She ran her hands down his back, over his hips, pulling him even closer. The pleasure of her silken flesh against his tore through him. He adjusted their bodies until he rubbed, hard and insistent, against the notch at her thighs.
Her gasps filled the room, pushed at his control. Lightening filled the room. He pulled away, wanting to rein in his hunger, wanting to give her pleasure unimagined.
“Slow down,” he said, but the words were intended for himself.
Blair stared at Michael with unabashed hunger. At his beautiful face, his incredible chest, the hard evidence of his aroused sex straining at his shorts. The touch of his hands caressing, rubbing, propelled her into action.
She stroked the crisp hair of his chest in search of his nipples. She circled with her thumbs, watched his eyes darken, felt the tiny nubs harden. Stepping close, she kissed the line of his collarbone, tasted his flesh, traced a path to his nipple. His groan, deep and masculine, reverberated through her. She kissed her way to his stomach, careful of the bandage. Straightening, she concentrated on the single snap of his shorts.
Rain slashed the window as she fumbled, her fingers clumsy. The sound of his zipper caused shivers of anticipation to form along her skin. She could feel him, hard and heavy, against the backs of her hands. The parted material revealed blue patterned boxers. He pushed both boxers and shorts down.
Lightning washed the room in light as she touched him.
He kicked free of his clothes, his eyes fastened to hers.
“Maybe you should lie down.” The sound of her voice, so tight, surprised her.
“Probably so,” he said with a soft laugh. He pulled her toward the bed and stretched out, his incredibly aroused body hers for this moment in time. A feeling of power, of destiny, washed over her.
She straddled his thighs, her body aching for his. He pulled her over him, adjusting so that his erect flesh rubbed where she most wanted him.
Lightning crackled overhead, thunder rolled, wind and rain slashed against the window. Inside, heated breaths praised touches remembered. He nudged her thighs further apart and she rose over him. Moments later he was pushing inside her, driving, pulling gasps of pleasure from her.
He thrust upward, then froze, straining. In the stillness she tried to adjust to the invasion, tried to calm jittery flesh that hovered on the brink of release. She eased herself down more and felt his flesh leap inside her. He reached up and took a nipple into his mouth.
The pressure of him inside her, ready to burst, the pressure of his mouth, so tight, undid her. She slid into climax, moving her hips until the pleasure stopped her.
He moved, driving himself deeper, harder, faster. She fell forward, her breasts against his chest, his hands on her hips, controlling her movements. She felt the waves again as Michael’s head fell back, his neck exposed to her.
His pleasure shuddered through her as the storm outside raged.
***
“How many of those did you buy?” Michael asked against Blair’s neck.
“Ten.”
“Why not more?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was making demands.”
His laugh rippled through their joined bodies. “Niña, right now, the thought of two is enough to deflate me.”
He felt her hands explore his chest, felt her shift around him. Felt his instant response.
She smiled down at him. “Deflate you?”
Chapter 10
Michael kissed Blair gently on the lips and rolled onto his back.
“Are you okay?” Blair asked against his shoulder.
“Mmhm,” he replied, too lazy to talk.
She felt gently for the bandage at his waist.
“I haven’t sprung a leak,” he said, holding her hand.
Apparently satisfied, Blair scooted more fully against him, resting her head on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his. She sighed.
Tangling one hand in her hair, he began, “Blair—”
“Don’t.” She tensed in his arms. “Don’t say anything about why or tomorrow. Please.”
He wanted words. Needed those he hadn’t spoken six years earlier. Words of love if not of commitment. But they would remain unspoken. She couldn’t commit to the man who would ruin her brother.
She readjusted herself against him. “This is a place out of time. Let’s leave it that way. No recriminations. No second guesses. We don’t have the time for them.”
Pushing aside his grim thoughts, he smiled against her hair. “I don’t think I can manage more.”
She elbowed him lightly. “You know what I mean.”
He did understand. She didn’t.
He turned his head slightly to rub a handful of her hair against his face and concentrated on the texture, the smell.
She pulled away and maneuvered herself so she supported her weight on her elbows and looked down at him. He shivered at the sensation of her finger tracing a line from his brow, around his cheek, to his lips. “You are the most beautiful man.”
“Blair, I wish—”
“No,” she said, stopping him by pressing two fingers against his mouth. “If you have to talk, tell me about yourself.” She paused and he knew she was going to ask something important. “Tell me what you didn’t tell me before.”
Michael kissed her fingers. Blair eased down beside him again. These words were his commitment to loving her, as much as the joining of their bodies had been. She had no way of knowing or understanding because he couldn’t tell her about Drew. She’d shown her faith in him by helping him. He couldn’t give her forever, but he could try to explain what happened before. He could give her that.
“I didn’t tell you because it was so new I couldn’t handle it. Part of it was—” he still couldn’t explain it. Maybe the telling would make it clear. “My brother David was a year younger than me.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Our parents used to say we were meant to be twins.”
“You were close.”
“Close and very competitive. Anything one of us did, the other had to do.” He stared up at the ceiling. “From things as simple as playing soccer to jumping off bridges on a dare.”
“So you both went into law enforcement.”
Michael hoped he would be able to explain. “David joined the Army.” He’d never spoken the words, but knew his parents had thought them. “Just as I did.” He felt Blair turn and tilt her head toward him. “Because I did.”
She tucked herself closer.
“I got hurt pretty badly during an operation, and decided to get out because I couldn’t do what I’d been doing. David finished his time and got out, too. I had already joined the Bureau, David applied and got in.
“I was always the one who got us into things. About the only thing David did without my having done it first was get married.” Michael struggled to keep his voice smooth. “That and getting himself killed.”
Beside him, Blair stiffened. “Oh, Michael—”
“His wife’s name is Stephanie. She remarried last year.” He took a breath. “I don’t blame her at all.” He’d surprised himself. “She and David wanted children. She’ll have them now. She waited too long as it is.”
“You blame yourself, don’t you?” Blair sat up, pulling the sheet around herself. “You blame yourself because he joined the FBI.”
“He wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for me.”
“That doesn’t say much about your brother.”
“He should have done something different.” Michael shut his eyes. “Something safe.”
“Like jumping off bridges and joining the Army?” She looked down at him. “I don’t know exactly what you did, but I know it wasn’t safe. Even before that, it sounds to me like you were a pair of daredevils. I’d say he had to have some sort of excitement. Something with an edge of danger. Like you do.”
“I could have picked something else.”
“Come on, Michael! How long would you have lasted in a nine to five job? How long would Da
vid have tolerated that?”
Logically, everything she said made sense. He’d tried the same arguments on himself. Millions of times. He always came back to one fact. “He’d be alive.” That seemed to silence her.
“How did it happen?”
“They needed someone whose Spanish was Argentinean. I wanted to do it, but the agency had me tied up with something else.” He’d seen it as simple competition. Not life or death. How stupid he’d been.
“That smuggling task force Drew had worked on.” She remembered.
“Yes.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard. “David was free so they sent him. It went pretty well for a while. Then they made him.”
“How?”
“The working theory is that he slipped up somehow, but we never really found out for sure.”
“Did the men who did it go to jail?”
“They paid for what they did.” But not enough. He couldn’t tell her why those men deserved more than what they’d gotten. David had been tortured. That was one thing he’d sworn never to tell anyone. It preyed on him in the dark of night.
“Then David was avenged.”
Michael laughed. He couldn’t help it. Her words had taken him from the ugliness of his memories to the realization that he’d misunderstood this woman whom he loved. Revenge wasn’t as uncivilized for her as he’d thought.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are so fierce, niña.” He leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “And so very, very beautiful.” He pulled her against him, thankful for the warmth of her body.
***
Blair stretched and listened to Michael, singing in the shower. This morning they’d woken in a tangled heap of bedclothes and warm limbs. She’d forgotten how hot he got at night, how he tossed the blanket off the bed. How he sang, scrambling the lyrics.
She smiled and rolled over, looking outside. Yesterday’s storm left behind cooler temperatures. They’d gone out by the pool at midnight, with all the lights off, and, crowded together on a lounger, stared up at the sky. Soft conversation, gentler touches, had led them into gentle passion.
“Do we have more bacon?” Michael, rubbing a towel through his dark hair, looked across the room toward her.
“Yes.” Her eyes feasted on him. He’d already changed his bandage.
“Don’t look at me like that, querida. You’ve built me up to destroy me with your demands?”
She laughed and couldn’t remember feeling freer in ages. “We still have steaks.”
He walked to the bed, nakedness of no concern, and bent to kiss her. “I’ll cook the bacon. You’ll need to make the steaks for lunch. I won’t have the energy.”
His promise made her smile. A hard kiss to her mouth and long, lingering caresses in all the right places, had her squirming. He wasn’t unaffected.
“How will you cook bacon like that?” She leaned back on her elbows.
“I’ll wear an apron.”
“Make it asbestos, I don’t want to risk anything to hot grease.”
He rolled onto the bed next to her, laughing, and she made her getaway.
***
“You cheated.” Blair’s voice came to Michael at the same time he felt a tug on the seat of his jeans.
He was taking bacon from a skillet, his back to her. “I didn’t think the apron would do much to protect me.”
“Good thinking.”
“Want some?” He turned and held a piece of bacon to her mouth.
She took a bite, crunching delicately, her eyes holding his. “Good,” she said after swallowing.
And he remembered another time, another place where they’d shared food and love. He bent and took her mouth, tasting the bacon, feeling where her wet hair had dampened the cotton shirt she wore. He fought the temptation to take her back into the bedroom.
Pulling away from the intoxication of her mouth, he turned back to the stove. “Eggs?”
“No, thanks.” He heard her move away. “I’ll make toast.”
Michael took cups from the cabinet and poured coffee for both of them. “Turn on the TV. Let’s see the local weather.”
Barefoot, she walked across the shiny kitchen and pushed a button on the small set. “It’s a little early, yet, I think.”
“Turn it down then. We’ll turn it up when the weather comes on.”
They ate in companionable silence, by moments exchanging simple conversation, by others watching the muted television. Blair took the plates to the sink then sat back down to enjoy one last cup of coffee.
“I’ll need to go buy a few more things at the grocery store.”
“Don’t buy much.” Michael hated seeing the cautious look take over her face. He tried not to think of what was to come. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Where will we go?”
“You’ll go home, Blair.”
“What about you?”
“I have to clear my name.”
“I can help.”
“It’s best that you don’t.” Because I love you. He wanted to tell her. Right then. He wanted to shout the words. To stop himself, he glanced at the television.
And saw Buddy Alcott, the FBI public relations liaison, speaking to a female reporter in front of the Miami office. Michael flicked the mute button on the remote, and Buddy’s words cut across the silence of the kitchen.
“Of course,” he nodded, “our investigation still entails locating Special Agent Alvarez.”
“Is he being sought on murder charges now?” the reporter asked.
Murder? Michael felt the accusation like a blow.
“We have no comment on that at this time.”
“But Special Agent Alvarez is being sought in connection with a case that involved the bank where Hector Ramos worked.”
“Our office will make any new development available to the press as the situation warrants. Thank you.” Buddy walked out of the picture, leaving the reporter to turn back toward the camera.
“To recap this breaking story, Special Agent Michael Alvarez is being sought in connection with embezzlement at a major local Miami bank. He has been missing since he disappeared from the hospital where he was recuperating from gunshot wounds. This station has been able to verify that Alvarez was working undercover at the bank and that Hector Ramos, the bank manager found murdered this morning, was a prime suspect in the case. At this time, the FBI refuses to comment on whether or not Alvarez is now being sought on suspicion of murder.”
Michael looked across the table at Blair.
She turned her attention to him. “How can they think these things about you?”
Before he could muster an answer, she continued. “Did you try to explain the situation to anybody?”
Michael couldn’t tell her who he’d tried to explain things to. “Yes, I did.”
“And?”
“Let’s say it didn’t work.”
Her eyes flashed understanding. “Drew. You tried to tell Drew.”
“I’ll have to arrange my transportation.” He stood.
“Don’t do this, Michael. At the very least, you owe me enough information so I can understand why Drew would think for a single minute that you had anything to do with this.” Anger colored her cheeks.
He said nothing. Couldn’t.
That took the anger out of her expression. In its place came disbelief. “You think I believe this garbage?” Her voice rose. “You think I’d help you, make love with you, if I believed you capable of such a thing?” Her words cut across the sounds of the television.
“You slept with me six years ago. Who I am, what I am, made no difference until the end.”
“What are you saying?”
Anger brought too-quick words to his mouth. “Six years ago you couldn’t wait to get rid of me after spending a week doing little else but—” Michael bit off the crudity. He wouldn’t let the years-old pain erase good sense.
In the stretching silence, Blair’s eyes darkened. She started to say something, but Mic
hael cut her off.
He couldn’t handle any more. “You should have left me at Alice’s.”
“I couldn’t do that again.”
“Didn’t you hear what Buddy said? Or rather, what he didn’t say? They think I’m a thief and a murderer. Your brother didn’t find it far-fetched that a man of my position in life would steal money. That I’d dishonor the oath I took when I joined the agency.”
“Then my brother is a fool.”
“Don’t you see, Blair? Nothing’s changed. I’m still the man your family would have been shocked to see you bring home. Someone who doesn’t fit in places like this.” He swept his arm around, indicating their rich surroundings. “In the Davenport life.”
Blair stared at him. “You think—”
“I stand accused not only of being a renegade agent and a murderer, but of stealing. Money, Blair.” He stood. “That commodity that a Davenport doesn’t even think of.”
“You’re right about one thing. You’re still the same man. Closed, secretive. In my case, too aware of things that don’t matter. You wouldn’t do this. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why Drew believes as he does, but it’s not true.”
Shaking his head, Michael crouched down before her. “Niña, why did you say no before?”
“Because I was afraid.”
He wanted to understand. “Explain that to me.”
“I was afraid of what you wouldn’t tell me,” she whispered. “I know it was about David now, but then—” Her eyes darkened to a deep, sea green. “I couldn’t give up the silly dream of a nice normal marriage. A couple in a house surrounded by a white picket fence.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Of a nine-to-five existence you couldn’t live with. Of how boring you’d find me.”
“Not because I’m an Alvarez and you’re a Davenport?”
She shook her head.
“I’m a poor man by comparison, Blair.”
“It was never about that.” Her quiet words were like a blow.
“Jesus, Blair!” He closed his eyes briefly. “I was even more of a son of a—”
“I’ve thought about what we said that day. How you reacted, how I reacted. I just wanted to let it go, get it over with before I fell apart.”
Against the Wind Page 12
