Asking For Trouble (18 page)

While Jazzie and Beau faced the elevator to
wait for the car, the agents faced outward scanning the people in
the lobby and watching the front entrance. When the elevator door
opened, they waited until Beau pushed her inside, then followed and
blocked her from view as the doors closed.

The whole entourage thing made Jazzie
uncomfortable. People stared at them as they had made their way
from the ER to the elevator like she was a rock star or dignitary
or something. All that was missing were her dark sunglasses and a
hat or a wig to complete the mysterious celebrity persona. As
careful and protective as Beau was being, she was surprised he
hadn't suggested just such a thing.

When they reached the third floor and the
door opened, he pushed her down the hall to Chase's room, then
kneed open the door and pushed her inside. Chase looked up when he
heard the door open and gave her a blinding white smile then said,
"Hey, darlin'...how're you feeling?"

"A lot better than you probably," she said
with a chuckle. "It's a good thing we both have hard heads! How's
your shoulder?"

He shrugged then flinched and said, "It
hurts like hell to get shot...thank god it was just a flesh wound.
If I hadn't slipped, that asshole would probably have hit me in the
chest."

"That was stupid of you to try and stop
him...but pretty damned heroic. Thanks for doing that," she told
him sincerely.

"My gun was under the shirt on the back of
the boat right where you landed," Beau told him with an edge to his
tone.

"Well, since I didn't know it was there, and
unconscious, I couldn't very well use it," Chase told him in a an
edgy voice Jazzie had never heard him use before. "If you hadn't
taken off like Flipper and left Jazzie
unprotected
, I
wouldn't have had to worry about it."

"I should have just fucking said no when
ya'll wanted to go out on the boat. That's where I made my
mistake," Beau replied, then told him, "Going to that lake house
was a bad idea to begin with."

"It wasn't a bad idea...how the hell do you
think they found her there anyway?" Chase asked him curiously.

"I have no idea, those guys are connected
and determined...that's why we need to get Jazzie somewhere safe,"
Beau told him then ran a hand through his hair.

Chase snorted, then said flippantly, "With
you protecting her again?"

Jazzie saw Beau's flinch, then his face
turned red enough to be a beacon on a light tower, and his eyes
filled with guilt.

"That's enough!" Jazzie shouted then pushed
up on the armrests of the wheelchair to stand and put her hands on
her hips. "You two need to stop this shit now! Chase, thank you for
trying
to save me, and Beau thank you for
actually
saving me! Chase, you were unconscious, so you have no idea what
happened, you're way off base blaming Beau. This shouda, woulda,
coulda blame game is not helping anything!"

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when
you're mad, sugar?" Chase asked her with a laugh and a twinkle in
his eye. He shook his head then told her, "You're beautiful when
you're not mad too, but when you're mad--
wow
."

Beau growled and stepped between her and
Chase and pointed at him, then hissed, "You keep your fucking eyes
and hands to yourself asshole...she's
mine
!"

Disbelief and then happiness surged through
Jazzie, because that was as close to a declaration as she'd heard
from Beau...but it still didn't mean he wanted her for more than
sex.

"I think Jazzie would have some say in that,
and I haven't heard that from her sweet lips...
dickwad
,"
Chase replied snarkily.

Oh, god, Jazzie thought, the last thing she
needed was for Beau and Chase to get in a fight over her, with
Chase hurt and in a hospital bed, no less. She stepped around Beau
and faced him, then put her hand on his chest, then hissed, "Stop
it,
now
!"

When she was sure he wasn't going to lunge
for Chase, she removed her hand then took a step toward the bed and
leaned over to kiss Chase's cheek. "Be good and they might let you
out of here too," she said with a grin then added sincerely, "I'm
sorry you got hurt...thanks for everything."

"You're welcome, sugar...you take care of
yourself, and let me know if you need anything. Since the feds are
working on your case now, and they have Frankie in custody, I don't
guess you'll need Dave and his crew anymore?"

Jazzie stepped back from him stunned.
Sucking in a shuddering breath she repeated, "They have Frankie in
custody?"

"That's what I heard," he said and looked
over her shoulder at Beau.

Rounding on Beau, Jazzie put her finger in
his chest, and demanded, "They found Frankie and you didn't
tell
me?!?!"

Beau shrugged, then said defensively, "I
just found out this afternoon when I talked to Glen Baker at the
lake...you were unconscious and hurt, then they brought you here,
and I haven't had a chance to tell you." He dragged his eyes from
hers and shot Chase a heated glare.

"Where's he at?" Jazzie asked
breathlessly.

"A safe house..." Beau replied vaguely.

"The same one I'm going to?" she asked
hopefully, excited that her brother was safe and she might actually
get to see him.

"I don't know...the feds set it up. I'll ask
Glen if that's possible," Beau told her, then added, "He's meeting
us downstairs to take you to the safe house."

Jazzie gasped and felt the blood leave her
face, "You're not going with me?"

Fear rose up inside of her causing her
breathing to shallow, and her heart skipped around erratically in
her chest. She trusted Beau to keep her safe, because she
thought
he cared about her to some extent. The feds cared
about their case, not about her or her brother.

He took her shoulders in his hands and
looked down into her eyes. "I can't...I've got some things to take
care of," Beau told her mysteriously.

"What kind of things?" she demanded,
wondering if one of those things was the gorgeous Dr. Anderson.
Jealousy knifed through her and her blood chilled at the
thought.

"I need to go to Bowie and talk to my
brother and sister," Beau told her.

"And I can't go with you...go to the safe
house with you after you talk to them?" Jazzie was desperate to
stay with him.

'No--you need to go with Glen now. I can't
be worried about you, while I'm trying to set things up," he said
firmly and glanced at Chase again.

"Set what up?" she asked getting frustrated
that she was having to drag every answer out of him like a horse
out of quicksand.

Beau huffed out a breath then told her, "I
can't go into that with you, I'm sorry." Beau looked at the clock
on the wall and frowned. "We need to go Jazzie..."

Jazzie could tell he was in cop mode, and
she wasn't going to get anything else out of this cold, distracted
stranger standing beside her. "Fine," she said then leaned over and
gave Chase a kiss on the lips, and patted his chest then said,
"Bye, sugar...you get better, and I'll talk to you soon."

"Like hell you will," Beau growled then
grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest. He looked down at her
angrily, then told her, "Quit playing games, Jazzie, they're
getting old. Sit your ass down, and let me push you out of
here."

The heat from Beau's anger rolled off of him
in waves, his body almost vibrated with it. His fingers dug into
her arm, and branded her skin, and his green eyes were almost
emerald and sparkled dangerously. All of that combined made for one
potent package of maleness that had Jazzie squirming in her scrub
pants. Jazzie could almost smell the testosterone pumping through
him, and she pressed herself a little closer to him trying to
absorb some of that energy.

All that had happened to her day made her
appreciate being alive. The adrenaline and fear that had consumed
her earlier, balled inside of her and had to find an outlet. The
vibrations coming from Beau's body told her he was just as keyed up
as she was. Maybe they could help each other, she thought.

She crooked her finger and he leaned down so
she could whisper in his ear. "Are you as turned on as I am? Find
us a broom closet, I don't care...I want you inside of me now," she
whispered very quietly, then licked his earlobe. If their
relationship was going to be all about sex, Jazzie figured she
might as well make use of it.

Jazzie turned back toward Chase and gave him
a tight smile. "I'll see you later," she told him with a wink, then
walked to the door, her bare feet slapping against the cold
tile.

The next move was up to Beau...if he
followed her great, if he didn't...she'd probably go back in there
and drag him out by his hair. Jazzie needed some relief, a release,
and Beau could give her that. All the recent events piled up on top
of her; her almost kidnapping then brush with death at the lake,
finding out that Frankie was safe, meeting Beau's amazing
ex-fiancé, and then his anger.

Mixed with the heady remnants of adrenaline
and fear that still pumped through her veins, Jazzie had reached
her limit.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Beau's feet seemed glued to the floor of
Chase's hospital room, as he watched Jazzie sashay out of the room,
after she delivered her stunning sexual request. His breathing had
stopped, but all his other body parts were definitely in full
swing. His brain had slipped into neutral, but slammed into
overdrive once she disappeared through the door.

Without a word to Chase Rhodes, Beau forced
his feet to move forward and took off after Jazzie. A broom closet
huh? They might not make it to a broom closet the way Beau was
feeling right now.

Beau had had enough of the taunting from
that spicy little hellion. She'd thrown down the gauntlet, and now
she was going to pay the piper...him. No more teasing, no more
taunting, and no more fucking flirting with Chase Rhodes to
aggravate him. Her games were finished, and he was about to teach
her a lesson and get some relief from the rampant desire that he'd
been holding back for a week.

He found her standing by the elevator
waiting for the car, and grabbed her arm then pulled her around the
corner to the door of the emergency stairwell. Shoving it open, he
dragged her inside, then pushed her up against the wall and slammed
his mouth over hers. He jerked her braid and tilted her head back
to deepen the kiss. Jazzie gasped and he shoved his tongue in her
mouth and kissed her roughly, grinding his hips against hers,
trying to find some relief from the insistent ache she'd caused him
to walk around with for a week.

When she moaned, Beau jerked her thigh up to
his waist slid his hand over the fleshy globe of her round ass.
Beau wanted to plant his palm there a few times to show her he
wasn't going to put up with her teasing anymore, but there wasn't
enough room. Instead, he lifted her and positioned himself, so he
was nestled at the apex of her thighs in just the right place, then
rotated his hips. He fought a wave of dizziness, as his heart rate
spiked and all the blood left his head going places south.

Jazzie mewled and dug her fingers into his
shoulders, and she sucked in short, sharp breaths. He slid his palm
up her side to her breast and flicked his thumb over her nipple,
then jammed himself against her, and she let out a long moan, then
started to tremble against him. On the edge of an orgasm himself,
Beau dragged in a few deep breaths and fought it off, holding her
tight. When her tremors ceased, he eased her down his body, until
her feet touched the floor.

Beau expected her to be wrung out, wasted,
and just slump against him, but she didn't. Her hands went on a
journey over his body, under his shirt and across his chest then
back down. There was a desperate quality to her stroking, and it
was setting fires inside of him that only one thing would
extinguish. When she reached the waistband of his shorts, he put
his hands over hers and stopped them, then sucked in a long
shuddering breath, and told her in a tortured voice, "That's
enough, baby...we need to stop."

"Oh, hell no, we don't," she hissed, then
pulled her hand from under his and shoved it inside his shorts. Her
small, soft hand closed around him and he threw back his head and
moaned. When she stroked him, Beau thrust his hips against her hand
and about lost it.

Jazzie pushed his shorts down to expose him
and then dropped to her knees.

Beau's breathing stopped, when she placed a
gentle kiss at the top of his erection. His heart almost joined his
lungs when her tongue swept out and circled him. With a moan, he
put his hands on either side of her head and held her to him. She
sucked the top of his erection into her mouth, then swirled her
tongue, and Beau gasped, "Good, god, Jazzie..."

Moving in rhythm, Jazzie timed the movements
of her mouth with her small hand perfectly, and pleasure radiated
through his body from where her warm, wet mouth was on him. He
groaned and closed his eyes when she reached between his legs and
cupped him, then hastened the pace of her mouth. Shots of
electricity darted through his body, and Beau felt an incredible
climax building and tried to pull her away. "I can't hold on,
baby...move."