Silvia Day (10 page)

Lyssa arched a brow at her dream guy. “Something like that.”

“But sometimes you just have to go with your gut, right? Like now. You don’t remember me, but you’re pretty sure about me anyway.”

“No. The only thing I’m sure about is that I’m certifiable.”

Aidan closed his eyes and shook his head. Released from the snare of that intense gaze, Lyssa was able to look at the rest of his features more closely. His cheeks were flushed, his lips red. She touched his forehead with her inner wrist and detected fever.

“You’re burning up.”

“It’s not contagious,” he assured her, his eyes opening and his arms tightening when she tried to stand. “I’m just adjusting, I think.”

“To what? Let me up.” Wiggling, she broke free. “You should be in bed. We can reminisce about where we know each other from some other time.”

“I could really use a bed. I haven’t slept in two days.”

Lyssa stared at Aidan’s upturned face with wide eyes. “Long flight, huh? Do you need help finding a hotel?”

“The only thing I need is to be with you.” He sank into the sofa back and groaned. “I ache all over.”

“Shit.” What the hell was she supposed to do with him? “This is where I call the police, right?”

Hello? 911? The hottest man I’ve ever seen (also the best kisser and best-smelling guy ever) just accosted me and is now passed out on my—

She watched with mouth agape as JB crawled into Aidan’s lap and settled comfortably, nuzzling his gray and black head into her dream guy’s abdomen. Aidan lifted his hand and rubbed her cat behind the ears, even though he was obviously sick as a dog. The tender gesture made her feel all mushy inside.

“Please don’t,” he breathed, his head falling back. “You know me. You…me…you and I…” He yawned, and looked adorable. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to fall asleep like this. I’ve never felt this crappy in my life. And your couch is comfortable.”

“Yeah, well…Don’t mention it,” she said lamely. “But you should take something for that fever.” Before she knew what she was doing, Lyssa walked into the kitchen
and fetched a bottle of Tylenol. Her hands shook as she opened it.

Aidan.

She had known his name. Surely that meant she knew
him
. Why the hell couldn’t she remember?

The ringing of the phone caused her to jump and drop the bottle on the floor. Lucky for her, the childproof cap hung in there. She leaned over the sink and grabbed the receiver, glancing aside to see her guest fast asleep on her couch. The sight of him, so large and formidable, now sprawled and relaxed, made her sigh. Even wearing ill-fitting clothes, Aidan Cross made her mouth water.

“Dr. Bates,” she said in muted tones as she set the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Doc.” Stacey’s cheerful voice was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman. “I’m just reminding you that we’re opening late tomorrow, because of Justin’s birthday thing at school.”

“Gotcha. Thanks. I forgot. Again.” Lyssa rounded the breakfast bar and slid onto her customary stool so she could drink in Aidan’s dark good looks while he slept. “Stace?”

“Yeah?”

“Something weird is going on over here.”

“Hot monkey sex?”

Lyssa snorted. “Since when is hot monkey sex weird?”

“True.”

“Weird to me is when the doorbell rings and the most delicious man you’ve ever seen walks in, kisses you senseless, and then camps out on your couch.”

“Oh my god!”
Stacey squealed, forcing Lyssa to hold the
phone away from her ear. “Chad finally got you to let him spend the night?! Go, you! Or go, Chad!”

“Uh…no. It’s not Chad,” she whispered furiously, cupping her hand over her mouth and receiver.

The stunned silence on the other end made Lyssa wince.

“Wow…” Stacey gave a surprised little laugh. “No judgment here, but you know I’m dying of curiosity. Who’s the hunk on the couch?”

“Well…you see…That’s the thing. I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? Some unknown, good-looking guy came to your door, kissed you, and now he’s sitting on your couch? Yeah, that’s weird all right. I’m jealous. Shit like that never happens to me. Where’s my hunk delivery?”

Sighing, Lyssa looked at her notepad and froze, shocked to her toes to see Aidan’s smiling face staring back at her.
My god…

“All kidding aside, Doc,” Stacey whispered conspiratorially, as if Aidan might hear her. “Do you want me to call the cops? Or are you pulling my leg?”

Lyssa traced the drawn shape of the blatantly sensual lips she’d managed to capture so well. A childhood therapist had encouraged her to take art classes, saying the ability to commit her thoughts to paper might help her to remember her dreams and share them with her mother. It hadn’t worked for the purposes intended, but drawing was soothing to her, and she fell into the habit often.

“Lyssa? Is everything okay?”

“I feel like it is,” she said absently, her heart racing, making her feel dizzier than she already was. “I mean, common sense says no, but…”

“But
what
? You’re killing me!”

Sliding off the bar stool again, Lyssa straightened her shoulders. “Everything else says ’yes.’”

“Okay, listen. You take a picture of this guy and then hide your camera in your car. Stick a note in the bag with his name—Oh! Can you get his wallet?”

“Stacey!” Lyssa laughed. “I think he’s okay. Jelly Bean loves him.” She stared at the sofa, where JB slept in Aidan’s lap like an angel…

Are you an angel?

No, darling. I’m not.

“No way,” Stacey scoffed. “JB doesn’t like anyone, not even Justin, and everyone loves my kid.”

“He’s a great kid.” Suddenly Lyssa’s smile was genuine. Something inside her knew the man in her living room—and liked him. A lot. “I’m going to get off here, Stace. See you at ten?”

“I better. If you don’t show up to work, I’m coming over with the National Guard. What’s this guy’s name anyway?”

“Aidan Cross.”

“I like it! Sounds edible.”

“He is.” Lyssa rounded the counter and bent to pick up the Tylenol. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I’ll expect to hear everything, Doc.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye.” Hitting the off button, Lyssa set the handset on the granite top and filled a glass with chilled water dispensed through the fridge door. Then she moved to the living room and knelt on the floor next to the couch.

Leaning forward, she touched Aidan, unable to help
herself. She ran a hand through the short lock of hair that hung over his forehead, and his eyes fluttered open.

A soft smile curved his lips. “I’m glad to be here with you.”

“Charmer.” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. If it weren’t for the fierce intelligence in those dark sapphire eyes, she would think he might be a little touched in the head. Hot guys weren’t usually so sweet. “I bet you say that to all the ladies you barge in on.”

“I’ve never said that to anyone in my life, Hot Stuff.”

“Stop it. You’re making me sappy.”

The feeling of déjà vu struck her again.

“Promise me…” Aidan yawned while reaching for her hand. “Promise me you’ll eat something while I nap. And don’t fall asleep.”

Her brows arched. “No?”

He shook his head, his gaze intent on her face. “No. Stay awake until I get up.”

“Okay.” She cupped his cheek and felt his high temperature, just before he shivered violently. “But you have to promise to take these.”

Shaking two tablets out of the bottle and into her hand, Lyssa made him swallow them, despite his wince of displeasure, then she arranged him on the couch and covered him with her throw. JB moved up to his standard spot on the armrest with an irritated flick of his tail.

“Eat,” Aidan ordered. “No sleep.”

“I got it.”

Lyssa watched him fall into a fitful slumber, and studied his features for a long time after that. Then she made her
self a sandwich and sat at the dining table with her book about dreams and reincarnation.

And thought about love at first sight.

Burning.

As awareness took over, that was first thing that registered in Aidan’s mind. A scorching breeze moved over him, blistering his skin, drying his nostrils, cracking his lips. The air was fetid, filled with the stench of death and despair.

Opening his eyes, he found himself facing the Gateway, tied to a pole with his arms behind him. Nightmares poured out in endless, unchecked numbers. Around him, hundreds of voices shouted, casting blame at his feet for actions he couldn’t remember. He was alone except for the slender, golden-haired figure who reached for the door…

No!

Aidan jerked awake, startling JB, who screeched in alarm. His heart racing, it took him a moment to realize where he was. He ran both hands through his hair, wincing at the damp roots and his sticky skin.

Nightmares.

The bastards. He was no longer safe from them in his sleep. They dug deep into his mind, finding his fears and feeding on them. He felt drained and on edge at the same time.

Never having met his foe unguarded before, he felt violated. Wretched. His stomach heaved.

Seeking the only true solace he had ever known, Aidan turned his head toward the low drone of the TV and saw Lyssa at his side, seated on the floor. It was dark, the
blinds drawn, the only illumination coming from the flickering light of the television and the aquarium in the dining room. He reached for her, running his hand through the loose golden strands he loved. She moved, sliding slowly away, toward the floor…

…a dead weight.

The panic he’d recently retreated from flared anew, pounding through his blood until his heart was ready to explode. He leaped from the couch, barely catching her slumping body before it hit the floor.

“Lyssa!” He shook her violently. “Damn it, I told you to stay awake!”

Her eyelids fluttered, but her subconscious was already connected to the deadly Twilight.

The cry that tore from him was both desperate and inhuman. His nightmare wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

As icy shards tore into her flesh, Lyssa flailed in agony, her subconscious pulling free of the mechanical banging and insidious whispers that were tearing her mind apart. She gulped down a massive breath into tight lungs and opened her throat to scream. Instead, her mouth was covered, increasing her terror.

Struggling to breathe and desperate to evade the needles that struck her everywhere, she clawed at the unyielding arms that trapped and held her immobile.

Sucking in air through her nose, she smelled a scent that caused her eyes to fly open…

…and met darkly determined sapphire blue ones.

Panicked, she clung to the wet, hard body that held hers so rigidly. She gasped for breath, inhaling Aidan’s exhale as he swallowed her cries with the heat of his mouth.

Suddenly her surroundings became clear—the stone tile of her bathroom, the freezing spray from the showerhead behind her, the fully dressed form pressed so tightly to hers.
She ceased her struggles, sagging into him, so relieved to be in safe arms after the horror of only a moment before.

He tore his mouth away, breathing harshly, his embrace so tight that no water slipped between them. The feel of his chest was warm, a stark contrast to the river of melted ice water that coursed down her back.

“I-it’s c-cold,” she complained, circling his powerful upper back with her arms.

Turning, he took the brunt of the water from her, the tensing of his jaw the only sign of his discomfort. Lyssa attempted to step away, to free her arms to adjust the temperature, but he held fast.

“L-let me t-turn up the h-heat.”

It took him a long moment to do as she asked, as if he was reluctant to release her. Reaching around him, Lyssa turned the knob. The water began to heat, and steam rose around them. Then she chanced another look up. A tic in his jaw matched his formidable scowl.

“I told you not to fall asleep,” he bit out.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Her arms wrapped his waist in a vain effort to warm up. Aidan moved then, his hands catching the hem of her shirt and tugging upward. If he hadn’t looked so formidable, she might have protested his forwardness. Or she might not have…

“You scared the crap out of me,” he muttered, intensely focused on stripping her bare.

She moved with him, taking his silent commands, understanding by his forcefulness that he was a man who bore the weight of power and responsibility with unusual finesse. Despite how her wet clothes clung to her skin, he
had her undressed in no time at all. An expert. The absolute certainty that he undressed women often added to her sense of unrest.

“Yeah, well,” she began grumpily, “I got the crap scared out of me, too, so…mmpph—” She grunted as he tugged her into him and crushed her close. Her stiffened frame relaxed immediately, and she sank into his strength and the comfort he offered.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised gruffly. “Don’t be scared.”

She almost cried. Unlike everyone else in her life who told her what
she
had to do to make herself feel better—see the doctor, take more meds, eat healthier—Aidan took the burden completely from her. She gave it to him gladly.

“I had the worst nightmare,” she confided. “There was pounding and banging against metal, grinding and scratching, and this god-awful wailing sound.”

“You can’t just drift into sleep.” He gave her a little shake to emphasize his words. “You’ve got to fall hard and fast into it.”

Tilting her head back, she caught the torment in his gaze, amazed to realize he cared about her. More than casually. “
You
scare me, too.”

“No.” Aidan shook his head. “You trust me. You need me.”

“That’s what’s scary.” She felt safe with him, her fear unable to affect her when he was in her arms. That dependence on something so new was frightening. Could she trust something she didn’t comprehend?

His lips brushed across hers, firm and delicious, the taste of him lingering, teasing her already heightened senses.
Her tongue traced the curve of his lower lip, seeking more of it. The quiver of fear in her belly intensified, and then turned into something else.

He exhaled harshly and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, his hair dripping water down her cheek. The mood around them altered, the anxiety she felt turning into a very different kind of desperation.

His eyes slid closed, then he began to free the buttons of his shirt. She stepped backward and gaped as a deep, strangely familiar heat spread through her chilled limbs.

Stacey kept a Chippendales’ calendar on the wall at the clinic. Not one of the men displayed on those pages could hold a candle to Aidan Cross. He was solid rippling muscle. Every line, curve, and plane flexing with latent power and pure masculine grace. He was more lean than bulk. More sinew than bulging mass.

“Gorgeous,” she breathed, before she could turn her brain on enough to keep her mouth shut. Chad had never once made her feel this hunger. She hadn’t even known it was
possible
to crave someone like this.

The look Aidan gave her in response to her praise was scorching, needy. And unmistakable.

She wasn’t a slouch in the figure department, but Aidan was perfection in a way that unsettled her. There was something about him, a foreign quality that called to her, a sense of being…
more
. More beautiful, more intense, more sexually charged. More than a mere man, though she couldn’t see where that thought came from.
A god.

Suddenly shy, Lyssa turned slightly to the side.

When he caught her by the elbow and tugged her back around, she blinked in surprise.

“I’m looking at you,” he rumbled arrogantly.

She raised her brows. “Yeah, I’m looking at you, too.”

“Stop trying to hide.”

“Stop being so bossy.”

His gaze narrowed. Then he released her and reached for his belt. Thoughts of anything else were impossible when her brain was fully focused on him and the fact that he was about to be naked.

The end of the belt slapped against the wall when Aidan yanked it free. Despite the closed fly, the pants fell from his lean hips into a soggy puddle at his feet. Part of her brain wondered why his clothes were so damn big. The other part could care less, far more interested in the cock that curved upward to almost touch his belly button.

Her mouth went dry. Long, thick, and pulsing with veins, it was a wet dream come to life.

Where did you come from?

Your dreams.

And he was dripping wet and getting wetter. She giggled.

He leaned back and arched a brow, his mouth slightly raised in a half smile that urged her to cup his cheek. He was too arrogant and self-assured to take her momentary amusement as anything to do with the size of that impressive cock, and she loved him for it.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he said, tugging her closer again. Then he reached for the liquid soap, squirted some into his palm, and went to work. On
her
body.

She jerked in surprise when his slick hands cupped her breasts. He tried to look innocent, but with the mischievous gleam in his eyes, it didn’t work. Never one to back
down from a challenge, Lyssa scooped up a trail of bubbles from her tummy and grabbed his cock.

He arched a brow and washed between her legs.

She arched her own and tugged at his balls. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in response to how intimately and possessively he touched her. Aidan took note, adjusting his movements with unparalleled skill. There was none of the hesitation or silent query that other men displayed with a new partner. And she showed none with him, washing his cock and balls as if it was her right to do so.

Aidan laughed, the severity of his expression softening with obvious affection. “You’re a handful, Hot Stuff.”

“So are you.” She shot a pointed glance at her overflowing hands. “More than a handful.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, the tender gesture so at odds with the sinful way he stoked her desire. As he moved around her, running his hands all over her, her eyes slid closed on a sigh. Her blood was hot and sluggish, her mind lost in the sensual spell he wove so well. Low and deep within her, she ached, clenching in emptiness and expectation of what she knew was coming.

If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up. Never in her life had she known wanting like this, a need so intense she was panting with it, her knees weakening until he was forced to hold her upright with easy strength.

“Was it spring break in Cabo?” she asked breathlessly.

“Huh?” He pulled back to look down at her, revealing half-lidded eyes that couldn’t hide the burning lust within.

“When we met. Cabo San Lucas. That’s the last time I remember that I can’t remember.”

“Ah…I get it. No.” Catching her shoulders, he spun her away from him, and a moment later, his strong fingers were rubbing shampoo into her scalp.

She turned into a boneless puddle. He knew just how to touch her, kneading the tense muscles of her shoulders and stroking the length of her spine until all the anxiety of her nightmare washed down the drain. She felt the calluses on his palms and the strength he wielded with such care. When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her backward into the spray with him, she leaned against him with a trust she shouldn’t feel, but did.

“But we’ve had sex,” she persisted, shivering at the thought of what it must have been like. He was in no rush, taking his time, as if he had an eternity, as if time didn’t exist for him. If he took the same care when making love…

He licked the wet shell of her ear. “Something like that.”

Turning in his arms, Lyssa leaned her head back and met blue eyes fringed with thick, wet lashes. “Something like sex?”

“Yep. Wash me.” He thrust the bottle into her hands. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

She shook her head as she reached for the soap. She almost told him no, just to curb his arrogance, but she wanted to touch him. So much that her palms itched with the need.

With soap-slicked fingertips, she slid her palms across his chest, marveling at the feel of his skin stretched taut over muscles that were hard as stone. His eyes closed on a low groan, his hands cupping her hips, his head falling
back in a gesture of supplication that took her by surprise. Aidan was wallowing in her caresses, absorbing them, relishing every time she lingered in an especially susceptible spot.

It was riveting, the sight of so large and dangerous a man turned to putty in her hands. And he was dangerous, she knew. There was something in his eyes. They were ancient, wizened, jaded beyond his years. And something in the way he watched her, the way he moved, the note of command in every casual phrase. This man was never without his guard. Yet here he was. Bared to her in more than his appearance.

So she indulged, taking her time, washing his front from his head to his toes, then turning him and paying the same attention to his rear, which was just as magnificent.

When he faced her again, Lyssa positioned him beneath the spray and shifted her fingers through his hair, making sure every bit of shampoo was gone. She was so much shorter than he was, she had to lift onto her tippytoes to reach him. The loss of balance forced her to lean against him, her breasts to his chest. The hard, heavy length of his erect cock pressed into her stomach, but he made no move to take things further.

“I think I’m clean.” He stilled her roving hands with his own before pushing her gently away.

Lyssa bit her lower lip in embarrassment. Nodding her agreement, she pushed open the floating glass door and reached for the towel closest to her. She didn’t bother to dry herself. Instead she wrapped the towel beneath her arms and moved to the linen closet, taking out a fresh towel, which she thrust backward without turning her head.
She heard the knobs turn and the water stop.

“Now you don’t want to look at me?” he asked softly, his fingers curling around hers, sending sharp awareness up her arm.

She tugged free and moved toward the door, restless and edgy with confusion and unsatisfied arousal. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he had touched her so intimately, then pulled back. The hardness of his cock betrayed him, as did the dark hunger in his gaze, but he’d put on the brakes.

So why was he here at her house, driving her crazy, if he didn’t want to get laid?

“I’ll give you some privacy,” she muttered.

Her hand was reaching for the knob when Aidan caught her in a full-body embrace—his arms pinning hers, his bare chest behind her, his erection an unmistakable pressure against her lower back.

“Talk to me.” His lips were hot against her neck.

She shuddered with the force of her craving, her heart leaping into a mad rhythm.

“What’s the matter, Lyssa?” One arm crossed upward between her breasts, his biceps bulging beneath her gripping palms, his fingers angling her jaw toward his waiting mouth. He kissed her at the same moment he rolled his hips with practiced grace, inundating her from all sides with the feel of him.

“I was trying to save my sanity,” he whispered into her mouth, “not discourage you.”

Moaning, she spent the space of one breath resisting him, and then she gave in, her tongue meeting his, then chasing his, as he advanced and retreated with deep licks.

“More,” she demanded, her nails in his flesh.

His hand at her throat shook. “Not in here. Take me to your bed.”

“I’m not sure I can make it.” She writhed against him, stroking that thick, hard cock with the upper curve of her buttocks.

“It’s on the other side of the door.”

“Too far.”

He bent his knees, notching himself between the cheeks of her ass, and began to rub against her. His free hand touched her thigh, then slid up beneath her towel. A hungry sound vibrated against her back when he cupped her wet pussy.

“You’re so slick and hot,” he purred. “I could slide into your cunt from behind. Ride you hard, right here, just the way you like it. Just the way
I
like it.” His fingers mimicked the actions he described, slipping into her, pumping knuckle-deep and fast.