Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1

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Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1 Page 13

by Cathryn Cade


  She would ask him more questions in the morning. And he’d better be honest, or she would know the reason why.

  She lifted her head and peered out at the night, at the silhouette of palm branches against moonlight sky between scattered clouds.

  “The storm’s over. Can’t you call someone to take us back to Kona?”

  “No one is going to bring a boat out at night. Why, you wanna get away from me?”

  If he let loose that laugh incipient in his deep voice, she was going to punch him again. “I’m worried, that’s all. We have drug runners after us, remember?”

  “Not after us, after their drugs. If anyone comes, I’ll hear. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She yawned, then rubbed her eyes. “You swear you’re not going to burst into flames or something like that?”

  “Nah, Leilani would kill me if I burned holes in her sheets.” She felt him move and tensed until she realized he was stretching mightily. Then he relaxed, and reached over to pat her on the hip. “Go to sleep, wahine.” His hand rested on her hip, large and hot and somehow very reassuring.

  And amazingly, she did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Recipe for a thrill—take one Hawaiian hunk, light on fire. When he cools just enough, take him back to bed.

  She dreamed again. This time, Malu held her in his arms, carrying her high against his chest as he strode up the path through the jungle. She wore only the tiny kapa-cloth skirt and a fragrant plumeria lei, their blossoms like silk against her bare breasts. Something tickled her ear, and she reached up to find she wore a crown of the creamy blossoms, as well.

  Malu wore the flaming crown again. He looked down at her, his eyes glowing with that unearthly fire.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hanging on to his broad shoulders. She loved being carried in his arms, but this time it was clearly not for fun. His face was grim as a warrior striding into battle. Up ahead, through the heavy foliage, a red glow lit the night, as if Mauna Loa had awakened, pulsing fiery lava once more.

  “E loa’a ana ke kaulike mal lalo o ka ho’omalu o Pele,” he said, his voice rumbling like the mountain. “There will be justice under the protection of Pele’s guardians.”

  Then the mountain began to rumble with a strange, steady wop-wop-wop.

  Melia woke with a start to find herself alone in the bed. She sat up, looking wildly for Malu.

  He wasn’t hard to find. He stood at the open french doors onto the lanai, his back to her—glowing again. He was a hard, dangerous figure, his legs spread, fists clenched. Add the red-hot glow and he was the lava lamp from hell.

  She pressed her fist to her mouth, stifling the whimper trying to get out. Malu wasn’t dangerous to her—the sound that had awakened her came from outside. It was a helicopter, flying right over the house. Was it the police, come to get them? Or was it the drug runners? She feared the latter, if Malu was in fire-warrior mode. Evidently, danger brought on his heat response, as well. Nice if he’d told her that.

  Slipping out from under the sheet, she hurried over to her duffle and dug through it until she felt the soft cotton of a pair of shorts. She wriggled into them, zipped them up and then felt around until she found her sport sandals, and toed into them, lifting each foot in turn to pull the backs over her heels.

  “Stay back,” Malu ordered.

  “Sure, no problem.” His tone, hard with authority, froze her in her tracks. But then she peered around her dark corner of the bedroom. Where was her purse? If she had to run, she wasn’t going without it. And she became aware of a more pressing need. She had to pee, and she’d rather do it in a toilet than in a dark jungle. There were no snakes in the Hawaiian rain forest, but there were some big-ass centipedes. She shuddered at the thought of one crawling on her bare skin.

  She hurried into the bathroom, which mercifully had a night-light, used the toilet, gulped down a glass of water, and then peered out of the bathroom door. The sound of the helicopter was fainter, moving away. And Malu was evidently calming down—he only glowed a little around the edges. She let out a sigh of relief.

  She found her purse and tiptoed around the bed to the door in case he still thought they should leave. After a long moment, she sank down on the cushioned settee.

  Finally, Malu turned away from the lanai and came back across the room, a silent shadow in the moonlight. His normal, huge, maddeningly sexy self.

  “Why do you have your bag?” He sounded baffled, irritated.

  “Because I thought we might have to run.” Duh. He might be a hero, but he was still a man. Like she was going to leave her purse.

  “We’re not going anywhere. They’re gone.”

  “How do you know they didn’t rappel down ropes or something?”

  “Well, they didn’t do it anywhere near here.” He sat on the edge of the bed and held out his hand. “Come here.”

  She wasn’t going to, but somehow, as she rose from the settee, Melia found herself walking straight to him. The moonlight silvered his shoulder and arm, the side of his head. His eyes gleamed up at her, his face still hard but with a change of focus that sent a shiver down through her. He was intent on her now.

  She frowned at him. “Are you using your powers on me?”

  He smiled wickedly. He knew she wanted him, darn it. “Have another dream, pua?”

  “Yes. Am I going to dream of you every time I close my eyes?”

  His big hands settled on her waist. He found the waistband of her shorts and unsnapped them. “Every time. Might as well get used to it. You gonna put down your bag?”

  He zipped open her shorts and slid his fingers inside, like heated brands across her belly.

  “My purse? Um, I might need it,” she said, but her voice was breathy. She put a steadying hand on his shoulder as he pushed her shorts down, her little boxers going with them.

  “Okay.” He bent forward and pressed his lips against her bare hip. “You see something you wanna buy, tell me.”

  Melia whimpered. She couldn’t help it as he kissed his way slowly up the curve of her waist. “Does getting all fiery always have this effect on you?”

  “Nah, this is because I’m alone with you and a big bed.” He nudged her tank up with his nose. “Lift your shirt for me.”

  Her purse hit the floor with a thud as she found the hem of her shirt and drew it up slowly ahead of his questing mouth. When it cleared her breasts, his hands tightened on her waist, drawing her forward between his thighs. He nuzzled her breasts, teasing her with his mouth, his moist breath.

  “What are you doing?” She slid her fingers into his hair and arched her back, urging him closer.

  “Looking for something I want. Ah, found one.” He closed his lips around one distended nipple and sucked it into his mouth, hard. Sensation shot through her in a burst of heat and joy. She moaned as it twined downward inside her, straight to her pussy.

  Squeezing her thighs together, she moved sinuously, searching for relief. His hands slid down to squeeze her ass, massaging and fondling as he suckled her. He moved on to the other nipple, pulling it into his mouth with a deep sound of enjoyment. The sensation was even more exquisite.

  Lost in a haze of hot, twining need, Melia tried to lift her leg to climb onto his lap but found herself hobbled by the shorts tangled around her ankles. She kicked off her loose sandals and the shorts and climbed up to kneel over his thighs. He showed his approval by sliding one big hand between her ass cheeks, his broad fingertips tracing the seam down to her labia and back up again and again. Her pussy contracted with need, and she arched her back, offering herself to him.

  He traced the tiny, puckered opening of her ass, his fingers wet from her pussy. Melia jerked in his grasp, and he let go of her nipple to tip back his head. His eyes gleamed darkly.

  “Shh, I won’t do anything you don’t like,” he murmured, keeping his touch light and teasing.

  “I don’t—I’ve never…”

  “Then we won’t. Maybe one time soon.” He slid h
is fingers back down to her pussy and thrust one gently inside the sleek opening.

  “Your fingers are so hot.” Deliciously so. He exuded heat as usual, his silky skin dewed with perspiration in the humid night, but his fingers were even hotter in her pussy, even more sensitive after their earlier coupling. “Can you just direct it wherever you want it?”

  “Uh-huh. Too hot?” he asked teasingly.

  “No,” she protested, her fingers twining in his hair. “No, it feels…so good. Oh, Malu.”

  The heat enhanced the slow caress, as if he were using some exotic love toy on her. “Ride my fingers,” he suggested in that deep murmur. “Can you take two?”

  She nodded, whimpering with pleasure as he gave her a second long finger. Arching her back so that his knuckles pressed against the spot just behind her pubis, she rode his hand, pleasuring herself. When he nuzzled her nipple back in his mouth and began to suck, the double sensation was so perfect Melia began to climax, faster than she ever had before. “Malu! You’re making me come.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he urged hoarsely. “Squeeze my fingers in that hot little vise, wahine. All for me.”

  He let her keep his fingers until she was still. She took a deep, shaky breath and opened her eyes. He gave her one last caress, a long slow plumbing that said without words she’d given him the freedom of her body. Even in the darkness, Melia blushed. He made her wilder than she’d ever been with a man. She must look like a crazed beach bunny in the moonlight, with the white tank shoved up under her arms and the rest of her naked.

  “Now you.” She pulled her tank off over her head and sat back on his thighs, reaching between them to touch his penis through his shorts. Her hair spilled in a soft tangle about her shoulders. She loved being naked on his lap. It made her feel like a sensual temptress—a woman who would try anything. She smiled at him as she realized that this woman had been waiting inside her all along.

  He arched up into her touch, the heavy muscles of his thighs like iron under hers. The size of the shaft under her palm amazed her. How had she taken all of this? It was going to hurt to do so again, but she couldn’t wait. With a hum of pleasure, she stroked his stiff length, smiling in the darkness as he twitched in her gentle grasp.

  “Do you want that again?” he asked her roughly.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Good, because I wanna give it to you. Ever taken a cock in your mouth, Melia?”

  Her whole body reacted to his query, her pussy clenching, excitement shivering under her skin. Which was new, because she’d never had the slightest desire to do it before. Maybe Grant had been right about her lack of adventurousness, but only because he’d been the wrong man to experiment with. This one made her want to try things she’d only read about.

  She shook her head, her hair swishing around her bare shoulders and breasts, and he smiled, all predatory male. “Good.”

  He leaned back under her and lifted his hips off the bed, unfastening his shorts. “Can you get these off for me?”

  She tossed her hair over one shoulder and leaned over him, her breasts swinging forward. Slowly, teasing herself as much as him, she drew down his zipper, freeing his penis. It sprang up, rigid and questing. Forgetting his shorts, Melia slid her fingers around his silky, burning length.

  “Mmm, so hot,” she whispered, channeling her newly awakened temptress. “You’re going to burn my tongue.”

  His penis jumped in her grasp, and she nearly let go, startled. He reached out to slide one hand into her hair, urging her gently downward.

  “You could make me come just by talking dirty,” he said. “But I’d rather you put that sweet tongue to work on me.”

  She inhaled his scent. He smelled so good, his clean musk now tinged with the smell of sex and sweat. Obeying the silent urging of his fingers on her cheek, she opened her mouth and leaned farther to take the head of his penis inside. He was hot and silky on her tongue, foreign and yet somehow right. He groaned deeply as she used her tongue to explore the sensitive head.

  “More, ipo,” he urged huskily. “More.”

  She could feel the rigid hold he had on himself. When he thrust upward into her mouth just a little and then let out a curse, she realized he was trying not to thrust into her mouth and hurt or frighten her. She held this huge, muscular man, this superhero, in her power. It was a heady realization. She swirled her tongue again and felt his shudder.

  “Ah, more. A little more, that’s it,” he urged. “Ah, Pele…now again.”

  He showed her how to let him slide out and then take him back in again. She could take only part of him, but that didn’t seem to lessen his pleasure.

  After only a short time, he pulled out of her mouth. “That’s all of that torture I can take.” He lifted her off him.

  She licked her lips, watching as he shucked his shorts the rest of the way off and grabbed a small packet from the bedside table. He ripped it open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. What would it be like to make him lose control and come right in her mouth? Maybe before she went home, she would try it.

  Then with one smooth motion, he pushed her gently back in the pillows and moved between her legs, bracing himself on one elbow as he guided his penis into her with his other hand.

  “Now I’m gonna thank you for driving me crazy,” he promised and kissed her as he thrust into her pussy.

  His hot, hard weight on her smaller, softer body, his mouth locked with hers, his penis working into her pussy combined in a rush of pleasure so sweet she didn’t care if she came again. Just this was so exciting, so good. She slid her arms up around him, clutching his back, feeling the heavy muscles contract as he moved. She slid one hand down to hold his ass, and that was even better because she could urge him onward. He was being too careful; she wanted that friction hard and deep, even though she was sore.

  “Wrap those pretty legs around me,” he ordered, his voice a deep purr in her ear. He shoved one hand under her ass, pulling her up tight against him, and thrust harder, faster.

  Melia gasped with pleasure. She dug her heels into his ass as he surged in her arms.

  “Oh!” she cried, astonished. “Yes, harder, oh, harder!”

  He thrust inside her so hard and deep every surge of her body under his was a surrender, an acknowledgement that he claimed her. But the driving friction of his penis in her was so perfect, so perfect, she would have done anything to keep him there. She rocked up against him, claiming him as well. The bed shook under them, rocking against the wall and creaking a swift counterpoint to their coupling.

  Even this added to her pleasure. It grew and grew until at last it imploded, and she cried out to him, a long, soft cry of feminine delight.

  He went wild in her arms, thrusting even harder, then burying his face in her hair as he stiffened in her arms like a great bow. Then he collapsed, sweating and giving off waves of heat.

  Melia lay under him, cradling him, limp with sensual completion.

  When at last he lifted onto his elbows, looking down at her, she opened her eyes just enough to see him open his mouth. She shook her head, letting her eyes fall shut again. “Don’t say anything to spoil it,” she mumbled.

  He sighed gustily but didn’t speak as he moved out of her arms. Lying down beside her, he pulled her into the curve of his body. The sheet settled over her. Turning her head into the pillow, she slept again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Recipe for light breakfast—take one Hawaiian hunk, one hostile Hawaiian traditionalist, one tourist. Mix.

  “Well, well, what we got here, eh?”

  Her eyes flying open, Melia leaned up on her elbow, looking wildly for the deep, rough voice that had awakened her.

  She was alone in Malu’s bed.

  Except for the stranger who stood in the bedroom doorway. A huge Hawaiian with long hair in a myriad of little braids, through which he peered with narrowed eyes. Every inch of the brown skin that Melia could see around his voluminous tank top and baggy pants was tattooed.


  He smiled at her, baring a mouth half full of metal. “Aloha, haole wahine. Whatcha do wit’ my hoapili kāne, Malu, eh?”

  Frozen, Melia stared at him through the tumbled curtain of her hair, unable to form a word in reply. She clutched at her pillow, her heart pounding so hard she shook with it. Where the hell was Malu? He’d promised to keep her safe from these people. This tough, wild stranger must be one of Dane’s drug-running buddies.

  Then, as her knuckles struck something hard, she remembered Malu’s gun. He must have shoved it under the pillow last night.

  Holding the man’s cheerfully rapacious gaze, she moved her fingers carefully, found a familiar small bump and pulled it. The safety slid off, and she grasped the gun. Sitting up slowly, she brought the pillow with her. Then she lifted the gun from underneath and pointed it at the intruder, her finger on the trigger. She hoped he couldn’t see how badly it was shaking in her hand. In a moment, she was going to have to let go of the pillow to hold it up.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. The intruder’s eyes widened over the gun sights.

  “Take it easy, ku’u ipo,” Malu said soothingly from the bathroom door. “’S okay. This ugly mauna is a friend of mine, Keone Halama.” Keone—where had she heard that name before?

  Standing very still, the big man raised one hand, framing a vee with two fingers. “Peace, u’i wahine.”

  Malu reached the bedside. She let him take the pistol from her grasp. When the safety snicked back on, the two men relaxed visibly.

  “I wouldn’t have shot him unless I needed to,” she said grumpily. She was still shaking, a coppery taste in her mouth.

  Malu leaned over and picked up her hand, pressing a warm kiss to the back. His eyes twinkled at her over it. His hair was wet, his skin smooth and damp from a shower. He wore his red swim trunks, his gorgeous torso bare of anything but tattoos. “I’ll let you shoot him later, if he doesn’t leave.”

 

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