Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (17 page)

"Do you need me to go easy?" he said. "Tell me."

She shook her head, her eyes bright in her stunning face. "I need you inside me. Right now."

He lowered himself between her legs and led the tip of his cock to her entrance. Keeping most of his weight on his forearms, he rubbed her, watching her face to see her reaction. She threw her head back, closed her eyes. Her nails dug in to his lower back and she pulled him tight.

"Matt," she moaned. "Now."

He entered her, paused. When she gave a cry of pleasure and pulled on him again, he slid in all the way, right to the hilt. Her pussy was tight and soft, and so fucking welcoming. King lowered his forehead to hers, gripped her body hard against his.

"Naomi?"

She opened her eyes and stared up at him. She looked lost, and his heart jumped at her vulnerability.

"Baby, you are so amazing. So hot. I love this
–
love being inside you."

Her muscles spasmed around him and he smiled.

"And you love having me there, don't you? I can
feel
how much you love it. You're getting wetter and hotter every second."

Naomi's eyes darkened until they were pools of pure lust. That was when King began to move. Slow at first, then faster as her hips rose to meet his thrusts; he slid his hands under her body and lifted her right off the bed. She gave a cry and stared up at his gorgeous face. He gazed back at her, desperate to see those eyes when she came this way for the first time.

"Stay with me," he said, gritting his teeth to hold back his orgasm until she went over the edge again. "Look at me."

Naomi held his stare as they moved together. She was awash in feelings, in colors, in wants. Having this man inside her body was so intimate, so close, and there was nowhere to hide from him.

Those gray eyes stripped off her flesh, smashed through her bones, went straight to her heart. He saw her, he saw everything; she was naked and exposed. They were connected
–
physically, emotionally
–
and for this few minutes, they were one body. Matt overwhelmed all her senses and stirred her entire being and she shut her eyes, trying to hide from the intensity.

"No," he said roughly. "Don't go away from me, baby, not now. Stay right here. Let me in."

"You
are
in," she said, her words ending on a sob. "You're inside me."

"I don't mean my body." He moved deeper, harder, drawing groans from her chest. "I mean me... let
me
in. Let me
in
."

"Matt –"

"Open your eyes, Naomi. Trust me, OK? Let me see you in this moment."

She did and that was when she let go of the last of her defences. As Matt took her with his body, Naomi let him see her in all of her need. No bullshit, no fear, no hiding. She gave herself to him, just placed her whole being in his hands, and he knew it. The beauty of her gift moved him, her complete surrender touched him and when he kissed her now, it was possessive and savage. She blinked tears from her eyes, amazed at this man's almost greedy acceptance of who she was.

And as he saw her, she saw him too, the untamed side of Matt. She'd had glimpses of it this whole time, flashes had broken through from behind his eyes. She'd seen his tenderness, but he wasn't tender now; she'd seen his patience, but he was done waiting. He'd held this part of himself back and pushed it down – and now he was unleashing it on her.

And I fucking love it.

"I'm close," he said. "I'm going to come inside you for the first time... and I can't fucking wait."

His words sent her desire in to overdrive and she bit her lip. His body slammed in to hers now, no mercy and no holding back, and she responded to it. She loved being taken by Matt and she stayed with him, matched his thrusts with her own.

Sweat dripped off his handsome face on to her lips and she licked the salty drops, relishing the taste. When he lowered his face in to her neck and plunged wildly, almost too hard, she felt the fire burst in to an inferno inside of her. He was pressing right up against something that couldn't be contained or stopped, and she didn't even want to. She let it grow, made no effort to tame it.

"Matt," she gasped. "Matt..."

"I know," he said harshly. "I can feel it."

"I – I
–" She
arched. "I'm..."

He lifted his head now, nailed her with his gaze. "Look at me when it happens. Don't look away."

Somehow, she did. The waves threatened to wash her away and the look on his face was almost her undoing, but she held his eyes the whole time. Tears ran down her cheeks and she gave cry after cry, but she didn't stop staring in to those amazing eyes that saw her. It was when he collapsed on her, overcome by his own climax, that their connection was broken. That was when she closed her eyes.

Dimly, she felt Matt withdraw, felt his hands on her face, on her shoulders. She heard him saying her name, over and over, but she couldn't open her eyes, didn't have the strength to respond. She felt him gather her to his chest, felt his racing heart against her hot cheek. But it wasn't until his hands were stroking her back in soothing movements that she returned fully. She raised her head, looked up at him.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Welcome back."

"Mmmmm."

He smiled. "Doing OK?"

"Are you kidding?" Her voice was sweetly husky. "Never better."

"Was it too much?"

"No. It was just right."

He searched her eyes, looked for the truth. And when he saw it shining out, clear and honest, he relaxed.

We made it. She's mine now, completely and totally, and nothing and nobody is ever going to get between us. I won't let it.

Chapter Fifteen

A few nights later, King was startled awake by his doorbell ringing insistently. He turned over in bed and checked the clock on his cell phone. Two o’clock in the morning – who the hell was standing outside his door at this hour? Then he remembered that awful night when Patrick had reappeared in Naomi’s life and he launched himself out of bed.

Fuck. It’s her, isn’t it? Is she in meltdown?

He barreled through his apartment, opened the door without even checking who it was. He blinked at the bright lights in the hallway, did a double-take.

“Janine?” he said, disbelieving. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Right away, he took her by the elbow and pulled her in to the apartment. “What happened? Are you OK?”

She shook her head, dark hair flying. A sob wracked her slim body and she trembled. He was suddenly completely certain that his nightmare had come to pass, and that she’d been attacked while in a manic state. His stomach tightened up with fear, but he kept his voice calm and level.

“Come on, darlin’. Sit down.” He steered her over to the sofa and deposited her there carefully. He sat next to her, not too close. “Janine. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I – I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I – I’m so confused…I feel like I don’t know what the hell’s happening with me.”

King paused. “Janine? You with me?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Are you back on your meds?”

“No,” she whispered. “But I need to be. Things are… out of control.”

“Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” A sob came now. “I’m just so tired and confused and I don’t know what’s real anymore.” She looked up at him, tears steaming. “Help me, King. Please help me.”

“I will, I promise.” He took her hand. “We need to get you to the E.R. right now. OK? We need to go and get you a referral and a prescription.”

“OK,” she said. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Yes.” He stood up. “I’ll get dressed and we’ll go. Wait here.”

**

It was almost nine o’clock in the morning when King and Janine returned to his place, both totally exhausted. It had gone surprisingly well at the E.R., mostly because Janine was already known to them, and so was King. He’d brought her there three times before, back when they were still together.

He sat her on the sofa, then headed in to the kitchen to make some coffee. Today was going to be a long, long day – at least until Janine got her meds in to her and they took effect properly. He knew it would be a day or two before they’d really take hold, but she was surprisingly lucid now, and had been all night. He’d seen her spin out of control in a matter of minutes though, so he had to hurry. He didn’t want her to refuse to take her pills when he set them down in front of her.

“How you doing?” he asked her now. “You need to lie down and have a rest?”

She smiled at him, and even after the stress of the night, she was still gorgeous, with all that dark hair and those smoky eyes. “Yeah, I think I need a sleep.”

“No problem.” He pressed the button on the coffee machine and stretched. “Look, the drug store will open in five minutes, so I think I’ll run out and fill your prescription. OK?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Sure.”

“King?”

“Yeah?”

Janine hesitated. “Have I been – difficult? For you?”

“You haven’t been well,” he said gently. “Don’t worry about any of it.”

“So, I
have
been difficult. I’ve said things to you, done things. Haven’t I?”

“Hey,” he said, coming back to her. “It’s fine. We’ll get you on your medication and under doctor supervision, and you’ll be back in control. Right?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He gave her a small kiss on the top of her head. “Just take care of yourself from now on. You know what you need to do to stay healthy, and you have to do it. You promise me?”

“Yes. I promise.”

They smiled at each other, and King felt nothing but relief.

“OK, you want to get cleaned up before you lie down? You can take my bed.”

“Oh, no. I’ll be fine on the sofa.”

“Nope. Ladies get the bed.”

“Thank you,” she said again.

“You’re welcome. So I’ll go out and get your meds, you hang out. Ten minutes. Unless you want to come with me?”

“Oh, no, I’d much rather jump in the shower. I feel grimy and gross.”

“Hell, I’m with you. Hospitals make me want to shower too. So, help yourself to coffee and shampoo and I’ll be right back.”

Janine watched King leave and she sighed. God, she felt like a goddamn idiot. It was clear as day that she’d said and done some pretty questionable things when she was in one of her manic states. She had faint memories of saying things to him, about him…trying to kiss him, trying to go home with him. She flushed, horrified and embarrassed.

She got up now, walked to the bathroom, started to get undressed. She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Wow, she looked wrecked. She shook her head and sighed again.

Janine glanced down at her left hand, and focused on the diamond ring there. She stared down at it, unblinking, for several seconds. It was so beautiful, this ring. The engagement ring that she’d always wanted. She stroked it, over and over, and the motion lulled her, soothed her.

Almost in a trance-like state, she looked up at herself in the mirror and felt confused. Why was she standing there in her underwear? Had she had a shower yet? She stared at her dry hair, at the mascara under her eyes, and decided probably not.

There was a sound coming from the other room, and Janine tried to think what it might be. An alarm clock in their bedroom? Puzzled, she walked out in to the hallway and looked around.

Ah, yes. The buzzer. King must have forgotten his keys.

She buzzed him in, then stared around the living room. When they got married, she’d have to talk him in to redecorating. It was a good space – open and with lots of light – but not really her style. She wouldn’t do too much, really, maybe add a bit of color. A few new paintings. He’d agree to that, right?

There was a knock at the door now, and Janine went to let King in. She swung it open, smiling widely.

“Forget your keys, babe?” she purred.

A blonde woman stood there, a look of horror on her face.

“Oh!” Janine said. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were someone else.”

“Yeah,” the woman said faintly. “I thought the same thing about you.”

“So… can I help you?” Janine asked.

“Ummm. I don’t – I –”

Janine waited patiently.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said finally. “Who are you?”

“I’m Janine.”

“Hi Janine. And you know Matt?”

“Who?”

“King.”

“Oh, of course I know King!” Janine laughed. “I know him
very
well.”

“You do?”

“Sure.” Janine held up her left hand. “I
am
his fiancée!”

**

Five minutes later, King unlocked his apartment door. He tried to call Naomi yet again, but it went straight to voicemail, and he disconnected. She was due to come over in an hour, and he didn’t want her to be surprised by his ex-girlfriend sleeping in his bed.

He walked in to the apartment and froze.

Oh, shit.

Janine was lounging on the sofa. She was wearing a sexy-as-hell black lace bra and the tiniest pair of black panties that he’d ever seen. She smiled up at him, slow and hot, and he knew he was in deep trouble.

“Hey, babe,” she said. “Where have you been?”

King backed up. “At the drug store, Janine. Getting your medication.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Right.” She got up and advanced on him slowly. “I’ll be a good girl and keep taking my pills. Just for you.” She winked. “We’re not quite ready to have a baby yet, huh?”

Goddammit. She thinks I went to get birth control pills?

King stood still, trying to think just how the hell to handle this; that was when he noticed that she held something in her hand. His brow furrowed: the object looked familiar and he tried to place it. His tired mind whirred, convinced that this was important.

What is that? And why do I care what it is?

It hit him now and he bolted towards her. She gasped in shock when he grabbed her hand and forced it open.

Oh, Christ.

“Janine.” He knew his voice was rough and angry, but he couldn’t help it. “Where did you get this necklace? This silver ring?”

“Oh.” She glanced down at the jewelry; she’d forgotten that it was even there. “A woman told me to give it to you.”

“What woman?”

“I don’t know.” Janine shrugged. “A woman at the door.”

Fuck, he wanted to shake her. “
What woman
?”

Janine’s eyes were wide. “A – a blonde woman. Short. She was wearing a blue coat.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Um. Yes. I mean, she
was
at our door.”

“Were you standing there like this?” He waved a hand up and down her body. “Wearing just this?”

Janine looked at herself, shocked.

My God. Where are my clothes?

“I – I guess I was.”

King closed his eyes, trying to stay in control of his anger, trying to remind himself that this wasn’t Janine’s fault. There was nothing malicious or mean about anything that she’d done, and he’d damn well better remember that if things went to shit. He opened his eyes again, took a deep breath.

“And what did she say?” he asked.

“Nothing much. She asked who I was and I told her.”

“What did you tell her, Janine?”

“Well, what do you think?” She stared up at him, totally confused. “I told her that I was your fiancée.”

Fuck. Oh, dear God.

**

It took almost three hours for King to get away from his apartment. He left Mac there with Janine, still trying to convince her to take her medication. She was at least wearing his massive bathrobe now – she’d agreed to cover up in deference to Mac coming over.

King had been calling Naomi the whole time, unceasingly, and getting more and more panicked with every passing minute. It didn’t even click through to voicemail now; for the past two hours, it had simply been dead air.

Please, please, let her be there.

He wrenched open the door of the café and strode in. He looked around wildly – he had no real expectations of seeing Naomi there, but he was desperate – and his eyes met Mirrie’s. She sighed when King launched himself across the café to her, and she braced for emotional impact.

“Have you talked to her?” he said, with no preamble whatsoever. “Is she OK?”

Mirrie examined his face. King was pale and haggard, and he’d aged about ten years since she’d seen him a month earlier at Naomi’s eleven-month chip celebration. Whatever the hell was going on, Mirrie had no doubts at all that was he was genuinely upset.

She gazed at him, trying to figure out what he was agitated about. Was she looking at a guy who was upset about being caught cheating? Or was this a guy who was caught up in some kind of mess or misunderstanding? Time to find out.

“I talked to her about two hours ago.” Mirrie leaned against the wall and pinned him with her hard violet stare. “She told me about your fiancée answering your door in her underwear.”

King groaned and ran a huge hand over his face. “I promise you, she is
not
my fiancée and I promise that I didn’t sleep with her. I know how it looks, Mirrie, but I swear it’s the truth.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. Mirrie, yes. I’d never hurt Naomi, never cheat on her, not ever.”

She looked at him some more, not saying a word, and he just waited. He stood there, almost shaking with the wild urge to run around the streets of Denver looking for Naomi, roaring her name as he rampaged.

“I believe you.”

King stared at Mirrie, totally stunned. “You – you do?”

“Look, if there’s one thing that I’ve learned at AA, it’s that you can never,
ever
tell anything just by looking at the surface of something or someone,” Mirrie said. “You’ve got to go deeper, darker. In that meeting room, I’ve seen alcoholics dripping in diamonds and alcoholics with impressive job titles. To the world out there, those people are successful and objects of envy, but in the room, they’re lost and hurting. Surface is bullshit, and taking things at face value is almost always a mistake.”

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’m saying that things can look one way and be a completely different way. It sure as hell
looks
like you cheated on Naomi, and it
looks
like you used her to cheat on your fiancée, but that may not be the case at all. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, man.”

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“So I don’t give a crap about the woman, whoever the hell she is. All I care about is Naomi.” Mirrie sighed. “You stomped on one of her biggest insecurities and fears, you know. Cheating, lying men are a big, red, hot-button trigger for her.”

“I know.” King rubbed his eyes. “That’s why I’m so worried, Mirrie.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No. I begged for her to meet me here to talk, begged her to come to a meeting… but she refused both. Said that she needed to be alone, then she hung up on me and turned off the phone, I think.”

“Do you think – is she drinking?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

They stared at each other, really saw the worry in the other person.

“I can find her,” King said at last. “I can get my people to track her down. They’d do it in an hour, I bet.”

“Yeah, you could do that.”

King heard the ‘but’ at the end of that sentence. “But what?”

“But that’s not the way this works.”

“Recovery?”

“Mmm-hmmm. If Naomi’s relapsed, then that’s her choice. Riding on in there like some white knight isn’t going to change how she’s feeling, or what she’s thinking. It won’t do anything except take away her accountability for her own choices and the consequences.”