Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy

by HelenKay Dimon

  After Radnor left, her mother had nothing to live for except those pills. Certainly not her daughter and only child.

  Annie’s mother tried to end her life with dramatic flair, including a vial of pills, a frantic call for help and a note begging Annie to avenge her. The attempt had failed, leaving her mother broken and incoherent in a mental health facility in Washington State overlooking Puget Sound. She spent her days rocking back and forth and calling out Cliff’s name. In her twisted mind Cliff existed.

  The doctors pointed to the little amount of time Annie and her mother had spent together in recent years as the explanation. Annie wasn’t around when her mother’s drug use increased, when Cliff Radnor or whatever his real name was arrived on the scene, or when her mother tried to end it all at the bottom of a bottle. Annie had run years before and never looked back. Now, all she did was look.

  Cliff Radnor didn’t suffer from that problem or any guilt. He’d ridden off to the tropics, changed his name and started a new scheme. According to Annie’s private investigator, Radnor had surfaced on Kauai as Sterling Howard with some brewing land deal. Lucrative and as phony as the names he kept choosing for his license and life.

  The Seattle police weren’t interested. They couldn’t find other victims. Worse, they knew about her mother’s instability. Said this was just the last raving of a mad-woman before she dove over the edge.

  That left only Annie, so she’d made a decision. If the law wasn’t going to help her, then she wouldn’t follow the law.

  “Why doesn’t your agency know you’re here?” Kane asked.

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “Because?”

  “It’s a personal project.”

  “Uh-huh.” He shook the journal at her. “There anything in this about that project?”

  The biding-the-time portion of the program ended. She poised for battle. “If you want to read it, you have to get through me first.”

  Pushing off from her knees, she lunged. Hands open and arms in front of her, screaming all the way. Not in battle. In pain.

  “My knee!”

  He caught her in midair and flipped her onto her back. With his elbows close to her ears, he leaned over her. “You are a menace.”

  “You aren’t exactly a picnic in the park yourself.” Her back teeth snapped together.

  “Is your knee okay?”

  “Like you care.” The pain eased but her attitude stayed intact.

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  When he brushed his knuckles down the side of her face and across her chin, her nerve endings jumped to life. The air in the room changed as if a shot of electricity vibrated around them.

  His thumb traced her lips. “Ready for that nap now?”

  “I’m not sleepy.”

  He lowered his head until his mouth brushed against hers. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Chapter 19

  Annie tried to make a mental note of where the journal had landed when Kane swept it from the bed to the floor. Since her brain synapses kept misfiring, she doubted she’d remember anything other than the feel of him over her.

  He kissed her then. Deep and hot and long as his hands raked through her hair.

  His thighs balanced over hers. His erection pressed tight against the dampening vee between her legs. Theirs wasn’t a gentle mating. No, this was about pulsing need and frantic caresses.

  “You have too many clothes on,” he whispered against her wet lips when they finally came up for air.

  “It’s the tropical heat.”

  “More like the heat off your skin.” He dropped a line of kisses across her exposed collarbone. “You taste like fresh peaches. So alive and sweet.”

  She dropped her head back to give him greater access to her neck. Teeth nibbled against the base of her throat as his fingers tunneled under the stretchy camisole covering her breasts.

  “You are so beautiful.” His breathing turned harsh. His movements less controlled.

  With one jerk, he pulled the camisole down, freeing her breasts to his view. He didn’t wait. His lips traveled over the fleshy tops of her breast. Around in a circle, igniting the heat beneath her tender skin, until he finally landed on her nipple. Drawing the nub deep into his mouth, he caressed her with his hot tongue.

  A shot of pure need rained down her spine to the top of her legs. She grew wet as her nerves tingled and swelled. Every inch of her prepared to take him.

  Silky hair passed between her fingers as she cupped the back of his head and drew him even closer. She loved the feel of him. The balance of hard and soft. The musky scent of his neck drove her wild. His firm shoulders, firm chest, firm butt…firm everything.

  “This is a mistake,” she said as she yanked the T-shirt out of his jeans and over his head. The material drifted to the floor.

  “Definitely.” He treated her other breast to the same intensive lovemaking as the first.

  She wanted to watch him. To see his eyes as he touched her, but her eyelids slipped shut on a rumbling groan. She’d never survive this. Her body was too sensitive, too primed for foreplay.

  “Take your pants off,” she said as she placed a kiss against his hair.

  He returned the touch with an identical one. “You first.”

  Before he finished the phrase, his fingers fumbled with the snap of her shorts. Then her zipper. The clicking sound echoed in the quiet room as the teeth slipped apart.

  “Kane—”

  Whatever she was going to say died on her lips when his hand found her wetness. With gentle strokes he fingered her clit. Around the hard tip. Back and forth until her hips followed his hand.

  Soon the tension clamped down inside her, spiraling until her body shook with need. “Now, Kane. Now.”

  He stripped her shorts and panties down her legs, and her shirt off her shoulders. Before she could blink, she lay there naked and open, with her thighs spread wide on either side of his knees.

  Through her haze, getting his pants off seemed to take forever. Her patience snapped. Reaching up, she un-buttoned one button, then another, then another, until his fly lay open and his member brushed against her hand.

  She didn’t hesitate. Couldn’t. She took him in her palm. Sliding her fingers along his length, squeezing and pressing, as he grew and expanded against her hand.

  “Damn.” The word hissed out between his teeth.

  “All the way off, Kane. I want you naked.”

  He broke away and stripped down to his bare skin. Naked and proud, he stood there, threw open the nightstand drawer and rummaged around for something.

  Just looking at him made her desperate to touch him again. His tanned skin covered miles of lean corded muscles. Firm with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He was long and thick and ready for her.

  He shifted back with a small packet between his teeth. At least one of them had the sense to use protection. Safety was the last thing on her mind.

  After ripping open the foil, he kneeled between her thighs and lifted her legs. Balancing her calves on his biceps, he pressed his body against her entrance. He nudged, slipping just inside her. Letting her adjust to his size before pressing forward.

  Having her legs in the air made her vulnerable to his needs. From this position, he set the pace. Slowly slipping inside her inch by inch, filling her full. With each thrust, he plunged deeper. His length slid against her sensitive inner muscles, making her fever spike and her shoulders press deep into the pillows.

  His breathing sped up with the timing of rotating hips. More urgent and less focused, he moved in and out of her until that clenching between her legs grabbed her whole body.

  “Kane…”

  “Yes, baby.”

  With one last push, all of her muscles tightened; inside and outside she clenched and stiffened. A final surge of his body against hers forced her hips off the bed. A flush of heat and her lower body let go, convulsing and pulsing as a wave of dizziness hit her.

  Her breath rushed i
n and out of her lungs, thumping against her chest walls until her shoulders shook. When her eyes dropped open again, she saw him stiffen above her. His jaw tensed, and the muscles in his neck pulled tight from the force of his orgasm.

  With a shout of satisfaction his head whipped back as his body bucked. When his body stopped moving, his head dropped forward against her.

  Soft hair tickled her breasts. She gave in to the desire to run her fingers through all that black silk.

  “I don’t think of Travers as a Hawaiian name,” she said, distracted by the heavy scent of sex in the air.

  He rolled off of her and lay on his side with a warm palm on her bare stomach. One arm stretched under the pillow, and his thigh rested between her legs as he faced her with his eyes closed.

  “I see you don’t know your Hawaiian history.” He sounded breathless.

  She loved that. “Travers is a famous Hawaiian name?”

  He opened one eye and peeked at her. “Are you always this chatty after sex?”

  “Be happy I’m not singing.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I like the idea of having a woman break into song right after an orgasm.”

  She fought a smile, then gave in. Punched him on the shoulder, too. “Get back to the story.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He rolled to his back with his arms folded above his head. “Native Hawaiians are people who can trace some portion of their ancestry to inhabitants of the islands at the time Captain Cook arrived—”

  She yawned. “So, this is going to be a long story.”

  “—in the late seventeen hundreds and stop interrupting.”

  “In seventeen seventy-eight, to be exact.” She enjoyed his shock. Guess he thought he was the only one in the room who went to high school.

  “I can see I’m not dealing with a novice,” he said with a measure of respect. “Fine, I’ll skip to the abridged version. The bottom line is if your ancestors can’t be traced back to before Cook’s landing, you’re not native Hawaiian, or so the theory of some goes.”

  She could listen to Kane’s deep voice all day. Hearing him talk with such authority on a culture about which she admittedly knew very little excited her in a way that went deeper than sex.

  “Only part of the ancestry has to predate Cook. With intermarriage and centuries of mixing, the European names continued. For me, the name was Travers.”

  “You don’t look European.” She ran her fingertips over his lips. “You’re dark with dark skin and dark eyes and sharp features. Very exotic. Very Hawaiian.”

  His cheeks reddened a bit under his tan. “About twenty percent of the population can lay claim to the Native Hawaiian title. If a resident can trace back only to missionaries or can’t find an ancestor before Cook, then, technically, they aren’t Native Hawaiian.”

  “That’s a rough standard. I can’t imagine people kept a lot of records about this stuff.”

  “You’d be surprised.” He stretched, lengthening that lean body before curling next to her again. “It’s a strong culture. Some people have traditional Hawaiian names, using the Hawaiian alphabet. Others have Anglo names thanks to European settlers.”

  “So it’s not just a matter of residing in Hawaii.”

  “Some people try to argue yes, but, really, it’s a historical issue. Folks have lived here for decades; their families go back more than a century. That’s not the key. Think of it the same way you think of Native Americans and Indian tribes. In fact, there’s a similiar push for sovereignty for Native Hawaiians. To give Native Hawaiians back their land. For self-rule. It’s a growing issue.”

  “Go back to the alphabet thing.”

  “Only five vowels and seven consonants. Never two consonants together. Look at the street names. You’ll see it. That’s why outsiders find them so hard to pronounce.”

  She slipped her arm over his chest and let her hand fall across the bulge of his bicep. A body toned by hours outside, running and working in the sun and surf. So strong and tough. So gentle in his touch yet insistent in his lovemaking.

  “Anything else you want to teach me?” she asked as she nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck.

  “I can think of a thing or two.”

  “Should I get a pen? Take some notes?”

  He dragged her thigh over his stomach to the other side of his body. The move brought her sex over his. The man was ready, willing and certainly able to teach a lesson.

  “First”—his fingers traveled up her thigh—“we’ll try a live demonstration.”

  She pressed a hard kiss on his mouth before letting him talk again.

  “And, if you need further instruction—”

  She finished his story. “Then we’ll do it again.”

  Chapter 20

  Kane’s plans to sleep in the next morning ended with an insistent poking in his side from Annie. After two more rounds of hot and wild sex the previous afternoon, including an inventive pairing over the rim of his bathtub with her in front and him behind, he figured she’d be worn out.

  When that wasn’t the case, he’d tried feeding her dinner with a dessert of after-meal sex. They’d spent the rest of the night into morning touching, kissing and hunting down more condoms. Hell, even he was sore. And tired. Damn tired.

  He finally had drifted off to sleep early in the morning when the annoying poking started. One rounded fingernail jammed right into his ribs. Over and over again.

  The woman needed a lesson in the lost art of cuddling. Usually not his favorite part of the process. He was an action man, but he needed to recharge. Damn woman needed to understand he wasn’t twenty.

  When she ended up demanding, not sex, but breakfast and coffee, he figured her batteries needed a jump, too. A different type than the kind they’d been enjoying.

  Later, with the breakfast dishes cleared, they sat down in the family room with Derek, who had arrived just as the food hit the table. Derek and Annie talked and argued, even fought over the television remote. Within minutes, Kane’s eyes slipped shut. Not normally a nap guy. But, not normally the type to get arrested and sleep with a suspect either.

  An insistent knocking came later. He had no idea how much later. Or which was worse, the earlier poking or the current knocking.

  The banging grew louder. So did Annie’s arguing with Derek.

  “Anyone going to get that?” Kane grumbled into the pillow tucked under him on the sofa.

  Having just gotten comfortable stretched out on his stomach, Kane wasn’t about to abandon his position without a fight. He thought his hard tone would clear up any confusion about his position on the issue. Someone, that someone not being him, should answer the door.

  “You go ahead.” Annie turned her head away from the argument long enough to say the phrase. Then she went back to debating her point with Derek. Didn’t even try to get the door. Too busy trying to prove her point about some indigenous flower. As if that were more important than sleep.

  “No, really, it’s fair that the guy who pays the mortgage also has to answer the door.” Kane pushed up off the couch and stalked to the front door. With each step he grumbled about the benefits of owning a studio condo.

  Annie finally glanced up. “Is he always this grumpy after a nap?”

  “Don’t know. Never seen him nap before.” Derek delivered the comment with a bit of awe in his voice.

  “Is he an alien or something?” she asked, and then came up with a few more insulting questions all centering on Kane.

  Kane thought about throwing them both out on the porch. Let them sit in the rain for an hour or two, then see how eager they were to open a door. He ignored them instead.

  “Hey.” Kane opened the door and motioned Josh inside. “Doesn’t anyone sleep in anymore?”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” Kane massaged the back of his neck, trying to work out the kinks. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on top of some not-so-innocent woman right now?”

  “Yeah, I sho
uld. We can talk about what you owe me for this later.”

  “What are we talking about?”

  “I need a second of your time. Alone.”

  “So, it’s about Annie.” Kane couldn’t come up with another explanation for Josh’s covert spy act. “I’ll probably need coffee for this. Let’s go.”

  With a wave to Annie and Derek from Josh, Kane escorted his friend into the kitchen. They barely crossed the threshold before Josh started in on Annie. “I see she’s still here. Guess that explains why no one else disappeared during the night.”

  When Josh sat down at the table and grabbed the notepad out of the pocket of his oxford shirt, Kane could sense this was going to be a tense conversation.

  “Can I have that cup of coffee first?” Kane asked, knowing he’d need the whole pot to handle this conversation.

  “You might want to make it a beer.”

  “It’s not even”—Kane glanced at the clock—“noon. Hell, when did it get to be noon?”

  He grabbed two mugs. Didn’t bother to dilute the strength with milk or sugar. He needed it straight up. Dropping into an empty chair, one that would block Josh’s view of the family room and Annie, Kane slid a mug in Josh’s direction.

  The noise from the family room interrupted them. Annie’s voice grew louder, even though the subject matter hardly called for excitement.

  “What is she yelling about?” Josh asked.

  “She’s arguing.” One of her strengths, in Kane’s view. “Something about the state’s restrictions on the importation of fruit and plants.”

  “Sounds boring as hell. Did they talk about everything interesting and now they’re stuck with that topic?”

  “Derek said something about his marine biology program and a fish nearing extinction. That led to a big debate about the fragile ecosystem. I’m guessing they’ve worked their way around to plants.” That was right about the time he drifted off to sleep.