The Doctor + Four. Jacqueline Diamond

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СКАЧАТЬ him a sympathetic smile before sliding both hands beneath his waistband.

      Blissful agony swelled his groin. “Good grief, woman, do you realize what that does to me?”

      “I’m hoping to find out.”

      Barry raised her knit top to reveal the lacy curves of a bra. Grateful for front snaps, he opened it and bent to savor her breasts. She arched against the table for support.

      He raised his head. “Let’s find a more comfortable place.”

      “We might make it to the bedroom, if we’re lucky.” Catching his hand, she pulled him into the front room.

      They barely made it to the first carpeted step. She simply folded and Barry eased on top, lips seeking hers, both tugging at each other’s clothing. The hardest part was removing her jeans at the ankles, where a stubborn pair of jogging shoes formed a roadblock.

      From the slick, sweaty glow of their entwined legs to the flick of tongue on teeth, sensations brought Barry to the point of abandon. Enough of his brain still functioned for him to ask, “Are you on the pill?”

      “No. Sorry.”

      He fished for his wallet and extracted a condom he carried just in case. Sonya helped unroll it, teasing his erection until he nearly lost control. When she seized his hips and guided him inside, Barry closed his eyes and opened himself to a whole new world.

      Glaciers split apart. Beneath his heated thrusts, green shoots broke through the ice as he and Sonya connected.

      “It’s like flying,” she whispered.

      Barry wished he were a poet so he could tell her how much this meant. “Off the rim of the earth,” was the best he could do.

      She rode him from atop, skin exuding a hint of flowers. Joy spread into his marrow as the stairwell filled with her cries.

      Their ardor spent, they pretzeled against the steps. As normal sensation returned, Barry discovered a cramp in one leg and a hard ridge digging into his spine.

      “Where’s that bed?” he asked. “Or were you just putting me on?”

      “I kind of like it here.” She kissed his shoulder. “After tonight, this place will hold some of my fondest memories.”

      “What’s the medical term for a crick in one’s back?” he persisted.

      “Musculoligamentous strain.”

      When he laughed, a twinge shot through his ribs. Instinctively, Barry gave a jerk, and only quick action kept Sonya from skidding down to the floor.

      He caught her arm. “Definitely time to stretch out.”

      “I’m afraid so.” Ignoring the scattering of garments, she led him up. Splendid shape, Barry noted as he observed her derriere, and hoped he’d have occasion to make love to her again at leisure.

      A queen-size bed awaited in a room exploding with vivid hues. Although the sky through the window remained blue-black, Barry imagined he could detect the dawn of a new day.

      Perhaps he should postpone his flight to give them another few hours together, he reflected as they slid beneath the covers. They had a lot to talk about.

      He couldn’t seem to keep his lids open, though. Utterly at peace for the first time in years, Barry curved around Sonya and fell asleep.

      EVEN AFTER SHE OPENED HER LIDS, she wasn’t certain she’d been dreaming. It had seemed so real: the scream of metal, then searing pain. As she lay helpless on the pavement, Duke had loomed above, knife in hand. Two traumas merged into one terrifying scene.

      Emerging from the nightmare, Sonya didn’t recognize her surroundings. Only gradually did she begin to make sense of the familiar outlines of her bedroom, eerie in the moon glow through the window.

      A noise from the hallway alarmed her. Struggling to move, Sonya made the horrifying discovery that her muscles had locked in place.

      Her brain recognized that she must be suffering a form of sleep paralysis, which had happened a few times before. In minutes, it would vanish.

      She heard the whisper of footsteps across the carpet. Dear Lord, let this be a dream. But it didn’t feel like one.

      Abruptly, a male shape reared above her. Battling the paralysis, Sonya groped for the bedside phone. The receiver clattered off its base and fell.

      The bed dipped as the man sat. “Sonya?”

      She thought she’d heard that voice before. “Who…?” Couldn’t finish.

      “It’s me, Barry.” In the semidarkness, his silhouette loomed.

      Duke, cursing as he stabbed at her. “Don’t…” Terror made the word stick in her throat.

      “Bad dream?” His palm smoothed her forehead. Reassuring. Gentle. Yet her subconscious flashed a red alert.

      This was Barry, not Duke, Sonya told herself. The man who’d come to her aid last night, and made love to her. Why was she still so frightened, as if her subconscious was trying to send a warning?

      A fact surfaced. “You said…ex-con.”

      He answered warily. “That’s right.”

      “What…for?” She still found it hard to talk. Impossible to stir. She was almost as helpless as in her dream.

      “You mean what did they convict me of?” Barry asked tightly. “Murder.”

      Murder.

      Who had he killed—a girlfriend? Despite his easygoing veneer, she’d seen the violence with which he’d attacked Duke. If Barry lost his temper, she could imagine his powerful hands throttling whoever infuriated him. Perhaps regretting it afterward, too late.

      “Manslaughter, to be specific,” he went on. “I didn’t do it, but everyone says that, don’t they?”

      He seemed to expect a reply. Perhaps absolution. Did he take all women for fools?

      She’d had sex with the man. Yet what did she really know of him? He might have lied about being a reporter and invented the appealing tale of a sister and a family home.

      Last night, Sonya had been too overwhelmed by events to think clearly. What a vulnerable position she’d put herself in, bringing a convicted killer into her home.

      “Please leave.” Her voice trembled.

      “What?”

      “Get out!”

      “You’re having a delayed reaction to what happened yesterday,” he said. “Sonya, you don’t mean this.”

      She’d asked him to leave. And he’d refused.

      Shaking off the sleep-drugged sensation at last, she tumbled out of bed and gripped her robe. Stiff-legged and awkward, she pulled it on as she ran. СКАЧАТЬ