“Do you have . . . ?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “In my wallet.”
He reached up and traced a finger over her lips. “You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
“You make me feel beautiful.” Slowly, his touch moved down the front of her tank top. She glanced down and watched him draw soft circles around her tight nipples. She inhaled and let her head drop back, submitting to his sweet touch.
He leaned up off the pillow. The six pack of his abs became more apparent as he caught the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head. His gaze went to her breasts, followed by his hands. She had just enough to fill his palms.
His hooded gazed moved up to her eyes. “I want to touch and taste every inch of you.”
He flipped her over. Her back melted against the mattress, the cool feel of cotton sent a shiver through her. Not from cold, but from anticipation.
He reached down and unsnapped her jean shorts. As he slipped them from her hips, he took her panties, too. She heard him inhale. His blue gaze seemed to brighten. After the two pieces of clothing glided off her feet, he tossed them on the floor and stretched out beside her.
His gaze moved up and down her naked body. She should have felt embarrassed, or timid, but all she felt was beautiful and a bit powerful. She could see how badly he wanted her.
But she wished she could see more. She reached over to the snap of his jeans. “Are you still uncomfortable?”
He smiled and reached down and unzipped his jean. Standing, he pushed them down his legs, gray boxers and all.
But not everything stayed down. His sex popped up with such force it made a slapping sound when it hit his lower abs.
“See what you do me?” he said and put one knee on the bed.
“Shame on me,” she said and giggled. All she could think about was touching him, and feeling a bit brazen, she felt her face grow hot. Not that the prickle of warmth stopped with just her face. The heat headed south. The slow ache, low in her belly, throbbed. She felt the hotness between her thighs grow moist.
He stretched out beside her again, but he didn’t touch. She ached to feel his hands on her. She ached to put her hands on him.
Then, feeling more eager than timid, she reached out and pressed her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart thumping against his breast bone. Slowly, she inched her hand down. Followed the treasure trail of thin, dark hair. The side of her hand touched his sex.
He took in a sharp breath.
She wrapped her hand around all that hard heat. When she glanced down, she saw a pearl-white drop of moisture appear on the top of the organ. He shifted his hips and moved in the tightness of her fist.
“Okay, we have to stop that,” he said in a tight voice, but continued to shift in her hand.
“Why?” she asked innocently and looked down at his thick shaft. “I thought Mr. Peabody liked it.”
“Mr. Peabody?” he asked and almost choked saying it.
She grinned. “You didn’t tell me his name, so I had to guess.”
He dropped his head back and roared with laughter. After a few minutes, he looked at her. “He does like that,” he said. “But there’s someplace else he wants to go. And he’s not going to be up to it if you keep doing that.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she teased. “You’re the one moving.”
He laughed. “Not my fault,” he said, and shifted up and down a few more times. “That’s an involuntary body reaction. Like blinking.” He pulled away and dropped his hand on the curve of her waist. Then slowly lowered it down to her hip. Between her legs.
When his fingers touched the waiting moisture, he inhaled again. “Damn, you are so wet,” he whispered.
She let out a moan of pleasure. Without meaning to, she shifted against his hand.
“See,” he said. “You’ve got some involuntary movements, too.”
“I guess I do,” she whispered, almost unable to think, much less talk.
He slipped one finger inside her. “So tight,” he said, leaning down and taking her nipple in his mouth. She moaned again and her back arched up with the pleasure of feeling his fingers shifting between her legs and his mouth on her breasts.
Then his mouth moved south. He shifted and settled himself right between her legs. Eyes closed, she pressed her head into the pillow, waiting to feel his mouth on her. Wanting it so bad, she hurt. So bad, she opened her legs a little more and lifted her pelvis, hoping to find relief.
“Look at me,” he said.
She lowered her chin, opened her eyes. She felt like a complete wanton seeing him there. The brazenness of it was too much, she dropped her head back.
“No,” he said. “If you want this, you watch.”
The sound of his voice, his command, had the sweet ache becoming intolerable. “Do it,” she said.
He grinned. “Say please.”
“Please.”
“My pleasure,” he said and ran his tongue over her.
And just like that, she exploded. The orgasm hit so strong, her whole body shook and made the feel of his tongue too much. She locked her thighs, catching his head between them. When his tongue came in contact with her again, she let out another moan and pulled herself back.
She looked at him. His mouth wet, his blue eyes filled with so much heat.
“You’re too fast,” he said grinning with pride.
Suddenly wanting to be the one with the power, she lunged forward and pushed him back on the mattress. His head hung almost off the end of the bed.
She straddled his legs, his sex standing straight up, right in front of the juncture of her thighs. She reached down and palmed him. He moaned.
“Now you watch,” she said, feeling even more wanton, but loving every minute of it. The good girl had gone rogue. She wanted to savor the power she had. Yet she also wanted to savor the intense need to let go and give him complete control. She had to trust him to do this, didn’t she?
Yes, she did. So there it was, she trusted Turner Calder. Then another truth hit. She loved Turner Calder.
He lifted his head. She scooted down, lowered her face, and took him in her mouth.
“No,” he said. But his hips shifted up and then down, two more times. “I want to be inside you,” he growled.
He reached up, caught her by her shoulders, and pushed her on her back. He reached for his wallet on the bedside table. Opening the condom packet with his teeth, he slid the thin rubber over his sex.
Then he settled between her thighs. “I’ve wanted this since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
The coldness of the condom touched her moist opening. But as soon as he slipped inside, nothing mattered but the feel of him stretching her, filling her. He started slow, but the pace picked up, and in seconds, she came again. She hadn’t caught her breath, when she felt him come with her. His entire body tightened, he made a noise, half-moan, half-growl, and the hardness inside throbbed as he spilled his seed inside the condom.
He rolled over and brought her with him. His breath came hard against her forehead. His arms held her so close.
“That was . . . amazing,” he said.
She pressed her face into his chest, smelling his spicy aroma, smelling the musky scent of their lovemaking. “I know,” she said. “I was there.”
She pulled back and glanced up. She stared at him through the curtain of hair that fell across her face. He brushed her hair back gently. His phone rang and he frowned. “We need to talk.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“But I have to take this call.
“I know that, too.”
“I’m sure it’s Luke and they’re probably already on the island.”
She nodded.
He kissed her quickly and then pulled away and answered his call
Chapter Nine
Turner frowned at his ringing phone again. He’d asked them to come, and it was the right thing, but damn it to hell and back if he didn’t wish he hadn’t.
He would kill to spend more time alone with Reese, keep her naked in bed all day, make love to her and listen to the waves in the distance.
He grabbed the phone, sat up on the side of the bed, and looked around for his clothes. “Hey.”
“We’re here on the island. Where are you?” the voice said.
Turner shook his head as his mind tried to wrap around the identity of the voice. “Danny?”
“Yeah.”
Shit! Shit! Shit! He didn’t want Danny here, reminding him he’d taken a stupid vow to never fall in love. He glanced back at Reese, the sheet pulled up over her breasts. He didn’t want the blond cop anywhere near Reese. The guy was an incorrigible flirt and a chick magnet.
“Why are you here?” He ran a hand over his face, smelling Reese, his body responding to the soft scent of her sex still lingering on his hand. He already wanted her again.
“Luke called me and said you were in a bit of jam, so Cary and I hopped on a plane this morning and met Luke and the guys. Besides, who would pass up the chance to see Hung, Georgia?”
Shit! Cary was here, too.
“And I figured we needed to be here to keep you from making a mistake with the hot sister.”
He closed his eyes and his gut gripped. This was going to be a nightmare.
“So, where are you?” Danny asked. “The island’s not any bigger than a peanut, so we’re probably only five minutes away.”
The temptation to lie, send them on a wild goose chase while he packed Reese, naked and all, into his car and got the hell away, hit hard. But he couldn’t. “On Beachside Drive. House number two-twenty-two. But give me ten minutes, I need to shower.”
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
He frowned and glanced at Reese, praying she couldn’t hear Danny’s booming voice. “See you in ten.”
“Shit, you did. Please tell me you didn’t tell her you loved her.”
He hung up. He hadn’t told her he loved her. And damn it, he probably should have. Had he already screwed up? He looked at her wrapping the sheet around herself and standing up. His chest filled with that exact emotion.
“I should call Frank,” he said.
She nodded.
He found the card and called. Frank answered on the first ring. “Hey, it’s Turner. My friends will be here in ten minutes.”
“Great. I’ll be there in ten, too. And Casey.”
Turner agreed. Frank had suggested Casey and her shotgun come over while they tried to catch the guy who’d taken off last night. He’d already decided to leave one of the guys behind, too. It wasn’t that Turner didn’t trust Casey, he just thought she was a nut case.
Reese looked back at him, her light blue eyes so damn vulnerable, beautiful. Sexy. “Do you want to shower first?” she asked.
The words, I love you, rested on the tip of his tongue, but it just didn’t feel like the right time now. When they talked later. He’d tell her then.
He would.
“No, you go ahead, but make it quick.” He almost suggested they take one together to save time, but that wouldn’t work. If he got her naked in the shower, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from making her his again. Just thinking about it had . . . he glanced down . . . Mr. Peabody standing to attention. He watched her struggle with the sheet to keep everything covered while he sat there buck naked. “You know I already saw it all.”
She grinned sexily. “That was a one-time pass.”
What do I have to do to get a lifetime membership? And that’s what he wanted. A lifetime with Reese. He didn’t give a damn about his membership to the No-Balls-and-Chains Gang. Danny and Cary could consider him a lost cause.
“One-time pass, my ass,” he teased back. “You named my penis. That’s not allowed on one-time passes.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have done that,” she said smiling, and turned to go to the bathroom. But right before she entered, she dropped the sheet. And holy hell, her shapely ass was one part of her body he hadn’t seen bare yet. Ahh, damn. They had ten minutes. He got up and followed her into the shower.
• • •
He still hadn’t told her he cared, and maybe she was a fool, but she felt it in the way he’d made love to her, in the way he smiled at her. In the way he teased her. She was in this for the long haul. She just hoped he felt the same.
They had no more stepped out of the bathroom, dressed, wet hair, and satisfied, when someone knocked on the door. She saw Turner look at her as if nervous. And for some reason, his edgy look took a small chink out of her confidence. What if he didn’t want the same thing she wanted? Like forever.
He went to the door and opened it.
Five guys, all in their early to mid-thirties walked in. Turner introduced them. Jason, Chase, Luke, Cary and Danny. Two were blondes, and three dark-haired. Reese had never felt so much testosterone in one room. All their eyes focused on her, then, one-by-one, their gazes shifted to the one bed in the small cabana, and she felt them trying to size up the relationship between her and Turner.
“This is Reese Morris,” Turner continued.
She inhaled and worried the room still smelled like sex.
All the guys nodded a greeting. Then, one of the blond men, Jason, she thought, spoke first. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Ditto,” she said, but she couldn’t help but notice the other blond guy kept eying Turner as if he’d done something wrong.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here,” said another of the dark-haired guys. She was pretty sure this one was Luke.
“Piece of cake,” said Chase.
Another knock sounded on the door. Turner squeezed around the other guys to open the door. Frank, with Casey and her shotgun, stood there. The woman wore a pink T-shirt advertising her diner.
Reese suddenly wished she’d asked what was happening. But no, she’d been too worried about having sex. Another small crack formed in her confidence.
Turner moved, allowing room for Frank and Casey to enter. Introductions were made. The five guys shifted back a bit as Frank and Casey walked in. The place looked small with so many people.
Casey, brushing her gray hair back, looked from man to man. “Lord have mercy, it’s not good for a woman my age to be surrounded by so many good-looking fellows.” The last one her gaze settled on was Frank.
The men in the room smiled.
“Since you’re carry a shotgun, ma’am, I’m thrilled you find us agreeable,” said Chase, grinning.
“Oh, I’ve shot people I found agreeable,” Casey said. “The last guy who got buckshot in the ass was a real looker.”
They all laughed, except Reese.
Frank came up to her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “What’s the plan?”
“You and Casey stay here, and we’re gonna go catch this guy.”
Reese frowned, remembering the guy who’d shown up with a gun who’d almost shot her. Which meant this guy would probably have a gun, too. And, just like that, she flashed back to seeing the guy two months ago take a bullet, and how worried she’d been last night when she thought Turner or Frank had taken a bullet. “Why can’t we just leave?”
“We don’t know if he’s watching the bridge,” Turner answered.
“Then let’s take a boat off the island.”
“He’ll more than likely just follow you back to Texas,” Frank said. “We’d best get him now when he’s not expecting it.”
“How do you know he’s not expecting it?” she asked.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” said Luke.
“Actually,” Turner added, “I’d like one of you to stay behind, too.”
“Don’t be silly,” Casey said. “I’ve got things under control here.” She held up her gun.
Turner didn’t say anything, but he cut Chase a look, and Reese would bet Chase would be somewhere outside.
The other guys started to walk out, but hung right outside the door. Turner moved closer. For a second, she thought he was going to kis
s her, and she was kind of hoping he would, but all he did was brush the back of his hand against hers. “I’ll be back.”
“You’d better,” she said, holding her breath from the need to throw herself in his arms.
He winked.
Reese watched him walk out. The door shut, and the click somehow sounded sad. Like an awkward goodbye. She bit down on her lip trying to fight the sudden swell of emotion.
“Bless my grits,” Casey said.
Reese looked back at Casey and found her staring. “What?”
The older woman smiled. “You two already made up and done the ugly.”
• • •
I should have kissed her. I should have told her I loved her. Turner rode with Frank to another beach house where all the guys were supposed to meet and get the plan firmed up. As Frank drove, he talked about his idea, but Turner couldn’t pull his mind off Reese.
Why the hell hadn’t he kissed her? Because he hadn’t wanted Cary and Danny to start riding his ass. Because part of him was still scared. He closed his eyes and saw the look in her eyes right before he’d walked out. She’d wanted him to kiss her. Shit!
What kind of idiot had awesome sex with a woman and then walked out without kissing her goodbye? One named Turner Calder.
He’d screwed up. Yeah, he was scared, but he suddenly realized what scared him more was losing her again.
“You okay?” Frank asked.
Turner glanced at him, realizing he’d stopped listening to the guy talk. “Yeah . . . sorry, what did you say?”
Frank arched an eyebrow. “Are you up for this?”
“Yeah,” Turner answered.
“Did you even sleep?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“And Reese? Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She slept, too,” Turner answered, knowing what Frank was really asking, but he didn’t kiss-and-tell.
Frank looked at him suspiciously. “And things between you two . . . They good?”
“Yeah. Good.”
Frank didn’t look convinced, but damn it, Turner didn’t want to bare his soul to anyone. Anyone except Reese.
Divorced, Desperate and Dangerous Page 9