Dangerous Curves

by Karen Anders

  Fatigue pulled at her and she realized that getting some sleep was a better idea than standing here and second-guessing herself. What was done, was done.

  She walked over to the bed and lay down, closing her eyes.

  The dream hit her again. It wasn’t so much a dream as a memory. They were at the beach, her parents and Shane. He was playing in the sand with her, packing buckets full and turning them over to form the castle.

  As she played, the sky darkened and it was as if Shane shrank away from her. When she looked around, her parents had disappeared. Suddenly the storm hit, wind tore at her hair, rain lashed her skin with icy, hard pinpricks.

  She called for Shane, but all she could see was a man in the shadows, that jaw, the bone structure, the powerful body.

  Rio woke with a start and a headache. Her breath came in pants as the residual uneasiness of a dream hung around her. Eyes…She’d felt eyes on her, staring from the dark. But she hadn’t been able to see his face, had only known somehow it was familiar.

  It was only a dream, but the apprehension lingered as she sat up slowly and took stock of herself and the room around her. It had rained. The surface of the sliding glass door was spattered with windblown droplets. The weather system had moved on, but gray still clung to the sky.

  She rubbed a hand over her face, groaning a bit as she had a headache. She didn’t know how long she’d slept.

  The sheets were torn loose from the foot of the bed, the spread rumpled.

  Grimacing at the taste of bitter dreams in her mouth, she picked up the phone and ordered more food and some pills to take care of her headache.

  Walking over to the now-cold breakfast, she poured herself a glass of juice. But before she could bring it to her mouth, it hit her like a speeding truck.

  That face. The face she’d only glimpsed at Fuentes’s—could it have been Shane?

  “No, that was impossible.” They’d buried him with honors as a hero. She’d seen the casket, seen him lowered into the ground. She’d put flowers on his grave for three years. She’d cried buckets of tears, vowed to bring his killer to justice. It wasn’t possible.

  But that man’s bone structure had been so much like her brother’s. She clutched her stomach as it twisted with the uneasiness of not being sure.

  The juice glass fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers and pain crashed into her, her throat knotting from the shock.

  Could he have been working for Fuentes? What could be the explanation? Was it possible her brother had betrayed them all and sided with a criminal?

  He could very well be a traitor to his country, to her, to the memory of how they’d been raised.

  It was too much to bear. With the emotional confession to Max about why they were really here in Maui and all the events of the last two days, Rio crumpled to the carpet, tears filling her eyes. Her world cracked, breaking foundations and tumbling her ideals.

  Time slipped away as she sat there wondering, remembering, hurting, grieving. She let go of all the tears she had tried to hold on to, of all the pain she had been so afraid to feel. It came pouring out in a torrent, in a storm that shook her and drained her.

  Right now she had no proof, no answers, but she intended to get them. As soon as she got back to L.A., she would confront the one man who had them. The director of the DEA, her boss.

  Reeling with the information her brother could be working with Fuentes, Rio now understood: Shane was the Ghost. She really had seen the Ghost’s face, and not only that, but the DEA also knew she posed a danger to them—that’s why they made her distract Max. She could blow the whole undercover operation.

  Wait a minute. Shane could be the undercover agent her boss had mentioned. She grabbed on to that thought like a lifeline. Would Shane do such a thing? Would he let her think he was dead for revenge of his own?

  It was inconceivable her brother could now be on the wrong side of the law.

  She needed answers. Was her brother dead or very much alive? Was he working for Fuentes or the DEA? Had everything she’d based her career on been a lie?

  And she would get justice. She had to. If there was no justice, then all the suffering was for nothing. Senseless. Meaningless. There had to be justice. Even now, even too late, she wanted justice for herself and her parents.

  She couldn’t put the past behind her. It would never be forgotten, she vowed as old fears and new guilt settled inside her and solidified into a new strength.

  There was a knock at the door and Rio stiffened and rose quickly to the backpack. Pulling out the Glock, she concealed it behind her and went to answer the door.

  The bellman with the cart for the food stood on the other side of the door. She let him in, keeping the gun out of his sight and stashing it in the backpack as a pretense to getting the tip. He silently took the other food cart and handed her the bill. She signed it, tipped him and he left the room.

  There was another knock and, taking no chances, she went through the whole routine again. Instead, Max was on the other side of the door. He looked damp and gorgeous, but his lean jaw was clenched tight. His dark hair was a disheveled, enticing mess around his head, as if he’d repeatedly combed through the strands with his fingers and left them to fall where they may. He looked so sinfully sexy he literally took her breath away.

  “I forgot the key card.”

  Resolutely, she stepped aside and let him in.

  He peered at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I had a bad dream and I have a headache, but I’m fine,” she lied. She had no intention of telling Max about Shane and that he could be working with Fuentes until she figured out her own feelings. Most important, she had no proof. And would he even trust her?

  That thought just added to the pain she was already shouldering.

  “Are you okay?” she asked pensively.

  “You mean, have I gotten over my anger?”

  “Yes.”

  “Somewhat.”

  She walked past Max, toward the enticing smell of food, hoping he would follow.

  It surprised her, the strength of her desire to run to him, to smile into his face and hope he pulled her into his arms for a kiss. Like a normal couple. She didn’t know what they were, but she doubted they were that. Too many complications. So she wasn’t sure how to act.

  He fell in beside her and her entire body responded to his nearness. Near the bed he pulled off the damp T-shirt and, using the towel from his shower, dried off.

  “I guess you got caught in the rain.”

  “Yes. It was refreshing and cleared my head.”

  With deceptive laziness, he folded his arms across his broad, bare chest and leaned casually against the door frame, his entire demeanor cautious, and his guard in place. Not that she blamed him for being standoffish with her.

  His indifference was exactly what she deserved, no matter how much she hated being on the receiving end of his aloof attitude. Even when she needed his warmth, his caring, his uncanny ability to make her feel so calm amidst the many burdens that weighed heavily on her conscience.

  She picked up the hamburger and took a bite, chewing and moaning a little at the delicious tastes in her mouth.

  “Looks good,” he said, his husky tone giving away the fact he wasn’t as unaffected by her presence as he’d like her to believe.

  “Want a bite?” she offered.

  A muscle in his cheek twitched, and a spark of anger flashed in his eyes that he’d welcome her so openly, so eagerly, when she’d kept so much from him.

  “Please, take a bite,” she pleaded, knowing it wasn’t about the hamburger at all. It felt so much like Eve offering the apple to Adam, but in this case it didn’t have anything to do with the devil and everything to do with them.

  She splayed her free hand against his hard, virile chest, her impulsive reaction effectively cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. Rio had the sinking feeling his next words would have been too devastating to hear.

  He must have heard the raw
emotion in her voice because something in his expression softened, and he reached out for the burger in her other hand and took a bite.

  Without another word, she slid her flattened hand up his taut chest, along his shoulder, and curled her fingers along his nape. Silently, she pulled his mouth down to her parted lips and kissed him—soft, lush kisses that grew hotter, wetter, more daring—until with an unrefined groan of surrender he responded.

  She might have been the initiator, but it wasn’t long before Max took control, and she gladly let him. He backed her up against the nearest wall. Removing the burger and setting it down on the table, he pressed his hard, fully aroused body against hers as his mouth claimed and devoured with ravenous greed. He molded her hips in his hands, his fingers biting into her flesh through the cotton of her shorts as he shifted her closer, then slid the muscular length of his thigh between her legs, forcing them apart, forcing her to endure the strong, steady rhythm and friction against her sex.

  She felt the rush of moisture, and the heat between them flared with startling suddenness—like a flame touched to dry kindling. An orgasm built, but just as her climax increased in aching need, Max pulled his mouth from hers and removed his leg, leaving her on the verge of an exquisite release.

  Breathing hard, his eyes blazing hot, he held her heavy-lidded gaze with his own and began unfastening the buttons on her shirt. His fingers stroked her skin, the swell of her breast, the deep valley in between, as he slowly made his way downward to her stomach.

  He dragged the sides of her shirt down her arms, along with the straps of her pink bra, until both caught in the crook of her arms. Then he pushed the lacy cups down, freeing her full, aching breasts to his gaze. Her nipples tightened painfully, and she arched her back until the tender peaks scraped across his naked chest.

  The sensation jolted her, teased her, but that brush of contact wasn’t enough. “Max,” she moaned, flushed and panting with the excruciating need to experience more.

  “Don’t fret, Rio.” Dropping his head, he lightly bit her full lower lip, and then soothed the sting with a damp, silky stroke of his tongue before moving his mouth up to her ear.

  “I’m going to take you,” he said, his voice rough and wholly male. “With my fingers, then my mouth, and finally, my cock.”

  “Max,” she gasped. “Yes.”

  “There’s much more between us than this,” he said softly. “When it comes to you, Rio. I have no defenses.”

  Her eyes stung, knowing that she craved him as much as he craved her, but she didn’t know where it could lead.

  He thrust and gyrated his hips against hers, driving home to her that he had what it took to back up his erotic threat.

  He framed her jaw in his big hands, holding her steady as he tipped her face up to his. The bright flare of hunger in his stare and the dark, edgy beauty of his aroused expression stole her breath and incited another surge of liquid heat between her thighs, priming her for what lay ahead.

  “I know you’re sorry about lying to me.”

  “I am, Max. I truly am.”

  The last thing she saw was the satisfaction in his gaze before he captured her lips with his, and this time the kiss was hard, fierce and deeply carnal right from the initial onslaught. She felt his primitive need to be in control, to dominate, to possess her completely. It was exactly what she craved, and she gave herself to him freely, without inhibitions, holding nothing back.

  He continued to plunder her mouth with the hot, voracious sweep of his tongue, making her melt, inside and out. His hands dropped to the button on her shorts and he impatiently released it and the zipper to shove her shorts off.

  Then he ripped her brand-new underwear as if it were tissue paper. She gasped in shock, and he swallowed the sound as his palm skimmed up her quivering thigh with driving purpose. Two long, thick fingers slid inside her, filling her up, and his thumb strummed across her pulsing clit.

  Wrenching his mouth from hers with a low growl, he bent his head to her breast and latched on to a nipple, biting her softly. He suckled her, hard and strong, creating a tugging, rippling sensation that spiraled down to where his fingers were stroking and gliding within her. Then his thumb joined in the foray, so knowing and skillful, and so intent on pushing her to dizzying heights of pleasure.

  Feeling as though she needed to hang on to something solid, she pushed her hands through his hair and twisted her fingers into the soft curls just as need coiled through her body with a ferocity she didn’t recognize. She tipped her head back against the wall, and cried out as her orgasm crested and a blissful warmth shimmied through her in waves.

  Just when she was certain she was going to collapse to the floor, Max smoothed his hands over her bare bottom and grasped the backs of her thighs, bending her knees as he lifted her off the ground.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he told her, his voice strained with his own barely contained passion.

  She managed that much at least and was amazed at his strength and stamina as he took her in his arms and carried her down to the bed.

  But he wasn’t done with her yet, she knew, as he tumbled her unceremoniously onto the bed, then grabbed her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the mattress so her legs dangled over the side. Absently, she reached up and skimmed her fingers over her engorged nipples, which were still damp from his mouth and tongue. She teased him, teased herself, and he stared at her naked body with hungry eyes, seducing her mind and senses right along with the rest of her.

  Not so surprisingly, another spiral of desire curled within her as his promise of the various ways he planned to take her echoed in her mind, along with her acquiescence so far. She prepared herself for the second round of pleasure, certain he’d be just as ruthless in his attempt to make her come as he’d been moments ago.

  He dropped to his knees in front of her and pushed her thighs wide open with his splayed palms, then used his thumb to spread open her sex, exposing her completely. He leaned forward, and she closed her eyes, feeling a gust of hot breath, then the velvet-soft glide of his tongue along her wet, swollen cleft. He closed his mouth over her, kissing her intimately, deeply, using his tongue in ways that were wonderfully wicked and shockingly erotic. He manipulated her clit with those clever thumbs of his again, pressing, rubbing, stroking. It was almost more than she could stand.

  Those familiar tremors undulated through her, his seductive effect on her inescapable. Moaning softly, she gave herself over to his unrelenting mouth and his swirling, thrusting tongue.

  Even before the sweet aftershocks of her orgasm had time to subside, he was standing between her legs, towering over her, his fingers ripping open the front placket of his shorts. She watched in dreamy awe as the finely honed muscles across his well-defined chest and along his arms bunched and flexed with his quick movements.

  Once the buttons were undone, he shoved the material and his boxers to his thighs. He had his thick cock in his hand, clearly planning to take her to greater heights on the wing of her previous vow.

  He hooked his arms beneath the crooks of her knees so she was wide open to him and he was in complete control. The broad head of his shaft glided through her slippery wetness, unerringly found the entrance to her body and pressed in an excruciating inch.

  His face was drawn with such raw, sexual need, and she clutched at the covers at her sides as an anchor, expecting the pleasure of his first thrust to be overwhelming.

  But nothing could prepare her for the way his body covered her, the way he braced his forearms on either side of her shoulders, which kept her splayed legs trapped against the muscled weight of his body, the unyielding strength of his chest. It also made for a tighter fit, she realized, as he speared forward and impaled himself to the hilt, stealing her breath at the same time.

  He dropped his head against her neck and groaned as he forced his way deeper, if that was even possible. She shuddered at the sensation of being filled so completely and closed her eyes, her back bowing as he began to mov
e in earnest, his strokes growing faster, harder, stronger…

  “Look into my eyes,” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

  Dazed, she opened her eyes. His face was inches away from hers as he continued to thrust into her, his blue eyes so intense they burned straight to her soul, and she knew in that moment she’d never be the same again.

  He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, his lips next to her, ear and whispered words that were rough, demanding and oh-so-explicit.

  Come for me.

  She was already there, her orgasm slamming into her with the same amount of force he was. She cried his name over and over as her entire body convulsed around him, beneath him, giving him the same pleasure he was sure to see in her eyes. He was in tune with her, stiffening at the height of her climax, his head thrown back and a low, guttural groan ripping from his throat.

  Long minutes later, he released her legs from their awkward position, but didn’t move off her, and amazingly, she could still feel him pulsing inside her. He stared down at her, his features harsh despite the recent release that should have eased the tension thrumming through him.

  “I’ll get you back to L.A. After that you call the shots. I’ll abide by whatever decision you make.”

  She’d craved the closeness, the physical intimacy, the emotional connection that only he seemed able to give her. And it had all been there in varying degrees, stunning in its intensity.

  “Are you sure you can do that?”

  He closed his eyes. “For you, Rio, I can try. I’ve done some thinking and you were right. It is about control. I don’t trust anyone to do the job I can do. I don’t put faith in other people.”

  “Will you let me explain?”

  He settled them in a more comfortable position, wrapping his arms around her.

  “If it will make you feel better.”

  “It will.”

  “Shoot.”

  “My brother, Shane, died during a mission with the DEA. Fuentes killed him. The reason I accepted this job to distract you is because the DEA has an agent undercover right now working to topple Fuentes. I had to help. I couldn’t bear it if I was the cause of another agent dying at Fuentes’s hands. Do you understand?”