Fearless Maverick

by Robyn Grady

  Pleasure-filled noises hummed in her throat as he scooped under her behind and the tip of his tongue swirled and flicked. All too soon she was pressing down into the mattress, clutching the sheet, convulsing and flowing while her thighs clamped around his jaw.

  He let her float all the way down before he slid back up and, in the shifting shadows, searched her eyes. They were happy, dreamy, more content than he had hoped. As her arms curved around the pillow beneath her head, with her hair splayed out, a silvery aura framing her glowing face, he knew he’d never know another moment like this, where he felt as if he’d seen and felt everything and yet still had so much to learn.

  Libby slowly opened her eyes and put out her arms as the length of Alex’s hard body joined with hers. Her mind was still spinning with tingling stars when he nudged inside. The pressure felt entirely natural and yet magical, like a king tide growing beneath a full moon, swelling so quickly, those stars were already building again. She arched up to meet him and, groaning against her lips, he thrust in deeply and all at once.

  He hit a spot so high, so hot, she gripped his shoulders and gasped.

  Pulling away, he combed the hair from her cheek and, concerned, searched her eyes. ‘Libby, are you all right?’

  Recovering, ready for more, she eased out a breath and nodded as her palms ran down his slick sides. ‘Way better than all right.’

  His smile came slowly. Then he filled her again. She felt his lidded eyes on her as the heat increased and the burn at her core condensed. When she didn’t think the friction he’d built could spark any brighter, his movements came faster, he drove in harder and a moan escaped her throat. She’d given herself over totally to this delicious sizzling sensation … the intense force boiling through her blood.

  When the pressure seemed too much, when she was on the scorching cusp again—

  He dropped his head into her hair and, inhaling the floral scent, let the tide rise to an unprecedented high. He murmured her name, drove in to the hilt and held himself there, deep inside, while she moved and clutched around him. He didn’t want the feeling to end, never wanted to let her go. The force was so great. The pleasure too extreme.

  At the instant his orgasm imploded, Alex arced his neck back and gave into the shuddering release that rocked every cell in his body. The climax throbbed again and again, and all the while a chorus hummed through his head and his heart.

  I’m one very lucky man …

  Gazing through her bedroom window, Libby watched the glittering stars, listened to the rolling surf and cuddled up against her scrumptious man. After making love again she felt both exhausted and raised up. Her every surface buzzed from his attentions. Her mouth and breasts burned from the graze of his stubble. She’d never been more sated. Never wanted to know anything again so much.

  Alex Wolfe was more than she could ever have imagined.

  His deep voice rumbled out from the shadows.

  ‘You sleepy?’

  ‘No.’ She snuggled in closer. ‘You?’

  Rolling to face her, he drew a tender line around her cheek. ‘Wide awake.’

  Libby blew out a quiet contented breath. Was it imagination or did he feel as blissful lying here as she did? Amazing, given she’d had little to no confidence these past few years as far as intimacy with a man was concerned. This was the first time she’d made love since before her accident but, with his help, she’d overcome her nerves. In fact, she felt more whole and desirable than she ever had.

  For long peaceful moments, she lay there, absorbing the way he watched his fingers toy with her hair, sweeping back strands, curling a section behind her ear.

  ‘I bet you looked unbelievable on a board,’ he said.

  She held her breath but the regret she sometimes felt when she recalled that lost part of her life didn’t surface. Rather, this time when she thought back, she was filled with nothing but a sense of happy nostalgia.

  ‘It came naturally,’ she said. ‘My gran said I could swim before I could walk.’

  ‘Guess our talents come out early. I rode a push-bike at a little over two. Was doing stunts and mad stuff when I was six.’ He touched his nose. ‘Almost lost this when I came off shooting down a hill at warp speed.’

  Imagining the blood, she flinched. ‘Your mother must’ve been beside herself.’

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. ‘My mother died before my second birthday. Drug overdose.’

  Libby’s heart sunk. She couldn’t imagine it. She’d known his childhood had been tough but to have lost a mother as well, and in such circumstances …’You wouldn’t remember anything about her, then.’

  From the wooden look on his face, she thought he might simply close the subject. He often looked so troubled when talk turned to his past. But then he tugged his ear and even found a lopsided smile.

  ‘Apparently Amber, my mother, was a bit of a party girl but not much good at bath times or changing nappies. Still, from what I was told she loved her children. There are snaps of her dressing us up for games, taking us to the beach to build massive sandcastles. William even came along a couple of times. In their own unhealthy way, I think my parents might have been happy. Amber seemed to bring out the best, as well as the worst, in him. A lot of people did.’

  He dropped his gaze but not before she glimpsed the pain and regret lurking in the shadows of his eyes. Clearly he hadn’t meant to go that deeply into it. Given just how dark his past was, she more than respected that. She wished she could go back in time and protect the innocent little boy Alex once had been. Since she couldn’t, perhaps shedding a bit more light on her own yesterdays might help.

  ‘I was surfing up in North Queensland on holiday with a friend when my accident happened,’ she began. ‘It was my fault. I should have been more careful.’

  Focused again, he pushed up on one elbow. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Firstly, I should’ve waited for my friend before I plunged in. There was nobody else around. Number one rule broken.’

  ‘If you get in trouble there’s no one to help.’

  She nodded. ‘An onshore breeze was forecast. They turn a good swell to mush. But that morning when I first ran in, the waves were pumping.’

  A shiver chased over her skin and she shrugged. ‘I didn’t realise there was coral nearby. After twenty minutes or so, I did see the fin, however. That’s when I decided to double time it back in.’

  He held her hand and squeezed. ‘A shark.’

  ‘I found out later it’d been cruising the bay for weeks. Should have done my homework. I caught a last wave in but it closed down.’ She explained, ‘The wave broke along its entire length all at once. When I wiped out, I felt a stab on my calf—the coral—and came up disorientated. I’m grateful I didn’t see the fin a second time. Just felt the tug.’

  His face pinched, Alex swore under his breath and squeezed her hand again.

  ‘My buddy had arrived in time to see my spill.’ She smiled, remembering how brave Barb had been. ‘I’ve never been able to thank her enough for swimming out and saving me. She did what she could using regular first aid know-how, but we were miles from civilisation, surrounded by sand and palm trees. She sent out an SOS on her phone. A rescue boat patrolling close by picked us up. At first the doctors thought they could save my lower limb but an infection set in and, well … that was that.’

  He blew out a long breath. ‘My shoulder injury seems pathetic compared to what you’ve gone through.’

  ‘It was hard at first.’ She thought more. ‘Confusing, really. But I was walking six months later. These days, people who don’t know about the accident can’t tell.’

  ‘How do you feel when you go into the water now?’

  She tugged the blanket up around her neck. ‘I haven’t been in since.’

  ‘There must be a part of you that wants to?’

  Her stomach muscles knotted. Odd. She could recall that day, her injury and recuperation, and be as close to okay with it as a person could be. But the thought
of going back in the water …

  Shuddering, she drew the blanket higher still.

  She didn’t want to push herself that far. She simply wouldn’t feel safe. But fearless Alex Wolfe didn’t need to know that. Tonight she didn’t want a pity party, then a pep talk.

  ‘One day I might,’ she said lightly, then added more truthfully, ‘I bought an apartment on the esplanade so I’d be close to the sound and smell of the ocean. Hasn’t enticed me yet.’

  He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her inside wrist. ‘You must have had good people there for you afterward.’

  ‘Unfortunately one of them wasn’t my boyfriend.’ When Alex’s brows jumped, she qualified, ‘Fiancé actually. We’d planned to be married.’

  A growl rumbled in his throat. ‘Please don’t tell me he dumped you because of the accident.’

  ‘Scott was a surfing pro with titles like me. We both lived for the water. At the time it seemed we lived for each other. We surfed the world’s hot spots together. We were both totally dedicated to our sport. But after my accident, things changed. I changed. Scott didn’t have too deep of an insight into how my injury had affected me … affected every aspect of my life. Truth was he wasn’t much interested in spending the time or the effort to try to understand. Seemed if we couldn’t surf together,’ she explained, ‘we had absolutely nothing in common.’

  She cast her mind back and felt that same twinge of regret and awareness she’d acknowledged back then.

  ‘Scott came to see me less and less often,’ she went on. ‘When he did visit, we had little to say. Our relationship had been that superficial—more about how I looked hanging off his arm at events than anything.’

  She didn’t add that he’d never touched her again after her injury, although from Alex’s keen expression she wondered if he’d guessed.

  Alex’s voice resonated in the semi-darkness. ‘So he broke it off.’

  ‘I did. When I realised how separate we felt without the ocean bringing us together, seemed there was only one choice.’

  Alex grunted. ‘I hope he and his surfboard are happy together.’

  She gave a wry grin. ‘I’m sure they are. And I’m not bitter about that. I had friends who were fabulous through the whole thing. My parents, and Gran, of course … even when I was being a pain and down on myself,’ she admitted.

  When he brought her close and grazed his lips over her crown, she closed her eyes and absorbed his masculine smell as well as his strength.

  ‘You’re being too hard on yourself,’ he murmured.

  She didn’t bother saying she knew that she wasn’t. But she’d survived—and flourished, in some ways, at least. Tonight with Alex had helped even more.

  ‘I needed something else I could put my heart and soul into,’ she said. ‘Turned out to be something that I ended up believing in a thousand times more than collecting sports awards.’

  ‘Helping others recover from their injuries. And you’re wonderful at it.’

  Her heart swelled. ‘You really think so?’

  ‘I know I’ve given you a rough time but I appreciate everything you’ve done. In fact, I think I’m in need of a little therapy right now.’

  Alarmed, she studied his eyes for signs of physical pain. They had been pretty energetic beneath the sheets. ‘Is your shoulder hurting?’

  ‘Higher. A little ache—’ he tapped his lips ‘—right here.’

  Relaxing, she laughed. ‘I can fix that.’ She came forward and her kiss skimmed his bristled jaw. ‘How does that feel? Or maybe I should try this technique.’ Her tongue slid down to the beating hollow at the base of his throat.

  He rolled her over and murmured against her parted lips, ‘Libby, I’m aching all over.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THAT morning he and Libby ate breakfast at a local Manly café.

  With the waves washing on the beach and traffic, both pedestrian and motor, passing at a leisurely weekend clip, they took an outside table and enjoyed the perfect autumn sunshine while ordering—fruit and toast for the lady, a full breakfast with bacon, eggs, fried mushrooms and tomatoes for him. He’d worked up quite an appetite, Alex realised, setting his napkin on his lap and considering something sweet to finish with … not that he hadn’t enjoyed ‘sweet’ all night long.

  There had been a sour note, however, when Libby had told him about her so-called fiancé. She had to know she was better off without that dolt. What kind of a man would commit himself by giving a beautiful girl a ring and then—

  The fork stopped midway to Alex’s mouth.

  What had happened to Libby’s engagement ring? Was that why she wasn’t into jewellery now? Bad memories of a lying solitaire?

  Alex stabbed more egg on his fork.

  He hoped she’d dropped it in an express post bag and sent it back to that son of a—

  ‘Do you eat like that every morning?’

  Snapping back, Alex assembled a smile. ‘Today I was famished.’ Before he brought the fork to his mouth again, he added, ‘That’s your fault.’

  ‘We didn’t get much sleep,’ she admitted beneath lowered lashes as he chewed and set his cutlery aside.

  ‘Sleep’s overrated.’

  ‘Why sleep when you can race, right?’ She slanted her head and a waterfall of silvery blond cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned back. ‘How did it all start? You mentioned taking your father’s cars out and earning yourself a reputation.’

  Needing time, Alex patted his mouth with the napkin. The subject of his father could get tricky. Plainly put, he didn’t like to discuss it. The topic caused his insides to crawl and made him ashamed that his last name was Wolfe. Still, if Libby had the courage to open up and come clean about her slug of an ex …

  Alex cleared his throat and sat back.

  Guess he could share a little more.

  ‘The first time I took off,’ he began, ‘I wasn’t quite fourteen. My father …’ Alex’s throat tightened and he grunted, remembering too well. ‘William was being his usual obnoxious self. I needed to escape so I lifted his favourite sports car and tore off. That’s the moment I knew what I wanted to do. How I wanted to live. I felt at home with the top down, the wind on my face, racing away as fast as four wheels could take me.’

  Like it was yesterday, he recalled the thrill of that first time pitting himself against the curves and dips in the road, against the bona fide danger of excess speed. It never got old.

  ‘And your father never caught you?’

  Before he could contain it, Alex flinched. In time he hid the subsequent shudder. No wonder he’d rather not speak of those days. Preferred never to think of them, full stop.

  Reaching for his juice, he resumed his more casual mask. ‘Eventually he caught me. By that time, sneaking out with one of his cars had got to be addictive … a regular event. He used to spot a scratch or dent now and then.’

  The beatings that followed had been worth every minute he’d got to spend behind the wheel.

  Libby’s glistening eyes said she didn’t know whether to be amused or shocked. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t kill yourself. Or someone else.’

  Of course she was right. Thank God he’d hooked up with someone who had taught him early about respect—for himself, for cars, as well for others on the road.

  ‘If it’s any compensation, my joyrides got me expelled at the end of summer term ‘91.’

  Her face fell. ‘Oh, Alex …’

  ‘They also got me noticed by a gang who loved fast cars as much as I did.’ He smiled. Good times. ‘I bought myself a souped-up dirt bike and competed with the other guys in weekend meets. That’s where I got a taste for winning. We had our own races organised in the back streets on quiet weekends.’

  Her smile was wry. ‘Sounds like a wild crowd.’

  ‘There were some parties,’ he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. Given that last one … He set down his glass and pinned back his shoulders. ‘Probably too many parties.’

  But
that was a whole other story and one he refused to broach with Libby now. With anyone any time.

  A touch on his arm had him glancing up to find her worried gaze.

  ‘Alex … you okay?’

  He shook off the image of Annabelle after that night and pasted on a smile. ‘Fine. I’m fine.’

  ‘Did you ever get in trouble with the law?’ she asked.

  ‘There was one night,’ he said carefully. ‘A police man took pity on me. Said he’d look the other way if I put my so-called talent to good use rather than playing the lunatic. He gave me the name of a racing buddy of his. A mechanic in Oxfordshire.’

  Elbow on the table, she set her cheek in the bed of her hand. ‘And he took you under his wing?’

  That’s when life took its first good turn.

  ‘Carter White became my coach in life as well as on the track.’ Alex’s chest grew warm the way it did whenever he thought of the difference that one man had made. ‘When I first went to his shop, I wanted to jump in the first car I could and tear up the road. But Carter taught me to value my skill and the vehicles I drove. He also made me promise to catch up on classes I’d missed after I was expelled for truancy.’

  ‘I thought you said you were expelled because of joyriding.’

  His grin was lopsided. ‘That too.’

  She coughed out a laugh. ‘Did this Carter White own a bag of fairy dust? How did he manage to turn such a wayward kid around?’

  ‘With a chronically slow and steady approach.’ Much like the technique Libby used on his shoulder, come to think of it. ‘He had me work on cars and motorbikes for months before he let me drive or ride. At first I thought he was doing it simply to annoy me, but it didn’t take long before I learned a deep appreciation for the way engines worked, the way bodies were put together. I learned to admire their beauty and power. After five years as a team, I thanked him and took off to pursue the bright lights.’

  ‘Just like that?’