by Cara Summers
“I want you.”
He wasn’t sure who’d spoken the words. But he knew they were real—the one real thing. She wasn’t a mermaid. He wasn’t some hapless sailor lured off course by her song. Fantasies were never real.
It was time he put an end to the game.
Even as he moved toward her, he glanced quickly over his shoulder. The thick curtain of water provided some privacy, and the cave faced the ocean, not the hotel. Still, all that separated them from anyone who happened by was water. When he turned back, they were facing each other eye to eye. Her lips were parted and wet. Real. It took all his control to touch only her hand. “Come with me,” he said.
“Stay with me.”
He brushed his lips over hers.
“We don’t have to be who we really are as long as we’re here. We have no past. No future,” she said.
He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, then tasted each corner of her mouth in turn. And all the while her words burned through him, eating at his control like the hot, hungry flames of a bonfire.
“No regrets. No repercussions.”
In some small part of his mind that hadn’t completely shut down, he knew that her words were the worst kind of fantasy. Every action produced an effect as surely as a pebble made ripples when tossed in a pool. There would be a price to pay. There always was.
Unable to resist any longer, he crushed her lips with his. If he could just stop the words…but he couldn’t seem to prevent her from making those small hungry sounds deep in her throat. They shot through him like electric shocks.
He grabbed her hands, bracketing them in one of his behind her back. Then with a quick groan of pleasure, he slipped his hand beneath the tank top, ran it up that smooth skin and cupped her breast. Helplessly, she arched toward him and moaned. It seemed he’d waited forever to touch her like this again.
He’d known hunger before, but it had never been this deep, this desperate. Suddenly impatient, he stripped her out of the tank top, and then arching her back over his arm, he lowered his mouth and feasted. The skin at her waist was taut, smooth and cool. He’d wanted to taste her there since he’d stepped out of the cabana. He lingered, using his teeth and his tongue until she was shuddering. Then he moved on, sampling her navel, then that slender, strong torso, until he reached her breasts. They were as soft as satin, as sweet as the most forbidden fruit. He wanted to go slowly, to torture her as she’d tortured him. But as he moved his lips and his tongue first over one silky curve and then the other, the soft, urgent sounds she made vibrated against his mouth and pounded into his brain.
Twin desires warred within him. He had to have her. Soon.
He had to draw out the pleasure for them both, for as long as he could.
Taking one cool, puckered nipple into his mouth, he moved his tongue over it, then closed his teeth around it. She arched back, her hair dipping into the water, and offered him more.
He slid the palm of his hand down the slick skin of her torso and dragged the bottom of her suit down her legs. Then he pressed his hand against her soft, hot center. When his finger penetrated her, she cried out, and he covered her mouth with his. Pushing in deeper, he felt tight, slick satin pulse and pull, begging, demanding.
Need slammed into him, not an ache this time but a chain saw with a rusted blade, shredding his restraint. Control streamed away as quickly and surely as the water crashing down overhead. He couldn’t think. He had to be inside her, completely naked. He had to feel hot slickness pulling him in farther and farther.
“I…want…you.” The hoarse sound of her voice had the need slicing deeper. “Now.”
“You’ve got me.” Slowly, he withdrew his finger. Then releasing her hands, he gripped her waist and settled her back on the submerged rock ledge. He ran his hands up the inner side of her thighs, pushing them apart.
Her fingers were already dragging his swimsuit down. The moment he was free, he grabbed her wrists. If she touched him now…
Drawing in a deep breath, he fought against the climax he knew was close.
Then, when he was sure he could, he took her hands and placed them on his shoulders. “Wrap your legs around me.” He helped her, drawing her closer until his erection was pressed just inside her core. The searing heat of it—the promise of even more heat to come—nearly undid him. In spite of the coolness of the water swirling around them, he felt sweat pearl his forehead and slide down his spine. He’d never been this close to the edge before without letting go. His entire body was clenched tight, but the desire to take her warred with a greater need.
“Open your eyes.” His words were only a whisper, but her lids opened.
“Say your name,” he said.
She tightened her grip on his shoulders and met his eyes. “Fiona.” Then she tightened her legs around him and began to draw him in.
It took all his control to resist. “No. Your real name.”
“Mac.”
“And mine.”
“Lucas.”
He thrust into her then, hot and deep and hard. For a moment he was sure his heart stopped. He thought he’d known what it would be like, but she was tighter, hotter, much better then he’d imagined. He knew he should wait, give her time to adjust, but he couldn’t stop himself from withdrawing and thrusting again. And again. And again.
He watched her eyes grow darker even as the sheath she’d wrapped him in pulsed around him.
He wanted more than anything to stop—to draw out the moment—to prolong the feeling of oneness he’d never experienced before now. But he felt her convulsions start, felt them radiate through her, and he was lost. He had to thrust even more deeply into her until his own release began to rip through him. The pleasure built in wave after wave after wave—pulling him higher and higher—until it finally thrust him free. Holding her tight, he took her with him into a breathless, airless void.
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN SHE COULD BREATHE again, think again, Mac found herself sitting on Lucas’s lap on the rock ledge that surrounded the little cave. His arms were around her and her head was cradled against his chest. Against her ear, she could hear the sure beat of his heart. Contentment spread through her, and she didn’t want to move, to think.
That was not good. If she were in the lab, she would be feeling that sudden rush of elation that always came when an experiment went well. She would be running the whole thing through in her mind, evaluating what had worked, what needed to be improved.
But she didn’t want to analyze. All she wanted to do was to hang on to the moment—to spin it out and to pretend just for now that Lucas had really wanted her, not Fiona.
That was not only wrong, it was dangerous. An impossible fantasy. Even as fear knotted in her stomach, she pushed it away. She couldn’t afford to repeat the mistake she’d made all her life of wanting what she could never have. She had to settle for what was real—her research.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
She jumped when the rumbling sound of his voice startled her.
“That bad, huh?”
She lifted her head and met his eyes. They were intent, guarded.
She struggled to reach the same level of control. “That went very well, I thought. But I’d like to try it again.”
His eyes narrowed. “Something was wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No, not at all. Except…” Slowly, she smiled—the way she imagined Fiona might. “I’d like to try it again, and this time you have to leave my hands free.”
His hands tightened on her. And something flashed into his eyes—the wild recklessness she’d seen before. It ignited an answering response within her—a fierce, almost overwhelming need.
“That can be arranged. But not here. We’ve been lucky so far…”
The rest of his sentence trailed off when a head suddenly appeared beneath the curtain of the waterfall. In one quick, smooth movement, Lucas eased them both off the rock ledge so that the water came up to his chest and her neck. Mac was suddenly aw
are of two things. Lucas was easing himself back into his swimsuit. And she had no idea where hers was!
“Oh. Hi,” said a plump woman in her mid-fifties. “We didn’t mean to interrupt. Harold here just thought it would be fun to—”
While Harold surfaced and made a show of shaking out the water from the few strands of hair left on his head, Lucas moved in front of Mac, shielding her with his body. Running her hand along the rock ledge, Mac prayed that her suit was there.
“See, Nelly, these folks had the same idea I had, I bet.”
“Nonsense.” Winking at them, Nelly gave Harold a playful push. “Harold’s a dirty old man.”
“That’s the best kind, isn’t it?” Mac asked as her fingers closed around her tank top. As unobtrusively as she could, she drew it in front of her beneath the water.
Harold’s guffaw filled the cave. “That’s what I keep telling her, young lady. That’s what I keep telling her.”
“C’mon, Harold. We’ve interrupted this young couple.”
Reaching behind him, Lucas gripped Mac’s arm. “Not at all. We were just about to leave, weren’t we, dear?”
Before she could reply, he was edging her toward the waterfall, shielding her as much as he could. As they moved past Harold, Lucas leaned toward him.
“My wife here thought that this might be just the kind of place a mermaid would lure some hapless sea captain, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I catch your drift, son,” Harold said and winked.
Without waiting to hear another word, Mac clutched the top of her bathing suit close and dived under the waterfall. When she surfaced she found Lucas at her side.
“What did you do that for?” she asked. “You practically told them what we were doing.”
“I thought it might add to your research. Obviously, Harold fits into the forty to fifty percent of men who like the mermaid fantasy.”
“Let’s hope Nelly likes it too,” Mac said.
Lucas threw back his head and laughed. The warm, rich sound of it was so infectious that she had to join him. Before they were finished, they were clinging to each other trying not to submerge.
“It’s not funny,” Mac said, trying to stave off another wave of laughter. “I only have half my bathing suit. I lost the thong.”
“A real mermaid wouldn’t need one,” Lucas pointed out.
“A real mermaid wouldn’t have to walk into the Wainright Casa Marina Hotel.”
“Let this be a lesson to you, Doc. Fantasies can be dangerous.”
And they could, Mac thought. But they were also fun. And she was enjoying this playful side of Lucas almost as much as she’d enjoyed the fiercely possessive lover that she’d encountered in the rock cave. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m going to put the top half of my suit on, and while I’m doing that you can figure out how we’re going to get to the room without getting thrown in jail.”
But getting into the bathing suit wasn’t as easy as it looked. The tank top wasn’t in the mood to cooperate. The material didn’t stretch as easily when it was wet. And to make matters worse, they kept laughing and sinking under the water. And it didn’t help at all that Lucas’s hands were on her more than they were on the suit. Each time they touched her, she couldn’t seem to remember about the suit at all. By the time they got her arms through the holes and tugged the top down over her breasts, they’d both sunk to the bottom of the lagoon.
She would have pushed up to the surface, but his hands gripped her waist, anchoring her. In the wavering shafts of light piercing the turquoise water, he looked different, more like an undersea god than a mere mortal. Suddenly, she wanted him just as fiercely as she had in the rock cave. She only had time for that one thought before he pushed them both to the surface and shoved her against the side of the lagoon.
One of his hands gripped the back of her neck, his body pressed fully against hers. Then his mouth closed over hers.
Sensations streamed through her and around her, trapping her in a world of razor-edged contrasts. The chill of the water; the heat shooting through her in bright lightning bursts wherever his body touched hers. The hard pressure of his hands at her waist and her neck; the incredible softness of his lips and the gentle insistence of his tongue as it patiently explored her mouth—as if he had all the time in the world to savor each flavor. Pleasure shot through her in wave after wave. Seductive. Overpowering.
She was drowning. It was only as they once more broke the surface of the water that she realized they’d sunk below it again. Coughing and dragging in air, she stared at him. His breathing was just as ragged as hers.
“I want you.”
LUCAS WASN’T SURE who’d spoken the words aloud or if they were merely a chant in his brain. All he knew was that he’d never felt this way before. Desire seemed too tame a word for it. What had gripped him at the bottom of the lagoon had been so intense, so overpowering that he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get them above the water.
He’d been laughing one minute, struggling with her suit, then the need had snuck up on him and slammed into him with a force that had driven everything else away.
She’d looked like a sea goddess, her hair a red-gold crown. All he knew was that he had to have her. And he’d very nearly taken her right there on the bottom of the lagoon.
But it wasn’t a mermaid who was facing him now, with a mixture of desire and anticipation in her eyes. They were no longer in danger of drowning. And the wanting had only increased.
“I want you.” This time he’d definitely said it aloud, and the raspy sound of the words only seemed to intensify the need pounding in his head and burning through his blood. Using his body, he pushed her back against the side of the lagoon, then slid a hand behind her and gripped one of the rocks.
He tried to focus on looking around, checking to make sure they were alone. But any clear thoughts of decency and privacy were erased by the image of what he saw in her eyes, the perfect mirror of the desire that was coursing through his veins.
“Your hands are free this time,” he said. “Use them.”
As she grasped his shoulders, he wrapped her legs around him and, gripping the rock ledge behind her, he pushed into her slowly. The heat ate at his control.
“Tell me you want me.” Slowly he withdrew nearly all the way. “Or do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she whispered.
“No, you don’t want me or no you don’t want me to stop?”
“No…yes…please…”
He pushed into her again. Not fast enough, not far enough. “Hold on.”
But she was already tightening her legs around him. Holding the rock ledge with both hands for all he was worth, he pushed as far as he could into her sleek, satiny heat.
She made a sound as she moved against him and drew him in even farther.
“Shh,” he whispered against her lips. “You can’t make any noise. Someone could come along at any moment. We can’t let them know what we’re doing.”
He withdrew slowly, then entered her again, spinning the piercing pleasure into torture. “The water is working against us. It’s going to take a long, long time.”
“Lucas, please…”
“Shh,” he managed to murmur. But the sound of his name had already shredded what was left of his control. Suddenly, he wasn’t thinking. Couldn’t think. All he knew was the dark, slippery grip of her as he withdrew as far as he could and pushed into her again. He wanted to go faster, had to go faster—but he’d spoken the truth. The depth of the water and their position against the side of the lagoon worked against him. Each time he withdrew, he felt as if he was leaving some vital part of himself behind. Then she stiffened, using all her strength to arch against him, and he felt himself shatter. Helpless, he pushed in as far as he could and poured himself into her.
For a long time, neither of them moved. Lucas wasn’t sure he could. He knew he didn’t want to. Palm leaves rustled overhead. The water around them gradually stilled. Then he heard t
he steady slap, slap of approaching sandals.
Tightening his grip on her waist, he drew back and eased himself out of her, then quickly adjusted his bathing suit and glanced around. Much to his relief, the area was deserted. Whoever was approaching was still hidden by the rock cave to his left.
Turning his attention back to Mac, he said, “Are you all right?”
Her eyes when they met his were focused and filled with delight. “Much better than all right.” Then she leaned closer to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “It was even better than in the cave. And I like it when my hands are free. Next time I’ll have to remember to use them.”
He wasn’t sure which surprised and delighted him more—her reply or the kiss. It had been so spontaneous, it had to have come from Mac, not her mermaid persona.
“Mr. Wainright! Mr. Wainright, sir…”
Glancing up, he saw Yancey, the young pool man, hurrying toward them and waving Mac’s duffel bag. Lucas could cheerfully have murdered him. He released Mac, but used his arms to keep her caged against the side of the lagoon.
“Your cell phone has been ringing and ringing. I finally figured I should answer. Good thing too. A Mr. Tracker is trying to reach you. He ordered me to bring you the phone, so he can call back.” Dropping the duffel at the edge of the lagoon, Yancey squatted to hand Lucas the phone. “Was your Mr. Tracker by any chance in the military? There’s such a note of command in his voice,” he asked, eyes bright with interest.
The cell phone rang.
“And he’s so prompt too.”
“Yes?” Lucas said into the phone.
“Are you okay?” Tracker asked.
“Of course.”
“It’s the first time someone else has ever answered your cell phone.”
The amazement and concern in Tracker’s voice had him frowning. For the first time since he’d followed Mac into the lagoon, reality was setting in. The truth was, he’d left the damn phone in the cabana along with his wallet and clothes. He hadn’t given them a thought once he’d seen Mac in that swimsuit. And he hadn’t been thinking of anything but her a moment ago when he’d taken her against the side of the lagoon.
