Extreme Danger (48 page)

She drifted closer, laid her head on his shoulder and relaxed against him while she caressed him with her hands under the water. Listening to him groan and hiss, racked with shudders of pleasure.

Finally, he grabbed her hands, pulled them away. “Stop,” he muttered thickly. “Cool it. Not yet. I have big plans for this hard-on.”

He put her to the side and burst out of the water with a heave and a surge and a violent back slosh, and shook himself as he climbed out. “I’m overheating,” he said abruptly, by way of explanation.

He sat down on the end of a wooden bench and turned his face up to catch the cool rain that pelted down on his body, eyes shut.

Becca got up, and followed him. The rain didn’t feel cold at all. It was deliciously soothing against her feverish body.

No desperate rush, now. All her doubts were gone. She came on, inexorable as the tide. He had no place to hide from her. Not anymore.

She sank down in front of him onto her knees on the wet wooden boards, her hands on his knees, and stared into the inscrutable mask of his face as her hands stroked slowly up his wet thighs, against the grain of his gleaming hair. Her fingers tangled in the wet, wiry curls at his groin. Fastened around the thick, taut root of his penis.

She could read the language of his face. The tension in his jaw, the tremor in his eyelids, the flare of his nostrils. Cords standing out on his neck. And that hot, urgent heartbeat, pulsing in her hands.

She put her mouth to him and began to hone her newly acquired oral skills. The dim blue glow was the only light, the only sound was the hum of the churning tub and the rushing whisper of rain hitting the deck, and pattering against their skin. The pine, cedar and spruce released an intoxicating perfume. She felt so hot. Rain should sizzle right off her body into steam. She felt so excited. So vibrant and alive.

She laved and licked, swirled and massaged, loved him with her tongue, her lips, her hands, until he hung over her, gasping for breath.

She dragged it out until her own need ached and throbbed, too sharp to ignore. Then she rose to her feet, and straddled him.

He held his cock up for her, as she lowered herself. She swirled the blunt bulb of his phallus inside her cleft to make him slicker, and then sank down, letting her own weight do the work. Tears welled into her eyes at the mingled pain and perfection of that slow, huge penetration. She moved, squeezed, writhed around that thick pole. Pleasure licked and throbbed. Pressure mounted.

He pulled her face around, cupped her jaw to stare into her eyes with his wet hand. Rain dropped down his face in rivulets.

“I love you,” he blurted, his voice raw.

She stared at him, her mouth shaking for a few dumbfounded moments. “I love you, too,” she whispered back. “I wanted to say it yesterday. I almost did, but I was so afraid you wouldn’t want—”

“I do,” he broke in roughly. “I want you. I want it all.”

She gulped back the tears and tried to smile, wiping away the rain that was running into her eyes. “That’s good,” she quavered.

He kissed her again. They held each other, and every subtle sway, every sigh, every clasp and pulse and squeeze was a sultry bloom of pleasure, bursting open to astonish them. Revelation after revelation.

He pulled his lips away. “Don’t leave me,” he said.

“I won’t,” she promised. “Not ever.”

Rain pounded down, a shower of sweet sensation, an outburst of pure emotion straight from the sky to cool their molten bodies.

“I mean it,” he said, emphasizing each hoarse word as if she might not have understood. “I mean for keeps. For life. Marry me.”

“Yes. All yours,” She was laughing, weeping for joy. “Everything.”

He clutched her. She wrapped her legs around him. They were a single entity, poised on the edge of the world.

In a state of utter grace.

Chapter
25

B ecca spooned up the last bit of hollandaise sauce from her eggs Benedict and tried both numbers again, for the tenth time. Carrie, then Josh. Both numbers, still turned off. Very unlike them. All three of the Cattrell siblings had strong feelings about the importance of being connected. The niggling pinch of fear in her belly eroded even her sweet glow of euphoria from that amazing night with Nick.

And guilt, too. That she hadn’t tried harder the day before.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Nick had paused in shoveling the last scraps of what was left of his enormous ham, cheese and vegetable omelette. He was frowning.

“My brother and sister,” she said. “I can’t reach them.”

He swallowed a big bite of toast, and glanced at his watch. “It’s 10:40 on a Sunday morning,” he offered. “I’d have my phone turned off too, if I were them. Try them when we’re back in town.”

She nodded and sipped coffee, trying to dismiss this full blown case of the heebie-jeebies. It was probably just a function of the extreme stress she was under. Not some psychic premonition of disaster.

Of course not. Nothing so woo woo. She wasn’t that kind of girl.

She’d already tried Carrie’s dorm, but no one had seen her in days. Same with Josh. None of the guys at his bachelor pad, known affectionately as the HellHole, remembered seeing him that weekend. Damn, she was going to be glad when she spoke to them, and could feel embarrassed about these creepy crawlies. In fact, she could hardly wait for the crushing embarrassment to descend. Bring it on. Anytime.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” she asked him.

“I’ve got Alex Aaro to cover for me for another few hours,” Nick said. “I’m going to go see Diana Evans.” He tapped his finger on a manila file folder that lay next to his plate. “Davy found her for me. Mathes, too, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to interview him.”

She blinked at him. “Wow. Can I…maybe not. She’d probably recognize me. I passed her in the hotel and the parking lot both.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly why you should hang out in the hotel. Better yet, I’ll leave you at the SafeGuard headquarters. That’s the best place.”

She sighed and shook her head. She and Nick had already had this argument this morning, more than once. Heartfelt declarations of love and marriage proposals were great and romantic, but they did not soften the guy up, or make him any more manageable. On the contrary, he seemed more protective and prickly about her safety than ever.

But since she had no idea how long this stressful state of alarm was going to continue, she was reluctant to give in to his bossing and set a dangerous precedent. She had no intention of living her life in an airless box, Zhoglo or no Zhoglo. She would grit her teeth, lift her chin, stick her tits out and go about her business like normal.

At least until she had clear and obvious reason to hide.

“I have my own errands to run,” she told him. “I need to take back my rental car, I need to get money from my account, I need some fresh clothes from my apartment—”

“So I’ll take you to do all that stuff when I get back,” he said. “And then we can go out and shop for the ring.”

His eagerness gave her a warm, fuzzy glow. She reached up and touched his cheek, smoothing his spiky brush of hair. “We can wait on the ring,” she told him. “There’s no rush. If you’re low on money—”

“I want to see it on you,” he said. “I can’t wait.”

They grinned at each other. A couple of giddy fools in love.

The groom, Sean McCloud, sauntered by, looking tousled, sleepy and very pleased with himself. He winked at Becca, and slapped Nick on the back. “Marriage is excellent,” he informed them. “You’re next, man.”

“Damn straight,” Nick said. “Get ready.”

Sean’s eyes widened. So did Nick’s grin. “Whoa,” Sean breathed. “Uh, you mean, like, you two—you’ve already, uh—”

“Yeah. Done deal,” Nick said. “Go ahead. Congratulate me.”

Sean blinked and ran his hands through his blond hair, making it stick straight up into the air. “Wait, wait. Didn’t you just pull this chick out of a swimming pool, what, just a couple of days ago?”

“Like Venus rising from the foam,” Seth said with a snicker, as he passed by, bearing a tray heaped with food. “Dripping wet, and a gun to her head. I’m telling you, gets ’em every time.”

“Hot damn!” Sean’s grin was incandescent. “That’s great news!” He leaned over Becca and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And she’s so cute, too. She adds to the scenery, big-time. I gotta tell Liv.”

He bounded off to the table where his bride was still eating breakfast, and within seconds, smiles and thumbs-up and sentimental glances were flashing their way from every side.

Becca clutched her coffee, and tried to breathe. Whew. She hadn’t been quite ready for a big announcement. It was so new, and she’d have preferred to treasure the secret for a while, but it wasn’t as if she’d communicated that preference to Nick. She hadn’t had time.

It occurred to her that Nick’s restless drive to get on with it, the way he was so hot to buy a ring even when his funds were tapped out, the way he was so eager to tell everyone…it was sort of like the way she’d been when she got engaged to Justin. It hadn’t felt real to her, so she’d carried on and told the whole world to make it feel more real.

So he was still feeling insecure. And after what they’d gotten up to all night, too. Wow. She had her work cut out for her to soothe this guy.

A rush of tenderness came over her for Nick, and for the lonely, vulnerable boy he had once been. She was going to make him realize that this thing was for real. That she was for real. Starting right now.

She got up, circled the table, and sat down on Nick’s lap. She cupped his face in her hands, and slowly, tenderly, publicly kissed him.

There were wolf whistles, cheers, even some scattered applause. She ignored it all. She could hardly help doing so, especially when he dug his fingers into her hair and returned her kiss as only he could.

When she finally came up for air, his eyes were closed with bliss, his face had hot streaks of red along his cheekbones, and his erection prodded her bottom. “When was check-out time, anyhow?” he muttered.

“Eleven,” Becca informed him.

He glanced at his watch. “Great. Let’s go back on upstairs.”

She started to laugh. “Oh, come on! We’ve already brought down our bags, and it’s only twelve minutes, so—”

“Who needs bags? Twelve minutes is enough. You done with breakfast?”

“Yes, but I—” She squeaked as he stood up, dumping her off his lap and dragging her up the big staircase that curved up right outside the entrance to the grand dining room.

They got on the road considerably later than they’d planned. Twelve minutes stretched to thirty-five, and he’d even tried to follow her when she retreated into the shower. She’d had to shove her lust-crazed Romeo bodily out the bathroom door, and lock it, just to get a few minutes’ peace to put herself back together.

She sat in the truck, on her tingling, tenderized bottom and sneaked amazed peeks at him as he drove. God, he was handsome.

And he was her fiancé. He loved her. Wanted to be with her forever. It was like a dizzy dream, and she never wanted to wake up.

Nick was not happy with the situation as it stood.

Another fierce, heated argument in the hotel parking lot had gone nowhere. Becca was in danger and she clearly did not yet know what the fuck she was dealing with, despite a good, long look on that goddamn island. But he was hog-tied, for the first time in his life, by the effort to meet her halfway. To act like a fucking team player.

To act like a fiancé. A husband, even.

He couldn’t throw his weight around now. He wanted to marry her, for fuck’s sake. She had the upper hand. It was making him nuts.

He’d had a really bad moment when she’d driven off in her rental car, waving at him. A stab of panic, like he might never see her again.

Ease down, bozo. He had to stay mellow. No panic, no freak-outs. Things were relatively mellow right now, and he had to be too, or risk scaring her off. He would not fuck this up. Not now that he was almost convinced that something so good might actually be in his grasp. That he might have more going for him than he’d ever dreamed possible.

That amazing, sweet woman. With him. Every day. Wow.

Engaged. His heart practically jumped out of his chest whenever he thought about it, which was every other second, if not more. It was like the positive equivalent of pressing down on a bruise. Instead of pain, he got a rush of pleasure, a tangle of random erotic images, a tingle in his balls. He wanted a ring on her finger. To marry her quick, before she had a chance to come to her senses and change her mind.

Love. He’d thought it was something that happened when a guy’s glands went nuts. When hormones tragically overtook him. A dangerous chemical imbalance that led a man into life-destroying choices.

Well, his glands were nuts. He was overtaken by hormones, and he wanted to stay surrendered to them for all time, flat on his back, crying uncle, with Becca on top of him, riding him like a cowgirl. With that smile on her face that made him laugh and cry like a fucking idiot.

A fucking happy idiot.

He wondered what kind of ring she would choose. That thought was quickly followed by wondering how he was going to pay for it. Maybe he could sell one of his motorcycles. Or a couple of guns.