by C. C. Gibbs
“Feel better now? It always works for me.”
Panting, she nodded. “How—did you—know?”
How could he not? She’d been on edge all day. “Years of practice, pussycat. I know frustration up close and personal. I’d say welcome to my world, but I want a better world for you.”
“For us,” she said, softly, when she knew better and he knew better and even if she didn’t know gambling odds, she knew theirs weren’t good.
“Yup,” he said, because that’s what he wanted too and he wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable right now. Pulling her close, he held her gently in his arms. “It’s gonna be nothing but good times.” He bent his head so their eyes were level. “Starting now.” He smiled and changed the subject. “Because you’re going to tell me what to do and I’m going to do it.”
Calling on her independent, take-charge-kind-of-woman psyche, she rose to the occasion and replied to the change of subject with a grin. “Anything? You sure?”
“Jesus, you look at me like that and I’m thinking I’d better say, ‘Anything within reason.’”
She giggled. “So you have boundaries after all?”
He wasn’t in the habit of letting people get close, so he had tons of boundaries. “A few,” he said mildly and then his smile flashed. “So don’t go crazy.”
“Okay, I’ll make it easy for you. Give me lots and lots of kisses.” She noticed his faint unease. “Or, if that’s too personal, romantic, whatever, forget it.”
“No, sounds good to me.” A quick smile. Reassuring. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
And her moment of indecision evaporated.
It was a delicate dance that afternoon; both were on their best behavior, neither quite sure whether sharing or not sharing their feelings was better in the highly charged atmosphere. Although Rafe’s decision was simpler. No. That was one of his boundaries.
Nicole, on the other hand, had to have a serious conversation with herself. Count your blessings, she told herself. Rafe doesn’t have to explain every nuanced feeling. He’s here. He loves you. You love him. The rest was marginally unworkable. So don’t take on the impossible. Then her mini-therapy session abruptly ended because Rafe placed her in the center of his bed, lay down beside her, unsnapped her bikini top and lifted it away.
“Kisses everywhere, right?” he said with a smile, sliding a fingertip over her nipple, watching it spring to life. “How’s that sound?” It was a rhetorical question; he’d already bent low, taken her nipple into his mouth, and assumed her low purr was a positive response. Cupping the outside curve of her breast in his palm, he brought the soft, mounded flesh closer, drew her nipple deeper into his mouth, and sucked and licked and nibbled with exquisite slowness and pussy-wetting pressure, eventually repeating the process with her other nipple, offering her a tantalizing version of kissing that sent streak after streak of pure flame downward to her throbbing core and soon had her desperately panting. Raising his head, he waited for what he knew would be a fraction of a second before her eyes snapped open.
“Hey!”
Nothing indecisive in his darling’s tone or her impatient gaze. Direct and avaricious; he knew the feeling. He had from the first with her. “Feel like an orgasm from kisses? That okay with you?”
But he was already pulling her bikini bottom down her legs and she found herself smiling despite her frustration as he tossed it aside. “Does my answer matter?”
“Of course,” he said politely, spreading her legs and settling between them with an effortless grace. Sliding his hands under her bottom, he raised her slightly and began kissing his way up her inner thigh.
Hot desire washed over her in a lustful wave and her lashes drifted downward at the first melting rush. His mouth was warm on her skin, causing the faintest ripple of sensation, and she shivered as his trail of kisses slowly rose higher. “How do you always know what I want?” she whispered.
“I pay attention, pussycat.” And everything turns you on. But he didn’t say that.
She probably wouldn’t have heard him if he had spoken because his voice was vibrating against her skin with a shimmering warmth as he gently opened her soft folds with a small back and forth movement of his mouth. And a moment later, when he tongued her pulsing clit with deft finesse, her focus immediately centered on pure sensation, frenzied nerve endings, and a rapidly approaching orgasm.
Glancing up, he saw the pink flush rising on her throat and cheeks, eased back fractionally, and said, “Not yet, okay? Wait.”
She heard him that time, but the pink glow of nirvana was lighting up every erogenous zone in her body, so she grabbed handfuls of his hair instead and pulled his mouth closer.
It was all well and good to be assertive if she hadn’t been dealing with a man whose sexual skill set was world class. A man who knew how to keep her just short of orgasm, how to forestall each peaking climax, and how to bring her back up again, slowly, teasingly licking and nibbling her clit, gently massaging her G-spot with his talented tongue, only to leave her hovering incomplete, throbbing, and ravenous each time.
“That’s it,” she finally gasped, twining her fingers more firmly in his hair. “I’m coming and if you dare move you’re going to lose some hair.”
He did move though because, hair loss or not, he didn’t take orders. Pulling back, he lifted his head and looked up past her smooth stomach and lush boobs to meet her laser-sharp gaze. He suddenly smiled. “Ready then?”
She gave him a don’t-fuck-with-me look.
A look that had only ever worked with her; a look that reminded him that the world worked in mysterious ways. “Let me apologize,” he said, sweet as hell.
“You know how you can apolog—”
He did. Perfectly. Coming up on his knees, putting his dick right on target, and entering her no-hands, smooth as silk, deep, then deeper still to that outrageous, fanatical point that instantly triggered her explosive orgasm, a hysterical scream, and a grunt of satisfaction from Rafe.
But before Nicole had even caught her breath after her long-delayed orgasm and could consider offering Rafe her dreams-really-come-true thanks, he was moving inside her again, cramming her so full her brain and body instantly lit up in wild, insatiable accord. She whimpered, then sobbed, as blazing-hot rapture melted through her at warp speed.
Capturing her hips, Rafe splayed his fingers wide and, flexing his legs, drove in deeper. With a gasp, eyes closed, she ground herself against his hard, stiff length, ravenous and frantic.
Both were testing the limits of orgasmic bliss to blot out cold reality, their priorities in sync.
But Rafe said, “You can stop me anytime,” because he wasn’t in the mood to stop and he wanted her to know she could.
“Later,” Nicole panted.
“You heard me, right? Tell me you heard me.” For a man who prided himself on control, he was seriously out of control.
“Yes, stop you, I heard, not now though,” she murmured in a breathless rush, wrapping her legs around his waist and clamping down hard.
He was the last person in the world to believe in mystic principle, but at that moment he almost smiled because they’d somehow found each other in the vast anonymity of the world. “We’re lucky,” he whispered.
She was either clairvoyant or on the same mystical wave length because she whispered back, “Fate.”
“We agree on unbridled orgasms too.”
“Soon I hope.”
He chuckled and hitched her closer. “How about right the fuck now?” But he rolled back on his knees just to tease her—grinned at her shriek of dismay—then gave her what she wanted: multiple, tempestuous, wild, glorious, screaming orgasms. There were some less vocal ones for him as well before she finally gasped, “Stop, stop, stop…”
He nodded and, braced on his elbows, tried to catch his breath.
His phone suddenly rang.
He recognized the ring tone. “Give me a second,” he murmured and, rolling off Nicole, he g
rabbed two towels from the bedside table, dropped one between her legs, quickly wiped himself off, sat up, and reached for his cell phone. With Nicole in earshot, he answered cautiously. “Yes?”
“I’m in Split,” Dominic said crisply. “I’ve come for Nicole. It has nothing to do with you. Nicole’s sister was in a bad car accident. She survived, others didn’t, but they don’t know whether she’ll live. I need you to alert your men that my chopper’s coming in. Fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Rafe said, blank-faced, as a chop of pain went through him. For Nicole, for them.
“Is Nicole’s phone on? I’ll call her next.”
Rafe glanced at Nicole, saw her watching him, and said, “Yes.”
“Help her out.”
“Of course.”
A second after Rafe ended his call, Nicole’s cell rang. Even before she answered it, she knew something was wrong because Rafe picked up her iPhone from the table and without looking at the caller ID, handed it to her.
Sitting up, she put the phone to her ear, then didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Just listened. With a final nod, as though in answer to something, she handed her phone back to Rafe.
“She’ll be ready,” Rafe said.
“Did she hear me?” Dominic asked.
“I don’t know.” Nicole was staring into space, barely breathing, her hands palm up in her lap as if dropped there and forgotten. “Gotta go.” Tossing the phone on the table, Rafe picked up Nicole, carefully placed her on his lap, and wrapped his arms around her gently. She was cool to the touch, utterly still, in shock. He’d just decided to call one of his doctors when Nicole looked up, her gaze unfocused. “I sent Isabelle a message.” Her voice melted away in a whisper. “She heard me. She’s going to be fine.”
“I’m glad,” Rafe said softly, pulling her closer, pressing his cheek against hers as if he could give her his warmth. “If she answered you that means she’s getting better. You know what though? We should go to the house and get dressed.” He’d have Alexei look at her, see if she needed medication. “There’s not much time.”
Her eyes widened and she looked at him, actually saw him. “Why isn’t there time?”
“Your uncle’s coming in from Split. He’s going to land in a few minutes. Didn’t he tell you that?”
A tiny catch of her breath. “Did he? I don’t remember.”
Rafe spoke in an even, hushed tone, not sure of her reaction. “I’m guessing he did. So you have to get ready. What do you need?”
Nicole’s eyes flicked up. “You.”
He put his palm to her face, bent low, and brushed her lips with a kiss. “You have me, pussycat. Always.” He let out a long breath and his thumb moved just a little on her cheek. “I meant do you need anything packed?” Their clothes had been moved to the palazzo.
She shook her head.
He glanced at her, wondered if there might be some staff close by so he could send them to fetch her clothes, remembered they had orders not to be around, and softly swore.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. We should probably get back to the palazzo.”
“Aren’t we there?”
He was seriously out of his depth. “Give me a second to make a phone call.” He needed a professional opinion; he’d have Alexei come to the tower room.
“Dominic just called.”
He turned his head, his phone in his hand. “You remember that, yeah?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Her voice shifted up a gear, her brows arched. “He said Isabelle was in a bad car accident. He’s coming to get me. But I told you she’ll be fine. I said that, right?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” He set his phone back on the table. “I’m glad she’s going to be okay. Good news.” His baby was in shock, still loopy, but half there now; better than not there at all. He’d take it. “You know, you should get some clothes on before your uncle gets here. Or I could have someone pack a few things for you.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll be back soon. Isabelle is strong.”
He wasn’t about to bring up the Geneva attack, the ostensible reason his life was hectic of late or that he might not be on the island much longer. “We’ll get a jacket and slacks at least,” he said, giving her a little smile. “How about I take you back to the house and we’ll see if there’s anything else you need?” Coming to his feet, he set her on the bed, pulled on his shorts, wrapped a sheet around Nicole, lifted her into his arms, and walked toward the door.
Nicole caught hold of Rafe’s arm, staring up at him. “You’re not trying to get rid of me are you?”
“God no!” His expression of surprise quickly turned to affection. “Hey, no way.”
She lifted her left hand. “You sure? You want your ring back?”
“Jesus, Tiger, I couldn’t be more sure.” He stopped at the door. “We’re engaged. You better not be changing your mind.”
Her smile was unimaginably fragile. “I won’t. Just checking on you.”
“There’s nothing to check. You’re my girl. Now, tomorrow, next week, next month to infinity, okay?” He dipped his head, gave the bridge of her nose a brushing kiss, then opened the door and moved down the steps. “Know what? Why don’t you and Isabelle talk about our wedding while you’re home? That’ll give you something to do while she’s recuperating.” This wasn’t the time to deal with the harsh facts of life and the uncertain future. Nicole was just returning from some frightening place; she needed a distraction. “Whatever kind of wedding you want is fine with me.”
“I want a small wedding,” Nicole said. “Nothing fancy.”
“Great.” He shot her a grin. “Just you and me.”
She smiled. “Good try. But I have friends, you have friends, there’s family. And Isabelle has always talked about a wedding on horseback or scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef, or a hot air balloon wedding in Napa. She’s into theater.”
Rafe laughed. “Whatever. Just tell me when to be there.” There was something to be said for pure fantasy. It beat reality, with Nicole’s sister on life support, him facing a war zone, and the possibility they might never see each other again all too fucking real.
Feeling a swift, painful pang of despair, he came to a sudden stop as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Shifting Nicole higher in his arms, he fixed his hooded gaze on her from very close range and said softly, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Her arms tightened around his neck, the blaze in his amber eyes spreading a life-giving warmth through her senses, his body solid and strong against her. “Yes, but tell me again.” Tell me that we have all the time in the world.
“I love you Nicole Parrish. Fiercely, unconditionally.” A smile rippled across his face. “Obsessively.”
She smiled a tiny smile. “Crazy in love; that’s always been us. I love you, Rafe Contini, bone deep, heart full, and madly.” She swallowed hard. “I’m not going to cry. You’re going to come and get me soon or I’ll come back here. There’s nothing to cry about.”
“Not a thing. I’ll be in San Francisco before you know it.” Rafe’s eyes closed for a second, a flicker of tension caught the tip of his smile, but his voice was smooth when he said, “A few more days of this mess I’m dealing with and I’ll come for you. I might be out of phone range for a couple days, but I’ll call as soon as I can.”
“Promise?”
The soft plea in her voice broke his heart. “Promise. Same page now?”
“Yup.” She swallowed hard, blinked harder. Then, in her fearless way, she said, “Come back or I’ll come looking for you.”
He smiled, knowing she was going to be okay. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. You’re unforgettable, pussycat.” Familiar with masking his feelings and moving on through a world of soul-destroying trouble, he started walking again. “Make sure to say hi to Isabelle from me. Tell her I’m looking forward to meeting her. And don’t give me any shit,” he added now that Nicole seemed rational again, “but we�
�re getting you some clothes. No one looks at you naked but me.”
A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. “Wow. Is that an order?”
“Goddamn right it’s an order.”
“Okay, then.” Her smile was sweet as hell. “And Isabelle really is going to be fine. I’m not delusional. We talk to each other with ESP, always have, ever since we were kids. So relax.”
He didn’t argue about having been worried. He just said, “If you say so, I believe you. I’m glad you’re okay. You would have freaked out your uncle.”
She smiled. “I doubt it. Dominic’s hard to freak out. But he might have blamed you. No way I want that.”
Since the sea breeze could be cool, Nicole dressed in jeans and a sweater. Rafe just pulled on clean shorts and a T-shirt. They were waiting on the verge of the landing pad a few minutes later, Nicole’s hand in Rafe’s, her backpack slung over his shoulder. Dominic’s chopper was just setting down.
Rafe had asked whether she wanted to take any of the clothes he’d bought her, but she’d said, “The clothes will be here when I come back.”
Knowing better than to insist, he replied calmly, “I won’t move a thing.”
Then she’d tucked her hand in his and looked up, clear-eyed and unflinching. “Whatever’s going on, be careful, okay?”
“I will,” he’d said.
Leo and Dominic exchanged a few words after Dominic stepped off the ramp, then Leo moved aside as Dominic smiled at Nicole and walked toward her. He was thirty-seven now, tall, tanned, handsome, but still a surfer at heart, wearing blue-and-white-checkered Vans, shorts, and a T-shirt from a surfing competition in Bali. “Sorry I’m not here with better news,” he said, wrapping Nicole in a hug. “I see you’re ready. Good.” He put out his hand to Rafe. “Appreciate your help.”
“Rafe thinks I’m nuts,” Nicole announced, “but I’ll tell you anyway. I did that ESP thing Isabelle and I have been streaming since we were, like, four and six and she answered. Everything’s gonna be okay. But she needs me, she said, so I’m all set to go.”