High Risk (27 page)

“You like that, do you? Interesting.” Marcus smoothed his fingers over her cheek.
She moved slower. Let the slickness of her saliva ease the motion, his cock glistening
in the light. He stroked his fingertips along the corner of her mouth, and she shivered.

Marcus ran his hand down her back toward where her butt was raised high as she knelt
over him. His fingers glided over her ass, then back up as she continued to work his
cock.

“I’m going to take care of you, Becki. All the ways you need caring for.”

Becki smiled and sucked hard as she popped off, holding him vertical like a treat.
“Who’s taking care of who?”

He smiled. “I’m smart enough to know the answer to that is more complicated than it
looks. Crawl on over and ride me. Finish what we started this morning. I want to feel
you on my cock. I want to feel you wet and needy as you come.”

Becki bit back the whimper that wanted to escape. She might be a strong individual,
she might own her sexuality, but right now she was so damn eager for him she could
barely see straight. She knelt on either side of his hips and rocked over his wet
cock, gliding the hard length through her folds without letting him in.

He let her repeat the move a half dozen times before he grabbed her by the ass and
held her in place. “Now, Becki. Fuck me. Fuck me until you can’t stand it anymore.”

She wasn’t going to fight that kind of order. She tilted her pelvis and the broad
head pierced her folds. Before she could lower herself, Marcus pushed her hips, thrusting
up and burying himself to the root.

“So
so
good.” Becki let her head fall back as she rested her hands on Marcus’s shoulders
and began a determined rise and fall over him. Every motion took him deep, her passage
squeezing around his shaft as he filled her, as their movements caused all her sensitive
nerve endings to be rubbed again and again.

He twisted his hips and held her ass tighter. Every touch of his increased her pleasure.
Made her all the more aware of his possession. Of their heavy breathing as they strained
toward release, of his hold on her body that made it seem he would refuse to let her
go.

Passion and pleasure rising fast, mindless of everything else. Just the forceful connection
between them. His willingness to give, her need to feel alive.

“Touch yourself,” Marcus ordered. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

His words strained out through barely parted lips, as if he fought to hold back. Resisting
release until she joined him. Becki raced to follow his directions. She slipped her
fingers over her clit, rubbing where they joined together, and he groaned in approval.

His shoulder was tight under her other hand, entire body poised and ready to go. She
increased her tempo, felt the wave approaching.

“Now, oh now. Oh yes.” She stared into his face as she came. A second later she witnessed
the shock hit him as well. The flicker in his eyes, the tightening of his lips as
his cock jerked with her. Pleasure taking her body with total abandon.

There were spots before her eyes, her head spinning as the climax stole through her
body. Limbs slowly relaxing, Becki leaned forward and rested their torsos together,
waiting for her heart to slow.

Marcus stroked her back, the thick length of his cock buried in her core. “Welcome
to the Landers Retreat House. Would you like valet service?”

“I’ll answer when I can move again.” She twisted her head to kiss his cheek.

He smiled indulgently. “Take your time. I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

Becki waited a moment, soaking in the last moments of pleasure from their romp. As
a source of distraction, Marcus had all the moves.

CHAPTER
29

A tiny flash of something moving past the window made her push upright to stare in
disgust. “Snow? It’s really going to snow now?”

Marcus nodded. “Welcome back to Canada in May. Look at the good side. We could get
trapped for a week.”

“That’s a good side?” She wiggled off his lap and grinned at his expression. “Well,
yes, it could be fun, so you can stop leering. Another plus—I doubt we’ll have visitors
if there’s any kind of accumulation.”

She pulled her clothes back on while he adjusted and zipped, both of them opening
the doors at the same time. The rush of fresh air and the scent of the spruce trees
slammed into her with a powerful hit, memories of years spent in these mountain ranges
settling her soul.

“This is a good place,” Becki decided, glancing around with delight at the gorgeous
setting. Peace settled a little harder—there was no way she could avoid it. The Rocky
Mountains were as close to heaven on earth for her as it got. It had always been that
way. Paradise, the occasional touch of hell, but mostly a healing balm for her spirit.

They worked easily together, carrying in supplies. Marcus stopped her in the middle
of one trip to wrap his arm around her and kiss her thoroughly.

She touched her fingers to her lips, still buzzing from the attack. “Well, that was
unexpected. Nice, but out of the blue.”

“We have no agenda, Becki,” he pointed out. “No rush. No need to be settled in under
five minutes. Slow down and take your time.”

“Practice a little patience? Is that what you’re telling me?” she teased.

“Of course.” Marcus tweaked her nose, then twirled her toward the kitchen. “Take a
peek and see how things look. I’ll turn on the propane and the pumps.”

He vanished out the front door, and she caught herself staring at his ass. Unnumbered
days alone with him, and she couldn’t wait. Forget going slow, this was the unexpected
opportunity of a lifetime.

The weekend they’d shared so many years ago had changed her life. She’d been headstrong.
Impulsive. Probably bound for an early grave if he hadn’t talked her through her wild
impulses and proved she could still have a good time while staying alive.

Her future at the time had seemed wide open, and he’d helped her see the real possibilities.
Now her options were closing in, but surely out of all the people to be able to help
her find her way, he was the one.

Her memory would come back. Marcus was right—she fully expected, sometime during the
next days, to be overwhelmed with whatever it was that remained buried. Remembering
was going to hurt, and potentially destroy all the plans she’d made.

It wasn’t going to destroy her. She vowed it wouldn’t.

She snatched up the broom leaning against the corner and used it like a weapon, taking
out her frustrations on the small dust bunnies and leaves that had drifted in the
door to lie tucked along the edges of the floorboards.

If she’d cut the line on Dane, there was no way she could go back to work on any rescue
squad. Even if there’d been no alternative—it might have been her last choice, but
that truth would also mean a lot of jobs would be off her list.

Like teaching. The team hadn’t freaked out, but for everyone who took the time to
get to know her, there would be those who judged her strictly on the past situation.
She couldn’t do that to David and the Banff SAR school.

She scooped the debris into the dustpan and carried it outside. Who was she kidding?
Taking teaching off the list wasn’t about being compassionate to David. She wouldn’t
want to go through life starting every semester with suspicion, reliving the hurt
and the doubt all over again, and that was what teaching would end up doing.

Only a masochist would ask for that kind of punishment. She might like her sex a little
rough at times, but daily life shouldn’t involve pain.

Becki stepped inside and took a closer look around, distancing herself from her morbid
thoughts. There was a sturdy table with four chairs, and a small kitchen counter and
island across from it that separated the cooking area from the living room. A wood-frame
couch and two chairs, thick cushions on both.

The infamous wood-burning stove in the corner of the room with a thick rug in front
of it.

Cozy, but not in a smothering sense, more like compact and orderly. Another place
of peace.

The first of the two doors in the back wall opened onto a tiny bathroom and she grinned.
Indoor plumbing for the win. Rustic was good—outhouses, not so good.

“You see, your prediction about lots of skin rubbing together in the shower is one
hundred percent correct.” Marcus spoke quietly right over her shoulder, his arm catching
her before she could turn. His right hand slipped around her belly and he tugged her
back tightly against his torso. “I turned on the pump and the rapid-fire heater. We
can shower in that thing until the stream runs dry and never lose our hot water.”

Warm lips met her cheek and Becki stretched, leaning into him. Accepting his caress.
“Did I say thank you for bringing me here?”

“You did. A few times. You can stop. I want to be here with you.”

His sincerity was clear.

She turned and stared into his face, searching for understanding. “Why? Why are you
doing this? I know what I want, I know why I’m here—”

“Or you think you do,” he interrupted.

Becki poked him in the gut with an extended forefinger. He grunted in pain as he released
her. “Stop with the assuming. I’m grateful you brought me away from the vultures,
and I said I trusted you. Doesn’t mean I want you putting words into my mouth and
meanings to my actions before you hear what I have to say.”

Marcus leaned on the wall beside her, trapping her in the bathroom space. “Or maybe
you should accept that you’re saying loud and clear what’s in your head without having
to open your mouth.”

Oh really. “Mind reader now, are you?”

“If you want to call it that.” Marcus caught her hand in his, tugging her after him.
He moved slowly, like she was a wary animal. Maybe she was. . . . Becki kept her footing
steady as Marcus smoothed his knuckles over her cheek, his perceptive gaze darting
over her face. “I won’t push. Not yet. But I’m here for you—one hundred percent, just
like you asked.”

She sighed, letting go of her tension. “Sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s understandable. Come on, let’s burn off a little of your aggression before we
dig to find out what David gave us for supplies.”

She dressed warmly, with sturdy hiking boots and thin but comfortable gloves. Gore-Tex
jacket and a toque in her pocket, just in case. A nice long walk after sitting would
feel good.

They were outside and pacing easily down a game trail before she realized he’d avoided
her question—the one where she asked for his reasons. In spite of his teasing, she
knew why she was hiding in the wilderness.

What had made him willing to drop everything?

* * *

Marcus stirred the chili one last time, then turned to watch Becki pace the cabin.

Although she wasn’t marching back and forth in the strictest sense of the word. It
was as if all the unused energy she’d had to contain during their drive was still
escaping, even after their walk and the impromptu workout she’d forced him to do that
involved jumping jacks and torturous abdominal moves.

She’d found a box of candles in the box of groceries and had gathered all the possible
candleholders from everywhere in the room. An eclectic collection of old bottles to
antique brass. She’d filled them one at a time, carrying each back to a select spot.
Now she systematically lit them one after another, leaving tiny beads of glowing yellow
in her wake.

He dimmed the propane lantern on the wall behind him to allow her handiwork to shine
brighter.

Becki turned slowly, pulling off her sweater and draping it over the back of the couch.
“This cabin is beautiful. Although that stove is going to cook me out of here if we’re
not careful.”

“I turned down the damper already,” Marcus said. “I agree—it gets going and it’s like
the middle of summer in here.”

She stood and stared at the flame, the dancing flickers from the stove meshing with
the smaller torches she’d created to fill the space with luxurious warmth. The soft
light caressed her skin. Turned the entire room unearthly.

He could barely speak. Intruding seemed sacrilegious.

Her hands reached for the ceiling as she stretched, lowering her arms and twisting
to face him, a contented smile on her face. “Supper nearly ready? I’m starving.”

“I love a woman with a good appetite.”

She moved to his side and helped arrange things on the table. “Which should mean you
cooked enough for both of us. Worst thing ever—first dinner dates that the pots are
scraped clean and my stomach is still grumbling.”

Marcus guided her to a chair, leaning in close to take a long inhale of her scent.
“I promise to feed you well. I think David packed for three, so we’re good.”

She scooped chili into both their bowls, licking a drop from her finger as she passed
his serving over. “David was a bit of a miracle worker to get all that together so
quickly.”

“Typical David,” Marcus admitted. “I sort of suspect he figured out before we did
that we’d head for the hills. He’s good that way. Part of what’s always made him do
so well with the school. He knows when to step in, when to let things slide. Who’s
the right person for the right job. When to kick my butt and when to leave me alone.”

She nodded slowly, staring at her bowl. “I hope I don’t have to disappoint him.”

Miracle of miracles. Would she actually talk about what she was really running from
without him having to drag it from her? “In what way?”

She dipped her spoon into the chili, then lifted it, licking the bowl of the spoon
as she clearly debated what to say. “Just thinking out loud. This is tasty, Marcus.”

She set to eating as if she were starving, and he let the comment pass. He’d said
he would give her space, and that was what he would do. As much space as a twelve-by-twelve
cabin would allow.

But even if she wasn’t willing to share right now what she was afraid of, he wasn’t
going to let her deal with it alone. He wasn’t going to wait until she called for
help before he did something to help her through the hurting.

Small talk. Dishes. They’d shifted to the couch, and she curled up at his side without
being asked. It was natural and comfortable, which meant it was totally time to shake
things up.

Time to move decisively.

“I think we should play a game,” he proposed.

Becki snorted softly, stopping where she’d been drawing circles on his forearm with
her finger. “If you suggest Truth or Dare, I’m going to make you sleep on the couch.”

Marcus shifted her to the side so he could see her face more clearly. “Hate that game
or something?”

“Hello—what do you think triggered that stupid assault on the exterior of the Banff
Springs so long ago? Although there were shots of tequila involved as well.”

“I was sure there had to be alcohol involved in that somehow,” Marcus taunted. “No,
nothing so childish as Truth or Dare.”

“Strip poker?”

“I cheat.”

Becki smiled. “Risk? Monopoly?”

Marcus shook his head. “As if you could sit for an entire board game. You’d have it
upset with all your wiggling before I got to bankrupt you.”

A log cracked, and they both glanced at the tiny fire he had going. “Twenty Questions?
That’s what it seems like.”

“No. Let me help you. It’s like Simon Says, but simpler. All it involves is you doing
whatever I tell you.”

He heard her quick intake of breath. “That might be fun.”

“Well, you did mention you expected lots of sex over the next few days. I’d hate to
disappoint.”

“Ohhh . . .” she drawled, “It’s going to be
that
kind of ordering me around. And here I thought you’d have me tap-dancing or something
like that to entertain you.”

“Trust me. I plan to be very entertained.” Marcus waited, gazing into her eyes. Looking
for a clue of what she needed right now that would get her past the coming confusion.

Her smile twitched, but she sat straighter, leaning toward him. She planted a hand
on his chest, then brought their mouths together for a slow, sweet kiss. Languid tongues
and easy pressure. Just enjoying each other as if they had all the time in the world.
No deadlines, nothing hanging over them.

God, he wanted that to be the reality for her.

When she pulled away he’d nearly decided to forgo the games and take her to bed. Nothing
needed but the slow steady feed of the passion between them. Only her expression as
she found her feet before him?

Longing, and yet fear. Not of him, he was sure of that. Of the future. Of what closing
her eyes might reveal.

Marcus stretched out his legs, deliberately taking his time to settle into a comfortable
position. Making it about him and his wants. Taking the focus off her. She was strong
enough to call him out if he’d guessed wrong, but he didn’t think he was.