Deadly Games - Cate Noble [47]
Rocco sighed and got pretzels and oatmeal cookies.
Back in the room, he emptied the Walmart bags on the bed and began cutting tags off her clothing. Gena poked her head out of the bathroom.
“Oh, you’re back,” she said.
“Gee, try to contain your enthusiasm.”
“I mean, I need clothes. Would you hand me a pair of jeans and a shirt?”
“Uh, oh. We forgot to get pajamas, didn’t we?”
“We? Um, I forgot to buy them, yes.”
And I don’t own any, Rocco thought. He picked up a pair of the stiff denim jeans they’d just purchased.
“You’ll be miserable sleeping in these. How about I lend you a shirt to sleep in? It’ll fit you like a knee-length tent.”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. “Fine. But I want to get PJs tomorrow.”
He rifled through his rucksack, pulled out a black T-shirt, and handed it to her.
She grimaced as she took it from him. As if the thought of wearing something of his revolted her. If it bothers you that much, sleep naked, he thought.
But when she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he did a double take. Couldn’t help himself. What should have been a big, baggy turnoff had never looked hotter. His shirt dwarfed her frame, making her look even tinier. Except for her breasts, which were anything but tiny and made an indentation that shirt had never known.
He turned away, in part to hide his erection. Couldn’t help that either. He grabbed a pair of his own jeans and his shave kit. “I’ve got dibs on the bed closest to the door. There’s soda, ice, and some snacks. Help yourself.”
“You said you wanted to be on the road early. Do we need a wake-up call?” She had moved to her bed and was flipping back the spread.
Rocco’s internal clock would wake him, but Gena had never been one to spring out of bed without smacking the SNOOZE button a couple of times. “Suit yourself.”
“Where’s the remote for the TV?” she asked.
“Check in the nightstand drawer.” At the bathroom door, he hesitated, concerned about leaving her alone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said when he peeked around the corner.
She was already under the covers, and looked— Don’t go there. He moved away. “I won’t be long.”
In the bathroom, Rocco eased his jeans down over his erection. Seeing Gena wearing his shirt hadn’t helped. Thinking of her naked beneath it hadn’t helped either.
He climbed in and turned the shower on. The blast of cold water did the trick. Until he picked up her bottle of shampoo and flipped the lid. “Night Jasmine,” the label read. That it smelled like her had his cock hardening again.
He set the shampoo aside. “Hope I don’t run out of cold water.”
When Rocco came out of the bathroom, he found Gena sound asleep, the remote clenched in her hand, the television tuned to a twenty-four-hour news channel.
Moving without sound, he checked the door locks and turned off all the lights except the one in the bathroom, which sent out a sliver of light. Then he slipped the remote free of her grasp and lowered the volume slightly. He left the news on, not wanting to disrupt her sleep if he switched channels or turned off the TV.
He felt tired. Though he hadn’t been through the same ordeal as Gena, he was going on seventy-two hours with minimal sleep. If he didn’t get some decent rest, he’d be no good protecting anyone.
Shirtless, he left his jeans on and climbed into bed. While he preferred to sleep nude, he had slept in his clothes plenty of times, under much worse circumstances. He watched the news through slitted eyes and was just about to roll over when he became aware that Gena’s breathing pattern had changed.
In the time it took him to toss back covers it changed again. She started writhing as if in physical pain, alternately crying and then sobbing.
Rocco knew she wasn’t having an ordinary nightmare. Night terrors were a thousand times worse. They sucked you down, into the darkest abyss of hell. Made you aware of feeling trapped but unable to escape or awaken.
During his first deployment