by Laura Kaye
He launched himself in her direction. She squealed and turned for the shore, but Marco was faster and easily caught her around the waist.
She gasped as he dragged her backward into deeper water, almost to the rope line. “Let me go,” she said, laughing.
“Nope. You wanted the lake. I’m making sure you get the lake.”
“It’s too cold. Come on, Marco.” She squirmed and pulled at his arms, giggles spilling out of her.
And damn if she wasn’t rubbing all up against him as she fought. Good thing the water was too frickin’ freezing for regular body function. But Marco’s brain still operated enough to know just how good her body felt in his arms, pressed so tightly against his.
Suddenly the temperature of the water stopped mattering. Marco hardened slowly but surely. By the time they were up to her chest in the water, he was erect, and the sudden catch in her breath made it clear she felt it, too.
She moaned low in her throat. Under his arms, her breaths came faster, shallower. She reclined her head on his shoulder and whispered, “Let me turn around.”
Marco swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
She pressed back against him, dragging a groan from his chest. “Feels like it would be a very good idea. Please. Marco?”
A war erupted between his brain and his body. “Jesus, Aly.” He bent his head, trying to think, and his lips found the stretch of skin where her neck sloped into her shoulder. He kissed her, once, twice, his tongue snaking out to taste the crisp lake water from her skin.
Alyssa inhaled and tilted her head to the side, inviting his exploration.
He couldn’t resist. He licked and kissed up her neck until he reached the soft indentation beneath her ear. He sucked at her there until she was panting in his arms.
She reached back and grasped the material at his hip, using the leverage to pull them together. Marco let out a harsh breath at the sudden friction between his front and her rear. His grip slipped, one arm sliding up to rest under her breasts as he slid the other down to hold her low across the abdomen.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
Oh, God, he had to. He spun them in the water so that they were facing away from shore, out over the broad expanse of the mountain lake. “Aly,” he breathed.
“Please, Marco.” She gripped his hip and brought him firmly against her again.
He gave in, thrusting forward as she pulled, pressing the hard length of his dick against the indent of her soft ass. He cupped her breast and sucked her earlobe into his mouth as the warm weight of her flesh filled his hand.
“Oh,” she said, a soft, plaintive exhalation. She turned her face to his.
Goddamn if the desire shining from her eyes and shaping her lips wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He could read what she wanted in her gaze, but he wasn’t going to make her ask. Not when he wanted the same thing so badly.
One hand cradling her jaw, Marco lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips met softly, tentatively. Soft presses turned into nibbles as they pursued each other again and again. She turned in the circle of his arms, and this time he let her. She wrapped her whole body around him—arms around his neck, legs around his waist.
And Marco was gone.
Chapter Ten
Alyssa couldn’t believe this was happening. Marco Vieri had kissed her, was still kissing her, and it was the most incredible moment of her life. Everything but them disappeared—the water, the people, the mountain, the blue sky. The world narrowed to the two of them and the feel of his soft lips and hard body against hers. He guided the kiss, silently asking her to open to him. She moaned as their tongues touched and swirled. God, he tasted so good, so much better than she’d imagined.
She pulled herself tighter around him, feeling like she could never be close enough. The firm ridge of his erection pressed and nudged between her legs, and soon Alyssa couldn’t help but rub herself against him as they continued to kiss and nibble at each other’s skin. As if his body wasn’t an incredible enough turn-on, kissing Marco revealed an erotic soundtrack of small curses and heated declarations, panting breaths and rumbling groans. Each sound felt like a victory to her and made her want to extract more of them from him.
“Damn, Aly,” he whispered as he tilted his face to the other side. He dove right back into kissing her, deeply and completely. One big hand tangled in her hair, the other slid down until it cupped her butt.
Alyssa rocked her hips into his hard length once, twice, more. Soon, Marco helped guide her movement with the firm grip of his hand on her bottom. The kissing stole her breath, but the friction was making her lose her mind. Slowly, a ball of energy gathered low in her stomach, an incredible pressure that found relief each time she rubbed against him.
He pulled back from their kiss but kept their faces touching, his eyes blazing into hers.
She gasped with every movement of their bodies, suddenly scared of what was about to happen. Power was moving through her, gathering an unstoppable momentum. She met Marco’s gaze, trying to tell him, to warn him.
“God, Alyssa.” He thrust against her, their movements confined by the buoyancy of the water and the others she knew were out there somewhere. “Hold on to me,” he whispered, his hand leaving her hair and joining his other on her butt.
Her mouth dropped open and she held her breath, afraid she’d scream if she didn’t. He pressed against her harder, faster, little movements concentrated exactly where she needed them. “Oh, Mar…co…I’m—”
His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. His tongue penetrated and her body detonated. She moaned into their kiss as sensation ripped through her in concentric circles of pure, hot bliss. She couldn’t stop moving against him, greedy for the feeling to go on and on.
Marco groaned, and the sound captured her attention. She opened her eyes and found his face frozen in the most incredibly erotic expression. Locking her ankles more tightly around him, she pressed herself against him, hating the scraps of fabric separating their bodies but hopeful this was only the start of something beyond her wildest expectations.
“I want you,” she whimpered, taking charge of the kiss this time.
His hands clamped down on her flesh as his lower body jerked against her. He groaned his release into their kiss, which was all passion and pleasure. She’d been with one other man in college, but nothing had prepared her for the ecstatic fulfillment of making love to Marco.
Did he think that’s what this was? She didn’t know, but surely the fact he wasn’t fighting the chemistry between them anymore was a step in the right direction.
He stroked her hair as his kiss softened. She felt cherished, wanted, safe in his arms. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, face relaxed. He was so beautiful.
And she loved him more than words could say.
She kissed his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered simply. “That was incredible.”
He kissed her ear. “I’m speechless, Aly. ‘Incredible’ doesn’t cut it.”
She grinned. “Do you think anyone noticed we were out here so long?”
“I hope so,” he said. “Maybe the guys will all take a hint now.”
She scoffed. “What does that mean?”
“Only that they all suspect you’re as great as I know you are. Come on, I’m starving now.” He gave her a last kiss, grasped her hand, and led her through the deeper water back to shore.
Alyssa felt like she could’ve lit up a small city with her happiness. That things still felt normal and easy between them was everything she’d hoped.
He reached their towels first and tossed her shirt at her. “Put this on, will ya?”
She made a face at him. “I’m all wet.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, a smug smile on his face.The expression was sexy as hell, not that she was going to tell him that.
“I need to get something from the car. Be right back.” He kissed her cheek, a quick brush of lips
on skin that sent her heart flying.
She gently shook the sand out of her towel, glad the sun could explain away the heat suddenly infusing her cheeks, then dried off enough to slip the shirt on over her suit.
He bumped arms with her when he returned, the hint of a crooked smile on his lips.
She gestured to her shirt. “Better?”
He grinned, and it was that old Marco smile she loved. “For my sanity? Yes.”
She held out a hand to him. “Come on, funny man, let’s eat.”
…
Marco spent the dinner service riding an emotional roller coaster. Acting on whatever his feelings were for Alyssa had taken him into the heavens. She was passionate and honest, giving and playful. Totally open to life and experience, willing to try anything, do anything. Her very presence was both exhilarating and comforting. And if making out in the water had been that explosive, he could only imagine what it would be like to take her to his bed.
But then his conscience told him it should never have happened. Jesus, he’d behaved like a horny teenager without a care in the world, and he’d had to hightail it over to Betty to clean up the mess afterward. It could never happen again. And that was a double kick in the gut because of the way Alyssa had been looking at him since the moment they’d gotten out of the water. And everybody they worked with saw it.
By the end of the night, Marco had just about talked himself down from his high, and his heart felt darker than normal for having had the fleeting experience of happiness in her arms. He followed her home like he always did but kept on driving when she pulled in front of the house. God, he didn’t even know what she might be expecting at this point, but he was sure it wasn’t his usual disappearing act. He imagined her disappointment and anger and mirrored those emotions back at himself. He’d definitely made things worse.
Marco merged onto the interstate with no particular destination in mind. He just needed the distraction of speed and the roar of the wind through the car. He analyzed the situation from every conceivable angle but the amazing chemistry and connection between them did nothing to fix all the reasons being with her was so wrong. Foremost among them was that the weight of his guilt, his grief, his self-loathing—his living hell—would ruin her. And he could never inflict such emotional violence on someone as innocent and trusting as Alyssa Scott.
And then it struck him. What if she never had to know?
The thought was such a revelation that Marco had to pull off at the next exit. On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, he paced back and forth in the glow of the Mustang’s headlights. Maybe he could give her the Marco she wanted, the Marco he used to be.
She didn’t have to know the details of what happened in Afghanistan, nor how it had shredded him inside. He didn’t have to share the disappointment and fear and loss that flowed through his veins. He could be the Marco he’d been at the lake today, laid-back and social and affectionate. He wouldn’t have to act to convince her of those things, either. Alyssa made him want to be better, want to be everything, for her. Remembering the return of decent sleep and the decline in frequency of his nightmares, Marco was willing to believe that, before too long, the other parts of him might begin to heal as well. And then maybe he wouldn’t have to act at all.
The problem of Brady’s approval flitted through his mind, but Marco was suddenly so high on hope and relief that he easily pushed the concern away.
Back in the car again, Marco barreled out onto the highway and gunned it for home. Now that he’d found a way to let himself have the comfort and pleasure of Alyssa’s love, he couldn’t stand being separated from her. It took forever to retrace the twenty miles he’d aimlessly driven, but before long he was parking the car, running up the front steps, and coming home to his Alyssa.
The house was quiet. His stomach dropped in disappointment. It was pushing two o’clock in the morning, but that didn’t diminish his yearning to hold and touch her. He stepped into her room—perhaps soon to be their room—and seriously considered waking her. When had he last felt this rush of anticipation and contentment?
Alyssa lay sleeping on her stomach, her face toward him. He stroked silky strands of hair off her face, but she didn’t stir. And then he remembered the dark circles, and her bloodshot eyes.
Guilt pooled in his gut. She’d finally managed the good, restful sleep she’d needed this past week. No way he could wake her, no matter how eager he was to claim her as his own.
Morning was only a few hours away. He’d just have to wait.
Resolved, he made quick work of changing and preparing his bed, but he found himself too keyed up to contemplate laying down and being still. He returned to the kitchen for a bottle of water and the blinking red light on the answering machine caught his attention. He adjusted the volume and hit play.
Brady. Calling via the world’s worst telephone connection. The majority of the short message was too soft or too crackly to understand, and Marco couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Nuh uh. Not a chance, world. If he could find a way to work around the gigantic mess inside his head, he could find a way to win over Brady. Hell, if he played this right, he’d be able to prove to Brady that he deserved her. That he was worthy.
Marco’s stomach gave a nervous twinge at the thought of going around his best friend, but he just took a long swig of water and decided not to think too closely about its meaning.
He eventually gave in to the lure of sleep and collapsed on the futon. He turned this way and that, fought with the covers, and couldn’t seem to find a position where his arm didn’t ache. Goddammit.
Once he managed to drift off, he found himself right back in his own special corner of hell. The compound was typical. Mud walls surrounded an outer court. The house inside was square, also built of mud. In the very center would be an interior court where the women worked. The traditional nature of the housing made it more predictable.
Something about the yard bothered him, but it was just nerves. His intelligence was good. Checked and double-checked. Months of work had gone into this moment, but it would be worth it when Wentworth was back with them where he belonged. Undercover missions were so damn iffy, and Wentworth had stayed at it a day too long. Their team was about to fix that.
Unease sank through his gut. He couldn’t place his finger on the source of his discomfort. Probably just the adrenaline rush. Or the anticipation of doing the job. Or the sweltering sun.
The twelve-man team moved in, Brady just behind Marco. Over the ridge. Behind scrub. Into a ditch. They met no resistance.
His heart sprinted in his chest.
No. Nonono. Marco thrashed, cursing himself.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Marco frowned, then gasped. Alyssa. Alyssa was…here? His gaze tore across the scrub to the compound. Oh, no. Oh, God, no. She couldn’t be in there.
“Alyssa,” he called. If he didn’t stay quiet, they’d hear him, but he couldn’t restrain himself. If anything happened to her…
“I’m right here, Marco. You’re all right.” Her cool, soft hand stroked over his brow and into his hair.
Marco turned toward the touch, completely confused about how he could be feeling her, but needing her like a starving man needs a buffet.
The compound disappeared, and there was only that soothing touch. And then that, too, disappeared.
Marco didn’t want to wake up. When it had finally come, the sleep had been so damn good, he wanted as much of it as his body would give him. He turned onto his side, encountering a delicious warmth that called to him until he craved more. His fingers found skin and in his mind’s eye, he smiled. Oh, yeah. He liked this kind of dream a helluva lot more.
Something tickled his nose. And again. He wanted to brush it away but couldn’t move his hand. What the hell?
His eyes creaked open and for a long moment, Marco was unable to figure out where he was or…who he was with. A pile of long chocolate hair brushed his stomach and covered one hand. His other was�
��
“Alyssa?” He shook her. “Aly?” He raised his voice. “Aly!”
Alyssa flew into a sitting position and struggled to focus her gaze in the early morning light. Her hair fell over her face and she pushed it back. Oh, crap. How the heck was she going to explain this?
An array of emotions whipped across Marco’s face too quickly for her to decipher. “What do you think you’re doing?” The words came out in a clipped staccato.
She opened and closed her mouth, unable to find an explanation he’d believe, one that wouldn’t reveal what she knew. “I, uh…” Her eyes skittered around him, avoiding the blazing blue of his gaze. “I’ll just—” She withdrew her hand from his.
Marco grabbed it, his fingers holding her wrist. “No. Not before you tell me why you were…what? Sleeping half on the floor…with me?” He tripped over the final two words.
“I…I…don’t know. It’s no big deal.” She attempted a smile that felt completely unconvincing.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s not a big deal?” He studied her like he might find the answer on her face.
Alyssa looked away, busying herself with stretching out her legs. Her right calf was half asleep from how she’d been sitting on it. Or, rather, how long she’d been sitting on it. Way to go, Aly. You knew you couldn’t fall asleep.
He pressed a finger against the red mark on her calf. Alyssa gasped as the pressure exacerbated the pins and needles.
He sucked in a breath. “You’re why…”
She chanced a glance. He gaped down at her, an expression that was part disgust and part anger twisting his face. Maybe she was dealing with this the wrong way. She should just be honest and have the conversation she’d wanted to have these past few days. “Look, Marco, it’s okay.”
“That’s what you said in my d-dr—” He flew off the futon and glared down at her. “You had no fucking right.”
Alyssa felt the blood drain from her face and she went lightheaded. Never in her entire life had Marco Vieri talked to or looked at her that way. Like he couldn’t stand the sight of her. She pushed herself to sit on the futon, not yet able to stand while the room spun around her but not wanting to sit on the floor for this, either. “Marco—”