Free Apache Nights by Sheri Whitefeather Page B

and steeped in pain. They made love like maniacs, and Kyle went off like a six-foot-four rocket.
    But he didn’t stop when it was over.
    He got his second wind and corrupted her, and himself, all over again.
    Â 
    At dawn, Joyce woke up alone. Daylight streamed through the sheers, spilling lavender hues across the bed. She sat up and dragged the sheet against her naked body.
    Kyle had left? Just walked out without even saying goodbye? She shouldn’t care. But she did.
    She glanced at the nightstand. The handcuffs and both sets of keys were there. She peered over the bed and noticed everything that belonged to him was gone, including the confetti of condoms.
    He’d taken his protection and hightailed it out of her apartment before she could fix him breakfast or seduce him or kick him out of bed herself.
    Damn him anyway.
    She stole a panicked glance at the vanity tablejust to be sure her gun wasn’t missing. Thank goodness. He hadn’t disappeared with her Glock.
    Joyce slipped on her robe and went into the bathroom. She looked around and noticed that Kyle had tidied up. He’d put the towels he’d dropped on the floor last night in the hamper. Of course, his travel-size toothbrush, which he’d conveniently brought with him, was gone. And so was the SpongeBob boat.
    For a man who lived like a slob, he was excruciatingly neat in someone else’s home. But that hardly mattered. She would have preferred that he’d said goodbye.
    Who cared if—
    Suddenly she heard footsteps sounding down the hall. She exited the bathroom, and her heart tripped, just once, before Kyle rounded the corner and nearly bumped into her.
    â€œI was just coming to check on you,” he said.
    Joyce didn’t respond. There he was, half dressed with his hair loose and his ruggedly square jaw in need of a shave.
    Finally she found her voice. “Where are the rest of your clothes?”
    He made a face at her. “In the closet.”
    â€œWhat about the toy car and Wolf Man?”
    â€œThey’re in the living room. I was playing with them.”
    She refused to soften her emotions, to imaginehim pushing around Barbie’s Volvo with a werewolf behind the wheel. The man was too damn weird for his own good. “Where are the condoms, the boat and your toothbrush?”
    â€œIn there.” He gestured to the bathroom.
    â€œThey are not.”
    â€œYes, they are. I put everything in the cabinet under the sink. I didn’t want you yelling at me for leaving my stuff sitting around.”
    â€œYou should have told me.”
    â€œYou were asleep.” He made another face. “What’s wrong with you? Did you start your period or something?”
    She smacked his bare shoulder. He was obsessed with PMS. “No, you big baboon. I thought you ditched me.”
    A grin crawled across his handsome face. “Before we did it again? Are you kidding? What kind of guy walks out on great sex?” He tugged on her robe. “Are you naked under that ugly thing?”
    She glared at him. She wanted to kiss him silly, but she hated to seem too anxious. “My robe isn’t ugly.”
    â€œOh, yeah? My grandmother has one just like it.”
    â€œThen your grandmother has taste.” She tightened the belt on the conservative terry-cloth wrap. “Go make some coffee while I get dressed.”
    â€œOnly if you promise to have sex with me. Today,” he added. “Before I go home.”
    â€œWe’ll see.” She turned her back on him and heard him grumble. But he left to brew the coffee anyway.
    Joyce brushed her teeth, washed her face and combed her hair, wishing he wasn’t so charming.
    She climbed into her clothes, wondering if she should make him wait a day or two. Just to prove that she wasn’t an easy lay. Of course, that would mean depriving herself, too.
    First things first, she decided. Coffee and breakfast.
    She entered the kitchen and found Kyle