Storm Warning (Security Specialists International Book 4) (16 page)

He murmured, “I’ve been trying very hard to show you not all men are rat-ass bastards.”

“And you’ve succeeded.” She sniffed and then snickered. “I even like your macho-male over-protectiveness, just as long as you can accept that I’ll want to protect you in return.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way. I adore the fact you’re a kick-ass kind of woman.” He chuckled. “You’ve met my mother and sister, so you know Walsh men aren’t afraid they’ll lose their dominant-male-card just because their women are also bad asses.”

“Yeah, I think I gathered that.” She spoke against his shoulder. “So,” and he heard the hesitancy in her voice return, “you aren’t going to get mad or throw me out if I can only handle the massage and maybe some kissing and cuddling followed by sleeping—just sleeping—in your arms?”

“I won’t get mad—and the only way you’ll leave my house tonight is if
you choose
to go.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Plus, the activities you listed are right in line with my stealth courting plan.”

DJ raised her head and arched a brow. Her eyes held amusement. “Stealth courting plan? You had a plan?”

“Yep. Plans are good. We macho brand of geeks like plans.” He winked and kissed her nose which had scrunched in an adorable way.

“So, what
exactly
did this plan involve?” she teased.

Tweeter let out a relieved breath that she wasn’t angry.

“First step was to gain your trust and friendship in order to demonstrate I’m not like other men you’ve known. I then planned to move onto kissing and some heavy petting. After that, sleeping together and eventually making love … at your pace. But the stay in the cave seems to have jumped the line for some of my plans since we slept together for two nights and some kissing has already occurred.”

“Heavy petting?” She snicker-snorted in a cute feminine way and was so adorable he had to take her lips in a light kiss that quickly turned hot and heavy with lots of tongue tangling on both sides. They both were groaning by the time he managed to pull away.

“Um,” DJ swallowed hard, “I haven’t heard foreplay called heavy petting since high school. You did mean with bases and everything?”

Tweeter grinned. “Yep. I want you used to my touch and my body—and the intensity of my desire—before we get to home plate.” He brushed soft kisses over her face. “When you see, hear, smell, and feel me, I want you only to think of pleasure.”

“Oh my gawd,” she breathed into his mouth just as he captured her lips for another kiss. After several seconds, DJ pulled away first this time, her breath coming in rapid gasps. “When I’m ready … have no doubt, you’ll be the only man in my head. You’ve already given me pleasure by caring for me as you do. No man has ever treated me the way you do … as if I’m … special.”

What the fuck? She didn’t think she was special? What had been wrong with the men in her life?

He couldn’t let one more second go by without saying—“You’re more than special.” He held her close and rocked her. “You’re smart, strong, brave, loving, and so damn beautiful you make my heart hurt. On top of that, you’re a kick-ass fighter, a crack shot, a damn good chopper pilot…”

If Ace didn’t stop being so sweet, DJ might start crying again. Before she’d met him, she hardly ever cried. His words, his care for her—and, yes, the passion he expressed for her in those words and actions—had liberated a gentler, more tender side of her that she’d buried deeply after the rape. As her mother had always told her, actions speak louder than words. Ace’s actions screamed his feelings for her.

DJ reveled in Ace’s gentle strength as he held her close. Inhaling deeply, his scent calmed her, smoothed over her jagged nerves. His low voice, reciting all the things he liked about her, set her heart pounding. And his kisses, both the soft ones he now pressed against her hair and the earlier more carnal ones, made her quiver and her pussy wet.

The man had wormed his way into her heart and mind—and she was more than happy with him being there. But she was still worried about the physical side of the relationship. No matter how patient he was willing to be, eventually he’d want more. And truth be told, her body wanted him, but could she handle anything more intimate than a massage?

Let’s find out, Dahlia Jane.

She shoved lightly against his chest. He let her go, but didn’t look happy about it. She got off his lap and sat next to him. Tracing the deep furrows on his forehead and around his mouth, she said, “Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.”

He captured her finger and kissed it. “I liked you on my lap. Makes it easier to get to the heavy petting part of the program.”

Again her body shouted “yes.” Her nipples beaded tightly and her panties got damp. Yet her mind wasn’t quite there. In her very limited experience, men lost control when they were aroused.

This is Ace … not any generic man.

Yes, which was the only reason she was at this juncture in intimacy. No other man would’ve gotten this far.

At least keep your options open.

That was the plan—and the promised massage would be a good way to ease into other pathways to intercourse.

“DJ?” Ace studied her. The crease she’d erased on his forehead had returned. “Where did you go? Are you scared? We can always watch a movie or go to the Lodge and play pool.”

“Shh.” She placed her fingers over his mouth. “I’m fine right here. Plus, you promised me a massage.” She leaned back and pulled her thermal top over her head, leaving her in her sports bra and jeans. “And I’m holding you to that promise.”

Ace’s gaze fixed on her breasts, or in this case, at what they were encased in.

“What the hell? Why do you bind your breasts like that? I cut one of those torture devices off you when we were in the cave.” He stood and traced a calloused finger around the tight edges of her super-reinforced sports bra. The light touch sent a frisson of awareness down her spine and made her clit quiver. “You’re cutting off your circulation. That can’t be healthy.”

DJ choked back a laugh at his description of her athletic bra. Heck, she didn’t disagree with him, but until today’s shopping trip, these were the only types of bras she owned. Callie’d had the same reaction as Ace and dragged her to the lingerie department at Macy’s and made her buy more feminine bras. The ex-model had also promised to get her some nice designer bras, such as La Perla, through her industry contacts.

“Got used to wearing these for extra support in the Army—and to keep from calling unwanted attention to my breasts. Just haven’t had the time or inclination to buy new ones.” Ace moved closer and pulled her against his body. The erection she’d felt while sitting on his lap seemed to have grown. “If they’re uncomfortable, lose the sports bras, please. If any guy says anything about your breasts or makes a move on you, you let me know. I’ll handle it.”

He slid his hands up her back. “Now, let’s get this one off you. It might take me all night to soothe away all the marks this fucking thing put on your body.” He tugged the sports bra over her head. As he examined her upper body, he shook his head, a frown on his lips. “Hell, that sucker had to have pulled on your neck and shoulder muscles.”

Ace’s observations were just another hallmark of his protective nature. He wouldn’t even allow inanimate objects to hurt her.

“Yeah, it did. Callie and a clerk helped me pick out some new ones.”

“Good for Callie.” He massaged the marks on her shoulders.

Feeling a bit awkward, DJ crossed her arms over her breasts and looked anywhere but at the intense look on Ace’s face. His expression was a mixture of lingering distaste for the marks the bra had made and pleasure at the sight of her breasts. Testing her mood, she found neither emotion bothered her. Both demonstrated he cared for her.

“Trust me?” Ace sounded uncertain as he focused on her crossed arms.

Startled, DJ looked up and found a worried look in her man’s eyes. That wouldn’t do. She dropped her arms and moved closer until she could twine her arms around his neck. “I trust you. Just a little shy.”

Ace let out a sigh of relief and began to stroke her back, his thumbs kneading the lines caused by the bra. She moaned at how good his hands felt on her naked skin and how the motion caused her 36Ds to rub against his lightly furred chest. His chest hair tickled, aroused, and caused her nipples to tighten even more.

“That feels so good.” Goose bumps scattered over her exposed skin. She leaned into him even more.

“It’s supposed to.” Ace kissed the top of her shoulder. “Let’s get you lying down so I can work at these knots along your spine.” He trailed a thumb down one side of her spine. She moaned. “I won’t touch … anywhere you don’t want me to.”

Ace brought his thumb up the other side of her spine. He kissed his way over her shoulder to nuzzle her neck and then hummed, the sexy purr of a large cat. “You feel and smell wonderful.”

DJ heard truth in his words, heard the need he suppressed. He was trying so hard not to scare her. She wanted him so badly—her desire increased with each tender touch and caring word—but she was still worried she’d freeze at the wrong moment.

Take one step at a time, Dahlia Jane. Whatever happens, he’ll treat you with care.

Yes, he would. She pulled away from his light grasp and gave him a shy smile, then turned to head toward the bedroom. “I’m leaving my ski leggings on. We’ll start with my back and take it from there. If a back massage is all I can handle—”

“Then that’s what you’ll get. We’re going at your pace. I’m looking for a relationship, not a one-night-stand.”

His statement alleviated any last twinge of doubt in her conscious mind. And if her subconscious mind reared its ugly head, then Ace would handle it.

Ace followed her, moving as silently as a cat. His dad and brothers had done a good job, teaching him how to stalk quietly. So, she wasn’t too surprised when his next words were whispered hotly across one bare shoulder.

“And you’ll sleep with me.” A statement, not a question.

She thrilled at the hint of dominance sheathed in a velvet glove.

“You can sleep in one of my T-shirts and your long johns. I’ll wear my boxers. I want to hold you all night just like in the cave. Deal?”

“Deal,” she whispered, but knew he’d heard her when he placed a nibbling kiss on her shoulder. She shivered.

“Thank you for your trust. It means a lot to me.” He patted her jeans-covered ass. “Strip to your long johns, sugar. Grab a bath towel to protect the sheets from the oil and then lie on it, face down. I’ll warm up some almond massage oil. Any scent you don’t like?”

“You have choices?” She looked over her shoulder and blushed at the loving, appreciative look in Ace’s eyes.

He grinned. “I have a sister who’s into aromatherapy and holistic healing methods. She pushed some of her smelly stuff on me and, damn, if she wasn’t correct. The stuff really works.”

DJ chuckled. She could see Keely lecturing her brother and probably every other macho male on Sanctuary about the healing properties of herbs and flowers.

“No preferences as to a particular scent. However, I’m still sore and somewhat bruised from the avalanche. Some arnica would be nice.”

“Arnica and peppermint—it’ll be calming.” He turned and left the room. She barely caught the words he muttered—“for both of us.”

A rush of happiness warmed the cold, dark places inside where Sean had done a lot of damage. Ace wanted her badly, but he wasn’t pressuring her as other men had. It had taken traveling the world and ten years, but she’d finally found the one man who could deal with her intimacy issues.

DJ stripped off her jeans, leaving her ski leggings on. Entering the large and very sumptuous granite-tiled master bath, she pulled a large bath sheet in charcoal grey off a heated towel bar. She re-entered the bedroom and placed it on the king-size bed. Lying on the towel, she moaned at how good the heated terry cloth felt against her tired, achy body. She luxuriated in the warmth for several seconds before propping herself up on her forearms to take in more details of Ace’s bedroom.

An accent wall at the head of the simple steel-gray iron tester bed was made up of white and gray rock and was lit by hidden lights from above and below. The bed sheets were pristine white; the blankets and linen bedspread were various shades of gray. The floors were stained cement and had been warm on her bare feet. White rugs she’d once heard someone call “flokati” were placed on each side of the bed and in the small seating area off to the far side of the room.

The seating area was anchored by a stone fireplace centered in the middle of a floor-to-ceiling window wall; the view was of the rustic mountain landscape. The rest of the bedroom walls were dark-stained rough wood that reminded her of the tobacco barns she’d seen in her youth. The room’s art and accent colors were all Native American in shades of reds, golds, blues, and greens.

The overall effect was both masculine and artistic. Everything was neat and clean, probably the result of being raised by a Marine.

“Like it?”

She turned her head to find Ace standing at the end of the bed, his gleaming gaze focused on her and nothing else.

“Just like the great room … it’s you.” Strong and intelligent, but also sensitive and intuitive. She angled her head toward the window. “We gonna put on a show for anyone just happening by?”

Ace’s lips twisted upwards as he shook his head. He walked to the side of the bed and picked up what looked like a remote control, then aimed it at the window wall and pushed a button. A slight whooshing noise and blinds made of some sort of translucent, dark fabric came down over the expanse of glass on either side of the fireplace. Another push of a button and the fireplace flamed into life.

“Cool gadgets.” She wrinkled her nose. “But people can still see through the fabric, Ace, because I can see out. It’s taking every nerve I have to bare this much for you … not sure I can handle anyone else seeing me half-naked with you touching me.”

“No worries, sugar. We can see out. No one can see in.” Ace swept a hand up and down her back. He hadn’t even started the massage yet and already her skin tingled. Once he really got going, she might just die from a surfeit of sensation.

“Never in this world will I let anything, anyone, or any situation hurt or embarrass you. You can take that promise to the bank.” He leaned over and placed a kiss at the top of her spine as he traced a finger along the waistband of her leggings. He then used a thumb to knead the knots she hadn’t even realized she had at the base of her spine.

DJ collapsed her arms and face-planted into the mattress. “Gawd,” she sighed into the towel beneath her, “that feels good.”

“I aim to please.” He peppered kisses up her spine. The sensation made her giggle. He stole her breath when he placed a light bite at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

The mattress moved as Ace climbed onto the bed. “I’m gonna straddle your legs so I can get better leverage. Is that okay?”

She smiled. Even now, he took the time to make sure she wouldn’t freak out.

“I’m good.”

“You’re better than good.” He pressed his jeans-covered knees against the outside of her thighs.

The sensation of something warm and oily hit her back. The contrast between the heated oil and her air-cooled skin made her shiver. Ace’s touch as he began with long and light strokes up and down her back made her moan.

The scent of the peppermint and the lulling motion of Ace’s hands almost put her to sleep. Then he got down to work, working out each and every knot along her spine. The feeling was both painful and sublime. She groaned. Sweet Jesus, she could get used to this.

“You hurting?” The question was whispered next to her ear.

“Hmmm. More.” She arched upward onto her forearms and looked at him over one shoulder. His face was close. “Kiss me. Then could you work on my cervicals a bit more? My neck is still twinging from being stuck sideways in a hole in the mountain.”

He smiled and took her lips in a light kiss which ended all too soon. “You good? I mean, have I triggered—”

She rushed to cut off that line of thinking. “No bad memories. Everything you do makes me feel wonderful.” She closed her eyes as she prepared to savor every single second of his touch and closeness. “I’d tell you if it were bad.” She plopped face forward on the towel once more. “You’ve got healing hands, Stuart Allen Walsh.”

Even better, he was also healing her from the inside out.

“Neck and cervicals coming up. Let me know if my touch gets too aggressive.” Ace began rubbing across the fiber of the muscles at the nape of her neck. It was painful, but it was a good pain. She could almost feel the lactic acid release as he unknotted muscles that had been hard and hurting for days … weeks … maybe even years from stress. Soon, she floated on a haze of what felt like an endorphin release, losing all touch with reality. She might’ve even lightly dozed.

Then he stopped and she groaned, “No-o-o-o. Feels good.”

Ace chuckled and placed another biting kiss on the place where her neck joined her shoulder. “Let’s put you to bed, sleepy head.”

She opened heavy-lidded eyes and smiled. Ace wore a look of amused indulgence. Looking more closely into his eyes, she found banked desire. Her body reacted. Her nipples pebbled tightly. Her core clutched at emptiness that only he could fill. She wanted him, but was too tired to figure out what to ask for.