White Heat (16 page)

She was vaguely aware when he removed his hand from her back, and a moment later she heard the rush of water. He’d reached over and turned on the shower. Bringing his hand back, he wove his fingers in her hair, while the other slid down to cup her bottom. If he was trying to calm her, it wasn’t working. His touch made something deep inside her spiral more tightly. She deepened the kiss. Made it harder. Hotter.

Kissing him shamelessly, her fingers gripped his hair to hold him where she wanted him. Not caring if he knew how desperately she needed this connection. This affirmation of life. His erection, trapped behind the zipper of his pants, nudged her mound, sending shards of sensation to her every nerve ending, making her hypersensitive and already so aroused she knew she wouldn’t need much to push her over the edge. Moisture gathered between her legs, and her nipples, crushed against the hard plane of his chest, ached.

“Help me forget,” she whispered against his lips. “Just for a few minutes, help me forget.”

His hands bracketed her face, and drawing her mouth up to his, he kissed her with controlled gentleness as he crowded her backward until he had her pressed between the furnace of his body and the cool porcelain sink.

“Lift your arms:’ he murmured against her eagerly seeking mouth as he reached down and pulled her sweater up. The wet wool did nothing to cool her burning skin as he yanked the garment over her head one-handed, tossing it somewhere on the floor behind him.

“Come back.” She grabbed the front of his damp T-shirt in both hands and tugged. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“You first.” He tugged down her pants and thong while he bent his dark head and his mouth found her nipple. He sucked hard as he shoved her garments down her legs. Her back arched as she kicked her feet free.

“Hurry. Hurry. I want it hard and fast and
now,
Max.
Right
now.”

“Hold that thought,” he murmured, his lips twitching as he backed her into the shower, then followed her into the stall. His big body crowded her against the cool tiled wall beneath the heavy beat of the showerhead as the stall filled with steam.

Emily closed her eyes and let the hot water beat on her head and down her back as Max pumped shampoo into his hand from a dispenser on the tiled wall. He gently put her from him, and lathered her hair. Murmuring a protest, she nevertheless closed her eyes, staying where she was. Hot water sluiced down her back, tickling as it ran down her legs.

“Lift your face,” he instructed, positioning her to rinse the lather out of her hair. “Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed, as he gently washed the blood off her skin, then rinsed the soap off her cheeks with his wet hands.

He bathed her from top to bottom while the water beat on her back in a stupefying rhythm that lulled her into a kind of a trance. Her mind told her that Max’s touch was efficient and impersonal, but her body begged to differ. Max was keeping her at a high level of arousal. Her entire body was vibrating like a tuning fork as he turned her into the spray, lathering and rinsing her back.

“You do k-know,” she mumbled as he turned her around then knelt before her, lifting her foot on his thigh. “That you’re in here with all your clothes on, right?” She grabbed his shoulder as she teetered on one foot.

“I noticed.” His voice was as dry as he was wet. His clothes lovingly molded to his body, his dripping hair was flattened against his skull and neck, showing off the sharp planes of his features, making his eyes look as dark and fathomless as a mountain pool.

He stroked his hand slowly up her calf, then bent to press a kiss to the inside of her knee. When he licked and kissed a path up the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh the sensation made her shudder and burn.

“I’ve thought of nothing but tasting you for months,” he admitted hoarsely, his tongue cool as it slid across her shower-warmed skin.

“Please—” she whispered in a raw, almost unrecognizable voice as she found herself leaning against the tiles, Max’s head between her legs, his large hands cupping her ass.

A hot electric pulse shot through her body as his mouth explored more intimately and he tasted and explored with his slick, hard tongue. Her short nails dug into his broad shoulders as she tried to maintain her balance in a watery world gone hazy.

Her breasts ached, and she cupped one, pinching the aching hardness of her nipple between her fingers as Max’s mouth brought her to a hard, fast orgasm.

Shaken and limp she leaned against the wall, watching him as he rose to tower over her. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the corded, water-slick muscles of his shoulders as he kept eye contact and yanked down the zipper of his sodden jeans.

Grabbing fistfuls of his T-shirt she pulled it up his body and over his head, then grabbed his hair in her fists and pulled him back to kiss her. His laughter was muffled by her mouth, but she felt the vibration all the way through her body.

He pulled away to finish unzipping his jeans and finally— finally—sprang free. Heavy, thick, rigid. And right now—all hers. She reached for him greedily, cupping his heavy sex as he kicked off the rest his wet clothes.

“Bed,” he said, taking her mouth in a kiss that left no doubt in Emily’s mind about what was going to happen next.

When he lifted his mouth from hers to drag in a heavy breath, she demanded,
“Now,”
and pulled his mouth back to hers. Wrapping one leg around his narrow flank, she tried to position him where she was once again throbbing and aching.

Max bit back a laughing groan as Emily tried to climb his body.
“Bed,”
he repeated, pulling both her legs up around his waist, and supporting her sweet, creamy ass in his palms.

She buried her face against his neck and gave a gurgle of laughter. “I hope we don’t hit an air pocket.”

“What a way to go.” He exited the shower with her in his arms. “Off.” He paused just outside the glass door to let her shut off the water. The tiny bathroom was jungle-steamy, and sliding open the narrow door into the aft cabin let in a draft of much cooler air. Emily bit the side of his neck, making him groan.

He placed her on the narrow bed he’d pulled down from the wall unit earlier, then followed her down. Her legs were still wrapped around his hips, her heel digging into the flexing muscles of his ass.

Sliding his hands up the sensitive inside of her arms, he pushed them against the mattress, then twined his fingers with hers on either side of her head. Her big brown eyes had lost the dazed, terrified sheen he’d hated to see there earlier, now they looked up at him with a fierceness, and a determination that made his pulses race, and his cock throb.

She kissed a path down his chest as far as she could go. “I need it fast and hard.”

His lips twitched. “Hmm,” he murmured, bringing her head up so he could kiss her throat. “I believe I made a note of that earlier.”

She scowled, wiggling her hips under his, which made his body tighten and his teeth clench. “Well?” she demanded, narrow-eyed. Crossing her ankles in the small of his back, she pulled him tightly against her body. She’d never been shy about what she wanted. Thank God that hadn’t changed, he thought taking her mouth in a kiss that stole his own breath and made his heart trip-hammer in his chest.

He dragged his mouth off hers, and lifted his head. He was done teasing. “I want you,” he said roughly as he guided himself to her entrance. She was wet, her muscles already clenching as he slid two fingers inside her.

“Have m..
.”

More chatting than he was used to. Max rammed inside her wet sheath. Arms around his neck, Emily buried her face against his chest, and shuddered. “Haaa— Don’t—m—” She came so fast he knew she’d been hanging on a precipice.

His own orgasm was blinding and instantaneous, and robbed him completely of breath. It was a few minutes before he could speak.

“Fast enough for you?” His fingers combed through her wet tangled hair, holding her tightly as he slanted his mouth over hers.

Her lips clung as he lifted his head. She brushed a quick kiss to his mouth. “Hmm. I’m not sure I’m done with you yet.”

“Insatiable.”

“With you,” she said running her hand across his torso and the line of hair that traveled down to where their bodies were still joined. “I think I am.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Max cradled her against his chest, their damp skin slick and binding them together. He brushed a kiss to her hair. “Sleep.”

She closed her eyes and dropped into dreamless oblivion.

He’d done what she’d asked. Made her forget. For an hour.

But forgetting didn’t make the problems, or the questions, go away. Not by a long shot.

“Fucking hell,” Max whispered harshly into the darkness. He lay there, Emily’s damp body curled against his, their hearts picking up each other’s rhythm so that the two heartbeats were like one.
“Fucking, fucking
hell.”

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for months. A dangerous distraction in his line of work. Now here he was again. Screwing up by screwing her. No, he thought, a chill traveling through his body. He hadn’t just
screwed
Emily Greene.

They’d made love.

He needed to get this business with her resolved and walk away. Fast. Her hair, tickling his nose, smelled—impossibly—of roses.

Nine

EMILY’S BODY TWITCHED AND SHE CRIED OUT AS SHE REVISITED
the Bozzatos’ kitchen in her dreams. In the world of nightmares she stood immobilized in the doorway, watching as the killer hacked and gutted his victims. Blood sprayed from Nonna Maria’s chest as her rheumy eyes begged Emily to save her. But Emily’s feet were glued to the sticky floor. She looked down and saw that her pink socks were wicking up a pool of brilliant red blood.

The viscous liquid moved up her bare legs, cutting like sharp little razor blades as it clawed its way up, and up, and up— Her own scream woke her. Panting, clammy with perspiration, she sat up and forced herself to take calm, even breaths. A dream. Just a dream.

By the angle of the light coming through the small windows it was early morning and from the lack of motion, she assumed the plane was on the ground, although she didn’t remember landing. She didn’t think she’d slept long, but the few hours of oblivion had helped.

The great sex had helped even more. For that hour she hadn’t been capable of any kind of coherent thought.

Don’t read anything into it,
she told herself firmly. The whole “leopard
doesn’t
change its spots” thing. As long as she could accept Max for what he was, she’d be okay.

Stretching out the slight soreness in muscles unused to mattress calisthenics, she tossed back the blanket and got up to peer outside. From the size of the building—small—she realized they must be at a private airport. There was no international airport in Córdoba.

Max had mentioned just before she fell asleep that he’d be gone when she woke up. But that he’d be back later that morning. She needed to take the time alone to get herself on track and centered. Falling apart again wasn’t going to accomplish a damn thing. Other than mind-blowing sex.

“What do I know for sure?” she asked herself, trying to be logical and reasonable when her life was anything but.

Fact. She had good cause to be afraid for her life. Fact. She was safe here with Max. For now. “But what about when he rides off into the sunset again?” It wasn’t a case of I but a case of
when.

Daniel had told her a lot about his son. Pretty much all of it unsavory, and unappealing. But if what Max said was true, then his father had lied. Then where had Daniel gotten his information? Nothing her mentor had told her meshed with the Max she was seeing. Why would Daniel lie? Other than to make himself appear in a better light. Maybe. “Or am I just seeing what I want to see?”

God. How would she
know,
considering what was going on? Was she allowing the physical attraction, which was unmistakable, to blend in with Max’s heroic behavior? What woman wouldn’t fall for a man who was big and strong and could literally save her from the bad guys?
And Daniel hadn’t been as pure as the driven snow either. He’d had his dark side, too.

She didn’t
have
to make a life-altering decision about Max. Whatever happened between them wasn’t long-term. And all the rest was incidental to the physical attraction.

“Fool me once .. .“
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
She ignored her own caution. The reality was she was so hot for the man she didn’t give a damn how short this interlude might be. He turned her inside out sexually, and the chemistry between them was hot enough to go supernova every time they touched. Every time their eyes met.

They were two consenting adults. This time she
knew
he’d be walking away without a backward glance. But for now—”Why
not
enjoy what he’s offering?”
Think like a man.

Maybe for once she should be willing to accept low expectations. There’d be no regrets on either side. She ignored the little twinge of irritation at herself. Since when did she settle? For anything?

She hadn’t
settled
for art school in Seattle when she knew the very best were in Italy. She hadn’t
settled
when she’d bought a custom, special order Maserati instead of a Jag off the lot. She hadn’t
settled
when she’d been courted by some of the top galleries and museums in the world.

Hell no. She’d always kept her eye on the prize, whatever it had been, and she’d gone for it.

“For all I know, he’s already mounted his black horse and ridden off into the sunrise,” she muttered under her breath, then shook her head at how ridiculous she was, bargaining with herself. “Great! What did I just decide?”

She really had to get her brain and body in sync to make these kinds of decisions.

Although the air-conditioning seemed to be working, she wasn’t sure of the water situation when the plane was stationary. Not taking any chances, she hastily showered, then dried off and went back into the small cabin. Max had left black jeans and a black T-shirt tossed over a desk chair. Thoughtful. Thought-provoking.