Chapter 3
After drying her hands on a white hand towel Angelique hung it back up on the rack beside the sink and then leaned over it to examine herself in the small medicine cabinet mirror. She had dark circles under her eyes and her dark brown locks that were normally satiny smooth were a mess. Worse yet, she didn't even have a brush to comb out the tangles.
Tears began to well up in her eyes and threatened to escape. Sniffing she grabbed a few tissues and dabbed at her eyes. For what seemed like the millionth time since she’d been arrested for Nathan's murder, she wondered how her life had gone so wrong. Why had she been framed? Why her of all people? For that matter why murder Nathan at all? Nathan had been in advertising, in a lower level position within the company and didn't have an enemy that she was aware of; everyone liked him. It made no sense.
And she'd gotten nowhere in her search for answers in an attempt to clear her name. Now she was being carted back to Denver where she'd be convicted and sent to prison, possibly for the remainder of her life.
"You alright?"
Angelique jumped at the sound of Lincoln knocking at the bathroom door. She sighed, but didn't answer.
"If you don't answer I'm coming in." His voice was stern, and she knew it wasn't an idle threat.
"Yeah." She sniffed, took a deep breath in and exhaled. Dabbing her eyes once more she nodded at her reflection. She looked as good as she was going to under the circumstances. Not that it mattered anyhow. Who did she have to impress with her looks? Lincoln? She huffed at the thought. Sure, he was attractive enough, with his large, muscular build and those piercing grey eyes. Hell, he even had a touch of a sense of humour. She sensed he was actually a pretty nice guy and in a different situation she could have seen herself falling hard for him. In a different situation. But she was a bail jumper and it was his job to turn her in - end of story.
"Angelique?"
"Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute!" Angelique yelled through the closed door. Tossing the tissues in the waste basket, she opened the door and brushed past him, avoiding eye contact at all costs for fear he'd be able to sense her vulnerability if he looked into her eyes at that moment.
Angelique started to shrug off her jacket when an intense cramp gripped her shoulders and lower neck. She groaned softly, winced and froze in place, waiting for the pain to subside.
"What's the matter?" Lincoln asked, stepping up behind her. The smell of his spicy cologne assaulted her nostrils and she hated that she liked it and she hated that it made her long to fall back into his strong arms.
"Cramp," she grumbled, "What do you care anyway?"
She heard him exhale loudly and felt his warm breath against her neck. She shivered and moaned once more, out loud without meaning to. Thankfully, because of the sudden pain she was in he mistook her moan as one of pain, not yearning.
"Damn, let me help you." Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he grabbed the jacket by the lapels and slipped it off her shoulders and down her arms. His hands brushed her bare arms as the skin was revealed and she felt another soft tremor run through her.
"Thanks." She pulled away from him, trying to settle the feelings he was stirring inside of her. Feelings that she hadn't felt for anyone since Nathan; even with Nathan the attraction was nothing like what she was experiencing now.
"Yeah."
As she settled herself on the bed she watched him hang up her jacket beside his, cross the room and then disappear into the bathroom. Moments later, she heard the sound of the bathtub filling with water and huffed. She never took Lincoln as a bath kind of guy. Wonder if he'll make use of the bubble bath the motel provided. She grinned at the thought of him submerged in a tub full of fruity smelling bubbles as she kicked off her sneakers and lay back onto the bed. Closing her eyes she winced as the muscles in her shoulders and neck pinched.
"Come on."
Huh? Her eyes sprung open to see him standing next to the bed, his hand extended.
"Come on. I ran a hot bath for you. It'll help relax the muscles." When she didn't respond straight away he added, "Besides, I found you holed up in a dumpster, I think you could use a little soap."
"Jackass," she grumbled under her breath.
A chuckle from him told her that he'd heard and didn't seem the least bit offended.
She would have refused the bath, but her muscles were so cramped she knew he was right, it would help, and she had just been concerned over the state of her hair. Ignoring his offer to help her to her feet, she slid from the bed and headed for the bathroom. At the entrance she turned back to him, eyes narrowed. "And just so you know, I'm taking the bath because I want to, not because you're telling me to." Without another word she entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Stripping down was a little more difficult than she'd hoped. The jeans were easy enough, but the tank top, was a bitch to pull over her head. She winced and grunted her way through the process tossing the shirt in a pile on top of the jeans.
She stepped into the tub and sank into the warm water to which Lincoln had added bubbles. The sweet aroma of roses filled the air and for the first time that day she actually felt herself relaxing. If she hadn't been so determined to dislike him, then maybe she would have considered the bubble bath a thoughtful gesture.
****
Something was bothering Lincoln about her case. He had a hard and fast rule to never, ever get involved with the case. He always read the rap sheet on the bail jumpers to familiarize himself with their situation, and more importantly the personality of the person he was going after in an effort to prepare himself for the person he was going to be encountering, but that was the extent of it.
But something in his gut was telling him there was something off about her case. They had the murder weapon, a knife from the kitchen with her fingerprints on it. Of course, considering she was engaged to the victim, the prints were easy enough to explain. They had her clothing which was covered in his blood. The clothing was found in a duffle bag in the trunk of her car and there was an eye witness who had seen her rushing from her fiancé’s house the night of the murder. Those two things alone were substantial and combined with a suave prosecutor at the helm of the case, would be enough to put her away despite there not being a motive.
"So am I interesting reading?"
Lincoln jumped at the sound of her voice. He'd been so wrapped in his own thoughts he hadn't even heard her exit the bathroom or pad her way barefoot over to him. Looking up at her, his heart stopped beating for a moment and a lump caught in his throat.
His eyes slowly worked their way up the length of her body, beginning at her bare feet and travelling up the length of her. She had short, yet nicely-toned bare legs and just as his eyes reached the upper portion of her upper thighs a small white towel, wrapped tightly around her body blocked his view.
The towel was tucked in at the side of her breast and he had to fight the urge to reach out and give it a tug so his eyes could take in the rest of her beautiful naked body, which was currently glistening from the water as the drops slithered their way down her curves. His cock immediately went on the alert, rapidly growing within his jeans.
"Would you like me to remove the towel so you can get a better look?"
Realizing that he was still staring, currently at the swell of her breasts that peeped out from under the towel, he gave his head a shake along with an incoherent part-grunt, part-growl. "Yeah. No. Just..." Glancing back down at the file in his lap he closed it up and thrust it into his duffle bag.
Turning from him she walked over to the bags of clothing he'd bought for her, bent over and began rummaging through them. He glanced over at her once more and groaned as his cock twitched, watching the towel ride up higher than before. If she bent over just a fraction of an inch more she'd be exposing that sweet little pussy to him.
Thoughts of whether she was shaved or trimmed came to mind. Was she as tight as a virgin's unused pussy? Did she whimper and moan softly when she got fucked or was she a screamer? What positions did she like?
Oh, for the love of God!
He needed out of there - badly. A quick jog to relieve some of his pent up anxiety, but he couldn't leave her. Nope, he was stuck having to suffer with the relentless throbbing in his pants. "Did the bath help?"
She straightened up and groaned a soft anguished groan. "Not really. And there is nothing in there for me to wear tonight. It's all jeans and tight t-shirts."
He was tempted to suggest the naked option, but restrained himself. Digging into his duffle bag, he pulled out one of his t-shirts and a pair of plaid boxers. "They'll be a little big, but you can use them."
Giving him a relieved smile she walked over and took the clothing from his outstretched hand. Again, she winced from the movement. "Thanks."
"Don't get dressed yet, just go lie on the bed," he ordered, digging into his bag once more and producing a bottle of massage oil.
Crossing her arms over her chest she raised a curious eyebrow at him, a smirk touching her lips. Her eyes darted to the bottle. "Lots of lonely nights, Lincoln?"
Lincoln pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips; a headache was forming along the front of his forehead. It was beginning to throb almost as much as his dick inside his pants was. Almost.
"Look. I can work out the cramp if you let me."
She continued to glare at him.
Waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to place the oil back into his bag.
"Wait!"
Straightening back up, he turned back to her, catching her gaze.
"Alright." She relented and made her way over to the bed, laying flat on her stomach her arms at her side. "Fine, just do it."
Chuckling to himself, he made his way over to the bed, but didn't sit. Not yet. "Manners never hurt anyone, you know."
"Are you serious?" She turned her head so her blue eyes caught his grey ones as she shot him a dirty glare. "You're the one that did this to me!"
"Forget it then," he turned from her and took a step back towards the duffle bag.
"Alright, fine. Please."
Pleased with his second small win with her, he turned back to Angelique and sat down on the bed next to her. Flipping the top he squirted about a tablespoon of oil on his palms and rubbed his hands together, warming the oil. His eyes swept the length of her back, hesitating on her round, firm rear under the towel. Another shot of desire rushed through him and he realized it had been way too long since he'd last been laid. What had it been.... six months? Eight? Fuck! A year! Too damned long, that much was for sure.
Brushing her hair to the side, Lincoln exposed the creamy ivory skin of her neck. He squirted another small amount of lube to her back and began to rub it in, before beginning to work the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Her skin was smooth and soft under his fingers as he worked the tight knots out of her muscles. It was as he suspected, more stress and anxiety related than from the position she been in during their drive, though he doubted being hunched over like she had been had helped matters.
She moaned softly and his dick hardened at the soft, sensual sound, but he pushed the desires flaring up within him to the back of his mind, or at least attempted to.
"How did you get so good at that?"
He laughed and felt his face flush slightly. "Well, believe it or not I was a masseuse when I was younger."
"What? Are you serious? You?" She attempted to turn to look at him, but with his hands planted firmly on her shoulders he kept her pinned against the mattress.
"Why not me?"
"Well, it's just...'
Laughing harder he shook his head. "Hey, well I was eighteen, horny as hell and what better job than to get paid to caress women's bodies."
She laughed with him, a soft sweet sound that he loved hearing. "You're lying."
"Afraid not."
"So how did that work out for you?"
Done with her shoulders and neck, he moved lower, pushing the towel down an inch to work on her back. "Well, the problem was they expected you to work on men as well. Big hairy men; ape men."
"Ewww. I see your point. Too bad." A fresh series of giggles overtook her until his fingers hit another sensitive point and she another moan escaped her lips sending his dick into a frenzy once again.
****
Angelique knew she should be stopping his hands as they inched lower and yet lower still down her back, but the feeling was too good to stop. At least not yet. His hands caressed, stroked, and were turning her body into a raging inferno of need. She tried to refrain from moaning too loudly, scared that he might stop so she bit her lip and continued to bask in his expert touch.
With her shoulders and arms now relaxed and free from the painful cramps that they'd been suffering from, she folded her arms under her chin and closed her eyes. Once he made it mid-way down her back where the top of the towel now was, he hesitated.
"Don't stop," she prompted, though in the back of her mind she knew she should have thanked him and gotten dressed. When he continued to hesitate, she took a deep breath in, and boldly untied the towel and slid it from her body, leaving her naked before his eyes. "Please."
He continued to hesitate, the palms of his hands planted on her back. "Angelique, I don't think I should." His voice was thick, his words broken, his desire evident.
Her heartbeat accelerated. He was right. This wasn't the best idea. He did what he set out to do. But dammit, she wanted more. Considering in a few days she'd be sitting in a jail cell, why shouldn't she allow herself the luxury of this man’s touch?
"It's okay."
She heard him sigh and then remove his hands from her body. She was about to protest when she heard the top of the bottle being flipped open. Seconds later his hands, oiled up once again, were on her body moving to her lower back. He kneaded and pressed, working her muscles and making her body sing out for him. The closer his hands came to her bottom, the stronger the pulsing between her legs became.
"Your body is stunning, Angelique."
A smile touched her lips, but she said nothing for fear of him stopping. Once he reached her ass, he hesitated once more and she sighed. One of his palms gently grazed her ass cheek coming excruciatingly close to her pussy. Her body was so on edge that if he happened to even slip his fingers between her legs she'd come instantly, she knew this without a doubt. She held her breath waiting and then instantly his hands were gone and he was standing.
"You're good now... Right." It was a statement, rather than a question.
Angelique groaned inwardly as she heard him walk to the other side of the room, presumably to toss the oil back into his bag.
"Lincoln?" She frowned and turned onto her side, not bothering to cover back up.
"Angelique, we can't." He kept his back to her, opened the curtain and, with his stance stiff, he stared out into the parking lot.
"It's okay. I want to. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but... Don't you want me?"
Lincoln sighed loudly. "It's not a matter of wanting to. It's a matter of not getting involved. I have a job to do, Angelique and if something happens... something like..." he ran a shaky hand through his hair; "...like that, then I won't want to do what I have to. I'm sorry."
"Fine!" The sting of rejection shot though her. Sliding from the bed, she grabbed the clothing he'd given her of his and quickly put it on. It smelt like him, spicy and very masculine, taunting her, reminding her of how much she wanted him and how he'd turned her down.
His stance stiffened further. "Angelique, I-"
With the boxers on now she slipped the t-shirt over her head. "You can turn around now."
"Angelique, please."
"I'm going to bed now." she marched over to the bed and slipped under the covers. "I'd offer to share, but I wouldn't want you to get attached to me or anything!" She gave the pillow a few violent strikes with her fist before settling her head down on it and closing her eyes.
"Angelique."
"What!" Her eyes shot open and her sapphire blue eyes glared at him.
"I have to cuff you."
"Fuck you! I'll be damned if I'll allow you to cuff me to this bed."
His grey eyes turned stormy as he began to strip down to his boxer briefs. Angelique's eyes wandered over his body, easily one of the most magnificent bodies she'd ever seen on a man. His chest and shoulders were muscular - powerful, his torso lean and his massive cock bulged against his boxers.
"Oh no." Indignation rose up within her. "You had your chance Lincoln and you blew it!"
"I wouldn't now if you begged me, woman." Grabbing the cuffs from the table by the door he slapped one onto his wrist as he strode over to the light switch and turned it off. The room went dark, but light from the outside streetlight shone in from the crack he left in the curtains, giving enough light to see his outline. He stalked his way in the dark over to the bed.
Angelique looked up at him questioningly, as he slid in beside her and grabbed her wrist roughly.
"Ouch! Take it easy. What do you think you're doing?" She tried to tear her wrist from his hand, but his grip was iron tight.
"Well, if you don't want to be chained to the bed... fine by me." He slapped the other cuff on her wrist.
"I can't sleep chained to you!" She pulled at the cuff, but it refused to budge. "You're serious?"
His eyes caught hers and he nodded giving her a slight smirk. "You bet I am. There's no way in hell, I'm letting you run off in the middle of the night." Giving her a final nod he lay flat on his back and closed his eyes. "Better get to sleep, sweetheart, we have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow."
Feeing angry, insulted and sexually frustrated Angelique huffed as she flopped back down beside him and groaned. What a day!