“You’ve got my word of honor.”
The Cliff House was a restaurant with a reputation for excellent food and an extensive list of imported wine. Brand was mildly surprised that the establishment would sanction the type of entertainment his friends had planned.
The receptionist smiled warmly when Romano announced Brand’s name, and she gingerly led them to a banquet room off the main dining room.
“Hey, you guys went all out,” Brand muttered under his breath as they followed the petite Chinese woman.
“Nothing but the best,” Romano assured him, still grinning.
Several shouts and cheers of welcome went out when the two men walked into the room. Brand was handed a bottle of imported German beer and a basket of thick pretzels and led to a table in the front of the room.
“Are you ready to be entertained?” Romano asked, claiming the empty chair beside him. He reached for a bowl of mixed nuts and leaned back, eager for the show.
Brand nodded. He might as well get this over with first thing and be done with it. He forced a smile and a relaxed pose while two of the crewmen from the Blue Ridge rolled out a six-foot-tall box tied up with a large red bow. It wasn’t a cake, but close enough.
“You’re supposed to untie the ribbon,” Romano explained, urging him forward.
Reluctantly Brand stood and walked up to the front of the room. There must have been fifty men—and several women—all standing around, intently watching him. He tried to act nonchalant, as if he did this sort of thing every day.
He lifted one end of the broad red ribbon and tugged, expecting it to fall open. It didn’t, and he was offered loud bits of advice by the men on the floor.
Brand tried a second time, tugging harder. The ribbon fell away, and the four sides of the box lazily folded open. Brand wasn’t exactly sure what he expected. His mind filled with several possibilities for which he was mentally prepared. But what did appear left him speechless with shock.
“Hello, Brand,” Erin greeted with a warm smile as she stepped forward. She was wearing the same olive-green dress as in the picture she’d sent. For a wild moment, Brand was convinced she was a figment of his imagination. She had to be.
“Say something,” Romano shouted. “Don’t just stand there looking like a bump on a log.”
“Erin?”
Her brown eyes had never been wider. “You’re disappointed?”
“Sweet heaven, no,” he groaned, reaching for her, dragging her into the shelter of his arms.
Chapter Ten
Brand blinked, unable to believe Erin was so soft against his body. Perhaps he was hallucinating. All the lonely months they’d spent apart might have dulled his senses. Was he so desperate for her that his mind had mystically forced her to materialize?
Brand didn’t know, but he was about to find out. In a heartbeat, his mouth came crashing down on hers. She was real. More real than he dared remember. Soft. Sweet. And in his arms.
Low, guttural sounds made their way up his throat as he slanted his mouth over hers. The men behind him were hooting and cheering, but Brand barely heard them above Erin’s small cry of welcome.
He felt the tears slide down her face, and he loved her so much that it was all he could do not to break down and weep himself. He kissed her again, sliding his tongue along hers, deep, deeper, into the honey-sweet depths of her mouth.
The boisterous shouts from behind him reminded Brand that, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t continue to make love to Erin. At least not in front of several dozen of his peers. Pulling away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“Are you surprised?” Romano teased, joining him in the front of the room and slapping him hard across the back.
Unable to speak, Brand nodded. His eyes, insatiable and greedy, locked with Erin’s. He couldn’t resist hugging her once more. Wrapping his arms around her, he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of lavender and musk that was hers alone. He’d dreamed of this moment so often and now it was all coming to pass, and he couldn’t believe it was happening.
He gazed into the sea of faces watching him, unable to express the gratitude in his heart.
“Come on, Lieutenant,” Catherine Fredrickson instructed, “sit down before you make a fool of yourself. Dinner’s about to be served.” He and Catherine had worked together for nearly four years, and he was an admirer of hers. Their relationship was probably a little unusual, when he thought about it. Catherine was a friend, and he’d never thought of her as anything more. It worried him that Erin might feel threatened by the lieutenant commander.
“We brought out the dessert early,” another friend teasingly called out to him.
Keeping Erin close to his side, Brand led the way to their table. Several friends came forward, eager to introduce themselves to Erin. Many had worked with her father at one time or another and were interested in news of the fun-loving Casey MacNamera.
No matter how many people spoke to him, or commanded his attention, Brand couldn’t take his eyes off his beautiful Irish miss for more than a few seconds. His gaze was magnetically drawn back to her again and again.
Erin’s gaze seemed equally hungry. A myriad of emotions scored Brand, many of which he couldn’t have identified. All he knew, all he wanted to know, was that Erin was sitting at his side. His heart swelled with a love so strong that it made him weak.
Men gathered around him. Friends asked him questions. Dinner was served. Brand laughed, talked, ate and did everything else that was required of him. But every now and again his eyes would slide to Erin’s, and they’d nearly drown in each other’s presence.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Not so strikingly attractive that her loveliness called attention to herself, but her rare inner quality of strength and gentleness shone through.
“How long have you known about this?” he whispered, twining their fingers.
“A month.” She smiled shyly. “The longest month of my life.”
“Mine, too.” He braced his forehead against hers and breathed in the warm scent of her. It was in his mind, then and there, to tell her how much he loved and needed her. But emotion constricted the muscles of his throat, making speech difficult.
“Here,” Romano said, slapping a set of keys on the tabletop.
Brand didn’t understand.
“Take the car,” he instructed.
“Your car? But how will you get home?” Brand realized his speech was too sporadic to make sense.
“Ginger,” Romano answered with a chuckle. “Now get out of here before someone gives you a reason to stay.”
Brand didn’t need a second invitation. He stood, his fingers linked with Erin’s. He took a long detour around the room, shaking hands with his comrades, wanting to thank his friends for the biggest—and by far the best—surprise of his life.
When he’d finished, he walked purposefully out of the restaurant.
“Oh, Brand…” Erin whispered once they were alone together. She seemed at a loss to continue.
Brand understood. For weeks he’d been planning what he wanted to say to her. His intention was to logically, intellectually lead her to the conclusion that they should do as he’d suggested months earlier and marry. He planned to tackle each one of her objections with sound reasoning and irrefutable logic. But every word he’d prepared sailed straight into the sunset without ever reaching his lips. All that mattered to Brand in that moment was holding her, loving her.
He gently brought her into his arms and buried his face in the delicate curve of her neck. Brand felt the series of quivers that racked her shoulders and moved down her spine. He pulled her flush against him in an effort to comfort her. Her tears dampened his neck, and her warm breath fanned his throat.
Holding her this close was torment of another kind. Her soft breasts caressed his hard chest, and her stomach was flattened against his. All torture should be this incredibly sweet, he reasoned.
He laid his hand on her hair
, filled his fingers with it, savoring the silky smoothness of the thick auburn tresses.
“Let’s get out of here,” Brand whispered when he could endure the pleasure of holding her no longer.
“Where?”
If they went back to his place, there was no question in his mind that she’d spend the night in his bed. No doubt Romano and the others assumed that was exactly what would happen. Maybe Erin was thinking the same thing herself. He didn’t know.
His heart and body were greedy for her. But his need wasn’t so voracious that it blocked out sound judgment. He wanted Erin as his lover, but sharing a bed with her wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him. If he was looking for sexual gratification, he could find that with any number of women.
He yearned for much more from Erin. He wanted her for his wife, and he wasn’t willing to settle for anything less.
Brand helped her into the car. He noted when he started the engine that Erin’s hands were clenched together in her lap. She was nervous. A slow smile worked its way across his mouth. What the hell, he was as tense as she was. Only in his case he was too sophisticated to show it.
“Where are we going?” she asked in a voice so small he could scarcely make out the words.
“The beach.”
She relaxed at that, tucking her hand under his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder as he steered the car out of the parking lot. The warm, soothing wind whipped past them as Brand drove the narrow, twisting road down the steep hillside. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, and the silver light of a full moon reflected against the crashing waves of the surf.
Walking hand in hand down the sandy embankment, Brand led the way toward the water. The night was warm and the beach empty.
Brand paused once they reached the ocean, faced her and wrapped his arms around her trim waist, holding on to her. Her eyes met his, and he read the confusion and the doubts. Now wasn’t the time for either.
“There’s so much I planned to tell you,” Erin murmured, seeming to search for the right words to say to him.
“Later,” he whispered before his mouth met hers. “We have all the time in the world to straighten out our problems. For now, love me.”
She moaned and slipped her arms up his chest, leaning into him as she gave him her mouth. Their kiss was like spontaneous combustion, their need for each other fierce and compelling. His tongue breached the barrier of her lips and plundered deep and long. All ten of his fingers sank into her hair as their kisses, tempered with tenderness, delved deeper and deeper. Sweeter than anything Brand had ever known. Slowly he ran his hands over her shoulders and the sides of her waist to her hips, finally cupping her buttocks. He drew her up slightly until her abdomen settled naturally over the hard imprint of his growing need. For an elongated second neither of them moved. Then Erin, his sweet, innocent Erin, started to rub against him, creating a hot friction, a burning need, that all but devoured him. Each sway of her hips, each rotation, eradicated every shred of reason Brand possessed.
“Ah, Erin,” he rasped. Feverishly he tore his mouth from hers, hoping the cool air would clear his head. But it did little to help.
Her mouth. Her sweet, delectable mouth tasted even better than he’d fantasized. He couldn’t seem to taste enough of her, and each kiss only quickened his appetite for more.
Even through the thick fabric of her dress he could feel her nipples harden. Her breasts felt lush and full, pressed as they were against his chest. Ripe. He remembered how they felt in his hands, how they’d filled his palms, spilled over. Unable to resist, his thumbs skirted over her nipples.
She moaned softly as his fingers fumbled with the row of buttons until the first several were free. He slipped the top partway down her shoulders and was challenged by her teddy and bra.
“Are so many clothes necessary?” he moaned, then alternated his attention from one breast to the other, his mouth closing over the material, making wet circles in the satin.
“Yes, all these clothes are necessary,” she whispered, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.
He wanted her. Then. There. His need was so great that a thin film of sweat broke out over his body. Brand closed his eyes and gnashed his teeth in an effort to rein in the desire that coursed through him like liquid fire, gathering inevitably in his loins.
Erin stepped away from him and slowly, purposefully, unfastened the buttons of her dress, letting it slip to the sand.
“W-what are you doing?” Dear sweet heaven, she was going to make this impossible.
She smiled boldly up at him. “Let’s swim.”
Brand was about to remind her that neither of them had a suit when she started running toward the water.
“Erin,” he called after her, and at the same moment he sank to the sand and started unlacing his shoes. Five years in Hawaii and he’d never once done anything so crazy. She was out in the surf, splashing away like a dolphin, and he was struggling to remove his pants, which he sent flying into the night. Without bothering to unbutton his shirt, he slipped it over his head, balled it in his fist and impatiently hurled it down on the beach.
By the time he joined her, Erin was waist-deep in the surf, holding her arms out to him. “Come in, Lieutenant, the water’s fine.”
“If you’d wanted to swim, I’d have preferred to wait until I had on a suit, and not a double-breasted one.”
“I’m double-breasted,” she teased, leaping up and down in the water like a porpoise to give him a tantalizing view of her breasts. Brand was certain she had no idea how much she was revealing. When wet, the white satin material of her bra was as transparent as glass. She might as well be nude for all the cover her underthings afforded her.
With unhurried strides, Brand walked toward her. The tide slapped against his long legs, but he refused to pause, his pace uniform and steady.
“Besides,” she added with a taunting grin. “We both needed to cool off, don’t you agree?”
“I had everything under control.”
“No, you didn’t, and neither did I.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as a tiny shiver went through her.
“This craziness is supposed to cool us off?” he muttered under his breath. If anything, Brand was hotter than ever. Her nipples had beaded, the dark aureoles pointing directly at him, commanding his attention. The ends of her hair were wet and dripping lazily onto her smooth shoulders. The salt water rolled down her creamy white neck and into the valley between her breasts. Everything seemed to point in that direction, including his gaze.
When she was a few yards away from him, Erin floated into his arms. Her body was warm and slippery as she locked her arms around his neck, and her long legs folded over his hips. The instant her weight settled against him, she felt the strength of him. Slowly she raised her soft gaze to his, and her eyes widened slightly.
“Brand?”
“As you can see, your plans have backfired, my dear.”
“Now what?”
She shifted her weight slightly, scooting her derriere over the protrusion, and in the process nearly unmanned him. She was too innocent to understand what she was doing to him. If this continued much longer, they’d end up making love while standing waist-deep in the surf.
“Let me taste you,” he pleaded, his voice low and guttural.
As though in a trance, Erin nodded. She reached back and unfastened her bra. Her breasts fell free of the restraining material and settled against the water-slicked planes of his chest. Her nipples, pouting prettily, felt so hot, so gloriously wonderful against his cool skin, that for a second he forgot to breathe.
She must have felt it, too, because her breath caught softly then. Clenching handfuls of his hair, she began to move, circling her breasts against him, creating a delicious, indescribable friction.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned as he lifted her higher, sliding his open mouth across her breasts, creating a slick trail, sucking lightly from one breast and then the other, loving the taste of her. His mouth closed ar
ound her, and he gloried in the untamed eagerness of her response.
Her hands were in his hair, and she was making low whimpering sounds. He languidly paid attention to each breast, rolling his tongue around the passion-beaded nipple, sucking strongly, then gentling the action.
Between sighs and moans Erin encouraged him to take more and more of her into his mouth, her voice soft and trembling as she pleaded, rotating her hips against him, her feet digging into the small of his back.
Brand had reached the limit of his endurance. “Erin,” he begged, “Oh, baby, hold still…please.”
“No…oh, Brand, I…don’t think I can…It feels so good.”
“I know, baby, I know. Too good.”
She gently thrashed against him. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
Brand willingly complied. Her mouth opened under the force of his, and her tongue met his in joyous union. The slow, smooth gyration of her hips against him caused the blood to rush to his head until he feared he would lose his footing. He felt as powerless against Erin as he was against the flow of the tide.
His hand slipped inside the wide leg of her tap pants and over her bare derriere. Then, slowly, gradually, he slipped his fingers toward the warm, moist opening of her womanhood. She opened to him like a rosebud responding to the warming rays of the sun. Her pulsating warmth closed around him, and she started to whimper as he gently claimed possession of the innermost part of her body.
Making panting sounds, Erin squeezed her eyes closed and began to move against him, her actions countering his. Her nails dug deep into the thick muscles of his shoulders, but he felt no discomfort as her mouth hungrily latched on to his, her tongue boldly searching out his. He felt her climax and sensed the pulsating waves of undiluted pleasure as she relaxed heavily against him.
Gradually, her eyes opened, and their gazes held for a long moment. Brand loved her so much that he thought his pounding heart would explode in his chest. She smiled at him. Shyly. Almost apologetically. Her look was so tender that he could have drowned in it.
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