him, still smiling, smelling like lotion and toothpaste and like Alice herself, warm and soft and so desirable his teeth ached.

Cash, tail thumping in excitement over having them together, had bounded up, circled the bed once to say, “hey,” to each of them and then collapsed near their feet. Reese turned out the light, stretched out on his back, and a second later Alice cuddled close.

“Okay?” she asked.

Torturous. But he’d said only, “Perfect.”

Now, half an hour later, Cash’s doggy snores softly floated on the quiet air, mingling with the hum of the air conditioner.

Thank God she didn’t leave the windows open at night, but then, he wasn’t surprised that she’d locked up, checked everything twice and checked it again.

At some point, as naturally as if they’d slept together dozens of times, she’d turned, scooting back against him until he spooned her. That lush little ass—such a surprise—snugged up close to his groin, taunting his efforts at gentlemanly restraint.

His arm draped over the significant dip of her waist. He badly wanted to open his hand over her belly, so much so that his palm tingled. The thin barrier of that boner-inspiring gown wouldn’t hinder his touch at all.

No.

Leaving his hand lax on the mattress in front of her, Reese squeezed his eyes shut and resisted temptation.

His roiling thoughts refused to calm. Visuals continued to slam into his brain. Without meaning to, he dipped his head so that his nose brushed Alice’s baby-fine hair. He inhaled deeply.

Without saying a word, her hand covered his, fingers twining together.

At times, Alice could be so deceptively peaceful. He knew her well enough now to know it was a ruse; at all times, she remained aware, alert. Of everything.

She surprised him every other second. With her hurt. Her courage.

Her sexual openness.

He could take her now. He knew it whether she did or not. She might have issues clouding her desire, but he could get her past that easily enough. A few kisses, a touch—and she’d be ready.

But this time, with Alice...damn it, he wanted more.

And so he would wait. He needed to know everything that she tried so hard to keep hidden. If he wasn’t a detective, maybe, just maybe, he could let it go. Leave it in the past.

But he couldn’t. It was in his nature to uncover mysteries. Especially when he feared there could be danger involved.

Danger to Alice.

Maybe he should tell her that. Maybe if she knew sex hinged on complete honesty, it’d be incentive enough for her to come clean. To bare her soul.

To him.

He’d work on that—

“Reese?”

Her soft voice, coming to him in the dark...even that turned him on. “Hmm?”

Untangling her hand from his, she squirmed around to face him, her breath on his chest, her knee so close to his dick that he twitched.

“You seem antsy. Are you okay?”

Suffering a raging hard-on seemed antsy to her? He counted to three to take the sting out of his voice. “Overwrought with lust, but otherwise well enough.” As she turned her face up to him, he said, almost in desperation, “No, shhh. It’s fine. I’m enjoying this, holding you.” Torture, yes, but the sweetest kind.

“Me, too.” She wiggled closer—and there it was, her leg against his boner.

Ah, God. He locked his teeth.

“I’ve never slept with a man before.”

His eyes widened in the darkness.

“I’ve had sex,” she said softly, her fingers now toying with his chest hair. “I didn’t mean that.”

Reese tried to relax. Impossible while she employed her unique brand of foreplay.

“Only a few times, and it wasn’t all that memorable. That was before...”

“I know.” If she started talking now, they’d never get any sleep. He wanted her well rested. Tomorrow was D-day, the day he’d get answers. But if she knew that, she’d never doze off.

Alice might think she hid it from him, but he saw her angst anytime she thought he might press for more information. She wanted to feed him details in dribs, maybe hoping that’d lessen the impact...of what?

How did she expect him to react?

He knew she was familiar with weapons, that she held her own in moments of crisis. He knew she jumped at every whisper of wind.

Such an enigma.

Yet the way she composed herself, her face a blank facade, told him more than an outpouring of emotion ever could.

It was in those contained moments that he most keenly felt her pain. It was that pain that had him holding back now. Whatever had happened, whatever she’d done, whatever shame she bore, it couldn’t compare to her suffering.

“Even back then,” she whispered, her fingers getting ever closer to his left nipple, “I never shared my bed overnight.”

His heart beat so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t rattle the bed. He flattened her hand to his chest to keep her still. “You need a larger bed.” The full-size mattress wasn’t nearly big enough for her, him and Cash, to boot. The proximity of her body was almost a necessity; there wasn’t room for him to ease away.

He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “Until you, it wasn’t an issue.”

“I have a king-size bed.”

“Much better suited to a man of your size.”

Did she shift her leg against him on purpose, to punctuate that comment about his size? “We’ll stick close, that’s all.” He locked her to him, his only defense. “It’s fine.”

She relaxed again. “If you’re sure.”

He throbbed all over, skin hot, muscles clenched, need escalating with each touch of her moist breath. But he wasn’t a wimp, so he wouldn’t budge—not when he knew Alice wanted him to stay.

“Go to sleep now.” He hugged her, kissed her forehead and pretended to fall asleep. Tomorrow he’d take care of work obligations.

And after that...he’d take care of Alice.

* * *

THE STORMS LEFT behind air too muggy to breathe. Even inside the bar, the sluggish cooling system couldn’t fight the humidity. Rowdy rubbed the back of his neck. Perspiration stuck his shirt to his back and curled the ends of his unkempt hair.

Not that he gave a damn.

Restless, he sipped his beer and thought far too much about too many women.

Even without a reason to worry, his sister stayed on his mind. He should relegate that duty to Logan now—but he knew he wouldn’t. Pepper was the most important person in his world. To his dying day, he’d do what he could to keep her happy and safe.

That brought his thoughts to Alice. Too intuitive for her own good, Alice nettled him on many levels. Not with any intimate interest, regardless of Reese’s concern. But she was alone, vulnerable, emotionally guarded. Sure, she would deny that, at least to him. Maybe not to Reese.

Either way, it didn’t change the facts. Something or someone plagued her. Rowdy planned to figure it out.

It complicated his intent, the way she made him feel so defensive. And wary. How the hell had she so easily gotten to him? And why did she want to pick at his psyche, anyway? Women approached him all the time, but not because they wanted to understand him.

Never that—thank God.

Staring toward a tableful of women without really seeing them, Rowdy drank his beer. So far tonight, his questions had gone unanswered. He had a few leads, but nothing solid. A few sources checking into facts, but they could be unreliable.

He wouldn’t give up.

As his gaze moved around the room, a woman smiled at him, but he didn’t encourage her. Another lifted her drink to him in a suggestive toast. He glanced beyond her.

Everything came full circle as he realized he once again searched for Avery Mullins, the third woman on his mind.

He got why his sister had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts. It didn’t take a shrink to know that he’d lost everyone—except her. Now that she’d found her happy-ever-after with a good guy, he felt at loose ends. Picking up on his protector role with Alice made sense.

He could roll with the punches when necessary, but he liked playing guard dog. Alice could use his special street savvy, and assisting her gave him a solid purpose. So he thought about her. Made sense.

No problem.

But Avery...what the hell was it about her? Rather than lie to himself, he admitted that he came to this particular dive, repeatedly, on the chance he’d run into her again.

That last time they’d crossed paths, he’d had goons after him intent on a beat-down. You couldn’t live his life and not make enemies left and right. Elusive and cautious as he might be, every so often the disgruntled bastards caught up.

If it hadn’t been for Avery assisting him out a back exit, he would have had to crawl from the bar, bloody and battered. Two men he could handle. Maybe even three. But five armed and muscled bullies lessened his odds of getting away upright, on his own steam.

Without too many questions asked and only a little condemnation, Avery had lent a hand to protect him. He’d repaid her by stealing a couple of kisses.

Lousy little pecks under shitty conditions and a definite time crunch. That’s all they’d shared.

Added up, those kisses totaled less than five seconds, so they hardly counted.

Yet...they’d stuck with him. She’d stuck with him.

It wasn’t because she amused him without even trying. Or that her forthright manner was adorably honest. It wasn’t even the way she looked at him with heated awareness—all while denying an attraction.

With Avery, he was more likely to get insults than come-ons.

She’d stuck with him because he needed to have her.

That’s all it was, all it could be. Once Avery gave in to the chemistry, he’d get her naked, over him or under him so he could sate himself until he got her out of his system.

And then he’d move on, as he always did.

As often as he came by hoping to see her, she had to be avoiding him. That last time, along with the kisses, he’d managed to wrangle her name from her.

While withholding his own.

Necessary then, but now...now Rowdy Yates was in the clear. He could offer a proper introduction.

If only she stopped dodging him.

While thinking of Avery, his gaze snagged on a petite blonde wearing a barely there mini dress. Great legs. Tiny waist. Come-and-get-me smile. He should take her up on it...except that he wasn’t all that interested. Damn.

He transferred his attention to a tall, willowy brunette. She stared at him with blatant invitation. Fake boobs, but what did he care?

No. Still nothing.

He finished off his beer, sulking when he never sulked and wondering if he should just take a woman—any woman—to prove to himself...what?

On this particular night he didn’t need the company. Sure, he had a lot on his mind, but it wasn’t the disturbing stuff that sometimes plagued him in his dreams. It wasn’t the hell of a past reality, dark and gritty and sharp, clawed with disturbing images of what he’d—

“You know, if I was gay, we’d get along just fine and dandy.”