Rogue (Phoenix Rising)

by Brynley Blake

  I shrug off his thanks. “Anyone would have done the same.”

  “Not many would have actually been able to,” he presses. He gestures to the man who came into the cave to rescue us. “He told me how dangerous the situation really was. So did Paige.”

  “Not many would have had to,” I mutter under my breath. There’s something about this that doesn’t smell right, although I can’t quite put my finger on it. What motive could Jake have possibly had to knowingly send us into a dangerous cave? “I’m glad we survived,” I say aloud. “No thanks to Jake.”

  The boat takes us back to El Nido, where Paige and her father meet up with the rest of their family, and McKenzie says good-bye to them while I book us a room at a small but clean hotel on the beach. The Kairos is docked a good two miles south of us, which would take an additional hour to get to, and quite frankly, I don’t think McKenzie would make it. She’s held up like a trooper so far, but there are dark shadows under her eyes, and as soon as the adrenaline rush that got her out of the cave wears off, she’s going to crash hard. She needs a hot meal, a good night’s sleep, and solid ground under her feet. We can head back to the Kairos in the morning.

  While she showers, I ask around about Jake. Interestingly, he seems to have appeared as mysteriously as he disappeared. No one has any idea who he is. It’s as if he didn’t exist.

  When I get back to the room, McKenzie is curled up on the bed wearing nothing but the thin hotel towel that’s barely big enough to cover her torso, and I get a tantalizing glimpse of creamy thighs and her sweet bare pussy lips as she shifts on the bed. She looks both innocent and intoxicatingly sexy with her slightly damp hair framing her beautiful, unmade-up face. I remind myself that tonight she needs to be held, not fucked senseless.

  “I brought dinner,” I say, holding up the boxes of Chinese takeout I’d gotten from the restaurant next door. She smiles and shifts on the bed so I have room to sit down, giving me an even more enticing peek at what’s hidden beneath the towel. I hold up a T-shirt emblazoned with the Philippine flag and the words It’s more fun in the Philippines. “And T-shirts for both of us, since we don’t have any clothes with us other than swimsuits. Although you don’t get yours until we check out tomorrow. I want you naked. We aren’t going to do anything but sleep, but I need to feel your warm body next to mine tonight.”

  She smiles at that and I kiss her, biting her full bottom lip before handing her a box of noodles.

  She eats a little, but she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open. She’s exhausted. I take her box of noodles, set it on the night table, and turn out the light before lying down next to her, tugging the towel off her, and pulling her into my arms. She snuggles into me, her head pillowed on my chest, and I lightly run my hands over her soft, satiny skin. God, but I love touching her. I love the way her body feels against mine.

  But eventually, our time together is going to come to an end. I’ll have to go back to Mexico and finish what I started three years ago, and I can’t take her with me. It’s ugly and corrupt and dangerous—everything she’s not—and she has her whole life ahead of her. She deserves more than I could ever give her. But the thought of never holding her again, never feeling her soft skin and hearing that sexy lilt to her voice as she teases me, or seeing that sweet smile on her face as I slide into her is physically painful.

  “When do you have to go back?” Her voice in the darkness, putting into words the very thoughts that are going through my own head, catches me off guard.

  “I still have some time.”

  She sighs and burrows in closer, and I hug her tightly.

  “I’m sorry about Liam’s list,” I say, tracing the curve of her ear before brushing my thumb across her cheek. I’m sure after hours in the water, the list is long gone. I remember everything on it—I have a photographic memory—but I know how important it was to her.

  “Actually, I didn’t have it with me this time. I left it on the boat.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s any safer, but at least it’s possible it’s still there. If no one has ransacked the boat again, that is.”

  “Oh, no one will find it where I hid it.”

  I can hear the smug smile in her voice. “Where did you hide it?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?” This time, there’s almost a giggle.

  I smile in the dark. “Well, now I’m dying to know. And if you don’t tell me, I’m going to torture you until you do.”

  That gets a sharp intake of breath. “That’s tempting.” She waits a beat and then says, “I took a tampon out of the applicator, rolled up the list, put it in the applicator and then put it back in the box. Unless whoever’s trying to find Liam’s list is a woman, it’s safe forever.”

  She never fails to make me laugh. It’s a trait I’m not used to in a woman, but one that I’m starting to think a man shouldn’t have to live without. “You’re probably right,” I admit, laughing. I press her head to my chest. “Go to sleep, my beautiful warrior princess.”

  I stroke her hair, and she’s still. Several long minutes pass, and I’m convinced she’s fallen asleep when she says softly, “You don’t think it was an accident, do you?”

  I don’t have to ask what she’s talking about. We both know. I shake my head. “I don’t know. Something about it seems a little off. No one around here has ever heard of Jake or his cave guide service. He should have known how dangerous that cave is, especially at high tide, yet he sent us into it anyway.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I don’t believe in coincidences. There were guys with guns possibly shooting at you in Costa Rica, someone looking through your bag on the boat, and now this. I don’t know what’s going on, but someone wants something from you. I just can’t figure out if they want you dead or alive.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  McKenzie

  The sun streaming through the open window wakes me, and for about ten seconds, I wonder where I am. But the warm naked body of Noah next to me, his arm possessively slung over my torso and his leg pinning both of mine to the small bed, reminds me immediately. I like the way he treats me like I’m his, completely and unequivocally. I have never felt the way I feel with him—beautiful, protected, special. But most of all, alive. Wild and free and fearless like I’ve always wanted to be. And I have to admit, after years of being the caretaker, it’s nice to have someone stronger than me to lean on, someone who wants to take care of me.

  Oh God. I’m falling for him. It’s no wonder. He’s gorgeous, sexy, commanding, intelligent, and understands me and what I need more than I do. I sigh, taking advantage of the fact that he’s sleeping to study him for as long as I want, trying to memorize every detail of his face that has become so precious to me. Our time together is going to end eventually, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive it. Although he said he has some time off, I’m sure he will eventually have to go back to his SEAL team, wherever that is. He’s been clear about what his life is like and how his career prevents him from being in a relationship. And truthfully, I know better than anyone how dangerous the life of a Navy SEAL can be, and how in an instant it can all be taken away.

  But if I’ve learned anything over the last few months, it’s that you can’t let fear stop you from living. I’d rather have a month of Technicolor wonder with Noah than a lifetime of gray because I was afraid of taking whatever time we could have together. And who knows? If anyone can defy death, it’s Noah. I’ve known a lot of SEALs, and without exception, Liam’s teammates are the most badass, most confident, toughest men I’ve ever met. But somehow, Noah makes them all look like boys playing at being tough. And he won’t be a Navy SEAL forever.

  I’m glad I have him to protect me. Although from what, or rather, who? I mull over the things Noah said last night. Who would want me dead, and why?

  I slowly drift back into the safe abyss of sleep, breathing in Noah’s scent in my dreams. When I wake up, he’s gone. Nothing reassures me that he was there at all except for a single strand of dark
hair that curls around the edge of my pillow.

  I get dressed quickly, pulling on my swimsuit, the T-shirt he bought me, and the shorts I’d worn over my swimsuit yesterday and go in search of him. I find him downstairs, talking to one of the vendors selling handmade items on the beach in front of the hotel. He flashes me that rare but contagious grin of his and waves me over. He’s holding a delicate-looking silver anklet with a heart-shaped padlock and a key dangling from it.

  “Do you like it?”

  I’d like anything Noah chose for me, but the significance of the lock and key—and the heart—makes it even more meaningful, and I know it’s a gift I will cherish forever. I realize with a pang that it will probably be the only tangible reminder I’ll have of the week I belonged to Noah Payne. Well, that and the It’s More Fun in the Philippines shirt.

  He pays the woman for the anklet and bends down to fasten it around my ankle, pausing to kiss and then nip my inner thigh before standing and grabbing my hand. Thirty minutes later, we’ve checked out of the hotel and are eating breakfast—poached eggs, toast, and coffee—at a cute little restaurant on the beach, our table in the sand several yards from the sparkling ocean. This place is paradise. It’s going to be hard to go back home without the ocean constantly in view. And without Noah. The reality of that hits me in the gut, and I shake my head, trying to force the thoughts away. I need to focus on living in the moment and enjoying the time we have together before we both have to go back to our real lives. Lives that couldn’t possibly work together.

  The brothers who rescued us have retrieved our kayaks and left them on the beach for us, and we leisurely make the hour-long trip back to the Kairos. Noah is a sweet combination of worried and protective, constantly making sure I’m not getting too tired or, I think, freaking out being back in a kayak after yesterday. When we reach the Kairos, I have the odd sensation of being home. Luckily, things appear to be just the way we left them. I check my tampon box, satisfied to see Liam’s list still safely rolled into the plastic applicator, while Noah pulls up anchor. By the time I come back up on deck, the beautiful islands of Bacuit Bay are becoming smaller and smaller as we head toward the open sea and Malaysia. Noah has told me it’s the tail end of tourist season and the beginning of the rainy season, and although we haven’t seen any rain, we haven’t seen many boats, either. For now, it seems as if we have the entire ocean to ourselves. In another life, the thought would have made me panic. What if something happened? What if we needed help? But with Noah, I’m not worried at all. I feel completely safe.

  We spend the next five hours sailing. Or rather, Noah spends the next five hours sailing, since he refuses to let me do anything, even something as simple as going below deck to make us dinner. I mostly lie in the sun and do nothing while he fusses over me like my grandmother does, insisting that I relax after the ordeal in the cave and treating the bruise on my thigh from slamming into the cave wall like it’s a mortal wound.

  “I don’t know why you’re so worried about a bruise. It’s not like you didn’t bruise me the other night yourself,” I finally grumble when he mentions it one time too many.

  “What do you mean?” He looks stricken.

  I roll my eyes. I don’t know what happened to the stern, take-what-he-wants, boundary-pushing Noah I’ve spent the last week with, but I much prefer him to this watered-down, mother-hen version. “Never mind.”

  His hands are on me immediately, high-handedly pulling up my shirt to inspect my skin for himself, and I fight back a sigh of relief. Thank God the true Noah can’t be suppressed. No matter how hard he tries to be otherwise, at heart Noah Payne is a man who likes to be in charge, and I love that about him.

  He finds the faint purple blooms of color from his teeth marking a trail up my torso, and kisses the one on the swell of my breast softly.

  “Fuck, Kenzie. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” The bold assertion surprises me as much as it does him. “I like the way you manhandle me. I’m not fragile, Noah. You’re the one who showed me that. Why are you suddenly treating me like I am?”

  His brown eyes bore into me as his brow furrows.

  “I may have been afraid to do stuff before Liam died and I was forced to face the things that scared me the most, but I’ve never been fragile. I see that now. I’ve been through a lot. It’s not easy watching everyone you love die. At first that terrified me, to realize that just like that, life can end. But Liam, and then you, showed me what I’m capable of. How to live fearlessly. I’ve always wanted that; I just didn’t know how to reach out and grab it. There’s a whole world out there, and just because it might all end doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go explore it. You know what? Yesterday, in the cave, I didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold once. I didn’t once think I couldn’t do it or I wouldn’t survive. I think I’ve finally stepped so far away from my comfort zone that I can do hard things. Scary things. And you know what I realized? Maybe I’m braver and more fearless than I thought.”

  He frowns, processing what I’ve said. “You surprised me in the cave.”

  “Because you thought I’d be scared?”

  “Partly.” He smiles. “Hell, I was scared.” He rubs the pad of his thumb across my cheekbone. “I was ready to save you, but you were just as intent on saving yourself, and me and Paige in the process. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You are an amazing woman.”

  It’s like the shutters over my heart have been thrown open and the sun is pouring in, illuminating all the dark corners.

  I stand up and walk over to the rail, looking out over the ocean. The sun is starting to set, and the sky is an explosion of orange and yellow and red. Noah follows me, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his nose nuzzling my neck as I shiver with pleasure.

  “You’re really okay?”

  “I’m more than okay. But I’m starting to get a little bored. And you know what happens when I get bored…” I can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against my ass, and I wiggle provocatively against him.

  He growls. “Is that how you want to play, sweetheart? You want to tease me?”

  His unfailing and unequivocal physical response to me is empowering. Feeling bold and like some sort of sexual goddess, I grind my ass slowly across his groin. His hands cup my breasts as he kisses the back of my neck and I arch into him. “Yes, sir,” I say throatily. “That’s exactly how I want to play.”

  His reaction is swift and peremptory. Before I know what’s happened, he’s spun me around and has my hands behind my back, his fingers encircling my wrists with an iron grip. I can feel his fingers at my back, unfastening the bra I changed into when we got back on the boat. He slowly slides it off from under my T-shirt with his other hand, keeping my wrists imprisoned. I can feel my nipples tighten into hard points, poking at the soft fabric of the T-shirt.

  “In that case, I’m about to take you somewhere that can’t be stamped on your passport.”

  I swallow hard, my pulse racing. I can already feel the moisture gathering between my legs at his words.

  “I’m ready. I want to get lost with you,” I whisper.

  “Oh, you will, baby,” he says, his voice raspy. “We’re moored here until morning, and we’ve got nothing but time. I’m going to take you into the darkness. I’m going to make you want things you never dreamed of, and then I’m going to make all your dreams a reality. First I’m going to strip away your clothes, and then I’m going to strip away everything else—your sight, your freedom, your inhibitions and your fears, your control, your dignity—everything that encumbers you so that there’s nothing left but sensation, and the needy girl at your core. I want you to get lost in the pleasure. I want you to get lost in me.”

  “Yes.” It’s a whispered plea for everything he’s offering, everything he wants to take and everything he wants to give in return.

  He abruptly steps back, letting go of my wrists.

  “Take off your shorts.”

  I do as he says, sliding them prov
ocatively over my hips. It’s surprisingly easy to play the sex siren with him.

  “Pull up your shirt; expose your breasts to me.” His no-nonsense tone forbids arguing, and I find myself pulling my shirt up over my breasts. I’m about to pull it all the way off, but he stops me. “Leave it right there.”

  I look at him with confusion. “Why?”

  He silences me with a finger on my lips and a stern look. “Be quiet. Don’t talk. Don’t question. Don’t think or protest. Simply do as your told. And experience every sensation as it comes. Do you understand?”

  I nod.

  “Good. Pull your panties down, just to midthigh, that’s right. You know why not all the way off?”

  I shake my head.

  “Because it reminds you that your panties are down.” His wicked smile sends shivers down my spine…the good kind. “Now get on your knees and suck me.”

  Oh God. Why the hell is this so fucking hot? I drop to my knees and pull his shorts down slowly. His cock, ramrod straight and pulsing, springs out. I grab the base of it with my hand as I deliberately swipe my tongue around the broad head of his shaft. I love the taste of him, like salt and earth.

  “No hands,” he barks. “Keep them behind your back, or I’ll tie them there.”

  I do as he says, clasping my fingers together behind my back as I take him in my mouth again. It’s harder without using my hands. I feel off balance and slightly out of control, which I’m sure is exactly how he wants me to feel. Without being able to hold his cock still with my hand as I lick him, I have to either keep him in my mouth or chase his cock with my mouth like a puppy chasing its tail. I choose holding him in my mouth, sucking on his cock so I don’t lose it as I take him deeper. He groans and cups his hand around the back of my head gently. He lets me suck and lick and bob up and down on his cock at my own pace until he can’t stand it anymore. Then, with the pressure of his hand on the back of my head guiding me, he sets the pace and rhythm, thrusting in and out of my open and willing mouth, all the way to the back of my throat and out again, over and over, making it crystal clear he owns my mouth as surely as he owns the rest of me. Like before, when he forced me to take him so deeply I gagged, I’m turned on by the way he pushes my limits with careful and deliberate ruthlessness, and I willingly relinquish my mouth—even my breath—to him, trusting him not to push me too far or for too long.