by Karen Rock
She’d pushed him away when he’d asked about Craig the other night. Now she drove him senseless, evading him in a different way. Yet he couldn’t ignore her or the all-consuming sexual attraction that crackled in the air between them.
He smoothed his hands over her shoulders, cupping the satin flesh. Just for a moment, he told himself. Then I’ll let her go. His mouth found the edge of her jaw and nibbled. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her into the cradle of his body.
“I want you,” she mumbled against his mouth, her hips twitching between his legs.
“What?” He blinked through the fog of lust and saw her white teeth flash in a smile. He couldn’t remember his name anymore, let alone what he’d come here to talk about.
She nipped his lower lip with a damp bite. “You heard me.”
He met her gaze and what he saw there shifted the ground out from under him faster than any sea-washed deck.
No teasing. No flirtation. Just the same unadulterated passion, the same fierce need that blasted through him. She wanted him. And he wanted her.
Suddenly, she dropped to the edge of the bed. Her T-shirt rode up, revealing an expanse of tawny, smooth leg, causing his adrenaline to surge, his heart to chug the way it did before he leaped into rough seas. Before he could respond, Nolee slid a hand up his thigh, slowly caressing the muscles there, stopping just short of his now straining erection. Heavy desire flooded his veins.
“Nolee,” he rasped as she lowered the zipper of his jeans and reached for him, tracing a path down the front of his shaft with two silky fingers.
The fire he’d been suppressing inside him threatened to consume him whole. It was a struggle to fight against the urges pounding in his brain. Resisting her was a losing battle. His noble reasons for doing so began slipping away, receding, taking with them the last of his resistance.
“Oh, Nolee.” Holy hell, that felt good.
“Shhhh,” she whispered, her breath warm against his groin as she eased down his pants. After he’d kicked them off, she bent over him, her hair brushing his thighs. “Talk later.”
And then her lips were on him, slowly mouthing his damp tip, and he lost his train of thought. His mind, too, as her tongue darted out and flicked the head of his cock, circled. Her eyes rolled up to meet his, her mouth suckling with excruciating slowness. She was driving him crazy.
Fuck it, he thought, I can’t fight this. He threaded his hands in her dark tangle of hair and tugged her down, urging her to take more of him in. Then her mouth completely engulfed him. Slick and urgent. A jolt of hot pleasure sizzled through him, and with a groan, he feasted his eyes on the erotic sight of Nolee’s plump lips gliding over him. Her tongue ran rogue up and down his length, dragging a deep growl from his throat, while she palmed his buttocks, squeezing.
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, shuddering as she repeated that deliberate, wet glide, again and again, until he was mindless. The undiluted sensation of her soft lips and tongue brought him closer and closer to an incredible brink. He held off coming by sheer will, but each erotic draw of her mouth, each long lick, each flick of her tongue pushed him closer to the edge. But when he went over, he wanted her to be with him. Wanted to feel all of her wrapped around him. Wanted to watch her come.
He had to move her before she tempted him past the point of no return.
“Nolee.” Her name was a plea for mercy, his muscles so taut he could scarcely move. “Sweetheart, you need to—”
He almost didn’t make it, but she paused just then to peer up at him and see what he wanted. That reprieve saved him. Just.
He hauled her up against his body and his mouth landed on hers with none of the teasing skills he used with other women. This kiss was hot and out of control, his tongue stroking hers with unrestrained hunger as he eased her down onto the rumpled quilt. Clumsy with need, he slid her shirt up and over her head before he yanked off his clothes and tossed them into a corner. Then he pulled up short at the sight of her naked, delectable frame.
Wow.
She’d leveraged herself up on her elbows and the view of her, lean and curvy, ripped the air from his lungs. Froze his body then torched it an instant later.
Full breasts, round and firm, rode high on her slender torso. A delicate waist flared out into slim hips that made his mouth flood. His best memory of her couldn’t do justice to the temptress in front of him. He reached for her long before he’d looked his fill. Nolee whimpered as he dipped his hand into her panties.
“Your turn,” he whispered before brushing past the silky fine hair to cup her mound, absorbing her feminine heat. She was wet and ready for him, leaving his fingers slick. He brought one digit to his mouth for a taste. The scent of her arousal drove his hunger higher.
She groaned low in her throat and her whole body strained toward him, her back arching, her breasts lifting, her hips thrust more fully against his hand. The appealing sound was earthy and animalistic, like a call only he could respond to.
Her voice nudged up an octave when he slipped one finger inside her to find the source of her heat. Slick and wet, she squeezed him even as she welcomed him, her body going limp as she sank into his touch, trembling. His every muscle flexed, hardened, strained to be a part of her, to get inside her and soak up all of that silky warmth.
“Dylan,” she breathed, full throated, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
The sight of her, undone, her control gone, her body quivering just for him, filled him with deep masculine pride and a ferocious possessiveness.
He wanted to make her scream just for him. To take her places no one else could. A damn selfish thought for a guy who had no plans to stay in Kodiak and be the kind of man Nolee deserved.
More than anything, he wanted to share that bone-deep, earth-shattering connection and release only she had ever been able to get from him. The fierceness of that need gripped him with a force he couldn’t deny. He would give her everything he could tonight, though not nearly all he wanted with so much still holding him back.
Not even close.
8
NOLEE SANK HER fingers deeper into Dylan’s broad shoulders, realizing she’d made a huge mistake in using her body to distract him from his question about Craig. Now things had gone too far for her to stop.
Or to want to.
Not when his touch burned her clean through, her blood surging, clamoring need filling her. He was cupping her tingling breasts in his hands and low moans flew from her. When he rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the pleasure knifed straight through her to swirl low in her abdomen.
She felt her body tightening up inside, knew the signs of an orgasm waiting to happen. If she gave herself to him so completely, would she ever get herself back?
“Dylan, wait—” she began, desperate to slow this runaway train she’d stoked to life. Or at least seize back control. He’d turned the tables on her, and she needed to command this moment. It was barreling ahead without her knowing which direction it might take.
He rubbed the black triangle of her panties with two teasing fingers until Nolee thought she’d jump right out of her skin. “I want us to—”
He kissed the rest of the words away and paused the gentle massage that had her flailing on the edge.
“You first.” He pressed his thumb against the throbbing center of her, no doubt feeling the racing pulse of that tender spot. “I can’t wait to taste you again.”
His words nearly undid her. If he hadn’t removed the exquisite pressure of his thumb, she would have tumbled right over the edge.
Wrapping her legs around his body, she kept him close, craving the release that only he had ever given her. Her thoughts grew scattered. Even speaking took an enormous amount of effort. She could only feel, her every nerve tightly attuned to Dylan’s touch. With every inhale she drank in more of t
he scent of his skin. The whiskey-tinged aroma of his breath.
When he slid her panties off, the rasp of his harsh intake of air filled her ears. She didn’t think it was possible for the tension to coil any more intensely inside her, but at his intimate stare, her body responded with more heat. More hunger. More all-consuming need. A terrifying, exhilarating tide of powerlessness surged through her, pulling her under, sending her spinning. Tumbling.
When his gaze finally met hers, there was something dark and possessive flickering in his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Nolee.”
“Me, too,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten exactly how to stir up a strong response from her, and her body remembered him, too, his touch just as she’d replayed it all these years.
Suddenly it didn’t matter what had happened before or what would happen tomorrow. How much he understood about her or couldn’t. What she wanted was to lose herself in the here and now, and to wring every ounce of pleasure from it that she could.
He lowered his face to kiss her full on the mouth while his fingers settled between her legs again. Sparks lit behind her eyes. He drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked gently, making her hips writhe in automatic response. She drenched his hand with her want.
He broke their kiss, skimmed his lips down her torso, then paused between her thighs. At the first flick of his tongue, the shudders started. She arched back, her hips reflexively thrusting forward as he delved deeper. Probed longer. Pleasure tore through her in relentless waves, fed by his tongue administering long, sensual strokes. She couldn’t tell where one delectable pulse of her senses stopped and the next one began. She only knew her body undulated with streams of pleasure.
Fingers fisted in his hair, knees slung over his shoulders, she shook as Dylan coaxed her to a fiery orgasm. Her pelvis contracted so hard she twisted atop her quilt, her fingers gripping for something to hold on to before she dropped into sweet, pulsating oblivion.
Finally, when her body was spent, she slumped, boneless, against her pillows. The thick bedcovering bunched beneath her hips. Her legs sprawled helter-skelter across her mattress and her mind drifted, wasted by utter and total bliss.
She’d rediscovered a depth of pleasure she hadn’t experienced since Dylan left, yet still she craved more. Looping her arms around his neck, she drew him down on top of her, coaxing his mouth to hers again.
“Take me,” she whispered, no longer able to deny herself or him any longer. Her senses were too overloaded, her thoughts too scrambled with memories, feelings—and deep, hungry need.
“With pleasure,” he agreed, his husky voice full of naughty promise.
Vaguely, she sensed him undressing the rest of the way as she rained kisses over him, his heart thundering against hers as she tugged him closer, his naked upper body a taut block of sinewy muscle.
And then he was there between her thighs, his massive erection hot and hard. Every inch as thick and long as she remembered. A whimper escaped her throat, and she reached to touch him, feel him, stroke him into doing what she wanted. When he withdrew to roll on a condom, she nearly cried out with the aching loss her body felt.
An instant later, he loomed over her again, his sex sheathed and ready. Guiding her hips so that they angled toward him, he thrust inside her in one smooth motion. Her gasp grew into a shriek of delight at the way he stretched and filled her.
Suddenly she didn’t know if she would laugh or cry at the sense of homecoming. Of understanding and silent knowing. Their bodies recognizing each other. Communicating. Hers opening up to him, more vulnerable than she ever allowed herself to be. How she’d missed him, she thought. Missed this.
Slowly he withdrew, his eyes locked with hers, then buried himself again, deeper still, the tip of his cock so deep it pressed against her cervix. Delirious with the hard satin feel of him and the lush sensations he inspired, Nolee clung to Dylan, trusting him to bring them to new heights with each strong thrust of his hips.
Her eyes closed as he slid into her again, the exquisite pleasure made all the stronger by his slow and measured withdrawal, a torturous, almost military precision that was new. And excruciating. And thrilling. She wriggled beneath him, ready to take charge and give him the same kind of soaring bliss he was giving her, but he held her fast to maintain control.
And heaven help her, she couldn’t argue with someone who made her feel so...amazing. So ripe with lush sensuality. A woman, not a fisherman. Not a captain, or a lost girl who didn’t belong to anyone. Oh, how she wanted to belong to Dylan. Still. He hadn’t forgotten her. Them. Their old rhythms returned, the pleasure more acute, sharp, nearly painful for having gone so long without it.
He pinned her wrists over her head, stretching her out under his gaze and his touch while he brought his thrusts to a new level, picking up the tempo until her breath came in soft pants.
The air in the room changed, becoming electrically charged. The windowpane rattled with the wind and a cargo ship bellowed out from the distant sea. Nolee couldn’t staunch the growing tightness in her core, the coiled pleasure just waiting to untwine with the slightest—
“Ooh!” She was free-falling into a sea of spasms again, her whole body reverberating with the forceful waves of pleasure.
Dylan stilled above her, his wide cock straining impossibly inside her before he, too, couldn’t hold off his orgasm any longer. His whole gorgeous body shuddered with the strength of it, his hot chest coming to rest over hers.
Nolee’s world tipped with the gradual recognition of what had happened between them. It was still there after all this time, that incredible emotional connection. She wouldn’t have imagined it possible. The thought terrified her.
“Come here.” Dylan’s words rumbled thick and sexy in her ear, and he lowered himself beside her and pulled her into the tight circle of his arms. Enfolding her, sheltering her, his body curved around hers.
As if he could ever be a safe port for her heart, a place for her body to truly rest unguarded.
Only Dylan wielded such control over her and by sleeping with him tonight, she’d put herself at his mercy. She was an active participant in their worlds colliding again. And while she would make sure they proceeded with business as usual in the morning on the boat, Nolee knew nothing would ever be the same between them again.
* * *
“WELCOME TO THE DUTCH, SON,” Dylan said, clapping a heaving newbie, Tim Anders, on the back the following week. After seven days of grueling repair work, training crew and passing inspection, the Pacific Dawn had steamed out of port yesterday. They now drove through twenty-five-foot swells toward setting their first string of pots—about a hundred and fifteen miles northwest of Dutch Harbor.
Sniffing the briny air, feeling the chill, breeze-blown sea mist on his face, the slick deck rolling beneath his feet, Dylan relished the sheer size of the ocean. As a rescue swimmer, he was usually crouched inside a Jayhawk above it, his short bursts of intense water activity focused on rescuing others. But this—this enormous, ever-changing view—woke him up, his nerves jangling, stinging, as if he’d fallen asleep without knowing it.
He scanned the iridescent horizon, the dawning sky the color of a pearl, and swiped stinging salt water from his eyes. The sea was a sullen blue. Choppy and dull. The pitching deck kept the crew scrambling to keep their footing as heavy waves crashed over the rails, clawing and pounding at the vessel.
How was Nolee faring?
She’d been at the wheel for over eight hours and would go another eight before they finished today. He cast a quick glance up at the pilothouse window, glimpsing her outline through the spray-soaked glass as she steered the Pacific Dawn on this all-important set. It was anyone’s guess, at the start of the official season, where to locate a hot streak of crab. Experienced captains relied on old charts. Less experienced followed the fleet, listening in on radio chann
els to hear where other vessels hit it big.
Nolee, however, had gone in her own direction, miles from the rest of the fishing vessels, refusing his advice to radio his Uncle Bill for help.
No surprise there.
She seemed bent on doing things her own way, going it alone as she always had. It shouldn’t have caught him off guard when he’d woken alone the morning after their sensual escapade. Gone was the passionate, uninhibited woman who’d taken him by storm. In her place stood a stone-faced Nolee, Captain Nolee, who barked orders at her crew. She’d refused to meet his gaze when she’d taken him aside and told him sex had been a mistake, one she wouldn’t repeat or discuss again. Or any other topic. Including Craig.
Logic said to leave Nolee alone. They were friends. Or used to be. Definitely not lovers, despite that unforgettable night. Things between them hadn’t changed. She’d still never leave Kodiak for him, and he wouldn’t stay for her. But how to forget the most incredible sex of his life? The only woman to bring him such mind-blowing satisfaction?
He couldn’t stop reliving it, his body wracked with desire, desperate and hungry for more, his need for her far from quenched.
No.
It’d only increased. Being out at sea, working side by side, made his need even more demanding, the urge to have her all-consuming. He had to focus, to complete his mission aboard the Pacific Dawn. Train and supervise staff. Haul crab. Leave Nolee and Kodiak without a backward glance when he transferred to the States, with no worry, concern or regrets.
Yeah. Right.
Deep down, he knew he still wanted answers about Craig. For closure, he assured himself.
Did dudes care about that shit?
This one did.
“Aim it at the bait grinder. Your puke’s gotta have some herring in it,” called Flint.
At the old fisherman’s reference to the bait they’d made Tim bite the head off, a start-of-season tradition, the college dropout hurled another volley across the sea-washed deck. The boat rolled to the left and a wave smacked over the bow then retreated, carrying the mess with it.
