by Cynthia Eden
God, yes. But he didn’t move at her words. Not a single movement.
Blair shouldn’t tease him this way. It was far too dangerous.
The floor creaked again as she closed the distance between them. Her warmth reached out to him. Her scent tempted him. Everything about her tempted him.
Then he felt her touch on his arm. “If you want me naked, maybe you should say so.”
“I told you…I’m not playing tonight.” He knew his mask was gone. He was too savage, too raw. And she could not offer him everything he wanted as if it was some kind of joke.
Fuck, he was the one who joked. And this was no damn joke.
“In my head, I keep imagining you shot.” His voice came out as primitive growl. “I want to find the bastard who shot at you, and I want to rip him apart with my bare hands.”
She reached for his hands. They were still fisted, and she closed her fingers over them. “I’m okay.”
“I’m not.” Brutal truth. “I held back as long as I could. I played the fucking role with everyone else around, but I am at the end of my rope.” He was warning her. Trying to, anyway. “You can’t offer me what I want right now.”
A faint furrow appeared between her eyebrows. “But, I thought—”
“Because I will take it. I will take you.” He’d imagined them together a million times in his mind, and he’d always thought that he’d seduce her slowly. That he’d savor every inch of her. That he’d have her coming over and over again before he ever drove into her. Because he’d wanted to make everything perfect for her.
If they were perfect together, she’d stay with him.
He wasn’t perfect. Now wasn’t the perfect time.
Now was savagery. Now was madness. Now was—
“You need candlelight,” he rasped. She needed to stop touching him. “You need champagne. You need fucking romance.”
“You’re an expert on what I need?”
He was a freaking expert on all things Blair.
When would she understand that?
“I can’t give you that.” He released a shuddering breath. “I’m too raw. The adrenaline rush was too strong.” It wasn’t just the adrenaline that had cracked his control. It was the fear. Fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect her. Fear that something would happen to Blair—even when she was in his arms. God, she should be safe in his arms. His arms should be the safest place in the world for her.
“I understand an adrenaline rush. I can help you ride it out.”
No. This wasn’t a normal rush. “I want to grab you.” He still didn’t look into her eyes. “I want to strip you naked. I want to thrust into you as deep as I can go. I want you clawing my back as you come—and I want to come in you so hard that I stop feeling so fucking hollow inside.” The hollowness in his heart that told him if anything ever happened to Blair, he’d be a dead man walking.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Blair whispered.
“Because every time I look into your eyes, I lose more of my control. You need to walk away. Now. Please. Just go take the damn shower.”
“Okay.”
Good. Great.
She slipped away. Brushed past him and, yes, he flinched when she touched him. Just the way it was. He wanted her so badly his whole body was too sensitive. Too wild. Too fucking everything.
She padded to the bathroom. The door creaked open. Closed.
He didn’t move.
The water roared on.
In his head, Linc could see Blair untying the top of the red sundress from behind her neck. He could see the fabric falling to pool at her feet. He could see…Her long, bare legs. The curve of her hips. The thrust of her round, pert breasts.
His eyes squeezed shut.
He had to get out of there.
He took a lurching step toward the door.
No. You can’t leave her alone. Not tonight.
He had to get this wrenching need back under control. Had to control the lust that wanted him to take and take and take…His control had to remain until he made sure that Blair was safe.
But, damn, he wanted her scent on him. Wanted his on her. Wanted her wrapped so tightly around him that—
I want to own her. I want her to be mine.
Because he was hers. Had been, hell, from day one. The first day she’d walked up to him with her quick, confident stride. She’d swept her gaze over him, then offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Blair. Your new partner.”
His first thought?
Thank you, Jesus.
He’d taken her hand and had felt the jolt all the way through his body.
She’d smiled.
Linc had been sure the Earth stopped spinning for an instant.
Since then, Blair had been the center of his world, whether she realized that fact or not.
So, yeah, he had to get this shit under control. Before he scared Blair. Before—
A knock sounded at the front door.
What-the-ever-loving-hell?
He stalked forward, his body tense and battle-ready. He yanked the shade Blair had found and pulled down to the side so that he could see—
“Mr. Rutherford?” Martin called. “I have a champagne delivery for you. Champagne and chocolate, courtesy of Natasha Frank.”
Hmm. He could use a drink or twenty.
And in your fantasies, you gave Blair the best champagne in the world. The most expensive. She loved it and she loved—
He cut off the thought and yanked open the door.
Martin held up an ice bucket. “Dom Perignon, a most excellent vintage year of—”
“Put it near the bed.”
Martin huffed and put the champagne on the nightstand.
Linc stood by the door, his body tight.
Martin filed out a moment later. “I’ll be right back with the chocolate.”
He’d left it in his golf cart? Linc waited. His gaze trekked to the bathroom. The door was still closed. The shower water still pounded down.
Blair was still in there, naked, under the spray of water.
Martin appeared again. This time, he held a fancy, covered, silver tray. “The best assortment of chocolates,” he declared proudly. “They will satisfy every desire.”
“Very, very doubtful.” The desire he had could only be satisfied by Blair.
Martin carefully arranged the tray next to the champagne. He even put two flutes on the night stand. Where the hell had he been hiding those?
“You don’t enjoy chocolate?” Martin asked with a frown.
“No. But my wife does.”
“Ah, well, a happy wife…” Martin let the sentence trail off.
Linc stared at him.
Martin rolled his hand in the air. “You know the saying?”
Linc waited. Do I look like I know the saying?
“She’ll lead to a happy life,” Martin concluded.
His life was anything but happy right then. “You need to go.”
Martin nodded. “I am going.” He headed for the door.
Linc shoved a hundred-dollar bill at him. “Thanks for the delivery.”
Martin made the money vanish in a blink.
“And here’s another hundred,” Linc said softly as he lifted his hand and flashed the money between his index and middle fingers. “Because I want you to make sure you start keeping an extra eye on my wife. She’s to stay safe at all times. You keep watching her, and I’ll keep the money flowing, got me?”
The second hundred vanished just as quickly as the first. “Absolutely. Her safety is my priority.”
It had better be.
Linc locked up behind Martin. Sure, the butler might be a suspect, and if he was then Linc had added more to his cover story of being an obsessed husband who wanted his wife watched and protected.
Not obsessed. Doting. I like that word better.
If the butler wasn’t guilty, then Linc had just acquired extra protection for Blair. Win, win.
The bathroom door opened. At the soft sound, Li
nc’s attention immediately snapped to the right. He saw steam slip from the small crack between the opening door and the wooden frame.
I need a drink. Just one.
He strode for the champagne. Had the top exploding off a moment later, and he poured the bubbly into his glass. It foamed up high and spilled over the rim of the flute.
“I’d like some, too,” Blair said from behind him. Did she mean for her voice to sound like pure temptation?
He poured her a glass. Lifted both of the flutes and turned toward her.
She was naked.
“Fuck me.” The flutes dropped from his hands.
“I would very much like to do just that.” Her wet hair slid over her shoulders. “There’s a mess at your feet.”
He looked down. The flutes hadn’t broken, but he’d spilled the champagne. Who the hell cared?
“Um, Linc, do you know just how expensive that particular bottle of—”
He lunged toward her. Caught her in his arms and pulled her against him. He didn’t give a damn about the champagne. Blair was naked, and she wanted him.
He kissed her with a ravenous hunger. A wild, insatiable need.
She kissed him back the same way. Her lips parted beneath his. Her tongue met his eagerly. Her breasts thrust against him. Her nipples were tight and hard and—
He lifted her up. Pushed her shoulders against the nearest wall and put his mouth on her breast. He licked and sucked and she tasted so fucking good.
She moaned, and her hips arched against him. “Linc!”
He couldn’t slow down. He kissed a frantic path to her other breast. The nipple was a sweet pink, and he savaged it with his tongue. Licked it again and again, and her nails sank into his shoulders.
Hell, yes.
He spun her away from the wall. Dropped her onto the bed. Shoved her legs apart, and dammit, he knew he should be slowing down. He knew that he should be using more care. He knew but—
He put his mouth on her sex. Put his mouth on all that pretty pink perfection. He licked her and sucked her and he drove his tongue into her.
Her hips flew off the bed. “Linc!”
She was delicious. So freaking sweet. He licked and sucked and he wanted her to come for him because he knew she’d taste even better when she was coming. When she was screaming his name.
His tongue slid over her clit.
Her whole body jolted.
He licked her again and again. She was wet and hot. The best thing he’d ever had. She was—
“Linc!”
Coming for him. She was coming for him. He kissed and licked her again, loving the taste of her pleasure. So drunk and wild for her, nothing else mattered.
Her hands slid over his shoulders. “I want…you. Inside.”
His tongue had already been inside her. And would be again. Because he wasn’t done. He was addicted to her taste, and he would never have enough. He licked again. Kissed. Sucked.
Then he slid a finger into her. Another. Stretched her slowly.
She was so damn tight.
Have to take her. Need her. Can’t hold back.
There were condoms in the nightstand drawer. He remembered seeing them. Of course, the condoms were there. This was the honeymoon bungalow.
Another taste of her, and he pulled back. He stripped, never taking his eyes from her. How did you look away from the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen? She was sprawled across the covers, her legs spread for him, her breasts thrusting toward him. Her lips were parted—red and perfect—and her gorgeous eyes were on him.
He yanked out a condom. Tore it open. Shoved it on. Headed straight back for the bed. He crawled on top of her, feeling like a savage animal as he fought to hold onto his humanity a little longer.
“Everything…changes,” he told her, gritting out the words. She needed to understand that.
They wouldn’t only be partners after this. He didn’t get to taste paradise and go back to the cold. Fuck, no.
She gave a quick nod.
His cock pushed at the entrance to her body. Everything he’d wanted. Everything—
He drove into her and pretty much lost his damn mind.
Linc definitely lost his control. He felt it shatter. She was tight and hot and perfect. Her legs locked around him, her heels pressed into him, and he was done.
There was no holding back. No trying to go slowly or softly.
His thrusts were wild. Pounding. Driving. The bed rammed into the wall. The filmy curtains fell down. He kept taking. And taking.
Her hands lifted. Her nails raked down his back.
Hell, yes.
His mouth pressed to her throat. He licked. Sucked. Left his mark on her.
She was damn well leaving her mark on him.
He drove harder. Deeper.
She was calling his name again, urging him on, her voice husky and soft, telling him to fuck her, telling him to go harder…
And he did.
His hand pushed between their bodies. Stroked her clit. Worked it over and over, and she came as he drove his cock deep into her. Her inner muscles clamped around him as her climax rocked through her.
His head lifted so he could watch the pleasure on her face. So insanely beautiful.
“Linc…” Her eyes opened. “I want to feel you come in me.”
Primal. The desire was too savage and rough. He grabbed her legs. Lifted them over his shoulders. Had her completely open and vulnerable to him as he took and took and took.
The bed didn’t just bang into the wall. The bed slammed into the wall.
He was wild in his lust. Blinded by his hunger.
“Linc!”
He felt her come again right before he erupted. The climax tore through him. Obliterated him. Pleasure poured and poured through his veins. The release was the best in his whole life.
He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want anything to end. He wanted to fuck her forever.
Fuck her forever.
Hell, yes. That was his new plan.
***
“Uh, yeah, you don’t want to disturb them.” Martin moved into Cole’s path. “Trust me, Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford are occupied right now.”
Cole raked his gaze over the man who was blocking his way. “I’m supposed to be keeping an extra eye on the guests.” He’d met Martin earlier. A chatty fellow. One who’d told Cole how much he enjoyed the big tippers.
“They’re both fine. Way better than fine, I’d say.” He coughed. “Believe me, if you interrupt Mr. Rutherford right now, he will not be happy.” He slapped a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go check on another guest? How about Edward Sharpe?”
“He’s busy, too.” Cole ran a hand over his face. He really had wanted to check in with Blair and Linc and tell them what he’d just seen. Edward and Natasha. Could be the perfect criminal combo. “I’ll just take a quick moment to make certain they are—”
“I guess you’re missing what I’m telling you. So I’ll be blunt. They are in the middle of what sounded like really fucking good sex.”
Cole’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“I went back to their bungalow a few minutes ago. Was going to offer him a selection of cheeses to go with the champagne and chocolate I’d given him.” Cole winced. “Rutherford had given me a dang good tip for my last drop-off, and you want to keep the tips coming, am I right?”
What sounded like really fucking good sex.
“Anyway, I was heading back but then I heard them.” An appreciative whistle. “Damn. I figured she’d be great. You know, sometimes, you can just tell, and that woman had a fire in her eyes that promised she’d be wild in the sheets.”
“He will kick your ass so hard.”
Martin blinked. “What?”
Cole offered him a grim smile. “If Rutherford hears you talking about his wife that way, he will kick your ass.”
Martin straightened. “The day a rich boy kicks my ass is the day that will never happen.”
C
ole stared at him.
“You don’t know me, bro.” Martin shook his head. “I did a tour in Afghanistan.”
“Really? What unit you with?”
Martin cocked his head. “Why the hell do you care?”
“Because I’m former Delta Force, and I like to know who I’m working with.”
“Delta, huh? Nice.”
“We weren’t particularly known as the ‘nice’ guys.” More like the guys who’d gotten shit done. And Martin still hadn’t told him about his unit. “So what were you?”
“Infantry.”
Cole waited.
There was nothing else offered.
“Look, man, I need to get back. It’s late as hell, and we still got that shooter somewhere.” Martin looked over his shoulder. “Guess no place is safe these days. Not even paradise.”
Cole took a risk. “I heard this place is definitely not safe.”
Martin sidled a bit closer. “Who told you that?”
“Who do you think?”
Martin’s breath hissed out. “Georgia is such a lousy gossip. Look, that Vorten woman drowned, and it was terrible, but she shouldn’t have drunk that whole bottle of champagne by herself.”
“What?”
“The champagne. I told Natasha and Dr. Wallace that I’d delivered it to her. She was all sad, sitting in the bungalow alone while her husband was off flirting with someone else’s wife. She drank and drank, and then she must’ve had the idea to go for a swim. Shit. Whole thing was wrong.”
This was a whole new story on Helen Vorten’s death.
Martin sighed. Long and loud. “Seeing her washed up like that the next day? That crap is still in my head.”
There hadn’t been anything in the file about Helen Vorten drinking a whole bottle of champagne. Was that the story the staff was now trying to circulate? To make her death seem like an accident?
“I’ve got to go,” Martin said. “Leave the Rutherfords alone, understand? I’m their butler. I’m watching out for the wife and getting that extra tip.” A laugh. “Like watching her is a hardship.” He hurried toward his golf cart.
Cole stood there and watched him go. You’re going to mess around, dumbass, and Linc will hurt you. You say the wrong shit to him about Blair, and it is over.
The golf cart sped away, heading north.
Cole glanced back at the honeymoon bungalow.