With her left hand still on his back, she touched his side, being as calm and slow-moving as if she were gentling a feral cat. Her fingers slipped over the sharp curve of his hipbone, then through hair that was soft and still damp.
She found him harder now, and his gasp sharper when she touched him. First with one finger, then with two, running up his length. She curved her palm over the smooth corona—it was moist, but not from the bathwater.
Boone twitched again—his cock, and then his whole body. She could feel his tension with her left hand, his heat with her right. She didn’t want to tease. She curved her hand around him and moved up and down his length, listening to his breath, feeling him in a way she’d never felt another.
It didn’t take long. He’d been ready for a long time, sublimating as he tended to her fears. Now it was all focused on him, only she found herself wanting more. Selfish, she knew, but she wanted to kiss him.
She didn’t. She just moved her hand faster, pumping his flesh, waiting until every muscle in his body tensed, his head jerked back, his legs shook.
His hand went to her wrist, stilling her.
“It’s all right,” she whispered at the shell of his ear. “I’ve got you.”
He let go.
When he came, it was quiet. Banked so tightly, she wondered if it physically hurt him. She continued to move her hand, but far more gently now. Releasing him wasn’t easy. She walked to the second sink, washed her hands then dampened a washcloth. She handed it to him. He didn’t say anything, or even look at her.
Feeling suddenly shy, she turned her back to him while she dressed. It felt weird to put on her jeans, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
When she turned around again, he was in everything but his shoes. “Boone?”
Finally, he looked at her. Straight on. With his elegant green eyes and his dark, thick lashes. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Thanks.”
He breathed in and out, his nostrils flaring slightly. Then he gave her that half smile of his. “We’re a team.”
She smiled back. “You bet.”
“I’m gonna do another quick check of the house. You want to come, or stay in here?”
“Come.”
“Let’s lock and load.”
HE WATCHED THEM,WISHINGhe could move the cameras so he could see her better. She was losing it. The blood had been a stroke of genius. And when he killed Boone in front of her eyes? That would be the crowning moment of his plan. She’d be his, then. And she’d do exactly as she was told.
THEY MOVED THE MATTRESS FROM the guest bed to the floor of the living room. Christie never left his side. When he went to the kitchen, there she was. When he ran his equipment around the front door, she stood patiently waiting, even though he knew she had to be exhausted. The physiological comedown from the shock of finding the blood would drain her of energy. Add to that the bath and the massage, and she should be out cold.
He was counting on that. He needed to look at his video, and he didn’t want to wait until morning. If there were any chance of identifying this asshole, he wanted it now.
He had to keep pulling himself back to the job, ignoring what had happened in the bathroom. It didn’t mean anything. She’d given him comfort, just as he’d given that to her. And it was done. Over.
The house checked out, although Boone didn’t have the same confidence in his equipment after the break-in. He just kept things low and slow, and if the geek was watching, he wouldn’t see anything Boone didn’t want him to see.
Unless there was some kind of camera Boone couldn’t detect in the bathroom. But then, even if it did give him the major wiggins, if the geek had watched them in there, so much the better. It would inflame him to make a move, to make a mistake. Which was not something he was going to share with Christie.
She finished putting the covers on the mattress while he got out a flashlight and set it where she could find it easily in the dark. Everything was done. All that was left was bed.
Jesus, it had been unbelievable with just her hand. What would it be like to have it all? To take what he really wanted?
No, no. Hold it, soldier. He’d gone into that bathtub to give her what she needed. Safety. Comfort. Relaxation. It hadn’t been about sex. He hadn’t even touched her in any sensitive areas.
He wasn’t used to this. Where he traveled, the way he lived, there was no safety. Very little comfort. And relaxation usually came after a lot more alcohol than he cared to admit. But he was responsible for this woman. For keeping her alive and well.
She made it awfully tempting, though. Even with her skinny legs and her tiny little wrists, she got to him. It hurt, how badly he wanted to squash that bug of a geek who was after her. In order to do that, he had to keep his eye on the prize. He had to get her ready, make her an ally, not a liability. He had to incite the geek to rage, to make him come into the trap. And he had to make sure he was on task 24/7.