Wicked Sexy

by Anne Marsh

  He stopped by the front windows covered with aluminum hurricane panels. “You’ve got storm shutters.”

  “My grandparents had them installed fifteen years ago. They lost every window in the place and Sweet Moon was closed for weeks because of the water damage inside the cabins.”

  He nodded. “Smart move on their part. I remember that storm. She was a doozy.”

  “School was closed for a week.”

  He’d been a few years ahead of her, which, when you were a teen, was pretty huge. He and his friends had seemed almost godlike. The crush she’d had on him then made her smile now. She used to think Daeg was cute, but that was nothing compared to what she thought of him today. The notion of spending just one night with him—even if it was because they were trapped by the storm—had heat curling through her body.

  She needed to think about what was happening, not about Daeg, so she said the first thing that popped into her head.

  “Good thing I’m ready.”

  * * *

  READY FOR WHAT?

  Damned if he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth—or keep from indexing all the sensual implications of her statement. Daeg had never cared much for reason. No, he acted on instincts honed by years of grueling work and preparation. Dani, however, clearly liked to think things through a lot. While he could see teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue until she was good and ready, she headed straight to the closet and brought out an enormous box labeled Storm Supplies on all four sides. She maneuvered the box into the center of the room, and he couldn’t help noticing her firm ass.

  “I need to make a list,” she grumbled, and he shook his head.

  “You have lists for everything.” He’d seen her office and he was still scared.

  “I’m organized.”

  “Obsessive.”

  “I have everything on the FEMA hurricane checklist,” she pointed out, opening the box of supplies. “Six gallons of water, three days’ worth of canned food, four flashlights, eight extra batteries.”

  He let her talk on and on while he considered their options. She definitely had two of everything they’d ever possibly need. That was all good, but that one box held more than enough canned goods to survive a full-blown apocalypse for a week. The talking-things-through thing clearly worked for her, because she was smiling and seemed relieved when she finally finished and sank back on her haunches. She stared up at him and something deep inside him came alive. She was messy and rumpled, and the portion of her hair that wasn’t flat was standing on end. She was also soaking wet and, despite the summertime temps, he didn’t like the blue tinge to her lips. He needed to get her warmed up and out of those clothes.

  And just like that, his body did some warming up of its own at the thought of Dani naked. While he tried to banish a nice little erotic fantasy from his head—of him slowly peeling her clothes off and massaging and rubbing her all over—she returned to her inventory.

  “See?” she told him proudly. “Everything and then some. Don’t tell me that being prepared isn’t a good thing.”

  A particularly loud crack sounded outside and had her jumping. He was willing to bet that the big oak by Sweet Moon’s front entrance had just come down. As long as the branches missed her cabin and the Jeep, he wasn’t worried. Not yet.

  “You make a quality argument.” Squatting down beside her, he started to go through the supplies. The stuff was a smart move on her part and they’d be grateful for it if the storm lasted too long. The box was neatly labeled and had its list of inventory taped to the lid. Definitely Dani’s handiwork, although it had him wondering what else she labeled. Everything, he concluded. She was one organized woman.

  “You like being prepared.”

  “Yes, of course.” She looked at him as if he’d asked her if she liked breathing. “It’s an occupational hazard.”

  “Right. Actuary.”

  “When you spend all day figuring out the chances of bad stuff happening, being prepared seems like a no-brainer.” She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “It’s hard to turn off the numbers at the end of the day.”

  “So you count everything.” He moved in closer to study her. It was actually difficult to imagine her stuck in an office, crunching numbers all day long. Numbers were boring and lifeless. Dani was...not. When she leaned forward to arrange the stuff in the box, her shoulder brushed his.

  He pointed toward the door just as it danced in its frame from a particularly loud gust of rain. “Then you must have a good idea of how this is going to end. You’ve got this storm mapped out from start to finish.”

  She ran her fingers along the edges of the box, and then skimmed lightly over the supplies. He’d bet she was itching to order them alphabetically. “I predict outcomes.”

  “So no play-by-play?”

  “No.” She smiled. “Just aftermaths.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “Well...” she said, pursing her lips. Dani had some of the most kissable lips he’d ever seen. Nibbling at them suddenly seemed like a very good idea. “This is a Category Three storm, right? It’s been running up the California coast for two days now. There’s a sixty percent chance it merges with an incoming weather system from the Pacific and grows stronger, not weaker. The weather forecasts I heard this morning predict the eye is going to pass about five miles northwest of us, so Discovery Island won’t take a direct hit.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “Very,” she agreed. “But the storm’s still moving near us. We’re going to be on the outer edge of that eye and that means winds of 110 to 120 miles per hour. Seven to eight inches of rain are predicted for the island, but the storm tide and surge should do the most damage. We’re looking at water ten to twelve feet farther inland than normal.”

  Dani’s storm was all numbers. Her numbers weren’t wrong, but that wasn’t how he looked at a storm. For him, the wind and the waves were obstacles to be overcome because the only thing that mattered to him was finishing the job. Whoever was stranded in the water—and there was always someone—that person made it. That was his motto and he lived by it.

  Until Lars. He held on to that thought for a moment, because apparently he really was a glutton for punishment. Maybe there had been a way to make one more pass. Maybe they could have both gone up in the basket, if he’d dragged his sorry butt to one side and had sat up. There were plenty of possibilities, now that he could think clearly.

  Her hand touched his arm, bringing him back to the present. “Earth to Daeg.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re lost in thought,” she challenged.

  That was true, but he didn’t want to talk about it. The psychologist he’d seen had done plenty of talking. Problem was, talking didn’t always fix things like this. Lars was gone and no amount of words would bring him back.

  “All right, so that’s the storm. Then what?”

  “Then we have aftermath. How far the storm surge reached, what kind of damage all that wind and rain did. People lose a roof, end up with boats in their front yards or the beach relocates inside what was their living room. The property damage can be significant.” She frowned earnestly, clearly working the numbers in her head. The little S-shaped crinkle between her eyebrows made him want to lean in and kiss her.

  He scoffed. “You ever go see the aftermath of one of these storms you insure? What’s outside isn’t the theoretical problem you’re trying to figure out.”

  She looked irritated. Her fingers started tapping a steady rhythm on the edge of the box. “I know that.”

  “Numbers can’t tell you what’s going to happen next.”

  “What’s likely to happen,” she said stubbornly, precise as always.

  “Really?” Her certainty was kind of cute, but she was still wrong. All the numbers in the world couldn’t t
ell you exactly what was going to happen next, or even what was likely. Statistically speaking, Lars shouldn’t have died, nor should Dani have been out here in this storm. Those were both mistakes.

  He leaned closer. “This is a rescue situation. That means we’re playing by my rules, Dani. I decide what happens next.”

  Now that she was out of the rain, her hair was starting to dry in waves kinking up at the ends. He liked her natural look. Her eyes widened as he got within kissing distance, and Dani off-balance was even sweeter. The heat building between them didn’t fit into her neat model of the universe, and she hadn’t decided what to do about that.

  So he might as well give her something else to think about.

  “What’s the probability of my kissing you?” His mouth was close enough now to brush hers.

  She opened her mouth to say something—of course she had an answer and a number for everything—and he took ruthless advantage, covering her lips with his. Since she’d been getting ready to speak, the kiss started out on a whole different level. Their tongues touched. To hell with it, he decided, giving his instincts free rein as fiery heat exploded through him. He kissed her deep, his tongue tangling with hers.

  His professional side was yelling at him to hold on tight. His gentlemanly side—which was just about nonexistent—however, insisted he back off. Instead, she leaned into him. Her palms flattened on his chest. Damp cotton and the heat of her fingers sliding over him shouldn’t be such an instant turn-on. But it was. He wanted more, so he kissed her with everything he had, his mouth moving hungrily over hers.

  When he finally came up for air and opened his eyes, damned if she wasn’t watching him. The pink flush on her cheeks reddened when he caught her. Busted. For all he knew, she’d been watching him the whole time while he was lost in her incredible response to his kiss. He didn’t want her observing; no, he wanted her to feel.

  “Close your eyes,” he said hoarsely.

  She met his order with an impish smile of her own, her lashes drifting slowly down.

  Leisurely, he explored her parted lips with his tongue, tasting her. She was warm, welcoming...amazing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad himself, because she gasped and curled her fingers tightly into his shirt. She pressed and pressed into him as if she was impatient. He had enough patience for both of them. This time, when he lifted his head and opened his eyes, hers were still shut. Or he simply hadn’t caught her peeking.

  The giggle shaking her body had him shaking his head. Yeah, she’d outsmarted him there.

  “You cheated,” he accused.

  “Prove it.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just get even.”

  Taking his time, he kissed her eyelids gently and then continued along the side of her jaw. He hoped she was enjoying this; he was certainly enjoying her.

  “Uh-uh,” he said, when her eyelashes fluttered. “My way.”

  She must like doing things his way, too, because a husky moan left her throat when he gave her more kisses, his thumb stroking the soft curve of her face. She tugged hard on his T-shirt, pulling him where she wanted him, and took them both down to the floor.

  Rolling onto his back, he positioned her on top of him. The heat exploding through him at the feel of her was pushing him toward the edge. She stretched and rubbed her breasts over his chest as she straddled him. Yeah. This was what he needed.

  He kissed her more passionately, giving in to their ravenous hunger for each other. Their raw need seemed insatiable. And she met him kiss for kiss. She made him like this, and his only consolation was that he wasn’t alone. She was right there with him.

  “See?” he whispered, pulling back from her mouth. Her lips were wet and swollen, demanding his attention again. “My way isn’t so bad, is it?”

  “Kiss me again and I’ll let you know,” she demanded. Her mouth met his, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before her tongue swept inside. And as quick as that she’d fired up his arousal; the desire and pleasure of her kiss drowned out the storm outside and the insistent pain in his thigh.

  She devoured him, and he gave back as good as he got. His lips were locked on hers in a primitive battle. This needed to be what she wanted. She shouldn’t feel pressured or uncomfortable because they were alone in her cabin in the middle of this chaos.

  This time, when he lifted his head, she let go of him.

  “Dani—” he said.

  The power flickered and went out.

  9

  THE CABIN WAS plunged into darkness.

  Dani scrambled off Daeg, not sure what to do or say. More came to mind. He raised himself up onto his elbows and she wished she could read his mind. Desire was twisting her up in knots. Never had she burned like this for a would-be lover. Never imagined she could. She needed to be alone, to think. And yet here he was, clearly going nowhere. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could make him out as he lay there on the floor next to her. He was staring at the ceiling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. That was what made Daeg Ross so dangerous. She’d known he was a really, really good kisser, but she hadn’t expected he’d be such good company. Or that he’d have a playful sense of humor.

  She wanted to touch him, tease him, because this handful of minutes they’d had wasn’t possibly enough to satisfy her. Or probably him. She needed more. Much, much more. And here she’d sworn she wouldn’t rush headlong into a new relationship, that she would play things cautiously. It was probably preferable that Mother Nature had thrown a bucket of cold water on her libido. Her wet clothes and dirty skin were hardly romantic.

  She pointed a finger at the overhead light, even though he probably couldn’t see what she was doing. She knew and that was what counted. “See? Exhibit A.”

  “Power outages are common during a storm,” he told her calmly, reaching for a flashlight. “There’s no need to panic.”

  “I’m not panicking.” She wasn’t. She just believed in being prepared.

  For everything.

  She jiggled the light switch, hoping against hope that the power outage was a temporary glitch, but no such luck. With the storm shutters up, the dark cabin suddenly seemed far too small.

  “There are candles in the bathroom.”

  “No candles until the storm’s passed overhead. Fire hazard.”

  Great. She was stuck in a cabin with a wannabe firefighter. Which was fine, since she didn’t want him thinking that she was thinking about bed. With him. Which she was, if she was being honest.

  He handed her a flashlight. “Here.”

  “You shouldn’t have,” she deadpanned, flicking the beam on and off.

  “Don’t waste the batteries.”

  “You want me to just sit here in the dark?”

  He eyed her. “No. Strip.”

  Her breath caught in her throat—well, she was glad he didn’t know about the heat pooling in her belly. It had definitely been too long since she’d had a generous lover—and that had been one heck of a kiss.

  A smile curled his lips. “Your clothes are wet, Dani.”

  Suddenly, the four-poster bed behind them seemed to take up the entire cabin. That bed was total romance—nine feet by eight, with a thick white duvet and an intimate canopy.

  He rolled onto his side, toward her. In the beam of light, his expression seemed serious.

  “How long have you known me, Dani?”

  “Are we counting consecutive days or just subtracting an end date from a start date?” she asked lightly. Where was he going with this?

  “Either. In all that time,” he continued, “have I ever done something you didn’t want?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  “So tonight’s not any different.” He watched her steadily.

  She wanted to laugh. He thought she was nervous about being alone with
him when the opposite was true. She was dying to get her hands all over him—but she didn’t know how to tell him. Who would have thought that a simple proposition would be so difficult to get out?

  “Got it?” He waited for her response, not moving.

  “Absolutely.”

  She was suddenly conscious of how she must look.

  “I guess with this outfit and hairdo, I wouldn’t win any beauty contests,” she joked.

  He eyed her up and down, and something about that dark gaze made her pause. No one had ever stared at her quite that intently. No man had stared at her and made her feel like he was seeing a real woman. Daeg did.

  “You did go for a swim,” he allowed, a grin tugging at his mouth.

  “A really big one. I’ll stick to pools from here on out.”

  She closed the collar of his jacket, which she was still wearing. She wasn’t cold. She was reveling in the fact that it was his, so much so that it seemed a shame to give it back.

  “You did good out there.”

  “Thanks,” she said lightly, “but I prefer driving on dry roads. How’s your thigh?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  That wasn’t, she noted, an answer to her question.

  He exhaled. “You got towels in the bathroom?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then I’ll go find us some towels while you get changed out here. Stay away from the windows and the door. And, Dani?” He started limping toward the bathroom.

  “Huh?” She dug her feet into the floor before she got any ideas about following him. This wasn’t a romantic getaway.

  “Get undressed, okay?”

  * * *

  SINCE SHE CLEARLY wasn’t used to taking orders, he figured the shock bought him a few seconds. After that, she’d be giving him hell.

  “I’m going to go in there.” He gestured toward her bathroom, and damned if the corners of her mouth didn’t turn up. “I’ll start the water, heat things up some. When I come back, you go in. I don’t know how long we’ll have hot water, so let’s use it while we can and get you warmed up, all right?”