Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (7 page)

“Hold on a second, let me do that.” He stepped forward. “There's no need to rush, Drea.” He reached out for the hem of her shirt, slid his hands underneath. She jolted as his fingers slid along her side to her back. The smooth skin gave way to something else, raised bumpy flesh. Scars.

She inhaled sharply, tensed but didn't move away. “I was in an accident when I was a girl,” she said shortly.

“Sorry to hear that.” Monroe was sure that she was lying, but he let it go. He gripped the hem of the shirt, eased it up. Drea raised her arms. Underneath the simple shirt, she wore a bra that was basically all dark green lace and seriously sexy. “Is this from the shop?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Do you like it?”

“Green is my favorite color.” He skimmed his fingers down her arms. “And it looks good on you, really good.”

“So, that must be why Claire buys so much of it. She's always bragging about getting it ripped off of her or whatever, so I did the math. I know she's part of the Nightshade harem.”

“It's not a harem,” Monroe protested.

“Whatever they are, it doesn't matter to me. It's not like either of us are virgins, unless you've got something you'd like to tell me.”

“Definitely not a virgin,” Monroe replied.

“Prove it,” she said with a grin he was starting to recognize. “Just please tell me that you have a condom.”

Chapter Five

“I've got condoms,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You having second thoughts?”

“No. You?” For a horrible moment, Drea wondered if he had. Was that why his searching hands were suddenly still on her skin? His expression was serious, his eyes on hers, but then a smile lit his face.

“Fuck no,” he replied with a laugh. “I'm just trying to figure out where to start with you.”

Several suggestions immediately sprang to mind, but Drea didn't get a chance to list any of them because his mouth was on hers again. There was demand in the kiss, so much need that it took her breath away, and all she could do was hold on to him. Even though his mouth was demanding, his hands were soft, gentle, as he worked his way down to the button fly of her jeans.

Drea moved with him as he stepped forward, propelling them towards the bed. She felt herself falling for only a second before her back hit the mattress. She lifted her hips to let Monroe ease the denim over them. “You've got too many clothes on,” she pointed out to him as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Do I? Sorry.” He grinned as he took a step back from the bed and took off his shirt.

Drea took in the sight of him. She'd wondered about his ink, only getting a glimpse at something on his upper arm, but otherwise there was nothing visible. It seemed the large cross on his arm was all he had. He dropped his jeans, and her attention shifted. Monroe was already hard. She'd felt as much when they were kissing, but the sight of him sent a tremor of need from her toes up.

He started for the bed, stopped to turn back to where he'd left his jeans. “Can't forget these.” He tossed a strip of condoms onto the bed. There were three of them, so Drea figured he was either really confident or really cautious; either way she figured that she was going to come out a winner.

Drea sat up, reached behind her to unhook her bra. She took it off and tossed it towards the rest of her clothes. Now that she was fully exposed to him, nerves roared to life, especially when he said nothing, just stared down at her.

Time seemed to slow and stretch. Drea didn't know if it had been five minutes, an hour or only seconds before Monroe finally moved. He joined her on the bed, his body covering hers. At first, she couldn't breathe; she thought it was because of his weight but realized it was because she wasn't breathing. She ordered herself to relax, to enjoy the moment.

His hands were on her again. It was hard to think surrounded by him, but she gripped him tighter, held on as his mouth found hers once again. He was a good kisser, forceful without being overbearing, and the things he did with his tongue sent a flash of heat to her core.

Drea shifted beneath him, wrapped one leg over his and rolled her hips. Monroe let out a groan. She could feel him against her, hard and hot. She'd have begged, except she'd clearly told him that she wouldn't. The need was so intense, more intense than anything she could remember.

She whimpered and arched her body as his attention shifted to her breasts. First it was just his fingers, but then his mouth closed around her. Drea arched her back to give him more access to her. She felt his hand slide down her body, over her stomach to the soft triangle of curls between her legs. His teeth scraped along her nipple as he dipped a finger into her heat. Through a haze, she heard him grunt. Her head fell back and everything was bright, almost too bright.

“You still with me?” His voice was low and rough with need. “Do you need to stop?”

“No. Don't.” Drea flexed her body against his. The movement drove his finger deeper. “Oh!”

“Is that good?” he said with a chuckle. “How about this?”

Drea cried out as he slid another finger inside of her. Her hips took on a life of their own, driving herself down over and over. He curled his fingers, hit a spot she hadn't known existed. The feeling combined with his mouth back to work on her nipple was too much to deny. “Monroe!” Her head fell back, her body went rigid, and then she was coming harder than she had ever before.

“I need to be in you the next time that you do that,” he growled.

Drea shifted her legs open wider as he sat back. She watched him roll on the condom, glad that he'd remembered because she'd surely forgotten. In fact, if he'd have pushed himself inside of her without anything on, she wouldn't have protested. The need she felt for him was so great that it scared her a little.

There was no time to dwell on thoughts of fear as he guided the tip of his cock to her entrance. Drea felt a burst of pressure, it had been a while, as he thrust into her slowly. “Look at me,” he demanded. Drea opened her eyes, found that he was already looking right at her. He kissed her, soft and slow, as he pushed fully inside of her.

Nothing about the way he began to move in her was soft or sweet. Each stroke drove deeper. Drea's hips met his rhythm, matched his strokes even as she felt herself rising again. Sounds she didn't know she was capable of escaped her mouth when she could manage to get her breath. The slick sound of skin meeting skin only aroused her more.

Monroe grunted, and Drea realized that she'd dug her nails into his back. He didn't seem to mind. If anything he moved faster, harder. Her body began to spasm, she could no longer meet his strokes because everything inside of her seemed to be moving in a million different directions. Just when she thought that she would fly over the edge, he'd pull back. Change the rhythm so that she had to work to the peak. Again and again, he teased her with a release she was pretty sure might just kill her. It didn't matter. She wanted it. Wanted him.

“Please,” she whispered the word, not sure if he would even be able to hear her, but he did. He slid his hand between them, rubbed slow circles on her clit as he continued to move in and out of her. She felt the coil start to unravel and kept her eyes on his as long as she could. The sensations inside of her became too much; she let her eyes shut and let herself go.

Monroe let out a roar and slammed deep inside of her one final time. Drea let herself fall back against the bed, limp. He collapsed next to her, breathing just as heavily as she was. After a moment, she felt his weight leave the bed and opened her eyes. The disappointment that welled in her at the idea he might be leaving was a surprise.

“You got a trash can or something in here?”

“The bathroom is the first door when we came up the stairs,” Drea replied. Relief rushed through her; he wasn't trying to leave. She let her eyes close again.

When he rejoined her on the bed, he pulled her close. His lips pressed against her forehead. “Get some sleep, hon.”

Within minutes, they were both asleep.

<#<#<#<#

The first thing that Drea realized when she opened her eyes was that Monroe was still sleeping. During the night he'd turned onto his back. His face was turned away from her. Even though her bladder was telling her that she needed to go and her head was pounding hard enough that she thought she might throw up, she remained where she was so that she could look at him. She'd noticed his ink the night before but not the scars. They weren't like her scars, concentrated in one area, they were more scattered. Even to her untrained eye, at least two of them looked like bullet wounds and the other three were most definitely knife wounds.

He lived a dangerous life, even before he'd put on the Nightshade cut. Some of the stories that he told her of his life as a detective and cop had made her realize the world was crazier than she'd given it credit for. He'd also had funny stories, though, and cute ones that mostly dealt with animals and children. It surprised her how much he'd told her and how much she'd told him. She'd even mentioned her childhood, and she never did that, but he'd made her comfortable enough she'd let some of her walls slip.

After they'd finished the night before, her heart had all but stopped when she thought that he was getting up to leave. Now, in the light of day, the feeling was back, stronger than before. Drea knew that she was setting herself up for heartbreak since Monroe had made no promises to her. She knew for a fact that he was sleeping with other women, so it wouldn't do for her to start working on a crush or whatever on him. If he was the type to settle down, odds were that he'd have been snatched up long before their paths crossed.

Sadness welled in her chest followed by the feeling of loneliness which had been plaguing her for weeks. Drea wasn't sure how she could feel lonely when there was a warm, and naked, body right next to her, but she did. She turned away from him, slipped out of bed as quietly as she could. He continued to sleep as she crossed to the bedroom door and opened it.

Drea froze at the sound of the television downstairs, some chatty sort of talk show. She knew that they'd left the television on, but it had been on the blue screen because the movie had ended. It was only when she started for the stairs that she realized she was naked.

Monroe continued to sleep, completely unaware, as Drea grabbed his shirt off of the floor and slid it over her head. She took the gun from her nightstand, checked the clip. She shook her head to clear the hangover as she left the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, started down the stairs. She wasn't even all the way down when she heard laughter in response to the television.

Fucking Frankie.

She walked into the living room, already pissed. “What the fuck are you breaking in my house for?”

“You don't need the gun, your hair right now is enough to scare the shit out of me,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “Nice shirt.”

“Fuck you,” Drea snarled. She'd have come up with something better if the hangover hadn't been starting to take over again. “Stop breaking into my house.”

“You're the one who left the alarm off, but I guess you had more pressing issues. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, I've heard from Matt. He got the word I put out. He's on his way here.”

“Why here?” Drea demanded. “Has he contacted Sarah?”

“That's over,” Frankie said. “And it's between them,” he added. “Don't go poking your nose in.”

“Don't go telling me what to do,” she warned. “If Matt wants to leave, fine. Fuck him. I know for a fact that she can do better than him, just like I know that she deserves better than that. You tell Matt, he'd better be a fucking man about this.”

“It's between them,” he repeated with a shrug of his shoulders. “I, for one, am glad that he's coming. We're going to need all the help that we can get.”

“What does that mean?” Drea ignored the way that her head was throbbing. The sound of Frankie's voice was like exceptionally long nails scratching their way over an old school chalkboard.

“It means that we're starting to shoot this week,” he said in a rush.

“No, we're not. We don't start shooting until next month,” Drea reminded him. She'd been very clear about it, exceptionally clear. Her word was the final say, but he just kept pushing and pushing the limits she'd set.

“Well, about that,” he said with what he thought was a charming smile. “Remember the talent I told you about? Kelly Love? Well, I got her to agree to a contract with us, but she wants to start shooting immediately, all fifty films in the next three weeks. And we need her, so we start shooting Sunday. Don't look at me like that,” he said defensively. “It's what's best for the company.”

“You signed her to a contract without consulting me?” Drea wanted to scream the words at him but she didn't because her head might just explode. Instead, she took a deep breath. “That wasn't our arrangement, Frankie.”

“It was an act now situation, Andrea.”

“Don't fucking call me Andrea. I'm the one who decides what's best. The only action that you take is bringing things to me. Get me a copy of that contract, right now. You don't think, Frankie. Even if I let you start shooting, the warehouse is still under construction.”

“I leased another place. Don't get pissed. There will be money rolling in soon enough. My guy has the website ready to go.” Frankie rose to his feet. “Don't be pissed. These are all good things. Great things. As far as the contract, I've got it back at my hotel. I'll go get it. You'll see, this is going to be good. So good.”

“Go and get it. Get me the paperwork on the lease, too,” she cut him off before he could assure her of what a great thing this was anymore. She should have trusted her gut. Frankie couldn't be trusted with anything. She reminded herself that the only reason she'd agreed to help Frankie was because of Sarah and the kids. If they were safe, the deal that she'd made with the devil to repay the debt was worth it. Now, she was stuck; she'd given her word the debts and interest would be repaid. “Bring them to the shop. Get out.”

“You're going in today? Power is still out to that part of town, I drove through on my way here. I'll drop them off here later. Hey, you should make dinner tonight to welcome Matt.”

The only welcome that Drea wanted to give to Matt was her foot straight up his lying, cheating ass. “Not happening,” she said simply. “I want the contract and lease here before noon, Frankie. You'd better get going.”

“You're not my boss, we're partners. You can't order me around like a lackey.”

“That's where you're wrong. Our entire agreement gives me the final say in everything for a reason. It's because it's my money.”

“It's my name on the company,” Frankie pointed out. “And you wanted me to be the face, so I'm the face. I'm doing what I can to make us a success. You're going to benefit from that as much as me.”