Veiled Seduction (7 page)

The honest anguish in his voice startled her into tightening her arms around his neck. “What?”

He took a deep breath. “You remember when I was in med school you would tease me about how paranoid I was?”

Leyla remembered. It seemed like every time she talked to Mason back then, he was spouting some gloom and doom about a new illness or disease.

“I mean, it’s like, we get hit upside the head with all this knowledge about how fragile the human body is, all the horrible things that can go wrong with it. And then we practice and it all kind of becomes commonplace. You…you get used to it, used to people dying or getting sick. Or you just think, it can’t happen to you or the people you love.” He glanced up at her, his eyes unfocused. “Even when Ash was born. I know about all of the stuff that can go wrong with babies. But I held her and I was so damn certain none of it would happen to her. She wouldn’t have CP or die from SIDS or drown in a pool. Not our baby.”

He shuddered. “Those parents at the hospital. They’re all just sitting around and waiting. How many of them thought the same thing when they held their babies? In a few years, Ash is going to have to go to school. That could be her. Or you. That teacher, she was just at work. You’re in the lingerie store by yourself so much, what if someone comes in and opens fire?”

She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted the saltiness of her tears. “Oh, Mason. Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling with all of this?” The horror of the shooting had touched her, but obviously not to the degree it had affected him. Her reality had revolved around her brother. Mason had witnessed every person who rolled through the hospital doors.

He sucked in a ragged breath. “When I heard the cop who got injured was Sasha…it was like my world got turned upside down, and I started thinking about all this stuff. You and Sasha and Ash…I don’t have any family but the three of you. If he can be hurt, that means you and the baby… God. I think I’d die, Leyla.”

Her heart clenched. “Don’t say things like that. Listen to me. Look at me, Mason.”

He used the trick she’d been on to since he was about thirteen and trying to avoid her gaze, looking just over her left shoulder. She grasped his chin in her hand and made him look directly at her. “Sure, bad things happen. I worry every time you have a night call and you drive to and from the hospital because you’re tired. I worry that somehow Ash will figure out how to get past the cabinet locks and into the Drano. I worry a million times over about the fact that Sasha carries a gun while at work.” She made a face. “Though maybe that worked out for him this time. The point is, I will never stop worrying about any of you. You’re all the family I have too. But just because something bad could happen, doesn’t mean we can all bury ourselves in our home and never come out again. It just means we have to enjoy the time we have together.” She gave him a watery smile. “Listen to me, I sound like a Hallmark card.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Yeah, you do.”

She hugged him tight and savored the solid feel of him against her. It would take him, and her, some time to get over this. Amazing how the actions of one crazy man with a gun could create ripples of trauma and pain, touching people who weren’t even directly involved in the crime itself.

She brushed her lips across the base of his neck. He shifted. The heavy thickness of his erection, obvious through the soft denim of his jeans, surprised her. So did the fast, almost painful kiss he delivered.

She responded, opening her mouth, allowing her tongue to touch his. Immediately his arms hardened around her and he crushed her closer. His lips turned from gentle to devouring, sucking on her tongue, her lips.

He anchored a hand in her hair so that his palm cradled the nape of her neck. Tilted her head to get deeper access. She broke away with a gasp. “Mason…”

There was something hot and a little wild in his eyes when she looked at him. He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’m sorry. I just…” He shook his head. “I’m not sorry. I need you. Now.”

She stroked a finger over his wet lip and then drew it away to kiss him with exactly the same amount of bruising force he’d shown her. “Then take me.”

The blue of his eyes deepened to cerulean. “The baby.”

“Is fast asleep. But let’s go to the bedroom just to be on the safe side, hmm?”

He released her hips and leaned back on the couch. “Run.”

He didn’t need to say anything else. The “or else” was heavily implied. With a half laugh, half squeal, she darted out of their living room and down the hall, thanking God that their daughter’s room was on the other side of the ranch home.

His rasping breath sounded louder as he gained on her. She knew he was being careful to keep barely a step or two behind her. Her heart thudded as she flew through the door of their master bedroom, more from excitement than actual exertion. She pivoted at the sound of him closing and locking the door behind them.

As soon as the lock was turned, he tore his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. His jeans and boxers were unsnapped, unzipped and down his legs in seconds as well, leaving his already hardened cock bared.

Well hello.

She met his gaze, and wanting to play with that desperate edge just a little bit more, turned and lunged across the bed.

He caught her easily—she would have been disappointed if he hadn’t. Gripping her around the hips, he dragged her back until she was on her hands and knees, her ass in the air. He leaned in close and nuzzled her hair aside. “It’ll be hard.”

She shivered. They had a satisfying sex life. But with marriage and a child came mortgages and play dates and the occasional monotony.

That particular tone, the rough demand and need from her husband, didn’t come too often, and she reacted to it as if he’d poured gasoline right onto a small fire. Her body relaxed submissively below his dominant one, her core wetting and readying for the pounding thrusts of his body. “I don’t mind.”

He growled, already reaching below her, and he unsnapped and unfastened her jeans. A few jerks and he had them and her panties off. “Give me your hands.”

Another rush of arousal flooded through her pussy as she placed her hands behind her back. He readjusted her body so her head and shoulders were flat against the bed, her ass lifted to the sky. She heard rustling and felt him loop fabric around her wrists.

“Are those…?” Her breath hitched, the idea scandalous.

“Your panties,” he confirmed, with a wicked edge to his voice. He paused, as if he were enjoying the view. “God, you look so sexy. Tied up with your own panties, your ass and pussy offered up for me…” He stroked her exposed buttocks and dipped his finger into her channel. She moaned and raised her hips higher. He fucked her lazily with his forefinger.

Ignoring her small whimper of protest, he removed his finger and smoothed his hands higher, coasting them up her sides and under her yellow T-shirt. “And then up here, you’re still all prim and proper soccer mom.” He bent over her so his cock rode the crevice of her ass. He shoved the cups of her bra down, filling his hands with the mounds and pinching the nipples with exactly the amount of pressure she needed. “It’s so hot. I love the difference.”

She turned her head to try to capture his lips to seduce him into giving her what she craved. He withdrew his hands and slowly stretched so he stood behind her again. He delivered a small, almost careless pat to her ass cheek. “Stay still. I’ll be right back.”

She heard him walk away and rested her cheek against the comforter so she could watch him enter the closet. The thought of what they kept there, tucked away on the top shelf in an innocuous shoebox out of reach from inquisitive little hands, made her burn even more.

It felt like he was gone forever. Instead of abating her lust, it only drove it higher, each tick of the clock on the nightstand sounding off the beat of the blood flowing in the inflamed tissues of her pussy. The air conditioning kicked on, blowing over the wetness. Her bra was twisted below her breasts and her nipples rubbed against the cotton of her shirt. All of it inflamed her further.

She watched him exit their large walk-in closet with a tube of lubrication and a vibrator. Judging from the high flush on his cheeks and the curve of his cock, his arousal was unabated as well.

He tsked when his eyes met hers. “I thought I told you not to move.”

“If you’d hurry up, maybe I wouldn’t have had to.”

Laughter danced in his eyes as he walked toward her waiting body, stalking behind her once again. “You’re awfully demanding for someone who’s tied up and at my mercy.”

Her body ached. “Please, Mason.”

His fingers found the opening of her pussy. The cold air hit her as he opened her and she waited, tensed, for the broad head of his cock.

Instead, she felt the nubby, rubbery texture of the vibrator. She gasped as he drove it in with a strong, sure thrust. She was wet enough that he was able to push it in to the base without waiting for her to adjust. He pulled it out almost as quickly so the head of it just kissed her opening. “Put it back,” she gasped.

He turned it on the lowest possible setting and then shoved it in again. He only gave her a second to enjoy it before removing it.

He did that for a few strong thrusts until she was whimpering, her body aching with emptiness. The vibrator had nothing on his cock—the rubberized prop couldn’t begin to compare with him, either in size or feel. When he withdrew the next time, she rocked back, her impatience making her hungry.

“Did you want something?” he asked her, his tone as casual as if he were asking what side dish she preferred with her dinner.

“Mason, stop teasing me or I’ll kill you.”

He chuckled and held the fake cock at the entrance of her pussy lips, nudging it just inside. “Show me what you want. Fuck this for me.”

She didn’t need any more encouragement. She rocked her hips back and forth, fucking the vibrator he held motionless. He groaned. “Now this is an even prettier picture.”

What a spectacle she must be making of herself, her ass raised and naked in the air as she screwed the vibrator he held, her pink panties twisted around her wrists. Her breath came faster, her body moving quicker.

Though she was lost in desire, she couldn’t miss the snap of the lubrication tube’s cap. She stilled, knowing what was coming next and craving it with every breath she took.

“Do you know what would make this picture even better?”

She nodded, her forehead against the mattress.

“I wonder if I should be nice and give you a choice as to what I’ll use to fuck your ass.”

Her breath caught. “Don’t.”

He spread her cheeks. The dollop of lubricant he squirted on her anus was cold, but warmed quickly as he used his thumb to push it inside. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t be nice.”

He cursed, the sound rough and low. In the next instant, the broad head of his cock breached the entrance to her ass. The tight ring of muscle resisted him at first, but he knew her body well. In a couple inches then out one, then in again until he was lodged balls deep. He paused for a moment, and the rubber of the vibrator steadily breached her pussy until she was completely filled.

With a flick of his wrist the vibrator turned on to full blast, shocking every nerve ending and causing a hell of a climax to rush through her. He fucked her through the contractions in her pussy, moaning as her ass tightened on him. Her body didn’t stay empty for even a second. She came to reality, panting and exhausted to find him still steadily pumping inside of her. He pulled the vibrator from her pussy and tossed it next to her, grabbing her hips, all of his focus on his own pleasure. She closed her eyes and weathered the ride, taking his thrusts and his passion. He gave a low groan and thrust into her one last time, his balls slapping against her flesh, as he came long and hard.

He caught himself on his arms and withdrew slowly, her ass letting him go in small increments. He fumbled with the fabric around her wrists and then her hands were free. Mason helped her lower them from her back and turned her over, arranging both of them until she lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. He used the arm encircling her to rub feeling back into her limbs as they stared at the ceiling and caught their breath.

“I don’t mean for this to diminish all the other times we’ve made love,” he rumbled. “But. Wow.”

“Mmmm.” She turned her head and kissed his chest. “We need to do this more often.”

“Have crazy wild sex?”

“Yup.” She rolled over and stacked her hands on his chest. “I love our sex life. But I think it’s nice to toss in moments like this.” She left the rest unsaid: if something happened to either of them, she wanted no what-ifs, no regrets.

They knew each other so well she didn’t need to say it. He drew her closer and pressed a light kiss on her lips.

“You need to get married.”

“Mmm.”

“I mean it, Maira, you’re going to be twenty-five in just a few weeks. That’s the perfect age for marriage.”

Maira sighed. Only her mother would have marked out a window of marriageable age for her daughters. She allowed her parent’s softly accented voice to flow over her while she effectively zoned out. There wasn’t much to distract herself with in the tiny cramped office she shared with other doctors. After she counted the babies in the poster someone had hung on the back of the door—and what sick person put babies in pots anyway?—she started to sort through the paper on her desk.

“…turn your skin lighter!”

She frowned and readjusted the phone between her shoulder and her ear. “What?”

“I said, your aunt told me that your cousin used this cream that promises to turn your skin two shades lighter in a month. You know Rabiah got engaged last week.”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to bleach my skin so I can land a husband?”

“It’s a cream. It’s not a bleach.”

“What it is is a gimmick. Come on, Mom.” Really, why was she surprised? Her mother was constantly trying to fix her defects so she could become more attractive to a good man.

Men do like doctors, sweetheart, but try not to act too smart.

It’s nice that you have height, so why don’t you wear flats? That way you won’t tower so much.

You need to get out of those scrubs. None of your colleagues are going to be attracted to someone they see as just a coworker.

“I think it could work.”

“I like my skin the color it is, Mom,” she said, as mildly as she could.

“You’re getting irritated.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I think I’ll come down and visit you.”

Without making a sound, she slapped her hand against her forehead. Her parents lived about two hours away. When she’d taken this job, it had been a nice change to be within driving distance of her family after she’d been across the country for college and medical school.

She was an idiot.

“I need to go visit Sonia and the baby soon anyway. I’ll stop by to visit you once I’m done there.”

Her older sister lived between her and her parents. Sonia, as her mother reminded her often, had married a nice Pakistani-American man right around twenty-five, and popped out an adorable baby ten months later. Well, maybe her mother would get so satisfied seeing her sister’s perfect life, she wouldn’t need to spend anytime harping about hers. Maira could dream, couldn’t she?

“Mmm. Oh, look, my pager’s beeping. I have to go.”

“Don’t frown.”

“What?”

“When you’re rushing and stressed you tend to frown. It’ll leave lines on your forehead.”

Argh! What the hell? Maira caught a glimpse of her face in the framed mirror on the wall. The frown that was so obviously reflected back at her only made her more irritated. She consciously relaxed. “Goodbye.” She placed the phone down and then leaned back in her seat, stretching. Her mother was going to kill her.

She could get a man, if she wanted…

Maira stopped mid-stretch. Because that little sentence, which usually worked wonders on her self-esteem after one of these discussions with her mom, didn’t really apply anymore, did it?

She had wanted. She hadn’t gotten.

She closed her eyes and tried to push thoughts of that particular man out of her brain. So, what? So she’d chosen unwisely. It certainly wasn’t her. It was him.

You’re not too smart.

Nope.

Or too tall.

She was the perfect height.

Or not pretty enough.

She could be pretty. She glanced down at her usual uniform of light blue scrubs. Maybe not every day, but she had a hectic job, and the scrubs were comfortable. She was pretty when she tried. Hell, she’d gone all out for him the other day.

She’d gambled, she’d lost, and that was that.

Any minute now, she’d stop thinking about him and how monumentally stupid she was.

Her shoulders sagged. Gah, who was she kidding? In one way or another, he’d been on her mind for the past five days, since that horrible farce in his kitchen. After she’d sobbed her heart out for a full day and night—clutching a pillow against her chest, teen-heartbreak style, no less—she’d quickly traded shifts so she could throw herself into work, but she was off again today. She’d come in anyway, hoping she’d find something to distract her. Lord knew, she was too practical and reasonable a person to stomach much more mooning.

Plus, vulnerability in any form didn’t fly in her line of work. The E.R. was still a boy’s club. For a woman to play, one needed a certain degree of arrogance and confidence. Self-doubt was an insidious creature, worming over from agonizing about looks and desirability to affecting the skills she needed to perform effectively.

With a determined shove, she pushed back from the desk and promptly hit the filing cabinet behind her. She gathered six bulging bags of toys that sat on the floor. In an effort to avoid going home last night—not because she was avoiding thinking of that man, she just didn’t want to go home—she’d decided to pick up a couple of little gifts for the two kids who had fought their way out of the intensive care unit. The other children from the attack had already been discharged.

Since she’d felt bad about excluding the other children in the ward, she’d picked up enough to cover everyone. It had taken a chunk of change, but, well, she had no one else to spend her discretionary income on.

She was almost able to forget him as she distributed the presents. The children’s enthusiasm lightened her grey mood. By the time she reached the last door, she was pleasantly energized.

That is, until she opened the door and saw a very familiar face sitting negligently in the armchair next to the young boy she’d come to visit. She would have retreated quietly and shut the door, but Sasha turned his head, his black eyes flaring when he looked at her.

Well now you’ll just look stupid if you back out. She fixed a determined smile on her face and entered the room.

Carefully avoiding looking at him, she studied the little boy in the bed. “Hey there, Dylan. How’s it hanging?”

“Hey, Dr. Khan. Did you come to visit me too?”

“Just for a minute.” She wiggled the small box in her hand. “Thought you might be getting bored. Your mom said you like puzzles, so I brought one for you.”

Dylan’s small face lit up. He was a sweet, towheaded little boy, the last one to be upgraded from critical to stable two days ago. A bandage was wrapped around his head where a bullet had hit him. Another was wrapped around his chest. All in all, Maira knew it was considered something of a miracle he hadn’t died.

“Thanks. Lieutenant Karimi came by to visit me.”

Since she couldn’t completely ignore Sasha now, she cast him a dismissive glance. She was startled to find him watching her with a steady black gaze. There was no anger or disgust in his look. It snared her, made it impossible to look away. She gave a slight incline of her head. “Lieutenant.”

“Doctor.”

His voice sounded deep and gravelly. With great effort, she tore her gaze away and smiled at the boy. “That’s very nice. It’s great to have visitors.”

“When I heard Dylan here was doing so much better, I had to come and say hi.” Sasha stood and reached out a hand to gently pat the boy’s leg. “I better get going though.”

Thank God. She felt immediately uncharitable when Dylan’s face fell. “Will you come back?”

“Sure. Your parents said they didn’t want to tire you out though, so it may be a couple of days.”

The kid had no small amount of hero worship for the big cop who had saved his life. No doubt he’d heard the story. Sasha was easy to idolize. Not only did he look like a hero, he acted like one too.

Stop thinking about him like that.

Nothing wrong with admiring the way a man does his job.

He stopped briefly in front of her. She had the feeling he was going to say something, and she just couldn’t stand it. With a quick nod, she stepped aside.

The moment passed and he left the room without speaking further.

She spent some time chatting with Dylan, but left after a few minutes, hoping that would be enough time for Sasha to have left the floor. Hell, the building. As she traversed the corridor, she tried to avoid thinking of the man by making her grocery list. In alphabetical order.

She’d only gotten to cauliflower when a pair of footsteps fell in place next to hers. Her skin prickled, the fine hairs on her neck rising up. She didn’t even need to glance over to confirm her suspicions. The best defense… “May I help you?” Her tone was pure stiff snootiness. So much for trying to act unaffected.

“I need to talk to you.”

“No thank you.”

“I went by your place yesterday, but you weren’t home.”

She masked her surprise. “I was working.”

“Maira, look at me.”

She kept her gaze firmly on the sterile tile in front of her. No way she’d take the elevator back down to her office. It was harder to ignore a person on the elevator. She kept grimly silent as they passed the nurses’ station and walked down the isolated hallway that led to the stairs. She quickened her steps. She had such long legs, people usually had a tough time keeping up with her, but not Sasha. He easily lengthened his stride to match hers.

He sighed. A second later, a strong hand wrapped around her arm, and she was hauled through an open door. The darkness closed around her as Sasha shut the door behind him. The lock made a clicking noise as he slid it into place. The slight hint of ammonia swept over her.

Janitor’s closet, was her first thought.

What the fuck, was her second.

“What the fuck?” she growled and spun around. She could just barely make out the basic shape of his hulking body.

“Ms. Maira, are you cursing?”

His teasing tone, so utterly normal and common before everything had exploded, fanned the flame of anger in her chest. Before she could think, she hauled back her arm and punched him in the stomach.

He didn’t even flinch, the bastard. “You’ve got potential, but you hit like a girl.”

She was equally furious and alarmed. She’d never hit anyone, not in her entire life. She was usually calm to the point of being comatose. “You may not realize it, but I am a girl.”

His shadowy hulk froze. When he spoke again, his tone was gentle. “I realize it.”

The anger drained away, as quickly as it had come. Why was he torturing her like this? Did he just want to punish her some more? “What do you want?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“So you’re detaining me inside of a janitor’s closet until I do?”

“Yeah.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“I know. I didn’t think I’d actually have to lock you up to get you to listen to my apology.”

Wait, what? Apology? Now she was really startled. “Mr, I-never-back-down is apologizing?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

Her heart raced. It doesn’t mean anything. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Um. Because of what I said, the other day. I mean, I’ve known you awhile. I should know well enough that you’re a good person, you’re not like others. You’re not a fake and you’re not a groupie. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. And, I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Is there something else I should be apologizing for?”

Yes. You should apologize for not loving me the way I love you. You should apologize for not seeing how perfect we are together.

“No,” she said tightly. “Sounds about right. Thanks.”

She moved to get past him, but he seized her by the arms. “You don’t sound happy.”

“I’m fine. Thrilled. Let me go.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

God, didn’t he get that it was killing her to be so close to him in such close confines? The heat radiating from his body was torture. “I have to go.” She shoved her body weight against him, taking him by surprise. His hold loosened, and she managed to scoot past him. Her hand was on the doorknob when his body pressed up against the back of hers. She froze, the thin cotton of her scrubs doing nothing to keep her from feeling all of him.

His hands encircled her waist, his cheek pressed against hers. He inhaled and exhaled right next to her face, and she realized they were breathing in tandem.

“Do you—do you make a habit of pushing women up against doors?” She hadn’t meant for the question to come out, particularly not in the half-flirtatious way it may have sounded to him.

“Only you.” He pressed closer and moved his mouth next to her ear. “You didn’t let me finish. The reason I was so mad, so crazy the other day, was because I felt betrayed and…disappointed.”

She held her breath until she felt lightheaded. “Betrayed?”

“Yeah. I mean, here I was all this time, liking you, slowly feeling you out, not trying to rush you, and suddenly I thought you were acting like every other woman out to get a piece of me. I was furious, yeah, but I was also hurt. It doesn’t excuse what I did or said, but, well, maybe you can better understand why I did it.”

Wait. Wait.

He’d bombarded her with so much, she couldn’t begin to process all of it. “Liking me?”

He sighed. “Yes. Maira, you’re more than just a friend to me.”

“Your sister.” She’d heard that before.

“No. Gross, that’s disgusting. I-I have thought of you in a…romantic way. But you’re also my friend, and the friend of my relatives, and you’re so sweet and young that I didn’t want to screw up.”

Slowly, it all pieced together, and she had to bite her lip against the pain in her heart. She was his buddy, and she worked with his brother-in-law. He was doing damage control. There was little the man wouldn’t do for his family. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You’re lying.”

“I never lie. And if I’d been in my right mind the other day, I would have known well and good that neither do you.” He brushed his cheek against hers, the move affectionate and intimate. “We’re the same like that, aren’t we, honey?”

When she didn’t respond, he turned her around. She was too upset to resist. “You’re going to make me go all the way, aren’t you?” Still cupping her waist in his hands, he slid down her body. She looked down, uncomprehending, her eyes only adjusted enough to make out his general shape in the darkness.