by Ellen March
She sucked in a shaky breath. “Guess that oedema thing sounds pretty serious.”
“It is, but now you’re over it, and honey, I want to love you.” His lips ripped across her throat, his tongue skating behind. “Each day I held you I had to focus on something else, anything, not to get a hard-on. But believe me, baby, I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
“And before? When we first met?”
“Anna, I so wanted to sink into your sweet pussy, to take you hard. Feel your legs wrapped around my body.” He nuzzled her throat. His tongue flicked out and his teeth grazed her skin. “You really don’t know how much I want to make love to you—not fuck you, make love.”
She shuddered and sucked in a breath. “You do? Is there a difference?”
“Between what?”
“Fucking and making love?” She needed to know, because he was ramping up so many emotions. Savannah was scared, terrified she was falling for him and reading too much into it.
“Yes, Anna, I need you.”
She turned into him, cupping his face, still confused as he’d sidled out of her question. “I haven’t thanked you yet, have I?”
He gave her a gentle kiss. “For what?”
“Saving my life.” She nibbled at his lips before folding her arms around him and holding him close.
“Any time, lady.” He breathed her in as he covered her lips, licking and sucking.
She muttered against his lips, “Is it too early?”
“For what?” His hands slung low around her ample hips, fetching her tight against his shaft that was erect and pulsing.
“Sex?”
“Thank Christ for that, and no, honey, because you’ve got three days of dried-out male need to satisfy.”
She raised her brow. “Dried-out?”
“As in not come, not even a hand job, baby. I’ve gone dry for you.”
She stared up at him in shock. “Is that a record?”
“Hell, honey, that’s a first.”
“Then maybe I’m getting to you,” she muttered, nuzzling his cheek.
He frowned. “Maybe you’re right.”
Chapter Fifteen
Savannah lay across Micah. He was sleeping and she was leching.
God, she thought, he is such a sexy bastard. He’d more than made up for the enforced celibacy. He’d made love to her over and over. She didn’t think a man could keep it up for so long.
But her Micah could.
She rubbed her cheek rapturously against his hard chest—she loved how he made her feel. But then another emotion followed unexpectedly. Savannah realized that she loved him. Now she shivered with anxiety and even fear. He didn’t love her back.
How could he fall for her? She was an easy screw, a pathetic, needy woman.
And he was available.
Oh so available. She tracked one nail across his lips. Even sleeping, he was beautiful. He had no flaws that she could see, just stunning muscles, smooth, tanned skin, and long, powerful limbs. And oh boy, could she glory in those.
He snagged her with a sleepy, sexy gaze. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi you.” She dropped a kiss on his chest. “Have I worn you out?” She gave a yip as she was flipped onto her back.
He grinned, looking down at her. “Are you for real?”
She snatched her arms around his neck. “Good, I’m glad you’re up. How about a bit of a wakeup call?”
His lips touched hers, soft and yearning, gradually pushing into a deeper kiss. His tongue slid inside, twirling with hers. His hand kneaded her breast, his fingers flicking over her nipples.
“Oh yes,” she whispered and arched into his fingers. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing.”
“You’re a greedy bitch, you know that?”
Savannah burst out laughing. “Of course. With you I can’t help it.”
Micah growled in her ear, “And it better be only me.” Dropping his head, he sealed his lips over her nipple and sucked hard. Hearing her groan, he hardened even more.
“I can’t believe I had three days of abstinence,” he muttered against her skin.
“Of what?”
“Going without sex,” he explained.
“Didn’t you make up for it last night?”
“Nope. That was a qualifier.”
His fingers circled and rolled across her fanny, and her breath hitched. “God, that feels so good.” She canted into his hand. “Micah, leave the foreplay. I need you inside me … now.”
“For once, baby, I’m with you on that.” He covered her, his eyes locked with hers, and thrust forward. Micah surged deep inside, primed and ready. Her welcoming moist heat was holding him, drawing him in. Her sex clenched around him, and he tried to take his time but couldn’t. He began to power into her, driving with a heady need. He plunged and dipped. Wrapping his erection with her sex, he was already teetering on the edge. Dropping his head, he sucked at her throat.
“Oh Christ, Micah,” she gasped, “that’s so, it’s so … shit, it’s so … oh my …” and rocked with a sense of urgency, hard against him.
“Come for me, honey,” he whispered, his tongue delving inside her ear. His ass muscles clenched as he exploded deep within her womb. Over and over he thundered against her. “Oh shit!” Micah continued to writhe, to fetch her with him, to give her the orgasm she was chasing.
“Micah, don’t stop. Please don’t … oh shit!” she howled, her head thrown back. He was a one-man carnival ride. “Oh Jesus Christ, what are you doing?”
He nipped her throat, leaning over her. “Making out with you, baby.”
“Micah, you’re doing a damn sight more than that.” She welcomed each lusty thrust.
“I aim to please, honey.”
“As long as it’s only me,” she gasped. Whimpering and taut as the strings of a bow, she exploded in a wave of pure bliss.
“It is, baby, it truly is,” breathed Micah against her neck.
***
Savannah sat at the table, her gaze hooked on Micah. She’d been watching the interaction between him and Charu.
And she didn’t like what she was hearing.
In particular, Charu’s reply to his question about her godmother’s demise. “Kitty died in a car accident. A hit-and-run, and we never did discover the driver.” Charu turned to the two of them. “Coffee, anyone?” Her blood-red lips made her smile appear vaguely ghoulish.
“Really?” Micah’s brow kinked. He didn’t like the way this sounded—not at all.
Savannah couldn’t get over Charu’s casual air. She might have been discussing the gentle death in her sleep of a ninety-nine year old grandmother.
“Didn’t it upset you? Weren’t you close to her?” Savannah asked, full of curiosity about her benefactor. She still couldn’t understand why Kitty had never contacted her, or why her parents had never mentioned her. And now, it seemed, she’d never know. Although what the solicitor had said made sense—that they’d moved around so much, it was virtually impossible to track them down.
Even in her bedroom, she’d found no indication of the type of woman she’d been. It was almost as if she’d never existed. Only that single photo remained. Savannah was still determined to find a sign; everyone left some footprints. It was sad and haunting, and an odd pain hurt her chest thinking of Kitty—a woman who had lived and died alone. It didn’t seem right.
Charu shook her head. “Of course it upset me. I worked with her for a number of years.” She held her cup in a pincer grip, her bright red nails vivid against the stark white of the china.
“What was she like?” asked Savannah, rising at the ping of the toaster. It was followed by the acrid scent of burnt toast. The yellow smear of butter slithered over the charred black. She handed one to Micah. Her gaze brooked no refusal.
He hesitated for a second, then took it, his thoughts on who would want Savannah dead. He knew he wouldn’t be leaving until he found out. Then followed the thought: Can you ever walk away from this scruffy wild-woman?
He glanced across at her and tried not to grin.
She was leaning against the worktop, her hair pulled back. The dress she wore hid her curves. In fact, it was just one vast sheet of plain material that stopped mid-calf, resembling a shroud.
At her impish wink and cheeky smile, his erection lurched to attention. Seeing the warmth that radiated from her, Micah knew he couldn’t leave her. Somehow she’d crept beneath his protective barrier and had come to mean a lot to him.
Too much.
His problem, and it was one hell of a one, was explaining who he was. He knew he’d have to be careful because she was so volatile she’d be ready to castrate him.
Charu looked across at Savannah but didn’t bother hiding her scorn. “Not much to say about her. She was a bit scatty, eccentric. She stayed locked up in her room a lot.”
“So where was she when she was run over? How come she left?”
“On the road that leads to the house. I found her. As to what she was doing out there, that answer died with her.” Charu rose. “I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She turned away, dragging in a sniff for effect. Then gave Micah a shaky smile. She hadn’t given up on him. Once Savannah was out of the way she’d be available to console him.
***
The night was dark and moonless, only lit by twinkling stars. Micah was restless. He didn’t want Savannah downstairs. Realistically, he knew he couldn’t stop her. Yet he still fretted over the near-drowning incident. And he was determined she wouldn’t leave his sight.
He studied her as she fussed with her hair, totally oblivious to him, then tugged and fidgeted with her black dress. He’d noticed she didn’t own many clothes or wear any jewellery.
Finally she turned to him. “Well, how do I look?” Before he could open his mouth, she added, “Don’t answer that.” She was still for a moment as she concentrated on the way his muscles rippled beneath the shirt as he shrugged into his jacket.
“Don’t you wear any jewellery?” Micah asked.
“Nope, don’t own any.”
“What, none at all?” He’d never known a woman to not own a single piece.
“Nothing apart from my mother’s wedding ring. Can’t afford it.”
He felt an acute rush of anger. Anger that she’d had such a hard life. He was determined that once he’d come clean and told her who he was, she’d have lots. It didn’t escape him that his thoughts appeared to be going long term.
With a final smoothing of her dress, she turned to him. “Right. I guess we’d better go down and circulate.”
Micah nodded. Holding the door open, he reached out and gripped her arm.
She looked up, questioning.
“I don’t want you out of my sight tonight.”
She cupped his cheek. “Don’t you ever get tired of looking at me?” she teased.
“I’m serious, Anna. For once in your goddamn life, will you listen, woman?” Worry sharpened his words.
She yanked free. “I think you’re forgetting who’s the boss here.” Her own temper ignited at his attitude.
“And I think you’re forgetting someone tried to kill you.” His words grilled over her.
She looked up at him, her eyes snapping. “Really? When was that?” Her chocolate eyes darkened and she spun around, marching towards the stairs with Micah shadowing her.
“And no leaving the club room,” he ordered.
“Why don’t you just put a tracker on me?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered.
***
Micah spotted Slade straight away.
He’d been suspicious but discounted him as the one to push her in. If he had any foundation for his suspicion, the man wouldn’t be walking. When he’d passed him that night, he’d been in deep conversation, and Savannah had been in the pool a scant few minutes earlier. Any longer and she’d have been brain dead.
Then, he decided with a snap of irritation, you couldn’t destroy what wasn’t there. Because if she had any sense, she’d listen to him.
He looked for Savannah and spotted her standing beside the bar. She shot him a glare of pure evil. She certainly could be a devil, he thought with a grin, but she was the ultimate angel in bed. Then he turned his attention to the burlesque dancer, who held the crowd enthralled. He was so relived it wasn’t Anna up there.
His eyes continually lit on her dark head. She appeared to be heeding his advice, even if she did wear a scowl every time her eyes met his.
Another group of men surged in. He groaned aloud when he spotted an ex of his, Angie. The blonde clung to the arm of a large man. He looked prosperous and muscled, but older than Micah by at least ten years and paunchy.
The last thing he wanted was to be recognized now. Determined to keep his distance, Micah attempted to merge with the crowd and melt back into the shadows.
But it was too late.
He noticed how her attention suddenly focused on him, and the light in her eyes brightened. She unlatched her tenacious grip from her partner and moved towards him.
“Micah, what are you doing here?” she trilled. Reaching up, she planted a kiss on his cheek and a wide smile lit her features.
“Hi, Angie, I’m just socializing with some friends.” He glanced across the way at the raw fury in Savannah’s face and knew she’d seen Angie’s swift kiss.
He was aware that he’d have some apologising to do. “Don’t you think you’d better get back to your partner?”
She heard the chill in his voice and nodded. “Well, it’s been nice seeing you again,” she said, and edged back. Any hope of a reconciliation died in her eyes at his rigid expression. Slowly she turned and headed towards the man she’d arrived with and they disappeared into the crowd.
Micah searched for Savannah, relieved that she’d stayed put. She was in deep conversation with the barman. For once Micah was glad of the previous owner’s gay policy.
***
Savannah’s stomach churned, yet she was determined to calm her temper. Hell, was every female hot for him?
They’d have to be blind not to be.
She knew so little about Micah. Not even his sister’s name. She decided that she was going to have to tell him to back off all other females. To remind him of her no sharing rule. Her mobile vibrated and she smiled as her brother’s name came up.
Since her near-death experience in the pool, he’d phoned every day. She hugged the phone to her ear, weaving through the crowd. The music started, and the stripper came on.
She happened to glance up and noticed Micah was transfixed.
Bastard, she thought.
Moodily she watched the slight grin play over his lips as she struggled to hear Cato’s voice.
Savannah slipped through the door into the relative silence of the lobby. “Hi, Cato. Yes, I’m fine. No, I had to come out of the club. I couldn’t hear you with the music blasting.” She punched the code and pushed the door to the private quarters.
Savannah continued to move past the stairs into the kitchen. Her stomach was growling for food.
She didn’t notice that the door closed slowly, but not quite. A hand held it. A figure slid in and shut it behind.
“Okay, Cato, I’ll ask Micah to fetch me over tomorrow.” She smiled at his concern and clicked the mobile off. Savannah was leaning into the large fridge, debating what to have, when a pair of arms slunk around her waist.
“Piss off, Micah,” she spat. “I saw that blonde kiss you.” But spinning around, she found herself looking into the hooded eyes of Slade.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Slade was tipsy. He’d drunk more than he should. But the whiskey had gone down like honey.
Smooth.
He’d watched her from his table, noticing how the big bastard hovered like an avenging angel. And Slade was angry. He’d waited and bided his time at the café. Then the big bastard just waltzes in and takes her. Well, now he was going to get a sample. If she wasn’t giving
it, then he’d simply seize what he wanted.
Savannah struggled to get away.
As she tugged at his arms, her temper exploded. She turned and lashed out at him, her palm smacking him across his face. Slade growled and hit her back. Hard. Savannah whimpered beneath the vicious slap, and a trickle of blood spurted from her nose.
“Hit me again and you’ll be sorry,” he swore. Gripping the front of her dress, he ripped it open. His greedy eyes fed on her breasts as she tried to cover herself. Twisting her head, she fought against him as his lips covered hers. He pressed her back over the table, his erection digging into her. “Now, you bitch, you’re going to see what a real man’s like.” He tugged at his buckle. Savannah screamed as she struggled beneath him.
***
Micah swore loud and long. She had done it again. He searched everywhere, worriedly scanning the crowd. Standing in the lobby, Micah swore that if he found her outside he’d make her sorry. Then he heard a terrified scream, and his blood ran cold.
It came from their quarters.
He keyed the pad and flew through the door. He was about to thunder up the stairs when he heard it again. Micah raced towards the rear into the kitchen, and when he saw the red-haired man on top of Savannah, he exploded.
He grasped his body and dragged him off. One glance at her blooded face and torn dress sent a rage he’d never experienced before roaring through him. His fists slammed into Slade, sinking into his paunch and splitting his lip.
Savannah knew Micah would kill Slade if she didn’t stop him. Still shaking, she tried to grasp his arm. In a blind fury, he flashed his fist out at Savannah, and she screamed, seconds before he pulled the punch. He paused, shaken that he’d almost hit her. Slade lay on the floor, watching him, his eyes wide with terror and his face covered with blood.
“Micah, no more,” she pleaded, hanging on to his arm. She tried to pull her ruined bodice up to cover herself, to no avail.
“Stay here, and for Christ’s sake listen to me and don’t move. You hear?” he shouted. She nodded, frightened by the rage she had witnessed. He stooped and dragged Slade up.
“Do you want to press charges?” He turned to Savannah.
