Into the Storm (30 page)

“Wow. Okay. How about…
Moulin Rouge,
” Izzy said.
“Shakespeare in Love, The Last of the Mohicans?”
He glanced at her.
“Stay alive, whatever you do…”

Tracy nodded. His Daniel Day-Lewis imitation was rather good, right down to the super-intense eyes. “Big favorites. All of them.”

“Good,” Izzy said. “Okay. Give me a second, I can do this…” He was silent for another moment, but then he said, “You know, you remind me of her. Of Ariel.” He glanced at her, and in the light from the dashboard, his smile was warm and charmingly crooked. “It’s your eyes.”

“Really?”

When Izzy smiled, his face was transformed from merely dangerously attractive, with all its planes and hard edges and angles, to extremely handsome. His eyes crinkled at the edges, sparking and dancing with that offbeat, devilish amusement he brought to everything he did or said.

“Absolutely,” he told her. “Big and blue and…” He glanced at her again, and this time, it was the tenderness she saw on his face that took her breath away. “Just a little bit sad.” He pulled his gaze back to the road, a muscle jumping in the side of his jaw. “God, I could fall for you so easily.”

Tracy sat up, her heart in her throat. “You could?”

The smile he sent her now was forced. “I don’t know if I can do this, Trace.” It wasn’t until he put the car into park that she realized he’d pulled into some kind of rest area. It was little more than a patch of dirt alongside the state road, as completely deserted as everything else out here. She caught a glimpse of empty picnic tables before he killed the headlights and turned on the overhead.

It was glaringly bright, as if he didn’t trust himself to sit with her in the dark.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered, his eyes tormented as he turned in his seat, toward her, “that if we make love…my fate will be sealed.” He touched her, though, his hand warm against her cheek. “But if you don’t kiss me right now, I may not survive.”

It was unreal—as if he’d somehow changed, again, into someone else. Someone gallant and romantic and…perfect.

Tracy kissed him. How could she not?

It was like a kiss from a movie about star-crossed lovers, starving for one another’s touch. This was incredible—she’d never been kissed with such passion before. Not by Lyle, not by anyone.

She hadn’t expected it to be like this, to actually
want
to be with another man. Whenever she’d thought about paying Lyle back, she’d imagined it would happen fast. With her closing her eyes and turning her head away.

And faking it.

But when Izzy finally pulled back, she was breathing hard, her heart pounding.

He held on to the steering wheel with both hands. “This is going to kill me,” he gasped. “Having you like this, then letting you go…”

“Maybe we should stop.” The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, but oh, dear God help her, she was praying he wouldn’t let her shut this down.

“No,” he said—thank God. His voice was rough, his eyes those of a man possessed. It was the way Lyle had once looked at her. As if she were everything—and then some. “I want you too badly. I need you—God, I need you so much, Tracy. Just…I’m going to have to live on my memories of this one night. Only one night—in a lousy car.” He kissed her again. “I wish I could make love to you in a bed—no, on a bed covered in rose petals. I wish I could see you lying there, the most beautiful woman in the world—all mine, even if just for one too-short night.”

He’d unzipped her sweatshirt, and she helped him peel it down her arms, helped him pull off the T-shirt she wore as a pajama top.

“Whoa,” he breathed, because she was naked beneath it. “Hello, hot mama—I mean, oh, my darling, you’re so beautiful, it takes my breath away.”

The look in his eyes was pure worship and heat. But he didn’t reach for her. He just sat back and looked, as if in his mind she were on that romantic petal-strewn bed.

Except she had on plaid pajama pants. She kicked off her sneakers and skimmed her pjs down her legs. And there she was. Completely naked, even though the car was lit up like a fishbowl in the darkness.

“I know it’s not the same as being in a bed,” she started.

“So not caring,” he said, and reached for her.

To her surprise, he was gentle, almost unbearably so. As he skimmed his hands across her bare skin, she had to close her eyes. And then, yes, he was kissing her, licking, touching and tasting, his lips and mouth soft, in such contrast with the scratchiness from his chin against her throat, her breasts, lower…. Except there wasn’t enough room, despite the fact that he’d somehow reached around her and completely reclined her seat. The car horn went off, a sharp blast as he bumped it, and he lifted his head, laughing into her eyes. “Whoops. Sorry.”

He still had most of his clothes on—he’d only managed to shed his jacket, and she touched his belt buckle. But he shifted back, out of reach. “What, don’t you like surprises?” he teased.

Tracy laughed, smiling back at him. “What, do you want me to beg or something?”

“Yeah, actually, that would work well for me,” he said, his fingers exploring between her legs, finding her hot and slick with desire. “Ah, Tracy…”

He was being so brave, smiling and laughing, when in truth his heart had to be breaking. She kissed him, long and deep. How could she not?

“Please,” she whispered, between kisses. “I’m begging you. Please, baby. I need you inside me. Now.”

Somehow, while she was kissing him, he’d maneuvered himself beneath her. Somehow he’d unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants and covered himself with one of those condoms she’d put in the cup holder.

He lifted her up, way up, his hands on her hips, and she felt him, hard and large, against her.

“Oh, dear God,” she said, as he started to fill her, but then he stopped, halfway. She tried to move closer, but his grip on her was unrelenting. She opened her eyes and found him laughing up at her.

“Ooh, the eye contact is nice, but I’m looking for something more,” he told her.

“Please,” she said. “Please, baby…”

“Please,
who
?” he asked.

“Izzy,” she said, and he smiled.

“Much better,” he said, holding her gaze as he lowered her all the way down.

“Izzy,” she said again, as he pushed himself impossibly deeply inside of her, as he finally let her move on top of him. “Oh, Izzy…”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Fucking A, you are so incredibly sexy…I mean, I know I can only have you for this one night, my dearest. If only wishes could come true…But I’ll remember this…I’ll remember you forever—giving yourself so completely to me.”

“Izzy…”

He moved with her now, catching her hips to slow her down, pulling her close to capture her mouth with his, even as he murmured, “Oh, yeah. This is amazing.”

It was. She was on top and should have been in control, but she wasn’t. He dictated the slow slide of their bodies, the tempo of their movement, just how far she could go, holding her back unless she breathed his name.

He still had his sweater on, and his scarf, too, but when she tugged at them, trying to get to his bare skin beneath, he gently pulled her hands away. “No, no, no,” he said, “that’s part of
my
fantasy.”

Tracy didn’t understand. His fantasy? But she stopped wondering as he pushed himself all the way inside of her, as she cried out, and he laughed up at her.

He was finally letting her move without any restrictions, and so she did as he gazed at her, his eyes half-closed, his pleasure clearly etched on his face. “Damn, you are beautiful. And I
am
going to remember tonight forever. That part wasn’t just bullshit.”

Bullshit?

But he was looking at her with such hunger. “Kiss me.”

She met him halfway, and, almost as if they’d planned it in advance, they both hesitated. It was only for a second or two, with their lips a whisper apart. But Tracy opened her eyes to find Izzy’s eyes open, too.

He smiled—she may have smiled back. But then he kissed her, and she kissed him, and the world exploded in a barrage of amazing sensations. His sweater-clad arms wrapped tightly around her bare back. The rasp of his chin against hers. His tongue in her mouth, her fingers in his hair, her knee against the hard plastic of the seat belt lock, the overhead light so bright that the windows revealed only pitch-black, their bodies straining to get closer, even closer.

Izzy made a sound low in his throat, and she felt him tighten beneath her through the powerful waves of her own release.

How could this feel so good, so right, so…

Perfect.

And still he kissed her.

But sweetly now, as if he were kissing her good-bye.

And Tracy burst into tears.

Jenk turned off the TV, frustrated with Izzy for dropping off the edge of the earth.

He was frustrated with himself, too—with his goddamn overly creative imagination. It had come up with this scenario where, coming back from putting gas in the two SUVs they’d used today, Izzy wandered over to Lindsey’s room. Just to say hi.

Right.

Jenk threw on his jacket, telling himself that as long as he couldn’t sleep, he might as well see who was awake and hanging in the restaurant, over by the bottomless supply of coffee.

Sure, that’s where he was going. Which was why he ended up standing outside of Lindsey’s room, shoulders hunched against that bitch of a north wind.

A light was on inside. He could see it through the curtains that covered the window. It was nothing too bright, and he found himself thinking of the way she’d covered that lamp on his bedside table with a pillowcase, creating a soft, romantic glow. He could hear the murmur of her voice. The musical sound of her laughter.

Fuck it. He knocked, jamming his hand back into his pocket as he stood and waited for the door to open.

Which it did, almost immediately.

She’d changed out of the clothes she’d worn to dinner. Instead she wore workout gear—gym pants and one of those form-fitting bra tops that left her arms and most of her shoulders completely bare.

And there they were, standing and staring at each other. For a moment, it was as if all the harsh words and hurt and disappointment of the past few days had vanished. She was looking at him much in the same way she had when he’d first brought her into his apartment.

“I’m looking for Izzy,” Jenk said, because they weren’t back there. They were here. In the Land of Suck. A journey for which she’d been on point.

“Damn, Izzy,” she called in a voice that would have reached the tiny bathroom. “Jenk’s onto us. Better put your clothes back on, stud.” She turned back to Jenk, jerking the door wider open. “No, he’s not here, but by all means, come in and search.”

“There’s no need to get hostile.” Jenk started to back away, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. “I was just looking for him and thought—”

“Lindsey’s a slut, maybe he’s in her room,” she said, lifting the bedspread so he could see beneath it.

“You don’t like yourself very much, do you?” he said.

Her laptop was out on the bed, along with the room phone. She’d been calling the members of the TS Inc team, making sure everyone knew the revised start time for tomorrow’s exercise. Jenk had gotten a similar call from the senior chief.

Instead of answering, Lindsey marched over to the bathroom, slapping on the light and pulling the shower curtain back with a screech. “Of course, Izzy’s a SEAL. He might be hiding in the toilet tank. Izzy, are you in there?”

“Look, he’s been gone too long,” Jenk foolishly tried to explain. “It was nice for a while, you know, to have the privacy—”

“Yeah, how
is
Tracy?” Lindsey came back out of the bathroom to ask. “What’d you two do all evening? Watch Animal Planet?”

“What?” Jenk couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Lindsey actually thought that…“Privacy as in solitude. God
damn
it, are you
really
—” This was not going to help. He took a deep breath. “Can we hit pause for a second here?” The jealousy they were both guilty of feeling was surely a sign that the relationship they’d had was more than friendship and casual sex. Why couldn’t she see that?

But Lindsey was still stuck on the details. “Tracy wasn’t with you?” she clarified. “Starting around eight?”

“No.”

“Not at all?”

Jesus.
“No.”

Any jealousy she might have been feeling had been completely replaced with concern. “Because I just spoke to Sophia, and Tracy’s still not back in their room.”

“Aw, come on, Tracy. It’s going to be all right, I promise,” Izzy said as the wicked-ass fun part of the evening morphed seamlessly into the far soggier regrets and recriminations part. He tried to cheer himself up by thinking that it could have been way worse. At least
both
of them weren’t shit-faced and crying.

To her credit, Tracy was trying hard to stanch the flow, searching for her clothes, scrambling with them into the backseat where she got dressed. “I’m sorry,” she kept saying, as he zipped his pants.

He’d spotted a trash container out by a picnic table when he’d first pulled off the road, and he turned up the heat and defroster before he opened the car door and stepped into the bracing night air. Shit, it was cold. He dashed to the trash can, ditched the condom they’d used, and…

Something made him pause. Was someone actually out there, in the woods?

He listened for a moment, but the night was silent. It was just his overactive imagination.
Give me back my leg.
Yeah, right. If he and Tracy were going to be killed by a deranged ghoul, it would’ve happened well before they’d climaxed.

Izzy dashed back to the car, climbing in behind the wheel. He hit the lock button though. Why not?

Tracy’s sneakers were still on the floor in the front, so he picked them up. When he turned to hand them to her, she actually managed to give him a shaky smile.

“I was thinking,” she said, almost shyly, “about that only one night thing…?”

Ding, ding, ding-ity ding. Izzy’s notch in her belt was clearly vermilion. Thank you. Thank you very much. And he’d been wrong about the evening going south fast. It was, perchance, turning into a night for his “Best of” list. As in Best Unexpected Sex of His Life.