Know Your Heart: A New Zealand Enemies to Lovers Romance (Far North Series Book 2)

by Tracey Alvarez

  “What game do you want to play?” She couldn’t draw enough oxygen into her lungs, and her breath rasped like a faulty air-conditioner.

  “Marco Polo? Cannonball jump? Catch the eel?” Laughter warmed his voice as his gaze skimmed her face.

  Someone moved—she had no idea who, because his words held her spellbound—and she plastered herself against him. Breast to chest, thigh to thigh, and groin to groin, dampness meeting heat, skin sticking together. If she’d been able to drag her gaze from his, she expected she’d see steam rising.

  She stared, drowning on dry land as his arms locked around her.

  “Are you going to get me all wet now?” Her face flamed nuclear. “That came out wrong,” she squeaked. “I meant—”

  She never finished explaining, as Glen lowered his head and kissed the explanation right out of her brain. His lips were cool and firm, but his tongue plundered her mouth, hot and demanding complete surrender. Her fingertips digging into the wedge of muscles spanning from his neck to his shoulder, Sav tried to hold some part of herself back.

  Surrender meant weakness. Surrender meant giving another man control, and she’d sworn, after Liam, she wouldn’t do that again. But, oh, Liam never kissed her like this, never made her laugh, or curse with frustration, or made her feel so damn much. He never touched her with only his words and the emotion in his eyes.

  Glen pulled back, gently nipping her lower lip. She slid a hand down from his neck, lightly raking her nails over his chest to the waistband of his shorts. Tilting her hips, she ground the length of him, at the same time getting a firm hold on his butt. The water soaking his shorts transferred into her bikini bottoms but did nothing to cool the throbbing between her thighs.

  Glen groaned, the hand resting on her lower back dropping to cup her bottom, his hips thrusting forward.

  “No games,” she whispered. “I want you—here, now.” No excuses, this time.

  His breath huffed softly on her temple, and he gave her bottom another squeeze. “I want you too. Five years of Boy Scouts taught me to be prepared—there’s protection in my pocket.”

  She licked her lips, and her internal muscles clenched as he tracked the movement like a predator spotting its prey. He gave her bottom one last squeeze before he pulled back and turned away. He moved behind her and shook out the towels, spreading them in a double layer over the rock.

  Glen knelt, pressing his face to her stomach, his lips feathering kisses from one hip bone to the other. Savannah gripped his shoulders as her legs turned to jelly. He nuzzled her belly button, and she gasped, hot shivers spreading outward, igniting her blood to a fever pitch.

  “Lie with me, Sav.”

  His voice tickled across her skin, and what little strength remained in her legs dissolved into liquid honey at his ragged plea. She sank to her knees, dragging her palms over smooth skin. Under her fingertips, his heartbeat raced and electrified hers into keeping pace.

  She swayed forward, running her lips down the stubble on his jaw until she claimed his mouth. He opened at the flicker of her tongue on his lips, mating their tongues with gentle thrusts, until she groaned. His fingers skimmed over her ribs and tugged undone the ties of her bikini top. The fabric dragged across her sensitized breasts as he removed the skimpy fabric. Then skin to skin, the contact, the rightness of his chest crushed to hers stole her breath, left her panting. Seconds later he did the same trick with her bikini bottoms.

  He lowered her to the towels, following her down with an unbreakable kiss, nudging her legs open so his big body fit snugly. The hard length of him pressed right where she wanted, heat searing through the thin fabric of his shorts. Her fingernails scraped over his ribs and hooked into the waistband.

  She dragged her mouth from his, blinking as a shaft of sunlight slipped over his shoulder and danced in her eyes.

  “Off.” She snapped the elastic waistband against his hips. “Fair’s fair.”

  Glen braced himself higher on his elbows. “Sometimes, life isn’t fair.”

  He shifted and lowered his head, flicking his tongue across the tip of her breast then pulling her nipple deep into the warm cavern of his mouth.

  All other demands died in her throat as he circled his tongue around and around, drawing every atom of awareness to one central, pleasurable point. He found the nipple of her other breast, rolling it between his fingertips. She arched helplessly, pulled on invisible strings that only he controlled. The maestro in full command of his instrument.

  Moments spun into minutes, as he teased and tortured her breasts with long, sweeping caresses until she bucked beneath him, wordlessly begging for things she couldn’t verbalize. Glen had some serious mind-reading skills, as he raised his head and skimmed a hand down her body until his fingertips brushed the soft curls covering her sex.

  Fleeting embarrassment swept over her as his knuckle parted her folds and slid easily through her slick arousal. Instinct closed her thighs, immobilizing his hand.

  “Let me touch you, Sav. Your body’s begging me to touch you,” he said.

  And it was. Crying out, demanding, pleading for his touch—for the completion she so desperately needed. Her legs fell open, and his eyes hooded while he continued to stroke her wet and swollen flesh. He circled her clit, and she whimpered, thrusting herself against his palm. So he dipped two fingers inside her, and a cry slipped past her lips. Not even the flutter of wings as a small bird exploded from a nearby tree tempered the hot twinge of pleasure deep in her core. Driving her to higher peaks, his mouth returned to her breast to lick and suck in time with his steady thrusts. She bore down on his fingers and fisted the towel beneath her until she thought the fabric would tear.

  So close, so damn close.

  “Glen…”

  His name anchored her, but before she could ask him to wait, to tell him how desperate she was to touch him in return, an explosive climax rushed through her. Flying high, flying fast, flying free.

  The fall to reality felt like plummeting off a cliff, except instead of a rocky landing, strong arms cradled her close, and a warm mouth coaxed hers into more drugging kisses. It was pointless fighting him; she had the strength of a day old kitten.

  She slid her fingers into his thick hair and managed to pull his mouth away.

  “I need you. Please.” Her voice, husky with her heartbeat still pounding through it, garnered another wicked smile as he gazed down at her. “And why aren’t you naked already?”

  “Just taking care of business, ma’am,” he drawled in possibly the worst cowboy accent, ever.

  Definitely the worst, she mused, as he rolled off her and stood. Yet her heart jolted once in a seismic shift as she realized the aftershocks jittering through her body weren’t just from an incredible orgasm. Nor from the sight of his beautiful male body, naked once he’d removed his shorts, his erection straining toward her. It wasn’t even knowing that in moments he’d be deep inside her, a connection that would shatter the last of her resistance. The not-all-unpleasant shivers told her that when Glen made love to her, each and every mask she wore to hide the real Savannah would become transparent.

  He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small foil packet. “You’re thinking so hard, I can hear wheels grinding.”

  She swallowed, propping herself onto her elbows and allowing the pleasure of studying the length of him to distract her from her thoughts. “Maybe it’s because you’re taking forever to suit up.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he ripped open the little packet as he knelt beside her. “If making love to you on a rock wasn’t going to be so uncomfortable, I’d show you just how long I could make you suffer.”

  Glen stretched out beside her on the towel. “Come here.”

  He traced a finger over her breast, circling the nipple until she squirmed into his side. He tugged her on top of him, her legs sliding over his still-damp skin to straddle his hips. The hard wedge of him pressed into her swollen flesh and she gasped, rocking herself alo
ng his length. He groaned, the muscles in his neck standing out in stark relief.

  Unable to resist, Sav bent and licked a collection of water droplets pooled in his collarbone. He tasted deliciously of sun-warmed male and the faintest hint of earthy minerals from the river water. Close enough to his throat to hear his sharp inhale, she smiled. She straightened and reached behind her, raising her hips and settling him into position.

  Their gazes locked, held fast and caught fire as she lowered herself onto him. He filled and stretched her, foreign to her body and yet so welcome, so perfect, all she could do was hiss out a slow breath. Neither one moved…or breathed. A light breeze skimmed over her shoulders, ruffling her hair. Somewhere in the distance, Java’s deep bark rolled down the valley, and a tui trilled its musical song from a nearby tree branch.

  Glen didn’t need to speak for her to read him. Years of studying and mimicking expressions in her work told her everything. He wanted her desperately. He cared about making it good for her. He relinquished control because he somehow knew she needed it. Only she didn’t know who was really in control. She was as much ensnared in his power as he was in hers.

  His hands smoothed up her legs and gripped her waist. She tightened her internal muscles, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

  “You’ll be glad to know”—his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed then opened his eyes—“that you’re killing me here.”

  She rose a few inches, delighting in the sensual friction. Then sank down. Squeezed him tight again.

  He moaned, fingers digging into her flesh.

  “And you call me dramatic.” She moved on him again.

  And again—the bliss she felt reflected on his beautiful face. His hands slipped off her waist and slid between her thighs, touching where they were joined, his knuckle pressed firmly to her clit and making her squirm.

  She rode him faster, control—both given and taken—forgotten. There was only Glen, guiding her body on his, his gaze never leaving hers as she drove them mercilessly toward the edge. They would fall, they would both fall, because together they flew too high. Her thigh muscles trembled with the strain, her knees aching from the hard rock. Her body slowed, but he smiled, tugging on her arms and pulling her onto his chest.

  “I’ve got you.” He thrust up his hips, driving into her from an angle that shot a bolt of pure sensation deep inside.

  He arched his neck, meeting her mouth with a demanding kiss as he continued thrusting. His abs shifted and strained under her belly. He pinned her hips with his hands and drove into her, over and over, until she cried out, the climax sucking her under with whirlpool force. Through the waves, he growled out her name, shudders raking through his body as he followed her down into the depths.

  ***

  Acting as Sav’s pillow was the gentlemanly thing to do.

  Glen lay close to dying after the most insanely amazing sex ever, on the world’s most insanely uncomfortable surface. He rolled his head to check if his sex-goddess had regained consciousness. She groaned as his body shifted beneath her, then he groaned as his tailbone pressed against the solid resistance of a million years of evolution.

  Ouch. But so totally worth it.

  “Are you smiling?” Sav’s face rested somewhere in the region of his right armpit, so her words came out muffled.

  “Hell, yeah.” He re-tightened his grip on her peachy bottom. “I’m going to be smiling like an idiot for the rest of the afternoon.”

  If not the rest of the week.

  If not always.

  That sobered him up and went so far as to kill the stirring in his groin currently contemplating round two. “Always” and “Savannah” didn’t belong in the same sentence. They didn’t have an always; they had a now-and-for-the-next-few-weeks.

  Small, sharp teeth sank into his biceps. “Stop fidgeting. I’m trying to decide whether I need a defibrillator.”

  Warmth curled through him, washing over any irritating thoughts of tomorrow with the prospect of more loving today.

  “So good it stopped your heart, huh?” He kissed her hair, the only part of her his lips could reach since her face was still buried against his skin. “You’re welcome.”

  “Cocky bastard,” she said and bit him again.

  He laughed, rolling her off him. He climbed to his feet, looking down at her as she lay back on the white towel, long-limbed and stretching like a cat in the sun. God, she wasn’t the only one who needed a defibrillator.

  “Sav…”

  She blinked up at him, her face open, her gaze filled with sleepy satisfaction and…affection.

  Words jammed in his throat. What exactly had he planned to say? The classic post-coital faux pas of I love you?

  Glen mustered a cheeky grin and held out a hand. She took it, and he pulled her upright, tugging her enough off balance that her warm body stumbled into his, forcing her to wrap her arms around his waist.

  “What were you going to say?” She snuggled into him, soft breasts smooshing into his chest.

  Ahhh…he had nothing.

  No game, no convenient lie to convince her she didn’t hold his heart in one of her manicured hands. He would’ve sucked big time had he chosen criminal law. Or possibly it was only around Savannah that his brain stopped functioning at full capacity.

  “Glen?”

  She’d pulled back to look at him, her brow crinkled in concern. Concern that would at any moment turn to suspicion, and suspicion to pitied understanding.

  Get that sappy expression off your face, he ordered himself. Divert her attention! Do something!

  He picked Savannah up and jumped into the pool.

  They surfaced in a tangle of splashing limbs, with Savannah’s hair tangled over her face. She shoved it off with one hand and smacked his shoulder with the other.

  “I thought we needed cooling off,” he said.

  “Glen Cooper, you are a dead man.”

  She pounced, but he was ready, catching her in his arms and taking them both under the cool green water again. He let her wriggling body go and swam around her, copping a view that would’ve dropped him on his ass if he wasn’t buoyed by water already. He pinched her bottom before gliding underwater to the other side of the pool. When he surfaced, she faced him with a determined glint in her eyes.

  He laughed. “Did an eel nibble on you, baby?”

  She shook her head, and her mock fierceness slipped. “This has to be the weirdest after-sex kink I’ve ever heard of.”

  “It’s foreplay.”

  “Oh, you are so not getting any more today.”

  “How about tonight?”

  When she grunted and rolled her eyes, he swam back to her.

  “What if I told you you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She flicked water at him, her lip curling. “Seriously? Is that the best you can do? You’ll tell me I look like a mermaid next.”

  He chuckled and stood in front of her, water swirling around his hardening cock. So much for the river cooling him off.

  “I never understood the fascination with mermaids. Sure, they have amazing racks”—he wriggled his eyebrows at Sav’s breasts floating sweetly just under the surface—“but far too many scales. And their only defense is a wet tail slap and singing. They’re weak.” He braced his hands on the sun-warmed rock either side of her shoulders. “But you…there’s nothing weak in you. And anyone who’s ever thought otherwise doesn’t know shit. You’re a princess—a warrior princess,” he clarified as her eyes narrowed. “Dressed in black leather with a bad-ass sword and the wind blowing in your hair.”

  Her gaze softened, and she slid cool hands up his chest to cup his face. “I like that you’re thinking about me in black leather.”

  He dropped his hands to her waist and hauled her flush against him, causing little eddies of water to slosh around them.

  “I think about you in your yellow dress, in your running clothes, even in those striped gumboots.” He pressed his forehead to hers and close
d his eyes. “I also think about you like this.”

  “Naked?”

  He heard the smile in her voice and smiled back, keeping his eyes shut still.

  “Yeah. Guess I can’t stop thinking about you, period.”

  “That’s mutual.” She wrapped around his body like waterweed, grinding her softness against him. “So let me show you some things mermaids can’t do.”

  Chapter 12

  A week after their impromptu skinny dip at the river, Glen alternately felt as if he’d won the lottery, and then as if he’d had his ass handed to him after a brutal fencing session.

  Living with Savannah would never be easy, but it sure was fun. She challenged him on everything. Sav offered a unique perspective on social, environmental, and spiritual issues that he’d never considered. She lit up the room just hanging out with him and Tom, and he’d never been so, damn, happy.

  But the thing that blew his mind? He’d never found it so easy to get thousands of words onto the page every day. It was as if she’d neutered his SEAL-Ninja and taken its place as his muse. Except he figured he probably wasn’t meant to dream about making crazy-hot love to his muse at every opportunity.

  He was completely, utterly, hooked on the woman.

  Case in point. Glen shut down his laptop and decided to check out what Savannah and the kids were up to in the barn. He’d kept a low profile the two times Lauren arrived this week with a car-load of five-to-twelve-year-olds ready to be Tom’s audience for a few hours. Tom’s groupies, as Sav teased him. Only somehow the sessions turned into an informal confidence-building lesson for all the kids—with Sav as the teacher.

  Drew, of course, came with his mum as the youngest. Glen also spotted eight-year-old Sophie, Lauren’s niece, and Sophie’s nine-year-old cousin, Riki. The other gap-toothed, flip-flop wearing, excitable bunch…? He had no clue. The hell of it was, going by Sav’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes at the end of each session, she was having as much fun as the children.

  Glen followed the path down to the open barn doors. He paused at the entrance, opposite Nate lounging on a wooden plank placed on two concrete blocks. Glen had been forced to move the bench, so the kids had somewhere to sit with their juice boxes instead of wandering around his deck and waving at him through the window.