Читать книгу Wild Holiday Nights: Holiday Rush / Playing Games / All Night Long - Meg Maguire, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 11

3

GIDEON KNEW HE’D done the right thing—just as he’d done by walking away eight years ago.

Doing the right thing sucked, but it was a lesson his father had drilled into him when he was very young.

He wished he could have broken the rules this once. But Nathan wasn’t just another cop on the force; he was Gideon’s partner. Nate had trained him, and they’d worked together ever since. He’d saved Gideon’s life, and the trust they shared wasn’t something Gideon took lightly. Gideon was supposed to make sure Nate’s sister was safe—not seduce her.

Calla’s offer of a holiday affair had been torture to turn down, especially since he hadn’t been with anyone in a while. On top of the demands of his job, his mom’s death and the resulting grief, sex had been the last thing on his mind.

Until he’d seen Calla. Now it was all he could think about. She was right—who would know? Well, he would.

He entered the large double doors of the local precinct where Calla had reported her break-in, announcing his arrival at the reception desk.

Gideon looked at postings on a corkboard in the hall for a few minutes, waiting.

“Detective Stone?”

An older guy, short and squat, but no less tough for his stockier stature, stood behind him. Gideon could tell Detective Howser had been in the game for a while. He’d probably seen it all, and more.

“Detective Howser. Call me Gideon. Thanks for taking a minute to talk to me.”

“Sure, no problem,” the detective responded with a thick New York accent, waving Gideon on to follow him back to his office.

Inside, he shut the door. “What can I do for you, Tex?”

Gideon grinned, not minding the moniker the detective casually threw his way. “I wondered if you could give me any more information on an attempted robbery that happened four days ago at a bakery in Chelsea...”

Awhile later, Gideon emerged from the precinct resolved not to leave the city, or Calla. Not just yet, anyway.

The fingerprints taken from the knife belonged to a repeat offender with a long rap sheet—one that included several assaults as well as robberies and other crimes. He’d done two stints in prison already, and tended to hold a grudge. Gideon’s gut was telling him it wasn’t time to head back to Texas just yet. Howser had said they were scouring the neighborhoods to turn him up. Once Gideon knew the police had the thief in custody, then he could relax and consider his work done. However, Calla wasn’t exactly going to welcome him back into her shop, or her life.

Returning to her shop in his rental car, he drove by to check that she was in the store, working—she was. He found himself some coffee and a sandwich, and then parked in a spot down the street from the shop, under a snow-covered tree. The streets were busy. She didn’t know his car, and Gideon was good enough not to be spotted tailing her—and to spot anyone else who might be following her, as well.

He settled in, watching Calla’s storefront. From a distance. Which was exactly as it should be. He had no place coming on to or kissing Calla Michaels. This was the price he’d pay for getting too close in the first place.

It made for a long afternoon and evening. Calla didn’t even leave to get dinner; she worked straight through, sitting at her table. The crowd in front of the shop seemed a bit larger today.

Did Calla’s family have any clue what amazing work she was doing, and the effort she put into it? When Nathan had said she ran a bakery, Gideon had pictured doughnuts and Italian bread, but what Calla did was as much art as baking. Clearly as dedicated as she was talented, she easily worked the same kind of hours that he—or any of her family members—did.

He needed to stretch his legs and got out of the car to take a turn around the neighborhood while keeping an eye on the shop. It was considerably less busy this time of night, when Calla’s Cakes was one of the last businesses open.

Shortly after midnight, the lights in the shop turned off and Calla finally emerged from the front door. She’d mentioned that her apartment was within walking distance when they’d been chatting in the bakery. Gideon locked his car and followed on foot.

He’d make sure she was safely tucked inside for the night, then he could come back and move the car to a spot near her home. So much for the pricey hotel room he’d booked, but this was the job. It was going to be a long, cold night, he thought as he pulled his coat around him, keeping a safe distance behind Calla from the opposite side of the street.

She walked with the crisp step he saw other New Yorkers use, moving through the dark street to her destination as if completely focused on that task alone. The area seemed safe enough—still, it was late, and she was alone.

Five minutes later, she turned to climb the stairs toward the wrought iron doors of an older brick apartment building. There was a decorated tree on one side of the yard, and a menorah across the walk. Several tenants had decorated their windows as well, making it very cheerful and bright. Near the top, Calla slipped her hand inside her bag for her keys.

The next few seconds were a blur. Everything happened so fast that Gideon was unprepared when he saw a shadow dart out and grab Calla from behind, dragging her back down the steps and into a small courtyard.

Gideon was across the street in seconds, reaching for his gun—which he didn’t have, and wasn’t allowed to carry, in the city. That didn’t stop him, though.

Dashing into the darkness where the intruder had dragged Calla, Gideon called her name and heard her muffled reply. Someone was covering her mouth. He saw them scuffling in the corner under a barren tree and ran in that direction, taking the attacker by the back of his coat collar and pulling.

“Get off her!” Gideon growled. Primal emotion ran through him as he yanked the man back from Calla, and then...extreme pain made him gasp.

Hollers of agony filled the quiet courtyard. A tenant in the building yelled something from a window up above them. Gideon was knocked back on his butt into the snow. Someone fell on top of him—the attacker? He couldn’t see; his eyes were on fire. He grasped for something, an arm, a leg, but there was nothing.

“Calla? Where are you? Are you okay?” Gideon pushed himself up from the wet ground and saw a blurry image of Calla appear in his view.

“I’m right here, Gideon, where did you come from? Oh, my, I’m so sorry, look at you, let’s get inside...”

He could feel her shaking as she took his hand, her voice desperate. Afraid. Gideon shook his head, knowing better than to rub his eyes, though he wanted to do so desperately.

“Where is he?”

“He ran off. I sprayed him at the same time you pulled him away from me. I didn’t know you were right there, and I got you, too. I’ll call a cab to get to the ER.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I need some water, please.”

He could see, more or less, out of one eye; the other was worse. She led him up three flights of stairs, repeating that she was so, so sorry as they went. Once inside her small apartment, she led him to the kitchen.

“Do you have any grease-fighting detergent?” he asked.

“Yes, my dish soap.”

“Could you put some in a large bowl, very diluted?”

He watched her bustle around the kitchen with his one good eye, the burning in the other almost unbearable. When she put the bowl in front of him, he closed his eyes and pushed his face into the soapy water for as long as he could, then came out, rinsed under a clean spray in the sink, and repeated the process.

“A towel?”

She pushed one into his hand and he dried off, starting to breathe more easily as the pain subsided.

“Damn it, that stuff hurts,” he said, leaning back against the wall, opening his eyes slowly. “Can you replace that soapy water with some new so I can do it again?”

“Sure. Is it helping?”

“Yes, very much. It’s the only thing that can dissolve the oils in the pepper spray from your skin—you just have to be careful to keep them from running back into your eyes when you rinse.”

“I see. Well, if it helps at all, I think the guy who grabbed me got the most of it.”

“Good.”

Gideon rinsed his face and eyes again, and after a half hour of doing so, felt considerably better. Thank goodness civilian-issue pepper spray was a lot weaker than the type they used on the force, which could burn your skin and even irritate your lungs. This was bad enough.

He looked at Calla, who hadn’t taken her coat off yet. She was pale, with deep shadows under her eyes. Her obvious concern only accentuated them. As his vision cleared, he also noticed a scrape on her hand as she lifted it to remove the bowl from the counter, and there was a light bruise forming on her cheek.

His fury at the idea of someone hurting her far outweighed the lingering sting of the pepper spray.

“Was it the same guy? Did you see him?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He stayed behind me, though his voice sounded the same, but I was so frightened and it all happened so fast.”

“Let me see,” he said, stepping forward and taking her hand in his, looking at the scrape and then putting his hand under her jaw. He touched the bruise gently and was relieved to find it rubbed away, only a smudge of grime.

It didn’t make him any less angry.

He started to pull his hand away, but hers rose to cover it. “Thank you for being there. I’m so sorry I got you with the spray.”

Her voice shook, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Gideon groaned, pulling her in close and holding her until she stopped shaking.

“He’s probably regretting grabbing you tenfold right now. Good for you for thinking fast and being able to use the spray. I only wish I’d seen him sooner.” He lowered his lips to kiss her soft dark hair. “Do you want me to look at that scrape?”

She shook her head. “It’s no big deal. I need to clean up, though. I’ll be fine.”

Tough, smart, strong. Calla could take care of herself, but it didn’t stop Gideon from wanting to help.

“It was possibly your attacker from the store—unlike a lot of criminals, this one has a history of coming back for more. The NYPD should have told you that. We have to report this.”

“I will, in the morning. He’s probably long gone now, and it might not even have been him. I can’t be sure. I’m so tired. I really need to clean up and sleep.”

Gideon believed it. She looked ready to fall asleep on her feet.

“Okay. You do that. Lock the doors. I’ll be outside if you need me. Hand me your cell phone so I can give you my number.” Gideon planned on talking to Howser as soon as he left. If the attacker was suffering from being sprayed, he’d be slowed down and blinded, perhaps seeking help—the perfect time to catch him.

She blinked up at him, frowning. “Outside? Why would you be outside?”

“I know you don’t want me around, but I’m not leaving, or letting you out of my sight, until we know this guy is caught.”

Realization dawned in her expression. “You were watching me.”

“I talked to the detective on your case, and he filled me in on some disturbing details about this guy. I couldn’t leave without knowing you were okay. It’s no big deal. It’s my job.”

She looked up at him, a little less blurry. “It’s a big deal to me. Thank you.”

Gideon didn’t expect that—he expected her to be ticked off—so he was surprised at her thanks.

“Um, sure. Listen, why don’t you take that shower, and I’m going to call this in.”

There was a breath of silence between them, and she looked up at him. “Why don’t you call it in and then join me in the shower?”

Gideon’s heart tripped over itself, his body hardening almost instantaneously. Before he could object, she cut in again.

“I seem to be making a habit of throwing myself at you,” she said with a slight smile. “But I really don’t want to be alone right now, Gideon. Please don’t leave again.”

Damn it. Of all the appeals she might have made, that one socked him in the gut.

“Please,” she whispered, lifting up and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

She continued kissing him until he gave in, unable to resist a deeper taste. Gideon knew he wouldn’t be walking away from Calla again that night.

* * *

CALLA’S FEARS WERE forgotten as soon as she felt Gideon relent, his body relaxing as he pulled her in closer, his mouth finding hers again. They took their time now, getting to know each other, understanding that there was no need to rush.

“I guess I could use a shower, too,” he said against her mouth, making her smile. “After I make this call.”

“Okay. Don’t be long.”

She waited for him to report the attack, watching the way his expression changed, and his voice, as he talked to the other detective. It made him look dangerous. And even sexier. Calla waited until he was done—she didn’t want to give him a chance to change his mind.

When he hung up, she took him by the hand, leading him back to her bedroom. She stopped by the bed, removed her coat, and started taking everything else off, as well. He watched with rapt attention.

Guilt assailed her as she took in the puffy redness still apparent around his eyes and on his cheeks. Down to her bra and panties, she stepped forward, framing his face with her hands.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Are you kidding? My eyes are the happiest they’ve ever been right now,” he said with a lopsided smile that warmed her heart.

His fingers slid around to the back of her bra, unclasping it and letting it fall loose. Calla shrugged it to the floor, inviting his gaze. She wasn’t self-conscious about her body, and she could tell from the heat in his eyes that he liked what he saw.

“You’re way overdressed for the shower,” she said, reaching to push his sweater up over his head, and then the T-shirt under it.

She wasn’t disappointed, but she’d known she wouldn’t be. Leaning in, she darted her tongue out to follow along the smooth edge of one sculptured muscle and smiled when he groaned.

“Calla...”

The way he said her name was a caution and a promise.

She reached for his belt buckle, but he backed away, quickly shucking his pants himself.

Calla caught her breath as she took him in. No, she wasn’t disappointed in any way whatsoever.

“You keep looking at me like that and we’re never making it into the shower.”

“That would be a shame. I can think of all kinds of fun we’ll have in there.”

Sliding her panties to the floor, she walked ahead and let him watch her, putting a little extra swing in her step as she went into the en suite and turned on the light. Her heart was racing as she stepped in under the steamy spray and waited for him to join her.

Was this finally really happening? Did she actually have Gideon Stone naked in a shower with her? He tugged her under the water with him, his mouth landing on hers in a hard, hot kiss.

Definitely real.

Calla closed her fingers over his erection jutting against her hip and stroked. He broke the kiss on a heavy groan, burying his face in her neck. She enjoyed how he pushed into her hand in a needy rhythm.

Then his hands were on her, too, dipping in between her thighs as he moved his lips down her shoulder to her breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his fingers did devilish things between her legs.

“Oh, Gideon,” She sighed, wanting more than his fingers.

Luckily, he wanted the same thing, and hiked her leg up by his hip, backing her against the tile wall under the spray.

“Protection?” he managed as he nibbled at her lips. His hips pressed seductively against hers, making her moan as he teased her clit with the broad head of his shaft.

“Oh, right,” she gasped, thankful he remembered. “Lemme...”

She disengaged herself from this delightful position and reached out to the vanity, where she opened a drawer and reached in to get a small foil packet.

Good to go.

Ripping it open, she sank to her knees in the shower and before she applied it, let herself enjoy one more luxury as she closed her lips over him instead. Her body went into overdrive at the sensation of his wet, velvety skin against her tongue, pressing into the back of her throat.

“Stop,” he commanded brusquely. She knew why and let him pull her up again as her hands deftly covered him.

This time he positioned her face-first against the tile, her hands braced as he widened her stance from behind.

“Okay?” he asked softly, against her ear.

“More than,” she managed, levering her hips back slightly in invitation.

He took that invitation as he nudged against her, experimenting, and then entering her body deeply until they were both gasping with the intensity of it. Calla had never felt so turned on—at the same time, she felt so safe and supported as his arms came around her.

His hands covered her breasts as he started to move, gently strumming his fingers over her tender skin. He whispered hot endearments in her ear in between kisses along the back of her neck.

Calla couldn’t form words, only sounds, as he picked up the pace, thrusting faster while covering her hands with his against the wall, their fingers entwining. Her body welcomed him, clutching and wanting more. She rolled her hips in rhythm with his thrusts until they were both crying out, their bodies pulsing together in a long, hard climax.

Calla lost track of time, of how long they stood there, joined, wringing every last second of pleasure from each other. All she knew, as he turned her to him and slid his hands into her wet hair as he kissed her, was that she wanted more.