er.
But he couldn’t have what he wanted.
So the cold shower would have to do.
* * *
She woke up afraid.
A sense of being watched crept over her again. Her bones felt cold.
Afraid she was becoming paranoid, Megan hugged the couch pillow tight to her chest and groggily glanced around the hotel room. Her mind flashed to Cody, honing in on his smile. His blue eyes that made her think of Hawaii when they sparkled warmly like that. Where was he?
She set the pillow down and stood, spotting him by the door.
She smiled at him, feeling herself blush. “Hey,” she said sleepily. He had not moved an inch, was still and silent. “What time is it?” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw it was 4:10 A.M. “So early. Don’t you sleep?”
She saw a smile form on his lips, and it filled her with pleasure, but she wanted more than smiles. Wanted the clean, cool forest scent of his hair filling her lungs.
Watching her strangely, he ran his fingers down his tie as though its weight was a burden on his chest. As she watched his hands, she could only think of how rough his fingertips were and how they would feel if they ever reached the tender parts of her skin.
He took a step forward, moving differently, not as stealthily as he normally did. But slowly. Very, eerily slowly. Megan held her breath, her head swimming with anticipation. The shadows pulsed, the breath of each somehow synchronized to begin when the other ended.
“I want you,” he said gruffly.
Her heart skipped, and for a moment she could only stare while holding her breath, unsure she’d heard right.
“I … want you,” she hastily returned, her heart hammering. This is it, a part of her screamed in excitement, while another could not believe it, couldn’t give credit to this happening.
Cody wants me, Cody wants me, he really wants me!
He reached out and pulled her close, and his scent was different. Her nose twitched as she attempted to place the strange scent, struggling to find the essence of Cody in it, but it was difficult to retain an idea when he started stroking her rump. Shock raced through her system, and then, slow as ice melting, she relaxed against him and moaned. “Please,” she murmured. “Please kiss me … please…” she heard herself say.
He held her face and kissed her while pushing his fingers deep into her hair, his tongue rough and hungry. His taste … so unexpected. She opened her eyes, confused, but he groaned and the sound undid her, so she closed them once more and let him sweep her away. Something inside of her whispered, this can’t be. He’s stronger than this. You’ll wake up soon, and he’ll be in the other room, and you’ll be alone.
But she silenced that voice with a moan of pleasure, another whispered “please” as she sank her nails into his shoulders and rocked against him.
Way in the back of her mind, she heard footfalls in the adjoining room, then a bang on the door, followed by a crash as the door thrust open. And still Cody deepened the kiss, as though proving to her that nothing would tear him apart from her.
Megan shuddered wantonly. His attention had been so desired, so cherished, she wanted to beat whoever was coming in—get lost in Cody’s kiss. But she couldn’t. The intruder made Cody stop kissing her, and suddenly he instead wrapped his arms around her windpipe. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he told the one who’d broken through the door, in a voice so cold, Megan felt a chill down to her ankles. Was Cody threatening to throttle her?
Then she saw that the man by the door was Ivan. And he was … bare-chested. Wearing only something like checkered sleep pants. His hair was wet, his chest gleaming with moisture. “You’re not me,” he growled, in a voice so deadly, Megan feared for Cody’s life. But for a full second, she became riveted by Ivan’s phisique.
He looked … muscular.
Too muscular.
When she’d pressed against him right now, Cody didn’t feel as hard as Ivan looked as he walked over. And he moved, wow, like a killer. Like a trained killer.
Goodness but jail had done him wrong. They had made him into a killing machine, and he had eyes only for Cody. Murdering blue eyes.
Noticing that his hold on her throat had loosened, Megan pushed him aside. “Cody, run! Go get your gun!”
But before Cody could move, Ivan knocked him to his knees and pushed him to the ground. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed, grabbing his hair and slamming his forehead on the carpet. “Having fun in my closet? Huh? Having fun watching her while you play with my fucking ties?” He tightened the tie on his neck with a yank and Cody began choking.
Panicked, Megan didn’t register what Ivan was saying, only registered what she saw: Cody being killed by his tie, just like his colleagues joked he would.
She had to do something. She lunged at wet, bare-chested Ivan and pummeled his ribs so hard he turned around to face her with a look of utter annoyance, and when he did, she launched a kung fu kick in the air, slamming it right in his nuts. He bowled over with a yell.