Drake wouldn’t give Mitch or his brother’s access to the security for the mystery lab just yet, but at least he’d opened the door by providing the email address. Again, this could be huge for them or it could blow up in their faces. Mitch rolled his shoulders. It felt great to no longer carry the full burden alone.
He pulled into the marina and made his way to the yacht. The captain and the first mate lived on the yacht full-time, and Mitch had installed a state-of-the-art security system on board, but he also had one of his guys buzz by at different times each day.
He still wasn’t happy with the setup. He really needed a security detail living here full-time, but it just didn’t make sense on the budget Drake had given him. Drake didn’t think it was necessary, so it wasn’t going to happen. Something told him Drake would change his mind on security after all this Tolliver business. He was just starting to realize he was vulnerable.
Mitch climbed on board the yacht. He didn’t immediately see anyone, so he worked his way around the yacht until he hit the top deck where he found the captain and the first mate chatting away with his thief.
“Captain Fletcher,” Mitch said in clipped tones, “how are things?”
The captain got up off the couch and offered Mitch his hand. They shook. “Things are good. This lovely lady let us keep her company until you arrived.” He smiled at Alex. Mitch had the irrational urge to punch him even though the man was sixty, if he was a day. Still, he’d obviously enjoyed his conversation with Alex. He even had a glass of what looked like champagne on the table in front of him.
“Well, now that I’m here, perhaps you can pull up the logs and let me know if anything has been going on. Also, you need to start planning for a long trip.”
He and his thief were playing a little game, and it was time for some diversionary tactics. Why not let her think he was accompanying Drake out of town? That they were taking the yacht rather than flying?
The captain frowned. “Where are we going?”
“We’ll discuss that later. Right now, I need you to make a list of what’s needed for a month-long voyage. Any repairs, replacement of equipment, that kind of thing. I need to know. We’ll be leaving soon, so I need everything to happen quick-time.”
Fletcher nodded. “Well, Carrie, it looks like I have to go to work. It was an honor to have met you.” He bowed over her hand, gave a nod to Mitch, and disappeared below deck with the first mate following at his heels.
Mitch turned to look at Alex. She was wearing a transparent black coverup over a dark green bikini. Her pebbled nipples poked the tiny fabric triangles covering her breasts. Oh boy. He still couldn’t tell if the hair was real or a wig.
Sleeping with her had to be off the table, but the memory of her body pressed against his from the other night haunted him. She had been turned on, too. He remembered the sound of her breath coming in little pants and how she’d ground her hips into his.
“Where’s my champagne?” he asked, his voice a bit rough. Their eyes met, and he knew she could see her effect on him. He cleared his throat.
She smiled slowly as she reached into the old-fashioned picnic basket on the table and brought out the champagne. She filled a glass and handed it over, then stood and raised her own flute. “To second chances.”
They clinked glasses and then took a sip. It was cool running down his throat, but it was the only thing that wasn’t sky-rocketing in temperature. He couldn’t resist. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, bringing her against him. He dipped his head and claimed her mouth for what should have been a quick kiss but ended up being much longer. Finally, a distinct cough brought them up for air.
The first mate stood there, trying very hard to keep a smirk off his face. Mitch scowled at him.
“Mr. Callahan, the captain wanted me to tell you that he is making some calls but, because of the long weekend, it looks like it will be Tuesday before certain things can be done.”
“All right, Patrick. Tell the captain to determine what is essential for us to do before heading out and what can wait until we hit the next port.”
“Yes, sir.” Patrick turned on his heel and disappeared down the stairs.
Mitch took the opportunity to step back from Alex and take a breath. He had lost his head again. He needed to focus on the mission at hand and not be so distracted by how much he wanted her. And he did want her—badly.
She sat back down and appeared greatly unaffected by their encounter. He, on the other hand, was having binding issues with his black cargo pants. He plunked down on the couch beside her but made sure there was a cushion in between. “So, what have you been up to?” he asked as he put his glass down on the side table.
“Research,” she said with a smile.
I’ll bet. “What are you researching? What exactly do you do? I don’t think we’ve discussed it before.” It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t keep his hands still. He ached to touch her. He reached for his champagne and took a sip, keeping the glass in his hands this time.
“I’m in asset management.”
He choked, trying not to snort the drink out of his nose.
She leaned forward. “Are you all right?” she asked, concern etched on her forehead.
Asset management. She was slick. He coughed again. “Yes. It went down the wrong pipe. So, asset management requires a lot of research, does it?”
“Tons,” she responded. “Success is in the details.” She smiled.
He tried not to laugh again. She was so damn clever. Too bad she wasn’t on his team. He could use her fresh perspective on things.
“So, what did you bring for lunch? I’m starving.”
She stood, pulled a blanket out of the basket, and proceeded to spread it out on the deck. “It’s not a picnic unless you have a blanket.” She knelt down and started unloading the rest of the hamper. “I have cheese and crackers, carrots and hummus, egg salad, a baguette, and some berries and grapes with whipped cream for dessert.”
“Looks great,” he said as he set his champagne glass down next to the blanket. He grabbed a couple of pillows off the couches and threw them down on the blanket. After he sat down beside her, she handed him a plate and started opening containers.
He put some of everything on his plate. “Is this the part where you fan me and feed me grapes?”
“Ha! No, that’s your job,” she said as she handed him a bunch of grapes.
“Hmmm. You mean like this?” He pulled a grape from the bunch and put it in front of her lips. She opened her mouth just enough to let the grape slide in. He got hard thinking about what she could do with those lips. Before he could shake the image of her lips closing around his length, she grabbed his hand and gently licked his fingers. He groaned, and she gave a throaty laugh.
“You’re killing me.” He sat back, admitting defeat.
“So, how’s your work going?”
The question brought him back down to earth with a thump. “Fine. The usual.”
“Really? It sounded like you were getting out of town in a hurry. Is that always the way things work?” She looked like the picture of innocence.
He shrugged. “Just a precautionary measure.” In truth, no one was going anywhere on the yacht, and the captain knew it. He’d called earlier and told the man to just go along with whatever he said. The captain agreed. He was doing a nice job of playing along though, and it looked like his little thief was buying the ruse. He planned to make her job damn near impossible by providing her with as many conflicting clues as possible.
“Is your boss in some kind of trouble?” she asked as she took a cracker from the spread.
“No more than usual. Rich people are always on the move.” He reached for his champagne glass. “What about you? Are you getting things all worked out? With your research, I mean?”
“Uh, it’s coming along. I think I have a good handle on it, but it’s hard to be completely sure.”
Don’t bet on it. “Yes, most of life is a bit of a gamble.”
> “I’ll drink to that.” She clicked glasses with him and then took a sip.
“So, where are you from? I don’t think we ever covered the basics.” He took another bite of egg salad.
She took a gulp of champagne, and he thought he saw a flare of panic in her eyes. “No, I guess we didn’t. Is this one of your three questions?”
“No. Just a general ‘get to know you’ type question.”
She lifted one shoulder. “All over really. I grew up on the west coast, but I went to several different boarding schools, so I moved around a lot.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Only child.”
“Aunts and uncles, cousins?”
“A few, but only one or two I’m close to.”
Mitch stopped eating. “You’re not very good at this ‘getting to know you’ thing. You’re supposed to give longer answers. You know, share a bit about yourself.”
“Not much to share, really.”
He frowned. “I doubt that.” This wasn’t going so well. He was the one who was supposed to get information, not give it, but maybe if he threw her something, she’d do the same. “So how did you come up with the idea for a picnic? I haven’t been on a picnic in years.” He smiled. “My mom liked them. I grew up in Brooklyn, but we had a place on the Jersey shore. My mom grew up there. My family would spend a lot of the summer at the beach. My brothers and I would go out and run around like crazy in the morning and then my mom would show up with a blanket and a basket of food in the afternoon. She’d whistle, and we’d all come running. It’s one of my fondest memories of my mom. What about you?”
She popped another grape in her mouth. “A friend suggested the picnic.”
He got the distinct impression she did not want to talk about her childhood. “Well, tell her or him thank you for me.”
She gave him a quick smile.
He decided to press his luck. “Tell me about your family.” When she hesitated, he said, “I told you a story. Now you’re supposed to tell me one. That’s how this works.”
She ate some baguette, probably to buy herself some time, following it up with a gulp of champagne.
Looking out at the water sparkling in the sunshine, she said, “My parents were usually busy with friends and doing charity work. I spent most days with a nanny or a tutor and my uncle. He’s the one who taught me about asset management.”
“That sounds lonely,” Mitch said, picking up on the sadness in her voice. Something told him she was telling him the unvarnished truth.
“It was sometimes. I learned a lot and it’s come in handy.” She tore off another chunk of baguette.
“I’m sure it does” Did she learn to steal from her uncle? Was it a family affair?
She paused, her eyes flickering with some emotion he couldn’t identify. “I was sent off to boarding school. Anyway, my childhood wasn’t filled with great memories. I’m glad yours was, though. Those picnics on the beach with your family sound wonderful.”
Mitch put his plate down on the blanket and finally gave in to the urge to touch her. He reached over and stroked her face with his thumb. “I’m so sorry you were lonely and sad.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead while he continued to run his thumb along her jaw. “We’ll just have to make up for it now. More picnics and days at the beach.”
She smiled at him. “I’d like that.”
He slowly lowered his mouth over hers. She immediately opened her lips and let his tongue slide into her mouth. He tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back.
“I don’t have any great stories of my youth, but I’d love to hear more of yours.”
He smiled. “Why is it I don’t believe you? I am sure you have lots of interesting stories to tell.”
She laughed. “No, not really.” At his disbelieving look, she said, “What can I tell you? I’m boring.”
“I highly doubt that.” He watched her eat a grape, and his thoughts instantly went back to sex.
“I think you’d be surprised.”
“Maybe.”
She looked up at him and must have seen the desire in his eyes. She stopped chewing suddenly. Then she swallowed, hard.
“I thought you were hungry,” she said, pointing to his plate.
“I am, but not necessarily for food.” A small smile played at the corner of his lips. He reached over and swiped a finger through the whipped cream. Then he brought it to her lips, but when she opened her mouth, he pulled it back. The second she closed her mouth again, he brushed his finger against her lips. She stuck her tongue out and licked it off. He did it again, but this time he used his own tongue to clean them off. Then he dipped his finger in the cream again, ran it along her jaw and down her neck, and started kissing her along the trail he’d created. Little kisses, nipping, licking here and there. When he kissed the hollow of her neck, she let out a small groan.
He stopped and pulled back. “I—“ Whatever he’d been about to say completely left his head when she grabbed his hand and licked the last trace of whipped cream off his finger. He watched her, fascinated by the way her tongue moved.
“I thought you might need some help getting rid of the stickiness,” she said. Her voice was deep and throaty. It was the sexiest thing he had ever heard.
“There are a few other things I might need help with as well…”
She chuckled. “Really, like what?”
He opened his mouth and shut it again. He was all for flirting, but this was getting hotter than he had anticipated.
“I don’t know about you, but I think I need to work on my tan a bit.” She shifted her position and then untied her coverup. It fell to her waist. She watched him as he ran his eyes over the length of her.
The dark green string bikini barely covered her breasts. He saw the twinkle in her eye. Oh, game on. “You know, that sounds like a good idea.” He pulled off his shirt and lay back on the pillow.
“You’ve got something on your chest.”
“Really?” He sat up. “Where?”
“There,” she said as she hit him in the chest with a blackberry.
He caught it on the rebound and popped it in his mouth. “Be careful, I’m a crack shot.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” She grinned.
“Really? Who taught you?”
Her answer was to throw another blackberry grenade. His eyes narrowed. “I’m warning you. Keep going, and it’s not going to be pretty.”
“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it?” she taunted as she raised her hand to throw a grape. He grabbed her hand, and she squealed when he pulled her across the blanket to him. Holding the back of her neck with his other hand, he slanted his mouth across hers and kissed her deeply. He felt her hands explore the ridges of his torso, run across his chest, and then link behind his head.
He deepened the kiss as he tried to pull her even closer. It was an awkward angle, but he needed to feel her body against his. She pulled back from the kiss and then, without warning, straddled his lap.
“Are you sure?” he managed to croak out.
She smiled. “I got in your lap, remember?” She fisted her hands in his hair and kissed him fiercely as she lowered herself directly on top of his crotch.
He groaned. He could feel her heat through his pants. She started to move her hips, but he stilled them. Jake was right about one thing—the past few months had indisputably been a dry spell. If she kept moving against him like that, he was going to come in seconds. “Here’s the deal. You can’t move unless I tell you to, and if you do, I’ll stop what I’m doing.” Her eyes narrowed. Her weight shifted off him. He was losing her. He blurted out, “Unless you don’t think you can control yourself...”
“Challenge accepted,” she murmured as she sat back down, pressing her hot center into his hard-on.
Her eyes were brilliant green, and he watched them darken as he rubbed his thumb across her breasts. Her nipples puckered through the material of the bikini top. So he rubbed them again and again, n
ot stopping until she moaned. He finally moved the piece of material aside and sucked on her nipple. Her moan was louder this time. With his other hand, he pushed the other triangle of material out of the way and cupped her breast. He went back and forth between the two, sucking and fondling each nipple until she started to move again.
“No moving,” he growled.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
“You can touch my chest or my back but nothing else.” She frowned at him, but when he ran his fingers over her breast again, her eyes closed and her head arched back, her hands gripping his shoulders.
He moved his hands up and down her thighs while he continued to suck her nipple. He could feel her breathing getting faster. He pulled her up slightly, just enough to give his fingers access to her clit though her bikini bottoms. Her body jerked in response, and she bit her lip. As he continued his torment, she fisted her fingers in his hair and thrust her nipple deeper into his mouth.
He pushed the material of her bikini bottoms aside and put one finger inside her. She moaned. He moved it in and out in a slow rhythm while he started rubbing small circles on her clit. The sight of her reacting to him—head thrown back, teeth biting her lip, hips moving—made him hard as a rock.
He put another finger inside her and started to speed up the rhythm. Her hips moved faster in response. She was riding his hand now, grinding her hips into him with total abandon. He marveled at the fact she was naked where anyone could see her and still she didn’t stop, didn’t care. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
He caught one of her nipples in his mouth again and sucked hard, increasing the tempo of his fingers and his thumb at the same time. Her breath came in little pants and her hips were bucking wildly against him. She cried out when she came. Her core squeezed his fingers, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and then she slumped forward over him.
She opened her eyes and saw Mitch’s smoky gray gaze staring back at her. His lips were curled up at the corners. She could feel his hard-on beneath her.
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