Free Reaction Time by Alannah Lynne Page B

Time
    She kept telling herself it should have felt wrong. She shouldn’t have liked the way his hands felt on her—and in her. She shouldn’t have gotten excited by his words and the way his eyes had devoured her. And she sure as hell shouldn’t want more.
    But she did. And now, having finally admitted it to herself, she wanted him with a desire bordering on obsession. God, she hated being such a freakin’ girl.
    How could she want someone so complex? He was demanding—no shit, he was a Dom—but he was also tender and compassionate. She’d felt safe with him and, although it had been hell to give up control, it had also been freeing.
    None of it mattered, though, because he didn’t want her in the same way. Although he’d indicated he wanted more than sex, she wasn’t even sure he wanted anything past this weekend.
    As the vise squeezed her chest tighter, “Back in Black” erupted from her cell phone.
    Oh shit! Three-thirty phone calls always meant bad news. She snatched up the phone from her nightstand. “What’s wrong?”
    Before Nate responded, Adam burst through her bedroom door. His dark hair was tussled around his head but his eyes were wide and alert. Was it wrong to take a small amount of pleasure in knowing he hadn’t been sleeping either?
    Nate, who never lost his cool, sounded frantic. “Amber’s sick and I don’t know what to do for her.” She heard moans and mumbling through the phone. “I mean horribly sick, Sis. You’ve gotta come over here.”
    “I’ll be right there,” she said, feet already on the floor. She relayed the information to Adam as she pulled on a pair of jeans, tore off her tank top and pulled on a T-shirt. Then realized she’d flashed him a shot worthy of a dozen strands of beads at Mardi Gras.
    Adam, who’d apparently been sleeping in his clothes, slid his feet into a pair of topsiders while Nikki crawled on hands and knees, pulling her flip-flops from under the chair in the salon.
    Her mother opened the bedroom door, confusion and concern flickering across her face. “Where are you going?”

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    Nikki stood and stuck her feet into the hot pink flip-flops and grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door. “Amber’s sick. We’re going to Nate’s.” Nikki gave her a quick hug. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be quiet when we come back in.”
    Her mother stood statue still through the hug, looking slightly shocked. “I should go with you,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor. She wrung her hands together and whispered, “This is terrible.”
    “We’re going on over,” Nikki said, as she pushed the door open. “You know where Nate’s coach is. We’ll see you there.”
    She had one foot on the top step of the motor home, the other about to follow when Adam gripped her arm. His expression was unreadable and he appeared to be carefully considering his words. Surely he wasn’t going to address their issues now. As Nikki’s patience reached its final inch he said, “You go on over to Nate’s. I’ll walk over with your mother.”
    Nikki frowned. He was being nice. Dammit, she didn’t want him to be nice. It made it too difficult to stay pissed, and she needed to stay mad in order to keep her distance.
    “Thanks,” she grumbled, then jumped down the steps and headed for Nate’s.
    By six a.m. they’d moved Amber to the track’s medical center and the track physician had started an IV and began giving her medications to stop her nausea and help her sleep. It appeared to be a severe case of food poisoning and the only thing to do now was keep her comfortable and hydrated.
    Nikki sat off to the side and watched Nate brush wisps of hair from Amber’s face and whisper words of affection to her. Thanks to the medication, she was finally sleeping peacefully, but Nikki knew on some level Amber heard him because she rolled her head to the side, putting them face-to-face.
    Even though his brow was creased and his