Wild Nights

by Tina Wainscott

  The last of the sun’s rays lit her eyes to a golden hue and washed over her cheeks. The sight of her tightened his gut, and he wasn’t even looking at her sexual anatomy. Dayum. Then their hungry gazes locked to each other’s, and heat roared through him as their bodies slammed together, hands grasping, mouths seeking each other. Need. He needed to be inside her, the ache as hot as fire. It felt as though he hadn’t had sex in months, years, couldn’t even recall when, who, where.

  As soon as his hands skimmed down her hips, she instinctively knew what he was going to do. She helped by hooking her arms over his shoulders and hoisting her legs around his waist. While he held her, she reached between them and grasped the base of his cock. She angled his tip to her wet, slick opening and guided him inside. Using his hands on her ass, he pulled her closer, driving him in.

  She caught her breath as her body arched, letting out a sweet, garbled sound of pleasure. “Ohmigod, you feel so…good,” she whispered.

  “Back at ya,” he said in a tight voice, because he didn’t dare say that she was home, heaven—everything and nothing he’d ever felt before. Just as he’d dreamed. As he’d feared. “You get to drive, darlin’. It’s one of the reasons I chose this way.” Along with the fact that there was only the wet sand and a lot of uncomfortable rocks.

  She started moving, taking him right along with her. He gripped her ass, guiding her into a delicious rhythm. Leaning forward, he kissed her neck, moving down to her collarbone. Her nails dug into his upper back as she thrust her hips. Her need and hunger reverberated through him, heightening every nerve ending.

  She straightened, her eyes glassy as they met his. Drugged, but in an entirely different way. And didn’t he feel the same, out of his ever-loving mind? He had enough sense to tune into their surroundings, alert for any sound that was out of the ordinary. Not that he could hear much over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  He crouched to give his thigh muscles a break, giving her a shelf on which to sit. It was a perfect position to lean forward and run his mouth over the inner curve of her breast, to suck one of her nipples until she cried out in pleasure.

  He wanted not-quick-at-all, to hold back the wave of sensation threatening to spill over him. But the way she was thrusting, faster and faster, and the way her breath was sawing in and out, and the way she was invoking his name…hell, he was barely holding on to his control.

  Her body shuddered, and she gripped him so hard that her nails speared his back. And it shoved him face-first into the most powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced.

  It’s the fresh air.

  It’s having sex out in the open, with a drug dealer’s boat due after dark.

  It’s her.

  His legs nearly gave out on him, and it wasn’t the strain. He walked backward into the ocean and fell in, taking her with him. She let out a squeal as the water rushed up to their waists. Their bodies came apart, but they were still holding on even tighter to each other.

  Her face was flushed, looking sun-washed even though the light had nearly died out. “That was…”

  Fan-fucking-tastic, amazing, mind-blowing. No, he had to keep this casual, as though sex was always like this.

  “Nice,” he finished when she was obviously at a loss for words. Man, it killed him to downplay it, especially when the light on her face dimmed.

  “Yes, nice.” She pushed her hair from her face. “Maybe I am the type of girl who has one-night stands.”

  He tucked the curly strand behind her ear, detesting the idea of her becoming a wild woman. “No, you’re not.” Had a thread of possessiveness underlined those words? He couldn’t resist touching her face, tracking his finger across her cheek. “Trust me. One-night stands feel good in the moment, but they leave you emptier than when you started. Lonelier, even if the person is still sleeping next to you. Less satisfied, even though you’ve come. And you hate yourself just a little bit, not because you had sex with a stranger, but for the lie you tell yourself that it’s enough.” Where had those words even come from? They’d bubbled up out of him like a volcano.

  She touched his cheek the same way, her hand warm against his skin. “Is that what you feel, Sax?”

  “No.” He put as much force into that word as he could. “I’m talking about you. Because I know you well enough to say that.”

  That was the hell of it. He did feel he knew her well enough to imagine the emptiness and regret she’d experience. Yes, he could feel it so clearly.

  She bracketed his face now, leaning close so that he felt the puff of her breath on his lips when she said, “You are so the king of denial. And I’m not talking about the river.”

  He had to force himself back to business. “We’d better get dressed and into position. It’s almost dark.”

  She was going to be a helluva hard habit to break. Even if it was for her own good, parting ways would wring out his guts.

  Wait a minute. He was Saxy, who never looked back once he’d moved on. Who had never become attached to any woman. He almost felt relieved. There would be no gut-wringing sensation once he’d returned to his life in Miami. They were just feeling attached because they were working this case that had become very personal. Yeah, that was it.

  So why was her voice echoing in his mind? King of denial.

  Chapter 14

  Sax was still not thinking about her accusation of denial as he focused his binoculars across the now ink-dark ocean. Bah. He had his life perfectly in control. Hell, he was trying to be a good guy by staying away from commitments.

  You trying to show me up, boy? His father’s sort-of-but-not-really-joking challenge.

  No, Dad, just trying to not be an asshole like you.

  So he didn’t hurt women like the one sitting next to him on the rock, her leg brushing his because the smooth section was barely large enough for both of them. They had agreed not to talk, on the off chance Willie came by land.

  When he heard a distant engine, Sax searched for the boat and spotted the faintest outline of it in the dark. Idiots were out there without any running lights. Guess they figured no one else would be around, since the marina was on the opposite side of the island. No one but their customer.

  Jennessy felt her way around the rock to where she was to tuck herself in. If the boat was here, Willie was probably in the vicinity. Sax shucked his trunks and set them and the binoculars down. She reached out and gripped his arm, squeezing it in a be careful way.

  He returned the squeeze, walked to the spit of beach, and remembered the layout of the rocks from their earlier visit. Then he did a shallow dive into the water, sure that he didn’t make any more sound than the waves already did. Staying close to the rocks around the edge of the cove, he kept an eye on the boat as it neared.

  He also watched land, just in case. A silhouette appeared on the high shoreline, highlighted against the open sky and the bright moon beyond. Sax was pretty sure the man held binoculars to his eyes by the way his elbows stuck out. A cell phone glowed in the dark, then winked out. The man walked to the edge and tossed something to the beach.

  Rope. Hell, he was going to climb down and, judging by the black line, he’d land on the ground next to Jennessy. Sax knew she was calm and smart, but it still scared him to have Willie or his accomplice that close to her.

  The boat slowed in the distance, then the motor kicked off. Sax remembered a reef that ran along the edge there. He kept swiveling around as he treaded water, watching the shore, then the boat. His body strained to churn toward shore, but she was safe as long as she didn’t give away her presence. He needed to move toward the boat.

  Two men on the boat heaved an inflatable over the side, then one climbed into it. This was no doubt a regular occurrence, bringing drugs to a man who would use them to facilitate the rape of women. Women like Jennessy, like the other woman at the Hangover Hut. Rage burned through him.

  Stay detached, Cole. That shit’ll get you killed.


  As the inflatable, smaller than any he’d used on SEAL missions, motored toward shore, Sax used the noise as cover to swim toward the boat.

  The beat-up boat wouldn’t attract a lot of attention if it weren’t for the four two-hundred-fifty-horsepower engines that were designed to haul ass, if necessary. Two men on the boat were talking with thick Bahamian accents.

  “Willie trying to chuck us, he is,” one said. “He start t’rowing ’round accusations to Bernard about us cutting the K, he gonna have trouble.”

  Sax didn’t like the sound of that. He eased up beside the engine, assessing the best place to stick the G-patch. Pulling himself up by the side of one of the motors, Sax peeled off the backing and reached out to place it on the engine.

  “You’re gettin’ too close to the reef, mon!” one of the men hissed, leaning over the side of the boat that Sax was holding on to.

  Sax had to dive, then dart away from the propellers. Dayum. The adhesive on the patch he still gripped was wet. He followed the boat as it moved toward the center of the pass and went silent.

  Two men’s voices were raised in argument from the direction of shore. Sound traveled amazingly well over water, though the waves lapping against the hull and the breeze interfered.

  “He’s accusin’,” the other man on the boat said.

  “No money, no K,” a voice said in the distance.

  “…cut it!” Willie’s voice shouted….no good…”

  As Sax started to move toward shore, he glanced back to the guys on the boat to assess where their attention was focused. Shit. They had a pair of NVGs. All the better to spot their customer, no doubt. As well as the guy in the water.

  “Uh-oh,” the man with the NVGs said, coming to his feet. “Somebody’s hiding near da boss, crouched low. Dis might be a setup. Gimme the phone, Bill. And get the rifle ready.” He reached for it, still focused on shore.

  Sax’s heart jumped up into his throat. Jennessy. They’d spotted her, and they were going to tell Bernard. Sax couldn’t let that happen. He launched onto the back of the boat and leapt over the transom just as the guy grabbed the phone. Which, of course, blew his cover completely.

  Both men turned toward him, but he had the element of surprise. He barreled into them, knocking the rifle to the deck. Hit fast and hard, a rule of CQC—close quarters combat. He knocked both of them down, then planted his hand over one’s face and shoved it toward the helm. His head smashed into the fiberglass, splintering it. He fell to the floor, groaning and inert.

  Bill was now grabbing for the rifle on the deck. Sax grasped it at the same time, but Bill managed to pull the trigger. The discharge nearly deafened him. Where’d the bullet hit? As he struggled to wrest the rifle away, he took mental inventory. No pain. No blood. Now, if he could only freakin’ hear anything.

  The second guy jumped on his back, trying to wrap his hands around Sax’s throat. The cell phone lit up from where it had landed on the floor. Sax was still fighting Bill for the gun, and the idiot had his finger on the trigger. He fired two more shots into the air. Great. It was some kind of semiautomatic tactical rifle. He had to shut this guy down. Sax used his elbow to knock Bill on his ass. A stream of blood sprayed from his nose and left a pattern all over the cushions. Then Sax spun and dropped, smashing the guy on his back down on his friend. He jumped to his feet and grabbed the NVGs lying on the seat to see what was going on at the shore. Two men stood there, one holding a pair of NVGs looking back toward the boat. The phone rang again.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw one of the men on the boat coming at him with a knife. Sax rammed him in the face with the butt of the rifle. He dropped, and Sax gave him one more smash to make sure the slimy son of a bitch was out. He dumped the rifle overboard, found the knife on the deck, and dove into the water.

  —

  Willie and the guy named Bernard had been arguing over the quality of the K when the sound of a gun firing echoed against the cliff wall. Jennessy barely held in her frightened scream. She was pretty sure the shots had come from the boat. The boat where Sax was. And since he didn’t have a gun, that meant the other guys were shooting.

  He’s been in situations far worse than this. He can handle it.

  She took several deep breaths to calm down. Focusing not on the rock jabbing her back but the two men on the beach who were scrambling for cover. One rolled to a stop only feet from her, the glint of a gun in his hand as he surveyed the ocean.

  “What the hell is going on?” Bernard hissed from a short distance. “The shots came from the boat. And my men aren’t answering. This better not be a setup, Willie, or you’re a dead man.”

  “No!” Willie whispered, identifying himself as the man near her. “I need you. Why would I set you up?”

  She heard a voice on the other end of the phone. “Boss! A white man just attacked us! I was gonna tell you that there’s someone hiding behind the rocks, right near you.”

  A light flashed all around her and finally pinned her. Willie’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he lunged for her. She had nowhere to go, and he grabbed her arm and slapped his hand over her mouth before she could scream. “This is making sense now. I gave this woman the K, sold her to one of the guests. They’ve been following me, making trouble.” He squeezed her neck as he dragged her even closer and growled, “Did you fuck with my K?” She kicked him, and he swept his leg beneath hers and dropped her to the sand. When she started to roll away, he jammed the barrel of his gun into her side. “You did, didn’t you, bitch? You and your boyfriend. He knocked the shots all over the beach. You dumped my tricked-out water.”

  “Where’s the guy?” Bernard asked, moving toward the shore, rapidly looking from the ocean to Willie. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “You still trade in women? Here, you can have her. She’s worth more than what I owe you for the K.”

  All she could see of the man was the glitter in his eyes as he assessed her. “Is she American? Blond?”

  “Yes, very blond.”

  “Okay. Get her in the boat.” Willie pushed her forward, the gun jamming painfully against her back. Bernard shoved her into the inflatable, and she managed a scream as she fell into it and then tried to climb out. He shoved his gun at her, which made her fall to the floor of the boat. “Shut up or I shoot you in the leg. You can still be fucked with a bum leg. Might make you even more valuable. No run away.”

  The guy was smiling. She believed he’d put a bullet in her leg to keep her from escaping. But no way in hell was she going to let this guy take her away and…what, sell her? Is that what they were talking about, trading in women? Oh, God.

  The small engine roared to life. He tossed a small baggie to Willie, who caught it midair, then headed into the inky darkness. Water splashed over the side of the raft as Bernard raced toward his boat. And Sax, where was he? Hurt? Two men were waving frantically from the boat they were closing in on. If they shot her as she tried to escape, she might drown. Still better than being a sex slave.

  Something pulled at the side of the boat. A hand thrust out of the water, slashing at the edge of the inflatable with a knife blade. Then it tipped over, spilling her and Bernard out. Sax surged out of the water, lunging for the man who appeared to be looking for something.

  His gun. He’d lost his gun! And Sax was all right!

  She swam out of the fray as Sax launched himself at Bernard. Shots peppered the water. The man on the boat was shooting now. She heard an oof as a bullet struck one of them. Not her. “Sax!”

  Beams of light slashed across the water, and shouts came from the shore. She saw several figures running along the cliffs before she turned back to the chaos around her. A man struggled in the water, gasping in pain. Dark skin. Not Sax.

  An arm came from behind and pulled her back. She jerked around to see a familiar face—Sax. Meanwhile the men on the boat used a pole to pull Bernard toward them. “I didn’t mean to shoot you!” he was saying, disbelief and horror in his voice. “I was trying to shoot aro
und you!”

  He’d shot his partner. She hardly had time to process that as Sax swam hard away from them, towing her with him. The two men pulled Bernard into the boat, started the engine, and took off into the night.

  She snapped out of it and turned to swim so that Sax wasn’t doing all the work. “Are you all right?” she managed to ask.

  “I’m fine. You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  A high beam illuminated a rope that hung down the side of the cliff, along with two uniformed security officers who were climbing down.

  “The cavalry,” she said. “Thank God.”

  They reached the shallow area, and she saw an empty plastic baggie floating in the water. Willie had tossed the K, probably when he saw the security guys. When they could touch the sand, she and Sax sloshed out of the water to the beach—and stopped at the scene in front of them: flashlights blinding them, the two officers holding out guns, and Willie, jabbing his finger in their direction. “They were meeting drug dealers out here! I followed them, and they almost shot me!”

  —

  Jennessy and Sax sat in Darius Mitchell’s office at his plush estate on the other side of the island. She wanted to crawl into Sax’s lap, bury her face against his shoulder, and forget the harrowing events of the last hour. There hadn’t been the chance to digest it all, and there wouldn’t be until they were released.

  Sax had been allowed to change into his dry swim trunks and shirt, but they were otherwise escorted directly from the Point to Darius’s house by the security guards. They were alone but knew a guard was posted outside the closed door. Sax’s damp hair was disheveled, but he was the picture of calm.

  “Your eyes are green,” she whispered.

  “I must have lost the contacts when I was underwater.”