Closer (6 page)

Read Closer Online

Authors: Sarah Greyson

It hit him then. He’d actually slept all night without booze. What this woman could do for him! She was the balm to his blistering burn. He felt calm in her presence. He had slept through the night with her orgasm fresh on his mind. This was the first good night’s rest he’d had since his college days. He needed her. There were no longer any doubts. Now, he just had to make her see it too.

“Time to get up, sleepy head,” he said.

She smiled. “I thought it was all just a dream,” she confessed.

“What? That someone wants to kidnap you?” he retorted.

“No. That you were here,” she whispered.

He was definitely making progress. “I am here, Emma. You better get used to it,” he bantered.

Her eyes met his and they held each other’s gaze for what felt like the briefest of seconds. It wasn’t awkward like she thought it was going to be. He was still here; he still wanted to protect her.

She got out of bed. God, after the night she had, she must look a wreck. She had to rectify the situation. She shuffled her way into the bathroom telling Michael she was going to take a shower. Great, now Michael got to imagine the way the water pebbled and beaded down her body. He wanted to lick the water from her bare breasts. He was hard again just thinking about her. She was no ordinary woman. He would have been able to resist an ordinary woman. He hungered for Emma, for her touch, her taste, her moans.

She exited the shower dressed in her robe. She ran a brush through her hair, which she let lay loosely around her shoulders. She put her glasses on and brushed her teeth.

She found Michael in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee. “What do you take in your coffee?” he asked her, opening the fridge to get out the milk for his cup.

“Cream and sugar please,” she responded shyly. Why was she feeling shy around him all of the sudden? This morning in her room she was bold, but now she felt self-conscious in front of him. He fixed her coffee and handed it to her across the kitchen bar where she sat on the same stool she’d sat on the night before. He came to her side, turning her around so she was facing him.

Just like last night, he leaned in between her legs, but this time he took her mouth in a possessive kiss, which had her parting her lips to allow him access. She didn’t know where this “trusting her gut” would take her, but she sure was enjoying the feel of being his, even if it was just for the moment. Her robe loosened in the front to reveal the swell of her ripe breasts. Michael pulled back from the kiss to admire the sight before him. With her hair dried and wavy against her shoulders, her glasses perched at the bottom of her nose, her robe open in the front revealing perfectly large breasts, he couldn’t help himself. He found his hand tracing the edges of her robe, dipping his calloused fingers lower onto the swell of her bosom. He lightly fingered her breasts. A moan escaped her lips and his erection pushed harder against his pants straining the zipper until he was afraid it would bust. He pushed further into her, recapturing her mouth. This time his kiss was demanding. She gave as good as she got, kissing him back, equally fervent. Her hands wandered their way under his shirt to trace the outline of his rock-hard abs.
Was this really happening?
She ran her hands under his shirt up to his chest. This time it was he who moaned at the contact. He pulled her to the edge of her seat and pushed up against her center. She could feel his attraction through his pants pressed against her body. He picked her up like a petite thing and placed her on the kitchen table. He removed her robe from the rest of her body so it laid open at her sides. A Renoir, that’s what she looked like, a fine work of art; a masterpiece made just for him, her hips and stomach soft to his calloused touch. Running the tips of his fingers over her body, he stroked up and down her thighs paying careful attention to her hips. How he loved her hips. She was aching at her very center. Her body wanted him. She wanted him. She wasn’t going to deny her feelings any longer regardless of what was causing them.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the kitchen table.

“Lose the shirt,” she demanded defying her mind. He complied, tearing the shirt over his head to stand in front of her in all of his sex-god goodness. She ran her eyes over his perfectly formed six-pack abs and followed the V which led to his holy land; a land she would surely worship. He leaned over and kissed her ever so reverently, paying homage to her body, to her being. He was falling for this smart, courageous, woman he was getting to know. Her earth scent mixed with his musky scent to form an aroma uniquely theirs. He could hear his heart beat in his ears as she lay bare before him, and he still had on his pants. He would remedy that problem really quickly. He left her laying on top of the kitchen table, her body bared to him as he pulled away from her touch, away from her lips and stood. This time he turned slightly around and bent to remove his boots. She devoured the even sexier V his back muscles formed. He made quick work of removing his pants and throwing them on the growing pile of clothes. He was just about to remove his boxer briefs when his cell phone rang. He contemplated not answering. However, as it was probably information he needed to formulate a plan to protect her, he had to get it. If he did his job, and if he kept her safe, he could have her to himself later. He bent down and kissed her hard and quick. Then he went to dig into his pants pocket for his phone.

Pulling it out, he spoke curtly, “Yeah?” as he walked into the living room.

She sat up suddenly again feeling deprived, the way she felt after coming last night. How had she come to like him so much, under the circumstances, in so little time? Clearly her head was not in the game. She realized she was led solely by her body. She got off of the table and readjusted her robe. She tightly tied the belt around her waist and sat back down at the bar stool.
What was she going to do? She had to come up with a plan
. She poured her and Michael a fresh cup of coffee. He sipped at hers and went back into her head.

He reentered the room in just his boxer briefs, made his way over to the pile of clothing and started dressing. She watched under hooded eyes. Truth be told, she was still wet from the earlier contact. She really should get dressed herself. She made her way off of the bar stool and began to walk past him into the living room to reach the stairs. He grabbed her by the arm and turned her around to face him.

“Where are you going?” he asked pulling her closer to him.

“I am going to get dressed. I have been in this robe long enough,” she responded.

“Just so you know,” he whispered his breath on her lips, “we are nowhere near finished.”

She shivered at his promise.

She returned to the living room fully dressed in a new pair of jeans and a turtle-neck sweater, one that hugged all the curves of her body. She sat next to Michael on the couch.

“That was my employer, the real kidnapper. His name is Ahmed El-Amin, and he has a heavy Algerian accent, so I can only conclude he works for the GIA.” Michael continued, “I am to drop you off at a warehouse in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I told him it is a two-day drive from here. He said he would be there waiting for your arrival. I plan to make the drop.” She looked up at him with a sadness that touched his heart.

“I am not leaving you with him for God’s sake,” he admonished. “When we get there, I will take him instead. Then I will interrogate him for information about his cell.”

“You really think you can get him to tell you that type of information? I thought they were all martyrs willing to die for their cause,” she questioned.

“Who said anything about killing him? I will just make him wish he were dead,” he choked on the laugh which escaped his throat.

She wondered why he would take such pleasure in hurting another person. “What could possibly be so funny?” she asked.

“I have a plan. I know exactly what I am going to do to the man who wants to take you from me,” he said.

Did she just hear him right? Take her from him?

“I am going to protect you,” he continued. “After we get the information we need, I will make a few phone calls to Homeland Security, and they can stop this cell in its tracks.” A logical plan, one her brain could follow. She liked that.

“Go. Pack a bag. We will be gone a week max. Pack as light as you can. One bag, okay?” he asked. She started to go do as he bid, but before she could, he pulled her back down to him and moved his face quickly into hers.

His lips were a hair’s breath away from hers when he whispered, “I promise on my life, nothing will happen to you. I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?

She looked into his eyes and without a moment’s thought replied, “Yes.”

He kissed her again tenderly. Taking his hand and wrapping it roughly in the back of her hair to tilt her face against his, he pulled her closer. With her lips parted, he took advantage and continued his exploration of her mouth. Their tongues met and danced a lover’s dance. They were both breathing heavy. She could feel her heartbeat pounding out a lover’s rhythm against her chest. She wrapped her hands around his neck and, although it was hardly possible, pulled him closer to her. Picking her up, he placed her on his lap. She smiled through their kiss. She would never grow tired of him tossing her around like she was light as a feather. She could feel how much he wanted her against her derriere. And her delectable ass did nothing but make his cock ache for release. Relinquishing her hair, he grabbed hold of her hips rocking them back and forth over his cock to try and get some satisfaction.

How long could he wait to have her? She seemed willing enough. Still he did not want to rush her. Well, yes he did, he thought, but he wasn’t going to. After all, they both had a two-day drive ahead of them. He hesitatingly pulled back taking care to grind her hips into his bulging cock once more for good measure. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t going to.

She stood up and reached out her hand. Placing his hand in hers and following her upstairs to the bedroom was hard for him because he knew he would not get any relief from his dripping erection. In the top of her closet she found her duffle bag, which she began filling with essentials. It was a good thing she never wore makeup she thought as she exited the bathroom with her toiletries. He sat on the corner of her unmade bed. Her limbs moved like a graceful ballet dancer and that enthralled him. Once again, he found himself imagining her body under his responding to his ministrations. The smell of lavender filled the room; it smelled like her. As if in a tense wartime situation, he had to take several deep breaths, holding them in the pit of his stomach before releasing his pent-up frustration into the air, effectively calming his mind. They had to get on the road.

After she had finished packing her bag, a groan escaped her lips. She tried to quickly cover it with a cough, but it was too late, Michael heard her.

“What’s wrong, Emma?” he asked.

How could she answer that question? She didn’t want to leave the safety of her home when he was in it. She wanted him naked, on top of her. She didn’t want to drive two days to meet a terrorist. She didn’t want to talk to Homeland Security and risk jeopardizing her project that basically defined who she was. Her project meant everything to her; to risk it was unacceptable. Maybe it was just the situation, but he was mentally stimulating her and she was chemically attracted to him. She burned with longing to feel his hands on her bare body. Mostly, she didn’t want to leave his presence. After this was over, he would leave. Sure they would have sex, but he would leave and go back to his life before her. She couldn’t let her heart get involved. She needed to remain in her head.

Determined, she got up. She put on pink socks and her brown Ugg boots. She had style that came naturally. She stepped into the bathroom and pulled her hair back into a loose chignon, pieces falling, framing her face. Squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush, she quickly brushed her teeth.

She walked back into the bedroom and was once again met by his grin that spread ear to ear. She admired the way he looked in his long sleeve Henley t-shirt. She admired the way the shirt showed off the muscles in his back forming a V.

In the living room he retrieved his boots. He carried them into her breakfast nook and sat at the table.

“Do we have time for one more cup of coffee? I usually drink two before I start my day,” she asked as she refilled the mugs from earlier.

“We don’t have much time,” he said as he stood.

Walking over to him, her arm outstretched, she handed him a cup remembering to add the cream, just the way he liked it. He took it with a smile and a wink. She blushed.
This was just silly. She was being silly. She had to get a grip on her emotions
.

They drank their coffee smiling at each other to pass the time. Walking over to her, he grabbed her coffee mug and placed both mugs in the sink. Then he turned the coffee pot off.

“We need to get going,” he said as he picked up his bag.

She put her coat on and buttoned it up. “I’m ready,” she responded. They had to get this over with so they both could get back to their lives.

“We’ll take my Jeep. It’s parked at the bottom of the hill. You wait here while I go get it,” he commanded as she sat his bag back on the floor. Not more than five minutes later he was walking back into her house and reaching for her bag.

“I can get it,” she huffed at him trying to take the bag back from his grasp.

“Don’t even think about it, pretty lady. My mama raised a gentleman,” he winked and went out the door.

She took one look around her house consciously aware things may go wrong and she may never see her cabin again. She closed the door and locked it up nice and tight. Walking over to the jeep, she was greeted with his smile.

“Aren’t you nervous?” she asked as she climbed in the front seat and pulled the door shut.

He put the car in reverse to turn around and answered, “Nope. This is what I do. And I was trained by and worked with the best.” He was pretty sure of himself. Of course, that was something she admired about him, his sexy confidence.

Other books

You and I, Me and You by MaryJanice Davidson
The Double Comfort Safari Club by Alexander Mccall Smith
02. The Shadow Dancers by Jack L. Chalker
Fatal Decree by Griffin, H. Terrell
Mount! by Jilly Cooper