Savior (15 page)

Great. That was just great.

I sighed at my blurry reflection and rolled up the nightie, slipping it over my head. It slithered over my sensitive skin in a far too erotic way and I knew that anytime I shifted in that bed, I was going to be washed over with that sensation again. Plus, the whole... Paine was going to see me in something overtly sexual while he was mostly naked thing. I said a silent 'thank you' to the universe that I had picked one that was solid silk and not one of the see-through lace ones.

On a shrug, I walked out of the bathroom, turning off the light and drawing Paine's attention from where he was sitting off the side of the bed.

"Fuck babygirl," he groaned, running a hand over his cheek. "You own stock in a lingerie company?" he teased, crooking a finger at me. And, well, when a man as sexy and mostly naked as Paine crooked a finger at you, you went to him. His hands moved up the sides of my thighs, whispering up my skin until they came in contact with the nightie then settled at my hips. "Alright," he said after a long minute, "climb in."

"Climb in?" I repeated dumbly, half-expecting him to grab me and finish what we started earlier.

"Yeah, baby, climb in. We're sleeping, remember?"

Yeah, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be sleeping. But I moved beside him and climbed in, settling against the pillows as Paine turned, snagged the blankets, and pulled them up over both our bodies. He settled back then slid an arm under my neck, curling it and pulling me toward him until I was nestled into his side. Uncomfortable, I pressed up and moved to rest my cheek on his chest. His arm curled tighter around me as I settled in. My hand went up to the other side of his chest, my finger tracing over the large, bold '3' tattooed onto his pectoral.

"You live through the first year, you have to get the gang ink," he explained.

"You haven't covered it."

Beneath me, he shrugged. "It's a part of me. Covering up the mark on my skin doesn't make those years I spent disappear. It was a huge chunk of my life. I'm not gonna lie about it or pretend it didn't happen. Now sleep, baby," he said, his voice going soft and my belly did a flip-flop I tried to ignore.

It had been a long while since I fell asleep with a man. I forgot how nice it was to feel a firm body beneath yours and a strong arm around you, anchoring you to him like he didn't want you to accidentally slip away, to hear a heartbeat under your ear.

It was soothing.

Within minutes, I was out.

Eleven

Elsie

I woke up tucked in tight with blankets, slightly disoriented until the events of the night before came into focus. Confused, I shot up in bed. First, checking the clock to make sure I wasn't late for work. I had an hour and a half still. Second, looking around to see if Paine's clothes were still on the floor like he had gone down for coffee or something. Even his shoes were gone.

I squelched the unexpected twinge of disappointment, grabbed work clothes, and headed into the bathroom to shower. Forty minutes later, I was in steel gray slacks, black heels, and a black lightweight sweater. My hair was dry, my makeup done. I grabbed a black, gray, and white swirled scarf and tied it around my neck then went downstairs to head out early. There was no reason to sit around my house for a half an hour over-thinking what it meant that Paine sneaked out in the middle of the night or early morning.

I already had those thoughts on my mind all through my shower and prepping and, well, let's just say it wasn't helping my sour mood any.

My feet hit the bottom landing before I heard it, too consumed with my own depressive inner monologue to notice it before. There was clanging and the low, throbbing bass beat of hip hop music coming from my kitchen. I didn't realize I was smiling until my cheeks started to hurt. Cursing myself and making the smile fall, I moved through my dining room and into my kitchen to find Paine, changed, standing in front of my stove and pouring something into a pan, something I definitely did not have in my house the night before.

"Did you go shopping?" I asked, making Paine's head swivel toward me, doing a slow inspection as if there was anything sexy about my work attire, landing for a second on my neck.

"Come here, babygirl," he said, turning from the stove and going toward a small bag sitting on my island.

"Why?" I asked, already moving further into the room.

"Here," he said when I got close, reaching out for my scarf, untying it, and pulling it off. He reached into the bag and pulled out a small tube of something skin-colored, holding it up. "Sell this at the shop. It covers tattoos. It should work on your bruises," he said, twisting off the cap. "Pull your hair up for me," he said, squeezing some of the makeup onto his hands and reaching out toward me.

Yeah and then he totally rubbed makeup all over my neck. Incredibly gently, I might add. Finished, he inspected it for a second, squinting his eyes. "Did it cover?"

"I know it's there so I can make it out the tiniest bit, but I don't think anyone else will see. Especially if you throw a necklace on to distract them," he added as he went to the sink to wash his hands. "Baby, do me a favor and flip those pancakes."

I looked over at the stove dubiously. "You do know who you're talking to, right? I didn't even know I had to remove that plastic stuff."

"Spatula, scoop, flip, drop. I have faith in you."

Well, when he put it that way, it seemed like a seven year-old could do it. I flipped the pancakes, revealing the perfect golden side that made my belly growl. "You can cook," I commented, looking down at the circles.

Paine laughed, coming up behind me, his arm snaking around my belly as he reached for the box of pancake mix beside the bowl he used to mix it and held it up. "It's just add water and drop it into a pan. Not really a way to fuck that up. You smell good," he said, leaning down and nuzzling slightly into my neck in a way that engaged the lady bits that went to sleep unfulfilled the night before.

"Thanks," I mumbled as he reached for the spatula, scooped up the pancakes and piled them on a plate beside the stove. "What, are you feeding an army?" I asked, laughing at the massive pile of pancakes he had already made.

"Like the way your ass fills out jeans, babygirl. Want to make sure you keep it. Sit," he said, jerking his chin toward the stools at the island.

Feeling a little awkward, I followed instructions. I'd never had a man cook for me before. And, seeing as I didn't cook myself, I'd never really shared an intimate breakfast with someone before. Paine slid a plate with four pancakes in front of me then came back a minute later with utensils, syrup, and coffee.

"Eat," he said, shuffling around as he, I imagined, made himself food.

Maybe he liked the way my ass filled out my jeans, but if I kept eating junk, it was going to positively bust out of them sooner rather than later. I wasn't the kind of woman blessed with the metabolism of a fifteen year-old boy. If I didn't watch what I ate and workout, I put on weight easily, effortlessly. I made a mental note to hit the gym an extra night or two that week and dove into my pancakes. Because, well, he made them for me. No way was I rejecting them because of some ridiculous concerns about my waistline.

Paine sat down silently and started eating. Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, I reached for my coffee. "What time did you get up if you managed to get all of this done?"

"Five," he said with a shrug like that was totally normal.

"Five? Farmers aren't even up at five."

Paine gave me a sweet smile, reaching for his coffee. "I usually get up and hit the gym before I open the shop."

"Thank you for cooking," I said, reaching for another fork full. There was no way I was going to finish all of it, given how unaccustomed my stomach was to eating at all in the morning, let alone loading up on carbs and sugar.

"Why are you being weird?" he asked, making my head pop up.

"What?" Weird? I was being weird?

"Yeah, baby, weird. All awkward and shit. Not like you."

Shit. He was right. I was being awkward. That was because I
felt
awkward.

"Sorry. I dunno. I'm in a strange mood I guess," I said and it was mostly true.

Paine's stool scraped across the floor as he stood, coming around the end of the island toward me. I instinctively turned on my stool to face him just as both his hands moved, reaching out, and cradling my face as he lowered down toward me, his lips hitting mine hard and hungry and tasting like syrup and coffee. All of it was way too intimate and demanding for a good morning kiss. But damn if it wasn't nice. My hands went out and grabbed his hips, using them as leverage as I moved to stand, pressing my body against his. His head tilted and his tongue traced my lips until they parted, sneaking in and claiming mine as his hands left my face, pressing down my back and circling around my hips, pulling upward slightly until I was on my tiptoes. My arms went around his neck tight, holding on, as a small whimper escaped me.

At the sound, Paine slowed and stopped the kiss, pulling backward and waiting until my eyes opened. "Feel better?" he asked, eyes bright.

"Ah, I..." I stumbled, feeling all tingly and sated.

"You feel better," he said with a self-satisfied smile. "You better get going or you're gonna be late. I'll clean up and set the alarm before I leave."

"Oh, um, okay," I said, nodding as I released his neck and took a step back.

"Bring this in case you need a touch-up," he said, handing me the tube of tattoo cover-up.

"Right... thanks..."

"Go," he said with a grin.

With that, I turned to grab my purse and keys and did what he said, ignoring the voice that was telling me that interaction felt a lot like a goodbye.

I threw myself in my car and backed out, cranking up the stereo and hoping I could drown out the voice inside.

Because, even if it was goodbye, so what?

He wasn't my boyfriend. He didn't even seem like boyfriend
material
. Nothing about him suggested he was a relationship-type of guy. He probably got around as much as he could. I couldn't fault him for that exactly, but it said he was used to the hit-and-quit kind of situation. And while I might have had two or three affairs in my time, I was not a hit-and-quit kind of girl.

Though maybe just this one time...

No.

Okay. I needed to get my shit together and focus on the things that mattered: work, friends, finding my sister. I didn't need to waste brain space thinking about a non-relationship that had absolutely no potential to
become
a relationship.

So yeah.

That was the plan.

--

Nine and a half hours later, I felt marginally better. I threw myself into work. I hit the gym for a good, heart-pounding workout, spending most of the time running on the treadmill. First, because it was great cardio. Second, because it was a good way to focus because I hated it so much. Third, it worked off some of the stress and sexual tension.

"Running like you think you can actually outrun your problems," Shane Mallick, the gym owner, and also, apparently, the loan shark, commented as I made my way toward the doors afterward.

"Hell, maybe if I commit hard enough, I can."

"Wishful thinking, sweetheart," his voice followed as I walked outside.

And, well, I knew that was true. But still, I felt alright as I pulled into my drive and went into my house. I went up and took a shower, watching the tattoo cover-up run down my body after scrubbing with a loufa. It even lasted through a sweaty workout. That stuff was amazing. I imagined if my bruises didn't start fading, I was going to be using it for a while.

I had just slipped into a very unappealing outfit of oversize sweats and a roomy, ratty tee when my doorbell chimed. I ran down the stairs, blindly pushing on my glasses as I fiddled with the locks.

"Oh," I said, jumping back slightly at the image of Paine standing on my front steps. Not only was he standing there, but he was cleaned up. Meaning, that he had on black slacks, a tailored, tucked-in black button-up, a black belt with a nice solid silver buckle, and a watch on his wrist that years of watch buying for my father told me cost at least five grand. "Um... hi," I fumbled, realizing I had been staring.

"Hey babygirl," he said, doing an inspection with an amused smile.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

"Taking you to dinner," he said, slipping his hands into his front pockets.

"You're taking me to dinner? Now?"

"No, next Thursday. I got dressed for the fuck of it."

"Why?" I asked, brows drawing together.

I had pretty successfully managed to convince myself Paine was a thing of the past over the past few hours. So him standing at my door, all cleaned up and asking me on a date, yeah... I was a little confused.

"Gotta eat. I can do it alone. I'd rather do it while looking at a gorgeous face. I left an hour for you to get yourself together. Don't know how long it takes you to slip into a dress and heels, but judging by how long it takes my sisters, we'll probably still be late for our reservation."

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the fog. "I, ah, I'll be done in half an hour."

"Miracle," Paine said, rocking back onto the heels of his black dress shoes. "You forgetting something, babygirl?"

Forgetting something? What could I be forgetting seeing as I hadn't expected him in the first place?

"You gonna kiss me or not?"

"Oh," I said, feeling a silly smile pull at my lips as I stepped into the doorway, leaned up, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"I don't know what the fuck that was, but it wasn't a kiss," he complained as soon as I went down on my flat feet.

My lips twitched. "Maybe you need to show me what a kiss is then," I challenged.

Before I could even finish speaking, his hand was at the back of my neck and he was simultaneously moving into the entryway and slamming me back against the wall as his mouth crashed down on mine. There was nothing tentative or gentle about the kiss. His lips seared into mine, claiming them, branding them, guaranteeing I would feel him there for hours afterward.