Maya Banks - No Place to Run

“Let’s get this over with. I want to get into that tub so bad, I’d crawl in fully clothed.”

He chuckled and slid the pants down until they gathered around her ankles. With a gentle tug they were gone, and he dropped them on the floor.

“I’m going to put you down and then we’ll get you out of your shirt.”

She gave a groan of protest when her feet hit the floor. She didn’t have it in her to stand. Fatigue edged out the pain by a ratio of at least ten to one. Pain had nothing on her desire to sleep. For a year. Pregnancy was exhausting enough. Add in running cross-country, taking multiple dips in the lake and avoiding assholes with knives and guns?

“I got you. Hold still. I’ll try not to move your arm too much.”

She stared straight ahead as he maneuvered the shirt from her body, and suddenly she was completely nude in front of him. She hated how vulnerable and naked she felt.

Dumbass, you are naked.

Thankfully he didn’t waste any time. As soon as she was free of her clothing, he turned to help her into the tub. She put one leg in and moaned as the hot water slid up her skin.

“Oh God.”

“That good huh?”

“Oh God yes. I’ve never had anything so good in my life.”

She gingerly sank down, holding on to his hand. Her body shrieked in protest, but she didn’t care.

The water lapped to her chin, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Oh sweet heaven.

Sam leaned down and gently tapped her chin until she opened her eyes again.

“Call me if you need me, okay?”

She nodded sleepily as the warmth swam intoxicatingly through her veins.

He turned to go, and she suddenly remembered what she’d wanted to ask him for.

“Sam?”

He turned, holding on to the door edge. “Yes?”

She shifted uncomfortably, seeking more of the water.

“Is there any way possible I could get some underwear? I hate to ask, but going without a bra sucks when you’re pregnant. I mean my boobs are huge now and they’re sensitive—”

She could see the very male shudder work over him. His eye practically twitched at the mention of underwear and bras.

“I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry.”

She smiled, feeling warmth that had nothing to do with bathwater flash over her. “Thank you.”

SAM stepped out of the bathroom and rubbed the back of his neck. Sainthood. He deserved sainthood. Not only had he stood in the bathroom with a very gorgeous, very naked woman, but he’d calmly discussed getting her things like a bra and underwear without batting an eyelash.

Give him bombs, grenades, blood, guts and gore, but bras?

Jesus.

Now, where the hell was he going to get her a bra?

“Hey, get her settled?”

Sam looked up to see Garrett and Donovan coming up the stairs. He grimaced. “Uh yeah. Sorta.”

Garrett gave him a look.

“She needs a bra. Something about pregnancy and big boobs and I sort of tuned out after that.”

Donovan’s chest heaved in silent laughter. The bastard.

“So get her one,” Garrett said.

Garrett almost pulled off that somber, stick-up-his ass look. Oh yeah, he was good, but Sam saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“There are three women in this house on a constant basis. Surely we can come up with a bra,” Sam muttered.

“Uh well Rusty and Rachel are smaller,” Donovan said, hedging. “Not that Sophie is like big or anything, but she’s bustier.”

It dawned on his brothers about the same time it did on Sam. Their faces contorted, and Garrett’s mouth flapped open and shut.

“Christ. That leaves Mom,” Sam said.

Garrett started backing away, hands out. “Oh no. Hell no. I’m not asking Ma for one of her bras. That’s just . . . wrong.”

Donovan looked like he’d swallowed a bug, and then both he and Garrett stared at Sam.

“Your woman. You do it.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Fuck that,” Donovan snorted.

“You pussies.”

“You go. We’ll pay for your therapy later,” Garrett said.

Sam turned in disgust and stalked away.

“You should probably know Ma’s not very happy with you right now,” Donovan called after him.

Sam turned. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Garrett and I filled her in. You know on the story. About how you knocked Sophie up, came home, then fished her out of the lake.”

Sam blew out his breath and turned his face up toward the ceiling. “Yeah, and I bet you really hated telling her all that, didn’t you?”

Garrett shrugged. “You can thank us later, man.”

Sam held up his middle finger and hurried down the stairs to face his mom.

SAM hovered near the bathroom door and checked his watch. She hadn’t called out, and he kept returning for fear he wouldn’t hear her when she did. He couldn’t decide whether to go in and check on her or wait it out.

The decision was taken from him when he heard her soft call filter through the door.

“Sam?”

He pushed in, hastily tossing the items his mom had given him on the counter. When he turned to her, he saw her drowsy eyes watching him. Her face was flushed with the steam from the bath, and her hair lay damply against her cheeks.

“You okay?”

She nodded slowly. “I tried to get out, but it hurt. I was afraid of falling.”

He frowned and moved forward. “I told you I’d help you. You ready to get out now?”

Again she nodded, and he reached down, sliding his arms into the water. His hand glanced off her lush bottom and then went to the tender flesh underneath her knees. He lifted, and the water rushed over her skin like silk. He was riveted to the sight of her swollen, lush body.

He stood her up long enough to get a towel around her. She glanced shyly up at him, her blue eyes sweet. Just like they’d been the first time he ever saw her.

He’d hated seeing her work in that dive. She was too young, too innocent to be exposed to the assholes who frequented the joint. Now he felt like an idiot, because after living with her father, the guys at the bar had to have seemed like Boy Scouts.

“I can dry myself,” she said after clearing her throat.

He turned to the counter and gingerly raised the bra with one finger. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it was the closest thing we thought would fit you. The uhm underwear, well as long as it doesn’t fall off . . . You could pull it up over your belly.”

Amusement twinkled in her eyes, but she smiled as if he’d just given her diamonds.

“Thank you. This will be perfect.”

She bobbled just a bit when she tried to step forward, and he picked her up and set her on the counter.

“It’s all that hot water,” he explained. “It’ll make you light-headed, especially when you’re pregnant. You probably shouldn’t have stayed in so long.”

She arched one golden brow at him. “How do you know so much about pregnant women?”

An uncomfortable prickle assaulted his neck. “I uhm must have read it somewhere.”

He turned right and then left and realized she was still trapped in her towel and she needed to get dressed.

There was a short knock at the door, and he scowled as he turned. He opened it just a crack so whoever was outside wouldn’t see in. Donovan stood there holding a pair of pants and a T-shirt. He thrust them toward Sam.

“Figured she’d do better if she wasn’t running around in just Ma’s bra and underwear.”

There was a hint of a grin on Donovan’s lips, and Sam glared a giant hole through his head.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Any time.”

He grinned again and then sauntered off.

Sam called him a few choice words and retreated into the bathroom, where Sophie was still perched on the counter, the towel gripped tight at her chin.

The towel split just at her belly, and he was afforded a tiny glimpse of the gentle mound that shielded his child. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it a couple of times already. It was the way just a hint showed from the protective confines of the towel.

Careful so as not to spook her, he slowly dipped his hands into that little part and pushed the towel aside so that more of her belly was bared.

“Sam?”

His name came out breathless. A little hesitant. A little nervous. But there was no fear in her voice.

“Let me see her, Soph. I want to see my daughter. One moment where it’s just us. No distractions. No danger. Just you and me and our child.”

Her hand loosened its grip on the corner of the towel, and finally she dropped it altogether. The material fell away, baring her breasts and her belly. Even the delicate, feminine V of her legs, with the soft, silvery blond wisps of hair, was visible.

It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Here on this counter, Sophie bruised and battered, her hair wet and fatigue pulling at her eyes. Was there a more beautiful sight than a lushly pregnant woman?

He couldn’t resist touching her. The tips of his fingers brushed along the tops of her thighs, around to her hips and finally up and over the tautness of her abdomen. As they gathered at her center, her belly dipped and jerked.

He drew away, stunned. “That was her!”

Sophie’s face lit up like a million candles. “Yes. That’s her.” Her own hand came to cradle her belly, and she rocked back and forth as though she was sitting in a chair soothing her baby.

Drawn by a power he didn’t understand, Sam lowered his head, inch by inch until his lips were just a breath away from that tiny little pitter-patter. He pressed his mouth in the gentlest of kisses even as he palmed both sides of Sophie’s belly to hold her in place.