by Joanne Rock
“It’s about Nick Castine.” He barreled ahead with the mission at hand, unwilling to sit idle in a boat taking on water. He’d tell her what he came here for and that would alter her mood in a hurry. “I have reason to believe he’s involved in illegal activities.”
Her head came up then. No more coy looks. Nick’s shady connections were no big secret to anyone from around here. If she was on the take, he’d just alerted her to their investigation. But if she was a naive tourist to the island, then he was saving her from a hell too horrible to contemplate. He couldn’t risk letting her fall into that if there was the least chance she was innocent.
“Other than the occasional ill-advised bar grope?”
A breeze filtered through the open French doors, lifting the hem of her cover-up a fraction of a degree and stirring some kind of tropical scent. Whether it was flowers or perfume, he couldn’t say. He could say her thighs would tempt a saint.
“Well beyond.” He forced his gaze back to hers. “I can’t go into detail since I’m privy to sensitive military intelligence and we have a good inside track on local bad guys. But I thought you should know in case you were able to rearrange your travel plans. I’d advise switching hotels.”
Her jaw dropped for a moment, and he could tell he’d frightened her—a condition he simultaneously regretted and celebrated. The sooner she got out of Aquadilla, the better.
“Are we talking violent crime?” Her hand came up to her neck, her fingers gently tugging at the deep vee of her cover-up.
“It’s my personal experience that violent crime runs hand in hand with the kinds of offenses he may be committing.”
Nodding, she released the neckline of the filmy garment she wore.
“Thank you for the warning. I’ll definitely make a hotel transfer. I need to do some research back in San Juan anyhow.” She bit her lip, her eyes alighting on the laptop near her bed.
“Would you like some help packing?” He looked around the neat hotel room, thinking he could have her transplanted safely to the city before nightfall. He’d be back on base in no time, his Good Samaritan duties fulfilled. His instincts told him she was honest, no matter that her connection to Castine was incriminating. And following his gut had saved his ass plenty of times before, so he tended to trust those instincts now.
“Are you always this controlling?” She tilted her head to one side, as if she couldn’t quite figure him out.
“I don’t call it controlling to look out for someone else’s safety.”
“And I appreciate your coming here to tell me about Nicholas. But now you want to help pack. Yesterday you wanted to do my job for me and prove that no laws govern attraction.” She stepped closer to him. Crowding him. “I’d say that’s a man who needs to be in charge all the time.”
He didn’t move a muscle as she walked her hands up his chest, then smoothed them along his shoulders. Her silky touch distracted him when he should be getting her out of here. He had a mission to lead. A unit waiting for him to fly the next segment of surveillance over the Pacific in search of whatever watercraft Castine was using to transport his cargo this time.
“Some people are predisposed to taking charge.” He looked down at her plump red lips and wondered how much harm it would do to kiss her again. Was she hell-bent on compatibility? Or would she settle for hot sex? Then again, he was feeling damn compatible with her right about now.
“Some people are also predisposed to arrogance.” Shifting her hips, she brushed against his. “And thinking they know what’s best for everyone else.” She insinuated one slender thigh between his legs.
His pulse spiked. And no matter what mission was waiting for him back on base, this mission with her had moved into code-red terrain.
“I bet I know what’s best for you right now.” He quit holding back, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this room without addressing the heat between them. “Too bad I promised not to touch you, or else I’d be giving you exactly that.”
“You see?” She lifted an eyebrow, all feminine wile and sexual challenge. “You’re so convinced you know what I need when you don’t know at all.”
She reached down and tugged the belt of her cover-up out of the loops. Then, dangling the gold braided leather in front of him, she let the weight swing like a pendulum.
“You want something kinky?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine what she hoped to accomplish by presenting him with a leather belt, but he didn’t think he could play S & M games, even for a woman who turned him on as much as Lacey did.
Then again…
“Of course not.” She lowered the belt and lightly rubbed it across his wrist. “I want to show you that you don’t need to be in charge all the time.”
His brain took a minute to catch up with his body since he was already envisioning the things he could do to her with the skinny strap. When he finally processed the comment, he couldn’t resist a laugh.
“You think that’s gonna hold me back?” Need for her fired through him, fierce, hot and fast. “I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. The only thing holding me back from you right now is a promise, and my word has a hell of a lot more power over me than any bond you could ever come up with to hold me down.”
Her lips pulled into a soft frown, a lush pout that tempted him to taste her.
“It’s up to you, Lacey. I can keep my word and leave. Or you can release me from it and I’ll make you too delirious with pleasure to care that I am very much in charge here.”
Chapter 4
“THOSE ARE some high expectations to live up to.” Lacey’s knees had, in fact, turned to Jell-O somewhere in the middle of his taunt as they stood in her hotel room.
Delirious with pleasure?
Sign her on. She’d been totally out of her element when she’d implied she might tie him to the bed, but something about Damon Craig made her at ease. She didn’t just feel excited. She felt safe with him. The man oozed “protector” from every pore. And, yeah, maybe knowing that made her indulge a side of herself she’d been stifling for years.
“Does that mean yes?” His pulse picked up visibly along the thick column of his neck and she wondered what it would feel like to place her lips over that very spot.
“That means you’d better come with a money-back guarantee if you don’t deliver.” Her whole body hummed in anticipation, a warm buzz playing along her skin as she waited for his touch.
He still didn’t move. His chest raised and lowered with the force of deep breaths, but other than that, he waited as if he had all the time in the world.
“Lacey.” His brown eyes narrowed. “Answer the question.”
The tension was almost unbearable. The waiting. The wanting. The knowledge that he would deliver. God, she didn’t doubt it for a second, even though she liked teasing him.
She opened her lips and found her mouth too dry to speak.
Licking her lips and tasting cherry gloss, she tried again.
“Yes. Touch me.”
She expected to be overpowered. Backed into the bed. Stripped in a matter of moments. None of which she would have minded. But he didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, he tunneled under her open cover-up and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her up with muscled ease, sliding her body against his so she got the full impact of how much he wanted her. Only when he had her at eye level, her feet dangling an inch or two above the floor, did he kiss her.
His mouth brushed hers gently at first, his lips soft and warm as he pushed hers apart. Normally she was so wary with men. Normally it took them three dates to score even a kiss. But there was something about Damon that overrode her caution and tapped into a fearsome desire she’d never experienced.
He slipped his tongue inside, lavishing hers with long, aching strokes that awakened her every nerve ending. Her fingers gripped his shirt, tangling in the fabric as she fought to withstand the onslaught of intense physical need. His tongue dueled with hers for supremacy until her belly knotted with tens
ion and the sensations made her ache between her thighs.
Arching against him, she urged him closer, already envisioning what that stroke of his tongue would feel like on her breasts. Beneath her bikini bottom. She squirmed at the thought, ready for more. She’d had all the build-up she could take last evening on the beach. Between that round of foreplay and the sex they’d had in her dreams all night, she was primed for him in no time.
“Damon.” She pulled his shirt up his back, hitching it on her fingernails and dragging it higher. “Please.”
He obliged her by gripping her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist in a delicious reprise of the night before. Maybe he’d been thinking about what they’d done on the beach as much as she had.
The bulge in his trousers pressed hard against her, and she thought she’d go crazy if she didn’t get him more naked soon. With a sweep of her hand, she pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, letting the blue silk float to the floor. She never quit kissing him, but she didn’t have to see him to know she’d just uncovered a primo bod. The way he held her effortlessly proved his strength, honed through military training. And the way the plank of his abs met the ripped muscle of his pecs told her hands all she wanted to know.
“I dreamed about this,” he told her, breaking the kiss to stare at her with eyes turned so dark they were almost black. “All night.”
“Lucky you, at least you got some sleep.” She bent to kiss the indentation centered on his square chin. “I was too keyed up to close my eyes.”
She wondered if she should be more guarded with him, but she didn’t know how. Her emotions were too stirred up, her senses too overloaded for her to practice her usual restraint.
She reached for his belt, but he cupped her jaw, halting her as he tipped her chin up to look at him.
“It’s been a long time for me.” His voice had turned gravel harsh, the sound of a man holding himself back. “This first time might get a little out of control.”
His eyes glittered with the promise of wicked delights. Intense satisfaction.
“Not as long as it’s been for me.” Sex had been scarcely more plentiful than her vacations. “I’m more than ready, I promise.”
She unfastened his belt as she spoke, freeing the buckle and tugging the leather loose until she found the button for his pants.
She never had the chance to undo it.
He spun her around and strode toward the bed, his long legs making quick work of the bedroom floor. Swinging her down to the white coverlet on the mattress, Damon stood over her. She released his hips, her gaze fastened on his bronzed chest in the muted sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains.
He was an incredible-looking man. Imposing in his masculinity. Fierce in his aspect. No angel’s touch of a dimple could detract from the molten fire in his gaze as he unzipped.
Some last strain of cool reason in her head made her reach for the nightstand drawer and pull out the box of condoms she’d bought at the airport. A little vacation wishful thinking.
Stretching out over her, he reached for the box and took the package from her. Every cell inside her responded, his flesh singeing her wherever their bodies met. Their eyes locked for a two-count, whiskey-amber and sea-blue.
The box fell on the bed somewhere beside her ear, but he didn’t open it yet. She couldn’t process any more than that since his mouth landed on her neck, the wet stroke of his tongue up her throat sending her halfway to orgasm without even trying.
A shudder racked her, tension tightening inside while Damon’s chest brushed hers. Hard muscle pressed soft curves, her breasts aching for more. She shifted wordlessly beneath him, arching her back to increase the friction between them. His low growl acknowledged her but he didn’t hurry the slow slide of his tongue south. Impatient, she reached behind her neck to untie the top of her bikini.
Damon felt the straps to Lacey’s bathing suit loosen and knew he’d run out of time. The woman played with fire so relentlessly he had no choice but to follow the glide of nylon down her skin.
She tasted like sunscreen and coconut, her skin glistening with oil and a new tan. Tan lines. The paler skin around her breasts stood out in the dim room, highlighting the taut pink nipples standing at attention.
Heat flooded him, firing his hands with the need to get her naked. The need to be inside her. Capturing one nipple between his teeth, he rolled the crest along his tongue, drawing hard on her. She whimpered her approval, winding her arms around his neck while he yanked off the rest of her bathing suit top.
The fabric disappeared with satisfying swiftness, leaving her clad in a cover-up that didn’t cover much of anything and a bathing suit bottom tied in little bows at her hips. He made quick work of the ties, freeing her from the rest of the dark nylon suit.
Allowing a scant minute to admire the view, he inhaled the fragrance of her. She reached for him, her hands parting the fabric of his boxers before he could get his clothes all the way off.
Didn’t matter. Right now, all he cared about was burying himself inside this woman. Her fingers glided over the tip of him, driving him insane with silky strokes where his flesh burned hot.
He kissed her as he returned to the condom box, needing that connection with her while he delayed the deeper union he craved. She was sweet and responsive as he fumbled with the foil packet. He tore the package with one hand before reaching up to free the protection with the other.
“Let me,” she whispered, scraping away the silky blond curls from her face as she plucked at the condom.
He held it fast.
“I’m in charge, remember? And twenty hours of foreplay is too long.” He worked the condom on with one hand and cupped her mound with the other.
“Then hurry,” she urged, tilting her hips into his. “I need—”
He found the swollen flesh between her legs and stroked, cutting off her plea. She held herself very still as he circled the tight nub at her core. Her breath rasped in his ear, the soft puffs of air heating his cheek.
“I know what you need,” he assured her, feeling the coiled tension inside her. She was so close to the edge, her face frozen in a mask of rapt anticipation. Pleasure.
He’d never met a woman so easy to read. So responsive that every touch felt combustible. Hell, he’d been hovering on the brink of release for hours himself.
“Damon.” She called his name, her eyebrows furrowed. Concentrating. “Damon, please…”
The rush of her orgasm shook her, rocking her whole body in a paroxysm of movement. She arched back, taut as a bow.
A high, keening cry filled the room, the sound of her pleasure piercing his chest and rolling right through him. He didn’t wait another second, plunging into her while the aftershocks rocked her. The lush contractions squeezed him, making him grit his teeth against the lure of her body.
Her fingers flexed around his shoulders, her nails raking his skin in a welcome counterpoint to the tight grip of her feminine muscles all around him. He drove his hips deeper, seating himself all the way inside her before withdrawing just enough to start all over again. The rhythm felt elemental, necessary, as if he’d been waiting for this moment from the second he’d laid eyes on her.
She wrapped her legs around him, her smooth thighs pinning his hips tight. He rolled to his side, giving her more room to maneuver without relinquishing a single inch of the connection binding them together. Her cries had turned to soft moans interspersed with incoherent pleas, a litany of sexy murmurs that made him crazy.
Sweat beaded along his forehead, and his back burned with the effort to forestall the inevitable. He wanted to reach between them and stroke another orgasm from her before he came, but his time was running out fast. Between her nails in his shoulders, her thighs vise-locking him and her throaty demands for more, Damon couldn’t hold back another second.
Heat rushed through him with a primal surge of possessiveness, a wave of release that tossed him around more thoroughly than any rogue ship in rough waters.
He wrapped Lacey close, squeezing her to his chest as the force of his completion shuddered through him.
He might damn well have lost consciousness. He sure as hell couldn’t move, a kind of sex-paralysis leaving his brains scrambled and his chest heaving like a racehorse after a hard run. He waited for some semblance of brain activity to return, watching Lacey’s face.
Beside him on the king-size mattress and swimming in a sea of white linens, she appeared as dazed as him. Her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from his kisses, she looked like a woman who’d just had incredible sex. Her blue eyes held a dreamy, far-off expression that made him wonder what she was thinking about. Was she already counting the ways he’d thrown off her dating profile? Or would she simply accept the joys of a vacation fling with someone wholly inappropriate?
Long moments passed before she finally spoke.
“Damon?”
“Hmm?” His attention snapped back to her face and he realized she’d lost that dreamy look.
“Do you really think I need to change hotels?” Worry crept into her voice.
She was thinking about Castine? The notion stirred an unexpected anger. Aw, hell. Make that jealousy.
He hated the idea of her wasting ten seconds thinking about another guy. Especially a dirtball that Damon knew damn well was running drugs into the States. The same kinds of drugs that had turned Damon’s ex into an addict.
“It pays to be safe when you’re dealing with a criminal.” He untwined himself from her on the rumpled hotel mattress, needing some distance for a conversation that he hoped would be brief.
“Although he’s not a proven felon yet, right?” Straightening, she pulled the sides of her cover-up together, shielding herself with the big white shirt. “Just an alleged criminal?”
“You’re defending this guy?” He blinked his way out of the feel-good endorphin fog to make sense of what she was saying.
“Absolutely not. It’s just demoralizing enough that my compatibility system chose a touch-happy jerk for me. Now I have to accept that the profiling also paired me with someone who might have violent tendencies and no ethics.”
