The desire-drugged moment fades. Defensively, I shrug. “I was in public.”
“Next time, let me know, and I’ll shield you. But honestly, this is Miami. Nobody would blink an eye,” he asserts. He moves my hands to his shoulders. “Hold on to me while I take off your pants.”
A delicious shiver runs up my spine at his words. My hands trail nervously across his broad shoulders, sliding against hard, tense muscles, while I wait for him to remove my leggings. Thumbs hook into my waistband and slide them down until I can step out, leaving me almost bare before him.
Large hands slide back up my legs to my waist. He inhales sharply.
“Do you want me to grab you some underwear?” he whispers hoarsely.
My face floods with red. I don’t wear underwear under my leggings or my pajamas. Living alone, I’d deemed them optional long ago, but I’ll have to change that habit while I’m here. “No, the pajama shorts are fine.”
With a loud exhale, he reaches for the shorts, puts my feet into the legs, and pulls them up. Once secure around my hips, his hands grip my waist for a second and it’s all I can do to stop myself from leaning into his arms.
He stands and eases me into bed.
“I don’t want a nurse,” I blurt out, refusing to look too closely at the reasons why.
Satisfaction crosses his face. “Good. I promise we’ll take good care of you.” He strides out the door.
Easing down farther into the bed, I use sleep to escape the thoughts tumbling through my brain.
CHAPTER4
THIAGO
Once out of the room, I lean against the wall and rub my hands on the rough texture of my jeans needing to replace the feel of her silky skin, her silkybareskin, from my tactile memory. The bruises all over her face and body should have been a mood killer, but instead I wanted to strip her bare and caress every single mark until pleasure replaced the pain. That’s the good side of my thoughts.
My fists clench. The flip side is the need to know every single inch of damage on her body, so I can sear it into my memory. Somewhere deep inside, in the darkest of places, pure rage lashes wildly against its cage, and it needs fuel. It’s been like this since we found out about Marcos, but it worsened when I found her lying on the ground, her face barely recognizable, Diego standing over her with his fist raised to strike her. Again.
My finger twitches in memory of the shot I took, but Diego was already falling when it reached him. Cruz’ training kicking in a second before my reaction. Damn spook. I hadn’t even seen him move into the room. I’m glad he killed him, but the rage refuses to go away. Marcos. Jason. Henley. All of them mine to protect, and yet, I failed spectacularly every single time.
She doesn’t belong to you, a voice inside reminds me. I snarl and push aside the image of her dressed in my t-shirt, nipples hard against the soft cotton, her body tuned into my desire. She may notbelongto me, but she’s mine to protect. Ours to protect. All three of us owe her our allegiance and protection.
But it isn’t all innocent. I know Mateo is keenly interested in her. Grayson, too, if I’m not mistaken, although he’s doing everything he can to run from her. She would be a good match for either of them… or both. They shared a girlfriend long ago, and it seemed to work out fine for them.
I smother the stab of jealousy that hits me and focus on the positive.
Once Mateo and Grayson are happy, I’ll be able to find someone and settle down too. It’s time. I’ve focused solely on my family and SEI for the last fifteen years, but I want a legacy. It shouldn’t be hard to find someone to fill that role.
The beautiful, accomplished brunette I went out with a month ago is perfect for me. I frown when my mind draws a blank on her name. I shrug. I’m sure it will come to me after I get some sleep. Footsteps echo down the hall, and I straighten when Mateo comes into view.
He stops. “What are you doing in the hallway? Is Henley okay?”
“She’s good. Asleep,” I murmur, forcing myself to move away from her door. I motion for Mateo to turn and walk back toward the living room. “My guess is she’ll sleep for a while. When she wakes, you can take her some dinner.”
Ignoring the tug to go in the other direction, I follow Mateo to the back patio. Grayson’s sitting on the couch, his head back and eyes closed, with a glass of clear liquid in his hand. I’m guessing it’s tequila.
“Did she want us to call Zane and get a nurse for her?” Mateo asks, plopping down in the chair across from Grayson.
“No, she understands the safety concern and is fine with the current plan,” I reply without looking over at him. Spotting the decanter of bourbon, I make my way over and pour myself a drink, then drop down beside them. “She’ll need to wear our shirts for the next few days until her body is a bit more healed. They hang farther down and make it easy for her to slip her arms in and out.” It will be better for my sanity if they supply her with their clothes.
Mateo pulls out his phone to make a note. He’s so compulsively organized. I chuckle.
When I look over to share my amusement with Grayson, he’s staring at me with a shuttered look on his face. I wait, but he says nothing.
Finishing my drink, I set the glass down on the table and lean back on the sofa.I just need to close my eyes for a few seconds, then I’ll get up, I promise myself.
* * *
