Wilde Nights in Paradise
Page 13
The quirk of Jude’s lips spread into a dazzling smile. He glanced down, caught her gaze with his sparkling baby blues, and motioned up ahead with his chin. “Look.”
Still half-afraid of seeing a croc, she slowly turned to face the front of the board and a gasp escaped her. Up ahead, the mangrove tunnel opened up into an expanse of blue-green ocean. Sunlight shimmered across the top of the calm water, and she shielded her eyes against the brightness.
Now this… This was beautiful. A tropical paradise.
Jude picked up the pace, propelling them away from the shore and the creepy mangroves, out into open water. His strokes sure and powerful, she was torn between watching the muscles in his arms and chest bunch and flex with each pull of the paddle and the colorful coral reef racing by under the board.
Eventually, they came to a gliding halt. This far out, the white sand beach around the island looked like a rim of salt around a margarita glass, but the water was still fairly shallow and so clear she saw every fish that swam by below them. Jude sat down and laid the paddle alongside his leg, then unzipped the pack that she’d forgotten he still wore. He pulled out two bottles of water, handed her one, and then twisted off the cap of his own. As carefully as she could, she spun around so that she was facing him and watched him drink down the water in three long pulls. Sweat slicked his hair away from his face and made his skin shine in the sunlight.
“This better?” he asked when he finished and reached over his shoulder to return the empty bottle to the bag.
“It’s lovely.” She finished her own water and handed him the bottle. “It’s like nobody’s ever been here before.”
“And no creepy mangroves.” He shifted until he straddled the board, dipping his legs in the water up to just past his knees. Libby bet that felt wonderful and mimicked him, submerging her legs and kicking gently, propelling the board in small circles.
Jude chuckled, took hold of her under her knees, and dragged her toward him. His hands slipped upward, and little thrills zinged from the heat of his palms on her thighs to the tips of her breasts.
“Wanna try something?”
She eyed him, wary of the mischievous sparkle lighting his eyes. “Like what?”
“How good is your balance?”
“Really, you haven’t figured that out by now? Not good.”
“That’s okay. I have enough for the both of us.” He pulled her up so that she was straddling him instead of the board and he nuzzled her cleavage, tugging down the front of her top with his teeth.
“Oh! Oh,” she gasped as his lips closed over a taut nipple. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” And yet she couldn’t bear to push him away.
His laughter brushed over her nipple and rumbled through her entire body. “Why not?”
“Because someone—” His thumb slipped under the edge of her swimsuit bottoms and found her clitoris. Pleasure warmed her limbs to pliant rubber. She tightened her legs around him to keep from falling off the board and bit her lip against the need to cry out. “Oh God. Someone could see us.”
“So we’ll show them how it’s done.”
“Jude!”
“Libby,” he said in the same exasperated tone. “You’ve stood up in a moving car, gone paddle boarding through the mangroves. You’re a regular wild woman. What’s another risk? And a little one at that? There’s nobody around for miles.” His fingers joined his thumb, teasing her entrance but denying her full penetration until her hips bucked, insisting on more.
Male satisfaction tinged his smile. “What do you want?”
“More. Oh God, I want more. What do you do to me?”
“Make you come.” His voice was little more than a growl and he delved his fingers deep into her sex. “Over and over again, I’ll make you come.”
Her entire being shuddered at his words and the intrusion of his fingers, but it wasn’t enough. She needed his body inside hers as she spasmed around him in climax. She reached between them and found his shaft hard, hot, and so ready for her. Wrapping her fingers around him, she squeezed and gave his length a slow, languorous stroke that left him groaning, his hands clenching in her hair.
“Christ, Libby. Yeah, just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” He clasped her head in his free hand, guided her mouth to his for a branding kiss, and she felt powerful in the most deliciously feminine way, capable of making a strong man like him beg.
“Come here,” he whispered against her mouth and his hands delved under her rear, lifting her up. Balancing her weight with one arm, he shoved down the front of his board shorts, freeing himself. Moisture beaded on the tip of his penis as he took himself in hand. “Ride me.”
Yes. God, yes. In that second, she wanted nothing else.
She dug her nails into his hard shoulders for balance and lowered herself onto him, welcomed him inside her body, rocking until he was as deep as he could go. Then she stilled, enjoying the pulsing, impatient length of him stretching her to the delicious edge between pain and pleasure.
“Babe,” he groaned, “you gotta move.”
Sweat beaded on his upper lip, the cords in his neck strained at the effort of holding still, and his erection bucked in demand inside her—but she had him trapped and they both knew it. He had to balance the board so this was one-hundred percent her show and, call her evil, but she wanted to torture him a bit first.
“I don’t gotta do anything for you.” She wound her fingers in his hair and tugged his lips toward hers, grinding against him in slow circles, letting the sparks of pleasure tingling along her nerve endings guide her movements.
He growled and reached for her waist, but the board started to list to one side. With a curse against her lips, he dropped his hands and readjusted his balance, then scowled at her. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.” She lifted her hips until nothing but his tip penetrated her, then sank back onto him with deliberate, agonizing slowness and watched his eyes glaze over with pleasure. “And so are you.”
He made a sound close to a whimper as she lifted herself off him again. “You’re killing me.”
“Then you’ll die a happy man.”
This time, his laughter came out somewhere between a gasp and a grumble. “You make me insane, you know that?”
“Ditto.”
She rode him until the tips of her fingers numbed and their breaths mingled in heavy pants. His mouth found her breast again and the tug of his teeth on her nipple surged all the way to her womb. That was it, all she needed, and her climax shuddered through her in wild bursts of color and sensation that left her in a state of dizzy bliss.
When she opened her eyes again, she realized Jude had taken control, somehow holding the board steady as he grasped her hips and pumped in short, hard strokes. She watched the erotic slide of his body disappearing into hers, saw his sexy stomach muscles convulse just before his head dropped back and he groaned in climax.
Beautiful. Wild, complicated, and dangerous. So very dangerous but now, with her second orgasm building to a shattering peak, she didn’t care.
As the electric tingles subsided, she collapsed against him in a clumsy, gasping heap that made the board rock.
“Careful.” Jude lifted her and tucked himself back into his shorts before adjusting her bikini bottom, covering her again. She couldn’t decide if he was a jerk for worrying about her modesty now or if the action was incredibly sweet. Either way, her heart gave a giddy ba-bump in response.
With the sigh of well-sated man, Jude settled back on the board, using his pack for a pillow. He pulled her on top of him and draped one arm over his eyes. They lay together like that for a long time, soaking in the warm sun, listening to the soft lap of the water against their board and the guttural gaw gaw gaw of birds calling out, almost as if scolding them for their promiscuity. Libby smiled at the thought and lifted her head. They were closer to shore now, had drifted away from the beach and back toward the mangroves, and she could see a handful of blac
k, brown, and yellow birds flitting through the branches. The sun sat lower in the sky, casting deep shadows around the mangrove roots, and worry started to edge out her good mood. She bit her lip. Part of her—the lazy, sun-warmed, sex-sedated part—didn’t want today to end, but the rest of her definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near those trees after dark.
“We should get back before the sun sets.”
Jude gave no reply. She looked down at him.
Sleeping.
Typical man, she thought with amusement. Give ‘em an orgasm and it’s lights out. She took a moment to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, to admire the way the bright red-gold evening sunlight made the ink in his tattoos pop to brilliant life.
Maybe she could get a tattoo. She’d always secretly wanted one and what better time and place to get one than here in this paradise, when her real life felt so far away as to be nonexistent.
But, no, that was ridiculous. Foolish, even. Jude’s insanity must be contagious.
She poked him in the ribs and smiled when he grumbled.
“Jude, we need to get moving. I don’t want to be out here after dark.”
Cracking open one eyelid, he glanced around. “Aw, fuck. You’re right.” He stretched, yawned. “Hot, mind-blowing sex makes me sleepy.”
Libby ignored the flush warming her neck and cheeks. “Will they send someone looking for us if we don’t get back to the rental place soon?”
“Probably. But how about we meet them half way?” After another contented stretch, he instructed, “Sit up and turn around. Slowly. I’d rather you didn’t dump us with that shark swimming over there.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. “What shark?”
“Ha. Gotcha.”
She slapped his chest. “You’re an idiot and you’ll pay for that. Now I hear the Jaws theme playing in my head.”
Standing up on the board with an easy grace she envied, he scooped up paddle. “So. You want to give it a try this time?”
“Yes,” she said on impulse. “I’d like that.”
He flashed one of his brilliant grins and held out a hand to help her up. The board wobbled under her feet, but it was quite a bit easier to stand on it than she would have expected. Jude gave her the paddle and, with his hands on her waist, turned her around to face forward. His breath whispered over her ear as he explained the basics of how to move the board, sending shivers down her spine. It took a couple tries to get the hang of it, but then they were sailing smoothly forward. The underused muscles in her arms and torso ached with each pull of the paddle, but it was the delicious kind of ache, warm and heady, much like sex with Jude.
“You got it,” he said and nuzzled her earlobe. He still hadn’t removed his hands from her waist and in that moment, with the sun turning to rust and sinking toward the horizon, the wind tangling her hair and his warm solid weight pressed to her back…in that moment, she hoped he never let go of her.
More foolishness, she told herself and concentrated on making the board go straight.
Jude Wilde didn’t hang on to anything for long.
Chapter Nineteen
Jude was in an excellent mood. A day of playing tourist, soaking in the sun and natural beauty of the Keys, followed by sex…
Oh, man, the sex. The off the charts hot sex.
It was all exactly what he’d needed and, he suspected, what Libby had needed, too— although he bet she’d never admit it.
He smiled to himself and spared a glance for her, sound asleep in the passenger seat, her cheek pillowed in her hand against the window. Her hair had frizzed from their swim and the soaking they got from an evening storm as they raced across the marina parking lot for their car. He resisted the urge to reach over and soothe down the sun-kissed locks. Made himself focus on the road, but found his hand wandering from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh. She stirred but didn’t wake and he smiled again.
Now the rain tap-danced on the roof of the convertible and lightening zigzagged in the distance over the ocean as the car sailed the Overseas Highway toward home.
Jude felt better than he had in days. Sure, his back was sunburned all to hell—damn Libby for being right about the sunscreen—but even that discomfort couldn’t put a damper on his mood.
Damn near perfect day.
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light, this free. He could become addicted to this. To her. Maybe he already was.
Unable to resist, he sneaked another peek her way. Deep in sleep, she looked completely at peace—no worry lines etched into her forehead, no trace of the sour grapes pinched expression around her mouth. She needed to sleep more, work less, and play more, he decided and then snorted as he imagined her response to that suggestion. But someone had to apply the brakes on the race car that was Elizabeth Pruitt or she was going to burn out her engine. After this was all over, he’d talk her into a worry-free day like today at least once a week. She carried way too much stress and—
Whoa. What? After this was over? Goddammit, he was an idiot for even considering an “after” with her. No chance. Hadn’t she told him as much the night she started their affair?
It was sex. No emotions. No strings attached. No after. And he’d gone along with it because he was just desperate enough to be with her that he’d take her any way he could. Except an affair had never been what he wanted when it came to Libby. He’d loved her, and had wanted the whole package the night he proposed eight years ago. Libby in a white dress, vowing to stay with him forever. Her pregnant with his two-point-five children. The quaint house with the white picket fence, dog, and minivan.
Loved? No, he was lying to himself. Love, present tense. It was still there, strong as ever, just like their ring in his pocket. But he’d be damned before he told her. She wouldn’t accept those words from him anyway. He’d hurt her too badly, which had been his goal and he’d done a bang up job of it. Hurt her to protect her. Wasn’t he just noble as fuck?
Uh-uh. And after this was over, she would go back to her life and he to his. That would be the end of it. He just wasn’t sure if he’d be able to glue the pieces of his life back together again once she was gone.
Far less cheerful than he had been moments before, he lifted his hand off her thigh and focused all of his concentration on the road. Headlights hit his rearview mirror with the blinding force of laser beams. Where the fuck had this car come from? They were on a two-lane road out in the middle of the ocean with no on or off ramps. Unless the driver had been going at least twenty above the speed limit—and who would risk that in this rain?—then that car had been following them from the get go. A chill of awareness shot through Jude’s blood and he fumbled in the center console for his phone.
Libby lifted her head, rubbed at the back of her neck and squinted out the windshield. “Wow, it’s really raining now.” Yawning, she looked over at him. “What are you doing?”
“Find my phone. It’s in there somewhere.”
She twisted in her seat and dug through the compartment with maddening care.
“Faster.”
“What’s your hurry?”
He forced himself to keep his gaze on the road ahead of him. “I need to check my messages.”
“Ugh. Impatient, much? Hang on.” More digging around. “Here. Found it.” She swiped at the screen with her thumb. “You have a missed call from someone with the initials W.S.”
“Wilde Security. My brothers.” Another glance in the rearview showed the car had backed off a bit, but was still riding too damn close. “Get into the voicemail.” He told her his access code and waited, palm held out for the phone. She never handed it over.
“Oh my God. Jude, listen.” Her hand shook as she lowered the phone from her ear and pressed the speaker button. Greer’s voice came on the line, booming in the small car.
“…and Cam’s source claims K-Bar hasn’t been seen in a couple days. We have to assume he’s found you and he’s headed your way. Call me as soon as you get this and we’l
l come up with an exfil plan to get you two the hell out of there. Take every precaution and don’t let Libby out of your sight.”
“Oh my God,” Libby said again. “Are you going to call him?”
Jude lifted his eyes to the rearview. Car was still on their ass, too close for comfort on a nearly empty road in a torrential downpour. He shook his head. “No. If we move you, he’ll just find you again. The safest place for you is Seth’s house. We just have to lose him before we get there.”
“What?”
He tilted his head toward the car. “Behind us. Pretty sure he was tailing us with his headlights off until the rain got too heavy to see the road without them. Hang on. We gotta get to civilization before him. It’s our only shot.”
As he floored the gas, Libby folded her arms around herself. “This can’t be happening.”
“It may be nothing,” he reminded her. “I may just be a paranoid bastard and if that’s the case, we can laugh about it later. I have trouble believing K-Bar got around all of my brothers’ security measures and found you, but I’m not taking any more chances.”
…
After abandoning the car with a valet at a busy hotel, she and Jude nipped through the lobby, took a side exit, and made a mad dash through parking lots and private yards until they reached a street teeming with tourists who weren’t the least bit daunted by the now light drizzle of rain. Music floated from the bars lining the street—everything from the mellow tones of an acoustic solo artist to bands blasting covers of popular songs. Chickens pecked along the sidewalk, as undaunted by the crowd as the crowd was by the rain. Jude pulled her past a colorfully dressed busker sitting on the street corner strumming a guitar and playing a tambourine with his foot. Both the man and the old hound sitting patiently at his side wore sunglasses and pirate hats.