“Would you like to?”
Watching a sunrise over the lake with Michael Connelly was definitely something she’d like to do. The question was, should she?
The short answer was no, she shouldn’t. Every minute she spent with him now was only going to make it harder to leave later, and she did have to leave. Simon might already know where she was. Staying in Birch Falls would only bring him here, and that was the last thing she wanted. This was a nice place, with nice people who didn’t deserve that kind of trouble.
No, as much as she might wish otherwise, she could not have a relationship with Michael.
But you could have this moment, right now, a little voice murmured. And really, that’s all anyone had, wasn’t it?
“With you? Yes, I would. Very much.”
His resulting smile had an instant liquefying effect on her insides. No one had ever been able to melt her with just a look before, which only reinforced her decision. To stay a few steps ahead of Simon, she needed her insides solid and intact.
“How about I take you back to your place so you can get changed first? Don’t get me wrong, I think that little waitress uniform is sexy as hell, but riding up to the lake and back in that skirt won’t be comfortable for you.”
Bailey forgot to breathe for a few seconds. He thought she looked sexy? Self-conscious, she smoothed down the front and sides of her skirt.
He grinned wolfishly. “Too late, my lady. The damage is already done.”
Feeling very feminine, she took her place on the back of his bike, savoring the chance to wrap her arms around him again. Once again, the ride was too short. She’d barely had a chance to indulge in a single fantasy about what it would be like to straddle him while he was on the bike before he was pulling up in front of the building.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked, unsure of exactly what the protocol was.
“I think I’ll just wait out here, if you don’t mind.” He leaned against the cycle, casually crossing one ankle over the other. He looked so hot, so supremely male, it took her breath away. Until she realized he’d rejected her offer. Had she completely misread the situation?
“You don’t want to come in?”
His blazing eyes sent a wave of reassuring heat through her. One side of his mouth tilted up in a grin as he slowly shook his head from side to side. “I promised that I’d take you to see the sunrise over the lake.”
“Oh.”
“And if I stepped foot into your apartment, I doubt we’d be making it out anytime soon.”
For just a moment, the ground seemed to sway beneath her feet, and the word “swoon” popped into her mind. She inhaled sharply, drawing in much-needed oxygen to clear away the lusty fog that wrapped around her.
“Why is that?” she asked breathlessly.
“My lady,” he said with a tilt of his head, “I may be a knight, but I am not a saint.”
* * *
Bailey’s eyes widened slightly then softened, gifting him with a radiant smile. Then she cupped his face in her hands, threaded her fingers into his hair, and kissed him fully on the lips. Her tongue reached out and skimmed along his bottom lip, a silent request. He opened for her, groaning at the feel of her tongue sweeping along his.
Once again, she had surprised him by taking the lead. And once again, he was totally onboard with that. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. He could get lost in her, feeling the connection far beyond his lips. Heat swirled through him, flooding his veins with warmth that came not from her hot little body, but from somewhere much, much deeper.
He’d never experienced anything like it.
As much as he would have liked to explore those sensations more thoroughly, the sound of an approaching car and the sweep of oncoming headlights reminded him where they were. He broke the kiss reluctantly. Bailey remained close up against him, face lifted, eyes closed, lips parted and red.
“I take it your accounts are now paid in full?” he asked, his voice husky.
Those long, dark lashes rose slowly, right along with the devilish smile curling those ravished lips. “Not even close,” she murmured. “That was just a down payment.”
He groaned, because damn, and forced his hands to let go. “Go on with you, then. I’ll wait here.”
She nodded, looking as if she didn’t want to leave him any more than he wanted her to. It was almost enough for him to say the hell with it and save the sunrise for another day. The woman was temptation personified, stretching him to the limits of his self-control. Didn’t she have any idea how close he was to the breaking point? This raw, clawing need continued to grow (another sign that she was his croie), and was now to the point where it was downright scary.
He reminded himself that he was going for the big payoff. Not just her body, but her heart and soul as well.
And nothing less than forever would do.
When Bailey came out a few minutes later, Michael was glad he was still leaning against the bike, because his knees went positively weak. Heeled boots in black leather, body-hugging low-riding black jeans, a silky black camisole that gave teasing little flashes of a gold chain with some sort of charm around her navel, and a turquoise chamois shirt, left unbuttoned and hanging open.
In her right hand she carried a jacket of soft, black leather that she slid on as she walked, and a canvas backpack. Then she gathered her hair behind her, the motion fluid and practiced, to fasten it in a clip, allowing strands to fall loosely around her face. Michael caught additional flashes of fine gold chains along her ears, and knew they would match the one he’d glimpsed near her navel.
Sweet Mary, Mother of God. He swallowed hard, questioning the sanity of being anywhere alone with this woman looking like that. His heart thumped forcefully; his hands itched with the need to touch.
“Is this okay?” she asked as she approached the bike.
Michael nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
* * *
“Are you sure?” Bailey bit her lip and shifted nervously from one foot to the other, growing increasingly anxious by the second. Other than the tiny nod, Michael hadn’t moved an inch since she’d come out. It was as if he was frozen, turned to stone. Only his eyes moved, following her forward progress.
He blinked. Once.
“I’ll go change,” she said quickly, turning to run back into the building. She’d picked out the outfit carefully, but obviously she’d chosen poorly. She’d barely taken two steps before Michael was behind her, turning her as he pulled her into his arms and devouring her with his lips. His hands moved down her back and over her backside, pulling her closer against him. Once again she felt his solid steel shaft, pressing against the length of her belly to the underside of her breasts. Unlike his previous kisses, powerful but well-controlled, this one was wild, desperate.
And exactly what her flailing confidence had needed.
* * *
“Don’t change.” His voice was thick and raspy, his words spoken with great effort. He rested his forehead against hers, and forced his hands back up to the small of her back, while he tried to catch his breath. He was doing his best to move slowly with her, not an easy thing when his body was conspiring against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Bailey’s hands reached up and cupped his face, a moment before she pressed her lips back to his. Michael groaned and swept his tongue against hers, drinking in her sweetness as if his life depended on it. Given the way his heart was pounding, it just might.
“You look perfect, just the way you are.”
Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze unfixed and distant, and he thought it was the sexiest look in the world. At least until her eyes focused on his and filled with flames of pure desire. Yep, definitely sexier. His cock throbbed painfully against her warmth. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not toss her over his shoulder, carry her into her apartment, and claim her right then and there.
“Come on,” he said huskily, laci
ng his fingers briefly through hers. Even this simple connection with her felt amazingly intimate. “I promised you a sunrise.”
“Aye,” she whispered softly. “That you did.”
Those few words, spoken with the perfect lilt of an Irish maiden, were nearly his undoing. Michael hadn’t realized until that moment how much his heritage meant to him, or how deeply ingrained it was in him.
“Ah, lass, you doona wan’ ta be goin’ there,” he whispered against her ear, “’cause you wouldna be seein’ the sunrise anytime soon.”
Michael felt the full-body shiver that rippled through her, welcoming it with an internal shiver of his own. With great reluctance, he managed to release her, then mounted his bike with particular care. She glided gently behind him, wrapping herself around him like a second skin. Without another word, they rode away.
Chapter Six
It was amazing how quickly Bailey had taken to riding on the back of a motorcycle. She was a natural, with an excellent sense of balance. She became adept at recognizing even the slightest nuances in Michael’s movements, adjusting without conscious thought.
The ride was more difficult for Michael. Feeling her hands around his waist, her body pressed tightly against his for a prolonged period of time, was torture, but it was a torture he gladly endured. Being with his croie was a novel experience; it would take some time to adjust to the powerful urges clawing not only at his body, but his heart and mind as well.
It was still dark when they arrived at the lake. The sky was an incredible shade of velvety midnight blue with a myriad of stars, reflected upon the still water along with the final traces of a waning crescent moon. Michael parked the bike in the small gravel lot and led her up a slight incline to a scenic spot overlooking the eastern shore.
“There,” he said, indicating the large, flat rock ledge a short distance away. “Best seat in the house for a sunrise, guaranteed.” He helped her up onto the rock, getting a delicious view of her ass in the process, before climbing up himself. He withheld his groan, but just barely. Through no fault of her own, she wasn’t making this any easier by being so damn desirable.
Bailey produced a small blanket from the pack she’d brought along, and proceeded to spread it out. Michael raised an eyebrow, glad for the distraction, however slight.
“Seemed like a good idea,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“It was,” he agreed. He lowered himself onto it, leaning back against the incline, wishing he had thought of it himself. Normally he was well-prepared for a mission, but organized, practical thoughts seemed to fly out the window when it came to her.
Michael patted the space in front of him in invitation. Bailey eased herself between his thighs, resting her back against his chest. “Is this okay?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Perfect.” His arms slid beneath hers so that his hands rested comfortably on her belly. She snuggled into him a little more. Some of the fire in his blood settled with the contact, a soothing stroke to his ragged need. If he couldn’t be inside her, than having her soft, fragrant weight pressing against him was the next best thing.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” she answered. “You’re very warm.”
Honey, I’m going to burst into flames if I get any warmer.
Her temple rested against his jaw, her silken waves teased his neck. He couldn’t help himself; he turned slightly and pressed his lips to her soft, supple skin.
“Mmmm. That’s nice,” she breathed.
Yeah, it was. And since he didn’t want it to end any time soon, he forced himself to behave.
They sat like that for a while, enjoying the quiet serenity. It was a beautiful spot off the beaten path, one known only to a few. He, Johnny, and Lina had discovered it when they were kids, having spent most of their summers at the family’s cabin nearby.
Just down below and to the right was one of his father’s favorite fishing spots. And to the left, the evergreen-laden shore jutted out in a slight curve, hiding them from the nearby public boat launch.
With her body tucked close and his arms resting lightly over her waist, Michael closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. For as jacked up as he was, he felt oddly at peace, too. That restlessness that had been nagging him as of late, for most of his life, really, was noticeably absent.
He wondered again at the silent, mysterious, formidable power of croies.
“So...” she finally said, “did you take care of whatever you had to do tonight?”
Her voice was casual, but he heard the undercurrent behind the words. He’d hoped she wouldn’t ask, but he wasn’t surprised that she had, either.
“Yes.”
“Did it have anything to do with the guy that was harassing me?”
Should he tell her the truth? That, after finding the hypodermic needles, sedatives, ropes, and rolls of duct tape in Rob’s car, he’d beaten the son-of-a-bitch to within an inch of his life? Tell her that imagining what Rob might have done to her if he’d gotten her out of Tommy’s made him lose his shit? That the only reason he wasn’t facing murder charges was because Kyle and Johnny had pulled him off the guy at the last minute?
He wanted her to feel safe. To know that as long as he was around, she never had to be afraid again. At the same time, he was concerned that the lengths to which he was willing to go to ensure her safety might be more than she could handle at this pivotal stage of their relationship. Just because he’d come to the realization that she was his future didn’t mean that she had.
Yeah, he was intense. Yeah, he had the knowledge and skills to do some damage. And yeah, he protected what was his (which now included her). On some level, she probably already sensed that or she wouldn’t have run into his arms. She’d learn about the rest soon enough. But, since her trust was still new and fragile, he’d keep the detailed disclosures to a minimum.
“Does the name Robert White mean anything to you?”
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Is that his name?”
“What do you know about him?” he asked.
Her body shifted; beneath his hands, he felt her stomach tighten, then release. “I already told you. I saw him around town a few times, and last night he came on to me at the bar.”
“That’s all?”
Another shift. “Yeah. Why?”
Not outright lies, but she wasn’t telling him everything, either, which worried him. With the known threat eliminated, her fear should be, too, but his gut was telling him there was more.
“Because he had things in his car that suggested he had more in mind than a good time.”
* * *
Bailey felt the color drain from her face, glad Michael was behind her and couldn’t see it. “Like what?”
With her head resting against his jaw, she both heard and felt the grinding of his teeth before he answered.
“Tell me, Michael.”
“Rope. Sedatives. Tape. Pictures of you. He’s obsessed with you, Bailey. Based on his setup, I don’t think you’re the first woman he’s targeted.”
Icy dread slithered down the length of her spine, making her shiver. Her instincts had been right, telling her it was time to run. Either the guy was some kind of serial psycho, or had been hired to abduct her and take her to Simon. She was betting on the latter, all but confirming her worst fears.
“It’s okay,” Michael said softly, holding her close. “He won’t be bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, ever again.”
She wanted to ask exactly how he knew that then decided she didn’t want to know.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Bailey.”
That was the second time he’d said those words to her, and both times, she’d believed him. But the situation had changed, and he had no idea what he was up against.
She thought briefly of confiding in him, but dismissed the idea almost as quickly. Michael might be a strong, capable protector, but S
imon was powerful, with nearly unlimited funds at his disposal, and a long reach.
Besides, for all of her romantic fantasies, Bailey was a practical person. Michael was being attentive, but she didn’t believe for one minute that he was falling for her the same way she was for him.
Oh, she knew about Michael Connelly and his reputation with the ladies. It was hard not to when you lived in a small town like Birch Falls and worked in a place like O’Leary’s. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, and she’d heard a lot of it over the past six months. Michael Connelly’s name had come up several times, a popular topic of conversation among the young, single, female locals that appeared at the diner after the bars closed.
It was hard to reconcile the Michael they spoke of with the quiet, sweet man who showed up every Friday night for coffee. He was every bit as drop-dead gorgeous as she’d heard, but had none of the full-on ego of the lady killer that she’d expected. Instead he had an almost shy, boyish smile, and when he spoke, it was with a low, musical cadence. In all the times she’d seen him, he’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman.
And the way he held her, as if she was truly special to him, was playing havoc with her reason.
Part of her had begun to wonder if all of those rumors hadn’t been more wishful thinking than anything else. After all, she’d entertained some pretty explicit fantasies about him herself.
And while she was seriously considering making some of those fantasies a reality very, very soon, she could not allow her heart to be broken in the process. She could have this morning. Then it was time to move on, before anyone found out the truth.
Before she lost any more of her heart to him.
* * *
Off in the distance, the sky began to lighten into the softest pastel shades of blue, green and yellow. Michael couldn’t remember when holding a woman felt so good. Probably never, since he’d never had a woman he’d wanted to simply hold in his arms.
Then again, he’d never been with his croie before. Even sitting here, the rhythmic beat of their hearts the only communication, he could feel his soul beginning to knit with hers.
Michael (Connelly Cousins #3) Page 6
