I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 26
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Finally, sweet, blessed silence. I’d dealt with difficult kids before but never one who switched so fast from pure sunshine to a monsoon of misery. Gathering the tatters of my composure, I wiped his face with a damp cloth. My hands shook in reaction when I pulled up his covers, and a steel band tightened around my skull, a souvenir of the fit. I also had a fierce kink between my shoulders from hauling him around for an hour. This felt almost like a hangover, though it was emotional, not physical.
He spoke in a tiny, chastened voice. “Are you mad, Nadia?”
“No. Just tired.”
Then I leaned down and hugged him, so he’d know I meant it. By this point, he was exhausted, but he clung to my hand as I read Goodnight Moon. Before I finished the story, he passed out, eyes still red and swollen. For a few seconds, I stayed on the side of his bed, afraid to move, afraid I’d jar him awake and start the noise again.
Eventually, I stole out of the room, swallowing a huge sigh. My clothes were still wet, and I was shivering. Hoping Ty wouldn’t mind, I went to his room and opened the closet door. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? No snooping, I grabbed the first shirt I found and changed into it. White dress shirt, good quality. It didn’t cover as much of me as it would have a smaller woman. Even my socks were wet, so I hung my clothes to dry in the bathroom. Not for the first time, I wished these units had a built-in washer and dryer.
Afterward, I arched my back and stretched. Sounds like my spine’s made of bubble wrap. I assessed the apartment, wincing. So trashed. I’d dumped just about everything Sam owned onto the floor. My body shouted at me to collapse, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Mustering the last of my reserves, I set the bathroom to rights, tidied up the kitchen and put Sam’s toys away.
There, that’s fine.
When Ty’s key rattled in the door at ten-fifteen, I was barely awake, snuggled on the couch beneath the chenille throw. He stepped inside, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Man, I knew exactly how he felt. The scruff on his jaw said he hadn’t shaved in two or three days, and his hair was rumpled. A crooked tie spoke of frustration.
“Did you solve the problem?” I managed a smile.
“Yeah. I found the permits, thank God. I knew we had them. Everything go okay here?” he asked, glancing around the room warily.
That was exactly why I had to clean up. “More or less. Sam ate dinner, took a bath and brushed his teeth. I read him a story. Now he’s asleep.”
“This sounds too good to be true.”
Momentarily sidestepping the implicit question, I scooted out of my warm nest, went to the kitchen, pressed a few buttons and came back. “There’s a plate of casserole in the microwave. I’m nuking it for you.”
He was still standing, frozen, beside the couch. “Is that...my shirt?”
Oh, my God. How could I forget? Shit. My cheeks filled with enough heat to power the whole town. “My stuff got soaked during Sam’s bath. It’s drip-drying. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“No, it’s fine. I was just...surprised. I don’t expect you to sit around in wet clothes.”
The microwave beeped, saving me. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
To my relief, he did as I suggested. Maybe he was just so tired, walking another step sounded like too much effort. So I delivered the gourmet—according to Sam—meal, along with a bottle of beer. Embarrassed, I sat and pulled the throw over my legs.
Lord, he must think this is the lamest seduction ever.
Ty stared at his plate. “This is...pretty much his favorite dinner, though I don’t usually put the broccoli in it. Sneaky, I like it. So how was Sam, really?”
“One minor snafu.” That was a hell of an understatement, but complaining wouldn’t diminish his stress or mine. “Took me forty-five minutes to find Mr. O’Beary.”
“You...” He stared at me, spoon arrested partway to his mouth.
“What?”
Ty shook his head as if in disbelief. “I know what Sam’s like when we can’t find that stupid bear. How come you’re not rocking and weeping?”
I smiled at him in reassurance. “There are a few difficult students in my practicum, so this wasn’t my first time. Yeah, Sam was upset, but he settled down as soon as I realized where to look. He’s a sweet kid.”
“I quit,” he said softly.
“Huh?”
He rubbed his chest, like it was aching. “You made his favorite dinner, and you found his bear. I come home, and you’re wearing my shirt. I can’t fight this anymore, Nadia.”
“I’m sorry—” I started.
His expression silenced me. Never in my life had I seen that exact combination of need and longing.
“Unless you don’t want me to, I might literally die if I don’t kiss you.”
“I want,” I whispered.
In an instant, Ty closed the distance between us and cupped my face in his hands. His palms, oh, we’d been here before, but never like this. I licked my lips as his gaze skated over my face, kindled like a jar of honey in the sunlight. He made the hungriest sound I’d ever heard as he leaned in. But his lips were whisper-soft when they brushed mine, moonbeams and starlight. Shocking heat surged through me from that slight contact. He backed off just for a few seconds, gazing at me with a sort of startled adoration. Then he went back in for a deeper taste. I hadn’t fantasized beyond this moment—I hadn’t dared—but dreams couldn’t have done it justice. He kissed like all the best kinds of sin, slow and steamy, echoed by nips and bites, soft sounds and nuzzling. I gave back, more, more, mouths, tongues, his hands in my hair, mine on his shoulders.
It went on for ages, until he was practically on top of me.
“Too much?” he panted.
Not enough.
Somewhere in my head, there was a brain, but it was sizzling in pleasure and pheromones, drowning in the sweet, slick rush of endorphins, because he felt and tasted perfect. Hot skin, bristly jaw, soft lips, a touch chapped, and I’m licking them—mmm, that chin—Ty wrapped his arms around me and drew me onto his lap. Ty was hot and hard underneath me, throbbing. In his shirt, my legs were bare as I straddled him, still kissing. He trailed his lips away from my mouth, over my jaw and down my throat, counterpoint of teeth and tongue to make me moan. He took each sound, each gasp, with a quick lunge back to my lips. He stroked a path down my back, pausing at my hips then sliding lower. A shudder went through both of us when he grazed my bare thighs.
“Nadia,” he whispered against my neck.
“Mmm.”
“I wanted you the first time I saw you.”
I shifted, bit him gently on the ear. “It was mutual.”
“Christ.”
“Take your shirt off.” All my big words were gone. I was beyond thinking or caring about consequences. Obstacles between us faded to flutters in the back of my head.
He leaned back so I could unbutton him. Ty had a lean build, long and wiry, with broad shoulders tapering to a taut stomach. The auburn hair that arrowed toward his belt only made him sexier, so I yielded to the impulse to rub my hands against his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath in response to that touch, cause and effect. His heart hammered away beneath my palms.
“That’s so good,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” I was hardly paying attention to what he said anymore, only the tone, lost in the magic of making him react. At long last, I had permission to touch.
Teasing, I brushed my thumbs against his nipples, admiring the ruddy stripe on his cheekbones as they tightened. Now he was quiet, too. He couldn’t stop moving under me, a shift here, push there. My weight promised all kinds of things, and Ty pulled me in for a long, hungry kiss, his hand firm on the back of my neck. As we kissed, I raked my nails over his shoulders, and he groaned.
“Can’t tonight,” he growled. “I’m not... I don’t—”
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