Nowhere Safe

CHAPTER 9



Josh parked on the side driveway of Trish Jackson’s modest frame home, a two-story structure in a quiet neighborhood that appeared to have been developed seventy years ago. A standout in South Florida where one-level concrete block structures from the fifties and sixties were so prevalent.

At the back corner of the house, a stairway ran up the side to a porch, the entrance to a second living space. Trish’s file indicated that her friend Heidi lived here too, so that must be her place.

Josh headed up the walkway, past blooming flowers, to the front door. He could imagine Trish down on her knees, digging in the dirt and planting. Enjoying herself. Maybe even smiling like she had in the file photo.

Getting a woman to smile was step one in getting closer to her. An easy step any man could do if he understood women at all.

But he hadn’t managed it yet with Trish….make that Patricia.

He couldn’t be that out of practice, right? He reached the three steps leading to her front door, where two concrete urns overflowed with red geraniums. This didn’t look like the home of someone willing to unleash deadly drugs on the world, but plenty of dangerous criminals lived in quaint homes.

He knocked on the door, expecting Trish to open it, polite, but rigid again.

Not for the door to fly open with her hiding behind it and saying, “Hurry up and come in. My dress is falling off.”

He took in her bare neck and shoulders covered in soft skin that sent his mind chasing the idea of her completely naked. His control slipped a notch until she hissed, “Jo-osh!”

She had her hand pressed against the top of silvery material covering her breasts. Not naked.

“Come on,” she urged. “I’m in a hurry.”

Stepping inside, Josh waited as she shoved the door shut. The rest of her was covered in a shimmering silver gown...that would look great pooled at her feet.

He silently shook himself out of horndog mode and said, “What’s wrong?”

“The zipper is caught and I can’t fix it.” She turned around and backed up to him.

Her entire back, down to her waist, was exposed.

Heat swirled around the collar of his tux, which was ridiculous. It was just a back. A beautiful sweep of sleek, in-shape, sexy back.

Her fingers clutched the zipper that had stopped just above a sweet pair of buns. She called over her shoulder, “Can you fix it or not?”

Blowing out a breath, he reached for the two sides of her dress. “Let me have it so I can see what’s wrong.”

There was only one way to fix it and that was to unzip from where the teeth had caught a piece of the material, then rezip. That required sliding one hand between the zipper and her back, just above her ass, so that he could hold the two halves together and work the zipper down with his other hand.

His knuckles brushed skin that was warm and smooth as thick cream. He gave a tug and the zipper came loose, sliding down quickly to the lacy edge of pink panties.

The spit dried up in his mouth

She tensed and made a little shivery sound.

Zero to hard in three seconds.

“Can you, uh, get it up?” she asked, breathless.

Is the Pope Catholic? If he got any more up at this point they’d both know how much he liked pink lingerie. He said, a little terse, “Be still.”

“It’s hard not to move,” she muttered.

And stop saying things that are making me harder. He hadn’t unzipped a woman’s dress in a long while and fought the battle not to finish this job and touch the rest of all that skin.

He eased the zipper pull back up slowly to prevent snagging the material again.

By the time he had the dress zipped at her lower back and the tiny hook clasp latched, Trish’s shoulders were moving up and down with quick breaths. Meaning she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she’d tried to appear at her shop today.

For the first time all day, Josh smiled. This was more like it. He leaned down close to her ear and whispered, “Need help with anything else?”

“No.” She practically jumped away and spun around, facing him. Her cheeks heated with two flags of red. Embarrassed. “Thanks for fixing that.” She seemed to finally notice him. “You look...nice.”

Her eyes said she liked nice. A lot.

See, Sabrina? I’ve got this just fine. “Happy to oblige any time. And you look amazing.”

She gave him an almost smile, something reserved and polite that a person used in mixed company or at family gatherings with inlaws. “Thanks. I’m ready to go.”

Reserved meant she’d mentally backed away from him again.

He had his work cut out tonight, but he was up for the task now that he’d seen her respond to his touch. There would be no walking away from her tonight until he’d torn down some of her walls and gotten inside her defenses.

He would accept nothing less than full surrender.