THREE
Brianna
“So, just how old are you, Chief Michaels?” I sat across from him, picking at an apple turnover.
A low chuckle floated across the table. “Old enough to mean what I say, know what I want, and take what I need.”
His answer nearly sent me crashing through the floor. He was gorgeous, cocky, my savior. And somewhere deep down, I wanted to kick him in the balls. The things this man made me feel were inexplicable—impossibly turned on and crazy irrational, emotionally vulnerable, and physically desirable—everything about what I was feeling felt like a contradiction, and yet somehow still so very right.
“That’s an evasive answer at its best. ’Fraid to tell me how old you are?” I arched a playful eyebrow.
He arched his right back. Damn, I hated him. “Not afraid, sweetheart. Just don’t give a shit. Age is just a number, maybe you haven’t learned that yet. Takes a few times around the block before you pick up the wisdom I have.”
I couldn’t help the laugh then. He could sling ’em, and he could take ’em. I liked him. And liking him was dangerous.
I was a girl who fell hard and fast, which is why I didn’t fall.
One high school boyfriend and a broken heart at fifteen was all it’d taken me to write off men.
“So spill the goods. What year were you born, Pops?”
“Pops?” He shook his head, that gorgeous grin deepening. I noticed for the first time the laugh lines bracketing his full lips. He was a man who must laugh a lot. It looked good on him. The soft spray of crow’s feet at his temples complemented the fire that danced in his dark eyes. “What’s your best guess?”
I tilted my head, eyes searching his face greedily.
He could be one of those models from an L.L. Bean catalogue. All rugged and well-aged, like a fine whiskey. Dark and smoky and sweet on the tongue.
I bet he was so sweet on the tongue.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away. “Thirty-five.”
He huffed, drawing my attention back to him. “Close.”
“How close?” The salt-and-pepper sprinkled in his hair only added to the distinguished, confident air. He carried himself well.
“Few years off.” He shrugged, taking a long swig of his coffee, his throat rising and contracting with the action. God, how could watching him swallow coffee be so sexy?
“More than five?” I calculated the numbers in my head. That would put him around forty. If this was what forty looked like, I was A-OK with that.
“More than five,” he confirmed, and I raised my eyes. “Not over forty? And definitely not under thirty-five. You’re like an enigma, Chief Michaels.”
He grinned, his eyes doing that sparkling thing I was fast coming to love. “Forty-two.” He leaned a little closer, his hand brushing my own on the table. “That too old?”
“Old? More like mature and sexy. Nothing about you is old.” I slapped my hands over my mouth in total horror. The words vomited out before I could put a lid on them. Dammit.
He arched one slash of dark eyebrow. “So how many years you got under your belt, Ms. Foster?”
“Twenty…” I paused, stringing him along. “One.”
His eyebrows rose for a moment, glancing down my body then up to my face again.
“Surprised?” I asked, feeling warm and tingly under his intense scrutiny.
“You act more mature. The way you hold yourself, the sarcasm. Don’t usually see sarcasm like that until well into your thirties.”
“It’s a gift.” I shrugged.
He grinned, eyes burning up the space between us and lighting a fire in my belly.
Jinx chose that moment to rumble with irritation in my arms. “He gets angry when he’s hungry.”
I set the old man on the floor, watched him toddle for a moment on the slick hardwood, then plop down on his ass and look straight up at me, letting out a long, low howl in frustration.
“When is he not angry?” Blaise’s eyes turned down to my cat. “I’ve got some tuna. Will he eat that?”
“He’ll eat anything. I’ll have to go to the store and get him some food later.” Without money. God. My life sucked.
“We’ll stop at the pet store. Maybe pick up some fresh bandages for your wound too while we’re out.” He set a can of open tuna at Jinx’s feet, and the old cat started feasting instantly. But only after swiping and growling at Blaise. “How is it feeling?”
Blaise bent to the floor and placed a hand on my knee, his fingertips trailing up the curve before tracing around the cotton bandage.
Fireflies bounced off the walls of my stomach. The way his rough, heavy palms touched my skin was like they’d always meant to be there. Like he knew exactly how and where to touch me to melt me into a pool of delicious submission.
“It feels fine,” I finally choked out.
“Maybe I should take a look at it?” His fingers wrapped around my calf as he held me in place, firm and steady in his grip.
The power harnessed by his body alone was a turn-on, but then to have him so close, so in my space, was threatening to my very sanity.
Blaise turned, striding down a long hallway and disappearing out of my sight. My eyes took in the simple surroundings of his cabin. Definitely a bachelor pad, but clean, well-cared for. Just like everything he did, I imagined.
Giant windows soared up to the second story of the big A-frame, snow-capped mountains dominating the view. Everything about Blaise Michaels was impressive, not just the way he held himself, but the way he really cared for the things he loved. The way he knew what he liked and how he liked it. I could use an injection of his kind of confidence once in a while.
“Fresh bandages and some antibiotic cream.” He sauntered back into the room, holding his finds. He crouched between my knees, handling me gently as he cleaned my cut with a damp cloth, then medicated and covered the wound with fresh dressing.
“Thank you for doing this. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.” Jinx chose that moment to meow loudly and curl his tail around my ankle. “Jinx thanks you too.”
Blaise arched an eyebrow, glancing at the cat now hovering around his knees, and then rested his palm on my knee. “You’re welcome for as long as you need, Brianna. I mean that.”
I swallowed, eyes transfixed by his as I felt a thousand more things passing between us.
I couldn’t believe he was offering to let me stay with him.
I couldn’t believe I was considering it.
But no way could I walk out that door now, beg for a bed at the homeless shelter, and try to snatch a shower before I had to work Thursday morning.
Ugh.
Work.
“Anything else you need to do today?” Blaise interrupted my anxious thoughts.
“I have to call work.” I swiped a palm over my face. “I’m supposed to work Thursday morning—”
“You’re not going back to work.”
“What, why? I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I go back to work?”
“You’ve just suffered a traumatic event. I’ll get you a doctor’s appointment—”
“No, really, Blaise. I’m perfectly fine. I just need somewhere to sleep for a few nights. I get paid next Friday. If I skip my insurance payment, I’ll probably have enough for a deposit on a new place.”
“Absolutely not.” He shook his head, determination lacing his features. “No fucking way. You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He turned to walk away.
“Blaise.” I followed his lead and shot up from my chair, following him into the kitchen.
“You’re being so generous, but I can’t keep taking all this help from you.”
“Why the hell not?” He turned, eyes hard as he watched me.
“Because, at some point, I have to face real life. I have bills to pay, a job to do, classes to get to.”
“Classes?”
“I’m in school, part time at the community college. Nursing, but it’s hard to study when I’m working too, and I hate turning down hours at work because I need the cash to make rent. Well, I did.” I paused, instantly regretting the way I’d just laid all my worries out for him.
His jaw ticked, eyes darting away before he pushed a hand through his hair. “You’ll stay here. I’ll drive you to work and class if I have to.”
“Why would I stay, Blaise? So you can feed some misplaced hero complex? I wasn’t injured in the fire. I got cut chasing my cat under the bed. I’m perfectly fine. It was like a normal Monday night for me.” I shrugged off the misfortune. I had to; that’s how a girl like me got by.
“Hero complex?” He advanced on me then, his hands cupping my jaw, lips hovering just inches from mine. His nearness sucked all the oxygen out of the room, twisting my stomach and making my knees weak. “You think this is a hero complex?” He thrust his hips against mine, the thick bulge of his very hard cock pressing between us. “I don’t want you only to feed some bullshit sense of ego I have, Brianna. I want you here because you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to wake up to first thing in the damn morning. The only woman I want to sink myself inside of every night.” His teeth grazed my ear. “I want to make you come so hard every damn neighbor will know I own you.”
He lifted me onto the counter, his rough hands spreading my thighs and sliding my ass across the cool granite.
Blaise’s hands trailed up my skin as his words sank in.
He wanted me.
He wanted me here.
With him.
And now his hands were crawling up my body.
Oh, God.