Island Haven

by Amy Knupp

  “You’d have to eat about a hundred to make a meal. I let them go at the end of the night.”

  “Don’t they pinch?”

  “They can. That’s why we’re just looking.”

  She exhaled and her shoulders relaxed noticeably.

  “Come on,” he said, letting her catch up. “Let’s find more.”

  After the second crab, he offered her the flashlight. She hesitated before taking it.

  They walked for several minutes before she spotted one and let out a little-girl scream. She tracked it with the light for a few feet then lost it.

  “Fast little buggers,” she said.

  “They can run up to ten miles per hour.”

  “They’re kind of nasty, aren’t they?”

  Scott laughed and challenged her to find another. “I’m ahead, two to one.”

  She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders as if getting down to business. “Of course you are. I didn’t have a flashlight till now.”

  “There’s also the issue of your fear of ghost crabs.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “If you say so.” Her sudden bravado amused him.

  “There’s one!” Mercedes stopped and shined the light on a crab a half-dozen feet in front of them. It took off at full speed, heading right toward them. Directly toward her feet.

  She screamed, dropped the flashlight and leaped toward Scott, grabbing on to him and lifting her feet so he had no choice but to hold on to her. She screamed again and Scott laughed. Hard. And held on to her, not at all disappointed with the turn of events.

  “It touched me!” Mercedes said, craning her neck to look for the crab below her.

  “You scared it away. You have ghost-crab cooties now.”

  “You planned that.” Mercedes tried to act upset, but she tightened her arms around his neck and curled into him.

  “I’ve never been hunting with someone scared of harmless little ghost crabs.”

  “You paid the little creepy crawly off,” she accused, grinning, looking into his eyes.

  “If I knew it’d end up like this, I would have tried.”

  Mercedes inhaled Scott’s masculine scent as the mood between them changed from playfulness to…a different kind of play entirely. She’d honestly not meant to jump into his arms like a preteen in a haunted house, but now that she was here, she couldn’t make herself slide down to her feet.

  Scott’s gaze dipped to her lips momentarily. She was so close she could practically count his eyelashes. Unable to resist, she drew her hand from the back of his neck around to his jaw. She ran her fingers over the shadow of stubble, thrilling in the roughness, in the intimacy of touching a part of him most people didn’t.

  Scott shifted her in his arms. His eyes lowered again as he closed the inches between them and touched her lips with his. Lightly. More tenderly than she’d ever expect from such a hard-living man, especially after the urgency of the last time they’d kissed. It sent shivers up her arms and she tightened her hold on him, every inch of her body reveling in the heat of their contact even though the air around them was still hot and humid.

  He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, drinking her in at his leisure, as if time ceased to exist. Her tongue danced to the tempo he set, letting him lead yet taking for herself as well, exploring his mouth, memorizing every part of him.

  He growled deeply as they each tried to pull the other closer, relished every inch of contact along their bodies.

  “Hang on,” he whispered, the brush of his breath on her ear eliciting a moan from her. Still holding her, he dropped to his knees, then maneuvered himself to sit on the sand with her draped across him. Before either one of them could settle or get comfortable, their lips met again, more insistent, desperate for contact.

  He laid back and Mercedes followed, feeling his hardness at her center. Her hair was everywhere, draping over him, and he ran his fingers through it.

  “Been dying to touch this again. You have amazing hair.”

  Mercedes laughed and swallowed a protest. “I’m sprawled all over you and you just want my hair. I might be insulted.”

  “Uh, no. I don’t just want your hair. I have every intention of touching as much of you as you’ll let me.”

  She pulled away for a heartbeat. “Is there a question in there?”

  “There might be.”

  He nipped at her lips affectionately, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. His fingers still played in her hair, making her smile and think maybe her curls weren’t as bad as she’d always thought.

  While she was flattered that he liked her hair, she made a point of distracting him from it by finding the hem of his tee and pushing it up, treating her hands to the ridges and valleys of his solid chest. She skimmed her fingers over his nipples, back to his abdomen, exploring his upper body as if to sculpt it later.

  He intensified the kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth more deeply. Their bodies aligned and his hands dropped to her rear, molding her into him. Mercedes let conscious thought slip away, surrendered to sensation: the texture of his short hair, his periodic moans, the heat of his hands gliding over her bare skin. The gulf roar became background noise, an insulator, closing them off from the rest of the world as their desire turned more insistent.

  “So?” he whispered in her ear, again giving her chills.

  “So?” She blinked her eyes open reluctantly, as if being yanked from a really good dream.

  He brushed her hair to the side, cradled her jaw in his palm. “I want you. All of you, right here, now. The hair’s nice, but…” His grin was filled with wicked intent, his eyes with a powerful need. “You have to say.”

  The pounding of her blood to the center of her said an unequivocal yes. Her brain wasn’t quite there yet.

  “I told myself I wasn’t even going to kiss you again,” she said, her voice lower than normal.

  “I’m irresistible that way.”

  She laughed huskily. “Maybe I should move over so your ego has enough room.”

  “Don’t you dare go away.” It was practically a growl, and the low vibration of his voice did something to her. “I’m not asking for anything besides right now, Mercedes. You know I’m leaving.”

  As he kissed her again, she let his words sink in. The need pulsing through her made right here and now seem like a very good idea. She longed to have his hands all over her, to let him quell the burning ache at her core. As long as they both understood this was a temporary thing, a physical thing and nothing else, right now was enough. It was perfect.

  Except…

  “Scott?”

  He answered with a hungry sound as he continued to kiss her senseless.

  “I don’t want to end up like Gemma,” she managed to say, sounding breathless.

  He didn’t seem to hear her at first. After a couple seconds, he opened his eyes. “Like Gemma? Pregnant?”

  Mercedes nodded as she trailed her finger over his chin, jaw, cheek.

  “I think I have something.”

  “You think you do?”

  “Ninety-five percent sure I do.” He held her to him at the waist and shifted so he could dig out his wallet from his back pocket.

  Mercedes occupied herself by kissing up and down his jawline, his earlobe, his neck, following the path her fingers had taken.

  “Hundred percent,” Scott said, his voice strained.

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Scott dropped his wallet and the condom package on the sand beside them and put all his focus into making Mercedes crazy with wanting him. The gentle, unrushed tempo was long gone, giving way to their urgent need. He lifted her T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the side.

  Mercedes grinned when she saw it and considered how unprepared for this she’d been. She hadn’t thought twice about the old, comfortable clothes she was wearing when she’d rushed out of the house to Gemma. “I normally dress nicer on first dates.”

  “I’m terribly concern
ed about what you’re wearing,” Scott said. “Only because you’re still wearing it.”

  Mercedes sat up and removed her bra. “Better for you?”

  His hands were sliding up her sides to her breasts before she got the words out. He positioned her so he could tease her nipple with his tongue, swirling it around, taking it into his mouth, intensifying the ache inside her for more. She gasped his name. Tried to remember how to breathe.

  Without pausing the wonderful torture on her breasts, he moved his hands back down her sides and under her exercise shorts. Hooking his fingers inside the waistband of her panties, he slid everything down in one easy motion.

  “I’ve reconsidered,” he said as he moved his mouth to her other nipple. “I like the easy-access feature.”

  “Whatever it takes to make you happy.” She sucked in her breath as his hands roved over her flesh.

  Holding her on his lap, he sat up and pulled his shirt completely off. He shook it out and spread it at his side, smoothing the edges out. “Here,” he whispered. “I left the instant-romance props at home, so this will have to do as a blanket.”

  She crawled onto the shirt, grateful for some barrier between her backside and the sand. She didn’t dwell on that gratitude for long, though, because Scott sidetracked her. He unsnapped his jeans and removed them and his boxer briefs. The sight of his naked body leaning over her in the moonlight had her reaching out, pulling him down impatiently so she could touch and taste him again.

  He kissed her lips briefly, tenderly, then kissed and suckled his way down to her collarbone, her breasts, her navel. Mercedes cradled him between her legs, the friction between their bodies burning her up. His erection brushed along her inner thigh and she arched into him. When she grasped him, he moaned and moved into her hand, then eased himself up her body so he could devour her mouth. She raised her knees and opened herself to him as she reached out blindly to the side to find the condom packet. Scott teased her entrance with his tip. It was all she could do to rip open the packet and put the condom into his hand.

  Scott lifted his body to sheath himself. When he finally entered her, she cried out. He stilled to let her body get used to his. Mercedes angled toward him even closer, wrapped her legs around his and moved her hips.

  He whispered in her ear, telling her what she did to him and how she was driving him mad. Sweat slicked their bodies as their urgency increased. She held on to his backside, urging him deeper, climbing, burning from the inside out. She pressed her mouth into his shoulder to muffle the sounds she couldn’t hold back as he carried her higher and finally to the edge. He plunged over with her, calling her name out and making sexy primal sounds with no concern for where they were.

  Gradually, their surroundings came back into her consciousness. She held Scott to her, savoring the weight of him so fully centered on her. He buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her cheek. An appreciative, satisfied sound from him whispered over her ear, and goose bumps popped up on her arms.

  Scott eventually moved to her side, breaking the intimate connection of their bodies. He kissed her slowly, reverently, pulling her toward him.

  “That was worth every grain of sand embedded in my body,” he said.

  “That’ll teach you to leave the instant-romance props at home.” Mercedes grinned and traced a line on his chest. “Thank you for the T-shirt. You’re sweet.”

  He laughed, a lazy, sexy, satisfied sound. “Sweet isn’t something I’ve been accused of before.”

  “I think you’re just misunderstood.”

  “I think you’re temporarily blinded by post-lust bliss.”

  “There’s that ego again. What happened here?” she said, barely touching a long, semihealed scrape on his upper arm.

  Scott looked embarrassed. “Nothing.”

  “That’s a big nothing. Come on, tell me. How’d you cut your arm?”

  He looked away and shook his head dismissively. “It happened during my gallant escape from your backyard.”

  Mercedes tried not to laugh. “The fence?”

  “Been a long time since I’ve scaled a six-foot privacy fence. I was in a hurry.”

  “My hero,” she said, unable to hold back a big grin. She propped her chin on his chest. “I hope this is as out in the middle of nowhere as it feels, otherwise someone probably got an eyeful. And an earful.”

  “They might still be getting a very pleasant eyeful now.” Scott ran his hand over her rear affectionately and Mercedes lifted her head to scan the area around them.

  “We parked four miles north of town and probably walked another half mile after that,” he said. “There’s no one around to see your perfect ass shining in the moonlight.”

  She smiled but sat up to hide her perfect ass from the world. “I’m never going to get all the sand off.”

  “And you had my shirt,” he said, acting injured. He got to his feet and held his hands out to her. “Come on.”

  “Come on what?”

  “Sand-removal services.”

  She let him help her. Before she could even get her balance, he scooped her up. He jogged to the water and splashed in, still holding her. When they reached water up to her waist, he put her down and pulled her to him. The sensation of being naked in the gulf, the pull of the waves over her skin, gave her an overload of naughty thoughts. Scott kissed her, tasting of salt. She wound her arms around him until their bodies met and heat shot through her again. One night with him wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

  Unfortunately, what she wanted wasn’t the only thing she had to consider in her life.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  GOOD SEX MADE A MAN DO stupid things. Like sniffing a T-shirt, for instance.

  Scott sat in the driver’s seat of his car, the engine running. Gemma needed a ride home from the hospital. Apparently Mercedes had to stay with her grandmother because the afternoon caretaker had canceled at the last minute, so he’d agreed to pick up Gemma. Except he’d gotten waylaid by a blasted piece of clothing.

  It was his shirt, the one he’d been wearing last night, and it smelled like Mercedes. Like her floral-scented shampoo and whatever else it was that made the scent of her so feminine and…erotic.

  Stupider than smelling around for a sample of Mercedes’s sweetness was, well, where to start? Maybe the very act of inviting her to get into his car last night would be considered unwise by some. Getting naked on the beach, yeah, he could imagine arguments against that, but he wouldn’t concur. It was impossible to consider the most amazing sex of his life to be a negative.

  There was a suspicion nagging at him that it wasn’t just that the physical act had been so superior. That maybe there was more to it than body parts and sensations.

  Hell, there was no maybe about it.

  Dumbest thing he could do was to develop some kind of feelings for Mercedes. So what had he done?

  Mercedes wasn’t his typical roll in the sack to meet his needs. There was the flickering of more there.

  Scott winged the shirt into the backseat and swore at himself.

  * * *

  “WHAT’S EATING YOU?” Gemma’s voice sounded loud in the front seat of his car. Particularly so since they hadn’t said more than a couple words since leaving the hospital.

  “Hmm?” Scott put his turn signal on and waited for two cars to pass before pulling into the lot of their apartment building.

  “You’ve been in your own little world since you got to the hospital,” Gemma said. “What’s up?”

  “Did you need me to stop and get you anything before we get home?”

  “Little late to ask that now, isn’t it?” There was teasing in her tone. Amazing, considering the past twenty-four hours and the deepening of her predicament. She definitely wasn’t fainthearted or easily deterred. He found himself respecting that about her.

  “Want some movies? Books?”

  “Maybe,” she said noncommittally. “I’ll borrow some books from you, if that’s okay.”

  “It’s fi
ne.” That reminded him he’d promised Mercedes’s grandmother a book. Another dumb move on his part.

  He pulled into the handicapped spot that he’d never in his three years in this dump seen anyone use.

  “Rebel,” Gemma said.

  “Anything for the patient.” He got out and went around to her door. “I’ll move it later. You don’t need to walk half a mile.”

  “It wouldn’t even be a quarter of a mile. but thank you.” She took the hand he offered and pulled herself awkwardly out of the low-to-the-ground car. “This must be what it feels like to be sixty.” She started to reach for her purse in the front seat.

  “I’ll get it,” Scott said forcefully. The last thing he wanted was for her to pop that baby out now. For his sake and hers. And the baby’s, come to think of it.

  Gemma stood back and let him get it for her. They didn’t speak all the way to the apartment door.

  As he used his key on the lock, he could feel her staring at him from the side. He ignored her and went inside.

  “Bed or couch?” he asked.

  “Couch. I’ll just get a couple of—”

  “I’ll get them. What do you need?”

  “Pillows. Blanket. Book. Winning lottery ticket.”

  He nodded. “I can do all but one. You. Couch. Now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Scott shook his head as he rounded the corner into the hallway. When he returned, he helped her get settled by piling the pillows up on one end and spreading the blanket on top of her.

  “You really think you need that thing?” he asked. “It’s pushing a hundred out.”

  “I need comfort. I hate hospitals.” As soon as she’d reclined, she sat up again and swung her feet to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Scott asked.

  “I need a drink.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “You make kind of a cute nursemaid.”

  “Don’t push your luck.” He went into the kitchen and tracked down the largest cup he could find. Filled it with water and ice and was about to take it to the living room, when he stopped. Gemma went through cheese popcorn like crazy. He got the unopened bag of it from the cupboard, plus a box of cookies, an orange and some sesame crackers.