Keep Me Closer (A Dangerous Tides Novel) Page 6

  “Running? I said I’d protect her.”

  “Not from this situation. I’m talking about running from your emotions.”

  “I’m done with this shit,” he snapped, suddenly moving to his feet. “Ben, I’ll call you in the morning with an update. But don’t bother contacting Smith.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Alex turned and got the hell out of there, thankful that Mike knew better than to come after him. He spent the rest of the morning and afternoon working on a few cases that he had in the works, then eventually made his way back to the McNamara Clinic. His mood had turned from foul to deadly as the day wore on, the conversation with Mike making his teeth grind every time he thought about it. Which had been often.

  Nodding a hello to Brit’s receptionist, who he’d been introduced to that morning, he took a seat in the upscale waiting area and pulled out his phone. He had about an hour before he reckoned Brit would be ready to head home, and figured he could use the time to read through some e-mail. He started glancing through a report a cop out in Arizona had sent him regarding one of his current cases, but couldn’t seem to give it his full attention, his gaze repeatedly cutting toward the doc’s office door, waiting for it to open.

  Jesus, he hadn’t been this uptight about a woman since Judith, and God only knew that couldn’t be a good sign.

  Hell, it was more like a sign of the freaking apocalypse.

  For a long time after his divorce, Alex had carried his wounds inside, where they were crusty and deep, seething with rage, eating at him like a cancer. But they hadn’t been invisible. His family had seen them. Even when he’d been trying to numb the pain by drowning himself in liquor, they’d known. But they’d never understood. They’d thought he was heartbroken. Hurting because of the wreck of his marriage. But that hadn’t been it. Any feelings he’d ever held for Judith had been killed the moment he’d found her taking it up the ass from one of the other detectives in his department. The speed with which those feelings had died had been a testament to just how shallow his connection with her had been. Or maybe by that time the connection had simply eroded, broken down after the months of arguing about every aspect of their life together because there didn’t seem to be anything else to say to each other.

  So, yeah, it was pretty clear to him that a broken heart hadn’t been why he’d lost himself at the bottom of a bottle.

  Still, the emotion driving him to self-destruct had been strong, as well as violent, and it’d nearly killed him. He didn’t need to be making any more mistakes that were going to land him in that same shit pile. Which was why he’d been living in survival mode ever since. He might want Brit Cramer so badly he could taste it, but even if it turned out that she felt the same—and that was a huge if—there was no way he could give a woman like her what she deserved. He’d locked down parts of himself so tightly, the need could no longer sink beneath his skin. It simply remained surface and physical. A desire to nail her fine ass until his body was used and spent and drained. Until he’d slaked himself in her, drowning himself in hours of hard, raw, relentless fucking. Then he’d be done and move on, as cold inside as ever.

  Mike might think differently. But Mike didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Because there were some things that could never be thawed, no matter how much heat they were exposed to.

  Just then, the door to her office opened and she came out with a middle-aged woman and a little girl. The little girl turned and gave the doc a quick hug, burying her face against her middle, and he watched as Brit ruffled the child’s golden curls and gave her a gentle smile. The moment clicked in his mind like a lock breaking open on a vault, and he knew in an instant that all he’d been doing was spouting a bunch of bullshit. He wasn’t going to keep his hands off the doc because he didn’t have enough to offer a woman like her. He was going to do it because Mike was right—this was goddamn self-preservation. He was afraid. Scared shitless, actually, that his lust for this woman wouldn’t be so easily satisfied if he tried. And all he could think about was trying.

  Damn it, he never should have kissed her. Never should have given himself that brief taste, because it was screwing with his head. Jacking him up. If he didn’t take the edge off, there was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. Or his tongue. Or his dick. And that was a scenario that would only lead to trouble.

  Kissing the woman had cranked him up higher than any of the one-night stands he’d had in a long time. God only knew what fucking her would do. Going down on her. If her pussy was anywhere near as soft and sweet as her mouth, he wouldn’t be able to get his head out from between her thighs. He’d end up staying there forever, wallowing in that juicy secret flesh, licking her, eating her, swallowing her hot girl juice down his throat until he was full of it.

  And forever was something he did not, and would not, ever do. It didn’t matter how incredible her little cunt tasted. Or how good it felt wrapped around his dick. It wasn’t ever going to happen, which meant he needed to do the right thing, and do it now. Tonight. Before it was too damn late.

  Pulling up a new screen on his phone, Alex scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he wanted.

  “Hey, Alex,” chirped a cheerful voice that immediately grated on his nerves. “What’s up?”

  Dropping his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and forced himself to ask the question burning in his throat.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  4

  AFTER A LONG, STRESSFUL DAY OF WORRYING ABOUT SHEPHERD AND working with her patients, Brit had grabbed a glass of wine and headed up to the guest room to soak in a hot bath. Afterward, she’d put on music while sorting through her things, picking out her clothes for the next day, then stretched out on the bed and watched a show on the TV set that Alex had moved to her room, trying not to wonder about what he was doing downstairs. They’d seemed to be acting on some unspoken truce from the moment they’d left her office that afternoon. He’d given her an update on the search for Shepherd, she’d told him she hadn’t heard anything new from him, and they’d stopped by the store. She hadn’t felt like eating when they’d arrived at the condo, and he’d taken his dinner back to his office, leaving her on her own.

  It’d been a dull evening all the way around, but she knew it was for the best. The less they had to do with each other, the better it would be for her emotions. She needed to be careful, because she could all too easily see herself making more out of his determination to protect her than it really was. She’d spoken to Reese on her cell for only a few minutes that day, but it’d been enough to realize that Alex hadn’t thought there was anything to Ben’s worries about Shepherd. He’d been watching her with a great deal of reluctance, and no doubt didn’t like that he’d been wrong. So he was most likely only trying to right what his alpha male mind saw as a mistake. It had nothing to do with her, specifically, and she’d be smart to remember it.

  So then why did it bother her so much?

  And why was it so much freaking easier to look at other people’s problems than to delve into her own troubled psyche?

  Though she had an outgoing personality with her friends and coworkers, Brit had never found it easy to just be herself with a man she was attracted to. She wasn’t shy with men, but then neither was she brazen. She just . . . she just always felt as if they saw her surface and nothing more. As if they watched her mouth, thinking about what she might eventually do with it, never really listening to what she was saying. The feeling had started in junior high, when she’d begun to develop, and had become worse as time went on.

  That was the odd thing about Alex. Even when he’d been trying hard to give the impression he was ignoring her, she’d often had the feeling that he’d been secretly listening, studying her, trying to figure her out. He might not want to get involved with her, or even like her all that much, but it was intensely seductive, knowing there was some part of him
that was drawn to her. Even if it was a draw he didn’t want. One that had sent him into hiding for the night.

  To say that the guy had baggage would be putting it lightly. It sucked, but she didn’t blame him for it. Like she’d told him on the parking deck after he’d rescued her from Shepherd, her anger toward Alex Hudson came from the way he’d been so against Ben and Reese’s relationship. Not anything that he’d done to her personally—except for the shitty things he’d said to her that night on Ryder and Lily’s patio. But, hell, as much as his words that night had stung, she could chalk them up to a bad mood and stress. She didn’t plan to go around carrying a grudge about them. The slap across the face she’d given him that night had been enough to soothe her raw feelings.

  But where did that leave her now? Was she going to ignore him? Try to build a friendship with him? Would a friendship even be possible, when she wanted him so badly?

  She didn’t have the answers, and as tired as she was, she wasn’t going to find them tonight. Now that the wine was gone and it was getting late, all she wanted was a bottle of water from the kitchen before she headed to bed.

  As she made her way down the stairs and across the living room, Brit wondered if Alex was still working in his office. She was trying to decide if she should go back and say good night, when a noise outside the sliding glass doors made her jump. Swinging her gaze in that direction, she blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing. Alex was outside . . . and he wasn’t alone.

  Oh, shit.

  She reeled back like she’d just been shoved hard in the chest, wishing she could look away, but her damn eyeballs were glued onto the scene with a hold she couldn’t seem to break. It was like goddamn emotional superglue. Painful and completely indestructible.

  Alex was standing on his patio facing her, shirtless, barefoot, the faded pair of jeans he’d changed into when he’d gotten home hanging around his thighs, while a tiny blonde knelt on the ground before him, between his tall body and the glass. He had his dick in the woman’s mouth, but he didn’t appear to be that into it. His head was tilted back a bit, eyes closed, and he looked kind of . . . bored. Maybe a little tired. Even frustrated.

  His lips moved with what looked like a soundless curse, and he shifted position, leaning forward to brace his hands against the glass, his abs rippling with movement as he fucked the woman’s mouth. Brit realized she must have just made some kind of sound, because his head suddenly shot up, his pale gaze immediately locking hard with hers. Her heart jolted, and her pulse roared in her ears. She felt the connection crackle between them with startling force, same as it always did . . . even when another woman was sucking him off.

  He scowled as his gaze drilled into her, then reached down with one hand, as if he was going to pull the woman off. But the blonde wasn’t having it. She gripped his hips with both hands and started bobbing her head enthusiastically, obviously giving it everything she had. His ferocious scowl deepened, the cords in his neck visible as he clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. He held Brit’s gaze the entire time, and she watched as sexual heat finally filled his piercing stare. His chest started to heave, lips parting for his ragged breaths. The bastard was going to come down that skank’s throat while he was visually locked onto her, and she felt a wave of nausea roll through her.

  Damn it. No matter how badly she wanted to deny it, this hurt. It fucking sucked!

  Disgusted with him, and with herself for just standing there and watching, Brit was only seconds away from jerking herself out of the magnetic hold he had on her . . . and running away. But then his face tightened as if he was in pain, the big hands he’d pressed against the glass again curling into fists, and she knew he was coming. He kept his dark, heavy-lidded gaze locked on her the entire time, and she crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly determined to wait and see what he would do when it was over. What his next move in this strange tableau would be.

  She didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he could, he jerked back, looking down at the woman as he said something to her that Brit couldn’t hear. The blonde’s shoulders dropped in a gesture of disappointment, but she didn’t slap his face when she moved to her feet. Instead, she leaned up on her toes and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, then let herself out through his patio gate, all without ever noticing that Brit was inside, watching the entire thing. The woman hadn’t even noticed that Alex’s attention was focused on someone else, and not on her.

  But it was. It had been, from the moment he’d realized Brit was standing there.

  He stood alone now in the muted glow of the outside light, jeans hanging below his hips, giving Brit a clear shot of his heavy testicles and his still erect dick. And, God, was it a sight. Why couldn’t he have a tiny prick? Some sad, shriveled-up little thing? But no, he had to be as breathtaking there as he was everywhere else. Dense, dark hair curled around the thick root, and it was a view of pure masculine perfection, the shaft long and broad, the dark skin crisscrossed with heavy veins, the head fat and plum-sized. She’d never, ever, in all of her thirty-one years thought of a guy’s cock as being beautiful before, but Alex’s was. Somewhat brutal and intimidating, yes. But definitely beautiful.

  She swallowed the lump of lust in her throat, her breath quickening, and all she could think was, He’s standing there with his junk hanging out and I really want to kill him. But I want to jump on him, too. And I hate myself for feeling this way. I need to despise him, damn it. For what he’s done, I need to detest the freaking sight of him.

  Was it an irrational reaction? Probably. There was no commitment between them. None whatsoever. All they’d ever shared was a kiss. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

  As she watched him pull up his jeans, partially buttoning the fly, then reach over and open the door, she had a startling rush of clarity. In that moment, she knew exactly what this had been. What Alex had been trying to achieve. And it’d worked. She wouldn’t be making another mistake like she’d made that morning. No more kissing him back if he put his mouth on hers. No more . . . anything. She would talk to Ben when he got home about finding someone else who could provide security for her, and then she would put Alex Hudson out of her mind. For good.

  The energy in the room actually changed as he stepped inside, her skin prickling with physical awareness, making her shiver. He closed the door behind him, locked it, then turned to face her. When she realized she was staring at the dark happy trail that led south from his navel, disappearing into the open top of his fly, she jerked her traitorous gaze back to his face, cursing her damn hormones.

  He lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his neck, then finally ended the uncomfortable, silent stare down. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you came down. I had to . . . talk to a neighbor.”

  “Oh, really?” Brit couldn’t help but give a brittle laugh as she slowly arched a brow. “Is that what you call it? Talking?”

  He grunted, then pressed his sensual lips into a flat line.

  “You know, Alex, you could have just gone to her place. Spared me the disgusting picture show.”

  “I didn’t want to leave you here alone.” His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath, his jaw rigid. “And I thought you’d gone to bed. I didn’t ask you to watch.”

  “No, but you didn’t try to be discreet, either.”

  Another grunt. And it was seriously starting to get on her nerves.

  In what was undoubtedly a childish attempt to pluck at his own nerves, she asked, “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t exactly enjoy that little sexual episode?”

  His gaze went flinty and cold, the rasp in his deep voice giving it a raw edge. “Be a bitch if you need to. But don’t play shrink on me, Doc.”

  Brit smirked. “It wasn’t a professional observation,” she said lightly. “It was a female one.”

  He was starting to look pissed. “I came, didn’t I?”

  “You ejaculated. But that
wasn’t a climax. There wasn’t any real pleasure involved in it for you.”

  “And you stuck around to the bitter end, didn’t you?” This time he was the one with the sardonic smile on his lips. “You get off on watching?”

  She debated with herself for several seconds, and then decided what the hell? She might as well give him an honest answer. It wasn’t like anything would come of it, considering he’d just shot his load down another woman’s throat. “I liked watching you. You’re a prick, but any woman who says you aren’t nice scenery is lying. So was that meant to teach me a lesson, Alex? Put me in my place?”

  Shoving a hand back through his short hair, he cursed under his breath. But the only explanation he gave her was a gritty, “I’ve had a shit week.”

  “Yeah, well, mine’s been just peachy.”

  His eyes slid closed as he pulled in another deep breath, then his lashes lifted as he slowly exhaled. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. And she took that as her cue to go.

  “I just hope she was worth it,” she tossed back at him, turning on her heel.

  “Brit, wait!”

  She looked over her shoulder. “What?”

  For the first time since the awkward as hell conversation had started, there was a flush of color burning across the tops of his cheekbones. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I swear. I just needed to . . . take the edge off.”

  With a sharp smile, she said, “And any willing mouth would do, huh?”

  She could have sworn he flicked a dark look at her own lips, before scrubbing his hands over his face. “Something like that.”

  Needing to get away from not only him, but also the entire depressing situation, she looked ahead and started walking away.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, when she started up the stairs.

  “To bed,” she replied in a low voice, feeling his hard gaze follow her every step of the way. When she finally had the bedroom door closed behind her, she flipped the lock and threw herself on the bed. Rubbing at the center of her chest, she wondered why she was such a fool, actually hurting over what she’d seen when she knew he didn’t want her. She was just being overly emotional, because of everything that was going on in her life. But the longer she gave herself the pep talk, the deeper the pain in her chest kept digging.