His consideration for her feelings touched her deeply. And she also felt a pang of regret, for being the cause of his self-doubt.
“I want you to push me,” she said, shifting her weight on his lap. “Hard.”
His eyes darkened.
“Hard,” she repeated, brushing her lips over his.
Groaning, he thrust his hands into her hair and his tongue inside her mouth, kissing her good and hard, like a man who’d been starving for the taste of a woman. Like a man who thought he’d never get enough.
She shivered with anticipation.
He’d never had any trouble fulfilling her needs sexually. In the bedroom, he’d always given her exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted now was to surrender to sensation. To strip her mind of paralyzing fears and painful memories.
“Make me forget,” she said, pulling her shirt over her head. His gaze dropped from her mouth to her breasts. Farallon Island was no place for skimpy lingerie, but her intimate apparel was a little less utilitarian than her outerwear. Although supportive, her bra was made of stretchy black satin, edged in lace.
And, to be honest, she could wear a gunny sack and he’d love it.
Growling his approval, he splayed his hands over her rib cage, just underneath her breasts. They swelled at his touch, threatening to spill over the cups of her bra, and her nipples pebbled against the silky fabric.
Moaning, she fisted her hands in his hair and arched her back, pressing her breasts against his face. Needing no further encouragement, he nuzzled her hungrily, trailing kisses along the lacy border of her bra.
She reached behind her back, unfastening the clasp. When her breasts tumbled free, he groaned, filling his hands with her soft flesh. He also filled his mouth, flicking his tongue over one dusky tip, then the other.
“Yes,” she said, squirming on his lap. “God, yes.”
His erection swelled against the apex of her thighs, and she moved back and forth, rubbing herself along the hard length. Seeking heat. Wanting more.
Frustrated by the layers of clothing between them, she tugged at his shirt. He released her breasts, raising his arms over his head to assist her. She tossed the shirt aside and flattened her palms over his chest, making a soft sound of appreciation. His skin was hot and smooth, his muscles bunched beneath her fingertips.
She bit down on his lower lip, tugging gently. “Take off your pants.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up at her command. He stood, letting her body slide along the length of his in a slow, delicious drag. She watched, moistening her lips, while he unfastened the buttons on his weatherproof trousers and pushed them down to his knees. His erection tented the front of his boxer briefs.
Heat pooled to her lower body, making her legs feel wobbly. Smothering another moan, she wrestled with her own pants, kicking them out of the way. Her panties were black satin with lace trim, like her bra. He stared at the apex of her thighs, his Adam’s apple bobbing in agitation, and she felt the fabric there get wet.
Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she stripped them off.
Equally impatient, he shoved his briefs down and reached into the pocket of his trousers, finding a single condom. After stretching it over his jutting erection, he was good to go. With his pants around his ankles and his boots still on, he should have looked ridiculous.
He didn’t.
No heterosexual woman on earth could gaze upon his naked body and think anything but Oh my God or Come to Mama.
Panting with excitement, she lay down on the couch, a soft pile of pillows and blankets behind her back. He sank his knee into the cushion between her parted thighs, positioning himself over her.
“If we do this too fast, I might not get the chance to make you forget,” he said, his voice strained.
She curved her arms around his neck. “Then go slow.”
He began to enter her, gritting his teeth. “Slow…and hard?”
“Just fill me up,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around him. She wanted his mouth covering hers, his hands on her body, his skin against her skin. “Don’t give me too much space. The last thing I need is more space.”
He buried himself in her with a low groan, letting her feel every inch. “That’s…perfect. I don’t think there’s any room to spare.”
That was true, and always had been. They fit together exceedingly well.
In fact, after such a long stint of abstinence, he seemed larger. If she hadn’t been so ready, she might have had trouble accommodating him. As it was, her slick, hot sex grasped him snugly, delighting in the invasion.
Judging by the look on his face, he was sharing her ecstasy. He paused, closing his eyes and savoring the sensation. “It’s been so long, I’d forgotten how good this feels.”
Her tummy quivered. “Really? How long has it been?”
“You know.”
“There hasn’t been anyone else?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He shook his head.
“For me either,” she said, tightening her legs around his waist. “It’s always been you. Just you. Only you.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. Possessing her completely. Then he began to move. Keeping his word, he gave it to her slow and hard, drawing himself out of her with deliberate lassitude, driving back in with enough force to test the couch’s frame. Every time his pelvis bumped into hers, she experienced a jolt of bone-melting pleasure. His control was impressive, his body was amazing and the friction was exquisite.
Outside, the rain pounded against the windows and the wind shrieked around the house, hammering the rooftop.
Inside, they were generating so much heat he was sweating. She raked her nails down his rock-hard pecs and over his clenched stomach muscles, admiring his form. With a strangled growl, he switched positions, sitting back on the couch and bringing her over his lap. He was obviously trying to last longer, and she could take him even deeper this way.
When she reseated herself, they both groaned at the sensation.
All restraint gone, she threw her head back and tilted her hips forward, saying yes. Panting for release. He gave it to her. Licking the pad of his thumb, he pressed it to her clitoris, moving in slow circles.
Her sex pulsed around his, gripping him tightly.
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and screamed his name, shattering into a thousand pieces. Unable to hold on a moment longer, he came with her, a hoarse cry wrenching from his throat as he shuddered against her.
For a long time afterward, she held him close, hugging his head to her chest and stroking the nape of his neck.
Savoring this respite, while the storm raged on outside.
Chapter 17
At dawn, he woke her.
“Seems like the rain’s letting up,” Sean said, shaking her gently. “This may be the only chance we get.”
Daniela blinked, trying to clear her vision. She felt as though she’d just closed her eyes. They’d made love several times, and slept only a few hours between them, but he didn’t appear haggard in the least.
He looked ready to pounce.
With a tool belt around his waist, work boots on his feet, and his body poised for action, he exuded strength and determination.
He’d always been raring to go in the morning.
Groaning, she disentangled herself from the blankets, searching the immediate area for her clothes. She’d been sleeping in his flannel shirt and a pair of knee-high socks.
“That’s a good look for you,” he murmured, ogling her bare thighs.
She yawned, treating him with a view of her naked bottom as she rifled through her overnight bag. When she found a pair of cotton bikini briefs, she tugged them on, along with yesterday’s pants and her waterproof boots. Fighting off the remnants of sleep, she stood, stretching her muscles.
His expression grew troubled. “Are you sore?”
“Not really.”
“I’m sorry if I was too rough last night.”
&nbs
p; “Sean,” she chided. “Stop.”
“It’s no wonder you didn’t want me pawing you after the accident, exhausting you with my insatiable appetite—”
Laughter bubbled up from within her, spilling over. It was inappropriate, but irrepressible. “In case you didn’t notice, I was just as insatiable as you were. I love your appetite. That was never the problem.”
“Then…what was?”
She sobered, raking a hand through her hair. They’d had six months of grief counseling, during which she’d tried to sort through her feelings and he’d suffered in silence. Their sexual relationship had never been a topic of discussion. Sean wouldn’t open up to the therapist at all, and Daniela’s biggest concern had been keeping her head above water.
She’d assumed that her desire for him would come back eventually. And it had. Little by little, it had.
“Do you remember that night you kissed me, before the separation?”
“Of course. I pushed too hard—”
“No. I wanted you, too. But the instant you said ‘baby,’ I shut down.”
He shook his head, cursing himself.
“A slip of the tongue, you claimed, but it sounded like a voiced wish. And I couldn’t take it anymore. Every time I looked at you, I was reminded of Natalie. Every time you got close to me, I felt claustrophobic.” Although she knew she was hurting him, she had to say the words out loud. So they could move on. “At that point, I couldn’t see past my own grief. I thought I was going to be miserable forever. I told myself that you were better off without me.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I knew you deserved a woman who would make you happy. Accept your touch. Give you a family.”
He took her by the hand. “I told you I don’t care about that. You’re my family. You’re the only one I need.”
She closed her eyes, feeling tears spill onto her cheeks. When she opened them, she watched for his reaction carefully. “You don’t care about having children?”
It was a difficult question, and he struggled with his response. “I don’t know, Dani. I don’t have any expectations right now, to be honest. I do know that I can’t live without you. And I know I can live without everything else.”
“Okay,” she said, letting out a breath.
“Okay, what?”
“Once we get back to San Francisco, I want to work this out.” She smiled, hugging him. “No more space between us.”
He held her close for a long moment. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Daniela felt good about the decision. This wasn’t a lukewarm reconciliation, or a halfhearted effort. They were full steam ahead, sexually. And they’d always been crazy in love. If they needed a bit of help with communication, that was okay.
She still wasn’t sure what the future held, or even what the afternoon would bring, but she felt more hopeful than ever.
If they could make it off this island, they could overcome any obstacle.
“I’m going to check the damage on the satellite receiver,” he said, helping her into her jacket. “Maybe it will be a simple repair. While I’m doing that, I want you to watch my back. Brent got snuck up on yesterday.”
She nodded, moistening her lips. The tagging spears they’d been carrying around last night doubled as walking sticks, so they brought them along. He pushed aside the bookcase and unlocked the door, stepping outside warily. She followed at his signal, a cold wind blowing the hair off her forehead.
The rain had turned the world gray. It was falling lightly now, the dark sky swollen with still more. Rivulets of water trickled across the rocky ground beneath her feet, taking what little soil the island had with it.
Sean looked out past the landing, where powerful waves crashed along the jagged shoreline, sending sprays of saltwater high into the air.
“Do you think they made it?” she asked, shivering.
“I hope so,” he said, his jaw clenched.
It went without saying that he’d never forgive himself if they hadn’t. The other crew members were so young. They had their entire lives ahead of them.
The only alternative would have been to let them stay here on the island while she and Sean took Brent to the mainland. Either way, there was danger. Daniela could only pray they’d made the right choice.
In grim silence, they ascended the path, heading toward the lighthouse tower, moving carefully over the sliding earth. Rain continued to fall, soft but relentless. Her face became damp and her mind cleared.
She continued walking, sucking in deep breaths of frigid air.
As they rounded the last corner, he took her elbow, helping her past the precarious drop near the Washtub. When he released her, she climbed the remaining steps slowly, filled with a strong sense of foreboding.
Before inspecting the satellite equipment, he crept into the lighthouse tower, gesturing for her to stay back. The structure offered some protection from the wind and rain, and they couldn’t play it too safe.
Elizabeth might be hiding somewhere, crouched to strike.
To Daniela’s relief, the tower was uninhabited. Sean reappeared beside her, taking his cell phone out of his front pocket.
“Anything?”
He shook his head, pressing buttons. “No service.”
“Damn.”
With a sigh, he put the phone away and propped his tagging spear against the wall. He needed his hands free to check the satellite receiver, which was just outside the tower, about twenty feet away.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, kissing her cheek. Her insides warmed at the feel of his facial hair, a firm bristle against her delicate skin. She knew she bore the faint marks of his whiskers in other, more intimate, places on her body.
Clearing her throat, she nodded. “I’ll stay right here.”
With due diligence, she watched him traverse the short distance from the tower to the satellite disk. Like the radio, it appeared to have been smashed. They couldn’t communicate with the authorities.
She hoped Sean could fix it.
Instead of staring at his back, Daniela turned her eyes toward the path and kept her weapon at the ready, guarding her man like an armed sentry. With a panoramic view of the island, there was a lot of ground to cover, but very little chance she could miss a sneak attack. Behind the tower, there were only sheer cliffs, impossible to climb. Before her, there was a single footpath.
And yet, the sinking sensation refused to leave her. She wouldn’t feel safe until they were back inside the house. Maybe even back under the covers.
Taking slow, even breaths, she continued to scan the hillside, frequently checking back on Sean. After a few tense moments, she caught a flash of movement.
Elizabeth.
She must have been standing on the narrow ledge behind the tower, her back flattened against the opposite wall, a frightening precipice at her feet. Sean hadn’t even checked there; the daring hiding place hadn’t occurred to either of them.
While Daniela watched, frozen with horror, Elizabeth rushed toward Sean, holding a wicked-looking hatchet over her head. Until now, Daniela hadn’t been sure that the cool redhead was responsible for harming Brent. She’d considered the cage-diving crew unlikely suspects, but Elizabeth hadn’t seemed violent.
One glimpse of her, wild-haired and wild-eyed, changed Daniela’s mind.
“Watch out!” she screamed, her heart in her throat.
Sean turned, his eyes widening in surprise. He reacted quickly, scrambling backward to avoid a blow.
“Leave the equipment alone,” Elizabeth said, baring her teeth.
Sean stopped retreating, his stance defensive. He had some sharp tools in his belt, but he didn’t reach for them.
Daniela was several strides away from the pair. She stumbled forward, tightening her grip on the tagging spear.
Elizabeth turned her head toward the sound. “Don’t come any closer,” she said, the blade of the hatchet gleaming.
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Sean
said.
Daniela hesitated, praying that Elizabeth would be reasonable. “Put down the hatchet and talk to us. Maybe we can help.”
Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “The only help I need is in shutting down this hellhole for good.”
Sean and Daniela exchanged a worried glance. Apparently, Elizabeth was experiencing a mental breakdown. She’d succumbed to the pressures of this stressful, treacherous place. “Let’s talk inside the house, where you can warm up,” he said, inching toward her. “Put down the weapon. Please.”
Elizabeth wavered, gripping the hatchet in her gloved hands. Her clothes were wet and her face was dirty. She looked lost and cold and confused.
“We can help you,” he murmured, stepping closer.
But the instant his hand touched her shoulder, she exploded into action, swinging the hatchet over her head. He reacted just as quickly, blocking the attack. The descending blade made contact with his forearm, sinking into his flesh. The sleeve of his jacket split open. In an instant, his forearm was soaked in blood.
Daniela cried out, running toward them.
As Sean moved backward, trying to avoid further injury, Daniela charged, hitting Elizabeth with all the strength she possessed. The tactic worked. The tagging spear struck her like a javelin, impaling the middle of her stomach.
Screaming in pain, Elizabeth tumbled over the side of the cliff.
Momentum propelled Daniela, who was still holding the spear, right off the edge with her. She released the weapon a second too late, flailing wildly as she plummeted through the air, praying she’d clear the shore. Thankfully, the cliff face was sheer and the surf was up. After a nauseating free fall, she hit the water with an icy slap.
The cold was shocking, breath-stealing, but she couldn’t afford to freeze up. She started swimming the instant she went under. As soon as she resurfaced, she looked behind her, eyes stinging from saltwater.
Daniela saw only a flash of metal and a glint of bared teeth. Elizabeth was coming after her.
Daniela ducked under again, feeling the whoosh of the blade as it cut through the water next to her ear. Thinking quickly, she scrambled out of her jacket and let it float up, putting a tenuous barrier between them.
Stranded With Her Ex Page 17
