Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

February 8 th

7:12 P.M.

Allowing Miguel to touch her didn't seem wise.

Especially since Ella knew what kind of man he was and the kind of relationships he had with women.

Crushing on him for the last couple of weeks, there was a reason why she hadn't approached him that went beyond the terrible timing and her fear for her friends and the drug they had created together.

They were too different.

She wanted marriage and a family, Miguel wanted fun and no commitments.

Neither of them was right, and neither was wrong, they just didn't want the same things. Ella knew she was vulnerable right now, with too many emotions and no appropriate outlet. Allowing a man who had saved her life, who had believed in her, who had come to check on her even though he barely knew her, to touch her and comfort her, was asking to get her heart broken.

The problem with believing in dreams coming true was that you looked for those answers everywhere.

Only this time, she already knew that Miguel was not the answer.

Still, even knowing that, she craved more of his touch as his hands worked their way up her calves, massaging the weary muscles and drawing a small content sigh from her lips.

It felt so good to have someone there taking care of her.

She hadn't really wanted to be alone, she just didn't have anywhere to turn. With her family unaware of all that had happened, and the distance between her and her friends, there was no one else.

Until there was.

Until this man showed up seemingly determined to stand by her side.

“Here, sit up. Let me do your shoulders,” Miguel’s voice rumbled as his large hands circled her wrists and tugged her up.

Shifting her so she was perched on the edge of the couch between his spread knees, he began to work out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Each firm stroke of his fingers eased some of the tension, released another string tying the heavy burdens to her back, and strengthened the connection she felt toward the man who had shown her kindness even when he had no reason to believe in her.

When his hands finally dropped, Ella mewed a protest, making Miguel chuckle.

“Why don’t you head up and take a nice hot shower? I’ll make you something to eat, and then you can head to bed.”

“Come with me.” The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them, but even once they were out there Ella felt no desire to pull them back.

“Upstairs?”

“In the shower,” she clarified, willing him to understand without her having to say it so blatantly.

This wasn’t her. She didn't use sex as a Band-Aid for her problems. Yet she had never wanted a man more than she wanted the one staring at her like she’d suddenly grown an extra head. It was a craving that ran deep, he was the only one who had believed in her, and he’d saved her over and over again.

She needed him.

Needed him to help her forget for just a little while all that had happened to her.

“Ella, honey, we can't. Not after what you’ve been through. I'm not going to take advantage of you,” Miguel said gently.

“It’s not taking advantage if it’s what I want,” she assured him.

Sex didn't have to be a big deal. Just because for her it was usually a way to express intimacy with the person she had feelings for didn't mean it always had to be that way. It could be just sex. It could just be about her and Miguel, here tonight, no worries about the future, no plans, no strings, nothing.

Just the two of them.

Just a human connection when she felt so very isolated and alone.

Just a moment to forget the horrors that had infiltrated her mind and were seeping down into her soul, infecting it with a disease she would never be able to completely recover from.

“I don’t mean to sound condescending, honey, but I don’t think you're in a position to be making choices about anything big right now, and sex is a big decision.”

With his thoughtful words and determination to still look out for her, even if it meant turning down sex because he wanted to do the right thing, it was only making her want him more.

Was it so wrong of her to need just a tiny break from the disastrous mess her life had become?

If it was only about forgetting then she might feel bad for trying to use Miguel, but it ran deeper than that. She didn't want sex with a random man, she wanted it with someone she trusted, someone who made her feel like she wasn’t completely alone.

She wanted sex with Miguel.

“Please don’t make me beg,” she whispered, averting her gaze because she knew if she spotted an ounce of rejection, it would break her.

“How about a compromise?”

That sounded too close to rejection for Ella’s liking.

Fingers caressed her cheek before gently grasping her chin and angling her head so she was looking over her shoulder with no choice but to meet Miguel’s dark eyes.

“I like sex, Ella. I like no strings attached sex which I think is what you're trying to offer me here, but I don’t think it’s what you like. I don’t want to be something you regret in the morning. Especially when you feel like you don’t have anyone on your side right now, and I think you trust me to be there for you.”

“I do,” she whispered, unable to break eye contact now it had been established. Something about this man drew her in like a moth to the flame. Ella knew she was going to wind up getting burned yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Then we compromise. You let me make you feel good if you're certain that’s what you want but no sex.”

If she couldn’t feel the bulge in his pants, then she might have thought he wasn’t interested in her, but that clearly wasn't the case. He was attracted to her, and she hoped he was just trying to be noble and there was nothing more to it.

“Are you only agreeing to touch me because you feel sorry for me?” she asked. Normally, Ella wouldn't be so forward. She wasn't shy but wasn't overly confident in herself either.

“Hell no,” he said vehemently. “I feel bad for everything you had to go through and for what would have happened if I hadn't found you in the jungle. But I don’t pity you. You're too strong to deserve anyone’s pity.”

“I don’t feel strong, Miguel,” she said softly. “I feel … empty. Take me upstairs and make me feel something else, please. I need you.”

Something sparked in his eyes.

Something that looked a lot like disappointment and shame.

But he hid it quickly, and then the next thing Ella knew she was being swept up into a strong pair of arms. Despite having seen this man in action, seen him kill, seen him take blow after blow, she found a softness to him that she liked even more than his strength.

In her bathroom, Miguel set her on her feet. After pressing a tender kiss to her forehead—a kiss that almost brought her to her knees because it was every bit the sweetness and connectedness she needed right now—he grabbed the hem of her Oodie and pulled it over her head.

Next, he grabbed the waistband of her leggings and panties and eased them down her legs. When she stepped out of them, she was left completely naked before him and the embarrassment she thought she should feel was absent. All she felt around Miguel was comfortable.

Fingers fumbling in her hair, he was able to untie the band holding her hair in a bun and it tumbled free, hanging around her shoulders in long, blonde locks.

“Much better,” he murmured as he ran his fingers through her hair and then framed her face, his palms warn and rough against her cheeks. “Almost as beautiful as you are strong,” Miguel said with a wink before leaning in to brush his lips across hers.

Then he was gone, opening the glass door to her walk-in shower and leaning over to turn on the faucets before stripping out of his clothes, leaving him gloriously naked. She’d seen men who looked like him before, worked with a whole bunch of them, but usually when she dated it tended to be fellow musicians. It never worked out because, in the end, they wound up jealous of her talent even though she gave only a handful of concerts a year and her music wasn't the center of her life.

Seeing Miguel now, his wide chest, his chiseled abs, the bulging muscles of his arms, it was like looking at one of those marble statues sprung to life. Most impressive was his length that stood rock hard and at attention.

It was so irresistible that when Miguel reached her for and guided her into the now steamy shower, Ella couldn’t resist stroking her fingertips along it.

“Babe,” Miguel groaned, making her grin as the nightmare of the last few days slipped out of her mind.

“What?” she asked innocently, stepping under the spray.

“This is about you. Me touching you, no sex.”

“I can touch you, too, that isn’t sex,” she sassed back, feeling strong and powerful in this moment with this gorgeous man beside her. She knew what he’d been about to sacrifice for her, knew what effects the drug Raul Castillo wanted to give him would have, and she wanted to show how much she appreciated everything he’d done for her.

Besides, he was the one who’d made the no sex rule, not her.

She was all for as much touching, as much pleasure as they could give one another before the clock struck twelve, and like Cinderella, she had to go back to her regular life and face all her problems all over again.

“You're all sugar on the outside and spice on the inside, aren't you?” he teased as he reached for the shower massager. Just the sight of it in his hand, as he fiddled with the settings, had her bud beginning to throb in anticipation.

It had been a while since she’d had a boyfriend, almost a year, and while she wasn't averse to a little solo play, she rarely had time. It had probably been six months since her last orgasm and her body felt like it was wound up so tightly it wasn't going to take much to make her snap.

“Come here,” Miguel ordered, positioned her under the spray so her palms were pressed against the tiles, then nudged her legs apart so he could drag a fingertip along her center.

When that same finger circled her entrance before slipping inside, Ella moaned, greedily pushing her hips back to seek more.

Miguel just chuckled and stroked deep, managing to angle things just right so he brushed across the spot inside her that made a tingle ripple out across her body. Then he was crowding against her back shifting the shower head so the water pulsed against her bundle of nerves as another finger joined the first inside her.

Pressed as he was against her, Ella could feel the hard ridge of his erection, and as pleasure began to build inside her she reached back and grasped his length. His giving her something and her not being able to return the favor felt wrong, it felt too much like using him. This man might be little more than a stranger, but he felt like something else, something more.

There was a connection there, it was the only way to explain how he’d been able to look past everything screaming she was guilty to see something else was going on. It was the only way to explain how she felt comfortable and at ease with him, even after what she’d been through.

“You don’t have to, El,” he whispered in her ear.

“I want to,” she assured him, warmth settling in her chest at his constant need to ensure she was all right. She wasn't, but in this moment, with him, there in her shower, she was.

With each stroke of her hand up and down his length, and each thrust of his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her, the pleasure inside her grew. Bigger and stronger, it filled her until she felt so close to bursting that she whimpered, needing something to push her over the edge.

When lips pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, Ella shattered.

The unrelenting pounding of the water against her bud seemed to make her orgasm last forever and she clung to this beautiful moment, treasuring it, wanting it to never end.

A grunt from behind her told her that Miguel had also come, and she felt the stickiness of his release on her hand. She wanted to take that release, absorb it, make it part of her, and use it somehow to make Miguel stay.

Because one thing she was certain of in the giant storm of uncertainness her life had become was that Miguel wasn't sticking around. It was a silly thing to be worried about, given everything else she had on her plate, but the idea of Miguel leaving made her feel almost sick with loneliness.

February 9 th

5:33 A.M.

Something warm tickled his skin, stirring him from sleep.

Miguel blinked open heavy eyes, not immediately realizing where he was.

Years in the military meant he usually woke up instantly and completely. If you were in the field even losing a couple of seconds could mean the difference between life and death, so you learned pretty quickly to snap from sleep mode to awake mode in the blink of an eye.

Thankfully, this morning it didn't matter that his brain woke groggily, taking a moment to put all the pieces together because he was curled up in Ella’s bed.

In Ella’s bed .

Shock had him jerking sideways, rolling to his feet, and staring down at the woman still sleeping, tucked beneath the blankets.

What was he doing falling asleep with Ella in his arms?

That was not the way to keep distance between them. Being her friend didn't mean he had to climb into bed with her.

Only …

She’d asked him to.

Seemed he was powerless to say no when it came to this woman.

Getting in the shower with her was a crazy move when he wanted to stop himself from getting emotionally invested. Attraction was one thing, it was okay for his body to crave her, to want to sink inside her, feel her come around him, and touch and taste every inch of her delectable body. It was even okay to want to be her friend, to make sure she was okay, to be there for her, and offer her the support she needed when she felt adrift and alone.

But making out with her in the shower was only going to make him crave her more.

Still, when she’d looked up at him with her big green eyes, every drop of pain she was feeling shining brightly, and asked if he pitied her, he’d felt this awful clawing feeling in his gut. A need he couldn’t even begin to explain.

Ella was hurting and he had to make it stop.

That was all he’d been able to register.

So he’d soothed her fears, telling her quite honestly that he didn't pity her. His only reservations were that she would regret it in the morning and the thought of her resenting him didn't sit well with him.

His other reservation was that he was already getting more invested than he should.

It was too late to worry about that now, though.

He’d touched her, made her come all over his fingers, felt her hands on him.

Not that he’d stopped there.

After the shower, he’d dried her off, helped her get dressed then carried her back downstairs to feed her. Carrying her had just been so she didn't have to walk on her feet when he knew they had to be bothering her. Definitely not because he just liked the feel of her slim body in his arms.

Definitely not.

At least if he was lying to himself.

When he’d made sure she’d eaten a decent meal he had intended to leave so she could get some rest. People were watching her house so he knew she was safe and if he stayed any longer he knew it would be even harder to walk away from her once the mole was caught and she was able to find her footing again.

Then she’d asked him to hold her while she fell asleep.

She’d looked so sweet, so innocent, so unsure of herself. He could tell it had taken all the courage she had left to ask. It was hard to ask for help when you needed it, and he respected that she’d twice been able to ask him to give her what she needed.

He’d been helpless to say no.

His intention had been to lay there until she fell asleep and then slip out of the bed and spend the rest of the night in her spare room or on the couch in her living room.

Only as soon as he had her in his arms, he’d been unable to move, and he must have wound up falling asleep holding her. There was just something about this woman he couldn’t seem to walk away from. She was strong and determined, she cared about the people she loved, she was loyal and intelligent, and sweet and innocent even despite the world she knew existed through her work at Prey.

Ella Whitlock was the whole package, only he wasn't looking for a package to keep.

If Miguel thought there was any way he could keep things casual with Ella, maybe even hook up with her a few times without feelings getting in the way then he’d go for it.

That could never happen though.

He was already catching feelings.

Feelings he couldn’t afford himself.

Not if he wanted to protect Ella and keep her safe.

And he did. There was no way he would allow his personal demons to infect someone so sweet and pure. Someone who had already been through so much and had even more she would have to deal with once the full impact of everything that had happened sunk in.

Maybe if she hadn't traipsed off to Mexico, ready to sacrifice herself to save everyone else, he might have given in to the attraction he had been sure wasn't one-sided, but not now.

Now Ella needed him to be strong.

Needed him to keep things in perspective.

Hurting her was out of the question, and if he allowed himself to get in any deeper, he risked falling for her for real. Allowing those feelings he was already catching to develop into something he wouldn't be able to ignore.

If that happened and he and Ella fell for one another, and he lost the tight grip he retained on his addiction, he would drag her down with him. Knowing he had destroyed something so bright and good would also destroy him, and he’d tumble further and further down into the addiction hole until he was in so deep that he’d never be able to climb out again.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair off her cheek. Her hair felt like silk, and her cheek like the softest satin. Staying there would be so easy, allowing himself to fall for her would be much easier than he thought it would be.

All his life he’d found it easy to maintain an emotional distance between women that weren't part of his family.

Until one woman stood before him in the jungle, shaking and crying, lying to him to get away because even though she’d come mere seconds away from being raped she was determined to follow through with her plans.

“Miguel?” Ella asked, voice husky with sleep as she blinked and shifted so she was looking up at him.

This was it.

Time to break his own heart to protect a woman he’d never expected to fall for. But he was falling, and this was the only way to protect Ella. Given enough time, he’d wind up hurting her, he was sure of it, positive that sooner or later genetics would catch up with him and he’d wind up like the deadbeat dad who abandoned him or the druggie mom who lived only for her addiction and not her two little boys.

“Sorry, El, I have to go,” he said softly. Miguel wasn't a monster, he knew that Ella was floundering right now, felt all alone, and he had no intention of telling her he would be there for her only to then bail.

He’d be there. He’d just have to do it more carefully.

No more shower playtimes, no more coming over and hanging out for hours, and definitely no more climbing beneath the covers and holding her in his arms all night long while he slept the sleep of the dead.

“You're leaving?” The vulnerability in her voice about undid him. Had him rethinking everything, doubting himself.

Only there was no room for doubts.

Just facts.

Facts were, he came from two parents who were addicts. Facts were, he’d had his own battle with addiction. Facts were, it was a daily battle for him to keep those urges under control. Facts were, he worried constantly that something might happen to send the house of cards he had so carefully constructed from falling down around him.

If his life fell apart and he was the only one impacted he could deal with that, but not if he took Ella down with him.

“Yeah, honey, got to go catch up with my team.”

Giving him a tremulous smile, she nodded. “I appreciate you coming over last night, Miguel. I appreciate … everything. The shower, the food, you taking care of me, holding me even though I know you weren't real comfortable getting into bed with me.”

That she didn't beg him to stay even though she obviously wanted him to was just another reason for him to like her.

Another reason for him to have to get out of there.

Ella was too perfect, he couldn’t be the one to corrupt her.

“I put my number in your phone last night, call or text if you need anything. I mean it, Ella, I’ll drop everything and come right over.” Not an exaggeration. Just because he couldn’t let things develop more than they already had didn't mean he wasn't all in when it came to supporting Ella through this mess the mole had thrust her into.

When she shot him a brilliant smile, Miguel was struck by the thought that he was already fighting a losing battle.

He was falling for this woman, and if he couldn’t stop it from happening then he could be the straw that broke the camel’s back and wind up being the cause of Ella’s life imploding.