Resurgent

by Brynley Blake

  “Relax. It was just room service.” I lay the knife back on the table.

  “At ten o’clock?”

  “I promised to feed you chocolate cake and expensive champagne,” I say, holding up the silver ice bucket and plastic-wrapped plate. I squint at the label. “Although I’m pretty sure this is tequila.”

  “Really?” Her pleased smile is infectious, and I can’t help but smile back. Somehow, despite the crazy circumstances and the shit I’m facing, I’ve never had more fun, or enjoyed a woman’s company more. Placing both the tequila and cake within easy reach of the hot tub, I climb back into the steaming water. I pull the bottle from the bucket of ice and pour two glasses. “I like you, Charlotte Windsor. Even though I have no idea what my future holds, and I might be in jail for the rest of my life, there’s nowhere I’d rather be tonight than with you.” I hand her one glass and hold up the other. “When in Rome, or Mexico as the case may be…” I shrug. “Maybe tequila’s the new champagne.”

  She smiles and clinks her glass to mine, before downing the contents. “I’ll have another.”

  While I pour, I see her gaze fall on the knife, and I wonder what’s going through that pretty head of hers. Her expressive eyes hide very little, and in the course of a minute, I see fear, hopelessness, sadness, and then fierce determination flash in them as she seems to come to some sort of monumental decision.

  She takes the glass from me, drains it, and sets it on the wooden edge of the hot tub with a soft thud. “Is there any lime?”

  I hand her a wedge. She takes it and, maintaining eye contact, brings it to her lips and sucks on it sensually. “Just making sure it’s worth the squeeze,” she says, her voice laced with innuendo.

  My cock twitches. Hell, it more than twitches. It fucking tries to leap out of my pants. “You may want to slow down on the tequila, sweetheart.”

  “Why? I’m just having a little fun.” She bats her long eyelashes at me innocently, throwing my words back at me, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Touché.”

  “Besides, a guy I know once said it’s always a good time to get drunk. Tonight, it seems especially appropriate. I’ve been kidnapped at knifepoint and, thanks to you, escaped from the most notorious drug cartel. You’ve been dead for the last three months and have the government of one country and a drug kingpin from another after you. If ever anyone deserved to get drunk, it’s us tonight.”

  I grin at her. She has a point. “Miss Always-in-Control wants to lose it a little?”

  There’s the devil in her smile as she looks me straight in the eye and says, “Never underestimate the power of fuck it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Charlotte

  I throw back the shot of tequila, savoring the contrast of the cool liquor with the slight burn it makes as it slides down my throat. Although I’d felt more like myself after a hot shower, and even better after walking on the beach with Liam, the soothing steamy bubbles of the hot tub have eased the last traces of my stress, leaving me boneless and almost carefree, a feeling I’m not used to under the best of circumstances. Ironic, I know. Although the tequila might be helping too.

  My gaze falls on the knife that Liam set down on the small wooden table, bringing me back to reality. God sure does have a sense of humor. The cautious girl—the one who planned for every possible scenario to keep everything in her life under control—is stuck in the middle of the jungle in another country without a passport, money, sunscreen, or many clothes. Things couldn’t be more out of control! I’m being hunted by the most powerful and brutal drug cartel in said country, possibly the world, while helping the guy who screwed them over. There’s two of us against hundreds of them. It’s only a matter of time before they catch up with us. And when they realize we don’t have either the guns or the money…

  Slowly, realization dawns. My epiphany at the hacienda came too late. Thanks to Liam, I got out of there alive, but I’m still going to die. There’s no time left for the life I planned in that dark moment, locked in a room by the cartel. There’ll be no chance to do all those things now. All I have is the present. I look at Liam—looking dangerous and oh-so-sexy as he pours me another shot of tequila. I can’t bungee jump or go to Italy, but I sure as hell can have the best sex of my life—again—before it’s over.

  If I only have a few weeks left to live, I’m going to make them count. If I’m going out, I’m going out in style. Starting with Liam…

  He’s fun and funny. Easygoing and easy to be with. Sexy and sensual. Dominating and dominant in a way that makes me feel small and safe. I certainly wouldn’t want that long-term. But what the hell! For the next few hours, days, or weeks—whatever time we have left—I’m going to enjoy every damn minute of it. I want to grab it all while I have the chance.

  The hard part is going to be convincing him. Sure he’s flirted with me, and there was that amazing kiss on the beach…well, amazing to me. He’d just been playing a role.

  I’m a realist; I know I’m not Liam’s type. I’m too uptight, too restrained. But he was interested that weekend in Playa. When I let loose and didn’t second-guess everything or try to plan it all out—that’s when I got Liam. If I did it once, I can do it again. I just need a few more shots of tequila…

  Unencumbered by my usual reserve, I find myself flirting with him easily. And my God but it’s gratifying to see him squirm a little. When I take the lime from him and suck on it erotically, his eyes darken the way I remember that night in Playa. Maybe it will be fun to mess with him a little, give him back a little of his own, since he doesn’t remember any of that weekend. When I suggest we get drunk, he says, “Miss Always-in-Control wants to lose it a little?”

  Hell yes, I do! I look him straight in the eye and throw his motto right back at him. It’s mine now. “Never underestimate the power of fuck it.”

  After we’ve both taken another shot of tequila, I say, “You promised to feed me chocolate cake.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  I look up at him from beneath my lashes in a way that I hope is seductive. “Is that so?”

  He takes another sip of tequila, never taking his eyes from me. “Absolutely.” He removes the plastic from the plate and breaks off a small piece of cake, holding it up to my lips.

  I open my mouth, and he gently places the cake on my tongue. It’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever tasted—the sweet, creamy frosting the perfect balance to the rich, moist cake. I close my eyes and moan softly, savoring the decadent flavor of dark chocolate.

  “Keep your eyes closed.” Liam’s voice is low.

  Obeying, I keep them closed, opening my mouth for more. He puts another bite of cake in my mouth, and I close my lips over his fingers, sucking them sensually as I take the cake. This time, he’s the one groaning with pleasure, and the sound sends warmth shooting straight to my sex.

  I open my mouth again, but this time he places the glass to my lips and tips it, giving me a sip of the chilled tequila. I swallow, then lick my lips, waiting for another bite of cake. The seconds tick by and I shift uncomfortably. What is he doing? Despite my newfound streak of abandon, at heart I’m still a control freak, and I feel a little unnerved not knowing what’s going on in that diabolical brain of his.

  “Liam, I—” My eyes fly open as I move forward and collide with the piece of cake that was hovering near my mouth, the frosting smearing on my chin.

  He tsks, his dark chuckle throaty. “You can’t give up an ounce of control even for a second, can you?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Then keep your eyes closed. No matter what.” There’s that sexy hint of authority in his voice again, and my stomach tightens in response. My eyes flutter shut as I silently count to ten, willing myself not to move.

  His mouth on my chin is warm, his lips soft as he half kisses, half licks the frosting from my skin. He dabs more chocolate on my cheek, and again, his mouth follows. There’s a delicious heat uncurling in my belly, and it has nothing
to do with the alcohol.

  “Closed!”

  I squeeze my eyes more tightly shut. “No problem.” It takes everything in me to sound nonchalant. This time the frosting lands on my neck, and a little shudder of pleasure dances up my spine as his mouth presses against my neck. He keeps his mouth there longer than necessary, sucking lightly, and I fight to stay still.

  He smears more frosting over the top swell of my breast exposed by my bikini top, and I inhale as he swirls his tongue languidly over the sensitive skin. Just as I start to relax into the sensation, he nips lightly. I squeal.

  “Mmmmm.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “I want to hear that again.”

  His mouth descends on my other breast and I unwittingly arch up to him. He growls in response and sinks his teeth into me. My eyes fly open in surprise. His are so close, I can see the rim of darker blue around his iris. The corners are crinkled and there’s the hint of a smile on his lips. “Do I need to blindfold you?”

  “That sounds…interesting,” I manage to say.

  “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t last a minute.”

  I’m about to protest, to dare him to do it, but before I can say anything, he clears his throat and moves away from me. “We should cool off,” he says matter-of-factly. “You’re sticky. Hold still.”

  He splashes warm water over my already heated skin. No! I want to stomp my foot with frustration. Just when things were starting to get good! He obviously still thinks I’m not capable of letting go, of being the kind of girl he likes. Well, he thought wrong!

  Emboldened by the tequila and the recklessness that comes from knowing I have nothing to lose, I stand up and step out of the hot tub. “You’re right. We should definitely cool off.” I walk over to the plunge pool, then turn back to look at him. He’s still sitting in the hot tub, watching me with hooded eyes, arms outstretched on either side. “You going to join me?”

  He stands up, the water streaming in rivulets from his Adonis-like body, then walks over to where I’m standing near the edge of the pool.

  I run my fingers lightly over his chest. It’s smooth, with just a smattering of coarse blond hair. I circle his nipples, smiling as he breathes deeply through his nostrils. We’re close enough now that I can feel his breath and see his pupils dilate as his gaze drops, raking over me. I trail my fingers lower, skimming the waistband of his shorts. “Your turn. Close your eyes.”

  He does as I say, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Emboldened by a heady sense of power, and loving the effect my touch seems to have on him, I run my fingertips lightly down his side and over his stomach. Those beautiful abs tighten in response, and I swear I can see his cock twitch. Oh yeah, it’s good to have the upper hand with Liam Prescott.

  I lean in to kiss him, but at the last minute, a little streak of the devil gets into me and instead, with my hand flat on his chest, I push him backward into the pool. He surfaces a minute later, slicking back his hair with the palm of his hand. There’s a grin on his face as he beckons me to join him.

  Feeling bold and powerful, I dive into the water.

  “What was that for?” he says when I surface next to him.

  “Payback is hell. You going to tame me?”

  “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tempt me.” It comes out as a growl, and my stomach drops to my toes. I hesitate, wondering if I have the nerve to go through with this.

  I reach behind me and untie my bikini top, letting it float away. Liam’s smile has faded, and there’s heat in his eyes as he watches me. Slipping my thumbs into the sides of my bikini bottom, I take a deep breath and shimmy out of them, never taking my eyes off Liam.

  There’s no turning back now. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine. He gives me exactly what I’d hoped for, meeting the passion that’s been simmering in me all day with a brutal ferocity of his own. Our mouths fuse together wildly—teeth nipping, tongues tangling and exploring like we’ve been starving. I suck his tongue into my mouth and he groans, then pulls away, his hands on my shoulders.

  “Damn Charlotte. What game are you playing?”

  “No game. I’ve changed my mind.”

  “About?”

  “The no-strings-attached, best-sex-of-my-life offer.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “A little. But not too drunk to know what I want. I want you. I want this.” I put my hand over the bulge in his swimsuit and it pulses. His cock is rock hard. “Tame me,” I whisper. “If you can.”

  He rakes his fingers through his damp hair, his face tortured. “Fuck. There is nothing I want more right now. But I can’t give you anything more than this. I’m on borrowed time. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Or the day after that.”

  “I know. Me neither. That’s exactly why I want this. Need it! We’re both on borrowed time. I want to feel alive. Besides, I told you…I don’t believe in relationships. I don’t want anything more than this. But we’re here in paradise tonight. I want to lose control,” I whisper.

  He stares intently at me, obviously torn between taking what I’m offering and worrying about hurting me. Just my luck that the world’s biggest playboy decides to have an attack of scruples now.

  I turn away from him slightly. “But I understand if you’re scared you won’t measure up after all that talk. The bar is pretty high.”

  “You are a brat.” With a throaty growl, his lips are on mine again, his strong hands cupping my buttocks as he lifts me up against him so I can wrap my legs around his waist. I kiss him back, hard. The rough edge of the small pool against my back catches me by surprise. With his body holding me pinned against the wall, he cups my breast with his hand, brushing one callused thumb across the nipple. My breasts feel tight and heavy, and when he takes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinches it, I groan for more.

  “God, I’ve been dreaming of this. Of making you squirm with need. Of seeing that look in your eyes.”

  He lowers his head and laves my aching nipple with his tongue, flicking it until my back bows and my head lolls back in pleasure, caught up in the sensation. His lips close around the engorged tip, and he alternately sucks and swirls it with his tongue until my ass is wiggling against the smooth tile of the wall, my sex grinding against his hard length. With his fingers tugging on one nipple, his teeth lightly clamp over the other one and I inhale sharply. Wondering if he’ll remember. Wondering if I want him to, or if it’s better to just live in the moment and have the chance to experience it all again.

  He lets go long enough to say, “Shh. Don’t move,” before taking it between his teeth again.

  I try not to—I really do. But after a few seconds, I’m certain I can’t take it anymore. The anticipation is killing me. I try to squirm away, but his body is pressing me harder against the wall.

  “Liam, I—” I squeal as he bites down harder. My clit is throbbing with need.

  I can feel his lips curve into a smile against my breast. “Fuck, that is becoming my favorite sound in the world.” He releases me, his gaze hot as he looks down at me. His fingers skim down my sides.

  In one fluid motion, he lifts me out of the water and sets me on the tiled edge of the pool. With authoritative hands, he opens my knees and steps in between my legs, filling the space and overwhelming me with his nearness. His face is right in front of my sex, and suddenly embarrassed, I try to close my legs. He’s having none of that. He spreads me apart like he owns me, holding my legs open with firm hands as he slowly trails his tongue up the inside of my thigh. It’s pointless to resist, and I don’t want to anyway.

  He kisses his way up my inner thigh, occasionally lightly nipping the tender skin, and I hold my breath as he gets closer and closer to my clit, which feels like it’s going to explode. Then, to my utter frustration, he moves to my other knee and works his way up again, his tongue hot against my cooled skin.

  “Oh God. Please,” I whisper.

  “That’s my girl. Let me hear you beg.”

  I shake my head v
ehemently. I have standards. But he’s placing kisses along the top of my mound now, and I find myself chanting a mantra of pleas in my head. My sex is pulsing and he’s barely touched me. It’s been a long time…six months to be exact, and I curse myself for not finding someone else since then. But everyone would have paled in comparison. He’d irrevocably staked his claim on my body as surely as if he’d branded me.

  I grip his hair with desperate fingers, thrusting my pelvis toward the paradise that I know is his mouth. “Liam…for the love of God. Please.” I glance down to see him grinning up at me, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having. Still holding my gaze, he deliberately places his tongue on my slit and begins to lap slow and easy. The sensation, the view, the buildup—my clit is throbbing. He kicks it up a notch, using the tip of his tongue to tease my clit.

  I’m trying desperately to stay in control but it’s no use. My breath is ragged, my moans getting louder with each flick of his tongue. I feel that familiar tingling between my legs as everything gathers, seeking release. My thighs are quivering, but he holds them open as he tongues me closer and closer to the point of no return. With a loud cry, my back arches and I convulse onto his mouth.

  “That was pretty good,” I say, once I’ve had a chance to catch my breath. “Almost as good as the last guy.”

  “Who says I’m finished?” With his hand on my chest, he pushes me back so I’m lying flat, the tile cold against my back, my bottom at the edge of the pool and my feet dangling in the water. He drags me closer to him as his mouth descends on my sex again.