Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy

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Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy Page 6

by HelenKay Dimon


  “We’re not talking about the nudity. On every other topic, we talk when I say we talk.”

  “When did you start paying the mortgage?” He closed his eyes. Not looking at her fine-boned beautiful face might ease the tension building in his groin.

  “The guest is always right.”

  He opened one eye. “You’re a guest now?”

  “You invited me to stay over.”

  He had. The move had surprised him more than her. He’d had sex since Leilani. Sleepovers, no. “Who could argue with that logic?”

  She poked him again. Put all her strength behind it that time.

  “Stop that.” He lifted up his arm and looked at the scratch. “You broke skin.”

  “You deserved it.”

  “For what? I’m trying to sleep.” He got a good look at her face. There on her cheeks and forehead. “You’re sweating.”

  “I’m trying to get our relationship on an equal footing. We started off wrong, what with me being naked and you…not.”

  “That part was fine with me.” More than fine. Amazing. Call him an insensitive bastard, but healthy men looked at that kind of thing.

  “I don’t like the imbalance of power between us,” she said.

  “And to adjust this alleged footing issue, you’ve decided to wear all of my clothes at one time. Yeah, that makes sense, Annie.”

  “It does.”

  “The tropical heat has rotted your brain. Maybe you’re allergic to the smell of plumeria.”

  Her eyes grew dreamy for a second. “I love that smell. As soon as I got off the plane, the scent hit me. That unique mix of greenery, rain, ocean water and flowers. Then on the way to the hotel I saw this amazing bougainvillea with mountains in the distance and white puffy clouds filling the sky. The shot would have been perfect for this calendar…” The faraway look vanished. “Never mind.”

  “What calendar?”

  She ignored the question, just as she had most of his questions. “My logic makes perfect sense. You know it.”

  He didn’t. Women spoke a language all their own as far as he was concerned. “Let’s try this.”

  He sat up and reached for the belt to the robe. She pulled back just as he grabbed the end. The move untied the knot without any effort from him. “I didn’t save you on the beach to have you die of asphyxiation in my bed.”

  “Guess that wouldn’t look good in the paper. I can almost see the headline: Police Chief Smothers Female Companion With Clothing. Very catchy.”

  She was too busy chuckling at her lame joke to complain about him sliding the robe off her shoulders. Or the sweatshirt over her head. In about a minute he had her striped down to his washed-out Arizona State University T-shirt, which on her looked oversized but sexy. The same one with a picture of Sparky the Sun Devil, the school’s mascot, right in the center of her chest. Devil. How appropriate.

  His skin itched with the need to touch her. Not the robe. Not the clothes. Her. All that creamy skin. Those full red lips. Her hard little nipples.

  “Kane?” Her tongue swept across her lips, wetting them.

  All he wanted to do was pass his own along that seam, dip inside and taste her. He shook his head to wipe out all of those erotic thoughts.

  “Go to sleep.” He didn’t recognize his own voice.

  “I think we should—”

  “Go to sleep.” Maybe if he said it over and over, he’d actually believe it.

  But she wasn’t moving. She sat straight up, as if frozen in place right there in the middle of his mattress.

  The situation called for fast thinking, quick action and absolutely no touching. Letting his fingers wander over her skin, slide under that tee, comb through that silky hair. All tempting, but his pants would catch on fire. Worse, he’d lose it like a teenage boy touching his first breast.

  “Here. Let me help.” Against his better judgment, he balanced his hands on her slim shoulders and eased her back into the pillows.

  Then whatever remained of that better judgment expired.

  He followed her down until his palms rested against the mattress on either side of her head. With his chest pressed diagonal against hers and his knees still on the bed beside her, he leaned in until his lips hovered just above hers.

  “You comfortable?” he asked.

  “No.”

  At last an honest answer. He could see from the heat banked behind her eyes and sharp kick in her breathing that his closeness affected her. The fact she didn’t hide her reaction or pretend disinterest filled him with pure male satisfaction. Made him wonder how fast he could bring her to orgasm.

  Her mouth fell open the slightest bit, luring him in. He pressed a palm against her chest, right on the upper crest of her breasts, and rubbed her skin with a gentle massage. “You still feel warm.”

  “Probably because I’m covered by a hundred and eighty pounds of warm male.”

  He brushed his lips across her cheek. “Very warm male.”

  Her fingers caressed his shoulder. “One could even say hot.”

  “What now, Annie?”

  Her sweet smile turned mischievous. Like, he-should-cover-his-balls-and-duck-for-cover mischievous.

  “We go to sleep,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

  The sensual spell evaporated. The mood changed that fast. If he were the pessimistic type, he’d think she planned this seduction scene to teach him a lesson.

  “Now, Kane. Sleep.” The caress against his chest turned into a full-fledged shove.

  The push caught him off guard. He fell back and only by kicking out his legs did he manage to stop the tumble before he landed on the floor and on his ass.

  “What are you—”

  “Sleeping.” She turned over, facing away from him, and curled deeper under the covers with a deceptively sweet sigh.

  “But—”

  “Good night, Kane.” Her voice sounded downright chipper.

  That made one of them.

  Chapter 8

  Kane nearly gave Annie whiplash when he pulled his small red pickup truck into the marina parking lot the next morning. Good thing Derek had dropped off two khaki shorts and white polo shirt outfits because she was about to ruin this one with a rehash of her breakfast toast from a few hours ago.

  “That was a lovely ride. Any longer and I would have thrown up all over your shiny dashboard.”

  Kane shifted the truck into park and stared at her. At least she thought he was looking at her. Hard to tell with his dark sunglasses. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could see his severe frown. Added to the unshaven chin and deep lines on his forehead, the look was a bit too menacing for her taste.

  “Are you always so grumpy in the morning?” she asked.

  “Frustrated.”

  “From what?”

  “Last night.” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Not funny, by the way.”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Not with the mood he was in. “Oh, come on. It was a little funny.”

  “Hysterical.”

  “You’re just mad because I didn’t fall for your bedroom stud act. You expected me to throw off my clothes and beg you to make love to me.”

  “Would that have killed you?”

  “You’ll get over it.” She hoped she would.

  Kane acted as if he was the only disappointed one in the car. Wrong. Putting a fast stop to his heavy move was the only option last night. One more inch and he would have kissed her. Lips. Hands. Clothes on the floor. Him inside her. She could see it, feel it. Her body clenched inside at the thought.

  That was exactly why she’d stopped him before they went too far. She’d come to Hawaii to gather information and settle a score. Not get laid. A side dish of Kane Travers, well, the idea tempted her more than she wanted to admit.

  Making him angry, getting his masculine pride riled up, seemed to be the only answer to stop the seduction. If he had kept up the touching, she would have caved. She couldn’t afford that right now.


  “There are words for women like you.”

  “Adorable? Irresistible?”

  He cracked a smile. “Try pain in the ass.”

  “I like my descriptions better.”

  She stuck her arm out the open window, palm up, and felt the healing heat of the bright sunshine. Across the hilly landscape off to her right, flowers bloomed in wild disarray. Scents from different plants and buds mixed together in a pungent aroma that assailed her senses. The same intoxicating smell she always associated with Hawaii.

  And chickens. Everywhere she went on the island, the little feathered critters followed. “What’s with all the chickens?”

  “Hurricane.”

  Somehow she missed a natural disaster? She must have been in the water longer than she thought. “When?”

  “Nineteen ninety-two.”

  “What?” He had to be kidding. “That was fifteen years ago. How could that have anything to do with these chickens?”

  “One caused the other. Trust me, I was here.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re saying a storm fifteen years ago accounts for the dozens—”

  “Thousands.”

  “Okay, thousands of chickens roaming around the island?” She snorted. “Is this a tale locals tell to tourists to make us look stupid?”

  “We have other stories for that. The chicken one is true.” He watched six chickens attack a piece of bread on the grass in front of the truck. “As late as the day before the hurricane hit, the weather service underestimated its force, called it a storm, and predicted it would miss us. Instead, it turned into Hurricane Iniki and slammed into Oahu and Kauai.”

  “But, to still feel the effects fifteen years later?”

  “Hawaii experienced an economic downturn. Foreign investors pulled out. Took years to rebuild Kauai. Oahu fared a little better. Basically, the economy and the chickens have never been the same.”

  She watched another chicken walk over and join the group. She swore at the birds before. Now she wished she had a loaf of bread.

  “Why doesn’t someone round them up?” she asked.

  “You ever try to catch a wild chicken?”

  “In Seattle? Hardly.”

  Kane stopped watching the chickens and started watching her. “Want to volunteer for the duty?”

  “Yeah, where do I sign up?”

  Uncomfortable under the force of his stare, she gazed out over the clear water, docks and boats…and no hotel. She realized for the first time where they really were. Chickens weren’t the only problem.

  “What happened to the hotel stop?”

  “Not necessary. I sent Josh over this morning.”

  Her heart galloped. “To my room? How?”

  Kane turned off the truck and took the keys out of the ignition. “You told me where you were staying.”

  “You don’t even know my last name.” The words rushed out of her, each one louder than the one before.

  “I do now, Ms. Annie Parks of Seattle Washington.” His sexy grin came back in full force.

  “But—”

  “One of the perks of being in law enforcement is having access to information. Tracking down your room and getting in wasn’t hard. Not for Josh.”

  “He went through my personal stuff?” The idea scared the hell out of her. Her private papers and journals. All the newspaper clippings. The report from the investigator she’d hired.

  “Nothing to go through.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your room was empty.”

  She couldn’t process whatever he was trying to say. “What?”

  “Cleaned out.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He balanced an arm over the top of the steering wheel. “You have a hearing problem all of a sudden?”

  “I’m hoping.” She tried to put the best spin on the situation. Maybe the hotel put her stuff in storage. That would be a perfectly reasonable explanation. And good news. No one would think to track down her personal property there.

  “Yeah, well, Josh said the room looked as if no one had stayed there. Completely empty.” The keys jingled in Kane’s hand.

  “That’s not possible. Where’s my stuff?”

  “No idea. Josh couldn’t even find a fingerprint.”

  Now she had something new to tick her off. “Wait just a damn minute. He ran my prints?”

  “Tried to. At my request.” Kane said that so calmly. The same way other people asked for a glass of water and tuna salad on rye.

  She couldn’t afford to be that calm. All of those months of hard work. All of that information. “How dare you!”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Not right now it isn’t.”

  “Get angry, then get over it, Annie. You knew I would find out who you are sooner or later.”

  She’d hoped for later. Much later. “So, what else do you know?”

  His smile faded a bit. “Is there more to know?”

  Relief rushed through her. He didn’t know much, and that was exactly how she wanted it to stay. “Just the name, huh? Aren’t you just the super detective?”

  “Chief. You’re still having a hard time with my job title.”

  A police car pulled up beside them. She could see the officer through the window behind Kane.

  “Ah, Kane?”

  He turned around and glanced in the direction where she looked. “It’s okay. Roy’s meeting us.”

  Sounded like the exact opposite of okay to her. Hanging out with the police chief and a DEA agent was enough for her. She didn’t need to meet a whole gang of officers following her every step.

  “Believe it or not, I don’t see the arrival as good news.”

  Kane pinned her with a narrow gaze. “That’s because you’re hiding something.”

  “Wrong.” Okay, right.

  “Uh-huh, let’s go.”

  “I’m still furious with you over the privacy invasion at the hotel.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” He opened the truck door.

  “I want to know where my stuff is.” Probably with the jerks who threw her into the ocean.

  “We’ll figure that out later.”

  Kane dropped out of the truck, leaving her no choice but to follow. If only he’d forgotten to take the keys with him. She could probably get a few blocks before the police trapped her in some kind of roadblock.

  “Good morn’n, Chief.” The other man rushed up to greet them.

  The men shook hands before Kane turned to introduce her. “Annie, this is Roy Wallace of the KPD.”

  The twenty-something officer held out his hand. Eagerness bubbled out of him. Either he’d never seen a woman before, or he had a bad case of the nerves being this close to his boss. The younger man, all six feet, hundred fifty pounds of him shifted from foot-to-foot as if he had to pee.

  “Ma’am. Pleasure to meet ya.”

  “Wallace.” Kane’s gruff voice demanded attention. “What’s going on?”

  “We found it, sir.”

  She almost hated to ask. “It?”

  “The Samantha Ray.” Wallace shot them both a hearty grin. “How ’bout that?”

  The news should have filled her with relief. She was too busy fighting off a wave of anxiety to feel anything positive. The yacht could be lost forever for all she cared, as long as the crew and passengers were fine, except Sterling Howard. She wanted to know where he was at this moment.

  Kane shook his head. “And?”

  “And, sir?”

  Kane stood, unbending and still, with his hands on his hips. “The people, Wallace. Sterling Howard? The crew? Is everyone okay?”

  “Well, see, that’s the thing.”

  “Spit it out, Wallace.”

  If the gray cast to Wallace’s skin was any indication, Kane’s strategy scared the hell out of the guy.

  “Kane, is that necessary?”

  “What?” Now he snapped at her.

  Why Kane thought that was appropriate, she’d never know. “Y
our tone.”

  “Tone?” Kane’s dark eyes grew huge. One more inch and they’d pop right out of his head.

  She tried a strategy of her own. The strategy that worked for her most of the time. Ignoring Kane and going after the weaker link. “Roy, is Mr. Howard here somewhere?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She tried again. “Do you know where he is?”

  “We can’t find him, ma’am.”

  This time she screamed at poor Wallace. “What?”

  The kid jumped twelve inches off the ground. “Well, I—”

  “What was that about tone?” Kane shot her a shut-up-now look before turning his attention back to his sergeant. “Start from the beginning.”

  The kid opened up. “The marina owner called this morning. You know, Sid. The same guy who reported the ship—”

  “Yacht,” she corrected without thinking.

  Roy misunderstood. “Huh?”

  “Continue.” Kane’s scowl deepened.

  Wallace shook his head, then kept on going. “Anyway, Sid said the ship was back in its slip, but no one was around. The radio was blaring and there’s—” His gaze darted to her.

  “What?” Kane asked.

  “Why did you stop?” She wanted to give Wallace a shake but asked the question instead.

  “Maybe the men should talk alone, sir.”

  She lost all semblance of calm. There was no way she’d go stand in the corner while the big boys talked. Nope. “Oh, I don’t think so. Spit it out, Wallace.”

  Kane gestured for the younger man to continue. “She’s not like most women. Go ahead.”

  What the hell did that mean?

  “Blood. There’s blood on the deck, sir. We have the entire area roped off. The bedroom is a wreck. There are some clothes and bags in there, but all the stuff inside looks as if it belongs to a woman.”

  Uh-oh.

  Kane’s eyes narrowed. “A woman’s small, maybe?”

  “A lot of women wear a small,” she pointed out.

  “Sir?”

  “Forget it. Tell me where we are in the investigation. Anyone reported Howard missing?”

  “Manning only. Since we can’t find Howard and the crew, we’re assuming they’re together and gone.”

  The news just kept getting worse. She’d bet every dime she had that the bags on that yacht were hers, and that all of her paperwork would be gone.

 

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