by Rue Allyn
And laughing.
“You little minx.”
Relief flooded her first—obviously, he could swim.
Then a knot of guilt sank in her gut. “I’m sorry. That was really childish. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I’m a man of vengeance, Cat. If I were you . . . ” He gripped the edge of the dock and vigorously shook his head as he hoisted himself up. The bottom half of him still hanging in the water, he pinned her with playful, narrowed eyes. “I’d start running now.”
She knew she ought to heed his warning, but she couldn’t move. The sight of him caught her. His wet T-shirt now clung to his skin, showing off every solid muscle, every peak and valley, right down to his narrow waist and flat stomach.
“When I get out of this water . . . ” He lifted a knee onto the edge of the dock. “You’re going to get it.”
The low, rough timbre of his voice, the way he dropped neat and easy onto the edge of the dock, sent a shiver down her spine.
“Want to go for a swim?” One brow arched, he sprang to his feet with all the agility of a large cat, then rose to his full height.
When he took a menacing step toward her, she realized he wasn’t kidding. Her pulse skipped then quickened, but it was the look in his eyes that finally released the knot of guilt in her stomach. His deep, dark eyes glimmered with amusement. Amusement—and retribution.
With a giddy little squeal, she pivoted and ran. The sound of his bare feet hitting the wood followed closely behind her, and she couldn’t stop the insane giggles that bubbled out of her. She felt like a teenager again, carefree, light, playful, and she ran for the simple thrill of letting him catch her.
As she leaped onto the sand, her mind reeled. What would he do to her once he got his hands on her? What was a bad boy’s idea of torture? The thought sent a thrill zipping through her veins, heating her blood.
She didn’t have to wonder long. Two steps later, one strong arm snaked around her waist, bringing her to an abrupt halt. She barely had time to register the chill of his wet clothing against her before he scooped her off her feet.
At the sudden weightlessness, she let out a surprised squeak, her eyes widening.
“It’s payback time, Miss Kitty.” He shot her a playful grin and headed for the water, his stride no longer slow and stalking but long and determined.
“Then I’m taking you with me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight and met his narrowed gaze with one of her own. A giggle popped out before she could stop it, contradicting the fierceness of her statement.
“Honey, I’m already wet.” A low laugh rumbled out of him as he splashed into the water, carrying her as if she weighed little more than a pile of feathers.
He stopped waist deep and studied her. The waves he’d created rippled against her backside, the cool water contrasting with the heat of his body against her. Wickedness glinted in his eyes. What she wouldn’t give to be able to read his mind. Was he thinking the same sinful thoughts she was?
The corners of his mouth curled. “Take a deep breath, Cat, ’cause one way or another, you’re getting wet.”
She didn’t have time to ponder his statement, barely managed to register how sexy he looked right then. His eyes narrowed in playful retribution, his hair wet and tousled, water dripping over his chiseled features. In one swift movement, he pivoted to face the beach and fell backwards into the water, taking her with him. Goose bumps shivered across her skin and she sucked back a hissing breath right before the water swallowed her.
Somewhere in the process of struggling to right herself, Michael’s arms released her. Finally finding the sandy bottom, she pushed off and rocketed herself above the surface. She sucked in a gasping breath while spitting out the salty liquid.
Michael popped up beside her, laughing and shaking his head as he stood. “There. Now we’re even.”
“You really are bad.” She laughed and swiped her hand across the surface of the water, spraying him.
“You started it.” He volleyed back, his eyes dancing.
Their combined laughter, the playfulness, faded, taking his animated expression with it. As they continued to stare at each other, the air between them spiked with intense needs and wants. His eyes burned into hers, made sensual, wicked promises and an answering wave of lazy, desirous heat spread through her.
She was halfway to him before she realized she’d moved. The instant she pressed along his length and his strong arms closed around her, a wave of sweet pleasure slid through her. This was where she wanted to be. Her breathing hitched, then quickened to quiet, desperate gasps. She felt more alive, more empowered than she had in a long time, if ever. Her skin tingled, her heart beat a wild, erratic rhythm.
Yet she couldn’t stop trembling. The sheer power this man had over her scared her to death. She needed him with something even she didn’t understand.
His arms held her tightly against him. Michael leaned his forehead against hers, his expression soft and somber, eyes searching. “I have a confession to make.”
“Okay.”
“This town gets to me, too, and I swore a long time ago I didn’t give a damn. But you . . . you don’t look at me the way everyone else does.” His eyes burned into hers and seared a path right into her soul, tenderness mixed with pulse-pounding passion. “You’re a temptation I can’t seem to resist. Stay with me tonight.”
His words, the way they seeped inside and wrapped around her heart, stunned her to her toes. The bad boy had a vulnerable side, and he’d just laid it at her feet.
How was it possible to feel such a connection to a man she’d met barely two hours ago? Like she could look into his eyes and tell him anything.
She only knew that she did. Looking up into his eyes, heavy-lidded and glimmering with need, they spoke to her, told her everything she needed to know.
“As long as we’re making confessions, I have one of my own.” She slid her trembling hands up and down his back, let them play over the warm, solid muscle. “My whole life people have watched me, expected me to turn out like my mother. Here it got to be too much. I always felt I lived under a microscope. I left, too, just after high school. I came back about three years ago when my stepmother got sick. I didn’t want it to start all over again, so I’ve been keeping to myself. I’ve been suffocating, trying to be someone I’m not.”
Locked in a prison of her own making with no windows, no air.
“And tonight?”
“Tonight I want to escape.” Hands on his hips, fingers hooked into his belt loops, she lifted onto her toes and nipped at his bottom lip. “I need you.”
His arms tightened around her, pulled her so close she felt his every heartbeat, drew every breath with him.
He leaned down, brushed his mouth over hers, his kiss light electrifying.
“Ditto.” He murmured against her lips, and Cat melted into him.
She leaned up on her tiptoes and slanted her mouth over his.
A quiet groan rumbled out of him, a sound of acquiescence, and his tongue flicked into her mouth as he devoured her, feasted on her.
The man made her head spin. The heady taste of his warm mouth, the supple feel of his lips against hers. He might look tall, dark, and dangerous, but she felt safe with him. His kisses promised heaven and made her knees quiver. Made her forget everything but the need to feel the soft heat of his skin against hers.
He turned and slowly walked them out of the water, his mouth never once leaving hers, then tumbled her onto the blanket. He rolled her over and pulled her to lie on top of him, and she lost herself in the overwhelming sense of the man. The heat and solidness of his body beneath her, the thick, hardened length of his arousal pressing into her soft belly. Despite the fierceness of his kiss, he had a gentle touch. His hands caressed over her, teasing, setting fire to her nerve endings.
Tiny tremors wracked her body, as her hands sought him out, trembling with the need to touch him everywhere,
to feel every part of him. She slid them up his chest and over his broad shoulders before tangling her fingers in his thick, damp locks and holding on for dear life.
At the first touch of his hands on her skin as they slid beneath her top, she sucked back a hissing breath. They were so warm and smooth, so much more exquisite than she’d anticipated, and she shuddered with the simple force of the sensation. She could stay like this forever, lost in his heady taste, letting his hands ply her body at will.
When he pulled them away again, she whimpered with disappointment. The emotion became a memory as he slid those glorious hands down her backside and inched her skirt up above her knees. He pushed upright then, forcing her to straddle his thighs, and they both froze. A tremor ran through her as the very heat of her brushed the bulge in his jeans.
His breathing as harsh as her own, he took hold of the hem of her top, his eyes never once leaving hers as he yanked it off over her head. As he flung her top back over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other. It landed with a soft shush in the grass somewhere behind him, and a quiet giggle escaped her. That bad boy side of him she craved so much. He set her free.
The wind blew across her still damp skin, and she shivered. The chill contrasted with the fire burning in her belly. The inferno raged between them. He seemed to take it all in. His eyes roved over her, heavy-lidded and glimmering with desire and hunger, searing a path across her skin.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
A shudder raked through her, and she closed her eyes, let her head loll back, immersed herself in the glorious sensations. Michael made her feel beautiful, desirable, and sexy. The first man in a long time to make her feel that way.
At the first touch of his hands against her ribcage, her mind floated back into the clouds, and she let it go. They glided over her skin, a tantalizing, torturous sensation.
When he captured her breasts in his palms, she released a shuddering breath. He plied her flesh, rolled her nipples between his expert fingers, slowly driving her mad, setting her insides quivering. Moments later, when it was all she could do to keep from melting into his lap, he replaced his fingers with the heat of his mouth.
She arched her back, desperate for him not to stop the sweet torture. Like a starving man, he suckled at her sensitized flesh, drawing her need out to a ripe, burning ache that demanded satisfaction.
When his mouth ceased the excruciating torture, she couldn’t stop the protest that escaped. He stilled, as if waiting for something, finally coaxing her eyes open. She blinked at the stars, twinkling like diamonds in a black velvet sky, and lifted her head.
When her gaze met Michael’s, her breath caught in her throat. Dark desire smoldered there, hot and intense. Yet his hands trembled as they slid over her hips to cup her bottom. The minuscule actions spoke volumes, and another piece of him wrapped around her heart. Despite his powerful presence, he was still every bit as vulnerable as she was.
He tugged her closer, nestled her against the thick pulse of his arousal. A wave of pleasure rolled through her, and she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed. Every nerve ending felt as if it were on fire, made her skin ultra-sensitive to everything. Gentle, warm winds blew against her back, sending goose bumps shivering across her damp skin. The sand beneath her knees was course and gritty, yet soft and giving.
An overwhelming night with an incredible man. Michael moved slowly, his touch gentle, never asking for more than she was willing to give. That knowledge only increased the need burning within her, to give as much in return.
She rested her trembling hands against his chest, her fingers splayed, and caressed down his flat stomach. His heart pounded as fierce as hers beneath her palms. His warm breath blew harsh and ragged against her skin as he nipped at her shoulder.
When she met the waistband of his jeans, she tugged his T-shirt free, pulled it up and over his head before tossing it to the grass along with hers.
Her breath caught at the sight of him. He was magnificent, his body lean and sculpted, and she couldn’t resist touching him. Closing her eyes, she rested her hands against his chest and allowed herself the simple pleasure of getting lost in the feel of him.
She relished the warm, silkiness of his skin, the hills and valleys of muscles beneath her palms. Delighted in sifting her fingers through the thick, coarse curls covering the center of his chest. It trailed down his flat stomach, tapering, giving way to finer, softer hairs that disappeared beneath his waistband.
Following them, she dared to dip her fingers inside and teased him. His stomach muscles jumped in rewarding response. With a quiet growl, Michael shackled her wrists and pulled them away.
Rolling them over, he crawled over her, his body trembling against her as he pressed her back into the cool sand. Holding himself on his elbows, he stared down at her, the liquid pools of his eyes burning with need.
He bent his head, nipped at her lower lip and trailed hot, moist kisses across her jaw. “I can’t stand it anymore. I want to feel all of you.”
“Yes.” The word left her lips on a soft moan as a fiery wave washed over her and sucked her under.
She couldn’t believe how much she wanted this man, needed everything his wicked words and devilish eyes promised. The freedom he could bring.
Apparently satisfied, he pushed away and knelt between her legs. His eyes never once wavered from hers as he tugged her skirt off. He set the garment in the sand beside him and sat back on his heels. The moonlight shined against his back, setting his features in shadows, but his heated gaze caressed her body.
“Wow.” He leaned forward and glided silken palms up her legs, slow and tantalizing, setting her nerve endings on fire again. When he reached her thighs, his thumbs dipped in between and grazed her flesh through the fabric of her panties, and her breath caught in her throat, her body riding that fine, sweet edge.
“You are definitely a surprise.” His fingers slipped inside the edges of her panties. “I figured you for a cotton kind of girl.”
She knew he referred to the black lace she chose to wear tonight and a blush climbed into her cheeks. Another suggestion from Lisa. “Wear something you actually want someone to see.”
The sensation evaporated as quickly it as came when he kissed her there, where his fingers teased her tender flesh. She gasped, a quiver of pleasure slicing through her, the need within her skyrocketing to desperate, achy heights. Unable to stand it any longer, she reached for him, but he was gone, and she opened her eyes. He pulled her panties down her legs.
Lying naked before him, she shivered as much from the lack of his warmth against her as the ultra-vulnerable feeling that filled her. She was open and exposed, with nothing left to hide. Yet safe. The headiest thing about him was how oddly secure she felt with him. Beneath the rough, rebellious exterior laid a sensitive, vulnerable heart. A man with a tender touch.
Her gaze followed as he rose to his feet, stood towering over her. When he fingered the top button on his jeans, her breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful, bare-chested, the moonlight washing over his tanned skin.
She was mesmerized, her heart pounding a wild rhythm, as he undid the buttons of his jeans. He worked at them slowly, button by torturous button, and she curled her fingers into the sand to keep from jumping up and helping him.
She couldn’t help but smile. If he was teasing her, it worked.
All sense of teasing fled a heartbeat later, and he made quick work of his jeans. It was like heaven when he finally rejoined her, covering her body with his. His warmth enveloped her, and sensation swallowed her. The silky texture of his bare skin against hers, her breasts flattened against his chest, the coarse hair on his legs.
His freed arousal nuzzled her heat, and for a moment he stilled, his eyelids fluttering closed, a quiet moan slipping from his lips. Her body echoed the same white-hot need, and she wrapped her arms around him, clung to him.
When his eyes opened, he once again defied the untamed image she first had
of him. He threaded his fingers through her hair and leaned down to gently capture her mouth. He kissed her long and slow, his tongue slipping inside to caress hers, and made her shiver with tenderness and ache with wondering if he’d make love to her the same way.
He drove her to the brink of insanity and left her desperate to join with him, to quench the inferno he’d set ablaze within her. She slid her hands down his smooth, sleek back to cup his bottom and arched her hips against his.
Michael left her mouth to feather kisses across her jaw and down her neck, before lifting his head again. Even in the darkness, the devilment glittered in his eyes.
“Am I driving you crazy?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, rolled her head from side to side, and clutched his firm backside tighter in her hands. “Yes.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him, and he flicked his tongue over her earlobe. “Good. That’s exactly what you’re doing to me.”
His heat left her again, and the quiet sound of a plastic packet being torn open drifted to her on the wind. A few heartbeats later, he returned and brushed his mouth over hers. “Look at me, Cat.”
She peeled her heavy eyelids open. One by one, he captured her hands, pinned them above her head, and she knew the action wasn’t just another tease. It was a bold declaration of possession. It was in his eyes. They burned with such intensity it captivated her, left her breathless with anticipation. When he arched into her, filled her, she swallowed a soft cry, felt that possession right down to the tips of her toes.
He contradicted the fierce statement, however, when he began to move within her. He made love to her with agonizing slowness, set a deep, languorous rhythm that drove her to the edge of madness. It was electrifying and exhilarating. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t wrap her arms around him and cling to his body. She could only feel, had no choice but to let go, to let him take her soaring.
So she gave herself up to him. Reveled at the unbelievable pleasure of being so wholly possessed, so light and free, barely able to catch her breath.
Each measured movement propelled them forward, sent them careening toward the edge at an increasingly frantic pace. He dropped his forehead against hers, stared so deep she felt him touch her soul. The dark depths spoke to her, said more than words could, echoing all the emotions thrumming through her. They needed each other, with something that transcended physical pleasure and sexual release. It was a union of spirits, of souls. The freedom they could give each other, that waited for them on the other side. She surged up, rose to meet him, let him take her careful world and spin it out of control.
