For a second, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. And then he groaned in utter disappointment.
The sound relieved her. Why, she didn’t know. But knowing he was in as much agony as her eased the sting, just a little.
She started to pull away, but his hand closed over hers around his cock, and then his mouth was on hers, kissing her deeply all over again.
When she was breathless, when her libido was right back in overdrive, he drew her hand up and down his hard length, and against her mouth he whispered, “I might not be able to fuck you right now, but that doesn’t mean we have to stop.”
He let go of her hand, found her sex again, and she groaned as he sank two fingers inside her wetness. His thumb flicked her clit again and again. Electrical currents arced all through her body as he pressed her back and his mouth returned to her breasts, to her nipples, already so hard and aching for his touch.
Yes. Yes… Why had she fought this?
She closed her eyes and stroked up and down his rigid length. He groaned against her breast, thrust deeper inside her. She arched so he’d hit that perfect spot and squeezed him tighter.
His mouth trailed up toward her neck, and he raked the fingers of his free hand into her hair, drawing her mouth right back to his. Tongues fused. Their bodies slapped while the wind howled outside. He thrust deeply with his tongue; with his fingers. She stroked faster and rode the palm of his hand.
She felt him growing harder in her hand. Hotter. Longer. Knew it wouldn’t be long. And her own arousal built to a crescendo. She kissed him, as frantic to feel his release as she was her own. And when his entire body tensed, when she felt him right on the edge, she closed her hand tight around the tip and squeezed.
He groaned long and low, and she captured the sound with her mouth, stroked even faster. Warmth filled her hand, and knowing he was being consumed by his orgasm triggered her own. Bright light exploded behind her eyes, ricocheted through her limbs. Made every inch of her body tremble. Sent her entire body sailing.
And then she was falling. Through time and space. Through memories and emotions she’d vowed never to relive. Through a feeling that was so sublime she didn’t ever want it to end.
She was falling…for the man who’d broken her once before. For the one who’d saved her life, who’d taken care of her, who was every bit the sexy bad boy she’d fallen for all those years before.
Falling for the man who, if she wasn’t careful, would this time break her for good.
CHAPTER TEN
A dull, throbbing pain brought Thad’s eyes open. He blinked several times and stared up at a dirty, water-stained ceiling and a strand of light shining in through a hole overhead, warming his skin.
He tried to remember where the hell he was but came up empty. He’d been on more than one bender in his life. After Colin’s death, there was a good three to four weeks he barely remembered. But this headache didn’t feel like a hangover headache, and the kink in his shoulder had nothing to do with too much alcohol.
Groaning, he twisted to his side, realized he was in a bathtub, and pushed himself up on his hand. Memories of the night before rushed back as he fought to stop the room from swaying. The storm. Running through the sideways rain. Maren…
A wave of heat rolled across his hips, and a vision of what he and Maren had done together in this tub made him hard all over again. Blinking, he looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. The mattress lay pushed against the far wall, and the door was open. He held his breath and listened, but only the soft sound of the ocean met his ears.
The storm must have passed sometime in the night. He didn’t care when; he was just thankful it was gone. Pushing up on achy legs, he tugged up his shorts and stepped over the side of the tub. When he reached the sink, he flipped on the water, leaned forward, and splashed cool liquid on his face, then glanced up into the mirror and grimaced.
The wound across his left temple was a mix of black and blue and angry red. And yeah, it hurt like a motherfucker. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he wiped his face with a towel and turned for the door, then remembered the woman who’d attacked him.
His adrenaline shot into overdrive. He stumbled out into the bedroom and found it empty too. Broken glass from the windows lay shattered across the bed and floor. Outside on the beach, palm fronds and debris from the storm littered the bright sand, and the crystal-blue sky showed no sign of the previous night’s wrath.
But there was still no sign of Maren.
His heart rate jacked up. He shuffled toward the door, avoiding as much of the glass as he could. If that psycho woman had come back… If she’d brought friends…
His chest tightened, and fear for Maren’s safety consumed him.
The grassy area behind the casitas was littered with more debris—downed limbs, trees, and roofing materials that had blown off during the storm—but still no Maren. He rushed out onto the beach, looked up and down for her, couldn’t see her. Couldn’t see anyone.
He raked a hand through his hair, tried to think of what to do. Pain shot across his forehead, but he ignored it. His chest rose and fell with his quick breaths, making it hard to get air.
Voices echoed somewhere close. He whipped around, froze, and listened. Soft laughter echoed on the gentle breeze. Laughter he’d know anywhere.
He pushed his legs forward, jogged around the side of a small building, and finally saw her. Wearing a frayed piece of white cotton tied over her bikini at her hip like a sarong, her blonde hair billowing behind her as she stood in the sunlight, laughing and chatting with a local man who could be as old as her father.
Relief rushed through him. Overwhelmed him. Pushed out all other thought.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Her smile faded as he approached. “This is José, he’s going to—”
He captured her hand, pulled her into his chest, slid his fingers into her silky hair, and just held her close.
His eyes slid closed. Against her warmth, his heart rate slowly started to come down. She was alive. She was okay. All those crazy thoughts he’d had a moment ago…none of them were real.
He drew in a shaky breath, then let it out.
“Um…Thad?” She tensed against him.
“Scared me, Blondie.” He breathed deep again and just went on holding her, loving the way she felt against him. “You gotta stop doing that.”
“Thad?” she said again. “I can’t breathe.”
Realizing he was holding her too tight, he released her. And when she stepped away, out of his arms, he remembered they weren’t alone.
He looked toward the toothless man to his left, the one who was grinning like an old fool.
“This is José,” Maren said again, smoothing her hair. “He’s agreed to give us a ride back to camp.”
Surprised, Thad glanced back at her. She’d found them transportation. Not only had she saved his life and nursed his wounds, she was now rescuing him.
He reached for her hand, wanting—no, needing—to touch her, and smiled. “You’re taking this hero status to heart, aren’t you?”
A wary look crept into her eyes, and slowly, she tugged her hand from his, then looked back at José. “I think we’re ready anytime you are.”
“Si, si!” José said, running around the cab of the rusted Ford truck and pulling the passenger door open. “Come, come.”
Thad looked into the truck and spotted the mangy dog sitting in the middle of the bench seat, panting in the morning heat. He glanced back at Maren, who was already walking around the vehicle.
She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to ride in the back.”
José moved to the end of the truck and lowered the tailgate, then motioned for Thad to climb in. Maren was too busy petting and talking to the dog to care what he was doing. And, he had a sinking suspicion, avoiding him all together.
More disappointed than he expected, he walked to the back of the truck and climbed in. Said a thank-you to José. As he settled back against the truck’
s rear window, he shot a look inside. Maren was watching him, but when she caught him looking at her, she whipped around and faced the windshield. And she didn’t look back.
She was nervous. Unsure how to react around him after announcing yesterday that she wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, then all but jumping his bones in that bathroom last night. Warmth spread through his chest as they pulled away from the beach and he relaxed against the bouncing rig. She still wanted him. It was just freaking her out.
Something in his chest squeezed tight at that knowledge, and for the first time since coming down here, he realized exactly what had been missing from his life all these long, empty years.
Her.
He wasn’t here for revenge. He hadn’t come for restitution or to finish things for Colin. He didn’t even care about that stupid relic. He’d come for her. The minute Patrick had called him and told him what this was all about, he’d hopped on a plane, hoping—no, needing to see her. And a meaningless fling wasn’t going to do it for him anymore. He wanted her. Back in his life. The way she should have been years ago.
The muscles in his chest condensed, squeezing all the air out of his lungs, and panic filled the space left behind. But the thought of her, of last night, of the sounds she’d made and the way she’d held him close…they eased the pain until only sweet warmth remained.
He rubbed a hand against his chest, and knew in the silence that Drummer had been right. He’d never gotten over her. He was never going to be over her. She was it for him. The one and only. And yeah, he was emotionally fucked up in a lot of ways, and he’d probably screw this up before the end, but he had to try. He couldn’t go back to living his life the way it had been before: empty, lonely, nothing without her in it.
He turned his head and peered into the truck. Smiled at the way she avoided looking his way. Twisting back, he rested his head against the glass and felt a lightness inside him he hadn’t felt in years.
Nine, to be exact.
Somehow, he just had to find a way to make her realize he was exactly what she needed too.
Maren dove into her work, needing the escape. She spent her first few days back at camp helping the rest of the team clean up the site. Tropical storm Harvey had done a number on the trees and beach, but luckily their huts were in okay shape.
The team was happy and relieved to have her and Thad back. Lisa had hugged her so tight, Maren was pretty sure she’d cracked a rib. Her father had even given her the day off to recuperate after their experience, but Maren hadn’t wanted that. She needed to work and keep her mind busy.
She tried not to let his lack of emotion over her experience affect her, but it did. No wonder her mother wanted nothing to do with him. But what really burned her was his declaration that she must have been seeing things in that cenote. An earthquake, he’d told her, not a bomb. She’d obviously been imagining things. But what were the odds an earthquake and a tropical storm would hit at the same time? And what about the woman who’d attacked them during the storm?
She knew what she’d seen, dammit.
It also didn’t help that her emotions were all over the map. Not simply because her father kept downplaying her concerns, but because being near Thad, remembering how he’d felt against her bare skin—what they’d done in that bathtub—was messing with her head.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew better. At least he hadn’t been hounding her since they’d returned to camp. He’d obviously gotten what he wanted, and he was moving on. She should be relieved by that fact—and thankful she hadn’t actually had sex with the man—but for some reason, her mood was now even darker than before.
In the evenings she pored over the charts and journals her father had collected about the Conquistador and kept to herself. Since she’d been doing that for the most part since she’d arrived in Mexico, no one seemed to notice, and she figured that was a good thing too.
“Hey, gorgeous.” She was so distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t notice Drummer until he opened the screen door and eased into her casita. “What are you working on?”
She straightened, a small part of her irritated at the interruption, another part thankful because it pulled her out of her idiotic musings and overanalyzing everything she was doing wrong.
“Just going over some of these charts.” She ran a hand over her hair and sighed. “Hoping we hit pay dirt soon.”
He sat down at the table and studied the papers in front of her. “Sometimes finding a wreck is pure luck. You can plot and graph and plan all you want, but if something doesn’t want to be found, it won’t be.”
She glanced up through her glasses. “That’s a simple-minded answer, don’t you think?”
“Maybe, but I believe it to be true.”
“And it’s easier than sitting around doing boring research, huh?”
He grinned. “That too. Not everything’s about the beginning and end, Maren. The middle can be a hell of a lot of fun too. You need to sit back and enjoy the process, because before you know it, it’ll be over, and you’ll be left wondering where it went.”
He spoke like a man who knew what he was talking about, and she wanted to ask what he meant, then thought better of it. She had enough problems and didn’t need to be worrying about what made Nate Drummer tick.
She exhaled a long breath and looked back down at her charts. “Doesn’t it frustrate you that we go down day after day, yet we haven’t found anything significant?”
“Why?” He eased back in his chair and hooked his arm over the back. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. No one said this was going to be a quick project. I know we’ll find the wreck. I’m just not going to get all bent out of shape if it doesn’t happen right away.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you on some kind of timeline that makes it imperative you find the damn thing right away?”
More than you know.
She shook off the thought, told herself to stop stressing. Evan hadn’t called, hadn’t made any move toward her or Isabel. They were safe for the time being. And the man wasn’t stupid. He knew this could be a long process. “I’m just not good at waiting. I like the chase as well as anyone, but I prefer the digging.”
He pushed out of his chair. “I think you’ve been shacked up in here long enough. The camp is cleaned up. We’re diving tomorrow. A bunch of us are going into the village for a night out before Patrick cracks his whip again. Join us.”
She thought of a night out with Thad, and the nerves in her stomach formed a hot, tight ball. “I don’t think so.” She slipped off her glasses. “I’d rather stay here and try to get some more work done.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a nerd, Maren?”
She laughed, because she’d definitely been told that a time or two before—especially by Isabel. And because she knew she was so much less fun now than she’d been ten years ago.
“Come on,” he added, grasping her hand and easing her around the table toward him. “One night away from these boring charts isn’t going to kill the project.”
She frowned. “I’m not getting rid of you until I say yes, am I?”
His grin was filled with devilish delight. “Not a chance. I will sit here and bug the hell out of you like a bear on honey.”
“Like a fly on shit, you mean,” she corrected, shooting him a dry look.
He laughed. “Yeah. Like a big ol’ pile of shit.” He released her and headed for the door. “Grab your dancing shoes, Hudson. I’ll meet you out front in fifteen. The rest of the group already left. And wear something sexy.”
A frown creased her mouth as the cabin door slapped shut in his wake. The rest of the group? That meant it was just the two of them. Until they got to the village and she saw Thad.
Her stomach vibrated, but she tossed her glasses on the table and headed for her bedroom. She stopped in front of the small dresser in her room, pulled the drawer open and bit her lip. She shouldn’t go. She should stay here where it was safe. But Drummer was right. S
he needed to enjoy the process, not just the end product. And she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Lisa since coming back.
Right. She was searching for something sexy to wear for Lisa. Uh-huh. Yep. That was it. She blew out a long breath, grabbed the only skirt she’d brought with her, and cursed her stupidity all over again.
Wow, you’re getting good at the lies, girlie.
Drummer’s idea of a night out ended up being a smoky bar at one of the few resorts along the beach. This one was painted a bright pink with a few tables lit by candlelight surrounding a dance floor made of bamboo. A local band occupied the stage at one end of the open-air bar. Beyond the patio, concrete turned to sand. Palm trees swayed in the night sky, and in the distance, moonlight shimmered off the gentle waves lapping the shore.
Thad took a long pull from his beer and turned to look over the dance floor. Drummer was sashaying with Lisa, while Maren sat at one of several tables her group had occupied, purposely positioning herself away from Thad. She wasn’t avoiding him, but she wasn’t going out of her way to be overly friendly either, and he wasn’t bothered by it in the least. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment, and he knew it would come. Eventually.
Only…the new Maren was turning out to be a helluva lot more stubborn than the old one.
Patrick sipped the beer he was nursing and gestured toward the dance floor, where Drummer was spinning Lisa around. “That one there was worried about you two.”
“Who? Drummer?”
Patrick chuckled. “No, Maxwell. Insisted I send her down into the cenote as soon as she found out you two hadn’t come back up. Nearly had to restrain her to keep her from going alone.”
Thad lifted his beer and took another sip to ease the sting in his chest. After what had happened to Colin, Lisa wouldn’t think twice about risking her life for the people she cared about. And the way Lisa had glommed on to both him and Maren when they’d returned to the site had told him loud and clear how she felt about them both. “Glad you didn’t let her.”