Beachcomber Investigations

by Stephanie Queen

  “Yes, you know—”

  He cut her off with his mouth. He covered hers, biting her lips, caressing them with his tongue and possessing every part of her lips and tongue and mouth with his. The world at large disappeared. The bedroom, the bed, the beach shack, all disappeared into the black void until her entire physical world consisted of only him and their two bodies touching. She sensed only his mouth on hers, his moist lips and the mingled taste of everything he’d consumed, the faint tinge of tequila.

  When she pressed her hips against his he groaned, then wrapped an arm around her and half lifted her, half pushed her onto the bed under him. She moved her arms to hold his face in her hands as he allowed his weight to press on her. She opened her legs and pushed her hips again, watching his eyes and the tension in his jaw and the bead of sweat on his temple. And the smile of sweet torture as he bent his head and closed his eyes, holding himself still for a moment to regain control.

  “You in a hurry, girlie?”

  She gave a soft chuckle and said, “It has been a while.”

  He grunted in return. Then he lifted himself and slid his entire body, so that his mouth hovered over her breasts. Ecstasy held his face when he looked up at her, and wonder and giving and strong melting emotions, so strong. She pushed her hips at him and pulled on his shoulders to touch her, to take her. She wanted nothing more in this life.

  He lowered his mouth to take her right nipple in his teeth and laved it with his tongue. A shot of stinging pleasure zinged straight from her nipple to her center and she called out and squirmed without thought, her hands in his hair, caressing this beautiful, wonderful man.

  When she thought she would have an orgasm with one more flick of his tongue he lifted his head and, tracing his hands down her body, he slid further toward her center. She protested the separation of their bodies with a desperate whimper until he lowered his hands to her thighs and pressed them apart further. And then he lowered his head.

  The first touch of the tip of his tongue on her clit caused her to clench into a spiral of ecstasy. She called out his name in a stifled moan and gripping his hair in her fingers, letting the heat and spasms of pleasure roll through her like the pearly gates of heaven had parted and let loose a thunderstorm of euphoria.

  Dane clenched down on the spasm of need running through him and gripped her hot round ass in his hands, pulling her to him and drinking her in, every last drop of her essence making him drunker than any alcohol and bringing him to ecstasy more effectively than any drug ever dreamed of by a pharmaceutical company. He sucked and licked and listened to her moans and felt himself on edge, pumping until he ripped his face from between her legs, rose up and immersed himself inside her with a loud groan of satisfaction and triumph. He plunged, and watched her glowing face as drips of sweat fell from his temple. He lowered his mouth and captured her full lips in his teeth, and felt her shuddering as his own final surge took him over the edge in gush after gush of release and drove him to nowhere he’d ever been before.

  Dane lay awake. Strangely alert, not out of professional necessity, but out of raw fear. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally spent. The elation of possessing her, feeling her in his arms even now, spread an indescribable warmth through him. But in its wake came the dreaded realization that it was all temporary. It would all disappear—sooner than later. She wasn’t his. She didn’t belong to him even as he pretended otherwise. He hadn’t fooled her anymore than he’d fooled himself.

  He didn’t own her.

  And the sin of it was that he wanted to, and badly. God help him. Or maybe He ought to help Shana.

  Chapter 6

  It was still dark when the alarm sounded. It wasn’t a typical house alarm or fire alarm, but an urgent beeping, louder than a cell phone. Shana had never heard it before, but a tremor of terror made her sit up in bed. Dane was not lying next to her.

  “Damn.” The tremor rose in her and she jumped from bed and searched the room frantically with her eyes for something quick to throw on.

  The beeping sound was the alarm for the electrified perimeter—which was set off when someone breached it.

  She eyed Dane’s shirt on the floor and didn’t hesitate to grab it up and throw it over her head. It covered everything that needed covering. All too aware that she didn’t have time to rummage in her bag for her gun, she opened the door carefully and stepped out into the hall, then moved quickly toward a commotion at the back door.

  “Goddamn it.” Dane’s voice came from outside, so she ran through the kitchen, picking up a Glock from the kitchen drawer along the way to the door. Once there, she proceeded with caution and slowed. Until she saw the kid from the restaurant in the dim light of the early morning moon—the one who had delivered their food—Ronnie Ryan, lying on the ground.

  “Shit.” She pushed through the door, went to stick the gun in her pants and realized she wasn’t wearing any, so she tossed it into the dirt and ran to the boy, kneeling in the driveway next to him. Dane stood, bent over and ready to lift him. Acer was at the door with some kind of tool. He said, “It’s safe—electric charge is off. Let’s get the kid inside.”

  “Maybe we should take him to the hospital,” Shana said as Dane lifted him to sitting.

  “I’m … ah—”

  “It’s okay, kid. We’re taking you inside. Give you something to drink and check you out. If you need a doctor, we’ll call one in.”

  “Don’t…” the kid said and his head lolled. Shana checked his hands. One of them had a nasty red scorch mark on it.

  Acer came over, and he and Dane lifted the kid to his feet between them, then walked him to the back door. Dane looked over his shoulder at her and said, “He’ll be all right. It’s similar to being tasered, but without the prongs. His muscles are in acute charley-horse-type contractions and then as they relax, he’ll be exhausted for a while. We have a first aid kit for the burn and some NSAIDS for the muscle aches. We wouldn’t have a system if we didn’t have a cure for it.”

  “A system? Is that a euphemism for a form of torture? Is this electrocution thing even legal? Never mind—I don’t want to know.”

  “Nice shirt.”

  She held the door open for Dane and stared him down as he walked through with the kid and Acer squeezing past the doorframe. She felt the pink flush begin, wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or embarrassment and decided it was both. Hell, she wore bikinis that were more revealing. But none of them belonged to her lover. None of them held his scent.

  “Where do we put him?” Acer asked. “You have no couch in this love shack of yours.” They all stood in the kitchen which seemed impossibly small as they maneuvered the kid past the peninsula and into the hall.

  “We’ll put him on the easy chair in the office.”

  The office was supposed to be the living room.

  “Easy chair? Okay, Pops. What century are you from anyway?” Shana said. This was her favorite thing to tease him about. Every time he went old-school. Which was more often than his age would account for. Shana theorized that he must have watched a lot of old fifties and sixties reruns somewhere along the line to pick up the vernacular.

  Dane lifted the kid onto the chair and pushed it into lounge position. The chair looked brand new, probably because no one used it. Shana didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone sit there. No one came into this room except to work at the desk and check the security controls or use the second computer.

  “You okay?” Dane asked the kid. She would swear he sounded concerned.

  “I’ll get a cold cloth and some ice for his hands,” she said and did.

  After a few minutes, where they all made him comfortable and watched him, he seemed less disoriented.

  “What’s your name?” Dane asked.

  “You know—I told you before, Ronnie Ryan.”

  “That was a test. You passed. Now what the hell were you doing here in the middle of the night?”

  She couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this. She pul
led around the desk chair and sat, but realized this was very revealing as she was dressed only in the shirt, so she stood again and put her hands on her hips.

  “I’m doing what you said. You said to let you know what the feds were up to.”

  Dane shoved his hand through his hair and wished he couldn’t see Shana in his periphery. Hell, it wouldn’t matter. He would still know that she stood there within grasp, dressed in his shirt and mussed from sleep and a night of lovemaking. Their lovemaking. That thought sparked some heat and he quickly clamped down. He couldn’t help the scowl on his face when he continued questioning the kid.

  “I told you to call me if they came to question you. That’s it. What were you doing here in the middle of the night?”

  “You said—”

  “Damn it. I told you you are not equipped to work with us.”

  The kid looked chagrinned. Dane knew this was all about the kid wanting to play spy. He said, “Tell me everything that happened since you left here.”

  Ronnie grinned and launched into his story.

  “I went back to the restaurant and cleared things with my boss and he was cool—because of the money. Impressed that I handled the situation so well.” Ronnie paused for a moment of pride.

  “Then I figured I owed you and why wait for the feds to come to me? I knew they were still on the island—probably—so I went looking for them. I figured they were in Vineyard Haven to keep an eye on you and I found them.”

  “They’re staying at The Skyline Motel,” Dane said.

  “Yeah—How’d you know?” The kid was impressed and disappointed.

  “That’s where they always stay.” Not really, but Dane didn’t feel like explaining to the kid that he knew because that’s where he would stay if he were an FBI agent looking to keep an eye on him.

  “The FBI guy knocked on my door later in the evening and asked a lot of questions, just like you said he would. I said I was delivering food—because I was—but that’s it. That’s all I told him—nothing else. I told him I was fine, that you didn’t hurt me and that I didn’t want to press charges.”

  “That it?”

  The kid nodded.

  “Feel better?” Shana asked.

  “I’m kinda thirsty.”

  Shana gave him a glass of water. Then Dane motioned her and Acer into the next room.

  “What about me?” the kid said.

  “Sit tight,” Dane said.

  In the kitchen, Dane spoke quietly.

  “Peck is seriously out to cause trouble. We need to find out why and who’s calling the shots.” He thought a minute and added, “Or if he’s on his own and maybe has something to hide.”

  Acer nodded and said, “Any idea how we go about doing that?”

  Dane looked at Shana and smiled. “We unleash our secret weapon.”

  Shana smiled back at him, but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know if it was the normal genial smile of a woman who just got laid, or whether it was because she understood what he had in mind. In the end he figured if she knew what he had in mind, she might not be so smiley after all. Especially in light of their recent lovemaking.

  “We’ll need you to seduce him, girlie. You up to it?”

  Acer scoffed. “Last time I noticed they weren’t exactly on the best of terms. Last I noticed, our secret weapon booted Mr. FBI in the pants and sent him sprawling on the road.”

  She gave him a half scowl and seemed to consider the plan and said, “I can overcome Peck’s likely anger over the boot in his pants. He’s shown an interest in me in the past—”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised,” Acer said.

  “But there’s another problem.” Shana looked at Dane. “Don’t you think my seducing Peck now might undermine the sexual harassment charge?”

  “The hell with that. It wasn’t much of a strategy anyway,” Dane said. “I think David suggested it to get you back onto his side. Peck will jump at the chance to date you—make sure he’s not recording anything. Get him good and compromised, drunk, unclothed, whatever. And pump him for information.”

  “How far do you want me to go?” She gave him a challenging arch of her brow and folded her arms across her chest. Not a good sign.

  The question was a good one. A tough one under the circumstances. He wanted her to have no part of Glen Peck. In truth, he felt like punching the guy into next year. If Peck touched her, no matter how much she enticed him, he’d want to maim the guy.

  He said, “Not that far.”

  And this is why they had the rule. But then, he wasn’t sure if breaking the rule changed how he felt. The whole partnership might be a lost cause. She said nothing. She probably had the same thoughts about the rule and breaking it.

  Acer spoke up, “I’m sure Shana can finesse it. I bet anything she could take the guy down if she had to.”

  “I believe you’re right,” she said.

  The kid walked into the room. “Got anything to eat?”

  Dane opened the fridge and then closed it. “Nope.” He looked at Shana. It was automatic. She scowled back at him. It was equally automatic.

  “We usually dine out for breakfast,” he said.

  “I’ll get us some food,” the kid said and started for the back door.

  “What’s this ‘us’ thing? I told you—”

  “Come on man, I already know too much. And I know you’re not going to kill me or anything. You’re a good guy.” The kid paused. Dane gave him his shark look.

  The kid added, “Deep down.”

  “Here’s some money,” Shana said, rummaging through a drawer—the money drawer. He was going to have to start padlocking that thing.

  “No need. I got bacon and eggs in my fridge at home.”

  “Won’t your ma mind you stealing her food for a bunch of strangers?” Dane asked. A sneaky way to find out more about the kid.

  “Nah. Besides, you’re not a bunch of strangers.”

  “Of course we’re not,” Shana said. “Take the money anyway. And grab some muffins if you can find any at this hour.” She looked at the clock. They all did.

  It was 4:45 a.m. Too damn early on a night he should still be spending with Shana. Maybe they could go back for a nap before breakfast.

  She turned to him and he knew she was reading his mind. Her neck and cheeks had a pleasant pink to them. The rest of her—he couldn’t afford to go there right now.

  “I’m up for bacon,” Acer said. “Be careful.”

  The kid went to the door and then hesitated.

  “Don’t worry—the charge is shut down,” Acer said. “We’ll keep it off for the rest of the day.”

  When he left, Shana said, “We have to do something about him. He’s going to get himself hurt or in trouble if he keeps this up—his involvement with us.”

  Dane shrugged. “Nothing we can do. It’s a free country.”

  Acer said, “I like him. We always had a hanger-on in the old days. Called them stringers or extras—remember?”

  Dane remembered. They’d lost a couple of the stringers back then. But that was war. This was different. Now he could control what happened.

  “It’s decided then. The kid is our new stringer.”

  “Stringer?”

  “Odd jobs. Runs interference. Not part of the group, but on the periphery to do extras and odds and ends. Bits when we need it.”

  “If any of these bits get him hurt, I’ll come after you myself,” Shana said in full-tilt mama bear mode. Her chin was high and her hands were on her hips. The shirt rode a little high and barely covered her bits.

  Dane grinned and glanced at the hem of her shirt. She didn’t miss it. She scowled and dropped her hands and walked past him to the bedroom. He watched her close the door and was about to follow when Acer spoke up.

  “Want some coffee?” He was opening cupboard doors and fishing through.

  “I might return—”

  “Not now, Dane. Now is not a good time. If ever.” Acer looked serious.

&nbs
p; “What the hell? You giving me girl advice?” Acer said nothing.

  “Better not be giving me professional advice,” Dane warned.

  Acer shook his head. “No. It’s just she seems…”

  “Young? Innocent?”

  “Unspoiled. Too good for you.”

  Dane muttered a few expletives. He hated it when he knew he should know better. The rule. The reason for the rule. His reason for the rule. He didn’t own her. He had no right to her. She was beyond his reach. Meant for someone else. He wasn’t meant to be with anyone. Not for long anyway. The stabbing, wrenching knowledge wasn’t new, but it felt worse now.

  Because he’d broken the rule.

  Chapter 7

  When Shana came out of the bedroom and walked back into the kitchen, she felt the change in mood emanating from Dane. It hit her like a hypnotist snapping her out of a trance. The tryst was over. Almost like it never happened. At least not according to him. All the warmth was gone. The tension of pent-up emotion was back. His edge was in place. She felt the chains of self-preserving restraint around her where his embrace had been. They were back to the rule.

  It was her own fault, goddamn it. She should have never broken that rule. Never succumbed to the magnetic animal charisma of Dane the legend. He was like the ultimate forbidden apple, beautiful and tempting, and filled with rotten worms. And she was too foolish and eager to play Eve in Dane’s special garden.

  Acer handed her a cup of coffee. It was black. She took it and let it scald her mouth. She deserved the reminder of what happened when one played with fire. Or hot coffee. Or Dane the damn legend.

  The knock at the back door and the boisterous holler from the kid were a too-welcome distraction. If the poor kid had felt like an outsider or unwanted appendage to their group before, then their sudden all-encompassing attention to him must have been mind-boggling. They pounced.

  Shana took the bag of groceries fresh from his ma’s cupboard and started arranging bowls and pans to set up shop as the cook.