Midnight Of No Return (Midnight Blue Beach Book 2)

by Olivia Jaymes

  The way his hands were moving up and down her body, exploring every inch of exposed flesh, was making it difficult to think clearly. All she knew was that she needed him in a way she’d never thought possible.

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Are you kidding? This is the greatest day of my entire life. I just want to make sure that you’re as on board with this as I am. I don’t want you to regret this afterward.”

  She bit down on his shoulder, drawing a groan from deep in his throat. “Again.”

  “Again?”

  “That’s the only thing we’re going to be doing afterward.” She trailed her tongue down his chest and flicked it over a flat male nipple. “We’re going to do this again.”

  That seemed to be the right thing to say because she was quickly pushed onto her back with his much larger body hovering above her, his gaze raking her from head to toe. He dipped his head and lapped at an already hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth. A rod of arousal went straight to her core and her nails dug into the muscles of his shoulders. He repeated the action on the other side before kissing a wet path down her abdomen, pushing her thighs wide apart.

  Her legs quivering in anticipation, the heat from his warm breath ghosted over her clit sending shivers up her spine. The first touch of his tongue was electric and her body arched as the breath was pushed from her lungs. She moaned his name as he explored her slit, his tongue everywhere, teasing and licking, but never giving her what she needed to go over.

  Josh pressed two fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that had her writhing on the bed, the sheets clutched between her fingers. Panting, she squeezed her eyes closed as her orgasm overtook her, pleasure washing over her like warm waves on a sunny beach. She rode his fingers until it was over, her entire body limp but not satisfied. She needed him.

  “Josh, I need–”

  As she reached for him, he resisted her efforts to pull him up her body, instead taking his time and kissing the inside of her thighs, her hipbone, her ribs, and then her collarbone, each tender brush of his lips turning her bones to jelly. Her fingers wrapped around him, hot and hard, and he groaned as his own hand covered hers, staying her movements.

  “Easy, honey. As worked up as I am, this could be over before it begins.”

  Positioning himself between her legs, he guided himself toward her core but then froze, his face contorting into a mask of what appeared to be excruciating pain. “Shit, I don’t have any condoms.”

  For a moment, she panicked too, and then remembered a gag birthday gift she’d received from another girl at the animal shelter where they both volunteered. Willow had laughed it off and then shoved them in her nightstand drawer. Unless the cleaning crew had moved them, they were still there. Thank heaven.

  Reaching with one hand, she tried to open the drawer but her arm wasn’t long enough. Luckily, Josh seemed to get the hint and did it for her, ripping the small box apart in his haste and tearing the wrapper before tossing it on the floor.

  Quickly and efficiently, he rolled it on and took his place again, probing her drenched slit. Slowly, aware that it had been a long time he pressed forward, pausing every now and then so she could be accustomed to his invasion. She began to move experimentally, swaying her hips side to side and sending a clear signal that she was ready for more.

  His thrusts started easy and soft, but as she wrapped her legs around his hips he sped up as they found the rhythm she craved. The coil in her abdomen tightened with each delicious stroke, his groin rubbing against her clit until she was seeing stars. Her climax ripped through her like a freight train and she cried out his name as the room spun and tilted like a carnival ride. His own orgasm had him burying his face in her neck as he plunged himself inside of her one last time.

  Their skin was covered with sweat as they collapsed, Josh rolling off to the side but tucking her into the curve of his body to keep her close. With a kiss to her damp forehead, he whispered silly, romantic things, telling her how beautiful she was and how amazing she made him feel. It was only words but somehow he made her believe every one of them.

  “Wow,” she said when she could form sentences again. “That was amazing.”

  Chuckling, he ran his hand down her back to rest possessively on her bottom. “Damn right it was, and it’s only going to get better.”

  “Braggart,” she teased, pressing a kiss to his chest, the skin salty on her tongue. “So much for modesty.”

  “I was talking about you, honey. You’re the amazing one. I was just along for the ride.”

  Hardly but she’d take the compliment. Giggling, she ran her fingers through his silky hair and then tugged on the ends. “I meant what I said. I want to do this again.”

  “My God, woman, I’m going to need a few minutes to recover.”

  He didn’t sound all that outraged though. In fact, he sounded…glad.

  “Take whatever you need. We’ve got all night.”

  With any luck, they had more than just tonight.

  In a group this small there was no such thing as a secret. From the way Chase, Ellis, Bailey, and Peyton were staring at him and Willow, they knew exactly what had been going on last night. Bailey and Peyton couldn’t seem to stop smiling and giggling, and Chase and Ellis kept slapping him on the back and grinning.

  Jesus, it was like high school but with better hairstyles.

  They were all gathered in Willow’s kitchen to prepare for Bailey’s lunch with Nigel Holmwood, Ellis barking out orders as usual as if they were troops ready to storm the castle. It had been decided that Willow was going to go with Bailey so she wouldn’t be alone but Peyton was going to stay with the men. They didn’t want to overwhelm Holmwood or scare him off, but this way if he took Bailey off track, Willow would be there to get the questions going again.

  “Use the recorder on your phone and turn it on before you sit down,” Ellis said. “Just put it on the table like it’s no big deal. He won’t suspect anything.”

  “If he’s truly part of this organization, he might,” Josh observed. “There are several reasons for him to be paranoid as hell. The first is that we’re finding out some of their secrets, the second is that he has to answer to Archer Caldwell.”

  “You assume he does,” Ellis shot back. “For all we know, Caldwell is a figurehead and the real power lies somewhere else.”

  Chase chuckled. “You’re both paranoid. I’m not worried about who’s after Holmwood. I’m worried about the safety of Bailey and Willow. That’s plenty to keep us busy today without adding to our problems.”

  “Good point,” Ellis grunted. “We keep the ladies in our sights at all times. We never take our eyes off of them. I don’t trust this guy.”

  Peyton snorted. “You don’t trust anyone, so what a shock.”

  Ellis turned toward the woman he’d been protecting for days now. “Give me one reason why I should trust this guy and I will. Just one.”

  The room was silent and finally Bailey sighed. “How about he was good to me and Frank?”

  Brows raised, Ellis shook his head. “Sorry, no can do. It’s nice that he was but it’s not enough for me to think that he’s some great guy who is going to have your best interests at heart. Right now, I consider him the enemy.”

  Willow poured herself more coffee, her expression pensive. “Is that what this is now? They’re the enemy? Is this a war?”

  “I hope not,” Josh said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She rested her head back on his chest. “I truly hope not.”

  Where there was war there were casualties.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sweat trickled down Willow’s back underneath the cotton of her sundress. She and Bailey were winding through the crowds at the Midnight Blue Beach Farmer’s Market while the midday sun beat down on them relentlessly. It had to be over ninety degrees with at least eighty percent humidity. Nigel Holmwood had to be a little insane to want to sit outside and eat in this blistering Florida heat.

  Ba
iley had her phone to her ear and was talking to Chase, Ellis, and Josh, who had spotted Nigel parking his vehicle on a side street. They should all arrive at the cafe about the same time.

  Switching off her phone, Bailey sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. “Are we ready for this? Do we know our parts?”

  Willow nodded, energy coursing through her veins and an anxiousness gnawing at her stomach. She needed answers and was impatient to get them. If Nigel had information, she wanted it.

  “If we don’t by now, then we never will. I think the important thing is to keep him talking. Let him ramble and maybe he’ll reveal something by accident.”

  “Maybe,” Bailey conceded. “Although I’ve never thought of him as the rambling type. He does love to tell stories though about his childhood growing up in London. Very entertaining. He’s led a fascinating life and traveled to some remote areas.”

  Bailey waved her arm and smiled, nudging Willow next to her. “There he is. We’re on.”

  No one had described Nigel Holmwood to Willow so she hadn’t known what to expect. Her imagination had built him into an urbane British gentleman in a tweed suit, smoking a pipe, and looking a little like Higgins from “Magnum PI”.

  He didn’t look anything like that. Tall, thin, and pale, Nigel was wearing light khaki trousers and a navy blue golf shirt with a brown pair of hurachi sandals. He looked every one of his supposed sixty-eight years with gray, thinning hair on top, wire rim glasses, and a hardly noticeable limp. He was, however, also wearing a huge smile and waving back at Bailey.

  Opening his arms in welcome, he beckoned to Bailey to come in for a hug. “My sweet girl, it has been far too long. You look beautiful, as always, if a trifle tired. Have you been getting enough rest?”

  The voice matched what Willow had heard on the phone, upper class and cultured. The old friends hugged and he kissed Bailey on each cheek, European style.

  “I’m fine, Uncle Nigel, maybe a bit tired though. I’ve had so much going on.” Bailey turned to Willow. “Nigel, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine, Willow Vaughn. Willow, this is Sir Nigel Holmwood.”

  Willow held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  Nigel shook it heartily and then pulled out a chair for each of them. “It’s nice to meet you too, Willow. Such a lovely name for a lovely woman. Now, please call me Nigel. Any friend of Bailey’s is a friend of mine.”

  The three settled at a table and the waitress came and took their drink order. Bailey waited until the young woman was a few feet away before speaking.

  “We need to talk to you, Nigel. That’s why I brought Willow with me. We know about Evandria.”

  Nigel shrugged carelessly. “Evandria isn’t a secret, my sweet girl. It never was.”

  “Then why didn’t Frank ever mention it?”

  “Perhaps it wasn’t important.”

  Willow gripped the arms of the wrought-iron chair trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. “Frank, Alex, and Greg were all members of Arsenal. You led that division.”

  Nigel’s attention swung to Willow, but his expression gave nothing away. “Yes, they were all in my section. Good men. I was sorry to hear of their passing. They were loyal to the mission.”

  “Did they give their lives for it?” Willow asked bluntly. This was exactly how they’d rehearsed it but she hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming anger that she felt toward this man. He’d known things about her husband that she hadn’t, and wouldn’t have if she hadn’t met Bailey and Peyton.

  He didn’t answer as the waitress brought their drinks but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. He hadn’t liked that question. Nigel’s gaze skittered away and then back to the two women. “The honest truth is I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know,” Bailey repeated. “Or you don’t know…for sure?”

  “I don’t know for sure.”

  “They were all killed on the exact same day and in ways to make it look like an accident,” Willow said. “On the anniversary of Evandria’s founding. That’s kind of a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Bailey wrinkled her nose. “We’re getting to hate that word. So many coincidences that they cannot be called that anymore.”

  Crumpling his napkin, the knuckles on his lined hands were white. “If you must know, ladies, I don’t think it was a coincidence. I’ve never thought Frank’s death was an accident, Bailey. That’s why I’ve been looking for the killer all this time.”

  That statement was quite a bit to take in. Willow took a sip of her water in case she was delirious. “Wait, you’re looking for the killer? For the last five years?”

  He nodded and sighed, looking unutterably sad. “You must understand. Frank, Alex, and Greg were like sons to me. I’ve never had children of my own but if I did, I’d want them to be just like those young men. I’d known them since they were children. Watched them grow up and take on adult responsibilities. You could not ask for three better men in all the world. They deserved better than what they got and that was my fault.” He leaned forward, his hand reaching out for Bailey’s. “It’s my fault they’re dead. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. I’m so very sorry.”

  Her heart in her throat, Willow choked out a reply. “How is it your fault, Nigel? Do you know who killed them?”

  He shook his head. “I have suspects but I’ve never been able to prove anything, sadly. Now at my age and with my health, I may never know.”

  “We’re going to find out,” Bailey said. “But we need your help, Uncle. Will you help us?”

  “This entire situation is too dangerous for you and I feel responsible. If they hadn’t joined Arsenal, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Bailey had gone off script slightly and it was Willow’s job to bring them back. “What is Arsenal exactly and how did it get them killed?”

  “Arsenal is an intelligence gathering initiative within Evandria. Believe me, we are well aware of what power can. The kind of power that Evandria bestows on people can become all-consuming. Arsenal is our efforts to ferret those people out and reveal them to our leadership committee.”

  Bailey’s eyes had gone wide. “You mean they were like secret agents?”

  A smile flickered over the older man’s face. “That’s one way of putting it. It was their job to investigate members that we felt were at risk and to report on them. Frankly, it’s a dangerous job and because of that we only take volunteers.”

  “And Alex volunteered?”

  Nigel nodded. “He did. Your husband was a devoted man.”

  Had Nigel actually ever met Alex Vaughn? It was like they were discussing two different men.

  “Then that would have been the only thing he was ever devoted to,” Willow replied bitterly. “Other than his own pleasure, that is. Nigel, my husband was a womanizer, a drug addict, and a drunk. Whoever killed him knew that because they used his vices to cover up his murder.”

  Wrapping his hands around his iced tea glass, Nigel’s gaze dropped. “I’ll admit the men had their issues. Knowing they were in danger and could die does have its effects on some of the volunteers. They react in different ways. Alex reacted by self-medicating but he told me that he loved you.”

  He’d told her that as well but she’d given up believing it. She’d learned that love was more than words you say. It was the everyday actions of two people building a life together. He might have loved her, but he hadn’t acted like it. That made all the difference.

  Bailey brushed a tear from her cheek. “Frank pulled away emotionally. I could never get close to him.”

  Nigel shook his head. “They should never have married. We recommend that they don’t. It’s a testament to how much they loved you that they ignored us.”

  Willow wasn’t too sure of that. If Alex had truly loved her, wouldn’t he have wanted the best for her? Even if it wasn’t him? Looking back, his actions seemed selfish. He wanted what he wanted and her happiness be damned.

  Or maybe she was simply
bitter.

  “You said this job was dangerous but I’m not sure I understand why,” Bailey said. “Supposedly Evandria is a philanthropic organization.”

  “It is,” Nigel agreed with a bob of his head. “But it’s also so much more than that. The connections and friendships one makes in a group like Evandria can take a member from a law office to the Supreme Court. Some people shouldn’t have that kind of power. We try to be careful when it comes to our members and that’s what Arsenal is all about. But remember the old saying – Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  Willow sat back in her chair. “So you’re saying there are people in Evandria that would do anything for power? Even kill?”

  Nigel rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, and we’re aware of the problem. Arsenal has existed since the day Evandria was formed but modern times have only made the schism in the organization worse. Those that want power in this world, whether it be financial or political, are willing to do just about anything to get it. We need to bring those members out and expose them to the light. It’s the only way not to be taken over by them. We have to hold strong. Otherwise…”

  “They could take over the world,” Bailey said softly.

  Nigel didn’t respond, instead drinking deeply from his glass as rivulets of sweat beaded on his forehead.

  Needing clarification, Willow pressed for more. “So let me get this straight. Evandria is at war with itself. It has good members and evil members and since the 1860s you have had a civil war within your ranks for control and power. Alex, Frank, and Greg volunteered to be secret agents and report on the evil members who want to take over the world. Someone found out what they were doing and killed them on the group’s anniversary. Is that about right?”

  Nigel nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry you ladies have gotten yourselves caught up in this. For your own safety you need to step away from this, Bailey. You need to leave this alone. Nothing good can come from this. You’re risking your life.”