Crossing the Line

by Cynthia Eden

  What sounded like really fucking good sex.

  Nope, he wasn’t about to interrupt. After all, he didn’t want Linc kicking his ass, either.

  Chapter Nine

  Three orgasms. Holy hell, she’d just had three orgasms. Blair’s breath heaved in and out as she stared up at the sagging sheer curtains near the top of the bed. Maybe her body had been over primed. It had been way too long since she’d had sex. Like…

  Before meeting Linc long.

  Because, while she’d casually dated a few guys since Linc, things hadn’t ever gotten past the kissing stage. Mostly due to the fact that when she kissed them, she thought of Linc.

  And when she thought of doing anything but kissing those guys…

  Linc popped into her mind, and she imagined all the things she really wanted to do with him. Only him.

  So, no, she didn’t think her body had been thrown into an orgasmic frenzy—was that a thing?—because she’d been celibate. Blair thought she’d been rocked by pleasure because she’d been with Linc. The man she wanted most.

  The sex had been phenomenal. The best ever.

  She was still trembling.

  Her heart was still racing.

  But her legs weren’t thrown over his shoulders any longer. They were resting against the bed. He was sprawled beside her, with one arm tossed over her stomach, as if to hold her in place.

  Did it look like she was ready to hop up and run anywhere? No, she was absolutely fine exactly where she was. Good for the night.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said even as she decided that she would never, ever move again. She’d just hang out there. Forget crime solving and working for Wilde.

  Well, no, she couldn’t do that, but…

  He pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder. “Got to ditch the condom.”

  Yes, because they’d just had sex. Incredible, fantastic sex. And he’d gone down on her. She’d come against his mouth while he’d licked her clit and then driven his tongue into her—

  His fingers slid over her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

  When he came back, she should figure out something to say.

  “There’s some chocolate under that silver lid. Martin said it’s supposed to be fantastic.”

  Chocolate? Her ears perked up. Blair pushed herself into a sitting position. Reached for the chocolate.

  “But, as far as I’m concerned…” He paused—all naked and sexy—near the bathroom door. “Nothing could taste better than you.”

  She could feel her cheeks burning. Yep, there would be no going back after this. “We’re going to have to fill out that HR form.” The one that said they were involved in a consensual relationship. The one that would make everything official. The one that would—

  He stared at her. “You’re ready to tell everyone about us?”

  The one that would make whatever relationship they had known to everyone at Wilde.

  She blinked at him.

  “You look terrified.” He smiled at her. “Hold the thought, and I’ll be right back.”

  He shut the door.

  She heard water running as she savored a quick piece of chocolate. Chocolate always helped with stress. And she wasn’t terrified. Not at all.

  She was just…

  What relationship did they have? Partners with benefits?

  Her fingers snaked another piece of chocolate. It was truly melt-in-your mouth good. Surely a third piece wouldn’t hurt anything…

  The door opened. He stalked toward her. Grabbed the curtains that had fallen onto the bed—yes, they had wrecked the bed—and tossed them to the floor. Linc cocked his head as he stared at her. “Do that often?”

  Wait, what was he asking about? She swallowed down the chocolate. “Do what?” Did he mean hook up with guys? Her eyes narrowed at the thought because he had better not be—

  “Break beds when you have sex. Because I thought you were just bragging before, when we first came into the bungalow and you told me that as newlyweds, we were supposed to be ‘having wild, bed-breaking sex.’”

  She’d said that? “Uh, no. It doesn’t happen a lot.”

  He slid into the bed next to her. “Nice to know I’m special.”

  She put her hand on his chest. He was warm and strong and muscled and—

  Focus. She licked her lower lip. “I don’t do this a lot.”

  “You don’t break beds a lot. Okay. Got you.”

  “I don’t…hook up with guys.”

  His hand lifted. Curved under her chin. “I know you, B.”

  He was her partner, so, yes, he knew plenty about her, but… “Casual sex isn’t my thing.”

  He leaned forward. Brushed his lips over hers. “Since when…” His voice deepened. Roughened. “Is anything between us casual?”

  Her breath caught at his words.

  If they weren’t casual, what were they?”

  “The chocolate is good. Or maybe…maybe it’s just your mouth that’s good.”

  He’d eased back, and she couldn’t look away from him. “You should try the chocolate. See if you taste a difference.” Her hand fumbled. Reached out. She got a piece of the decadent chocolate for him. Held it to his lips.

  His mouth opened. He took the chocolate. His tongue licked over her fingers.

  Oh, oh, yes, I like that.

  She felt a hum of sensual energy pulse through her. “Try another.” She swallowed. Reached for another piece.

  His lips parted. He took the chocolate. His tongue licked over her index finger. She let her hand linger against his mouth.

  “Delicious.” His deep voice sank through her. “Oh, wait, I think there’s some on your finger.” He licked her finger again.

  That man’s tongue…

  She thought about the way he’d licked her. Everywhere.

  “The chocolate is good,” he growled. “But you’re better.”

  Her lips curled. Her heart thudded into her chest.

  “I want to fuck you again.”

  She thought that sounded like a wonderful idea. Brilliant. His best idea ever.

  “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  His body seemed to tense against her. “I’d never want to hurt you, baby. Not you. Not in any way.”

  The drumbeat of her heart seemed extra loud. And…

  Slower?

  Her lashes drooped a bit.

  A warm laugh escaped Linc. “You’re falling asleep on me.”

  No…she wasn’t.

  She was up for another round. Lots more rounds…wasn’t she?

  “It’s okay,” Linc told her as he eased down in the bed and cuddled close with her. “You good with us sharing the bed again tonight?”

  She tried to nod, but even that movement was hard. A heavy lethargy was sweeping over her, and as that warm darkness covered her like a blanket, alarm began to rise in the back of her mind.

  She shouldn’t be this tired. She was never this tired.

  He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Rest, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Something was wrong with her. Blair tried to lift her hand to him, but could barely get her fingers to flutter.

  He stroked her hand soothingly, and she saw him yawn, too. “It’s okay,” he said.

  Had his words been slurred?

  “I’ve got you,” Linc added. “You’ll be safe…”

  She couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wanted to speak to him. To tell him that something felt wrong.

  “In my arms…”

  But she couldn’t speak. A heavy darkness was pulling her under even as alarm bells rang in her head. This horrible, sinking feeling was terrifyingly familiar to her. It had been a while—years—since she felt this way. But she remembered the heavy weight. Remembered the darkness. Remembered exactly what it felt like…

  To be drugged.

  Linc! In her mind, she was screaming his name, but no sound slipped past her lips. In those last few moments, Blair tr
ied to figure out when it had happened. Tried to figure out when she could possibly have gotten the drugs and—

  The world slipped away from her.

  ***

  “Get her.”

  Blair struggled to open her eyes.

  “Tie her wrists together.”

  Rope scratched against her skin.

  “What about him?” The voice was low. Whispery.

  “He’s out cold. When he wakes up, then we’ll deal with him.” That other voice—it came in and out, all distorted.

  Blair felt someone yanking her up. A gasp tumbled from her lips.

  “Is that bitch awake?”

  She tried to crack open one eye.

  Couldn’t. Her head fell back.

  Laughter. “No. She won’t be awake, not until she’s long gone from here.”

  She was being moved. Someone was lifting her. Dragging her up and—

  She lost time for a bit. Fell into the darkness again until she felt wind blowing over her whole body. She was moving once more. No, no, she wasn’t moving. At least, not on her own. Her body was being carried? Yes, she was bumping against something. And there was pressure against her stomach as if…

  Was she thrown across someone’s shoulder?

  Her lips parted. A groan slipped from her. Her hands twisted, and her rings—the engagement ring with the gorgeous diamond that Linc had given to her—scraped over her abductor’s back. She twisted her hand, and her nails clawed at him. Right along his lower back because that was where she—

  “Ow! I think she cut me.” A curse. “She is waking up!”

  No, she wasn’t. Her consciousness was slipping in and out. Mostly out.

  “Maybe she didn’t eat enough of the chocolates. Thought she’d freaking pig out on them!”

  The chocolates?

  The chocolates had been…

  She couldn’t connect her thoughts. Couldn’t hold on to anything as she felt her body being dumped. She fell down. Hit something and—

  Darkness.

  ***

  Sunlight trickled through the open front door. The waves crashed against the beach, and the steady roar of the ocean slowly pulled him from sleep.

  Linc stretched. Sleep wanted to cling to him, trying to tug him back under, but he knew there was something he was supposed to do.

  What the hell am I supposed to do?

  His eyes opened. He stared up at the ceiling, bleary, a little lost. Damn. He’d slept like the dead. His body had that heavy stiffness that told him that he probably had barely moved at all once his eyes had closed.

  But before they’d closed, he and Blair had—

  Blair.

  His head turned to the right.

  Her side of the bed was empty. He reached out and touched her pillow. Caught the faintest scent of candy apples.

  I had sex with Blair.

  That fucking part of the night was definitely burned into his mind. He’d been out of control, wild for her, and he’d had sex with Blair. Major life goal achieved.

  Then, apparently, he’d fallen into the sleep of the dead on her.

  Not so cool.

  He pushed up. Swallowed. Damn. His throat was desert dry. “Blair?” Maybe she was in the bathroom—

  Why is the front door open?

  He was thinking a bit too slowly. Like his neurons or some shit weren’t fully firing in his brain yet. Like he needed about a dozen cups of coffee to shake off the heavy fog of sleep.

  The front door is open…probably because Blair is outside.

  He stumbled from the bed. Seriously, stumbled. For a minute, his knees almost buckled. He was too stiff. It seemed to take forever before he made it to the bathroom. Linc splashed some water on his face. Brushed his teeth. Looked in the mirror and winced.

  Yeah, I look like warm death.

  The stubble on his jaw a little too thick. His hair was tousled and too wild. He shoved his fingers through the mess in a vain attempt to try and calm the mane. Then he jerked on a pair of jogging pants and headed outside of the bungalow. The bright sun blinded him, and he lifted a hand against its light, wincing as he felt more than a bit like a vampire.

  A dull ache pounded in his temples.

  If he didn’t know better, Linc would think he was hungover.

  But I didn’t drink the champagne. I dropped the glasses because Blair was naked and she walked toward me.

  So he couldn’t be hungover.

  His gaze turned to the left. The empty stretch of beach stared back at him.

  He turned to the right. In the distance, he could see dark clouds growing. Sliding closer and closer. He even caught the flash of lightning. The storm Natasha had warned him about? Must be arriving later than she’d said. The sun was sliding up in the sky, so definitely past dawn. For a moment, suspicion nagged at him. Had Natasha lied about the time of the storm’s arrival? Or had the weather just been delayed?

  He eased down the wooden steps. His toes curled into the sand. Maybe Blair was out doing recon work, like she’d been doing the previous day. She could even be checking in on Edward again, though Linc hoped she was keeping her distance from the thief.

  Maybe he should go out. Do a sweep of the island and check on her. After that shot from last night, it just wasn’t a good idea for her to be running around without backup.

  Okay, fine, so I just want to see her. I know Blair can take care of herself.

  He did know that. He just…

  Linc headed back inside.

  Something was off. Something was nagging at him.

  I feel hungover, but I didn’t drink any of the champagne.

  The champagne.

  That was what was off. The champagne wasn’t on the nightstand. The glasses he’d dropped weren’t on the floor. The champagne was gone. The silver tray and the chocolates were gone.

  What in the hell?

  He rushed forward. Grabbed the walkie-talkie. A moment later, he had Martin crackling in his ear. “I want to see you,” Linc barked to him. “Now.”

  Because he damn well didn’t want to grill the guy over the walkie-talkie.

  The morning doesn’t feel right. His instincts were waking up—slowly. Everything felt muted, and Linc knew he still wasn’t putting things together fast enough in his mind.

  Concentrate. Think this through.

  He headed back outside. Once more, he swept the beach with his gaze as he searched for Blair.

  She wasn’t there. Just miles and miles of pure, pristine—

  That’s it.

  That was what bothered him. There were no footprints near their bungalow. Not on that sandy beach. When he’d gone after Blair the previous day, he’d followed her footprints. They’d started near the steps of the honeymoon bungalow, then they’d skirted along the waterline. It had been easy to follow her.

  There were no footprints this morning.

  Blair wasn’t out running on the beach.

  His head turned. He could hear the approach of a golf cart. If Blair wasn’t on the beach, then she must have followed the shell path that led behind the bungalow. He hurried down that path.

  Martin was just arriving. He braked the golf cart. Beamed at Linc. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He jumped off the cart. “Nice to see you up and about this time—”

  This time?

  Linc grabbed Martin by his blue shirt-front. “You were in the bungalow this morning.”

  “Yes.” Martin nodded. “Came by to deliver breakfast, but you were snoozing soundly.”

  Snoozing soundly?

  “So I removed the champagne and chocolates and I left you to your sleep.”

  “You unlocked my door and you came in—”

  “Uh, no.” Martin frowned. Glanced down at Linc’s hands on his shirt. “The door was open. Probably because your wife had gone out for a walk. So I simply came inside and—”

  Linc shoved him against the side of the golf cart. Hard. “What the hell do you mean, my wife had gone out for a walk?”

 
“I’ll need you to remove your hands from—”

  Linc let him go, but didn’t back up. “You do not want to push me right now.” His heart pounded like a desperate drum. “When were you in my bungalow?”

  “I told you…for breakfast—”

  “How long ago?”

  Martin squinted down at his watch. “Probably about two hours ago. Yes, yes, it was eight then, and it’s ten now so—”

  “It’s ten fucking o’clock?”

  Martin nodded.

  “And you were in my bungalow this morning?”

  A sigh. “Yes. You were sprawled out, sleeping quite happily, and I just—”

  “I didn’t wake up when you came in the bungalow.”

  Martin’s squinty stare turned to him. “You feeling okay this morning?”

  “No.” He couldn’t have slept through the guy walking into the bungalow and collecting the champagne. And the chocolate tray. “Two hours ago.” The throbbing in his temples was worse. “Blair was gone two hours ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know she was on a walk?”

  “Well…” Martin faltered. “Where else would she be?”

  Where else, indeed? His gut had knotted and his muscles were aching from strain because his body was so tight. “She’s not back yet.”

  A furrow appeared between Martin’s eyebrows. “Maybe she’s on a…long walk?”

  His hands were fists. “I want you to get on your walkie-talkie, and I want you to call all of your buddies on the island. I want to know if anyone can find my wife.” Desperation clawed at him, but he held his shit together and he tried to think.

  Dammit, his mind just wasn’t working right and—

  “Sonofabitch,” Linc snarled.

  Martin stiffened. “There is no need for name calling. I will get on the walkie-talkie, and I will help you to find your—”

  Linc backed up. Shook his head. “I slept through you walking into the bungalow.”

  “Ah, yes, we covered that—”

  “My throat was as dry as a freaking desert when I woke up this morning.”

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that and perhaps I could provide you with some cold—”

  “The sun was too bright. My body was too slow to move.”

  “All…right?” Martin scrunched up his face. “I’m just not sure I understand what—”