Going Deep (Coastal Heat #1)

by Maggie Wells

  “Yes.”

  He began to move at last. His maddeningly slow, deliberate movements matched the roll of the wake beneath the boat. She wrapped her hands around his bulging biceps and squeezed, urging him on.

  “Good,” he murmured as he pressed sweet kisses to her cheek and then her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin. “I hope you don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. I’ve waited a long time for this.” He whispered the warning into her skin, trailing searing kisses along the column of her throat. “Last chance to change your mind.”

  She sighed, lost in the depths of his bittersweet eyes. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He kissed her again, running his tongue along her bottom lip. Drawing it into his mouth, he sucked hard. The sharp edges of his teeth provided thrilling contrast to the plush warmth of his lips and tongue. His stubble rasped her cheeks and chin. She raked her fingernails over the hard planes of his back. He broke the kiss with a gasp that morphed into a growl. Catching her wrists in one hand, he pinned them high above her head. She buried her nails into the back of his hand. He chuckled but didn’t release his hold.

  Brian teased her mercilessly, loosening one button after the other on her blouse but barely skimming the exposed skin beneath. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit. The metallic tang of blood shocked them both. He drew back, staring at her in amazement as he ran his tongue over the tender spot, his breath coming hard and fast.

  She returned his stare with a haughty lift of her eyebrows and an insincere, “Sorry.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’ll kiss it.”

  He ignored her offer in favor of stringing kisses along her jaw. His teeth sank into her ear lobe, and her long, raspy moan filled the cabin.

  “I want you.” His voice cracked, exposing a tiny fissure of vulnerability big enough to swallow the last of her restraint.

  “Then take me.” The words escaped before she checked them for cheesiness. Her cheeks flamed. It was too late to take them back. And she couldn’t. They were the truth. She wanted him to take her. She wanted him to make her his. But instead of ravishing her like the wanton tart she wanted to be, he released his hold and slid off the end of the bed. “What? Where are you going?”

  “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  A wave of relief rushed through her as he pulled back the sides of her suit jacket and a nervous laugh bubbled up in its wake. “I thought you were going to leave me here like this.”

  He peeled the clingy silk from her shoulders, eyeing the lace-edge of her bra with avid interest. “Why would I do that?”

  She unhooked the clasp but left the satin and lace in place as she fell back. “Revenge for people liking pizza better than plankton?”

  He skimmed the straps down her arms. The bra dangled from his long fingers. Gaze fixed on her breasts, he rubbed the silky fabric between his fingers and smirked. “I meant, why would I leave you here? This is my boat.”

  She gaped at him, her eyes opening wide as his smirk grew into a grin. He tossed the bra over his shoulder into the galley area.

  “Jerk.”

  The accusation packed no heat, but he hummed a soft acknowledgment. Then he bent his head to mark her with a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of her stomach. She plunged her fingers into his thick, wet hair, showering them both with drops. He nuzzled the underside of one breast and she arched her back, unabashedly begging for more.

  “People do like pizza better than plankton,” he murmured. Soft kisses soothed the skin her underwire had pinched. “Why, I don’t know.”

  Brooke laughed at the note of genuine puzzlement in his voice. He circled her nipple with the tip of his tongue, teasing the sensitive skin until it rippled into a taut point. She cried out when he sank his teeth into the furled tip and pulled.

  “It wasn’t the experiment I objected to,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “It was the data capture, remember?”

  “My data was valid and true,” she whispered.

  He didn’t blink. “Not as true as mine.”

  “I wasn’t the judge.”

  The gentle reminder seemed to appease him slightly. “Everything came easy for you.”

  She frowned. His argument had some basis in fact, but it didn’t acknowledge the effort she put forth. “I worked hard,” she insisted, her voice quiet but firm. “Yes, people liked me, but I made an effort to be likable.”

  He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. Hard. A sweet punishment for her rebuttal. She pulled his hair. The action elicited a rumble of approval that intensified his assault on her senses.

  He teased her tender flesh with his lips, teeth, and tongue. The button at her waist gave way. He left her panting and whimpering to draw her skirt and panties over her legs. “Are you saying I’m not likeable?”

  She sighed, edgy and impatient, anxious to get on to the good stuff. That is, the really good stuff. The wicked edge in his smile made her pulse beat double time. “Would you settle for lickable?”

  His eyes locked on hers. “I bet I can make you like me.”

  * * * *

  The boat rocked on the wake, but Brian flexed his knees and held his ground. The hum of a motor drew closer. His own motor hummed at full throttle. The woman who gave him more sleepless nights than any man should admit to knowing lay sprawled on the scratchy berth, bare as the day she was born and more beautiful than any daydream should be.

  Brooke wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and he nearly growled. Her high, small breasts jiggled enticingly as she propped her weight on her elbows. It took every ounce of strength he had to raise his gaze to meet hers. He wouldn’t let her get the best of him now. Not when he’d waited so long to have her.

  Those gorgeous green eyes widened as he loosened the drawstring on his shorts. Her nostrils flared when he shoved them over his hips. These were the kinds of hints he understood. Basic biology was his milieu.

  Watching her close, he fell back on the safety of science. He cataloged each tell with cool, clinical detachment, but his blood ran hot. The tightening of her raspberry-red nipples was duly noted. He tagged his own urge to salivate when she gave her hips a slow, suggestive roll. He’d spent a lifetime holding back, watching, waiting, checking, and double checking before he let the thrill of discovery overtake him. This could be no different. He needed her to be the one to break first. Just this once. He needed to come out on top this one last time because he was damn sure she’d have him wrapped tighter than a spring the moment he slipped inside her.

  Brian braced his hands in the narrow doorway, willing her to come to him. In a flash, Brooke scrambled from the berth and fell to her knees in front of him. A thousand fantasies came true in glorious high-definition. Her plush pink lips closed around him and life as he knew it ceased to exist. Everything he accomplished, every goal he set from here on out would be in the context of before Brooke and after.

  God, what would he do after?

  Bold eyes locked on his as she drew him into her mouth. Digging deep, he plunged his hands into her hair and tapped the darkest recesses of his mind for distraction. The periodic table song came to mind, but a man would have to be made of Herculaneum to be strong enough to withstand the lure of her low, throaty moan. Her cheeks hollowed as she took him harder and faster, teasing him with lips, tongue, and a dangerous hint of teeth. She set a frantic pace, driving him straight out of his mind.

  His fingers dug into her scalp. His hips jerked. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, but he didn’t care. Every molecule of his being was focused on one thing and one thing only: being inside her. Deep inside her.

  The telltale tightening in his balls unleashed sheer panic. With a strangled groan, he pulled her hair hard enough to make her gasp. Hauling her up from her knees, he pushed her back onto the cramped bed.

  “I’ve got to get inside you.” His hips rocked against her rhythmically as he reached past her head. Her wet heat was temptation itself. His body screamed fo
r release as he groped at a compartment recessed into the cabin wall. His gaze locked on her and didn’t waver as he sat back to roll the condom into place. “I’m going to be inside you.”

  “Hurry,” she whispered.

  Brian punctuated the heartfelt sentiment with a long, lingering kiss. His dick nudged her entrance, but he didn’t thrust into her. He didn’t have to. Bracing his elbows on either side of her head, he let the tide carry them.

  Each gentle roll of the boat’s hull rocked him deeper and deeper until he was drowning in her. Senses awakened by the elemental lure of woman and sea. The liquid flow of each movement matched the gentle rise and fall of the water. His eyes fixed on hers. His breaths grew fast and shallow. Every dip, slip, and thrust nudged them closer to the edge.

  Climax coiled low in his belly. Her hot, tight walls closed around him, every muscle in her body contracting. And then the dam burst. Sharp fingernails bit into his back. He gave into the pleasure-laced pain and let the undertow pull him under.

  And when he surfaced, he found the girl of his dreams whispering one word over and over: Yes.

  He buried his face in her neck, unwilling to open his eyes, too afraid the fantasy would evaporate like the morning fog. A shiver raced over his skin when she trailed her fingernails down his spine. Lifting his head, he forced himself to look her in the eye, but when he reached for the right words he came up empty.

  Brooke squirmed beneath him. Her cheeks glowed, flushed like the pinks and peaches of sunrise over the ocean. Her hair was tangled and mussed by his hands. A wry smile curved her kiss-swollen lips. “Why do I get the feeling you want to grade me?”

  “A.” He nodded but didn’t withdraw. “Straight A’s.” He leaned down to kiss her, his lips clinging to hers long after the kiss lost its purpose. The heady scent of sex enveloped them. He couldn’t wait to do it again.

  “We, uh… should get dressed,” she suggested weakly.

  “No.” Brian gave his head a brisk shake. “We’re fine right here. As a matter of fact, I don’t think we should ever get dressed again.”

  “Ever?”

  “We’ll stay here. Skinny dip after the sun goes down, make love until the sun comes up.”

  “It’s only lunchtime.”

  “I’m sure we can find some way to pass the afternoon.”

  “I’m supposed to be working.”

  Sobering, he heaved a sigh. “Fine. We’ll work. I’ll give you your first interview question.”

  “Oh, you will?” Her eyebrows shot up.

  He watched, entranced by the play of emotion across her face. “Yep.”

  “What? Another one of those hard-hitting questions you were texting to me?”

  Finally, indignation overpowered embarrassment, as he knew it would.

  “You don’t think I can conduct a proper interview without guidance?”

  “I’m sure you can,” he answered, shifting to relieve her of some of his weight. “I’m afraid you might miss some of the more pertinent angles.”

  She gaped at him. “Like what?”

  “I was thinking something like, ‘Mr. Dalton, exactly how long have you been lusting after this reporter?’ would be a nice start.”

  He cocked his head and peered down at her, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he kept a tight rein on it. At least until the meaning of his proposed query sank in. She stared at him, gratifyingly speechless.

  “Not bad, huh? I’m thinking about a career change. Maybe I should give the journalism thing a shot.”

  “No.”

  “After we bring big oil to its knees, I mean.” The smile took hold. “It’s going to happen, you know.”

  “You think?”

  “I got you on your knees, I figure I can’t lose. I’m on a roll.”

  She slapped his shoulder, but put no power behind the punch. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “We should negotiate terms.”

  “Terms, huh? Should I call your agent?”

  “I can handle these negotiations myself.” He held up a finger. “All research and interviews are to be conducted in the nude.”

  “Might make things a little awkward for Dr. Johnson.”

  “I bet he’d thank me, but you’re right.” He paused and pursed his lips, giving the matter deep thought. “All research and interviews involving the two of us will be conducted in the nude.”

  “Agreed.”

  She let her palms glide down his back and he collapsed onto her once more, his spine reduced to jelly by one gentle caress. Eager to get a little of his pride back, he tilted his head and fixed her with a speculative gaze as he let another finger pop up. “Two, you hand over the blue ribbon.”

  “You call this negotiation?”

  “My experiment was far superior to yours.”

  She fixed him with a glare so cool it burned red-hot. “Tell me, Mr. Dalton, exactly how long have you been lusting after this reporter?”

  He kissed her hard and fast, but he grinned as he answered the question. “Too damn long.”

  Chapter 8

  The boat rocked beneath them as Brooke lobbed softball questions at Brian. He answered the ones he felt like answering while peppering her with kisses. As always, her concentration was remarkable. She wasn’t going to be distracted, and he damn well knew it. Still, he had to try.

  “Why didn’t you take their offer?”

  His head jerked up like a puppet on a string. Her stare was frank and inescapable. And there it was: the missile among the miscellanea. She asked the blunt question, and it turned him on far more than it pissed him off.

  He backed his way off the bunk anyway. The last thing he wanted was to answer bitter questions when nestled between her sweet thighs. “What offer?”

  “You know what offer.”

  Leaning against the bulkhead, he drew three deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, he found her waiting with unruffled patience.

  She was gorgeous, and her being stark naked had surprisingly little to do with it. Every new facet he uncovered was a revelation. Brooke seemed to shift and reform with each time he blinked. Like a kaleidoscope of gorgeous pink and gold hues. A crazy amalgamation of the determined girl everyone underestimated because she happened to be born beautiful, and the fierce competitor he faced every day for twelve years. She was still the popular teenager who ruled the school with smiles instead of scorn, but she’d morphed into a confident woman who never felt the need to prove she was smarter than most everyone else.

  She knew exactly who she was and what she had to back it up. And she had him backed into a corner. Buck naked.

  He’d licked every inch of her sweet skin while she tossed questions worthy of an entertainment magazine at him. He’d circled the shallow divot of her navel and was heading straight for the promised land when she smacked him right between the eyeballs with the million dollar question.

  Or, in his case, the 6.3 million dollar question.

  He was opening his mouth to speak when she surprised him by switching off the voice recorder on her cell phone and tossing it aside. He’d hoped to distract her when he set off on his quest to map the topography of her body. He should have known better.

  “You were approached as a possible consultant on their response plan.”

  He didn’t have to ask who “they” were. The minute the rig blew, the industry that pumped millions of dollars into the region by pumping millions of gallons of crude out of it became every Gulf Coast resident’s adversary.

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me this.”

  “It’s a legitimate question.” She shrugged. “I know they offered a boatload of money. Sources tell me they were willing to pay more than double what you were making with the Earth Channel.”

  In truth, the petroleum consortium offered three times his annual salary, but that didn’t make the thought of spinning the mess they created any more palatable. “Do you really think I turned them down because of the money?”

  It galled hi
m that people would think he’d consider working for the other side. Not because he was born and raised on the Gulf Shore, but because his entire life was wrapped up in the study of the very thing the disaster threatened to destroy.

  Brooke cast a sidelong glance. Her eyes softened and her lips curved. “No.”

  He fell for the come-hither look. Hook, line, and sinker. Her tangled hair gleamed in the slash of sunlight the porthole allowed. The rough upholstery left faint crosshatches on her belly, breasts, and thighs. A fine sheen of perspiration washed her skin in dewy peaches and pinks.

  He sank to the edge of the bed, heavy with the need to make her understand. “Never in a million years.”

  “But?”

  Drawing a deep breath, he studied her closely as he weighed his words. “But the good guys were after the same thing.”

  Three years after the disaster, the us-versus-them contention between big oil and those who lived and died on the gulf tides was as deeply ingrained in coast culture as snowbirds and shrimp. His lip curled. “They wanted a spokesmodel. To use my celebrity,” he snarled the word.

  “So you did public service ads and tourism spots.”

  “Which I did because this is my home.”

  Clenching his jaw, he tore his gaze from hers. The genuine bewilderment clouding her bright eyes made his stomach twist. For some reason, he’d hoped she’d understand without having to spell it out for her. Of all people, Brooke should have understood.

  “What am I missing?”

  The quiet concern in her voice broke down the wall of stubbornness he’d erected around his wounded pride. He dropped his chin and shook his head, desperately wanting to share the weight but unwilling to simply unload it.

  “You wanted to do more,” she concluded at last.

  Brian closed his eyes, letting the undiluted relief surge through him unchecked. She sat up abruptly and the notebook fell to the deck unheeded. Warm fingers closed around his wrist. Her breast pressed against his arm. She brushed a tender kiss to his shoulder before resting her cheek against the spot.