Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

shirt. His fingers skimmed down the sides of her breasts, sliding to hook her hips. Her body jerked and a sob escaped. Joley pushed her knuckles into her mouth.
    He framed her face with his hands. 'I'll buy you a couple of outfits. Nicer ones. Ones you'll love. Come on, lubov moya, stand up and let's get the jeans off you. You have a nasty cut on your leg as well. You're exhausted. Don't think about what we're doing. Tell me what you did when you found your clothes shredded.'
    She swallowed hard and tried not to shiver as he hooked her jeans and boy-short panties, dragging them over her thighs and urging her to step out of them. He lifted her into the bathtub.
    'I gave the performance of my life. I rocked the house. I wasn't about to let someone scare me off.'
    Her teeth chattered as Joley sank down into the heated water. Whatever he had put into it stung, letting her know where the cuts on her body were. She crossed her arms over her breasts and swayed. Her head pounded so hard she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning. Ilya crouched down beside her, sponging her off with a soft washcloth, rinsing the blood so he could see how deep the cuts were.
    Most were superficial, he saw with a sigh of relief. She did look a little worse for wear with her arm torn from the earlier accident, although he could see it was healing fast. Her head was by far the worst cut, followed by the gash in her leg. It was long, but shallow, not really needing stitches he saw now that he could examine it. A bandage would do the trick, and with the smaller cuts and bruises he just laid his palm on them, summoning healing energy and decided he'd apply a topical antibiotic cream.
    'That's my woman. Now tell me about the bomb.' He dried her shivering body off gently with a towel and wrapped her in a robe. He dropped his voice to a hypnotic, mesmerizing tone. 'The pain will lessen in a moment.'
    Joley sank into the chair by the mirror, her legs too wobbly to hold her up. She drew her knees up, resting her feet on the seat of the chair, and watched as he casually pulled his shirt off. He had such a beautiful body. She wished her eyes would focus just a little better. He had a really ugly slice down his ribs, obviously from a knife, but it looked fairly shallow.
    'Here, let me see.' She beckoned him closer with her finger. She had recognized the compulsion in his voice; he could spell-sing, although not as well as she could. She hadn't thought of that with her brain so jumbled, but she could do no less for him.
    Ilya hesitated but stepped closer when she started to get off the chair. 'It's nothing, really, Joley. I'll shower and wash the wounds thoroughly in a few minutes.'
    Joley ignored his statement and touched around the wound lightly with her fingertips. He felt that touch vibrate through his body like an electrical current. As tired as he was, as fearful as he'd been for her, his control wasn't nearly as good as he'd have liked. He didn't want to react physically when she needed comfort and care most, but it seemed he had no control over his body. He felt the blood pooling hot and insistent in his groin.
    'Joley, maybe you'd better not…'
    'Shh,' she cautioned and leaned forward to brush a kiss along the ragged edges.
    He'd thought the pads of her fingers were sensual, but her soft lips were a thousand times worse. He cursed and caught her wrists. 'Tell me about the bomb.'
    She looked up at him with slightly glazed eyes. He couldn't help himself - he leaned down and kissed her upturned mouth, running his tongue possessively along the seam until she opened for him. He allowed himself the luxury of losing himself in her, just for a moment, to celebrate that she was alive. He'd known fear as a child, but had lost it along the way as an adult - now it was back because for the first time in his life, he had someone to lose.

    He lifted his head and brushed her mouth twice m°re. 'Come on. Let's get you into the living room.
    The detective should be here in a few minutes. I'm going to shower and stay out of sight. I have to fix my arm. Can you handle him alone?'
    She nodded, her eyes enormous, pupils still somewhat dilated.
    He carried her into a large, sunken living room and laid her on the couch, arranging the pillows around her and covering her with a blanket. 'Don't get up when he comes in. Just stay right there. He knows you're waiting for him and he'll let himself in.'
    'How do you know that?'
    'Because it's my job to take care of details.