He was out of his fucking mind! Becca refused to move, even when he tried to push her into the room. How dare he? He’d promised her own bed. She turned on him, fury blazing, her finger stabbing him in the chest.
“What the hell, Dimitri? What happened to a queen room?”
“I tried to get one, I swear I did, but they didn’t have one. They said if one became available they’d hold it for me, but the place is booked, Becca. There are no other rooms.”
“Then I’m finding another fucking hotel!”
She turned and stalked into the room, ignoring everything, and headed straight for the bathroom.
“There are no other fucking hotels,” he shouted through the door. “Stop acting like a two-year-old. It’s not like I’m going to fuck you.”
Her head dropped, hitting the door. What the hell was she going to do?
Dimitri stared at the closed door, aggravated with both Becca and himself. He knew she was going to go ballistic when she found out he’d lied, but he had tried. It wasn’t his fault this place was booked, as well as every other fucking hotel within five miles.
The knock at the door brought him up short. He’d been about to barge in on her and demand…what, he didn’t know, but he was glad of the diversion. He might have kissed her. It had been on his mind since he’d felt her shudder earlier and had been even harder to ignore when she’d slid down his body. God, he needed to find something to take his mind off his dick.
The mountain of boxes that greeted him shocked him out of his sexual frustration. How much shit did she order? He moved back so they could enter. Two luggage carts full of boxes, followed by another with the small suitcases they’d both packed. He tipped the staff then stood marveling at the massive amount of work ahead of him.
She was right about one thing; he wouldn’t be sightseeing tomorrow. No, he’d be soaking his hand in an ice bath. She expected him to sign all this tonight?
“Becca!”
When she didn’t answer, he stomped over to the door and pounded on it. “Becca, get your ass out here. You ordered all this, and you’re damn well going to help me instead of hiding in the bathroom.”
“I am not hiding!”
“Yeah, sweetheart, you are, but we can talk about that later. Right now, we need to sort this shit.” They would definitely be discussing what happened out in the parking lot later. Or maybe they shouldn’t. He kept yo-yoing with the idea that Becca was attracted to him. He knew better than to let his thoughts wander there, but his dick kept taking them right back to the danger zone. As much as he valued Becca’s friendship, he’d never been good at resisting temptation.
The door cracked open and her big brown eyes snapped fire at him. He couldn’t stop the grin from overtaking his face, which only pissed her off further.
“No. I’m not helping you. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m going to bed. You can just fuck off, Dimitri Kincaid.” She stalked over to the luggage cart, grabbed her suitcase, and stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face.
Well, hell. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do?
The shower turned on, and he sank down on the bed. He should probably apologize. He hadn’t meant to make her think he was laughing at her hiding in the bathroom. He’d been smiling at her behavior, yes, but only about how it made him feel. She always managed to drive away the darkness eating at him. Her smile lifted him in ways nothing else did. She’d wiped out his earlier frustration with that smile, and now she was in there thinking he was making fun of her.
Dammit.
For a romance writer, he was pretty much screwing this up.
Not that he wanted to romance her.
She was his best friend. It was taboo.
He only wished his dick would come to that conclusion.
Listening to the water run, it brought back his earlier fantasy of her in the shower, and he groaned, his dick laughing at him. The fucker needed to shut up, but thoughts of her all wet and naked egged the little bastard on. If he slipped his hand in to give himself some relief, chances were she’d walk out and catch him in the act. Try explaining that one to her. She’d risk the airport to go home.
He was fucked.
Giving up, he stood, his legs protesting, and went back into the small room. They’d also delivered a complimentary bottle of champagne, a custom with every guest. Nice touch. He grabbed the bottle and two glasses before opening the terrace doors. She’d come out when she was ready, and not before.
He sat in the first chair he came to and looked out over the city, all lit up. It was beautiful. He could smell the saltiness of the ocean. Maybe he could convince her to take a walk on the beach later, when no one would be out. Becca always wanted to see the ocean, and he wanted to be the one to show it to her.
Popping the cork, he poured himself some champagne. It wasn’t too bad. Not as good as what he usually drank, but still, it was decent. Maybe the alcohol would loosen her up enough that her anxiety wouldn’t stop her from seeing the South Carolina coastline.
When she finally showed up, he pretended not to notice her staring at him from the doorway. Best to let her come to him. He’d pushed her enough for one day. He could wait her out.
Becca frowned. She’d expected to see him digging through boxes, but here he sat sipping wine or something. Not a care in the world. Didn’t he understand how much there was to do? Or was he just going to ignore it and hope she’d do it for him?
Fucker. She wasn’t going to do it for him. She might relent and help him, but not if he wasn’t going to even try. He always took her for granted. Always expected her to bail him out of situations. Well, not this time.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Looking at the city.” His voice came out soft, almost somber. It made her frown. What was he up to? “Take a seat, Becca. Have some champagne and enjoy the view.”
“Are you okay?” She dropped down into the seat on his left.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“About what?”
He shook his head, finally turning his attention to her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you earlier. I was smiling because you made me happy. That’s all.”
“I made you happy yelling at you?” Now she knew he’d really lost his marbles.
“Yes. You always do, Becca. It’s why I call you sometimes late at night. You’re the only person I know who can pull me out of my depression. I never thanked you for that.”
“What are you talking about, D?”
“After we figured out my legs weren’t going to heal on their own, I got mad. I got sad, and finally just downright depressed. Some nights I went down some pretty scary roads. That’s when I’d call and ask you to talk to me. Your voice always pulled me out of my funk.”
She’d had no idea. She thought he’d just been ignoring time zones. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what, exactly, Becca? Sorry to disturb your sleep, but if you don’t talk to me right now, I might go eat a bottle of pills? No, I wasn’t going to put that on you.”
She stood and moved until she was standing behind him before wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his hair. “You should have told me, Dimitri. I would have come to LA and helped you.”
He laughed, and it shook her arms. “You haven’t left your apartment in two years, Krasivaya. You might have wanted to, but I doubt you would have.”
She thought about that before answering him. There were only two people in this world important enough to her to make her get on a plane and risk a panic attack—Jackson and Dimitri.
“You’re wrong, Dimitri. If you really needed me, I would have forced myself out of my safe haven and come to help you. Do you know why?”
“Why?” He swiveled his head, and she stared down into those beautiful blue eyes.
“Because no matter where you are or what you’re doing, if I called you and said I needed you, you’d be on the next flight out. It’s what best friends do.” She kissed his forehead. “You’re as much my family as Jackson is, and I would have come running.”
He twisted in his chair and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her so tightly, she couldn’t breathe. “I love you, Becca.”
“I love you too.” She pinched him so he’d loosen his hold.
“Ouch.”
She shrugged and winked at him. “I couldn’t breathe.”
“So, you didn’t consider my needing you to come to this thing something vital, eh?”
“No.” She snuggled into him, loving having him wrapped around her. These memories would last her a lifetime. “I thought you were just being pissy. If you had told me about your legs, I would have tried my best.”
“But you might not have made it out that door?”
“Probably not.” Dimitri shifted her on his lap and reached over to pour out more champagne. “It’s not the same thing as swallowing a bottle of pills. I’d have gotten on a plane and dealt with the panic attacks until I reached your house for that. Don’t ever not call, Dimitri. If I lost you, it would be like losing a part of myself. Don’t you dare put me through that.”
“You’d have to get in line behind Mama and Babushka.”
“Your grandmother is quite the character.” Becca smiled thinking about the little woman who terrified all her grandsons. She’d met her back when she’d visited Virginia during Dimitri’s senior year in high school. She and his uncle came to pick him up from school, not knowing he was in detention. Laughter spilled out when she remembered the look of horror on Dimitri’s face when he’d seen her and had to explain why he was in detention.
“What’s so funny?” He handed her a glass and settled back, seemingly content to let her sit in his lap. She didn’t want to move either.
“I was thinking of the time your grandmother showed up at school.”
A lazy grin appeared. “I remember that. She demanded to know what I’d done and went on a rant in Russian, scaring Mrs. Bland. I love that old woman.”
Becca took a drink of the champagne and coughed as the bubbles assaulted her.
“Easy, Krasivaya. You sip it, not drink it like you would wine.”
How the hell was she supposed to know that? She’d never had champagne before. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Just another difference between the two of them. He was so much more sophisticated than she was.
“Your face flames the softest shade of pink when you get embarrassed.”
“Didn’t your babushka teach you not to call attention to a lady’s embarrassment? It’s bad manners.”
“Probably.” His thumb started to rub slow circles into her upper arm as he sipped his own champagne. “I was never overly good at remembering them, though.”
Her lungs froze. His touch, while absentminded, was enough to send chills up her spine. He had no idea what he did to her.
“Sometimes I do remember them, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be proper. It’s not as fun as misbehaving.” His head dipped until his lips were right by her ear. “Don’t you think so, Krasivaya?”
“What does that mean?” Her own voice turned whisper-soft. This was so not good. She needed to get up. To put distance between them.
“That’s not our game, sweetheart.” His nose skimmed along her ear, down her jaw. “Ya tebya khochu.”
“It was never a fair game,” she squeaked out when his lips replaced his nose and traveled back up to her ear.
“Who ever said I play fair, Krasivaya?” His teeth sank into her sensitive lobe, and it sent a ripple of desire through her.
“What are you doing, Dimitri?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled back, his blue eyes muddled with questions. “Probably something I shouldn’t.”
He didn’t give her time to respond and crushed his lips to hers. She went completely still in his arms, shocked. He switched tactics when she didn’t move. He rubbed slow, soothing circles along her back with one hand and cupped her cheek with the other, softening the kiss. Becca’s own desire, coupled with how much she loved the man who she’d never thought even sent a lustful thought her way, melted her resolve, and she gave in to the burning heat blazing a path through every inch of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, opening her mouth when he nudged her lips.
He invaded like a conquering army. He took everything she had to give, and then some. He leaned forward, pushing her back into the table, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss. Becca spiraled out of control, lost in the warmth that was all Dimitri Kincaid.
She tasted like sweet champagne and minty toothpaste. He explored her mouth, tasting, teasing her tongue. Fire ripped through him, and he fought the urge to bend her over the table, gather her hands in the center of her back, and fuck her so hard she’d wake the entire hotel. Fought the urge to carry her to bed. Fought the urge to do exactly what he knew he shouldn’t.
But for all that fight, he couldn’t keep his lips from hers. It had been a lost cause the minute he’d seen her this morning.
It was Becca who pulled away first. She dropped her head onto his chest and he laid his cheek against the top of her head. “We can’t do this, Dimitri.”
“I know.”
She went to stand, and he tightened his arms around her, not wanting to let go of her. “Just stay with me for a little while longer.”
“Not a good idea, Dimitri.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t want you to go.”
She didn’t say anything, but she stopped trying to get up. He should send her inside and attempt to get his desire under control, but the thought of letting her go brought out something in him he’d never experienced before. It was an instinct, a need to pull her close and stake a claim. It terrified him, truthfully, but not enough to send her away.
They sat that way for a good hour, listening to the night and drinking champagne, before she interrupted their peaceful interlude. He knew it was coming, but he hated when she pulled away from him.
“We need to go inside, Dimitri. There’s a lot to do.”
The mountain of boxes. He’d forgotten all about them. She was right, of course. There was a lot to do, but he resented the damn boxes. They were interrupting this…whatever this was.
“I need to get cleaned up. Why don’t you call the front desk and see if there’s any place open that delivers this late? Then we’ll tackle that army of boxes waiting. Sound good?”
She nodded and stood. This time he let her go without any arguments and rose, his legs quivering. He caught the back of the chair to steady himself. He saw Becca tense out of the corner of his eye, ready to help if he needed it, but understanding he wouldn’t want her help otherwise. Charlene had spent the last few months treating him like an invalid. Most probably would. That was another reason he wanted Becca with him. She’d make him man up and do it, but she’d be the first person offering him help if he needed it. She understood that. She’d grown up with bikers. That was probably where she’d learned it.
Bikers. He resisted the urge to laugh. His dainty girl grew up with bikers. Who would have thunk it?
“Becca?”
“Hmm?”
“Did those bikers teach you how to fight too?”
That pulled an impish grin from her. “Never piss me off, and you’ll never have to find out.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Let’s just say I can hold my own.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Jackson made sure of it.”
“Come on, Jackie Chan, let’s get inside. Find us some food while I take a shower.”
She cracked a crooked smile his way and went to find the phone while he headed for the bathroom.
To take a cold, cold shower.