by Lynsay Sands
Abigail had finished her dip quickly and got out of the water, intending to let her bra and panties dry before pulling on her jeans and tank top again. Letting the heavier clothes dry from sleeping in the surf had seemed a good idea too, but Tomasso had insisted he thought she should dress right away. Her clothes would dry on her, he'd said, and it was better to be prepared for anything. So she'd pulled on the damp clothes.
Instead of a spear, Tomasso had returned from his sojourn into the jungle with half a dozen coconuts. She'd supposed he hadn't been able to find anything to use as a spear. They'd had to make do with the coconuts for breakfast. She hadn't minded. Fish would have been nice too, but she liked coconut. Besides, when you were hungry and thirsty enough, coconut water and coconut fruit were like manna. However, Tomasso had urged her to eat quickly so they could get on their way. Abigail had been a little surprised at that, since he'd thought traveling at night was better the day before, but she hadn't said anything, merely drank and ate quickly and stood up to join him when he said it was time to leave.
Now they were walking along the edge of the jungle, slogging through sand, but in the shade and they'd been talking the whole while. Well, truthfully, Tomasso had been asking short questions, and Abigail had been answering, telling him about her life. He hadn't done much talking at all. He'd listened, grim-faced and pale, and she was beginning to worry that he might be coming down with something serious.
"Your father?" Tomasso said suddenly.
Abigail glanced his way, noting anew that his skin was really, really pale, and that the strained look to his face had intensified. It looked almost as if he were in pain, she thought with a frown.
"You never mention him," Tomasso added, when she didn't respond right away.
"Oh. He wasn't a part of my life," Abigail muttered, then asked with concern, "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Tomasso said shortly. "Why was he not a part of your life?"
She hesitated, quite sure this new testiness was a sign that Tomasso wasn't fine at all, but finally explained, "He was Mom's high school sweetheart who got her pregnant, then wanted her to get an abortion. She refused. She wanted to have me so he dumped her, took off to college and followed that up with moving to California, never to be seen or heard from again."
"Never?" he asked, sounding shocked at the thought.
Abigail hesitated, but then admitted. "I got a card from him when Mom died. His family in our hometown had heard of her death and had given him the news. Apparently they also told him I was in medical school, which was erroneous since I wasn't in medical school anymore," she said bitterly, and then added, "He wanted to come to her funeral and meet me."
"And?" Tomasso asked.
"And I told him he wasn't welcome," she admitted. Pursing her lips, Abigail explained, "To me he's just a stranger who happened to donate sperm to my existence. He's never been a part of my life, and I have no interest in his being a part of it now. Besides," she added with a grimace, "Mom would have rolled in her grave at the thought of his attending her funeral after ignoring us all these years. She never said it, but I know raising me on her own without emotional or monetary help was hard."
Shrugging, Abigail added, "He just didn't deserve to be there, and her funeral was hard enough on me without adding him into the mix. I didn't want to have to deal with that on top of everything else."
"I can imagine," Tomasso said quietly.
Abigail fell silent, wondering why she'd told Tomasso about that when she hadn't told anyone else. Not even Jet knew that her father had contacted her, and she usually told him everything in her letters. But this she'd held back. Strange, she thought, and then decided they needed to change the subject and glanced to him to ask, "Your accent is thick, you were obviously raised in Italy. How old were you when you moved to America?"
"I do not."
Abigail blinked. "You do not what?"
"Live in America," he explained. "My home is still in Italy."
"It is?" she asked with amazement.
"Si."
"Oh." Abigail turned her gaze down to her feet, wondering what that meant. He'd said he'd been taken from a bar in San Antonio and she'd just assumed that he lived there now, but if he still lived in Italy . . . Had he only been in San Antonio because of the kidnappers?
"I visit family in California, New York, and Toronto on occasion, though," Tomasso added now.
She couldn't help but notice that San Antonio wasn't mentioned as someplace he visited. He must have been in the city because of the kidnappers then, she thought. But--
"Wait a minute," she said suddenly. "If you live in Italy, how did you get involved in this kidnapping thing?"
"My brother and I volunteered to help," he said.
"Yeah, I know. You told me that," Abigail pointed out. "But how? Why fly all the way from Italy and--"
"We were in Canada," Tomasso interrupted.
"Okay," she drawled in dry tones. "Why fly all the way from Canada then? How did you even hear about kidnappings happening in Texas all the way up in Canada?"
Tomasso frowned briefly, and then muttered, "It is complicated."
"Yeah, I'll say. Feds don't usually involve outsiders in their cases," she said. "At least I don't think they do, and--oh!" Abigail gasped with surprise as she tripped over a large palm stem on the beach and nearly tumbled to the ground.
Fortunately, Tomasso immediately caught her arm and drew her against his chest to save her from falling. She went still as she came to rest against him, and so did he, but Abigail could hear his heart thumping under her ear and it was racing as if they'd been running.
Raising her head, she peered uncertainly up at him, saw his head lowering toward her and closed her eyes as his mouth descended on hers. It was like the sunlight after a long winter, or a cool breeze on a boiling day. He'd been so distant with her all day that Abigail hadn't known what to do or think. She'd worried she'd done something wrong, or that she'd unintentionally said something to offend him. Or perhaps she'd been too easy, turned him off with how quickly she'd given in to him, and how far she'd let him go so soon after meeting.
Abigail had racked her brain trying to figure out what had happened to change things, so this return to their earlier passion was more than a relief. He still wanted her. And she knew he did want her. She could feel the proof of it pressing against her stomach and couldn't resist brushing her hand lightly over the leafy loincloth barely covering that proof.
Her touch brought a growl from Tomasso's mouth that reverberated through her own, and then he suddenly picked her up and carried her to the nearest palm tree.
Abigail felt the trunk press against her back, and then blinked her eyes open when he suddenly pulled back slightly. Holding her in place with his lower body pressed to hers, he began to tug at her tank top, dragging it up her body and out of the way. She raised her arms then to allow him to remove it completely and it soon went flying to the sand. Her bra quickly followed. Tomasso immediately bent his head to claim what he'd revealed, running his mouth and tongue over the soft globes and suckling briefly at each nipple as he squeezed with his hands.
Continuing to knead the soft flesh, he then began to kiss a trail up to her neck and Abigail moaned and leaned her head back and to the side to give him better access. His mouth stopped, she felt something press against her skin and then he suddenly released her and jumped back like she was on fire. Without his weight to hold her up, Abigail immediately dropped to the jungle floor like a stone. It happened so fast she didn't even have the chance to get her feet beneath her, but landed on her butt in the sand.
"We should rest and eat."
Abigail blinked her eyes open in shock both from her fall and at that snarl. She was just in time to see Tomasso's bare ass disappearing into the trees. His hands were clenched, his back stiff. It looked to her like he was angry and she had no idea why. In fact, she had no idea what had just happened.
He'd kissed her. She'd responded. And then he'd jumped away fr
Yesterday he'd been all over her at every turn. Today he was Mr. Freeze, then he was all over her again, and then in the middle of it dropped her like a hot potato. Really, what was happening here?
Shaking her head, she got slowly to her feet and brushed the sand off her bottom. Fortunately, she hadn't been hurt when he'd dropped her, at least not physically. Emotionally, though, Abigail was confused and hurt and completely at sea. She didn't understand what had changed . . . except that they'd walked all day, so were a day closer to civilization.
Perhaps that was it, Abigail thought suddenly. They were a day closer to civilization. Another day or so and they should find people and habitation. At least she hoped they would. She certainly didn't want to be walking like this for days on end. One or two she could handle, but days or weeks? Man, she couldn't take that. Abigail needed clean clothes, real food, and a huge bubble bath to scrub all this sand and grit away. She also needed a good shampooing to wash this strawlike feel out of her hair. The outdoors were fine, but you could only eat coconut so many times before it began to get old.
Sighing, Abigail scowled into the trees. The truth was, she was lying her ass off. She'd loved the fish and coconut, and she would have continued to love them, and the beach, the sand, the water, the lack of amenities, and everything, if Tomasso weren't acting so distant. But it seemed the closer they got to civilization, the less interested he was in her.
That was exactly what she'd feared would happen from the beginning, Abigail thought unhappily. So much for all his hooey about her being his life mate, and life mate's meaning "everything."
Speaking of which, he'd never explained that nonsense, she thought with resentment. And nonsense was probably all it had been. A bunch of sweet words used to get into her pants. Not that he'd really got into them.
Well, okay, he had got into them, Abigail admitted, but they hadn't had sex. He'd probably been afraid she'd get pregnant or something. And she might have, Abigail realized with a grimace, so supposed she should be grateful that at least he had been thinking if she hadn't.
Turning to the water, she looked out over it through unhappy eyes. If Tomasso wanted to pretend what had happened between them hadn't happened . . . okay. She could do that. She'd give him the space he wanted and pretend she didn't want him to kiss her, touch her, and caress her. She'd pretend that she didn't care that he'd lost interest. And she'd pretend that it didn't hurt like crazy too.
"Idiota. Stupido. Imbecille," Tomasso muttered, pounding his head against the trunk of a palm tree.
He couldn't believe he'd done that. He'd been so good all day, keeping his distance, resisting the desire to touch and kiss Abigail. Then she tripped over a stupid palm stem and the next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against a tree, his mouth at her throat and his fangs sliding out, aiming for her jugular. He'd damned near bit her. Again.
"Animale," Tomasso muttered to himself with disgust. He had no control. He was no better than a wild beast right now. All he could think about, all the time, was sinking his aching cock into her warm, wet depths. But the moment he got near her throat, his fangs came out and he wanted to sink those into her too. He really needed blood. It was the only way he could make love to Abigail without feeding off of her too, and he was desperate to make love to Abigail.
Tomasso felt sure that if he spent a week or so just making love to her and sharing the life mate pleasure with her, he could tell her about himself and who and what he was and she wouldn't panic and rebuff him. At least that's what he was hoping. He was hoping to tie her to him with life mate sex so that she would accept the truth about him more easily. Or maybe overlook it to enjoy the incredible sex life mates had.
Abigail was a very sensual woman. He was sure she wouldn't be able to turn her back on him once she experienced the full breadth of pleasure they could have . . . no matter how horrified or disgusted she might be to learn what he was. Tomasso just needed to get them to civilization as quickly as possible to manage that. Of course, once he got them there he would have to make a few phone calls too, but that shouldn't take long. Then he could concentrate on her, on pleasuring her in every way imaginable and binding her to him with sex.
Breathing out slowly, Tomasso tugged his makeshift loincloth aside and examined himself. He hadn't tried the vine thing earlier when he'd thought of it. He'd decided to try just keeping his distance. Well . . . that hadn't worked out so well. It was time for more drastic measures. If his cock wouldn't behave, he'd tie it up. Although, to be frank, he wasn't sure that the added pain would really help. Certainly the agonizing cramps he was suffering with his need for blood didn't seem to be beating back his libido. But it was worth a try.
Letting the loincloth drop back into place, he turned to head further into the woods in search of vines that would serve the purpose.
Seven
Abigail reached into the shower to test the water and sighed with pleasure when she felt that it was warm enough. After these past several days of making do with dips in the ocean, it felt like forever since she'd been truly clean. She couldn't wait to soap up her body and shampoo her hair. She might even follow it with a lovely long bubble bath. Abigail loved bubble baths and would have started with that, but had worried that the water would be brown when she got out if she didn't shower away the past several days of grit and sand first.
Tugging her tank top off over her head, she tossed it aside, and then quickly removed her bra, jeans and panties before stepping under the hot spray and pulling the shower door closed behind her. At first, she just stood there, letting the warm water pound over her head and shoulders. Perhaps that's why she never heard the shower door open again, and wasn't aware of Tomasso until his chest pressed against her back.
Gasping in surprise, Abigail tried to turn, but his arms were already sliding around her waist from behind to hold her in place.
"I will wash your back," Tomasso growled by her ear, his hands gliding up toward her breasts, one of them dragging a bar of soap across her skin.
"That's not my back," Abigail gasped, squirming despite herself in his arms as he began to run the bar over first one breast and then the other.
"Si," he murmured.
"No," Abigail assured him on a moan, pressing back into him as the hand holding the bar dropped down across her stomach, leaving his other hand to massage the soap into the skin of her breasts.
"Tomasso," she gasped, rising up on her tiptoes as he dropped the bar and let his soapy fingers slide between her legs. "What are you--I don't understand. I thought you--"
"I know," he said apologetically, his deep voice soothing. "I promise I will explain. Later."
"Later," Abigail agreed on a groan, riding his hand. "Oh God."
"Si," Tomasso muttered, from between what sounded like clenched teeth and then he suddenly retrieved his hand and spun her under the water so that he could kiss her.
Abigail kissed him back eagerly, relieved that he was back to his old self again. She had no idea why he'd been acting so strangely the last days of their journey to find civilization, but he'd said he'd explain later, and she could wait. Especially when he was doing this to her, she thought vaguely as his hand slid between her legs again.
Eager to pleasure him as well, she reached down and closed her hand around the erection that had sprung up between them. But she'd barely managed to stroke him once, when he broke their kiss, caught her hand and growled, "Dio, Abigail, you make me so hungry for you."
In the next moment, he'd caught her by the back of the legs and lifted her up against the wall. He immediately moved forward then as he eased her back down, and she gasped as he filled her. It was the first time he'd actually been inside her, and Abigail moaned long and hard at the sensation as her body stretched to accept him.
"Tomasso," she cried, clinging to his shoulders as he began to raise and lower her.
"Oh God, Abigail," he ground out. "You are so tight."
"Yes," she panted, digging her nails into his back. "Please."
"You are killing me," he gasped in a strangled tone and then was suddenly gone.
Abigail woke with a start and stared with confusion at the crab sidling across the sand in front of her face. For a moment she was caught between sleep and waking and then her brain began to make sense of everything and she realized she'd been dreaming. She closed her eyes on a small moan. They had not yet reached civilization. There was no shower, no soap, no return of the passionate Tomasso. She was lying on the sand, under a palm tree in her filthy clothes, with the distant Tomasso sleeping somewhere behind her.
Sighing, she opened her eyes again and sat up to look around. By her guess it was mid-afternoon. Abigail didn't bother to check her watch this time, mostly because she didn't care what time it was. Time meant little until they did reach civilization, she thought, and glanced around for Tomasso. He was exactly where he'd been when she'd fallen asleep that morning, about twelve feet away with his back to her. This after passing out and sleeping on top of her twice or three times now. Apparently, he couldn't even bear to sleep close to her anymore. He'd chosen to bed down as far away as possible. That had hurt more than his distant behavior yesterday.
Mouth tightening, Abigail got to her feet and headed out of the trees to make her way down to the shore. They'd walked through the afternoon, evening, and night yesterday, not stopping until the sun had begun to crest the horizon. It had damned near killed Abigail to walk for so long, but she hadn't once complained, or asked to stop. The new, remote Tomasso made her so miserable, all she wanted in the world was to get to civilization and escape him.
Well, that and to find that Jet was safe and okay and not in the clutches of the kidnappers, she thought glumly. The truth was Abigail would give up her own peace of mind in a heartbeat in exchange for Jet's safety. But she'd rather have both.
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