Risky Surrender

Home > Romance > Risky Surrender > Page 9
Risky Surrender Page 9

by Robin Bielman


  It turned him on even further knowing that the sexual tension he’d felt coming off her during dinner wasn’t just his imagination.

  “First time?”

  The mind-boggling smile she gave him burned with a sweet sensation.

  Tonight he’d put an end to the teasing between them. They hadn’t known each other for very long, but he knew. Knew he’d never find anyone else he wanted to be with more. If she’d let him in all the way, he could prove to her she could trust him. There was much more to the undeniable chemistry that sparked to life whenever they were near each other. He’d admired her from afar. Tonight he’d show her up close how much she meant to him.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucy had never been more nervous.

  Or more aroused.

  Each step toward the cabin sent throbbing tingles straight to the tips of her breasts and inflamed the endless ache of desire low in her stomach. The control she’d tried so hard to hang on to had vanished about an hour ago when McCall took one hand off the steering wheel and toyed with her seashell bracelet. Then he’d drawn delicate circles on her palm, lazy lines between her fingers, like a fortuneteller playing a one-of-a-kind instrument.

  Her fortune? You will soon gain your heart’s desire.

  No. Really. That’s what the fortune she’d refused to show McCall after their Chinese food lunch had said.

  She’d tried all day to convince herself it meant the Tlaloc sculpture, but hearing the click of the sliding glass door behind her and feeling McCall’s big, strong hands on her waist, she knew that wasn’t it.

  She was falling in love with McCall.

  If she could keep this just about sex, do the casual thing, then it wouldn’t matter that McCall would never love her back. That he wanted tonight and maybe the next few days, but beyond that, she didn’t fit in his world.

  When she took the Tlaloc sculpture, she’d be the last person he’d ever want to see again. She really had no choice now. Malcolm’s surprise appearance at the gala, and his threat to McCall if she didn’t get the statue for him, increased the stakes immeasurably.

  “You make it hard to breathe, Lucy. And I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he said in her ear, the husky sound of his smooth voice teasing her in the most delicious way.

  “I have, too.” God, how she’d thought about it.

  He drove her to the edge of his bed, his body steering her hips with expert guidance. After his lips performed a bone-melting caress to her neck, he turned her around.

  She blinked away thoughts of the job she had to do and concentrated on the right now. It wasn’t too difficult. The heat in McCall’s eyes burned a path straight to her core.

  Being with him filled the empty spaces inside her. She hadn’t thought that possible.

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard. She wanted him to know he made it difficult for her to breathe, too. She wanted him to feel everything she did.

  The devastating touch of his full lips made her toes curl. She rocked against him, pressed her mouth tighter. His hands were everywhere. And she couldn’t ever remember feeling this much need.

  A groan—his? Hers? She wasn’t sure—wrenched the kiss from her control to his. He explored her mouth like a man desperate to brand her. His hands cupped her ass and he brought her tight against his arousal. Knowing she was responsible for that sent a thrill through her bones and she couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside her.

  He pulled back to catch his breath. To slide her gown straps off her shoulders. She pushed his tuxedo jacket off his body and undid the buttons of his crisp, white shirt, dying to run her fingers over his skin.

  When she’d finished, again his mouth crashed into hers. One hand cradled her head while the other slid through her hair. She palmed his chest, moved lower. His skin was hot, muscled, smooth. A tiny bit raw where he’d been burned by the candles. He grabbed her wrist before she reached below the belt.

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Afraid I’ll cause you trouble?”

  “Oh, you’re already trouble. But I’m too far gone to care.” He raked a gaze over her from head to toe that bloody could have caused her clothes to go up in flames. “And intent on following through with my promise to you before my own needs are met.”

  “Promise?” She raked a finger down the middle of his chest. She didn’t remember any promise. She couldn’t recall what they ate for dinner.

  He tilted her chin so she met his clear blue eyes. “The one where I make you scream.”

  Oh. That one. She tried to laugh off his confidence, but instead a high-pitched rasp she’d never heard before slipped out between her lips. “I guess you could try that.”

  “I will.” His clever hands unzipped her gown in seconds. It fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing. His gaze caressed her all over, and her body responded with raging tingles that wove a brand new path through her.

  When he sucked in an unsteady breath as she swayed back onto the bed, her heart did a back flip.

  “See something you like?”

  “Every fucking thing.” He crawled over her body, straddled her hips, and lifted her arms over her head. “Keep those there.”

  She arched her back and pressed her shoulders into the bed, surprised at her brazenness, but happy to give him unhindered access.

  He didn’t waste a second. He kissed under her earlobe, along her neck, across her collarbone. His slow seduction drove her wild. She wanted him lower. When he finally got to her breast and licked and played with her nipple between his teeth, she moaned.

  “You taste so damn good,” he murmured against her skin. “Sugarcoated.” His lips moved to her other breast to give it equal attention.

  Then holding her gaze, his ministrations moved south until he cupped her mound, his hand stroking her in the perfect spot to tear a ragged sigh from the back of her throat.

  “That’s a start,” he said, before claiming her mouth again.

  “I need to touch you, McCall.”

  “Where?” His mouth slid down the small valley between her breasts.

  “Here for starters.” She lowered her arms and ran her hands through his hair.

  “And after that?”

  She moved her hands over his shoulders, down his back. “Here.” Firm, hot, sleek muscle vibrated beneath her fingers.

  He slipped further, licked her hipbone. “And after that?”

  “Here.” She lifted up to reach his ass and tugged, bringing the hard bulge in his tuxedo pants right where she wanted it—between her legs.

  McCall groaned at the contact. He pushed up and looked down at her. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

  Gorgeous didn’t begin to describe the look on his face. Staring up at him, she couldn’t ever remember looking at anyone more handsome. The whole “when God made him he broke the mold” totally applied.

  “You are the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said.

  She believed him. Because once again he kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

  Then his mouth moved all over her body. Her hands undid his pants and pushed them down. He tugged his boxer briefs off with them.

  He stood and she swallowed. His hard, muscled body was perfect. And the hardest part of him wanted her. She gathered fistfuls of bedding, her body waiting in torment. She needed his skin against hers so bad she clenched her legs together, worried she’d come apart with only his gaze. Watching him slide on a condom, she bit her lip to keep from begging him to hurry.

  The second he positioned himself at her entrance, a raw surge of arousal she’d never experienced before made her tipsy.

  The possessive look in his eyes made her feel loved.

  He moved inside her slow at first, as if he wanted to savor every stroke. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs, wanting him to bury himself all the way. His thrusts turned more demanding, his strength and skill taking her to the edge. She arched to meet
his next powerful push.

  She cried out when he drove his body into hers with intensity that far surpassed a simple physical connection. Her heart thudded inside her chest. Her nails dug into his back.

  “Oh, God, Keats. Just like that!” The incredible sensations taking over as their bodies worked in tandem destroyed any lingering doubt about her choice tonight. She hated what she had to do to him, but she’d been left with no choice. He’d hate her, but his reputation and integrity, not to mention his well-being, would be left intact. Lucy had never hated Malcolm more than she had tonight at the gala.

  She’d thought she was rid of him, but Malcolm wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

  “Lucy.” McCall’s husky voice drew her eyes open. “Don’t drift away from me now. Let me hear you. Feel you.”

  Looking up at him, her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t fake the worship in his eyes. The passion. Could he? Desperate to believe his intoxication matched hers, she crashed her mouth against his.

  She rocked against him in unconscious harmony. He found that pleasure spot again and moved hard against her, pressing her into the bed.

  When he lifted his head to catch a breath, she had only a second to catch her own before a noise sounding suspiciously like a scream ripped from deep inside her chest and she climaxed.

  Keats followed right behind. His groans of pleasure swept her up in joy that verged on torment. He collapsed on top of her, buried his nose in her hair. “That was amazing.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  He rolled over and pulled her with him so she could cradle her head on his shoulder, burrow into his side.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I’m not. I think you wiped out all my brain cells.” Not exactly true, but if she told him about Malcolm he’d push her away.

  “Want to know what I’m thinking?”

  “No.”

  “No?” He shifted to try and get a peek of her face.

  She lowered her chin and wrapped her arm around his chest. Knowing McCall’s thoughts was a danger she didn’t have the strength for at the moment. “No. But I do have a question.” He stayed silent so she continued. “Did you mean all those things you said tonight? You want me to come to the village with you?”

  “Absolutely. I think you could offer some insight I don’t normally receive. We rarely work with archeologists, and I think if you see the work we’re doing you’ll gain some appreciation for it.” His chest rose and fell. “The invitation is there if you want it.”

  Confusion collided with attachment. He respected her. He valued her. Even after she’d made it perfectly clear that she wanted only one thing from the Aztec village.

  “Okay.”

  He squeezed her tight. “You won’t regret it.”

  Yes. She would.

  …

  McCall woke up most mornings with a hard-on. But for the first time in years, it was pressed against an ass of epic perfection. Soft, round, warm. Lucy’s body gave new meaning to “getting up.”

  He swallowed the moan that would lead to more feel-good friction and scooted back a few inches. Full rays of sunlight washed over them, meaning he’d already slept later than intended.

  “Morning, sleepy head.” He placed a kiss in the spot in the crux of her neck that he knew drove her wild.

  He knew every single spot on her body now. His favorite? The tiny freckle on the outside slope of her left breast, just under her arm, because every time he licked there she shivered.

  Her shoulder shrugged. She murmured something.

  “Lucy, we need to get up.” He inwardly laughed, his lips curling into a smile. He couldn’t get any more up.

  “Hmmm?” She rolled over, her tousled hair, her pink cheeks, her well-loved lips more breathtaking than anything imaginable.

  It thrilled him that she wanted to come to the village, but he wasn’t completely convinced her motives were pure. Last night he’d made love to her over and over again and he was sure he hadn’t imagined the deep admiration between them. But he knew how to read a woman, and Lucy was holding something back.

  She hadn’t made him any promises, but he’d damn well hoped she’d leave the sculpture alone. Not only was the integrity of the village at stake, but possibly the reputation of his entire organization if she duped him again.

  “It’s time to wake up.” He gently shook her.

  She bolted upright. The sheet fell to her waist and exposed golden velvet skin. “I told you not to let me fall asleep here!”

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  Her head whipped around the room like she expected an ambush. When her gaze settled back on him, his smile must have reminded her of her manners because she said, “Morning.” And yanked the sheet up to her neck.

  “Aren’t we past modesty?”

  “What time is it?” She looked around him to view the digital clock on the nightstand.

  He followed her line of sight. Eight o’clock.

  She let out a breath and leaned back against the pillows and headboard. “I asked you to kick me out of your bed.”

  “Just one more minute, Keats, then I’m going to my bed,” he said in his best Lucy imitation. After they’d spent hours exploring each other, she’d huddled against him to “rest.”

  He laughed at the glare she shot him.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I fell asleep first.” He may have made sure his arm was fastened securely around her before he’d allowed himself to doze off.

  Her head fell into her hands.

  Suspicion made his stomach clench. Two nights in a row she hadn’t been happy about spending the night with him. Guess his plans to keep her mind off the Aztec village had worked. Why that suddenly hurt like hell he wasn’t sure.

  His intentions had been honorable. Never once did his actions mean anything less than a desire to be with her unconditionally. But somehow with her agitation this morning, he doubted Lucy would see it that way.

  “How about some coffee and blueberry pancakes before we head out?” He slipped out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. He returned with a towel around his waist and picked up the phone to dial room service.

  “You need to put some clothes on,” she grumbled when he ambled back to the bed.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re distracting otherwise.”

  “I like that I distract you.” He tiptoed his fingers across the sheets towards her.

  She squashed his hand with a knee-jerk. “I don’t.”

  “Your loss. I can do very talented things with these fingers.”

  She tried really hard not to smile, but she lost the battle. Her lips twisted, one edge of her mouth quirking higher than the other. Creases etched the corners of her sleepy eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. You want the first shower?”

  “Depends,” he said.

  “On what?”

  “On whether or not you’re taking the first one. I’m all about conservation, you know.”

  Lucy moved her mouth from side to side, implying without words she was considering his offer and picturing the shared shower space like he was. Sexiest morning look ever.

  She slid out of the sheets, smoothed her hand across the rumples as she rounded the bed, and strutted her naked body into the bathroom. “I’m all yours,” she said over her shoulder.

  For the moment, yes, she was.

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re slacking.”

  “I’m watching.” McCall wiped the perspiration off his forehead. From his position on the retaining wall of the Aztec village he had a damn fantastic view.

  “The dirt bake?” Lucy asked, taking the spot next to him.

  “You.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her perfect legs, her bare shoulders, her friendly disposition. She moved in a way that made people gravitate toward her.

  For the past four days she’d worked tirelessly with his staff and local Native American Indians wherever needed. She didn’t care about getting dirty. She didn�
��t care about doing the grunt work. And when his preservation philosophies and knowledge of conservation science went over the heads of the people he wanted to help, she explained things with amiable charm and familiar words.

  Everyone loved her.

  He loved her.

  “You need to stop that.” She bent her neck from side to side.

  “Why?”

  “You might see me do something you don’t like.”

  Ahh. So they were finally going to talk about it. He took a swig from his water bottle. “So this has all been surveillance? Reconnaissance to find your Tlaloc sculpture?”

  She shuddered. From his accusation or the breeze that blew by cooling off their overheated bodies, he didn’t know.

  Then she chuckled. “I meant sweat like a pig or flirt with Connor since he seems determined to get your goat and I can’t help but play along. But good to know what you really think of me.”

  If she knew what he really thought—that he loved her—what would she think? They’d spent every night this week naked underneath the bed sheets. She’d given her body so willingly he got hard just thinking about it. When they talked about their pasts and families, she drew him in further with her guts and attitude. His family wouldn’t be thrilled with her upbringing and status, but no other woman turned him inside out like Lucy did, and he wanted more from her.

  The truth, for starters. Because there was still something about being here that she wasn’t telling him.

  He turned to face her. “I think you’re complicated and keeping something from me. I also think I’d do anything for you, so how about putting it all on the line, right here, right now.”

  She kept her gaze on the dirt underneath her boots. “It’s not…” She paused and cleared her throat. “It’s complicated. I told you you’d be better off without me and that’s even truer now. I think it’s time for me to go.”

  His hands fisted. “Just like that? You’re willing to walk away because you’re afraid it’s complicated?”

 

‹ Prev