In Over Her Head
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You have to remember, I’m the only Mer we know of with two legs. There haven’t exactly been many studies. And the Mers who have left the sea haven’t been successful at it. I mean, sure, I’ll take a risk as soon as the next guy, but the unknown factor on this didn’t make it worth it.”
“Yet you still brought us to a beach.”
“I didn’t have much choice. So if this transformation sticks, and I can’t go back in the water, it’s not really going to matter what The Council decides, is it? At least I’m alive.” And with you. But he didn’t say it. He took a bite of the pineapple. The juice was sweet on his lips, although his tongue felt like he’d been licking one of the palm fronds. The crunchy rind got stuck in his teeth.
“You eat the rind?” she asked.
“Don’t you?” He took another bite. She couldn’t eat all of those by herself, could she? And she did say there were more where these came from. He was going to gorge himself in that grove. Aside from her lips, he didn’t know if he’d ever tasted anything so good.
“Boy, Reel, I can see I’ve got a lot to teach you about Humans.”
He swallowed the next mouthful. “Here’s hoping it’ll just be extraneous knowledge I’ve collected and not an intro to a new lifestyle. But what a bonus this is.” He held up the pineapple. “I can have this whole one, right?
You weren’t planning on sharing it?”
She laughed, those Caribbean blues sparkling. He liked seeing her happy, even if it was at his expense.
“You can have it. But at least let me show you how to eat it. The inside is the best part.”
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Coconut-tree-grappling put on hold, they walked back to camp, their banter light and cheerful, as if she’d put the fact that they were stranded on a deserted island out of her mind.
He couldn’t. Hades, it was all he could think about. He and Erica. Alone.
With his legs back—that one sticking point she’d had last night.
But not him. Mer or Human, he enjoyed being with Erica any way he could. Wanting to hear her laugh, watch the way her eyes lit up and the bounce in her step when she was happy, the way her shoulders tightened when determined, the strength she showed even when faced with her greatest fears. All the little nuances to her…
The way she sighed in her sleep. The slant to her chin when she challenged him. The way she gasped when aroused—
Oh, Hades, he had it bad. He better watch out, or he’d be spouting every sonnet known to Mer-kind. That kiss—Erica—had churned his world in a way no whirlpool ever had.
If his father could see him now, Fisher would think someone had knocked his son on the head with a hunk of coral—no longer the dissolute joker Fisher thought he knew.
And whose fault was it Fisher thought that in the first place? It wasn’t as if he’d tried to let his father in on what made him tick after those first few years. But, for Apollo’s sake, you’d think the Mer would know his own son.
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coconut husk, and his arms would be sore from working the sticks, but he could see the attraction of having the warmth of sunlight on your skin whenever you wanted. But nothing was better for warmth than body heat. Erica placed slices of the plantains she’d found onto a thin rock at the edge of the fire.
“What’s that for?” He’d rather eat the fruit than offer it to the gods, but if that’s what Humans did…
“They’re good cooked. Especially with this.” She held out a long green reed.
“Sea grass?”
“No. Sugarcane. This island must be in the flight path of every tropical bird. Plantains, sugarcane, coconuts, pineapples, mangoes… we could stay here forever with this kind of food.”
Forever? Here?
With Erica, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Hades, he’d known some of what The Council would do when he’d turned her. He’d known he was taking on a commitment. But he’d had no choice.
Now, he had one. Stay here with her or go back in the water.
At least… he hoped he had that choice. He looked out to sea where Krak had settled in for the evening, his body lying transverse to the inlet. Ol’ Lump and Hump might be low on the evolutionary chain, but he knew enough to hang out at the outer edge to feel any vibrations in the water if they tried entering the surf on this coastline. Reel scratched his knee. He should explore the island first thing in the morning to find a place they could slip into the water undetected. Otherwise, heading back out to sea could be suicide.
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If there was one thing this time with Erica had taught him, it was that life meant something. His life meant something.
He’d been looking at her that way again. All day. As if she didn’t already know what was on his mind. Hers too, if she were honest.
No man should look that great in a skirt. It defied the laws of gender. Though Mel Gibson had looked damn good in a kilt…
Still, Reel was too appealing for her own good. And her subconscious was all over the fact that he had his legs back.
As the little bit of liquid Reel had squeezed from the cane sizzled on the hot rock, bubbling up against the plantains and turning the air sweetly heady, Erica admitted her own headiness could be attributed to the half-naked man walking toward her, carrying a palmfrond basket he’d crafted. The sunset backlighting him, orange tendrils bled across the horizon, bathing the beach in the shadowy dance of approaching dusk. She couldn’t miss the flash of skin between the braids of his kilt. She’d tried to overlap them, but every time he’d bent over today, sinewy thigh had made an appearance. A few times, she’d gotten a glimpse of tight butt cheek. His chest, of course, was exposed all the time. You’d think she’d be used to the sight of his swimmer’s torso, but no. Now, skirt or not, there was no denying he was one very healthy, virile, sexy man. And she was stranded on a deserted island with him. Facing a lifetime under the sea.
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It was a no-brainer really.
Reel kicked into a run, and the combination of the enjoyment on his face and the grace with which he moved wouldn’t allow her to look away. She dabbed at the perspiration on her forehead. The fire. That’s what had made her sweat.
She took a sip of coconut water to cool off, but when the lip of the shell obstructed her line of sight, she put it down. She wasn’t going to miss any of the show. As he got closer, Reel’s dimples were deeper than ever, his green eyes flashing like polished emeralds under a spotlight.
“Erica, look what I found. What a catch!”
He wasn’t kidding.
She stood, pulling her hair over her shoulder and blotting the back of her neck. She poured the remaining coconut water down her throat and did a totally unladylike back-of-the-hand-across-the-mouth thing.
“Check these out.” He held the basket in front of him with a half dozen crabs climbing over each other inside. But that wasn’t what she was checking out. Damn, he looked good. The sun had darkened his skin, making his eyes glow, little white lines at the corners crinkling when he smiled. His hair was a tousled bed-head that had her fingers itching to run through it, and the slick sheen of perspiration gracing his chest wove its own magic around her.
“You like crabs, right? Even though the French eat them?”
She laughed. “Yes. I do. Where’d you get them?”
Reel nodded over his shoulder. “At the shoreline.”
“The shoreline? Are you crazy? Kraken could have surged onto the beach and gotten you.”
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“But he didn’t.”
“But he could have.”
“Why, Erica, would it matter if I were to die a horrible death at the hands of a sea monster?”
He went for mock surprise, but she didn’t find it amusing. “Cut it out. It’s not funny. If he’d caught you, you’d be dead. Or worse.”
“What could be worse than dead?”
She threw out her hands. “Oh, I don’t know. Half-dead. Injured. And I might not be able to take care of you.”
“Oh, I think you could.”
God. The thought of him with his body torn, bleeding… she’d seen him injured and unconscious in Ceto’s prison and it had scared her. If Kraken hadn’t come along and changed the immediacy of the situation, who knew how long she would’ve obsessed over his condition, worried about something getting them—
“But what if I couldn’t help you, Reel? You’d die and I’d end up stranded here all by myself, and, as you said, The Council could get to me. What would I do then?”
“And here I thought it was because you care.”
“You’re such the kidder, Reel. Aren’t you ever serious? You could have been killed.”
“Serious? You bet I am. Like right now.” He dropped the basket and the crabs went scrambling to safety. Erica didn’t have the same chance. The next thing she knew, Reel scooped her in his arms and carried her back to their camp.
“Reel?”
“Shh. Don’t spoil it, Erica. I’ve seen your kind do this, and now I’ve got the opportunity.” He kicked the palm fronds aside and sank to his knees in the sleeping InOverHerHead.indd 264
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pit. “You want serious? I’ll give you serious. This is a much bigger gesture on land than it is in water.”
“And why are you trying to make a big gesture?” Her eyes were caught in the swirling depths she saw in his.
“Do I need to spell it out for you, sweetheart? Last night you said you couldn’t. That it was the tail holding you back.” He brought her face to his, the warmth of his breath caressing her skin. “I don’t have a tail, Erica.”
Her breath hitched. “I realize that.”
He lowered her to the sand, following her down, bracing himself on his hands. Close, but not close enough. “So there’s no impediment, right?”
He was asking permission? Well, hell, why’d he have to go and do that? That made it firmly her decision. No swept-up-in-the-moment sort of thing. She wished he’d just kiss her and make the decision for both of them. Didn’t she?
No, she did not. She was woman, hear her roar. She wasn’t Erica the Inept any longer. She was in charge of her destiny.
And destiny awaited, if she had the courage to grab it by the tai… er, take advantage of it.
“No. No impediment whatsoever.” Her hands stole to his belt. “Well, other than this.”
His smile slid to sexy and her toes curled. One look and that happened? Whoa. She was in for it. She couldn’t wait.
He sat back and undid the buckle.
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She traced the line of his hip with her fingers up to his ribs before she couldn’t reach any higher and let out a frustrated little sigh.
Reel smiled and captured her fingers, dragging them to the other part of the belt. “Would you like to do the honors?”
She couldn’t talk. Her mouth had gone dry and it was all she could do to swallow. But she could nod. She nodded.
His stomach tightened as she slid her fingers against his skin beneath the waistband, which only he was holding up, and pushed it aside.
“Thank gods,” he whispered, his cock long and hard, the tip glistening. “Those palm fronds are sharp. You might have to kiss it and make it all better.”
She gulped.
“What’s the matter, Erica?” he laughed softly.
“Catfish got your tongue?”
Humor did the trick. She worked some moisture into her throat and found her voice. “Reel, you’re too far away.”
She reached for the closest thing.
It was her turn to laugh when he groaned. “Zeus, sweetheart. You’re gonna kill me.” He leaned over her, his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s get this off you.”
The sand scratched her back as Reel worked the arms of her bathing suit down. Her nipples tightened as the air and his gaze caressed them.
He sucked in a breath. “You are so beautiful.”
“You said that last night.”
“And I’ll say it every night for the rest of my life. You are stunning, Erica. Your skin is so soft. The scent of it—”
“That’s the hibiscus.”
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“Then it will always remind me of you.” He slipped his hands inside the suit, guiding it down her sides, and her nerves went ballistic.
He reached the curve of her hips and she had to raise herself to let him slip it beneath her. Her breasts swelled, straining for his touch, and the ache started again between her thighs.
His fingers kneaded her butt then skimmed over her legs as he slid the suit down, bypassing the one part of her that was begging for his touch the most. He traced the curve of each thigh, stroked the backs of her knees, lingered in the hollow of her ankle.
His backside, taut and firm, beckoned as he leaned to pull the suit off her feet, and she couldn’t resist. She stroked one cheek, gratified to make him pause… hear his breath catch.
She traced the cleft down to cup his sac, and he swayed on his knees, falling forward onto his hands just out of her reach, that trident tattoo just begging for her fingers to dance all over it.
He stayed there, his breathing accelerating. “I think you almost killed me.”
“Am I supposed to apologize for that?”
He looked back at her. “Hades, no. Just give me some warning, okay? I don’t want this to be over too soon. I want to savor it. You.”
With the fluid grace he’d exhibited in the water, Reel turned around and straddled her, rock-hard thighs capturing her hips, his sac brushing her mound. Wetness slipped between them, her musk surrounding them. Reel’s eyes flared and his hands sought her breasts. She met him halfway, arching into his palms. God, it felt InOverHerHead.indd 267
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so good. So amazing. The strength of his thighs as they rocked against her, his fingers twirling over her nipples, strumming against her sensitized skin. Her hips rose and fell against him, her breath trying to keep up. She ran her palms over his legs, across the thatch of black hair at his groin. He groaned her name when she reached him, encircling him with one hand, rubbing the tip with the other.
He was so hard. Pulsing. Hot. Another pearl of moisture glistened against her fingers, and she swirled it around his head, feeling it swell, the shaft jerking in her hand.
He released her breasts and leaned forward, bracing on his elbows. His chest heaved and sweat tricked from his hairline. His eyes, a soft green she’d never seen before, sought hers.
“Good gods, what you do to me. I’ve never felt that before.” He brushed the hair off her forehead and his eyes searched her face. “I want to be inside you, Erica. Watch you shudder as you fall apart in my arms. I want to feel every part of you around me, embracing me when I come inside you.”
She nodded, her toes back to curling when he trailed kisses from the tip of her nose, over her cheekbone to her jaw, down by her earlobe. Moist bre
aths skittered over her skin and she shivered.
Her chest pounded, the ache growing, pulsing between her legs. Her hips strained to open for him, but he gripped them shut. Heat built there, the flesh swelling in anticipation of feeling him surge inside over and over…
Come inside of you? Hello? Subconscious to Erica!
Pregnancy ringing any bells? Oh, Erica…
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Oh, hell, why now? Why did her subconscious choose now to get a conscience?
Reel sucked on her neck and she arched into it, to him, delicious tingles radiating throughout her body—
Hello? Are you listening at all?
Christ.
“Reel… wait.”
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Chapter 31
She did NOT just say, “Wait.”
Reel took a deep breath. Lack of oxygen. That’s what he must be suffering from, because he couldn’t have heard correctly. The gods knew, it wasn’t as if he had enough blood supply in the rest of his body to carry oxygen to his brain anyway since one area was commanding all of it. He had to have misheard.
“Reel, please. Wait.”
Oh, Hades. He hadn’t.
Every nerve in his body protesting, Reel released the sweet curve of her throat and rocked back onto his palms and knees.
Passion whirled in those beautiful blue eyes of hers, but there was something else…
“Wait? Really?” Still hoping he’d heard wrong. She nibbled the bottom lip he’d been planning to suck on next. “I’m worried.”
Was that all? “Ah, sweetheart, no need to worry. I’ve never had any complaints.” He slid right back into place at the curve of her neck, his tongue already out and trailing shivers across her skin.
“Not that. God, you certainly are sure of yourself.”
She tugged on his hair.
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was planning to lick as soon as they dealt with whatever worry she had.