Wound Up (15 page)

Grace shifted to rest her cheek against his chest and over his heart. “That’s a nice way to say, ‘Hey, sorry you grew up in the slums.’”

Justin held her, let her breathe for a few minutes as he ran his fingers through her hair and laid small kisses to any part of her he could reach without moving her. Finally, when her breathing calmed, he took her shoulders and helped her sit up. “I have to get Cass’s keys back to her. I’ll drop them off and call a cab, okay?”

“The bus would be cheaper.”

“It would, but a cab is far more private. You’ve been crying and people are rudely curious. They’d stare. It’s also why I’m asking you to stay out here while I go inside. I don’t want anyone asking you questions you don’t want to answer.”

Wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him in for the sweetest kiss. “Thank you. I never knew my knight in shining armor would show up not on a horse but in a black and yellow.”

Justin smiled. “There’s the woman I...recognize.” Fighting to regain his equilibrium, he hopped off the tailgate. “Sit tight.”

It took every ounce of control not to sprint into the bar. He compromised by jogging. Quickly.

Once inside, he found Eric and Cass at the table. “Where’s Levi?”

Eric jerked his chin to the right. “Playing pool with a leggy blonde. Never thought I’d say this, but I doubt he’s going to go home with her. Something’s going on with him. He’s acting strange.”

Loyalty made Justin want to dig into it and help out. Love made him hand the keys over and say, “I’m taking Grace to my place tonight. Do
not
comment, my friend,” he interjected when Eric opened his mouth. “It’s not like that. She needs someplace quiet.”

Cass’s brows drew together. “Everything okay?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It will be.”

“We won’t push,” Eric said as he took Cass’s hand. “We’ve been there, we understand how hard it can be to sort out priorities and shit at the beginning of a relationship.”

“I love her,” Justin blurted. “And I have
no
idea why I just told you that.”

Cass reached over with her free hand and squeezed Justin’s wrist. “Because love, as grand as it is, can be a burden. And sometimes you just need someone else to help carry the load.”

His throat tightened and he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Take my car if you want a ride.” Eric began to dig in his pocket for his keys.

“That would be great.” He accepted the proffered key fob and stared at it until he was able to harness his emotions. “Thanks. I’ll return it tomorrow, first thing.”

“He can stay with me and we’ll commute together, so keep it as long as necessary.” Cass looked at Eric. “I just gave away your car, babe. Sorry.”

Eric grinned softly. “Would’ve done it myself, but you beat me to it.” He nodded to Justin. “Go.”

“Yeah.” Spinning on his heel, Justin strode to the door, outside and straight to the truck.

Life was waiting.

15

J
USTIN
TOSSED
HER
BAG
in the back of a modest sedan before handing Grace into the passenger seat as if she’d been made of superfine porcelain. “Eric’s car. No black and yellow tonight.”

“Did you say anything? About me?” The last thing she wanted were his friends believing she was as fragile as she felt.

“Only that I was taking you to my place. Let ’em infer what they will.” He started the car and glanced over. “That okay with you?”

“Better than the alternative.”

His brow had creased. “What do you mean?”

“Telling them that you managed to ask the one question I couldn’t answer without falling apart.” She sighed. “Not true. None of this is your fault.” And just when she thought she was out of tears, her chest tightened. “I don’t want them to assume—”

“They won’t,” he interjected, the severity of his words harsh enough to stem further conversation, so she let it go.

The ride to his apartment was comforting in that it was absolutely silent. Justin seemed to realize Grace didn’t want to talk and for that she was grateful. Honestly, she couldn’t look at him and be ungrateful about much of anything. He’d hurt her, yes. But she accepted that he was truly sorry for his words. He wouldn’t fake the level of sincerity he’d shown tonight. Justin wasn’t that kind of man.

They approached his complex with much less desperation than they’d approached the hotel Saturday night. No racing to the curb, or racing from the car, or racing to the room. Following the earlier emotional purge, it seemed almost anticlimactic. She was so lethargic her limbs felt as if they’d been cast in concrete. The light from oncoming traffic made her eyes burn. Leaning her head against the headrest, she let her mind go where it would.

She was peripherally surprised fear no longer owned her. Left in its wake was a muted sense of acceptance, a realization that she had made the irrevocable break from the life she’d led until the moment she’d come apart. Putting herself together again would happen more slowly as she figured out who she wanted to be.

She didn’t open her eyes when Justin stroked her hair. Instead, she blindly held out a hand. He took what she offered, holding it tenderly. That was so representative of who he was, that he would wordlessly cradle the piece of her she offered. How had it taken her so long to realize what a remarkable man he was? How had she been so blind where he was concerned?

“My place is on the second floor. I have no idea how quiet it is on the weekends. I’ve only had it a few weeks and it’s...Spartan? That might be an understatement. But I finally bought a bed and I—”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she whispered. “But I do want you to know I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” He pulled into the parking garage.

“I was so hard on you.”

He took the first spot they came to, shutting the car off before shifting in his seat to face her. “What happened before? I own that. I was an ass. Period. You deserved,
deserve
, better than that. I intend to see you get it.” He took her hand and held it over her heart. “From me.”

“I have to say this.” She swallowed that ever-familiar swell of emotion that made her breath come short. “What you said to me Saturday night? It hit every hot button I had. But now I feel like I have a clean slate—no past disappointments, no current expectations, no future dreams.”

“That will change.” He curled his fingers around hers and squeezed gently. “I promise.”

She tried to smile but was sure simply it came off as a tired best effort. “Is that a promise from Justin Maxwell or Dr. Justin Maxwell?”

“Both.” Leaning across the console, he unbuckled her seat belt. “Hang tight.” He hopped out of the car and came to her door, helping her out.

When he bent low as if to pick her up, she backed up a step. “You can’t carry me into the lobby.”

He met her gaze and grinned. “Just picking up your bag, Ms. Cooper.”

A faint blush warmed her cheeks. “Fair enough. Remind me to tip you when we get to the room. I won five bucks off a chump earlier.”

Justin snorted. “He’ll never hear the end of that. I promise.”

Leaning on him for support, she let him lead her across the street, through the lobby and into the elevator. Memories of their first elevator ride together warmed her. He’d held her bag then, too.

When the elevator announced their arrival at the second floor, Justin guided her out. He made to open the door and froze, looking at her with almost bashful chagrin.

“What?” she asked, swaying with exhaustion when he took his arm away to adjust his hold on her bag.

Rolling his shoulders, he took a deep breath. “It’s a one-bedroom apartment. I’m not so presumptuous as to believe we’d sleep together tonight, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

She leaned one shoulder against the door frame. “I never assumed you’d drop me off and leave, and getting another hotel room isn’t practical.”

“It’s important to me for you to really get that I only want what’s in your best interest.”

Again with that sincerity.
She was too tired to think. Large capable hands wrapped around her upper arm, jolting her awake. Blinking rapidly, she gave a rueful smile. “I’ve got to lie down.”

“Yeah, you should.” He opened the door and helped her inside.

They entered through a tiny kitchen and went straight to an equally tiny bedroom. There were no furnishings save for the bed. Sinking onto the foot of the mattress, she watched him deposit her things in the closet before facing her. “You’re going to be okay, Grace.”

“I hope so.” She sighed, the whoosh of breath shaky and shallow.

“You will. You’re strong and smart and resilient. You’re clearly a survivor. You’re also a damn good agent to have if I ever go pro at thumb wrestling.” He came to her then, pulling her heels off and setting them aside. Kneeling at her feet, he looked up, blue eyes clear. “How much help do you want getting ready for bed?”

“I could probably use your help getting undressed. My fingers aren’t working quite right at the moment.”

He sucked in a breath but instead of commenting, simply set to divesting her of her shirt and jeans before hesitating. “Did you bring pajamas?”

“I have no idea what I brought. I’m sure the clothes I wore today are in there because I changed on my way to the bar. There might be a couple other work outfits and a couple of T-shirts.” She glanced up, mildly mortified. “I may have forgotten to include underwear for tomorrow.”

His mouth opened and closed, but no sound escaped until he cleared his throat. “I’m not even sure what to do with that.”

She smiled, this time more genuine than earlier. “I’ll go to the nearest T.J. Maxx after work tomorrow.”

“Fair enough.” He dropped his gaze to the floor and ran a hand behind his neck, pulling hard enough his muscles shook. “So...no pajamas.”

“No pajamas,” she whispered.

“Grace, I can’t... That is... Shit.” He stood and spun away from her, leaning both hands against the nearest wall. “I can’t help but be wickedly aroused. I’m a freaking lecher for reacting like this now of all times, but my body refuses to behave.”

“Come here.”

“I’m sorry, I simply can’t get it to stand down—”

Mustering the last of her energy, she snapped, “Justin.”

He gave her his profile but wouldn’t face her. “What?”

“Come. Here.” She patted the space beside her. “I’m cold.”

The way he moved toward her, as if she might explode, amused her. The bulge in the front of his pants? She wished like mad she had the ability to take care of it. She was just so damn tired. He stopped in front of her, pulled his shirt over his head and gave it to her. It was warm and smelled of him, but she was so mesmerized by his hard body all she could do was hold the shirt in her limp hands.

“Help me up?” she asked. He did, pulling her to her feet. “Thanks.” She turned, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “Would you please unhook my bra?”

Trembling fingers brushed over her skin, her nerves igniting every time he touched her.

“Sweet bleeding hell,” he murmured when she let her bra fall to the floor and then kicked her underwear away.

She shrugged into the shirt, inhaling his scent off the fabric. “I’m cold, I’m more exhausted than I’ve ever been and I want to sleep for days, but not alone. Will you hold me?”

“Yeah.” His one-word answer was so choked she would have laughed in almost any other situation.

He moved around her, folding the covers back on one side of the bed, and helped her in. Then he lay down on top of the comforter.

“What in the world are you doing?” she asked through a yawn.

“I was going to hold you until you fell asleep then move to the floor.”

“I want to be held, Justin.
Held.
Ditch however many clothes you’re comfortable with and crawl in.”

Without a word, he rose and stripped in seconds. All the way to the skin. Folding down the covers on his side of the bed, he slid in and rolled toward her, pulling her into his arms and adjusting their positions until he was comfortably spooning her.

The last thing she remembered was him slipping one arm under her head and the other around her waist, snaking his hand between her breasts and hooking it over her far shoulder. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

Then the world disappeared.

* * *

J
USTIN
LAY
AWAKE
for two days. At least it
felt
like two days. It was probably only two hours. He held Grace close to his chest, listening to her breathe, feeling her heart beat beneath his wrist. The arm lying under her head began to go numb. Oh well. The pins and needles would suck in the morning, but they’d be worth every bit of discomfort because they meant he’d held her.

Nuzzling her hair, he was thrilled when she moved but less thrilled with
how
she moved. She snuggled even closer, the shirt riding up so that her bare backside rubbed against his aching shaft. Yeah, he’d been hard since he took off her shoes. Not a proud moment, that. Guilt had screamed at him to get himself under control, but he hadn’t been able to even remotely deter the single-minded other piece of him that was shouting, “Yay! Naked Grace!” And now, every time he moved away from her, she followed his retreat so they were still pressed together.

This was going to be the longest night of his life.

She wiggled a little, getting comfortable, and he couldn’t contain the soft hiss that escaped. “Get a grip, Maxwell.”

“Justin?”

He stilled. “Yeah?”

“It’s okay you’re poking me in the back, but you’ve got to stop squirming.”

He laughed softly, moving to prop himself up on one arm so he looked down at her. “Might help if you weren’t so damn beautiful.”

“You’re biased. I wowed you with my Monopoly references and you were mine.” Her sleepy voice was still infused with humor.

“You’re right. If memory serves, you got to be every piece, too, didn’t you? That’s what you wanted.”

She slid one hand behind her to trace random patterns on the bare skin of his hip. “We may have forgotten one.”

“That’s criminal,” he murmured into her hair.

“‘Go to jail and don’t pass Go’ is probably more appropriate.”

He bent lower and kissed her bare shoulder. “Forget the $200. I look really bad in orange. We’ll have to make a Monopoly date soon to rectify our mistake.”

“But this is your bed. It should be the Monopoly mecca.”

His cock kicked, thumping her lower back like a sledgehammer.

“See? Your body agrees.”

“Grace...you have to sleep, baby. I’ll survive one—”
long, miserable, impossible, never-ending
“—night. Holding you is enough for now.”

“But it’s not everything you want,” she whispered, sliding her hand down to brush the edge of one testicle.

He shivered hard enough to shake the little bed. “I’m trying to be as much a gentleman about this as a naked man can be.”

“Seize the moment, Justin.” Her hand continued to explore until she reached the root of his cock. She wrapped her hand around his base and gently squeezed.

He groaned and thrust into her grip. “Don’t do that again.”

She stilled. “Why not?”

“I was trying reverse psychology. For a doctor, I suck at it.”

Her laughter was its own reward. When she squeezed him again, though, and began to stroke? He might as well have won the jackpot. Any jackpot.

Letting go, she wiggled and rolled over until they faced each other in the alarm clock’s pale illumination. Her skin was ethereal, almost translucent in the artificial light. Her hair was spread across the pillow and she’d pulled the sheet down to her waist. She licked her lips with exacting slowness.

“You’re killing me,” he murmured softly, stroking her hair away from her temple and tucking it behind her ear.

“Definitely not my intent. I want you.”

The admission was so quiet he was sure he must have misunderstood. “You want me.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I do.” Reaching up, she pulled his face toward her and kissed him, her lips a whisper across his. “I really do.”

The second kiss, firmer than the first, began to unravel him. Hell, who was he trying to kid? He’d been coming undone since she walked into his life.

Scooping her up, he rolled over on his back and settled her knees on either side of him. Her bare sex rode the ridge of his erection as he pulled her forward to claim her mouth with searing authority. In a clash of heat and sweet sounds of desire, he took her higher with that kiss. One hand roamed over every inch of bare skin he could touch while the other fisted her hair and refused to let her break the kiss to come up for air. Not that she tried. But exercising control over her did wicked things to him.

His hips surged off the bed when she ground against him, her heat like a brand. It labeled him hers, now and always.

Her soft mewl said as much as her hips did. She was hungry for him. Almost as hungry as he was for her. Almost. He just couldn’t believe she could possibly want him as much as he did her, love him as much as he loved her. He’d have to bring her around to accepting his love, but that was for another time. This was about the now, just as she’d said.