by Alicia Scott
“Okay.” Her eyes drank in his perfectly formed chest, his hard, sculpted stomach. The faint smattering of pale, wheat-colored hair that trickled down from his belly button to join a thicker, darker matting. His thighs were lightly furred, the hair soft and springy. She knew how his bare legs felt against hers. She’d once run her hands freely across his rippled thighs. She’d held him in her hands, feeling him strain against her touch.
“I’m going to get into the water,” he said again. The statement still lacked conviction, but he was trying.
“Okay.” Her gaze rested on his hands, his lean, tapered fingers, his perfect, half-moon fingernails. Strong fingers, callused, firm. She remembered them stroking her neck, her breasts, her belly. She remembered those fingers moving inside her, penetrating, thrusting, driving her crazy. His tongue moving against her, his mouth sucking.
“Josie—”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him down hard. “Kiss me. Please, just kiss me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” His arm wrapped around her firmly and he pulled her against him, slanting her head and taking her deeply.
She clung to him. She buried her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. She opened her mouth to him, she opened everything to him. She wanted him, she needed him, she desired him in every way she knew how to desire. The cavern was cold, but he was warm. The stone floor was rough, but he was soothing. His tongue delved and tasted and licked and tormented. He nibbled on the corner of her mouth, then sucked voraciously on her bottom lip. He trailed hot kisses to her ear until he could suckle on her earlobe while goose bumps raced up her arms.
She caught his hand and folded it over her breast. And the first touch made her want to weep.
She thought she was tough, but maybe not really, because she would do anything for this man. She told herself she was independent, stronger than her parents. She’d lied. She needed Jack Stryker. She needed his strength, his sense of humor, his unflinching honor. She respected his values and his job and his need to do what was right.
And she needed him now, his lips trailing down her throat, his thumb brushing across her nipple. She needed every touch, taste and smell, every delicious sensation telling her she was alive and they were together and everything would be all right.
His fingers found the snaps of her jumpsuit. He ripped them down with more force than grace, plucking aside the thick cotton of her jail-issued bra. No more delicate negligees and hidden silk. Jail had robbed her of her identity, turning her into just a number with her stock-issued underwear and basic orange jumpsuit. Jail had hurt her, stolen her dignity from her, and now Jack touched her tenderly, apologizing to her with his touch, soothing, healing, mending with his gentle, soulful caresses. He carefully peeled away the horrible white cotton. He carefully folded back the hideous orange jumpsuit. And then his hands touched her breasts and his eyes grew dark and told her with his gaze how much he cared for her, how well he knew her, and how vehemently he swore never to doubt her again.
His mouth closed over her breast. His tongue rolled over her nipple. She gripped his head tighter against her and begged him thickly never to stop.
Together they fumbled with her jumpsuit, finally getting it wadded on the chain between them. The uniform panties disappeared quickly, her fingers moving faster than his.
And then for one moment they stopped. Josie looked at him. She could hear her own loud breathing in the silence. She could hear his shallow gasps, as well. His blue eyes were clear, deep and wanting. She could feel his intensity and desire across the small space separating their naked bodies. She saw his honest need.
“I love you,” she said without preamble.
He faltered visibly, looking stunned. “It’s the situation—”
“No, Stryker, it’s love. That thing everyone else has always known about but me.”
“But I doubted you. I arrested you—”
“You did your job, just the way you promised.”
“Josie…”
His words trailed off. He grimaced. She felt a thin thread of fear, but it stiffened her conviction. She hadn’t made the declaration because she’d wanted something in return. She’d told him because she meant it and she felt he had the right to know. Her parents hadn’t been perfect, but they’d taught her many things—love was to be shared, openly, honestly and generously.
And being here with Jack, feeling everything blooming in her chest, she understood why her father took the sales jobs he hated for her mother. And she understood why her mother forgave him when he got back into the game. And she understood why they raised her with so many smiles and fresh-baked cookies in a kitchen that smelled of nutmeg and vanilla.
Someday, she wanted to have a little girl—or maybe a little boy—and then she would share with them all the beautiful moments her parents had shared with her.
“Kiss me, Stryker. Hold me. Make love to me. Later, we’ll talk about ‘one step at a time.’”
She pressed herself against him, and the first tantalizing touch of bare skin against bare skin made them both catch their breaths.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered thickly, his mouth against her neck. “You’re amazing.”
And then his mouth was once more on her breast and she wasn’t thinking or talking and he wasn’t thinking or talking. She was feeling every touch he made, arching her body toward him, wrapping her fingers around him and urging him even closer.
Her legs parted. She guided him between her thighs, knowing already what she wanted. Her hips arched up. He rubbed against her and she bit her lip with the intensity.
Then suddenly, he was pulling back.
“Josie, I still don’t have protection.”
“I know.”
“We shouldn’t—”
She opened her eyes. She looked at him clearly. “No, Jack. We should. This is exactly what we should do.”
And then he was lost and they both knew it. His lips were on hers earnestly, his hands stroking her hair. His touch was gentle, his touch was tender. He told her everything she needed to know, everything he still couldn’t quite put into words.
She guided him to her body and arched back her neck and gave herself over to wonder.
The first penetration was slow. It had been a long time for her, a long time for him. There was a moment of unbelievable beauty when she opened her eyes again and thought, this is Jack Stryker, inside my body, moving in me, joining with me.
Then it felt too good to think. She closed her eyes. She gripped his flanks and urged him faster, finding his rhythm, hearing his harsh breath, knowing that it was right.
“Josie,” he gasped. His body thrust hard. “I love you, too.”
And then she was crying his name and they were tumbling over the abyss and she tasted sweat on her lips and held him even closer.
“I love you, Jack. I love you.”
* * *
“I’m going to get into the lake now.”
“Sorry, Stryker, but I’m too sore to have sex again so soon.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, I mean I’m honestly going to get into the lake now.” Then abruptly, his face scrunched up with concern. He brushed back her hair. “Did I hurt you?”
“Horribly. Wanna do it again tonight?” She smiled at him eagerly and he shook his head.
“You’re incorrigible.”
She ran her finger down his naked, muscled arm. “And you’re really sexy for a man who’s run up a mountain and crawled through a cave. Tell me, do you handcuff all your women?”
“Just the ones I don’t want to get away.”
“Oh, Stryker, that’s good. I didn’t realize you could be so smooth.”
“Hah.” He actually appeared indignant. “I have lots of talents you don’t know about yet, since you seem to enjoy sparking my temper first and forgoing the rest. I happen to be very charming.”
“Of course.”
“I also have good taste in wine, restaurants and jewelry.”
“Wow, I chose better than
I thought. What else?”
“Let’s see… Christmas presents should only be opened Christmas morning—”
“Spoilsport.”
“Children should always be read bedtime stories, couples should always walk hand in hand, and husbands should be served breakfast in bed on Sundays. I like my eggs over easy.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” she said, but she was smiling too broadly to sound firm. “I’ll agree to bedtime stories and walking hand in hand. The rest we’ll have to discuss.”
“Okay. You open your presents Christmas Eve, then serve me breakfast in bed. Compromise is so easy.”
She shook her head, tried to push him playfully, then got sidetracked kissing him again. It was warm and wonderful, and yet when they pulled away, neither could escape the chill.
The cavern with still gray with daylight. They could see better. So could their pursuer.
“Stone,” Jack murmured after a while. His face was already somber.
“I’m sure he’s okay.”
“No, you’re not. Neither of us is.” He lapsed into taut silence.
After a moment, Josie briskly rubbed his arm. “All right, let’s both get into the lake and clean up. Then we’ll move on. You said there’s an exit tunnel?”
Jack nodded, still distracted by thoughts of his partner, and pointed up. Josie stared obligingly at the ceiling, but didn’t see any signs marked Exit.
“Where?”
“Up there.” He jerked his head. “See that hole? You go out through there.”
“Uh, Jack. That’s thirty feet in the air.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a rueful smile and shrugged. “We’re not exactly on a vacation here, Josie. We’re trying to escape from an experienced assassin, and, well, that involves doing a few things I’m sure accountants don’t normally do. Honestly, a beginner can do this climb. Once we go over to the wall, you’ll see that there are plenty of places for your feet and hands. I’ll go first, finding all the handholds, and you can follow me. We’ve made it this far. We’ll be okay.”
Josie looked at the yawning well and the opening so far above them. She looked at Jack. He was right. They were in a tough spot and they would do what they had to do.
“Okay, let’s bathe quickly.”
Jack climbed into the water first, not jumping since that would drag her in. He shivered a bit, but indicated it wasn’t bad, so she gingerly stuck her foot in. It didn’t feel slimy or salty. It was just…well, water.
She gave up and climbed in. The hundreds of scratches on her arms and legs flared to life and she sucked in her breath. Beside her, Jack laughed tightly.
“Feels great, doesn’t it?”
“How can you stand it?” She’d seen his legs. He ought to be dancing a jig by now.
“I’m a man, I’m tough,” he said in a deep baritone. Then he murmured in his real voice, “Besides, my arms hurt too much to pull me back out.”
Josie laughed, and for a moment, they both felt better. They scrubbed each other’s backs the best they could and went to work on their faces. If they stayed close to the edge, they could stand on a rock shelf; otherwise it got too deep and they had to tread water. With a ton of soaked clothes hanging between them, that was hard to do.
Finally, they both sat on the stone rim, and scrubbed their clothes the best they could. They got so into the task, they didn’t hear any noise behind them.
Jack had just pulled on his underwear when Josie caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Strange that a shadow should be moving.
Then she froze, and then she knew.
She heard the high-pitched whistle first. She grabbed Jack’s shoulder without thinking and shouted “Down!” at the top of her lungs.
They fell into the water face first. Josie felt the chain between them go tight as Jack dove deeper than she did. For one moment, she jerked back hard, panicked by the feeling of being dragged down. He countered, and they both shot to the top, sputtering and dazed.
The woman in black stood on the shore. Her black leotard was now torn from her own journey through the tunnel, and her hair was a tangled blond mess. None of it seemed to affect her.
She looked at them squarely, raised her dart gun and wordlessly fired again.
They split, diving to the side to avoid the dart. Instantly, Josie realized the woman’s strategy. She wasn’t trying to get both of them, she was just trying to get one. One drugged person, sinking to the bottom of the lake and taking her handcuffed partner with her to a watery grave.
Did you ever wonder how the people on the Titanic felt?
Josie fought her way to the surface desperately. Her lungs burned, her limbs thrashed with panic. She saw the woman, already taking aim. She heard Jack, yelling in her ear.
“Inhale now!”
The whistle split the air. A dart fired through the shadows. Josie gasped, Josie inhaled, and then abruptly she was jerked down into the lake, Jack diving beneath the surface and dragging her with him. Down, down, down they went. Nothing to see, nothing to hear. Once more, the unbearable blackness pressed against her.
Still Jack went down.
Falling, falling, falling.
And then Josie realized that the woman had finally hit her mark.
Chapter Twelve
She couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear. The claustrophobia was worse than even the tunnel; she could feel the thick black water pressing against her eardrums, thrusting into the tender membranes of her nose, lips and gums. The water was clutching at her, tearing at her, fighting to get inside her where it would own her completely.
And still she sank down, down, down, Jack’s heavy body too much for her to counteract.
Josie, Josie, do something!
She tried to twist her body, but Jack’s deadweight wouldn’t let her. She tried to kick her feet, but it had no effect whatsoever. Her lungs burned. A dull roar built inside her head. Her eardrums were going to burst.
Something slimy and small brushed against her leg. She kicked out reflexively, gave in to panic and struggled in earnest.
Abruptly, Jack’s fingers curled around her handcuffed wrist. He angled straight and Josie felt his legs begin to kick. He was swimming, he was leading. He wasn’t unconscious or dead, after all. He was following a plan. She struggled behind him, trying to make her legs work when her throat was gasping for oxygen, tickling her gag reflex. At any moment, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to control it. She would choke, and the silty water would rush into her lungs.
Her hand hit slimy surface and recoiled to her side. Jack tugged her forward. Belatedly, she realized she’d hit a wall. They’d arrived at the perimeter of the cavern. Jack’s legs were still kicking and churning.
Her legs struggled with their own little kicks, no more than little flutters. But then she realized the water was no longer so black. She saw a steady lightening. They were in a tunnel, and ahead, there was light!
She joined Jack swimming in earnest. Her lungs hurt, her ears hurt. Her head throbbed unbearably. So much pressure. She wanted to breathe. She needed to breathe. She was desperate to breathe.
With one last fierce kick, Jack rocketed them out of the tunnel and toward the light. Up, up, up. The rapid ascent expanded her blood vessels until she thought her eyes would burst from her skull. Faster, faster, faster.
They broke free, their heads firing above the surface, their mouths opening and gulping for air like leaping bass. Her ears popped. She crashed back into the water, treading frantically to keep her head up and the oxygen flowing. Josie had never been in so much pain. And she had never felt so glorious. They were back in the great outdoors, the daytime sky huge and vast above them.
She was never going to live indoors again. After this damn thing, she was going to sleep outdoors surrounded by oxygen and sunlight for the rest of her life!
Her muscles abruptly gave up and she almost sank beneath the water, except Jack pulled her back up.
“The shore,” Jack gasped weakly.
She
followed. They had to rest their heads against the bank for a full minute before they could contemplate pulling themselves out.
“I’ll go first,” Jack said at last. “Help you out.”
“The…woman?”
“Still in cavern. Probably thinks we’re dead. Hope…so.”
“Me…too.”
Jack pulled himself up on arms that trembled like spaghetti and beached himself on the dirt edge with all the grace of a whale. He pulled Josie’s arm up with him, but she was too tired to follow. Her other hand was wrapped around some reeds, and she clung to them as if they would keep her afloat.
“Come on,” Jack said at last.
She groaned. Their clothes were soaked and tangled between them on the handcuffs. Jack, when he stood, was naked except for his underwear. She tried to stir the interest and energy such a sight merited, but she was beyond even that at the moment. She wanted a hot shower. Robbed of adrenaline and starved of rest, her body was now collapsing.
“On the count of three,” Jack murmured. He hunkered down and offered her his hand. His blond hair was plastered against his skull. His face was finally free of mud and twigs after their swim. Now she could see his true pallor. And she could see the goose bumps shivering his skin as the cool morning air slapped against his water-soaked form.
“Did she hit you again?” Josie asked immediately, searching for signs of a feathered dart. “I thought she did.”
Jack frowned and shook his head. “Not me, you?”
“Not me.”
“All right, then.” Jack counted to three, then lunged back, popping Josie out of the water. She beached with about the same elegance he had. And the cool morning air hit her just as fiercely.
“Sweet mother of God,” she whispered through clenched teeth. Abruptly, she couldn’t stop shivering.
“Put on your suit.” Jack ordered crisply. He was already moving, struggling to untangle his ruined dress shirt. “We can’t wander around like this. We’re too close to exposure.”
The urgency of his tone infected her actions. She jumped to, though her thick, trembling fingers took forever to do such simple tasks as smooth out pant legs and fasten snaps. After a few misdirections, she managed to get her jumpsuit on. The cold, wet material stuck to her like a second skin and sent more chills up her spine.