Falling For Rachel - Stanislaskis 3 Part 13

"Yeah, top pocket." Nick racked up another ten thousand points while Cash lit up.

"Hey, I got a connection at this strip joint downtown. Could get you in."

"Yeah?" Nick answered absently as he sent the ball bouncing.

"Sure. I'd like to make that other business up to you. Maybe I'll drop by one night and we'll hang out."

"Forget it." "No, man, really. I'll spring for the brew, too. Don't tell me slippery LeBeck can't slip out."

"I can get out when I want. Just walk out the kitchen."

"Around the back?"

"Yeah. Zack's usually tied up at the bar until three. Two on Sundays. I can get around Rio when I want to, or take the fire escape."

"You got a place upstairs?"

"Mmm... Your ball."

When they switched positions, Cash continued to question him, making it casual. The cash went in a safe in the office. Business usually peaked by one on Wednesdays. There were three ways in. The front door, the back, and through the upstairs apartment.

By the time Nick had trounced him three games in a row, Cash had all he needed. He made his excuses and wandered out to meet with Reece.

He didn't feel good about conning Nick. But he was a Cobra.

Chapter Eight

Zack stepped out of the shower, grateful the endless afternoon was over.

He didn't mind paperwork. Or at least he didn't hate it. Well, the truth was, he hated it, but accepted that it was a necessary evil.

He'd made his orders, paid his invoices and tallied his end-of-the-month figures. Well, maybe he was a week or so behind the end of the month, but still, he figured he was doing pretty well. And so was the business.

It looked as though he'd finally pulled it out of the hole his father's illness and the resulting expenses had dug. Paying off the loan he'd taken to square things for Nick would pinch a little, but in another year he'd be able to do more than look at boats in catalogs.

He wondered how Rachel would feel about taking a month off and sailing down to the Caribbean. He liked to imagine her lying out on the polished deck, wearing some excuse for a bikini. He liked the idea of watching her hair blow around her face when it caught the wind.

Of course, he'd have to take some time to check the boat out, test the rigging. He thought he'd be able to talk Nick into a day sail, or maybe a weekend. He wanted the two of them to be able to get away-away from the bar, the city, and the memories that tied them to both.

With a towel slung around his hips, he walked to the bedroom to dress.

He hoped, sincerely, that the Sunday dinner at the Stanislaskis' would crack the kid's defenses a little more. Whenever Rachel spoke about her family, it made him think of what they-of what Nick-had missed.

All the kid needed was a little time to see how things could be. They were nearly halfway through the trial run, and apart from a few skirmishes, it had gone smoothly enough.

He had Rachel to thank for that, Zack thought as he tugged on a pair of jeans. He had Rachel to thank for a lot of things. Not only had she given him a second chance with Nick, but she'd added something incredible to his life. Something he'd never expected to have. Something he'd- On a long breath, he stared hard into the mirror. When a man was going down for the third time, he recognized the signs.

Don't be an idiot, Muldoon, he told his reflection. Keep it steady as she goes. The lady wants to keep it simple, and so do you. It wouldn't do to forget it.

"Hot date?" Feigning disinterest, Nick slouched against the doorjamb.

He'd been pa.s.sing and had caught the way Zack was staring blindly into the mirror.

"Huh? Yeah, I guess you could say that." Nick dragged a hand through his wet hair and scattered drops of water. "I didn't know you were back."

"I'm on at six." For reasons Nick couldn't understand, he was swamped by the memory of the times he'd stood in the bathroom watching Zack shave. How it had made him feel when Zack slapped shaving cream on his face.

"Rio's got beef stew on special tonight. Too bad you'll miss it."

Zack grabbed a s.h.i.+rt. "You take my share or Rio'll make me eat it for breakfast."

Nick grinned, then remembered himself and smirked. "You take a lot of c.r.a.p from him."

"He's bigger than I am."

"Yeah, right."

Watching Nick in the mirror, Zack b.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt. "He likes to think he's looking out for me. It doesn't cost me anything to let him. He ever tell you about how he got that scar down the side of his face?"

"He said something about a broken bottle and a drunk marine."

"The drunk marine was going for my throat with that broken bottle. Rio got in his way. The way I see it, I owe Rio a lot more than putting up with his nagging." Tucking in his s.h.i.+rt, Zack turned, grinned. "And you're getting paid to put up with it." "He's okay." Nick would have liked to ask more, like why a drunk marine had wanted to slice Zack's throat, but he was afraid Zack would just shrug it off. "Listen, if you get lucky tonight, don't worry about coming back."

Zack's fingers paused on the snap of his jeans. Tucking his tongue in his cheek, he wondered how Rachel would take his brother's turn of phrase.

"Thanks for the thought, but I'll be home."

"For bed check," Nick muttered.

"Call it what you want," Zack shot back, then bit off an o ath. Come h.e.l.l or high water, they were going to get through one conversation without raised voices. "Listen, I don't figure you're going to climb out the window. h.e.l.l, you could do that while I'm here. It could be the lady won't want company overnight."

Mollified, Nick hooked his thumbs in his pockets.

"They didn't teach you a h.e.l.l of a lot in the navy, did they, bro?"

In an old gesture they'd both nearly forgotten, Zack rubbed his knuckles over Nick's head. "Kiss my b.u.t.t." With his jacket slung over his shoulder, he headed out. "And don't wait up. I'm feeling lucky."

Long after the door shut behind Zack, Nick was still grinning.

Rachel was just unlocking the outside door when Zack strode up behind her. "Good timing," he said, and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

"For you, maybe. Everything ran over today. I was hoping to get back and soak in the tub before you got here."

"You want to soak?" The minute they were in the elevator, he had her against the wall. "Go ahead. I'll scrub your back." "What a guy." When his mouth closed over hers, it hurt, somewhere deep, reminding her just how much she'd wanted to be with him again.

"You smell good."

"Must be these." He pulled a paper cone filled with roses from behind his back.

Her heart wanted to sigh, but she resisted. "Another bribe?" She couldn't resist the urge to bury her face in the blooms.

"There was a guy selling them a couple of blocks down. He looked like he could use a couple bucks."

"Softy." She handed him her keys so that he could unlock her door and she could continue to sniff the roses.

"Keep it to yourself."

"It'll cost you." After kicking the door closed with her foot, she dumped her briefcase and laid the spray of roses on a table. "Pay up, Muldoon,"

she demanded, tossing her arms around him.

There was such joy in it. Heat, yes. And the sweet, sharp ache of need.

But the joy was so unexpected, so fast and full, that she laughed against his mouth as he twirled her around.

"I missed you." He continued to hold her, inches off the floor.

"Oh, yeah?" With her hands linked comfortably around his neck, she smiled. "Maybe I missed you, too. Some. How long are you going to hold me up here?"

"This way I can look right at you. You're beautiful, Rachel."

It wasn't the words so much as the way he said them that brought a lump to her throat. "You don't have to soften me up." "I don't know how to tell you how beautiful-except that sometimes when I look at you, I remember how the sea looks, right at sunrise, when all that color spills out of the sky, kind of seeps over the horizon and falls into the water. Just for a few minutes, everything's so vivid, so... I don't know, special. When I look at you, it's like that."

Her eyes had darkened with an emotion she couldn't begin to a.n.a.lyze.

All she could do was rest her cheek against his. "Zack." His name was a sigh, and she knew she would cry any minute if she didn't lighten the mood. "Roses and poetry, all in one day. I don't know what to say to you."

Enchanted, he buried his face in her hair. "That's a first."

"We're not going to get-"

"Sloppy," he finished for her, laughing. "Us? Are you kidding?" But when he sat on the couch, he kept her cuddled in his lap. "Let me see that bruise."

"It's nothing," she said, even as he tilted her head for a closer inspection.

"The worst of it was that the word got out and I had to deal with all this sympathy and advice. If those cops had kept their mouths shut, I could have said I'd walked into a door."

"Take off the jacket and sweater."

She arched a brow. "You're such a romantic, Muldoon."

"Can it. I want to see your neck."

"It's fine."

"Which is why you're wearing a sweater that comes up to your chin."

"It's very fas.h.i.+onable."

"Peel it off, babe, or I'll have to do it for you." Her eyes lit. "Ah, threatening a public official." After kicking off her shoes, she tossed up her chin. "Try it, Buster. Let's see how tough you are."

She didn't put up much of a fight, but the initial wrestling was enough to arouse them both. By the time he had her pinned to the couch, her arms over her head and her wrists cuffed in his hand, they were both breathing hard.

"I took it easy on you," she told him.

"I could see that." Her jacket was crumpled on the floor beside them.

Smiling, Zack began to inch her sweater upward, letting his fingers skim over the silky material beneath.

Her breath caught, and released unsteadily. "That's not my neck," she managed as his hand cupped and molded her breast.

"Just checking." Watching her, always watching her, he teased the nipple until it was hot and hard. "You're quick to the touch, Rachel."

His touch, she thought, trembling. Only his.

Slowly, determined to savor every moment, he slipped the sweater up.

He released her wrists to tug it off, then clasped them again.

"Zack."

He ignored her flexing hands. "My turn at the helm," he said quietly. "I told you once I wanted to drive you crazy. Do you remember?"

He was. He already was. "I want to touch you."

"You will." He skimmed a fingertip over her neck first, carefully studying the bruises. They were fading to yellow. "I don't want to see you hurt again." Gently he lowered his head to trail a necklace of kisses over the marks. "Not ever again." "It doesn't hurt." Her pulse jackhammered under his nuzzling lips. "I don't need to be seduced."

"Yes, you do. But you're afraid to be, which makes the whole idea d.a.m.n near irresistible. You're just going to have to trust me." He s.h.i.+fted so that he could unzip her skirt and slip it off. ''I have places to take you. '' His mouth lowered to hers, rubbing, then nibbling. "Strange, wonderful places." Then diving deep.

The journey wasn't calm, but she had no choice but to go where he took her. This eagerness for pleasure, this immediacy of need, was still so new that she had no defense against it. His hand slid over her, lingering here, exploiting there, while his mouth devoured hers with a relentless hunger.

No escape, she thought desperately as he brought her close, painfully close, to that first tumultuous release. She was trapped in him, utterly lost in a tangled maze of sensations. She writhed beneath his hand, too steeped in her own needs to know how deliciously wanton her movements were.

"I didn't have time to appreciate these last time." Zack trailed his fingers up the sheer stocking to the pristine white garter. She would think them practical, he knew. He thought them erotic.

With an expert flick of his fingers that had her moaning, he released one stocking, then the other, before tormenting them both by peeling them, inch by lazy inch, down her legs.