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“You’reina safe house. The condo’s safe. You just keep leaving it.”
I didn’t like the way he said the last sentence.
“Are you thinking of cuffing me to the bed again?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Great.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned.
“Thinkin’ about it isn’t the same as doin’ it. You’re a security challenge. I have to keep you safe while not lowering my chances of gettin’ into your sexy underwear, or more to the point, gettin’ you out of them.”
I thought it likely that Lee was up to that challenge. At least I hoped so.
“By the way, nice performance back there,” Lee remarked. “I especially liked the part where you kicked the guy in the chest. Class.”
Great.
At least his voice sounded a mixture of amused and admiring.
When we got to the condo, Lee let us in and I told him I had to do the round of calls to make sure everyone was all right.
I stood on the balcony with my phone, and without me having to ask Lee brought me three ibuprofens and a glass of water. He watched as I guzzled them, took the glass and then disappeared.
Holy shit.
He wasverygood at this togetherness stuff.
I called Tod and Stevie first.
They were home, safe and sound and maybe a little freaked out, but not mad at me. At least Tod wasn’t. He was more interested in dissecting our act on stage.
“Girlie, we kickedass. They were on their feet. They were chanting. We gotta go shopping. We gotta get you some mini-Burgundy outfits. We gotta take thisshowon theroad!”
Andrea and Marianne were also safe, though Andrea’s husband said she wasn’t allowed to go out with me anymore, which caused a fight as no one ever told Andrea what she was allowed to do. No one. Richie Sambora, the great and glorious lead guitar of Bon Jovi and Andrea’s dream man could have given her an order and she would have told him to go fuck himself.
Duke thought it was a hoot. Dolores was considering backing out of girl’s night out on Wednesday.
I flipped my phone shut and walked into the bedroom. Lee was in the same position he’d been in last night—in bed, on his back, chest bare, sheet nearly to the waist. The light was on, but this time he didn’t have a book and he was fast asleep.
I’d never really had the time to observe him while he was asleep, and he looked different. He looked kind of like the old, pre-Special Ops Lee, the hardness and scariness gone, just…Lee.
I wanted to kiss him, as inreallywanted to kiss him. He looked good, lying there sleeping. Seriously good. Melt in your mouth good.
Instead I cleaned my face, brushed my teeth and pulled on the Night Stalker tee. I double-checked the door was locked and the sliding doors to the balcony were secured. I tiptoed to Lee’s side of the bed, switched off the light and then went to my side of the bed and slid in carefully, so as not to wake him.
I told myself over and over again that I was not going to kick or hit Lee in his sleep. This helped me force out thoughts of bullets flying and how totally out of control my life was.
* * *
I wokeup to a hand in my panties, cupping my ass, and another one under my shirt, stroking the side of my breast. I was sprawled half-on, half-off Lee, my face tucked into his neck.
“You awake?” he asked.
I nodded, sleepily assessing my semi-aroused state.
His hand moved immediately to cup my breast, his thumb sliding across the nipple. An electric pulse shot through me and the “semi” part of my semi-aroused was a distant memory.
