Flirting with Disaster (27 page)

In lieu of that, he slid his hand beneath her shirt and settled it against her waist. When his cold hand met her warm skin, she gasped a little, her fingers tightening against his shoulder. He paused until her flesh warmed his, then moved his hand upward to close over her breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze, then teased his thumb over her tight, hard nipple. She reacted instantly, shifting against him, grinding her thigh against his erection, a moan of pleasure humming against his mouth. Her hands were moving, always moving, her fingers massaging the tight muscles of his neck, her palm pressing against his chest, her thumb stroking his jaw. A hundred different sensations bombarded him all at once. He’d never been with a woman like Lisa—so hot, so responsive, so instantly ready for anything he could imagine. He was about five seconds away from standing up, sweeping her into his arms, and carrying her off to bed when suddenly she tore her lips away from his.

“I want you,” she said breathlessly. “Right now.”

He stood up immediately, hauling her to her feet alongside him. “Bed.”

“I said
right now
.”

She sat down on the tabletop, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and pulled him right between her knees, kissing him hard and deep as she moved her fingers down the buttons of his shirt with lightning speed, then yanked the shirttail out of his jeans. She took the shirt off, tugging hard to pull the still-buttoned cuffs over his hands, then flung it aside and ran her hands up and down his arms from shoulder to elbow, a hungry look in her eyes.

“I have to touch you,” she said, her voice low and coarse, moving her lips so close he could feel her hot breath against his chest. “I have to. Everywhere.”

She reached for his belt buckle, ripped it open, then gave the fly of his jeans the same treatment. He’d barely kicked everything off before she was dragging him back again. When she took his cock in her hands, stroking it back and forth, he closed his eyes, loving the feel of her hands on him, moving so expertly, pressing hard enough to excite the hell out of him and then so gently he wanted to beg her for more. She knew what made him crazy, and she never hesitated to do it.

She lay back on the table. He pulled her jeans and panties off, and as he was tossing them aside she drew her feet up and rested her heels against the edge of the table. He moved between her bent knees and placed his palms on the table on either side of her, sliding his cock between her legs, feeling a jolt of pure lust when he found her already hot and wet. He stared down at her, his breath coming faster.

“This is insane.”

“No,” she said. “
This
is insane.”

She took hold of the sides of the shirt she wore and yanked hard. Buttons scattered, skating across the table and plinking onto the kitchen floor. She shoved the fabric away, then slowly, sensuously dragged her hands down over her breasts, her abdomen, her thighs, then traced the same path back up again, before finally crossing her arms over her head against the tabletop and giving him a smoldering look.

“I guess I owe you for a shirt,” she said.

“I don’t give a damn about the shirt.”

“Touch me.”

As he skimmed his hands over her body, her eyes drifted closed. He pressed his hands to her breasts, alternately squeezing and releasing, circling his palms around them and teasing his fingertips over her nipples. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh of pleasure, writhing gently beneath his touch.

His fingers spread wide, he moved his hands along her waist, her hips, the tops of her thighs. Pressing her legs farther apart, he eased his hands along the tender skin of her inner thigh.

Yes. There.
That smooth, perfect skin he’d been dying to touch. Cradling her legs in his arms, he lowered his head and kissed his way along the warm, soft flesh, then dragged his lips along the junction between her thigh and pelvis. But the moment he touched his tongue to her clit, her hands shot out and grasped his.

“What?” he asked.

She felt blindly for her backpack, which was still on the table, and unzipped one of the pockets. She pulled out a condom, put the plastic package between her teeth and ripped it open. Sitting up, she rolled it down over him with a few quick strokes.

“Are you always this prepared?” he asked.
Just how many
men have you slept with?

“I never leave home without them,” she said.
More than
you can count. Does that make you think twice?

“Before now, I don’t care who you’ve been with,” he told her. “But from here on out, I’m going to.”

The words rolled through his mind and right out his mouth before he ever realized he’d said them. Lisa froze. They stared at each other, breathing hard, his words hovering in the air between them. He lifted his hand and traced his fingertips over her cheek. Instantly she caught his hand in hers, then pulled him toward her, her voice harsh and needy.

“Just fuck me,” she whispered.

Those words sent the same thousand-volt shock shooting through him as they had in Monterrey, every nerve in his body coming alive with anticipation. She lay back on the table, pulling him along with her. Falling forward, he slapped his palms against the table and plunged into her with a single forceful stroke. She threw her head back with a strangled whimper and clutched his biceps, then rocked toward him in a silent plea to continue.

He began to move inside her, his pace increasing tenfold in a matter of seconds, quickly becoming a hard, furious rhythm. She rose to meet every stroke as he plunged into her again and again, the table quivering beneath them. He squeezed his eyes closed, blood pulsing wildly through his veins, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

He couldn’t get enough air. Couldn’t get enough. The room seemed to swim around him until finally it fell away altogether and he was aware of nothing on earth but Lisa spread out on the table beneath him, taking his body into hers.

For a moment he opened his eyes, and he saw her staring up at him, her eyes endless pools of emerald green, as if studying every nuance of his movements, every shift of his gaze, the slightest contraction of his muscles. He closed his eyes again, fighting the release he knew was only moments away. He wanted to know . . . needed to know . . .

“Lisa . . . ?”

He could barely say her name for the tension in his throat, for the overpowering sensation of her hot, tight sheath surrounding him. But he didn’t know if she was with him—

“Now,” she told him.
“Now!”

She dug her fingers into his shoulders and arched against him, her inner muscles tightening around him. That was all it took to send a climax slamming into him, ripping a deep growl from his throat and pummeling him with one nerve-shattering pulse after another. With every muscle taut and every nerve alive, he rode out the last shuddering sensations with deep, grinding thrusts before finally falling to his forearms over her, his head bowed, completely spent. He dropped his forehead between her breasts, trying desperately to drag in a good, solid breath.

“That,” he said, “was incredible.”

Still breathing hard herself, Lisa ran her palms over his shoulders, then stroked her fingers through his hair. “Just incredible?”

He laughed a little, sending just enough oxygen back to his brain that he could function again. He rose and took her hand, pulling her to a sitting position. She kissed him again, hard and deep, then dragged her hands along his chest.

“Let’s get a shower.”

Shower. God, if she had anything in mind like last night, he knew that this time she probably
would
kill him.

She very nearly did.

By the time they finally collapsed in bed, he was completely exhausted. It was only seven o’clock, but considering they needed to fly out of here at dawn, sleeping now would do them both a world of good.

He felt as if he’d had selective amnesia for the past hour and a half, the situation they were in disappearing from his mind altogether. But as they lay in bed now it all started to come back to him, and he knew there was something he had to do. Something he should have already done.

“I’m sure my brothers have heard what happened by now,” Dave told Lisa, rising from the bed. “I’d better give Alex a call and tell him what’s going on. I’ll be back in soon.”

She nodded and closed her eyes with a weary sigh. Her cheeks were still flushed pink from the hot shower, her reddish-gold hair still tangled and damp. At that moment, he was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.

He should be going home. He knew that. But he couldn’t fight it. He couldn’t fight the all-consuming attraction he felt to this passionate, excessive, exhilarating woman who was little more than a hundred and twenty pounds of adrenaline rush, a woman who would fit into his life, and his daughter’s life, like a leopard fits into a petting zoo.

Maybe in the light of day he’d go back to denying it, but right now, as he stared down at her, he knew the real reason he’d made her that promise all those years ago. Because he thought that someday, no matter which way life led him, if Lisa took him up on his promise, he’d have to fulfill it. One tie, one link, one tiny thread that had continued to connect them all these years.

And here they were together again.

Lisa lay awake in her bedroom, staring into the darkness. She knew why Dave had gone to the kitchen to make that phone call, even though there was a phone right beside him on the nightstand. Because he didn’t want to have that conversation in front of her, the one where he had to justify to Alex what had happened and why he wasn’t coming home. She had no idea what he would tell his brother. She was only glad he was staying. And that was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Wanting him too much.

Every moment she was with Dave was heaven and hell all rolled into one, the glorious feeling of being in the arms of a man who had lived in her heart for eleven long years, a man she’d practically been obsessed with, combined with a feeling of apprehension that sooner or later the ax had to fall. He had a life to return to in Tolosa, a child to think about, and undoubtedly there was a woman in his future who’d be the perfect wife for him and mother for his daughter.

Every time I look at you, something happens to me that I
can’t explain. It’s attraction. It’s admiration. It’s this strange
out-of-breath feeling I get when I even think about touching you.

She didn’t know what that meant, except that sex did crazy things to men. Made them do crazy things, say crazy things. For the sake of great sex, politicians became reckless, rulers abdicated thrones, international spies spilled state secrets.

Before now, I don’t care who you’ve been with,
he’d told her.
But from here on out I’m going to.

And some men turned possessive in the heat of the moment and said things they didn’t really mean.

Just always make it good for him. Make him want you so
much that he can’t stop thinking about you, and maybe he’ll
be yours forever.

Good Lord. What was she thinking?
Forever?

That was so irrational. The very idea of her sitting in Tolosa, Texas, playing soccer mom and baking cookies was so foreign that she almost couldn’t imagine it. And no reality existed where Dave would forget his family and his job and climb into the clouds with her, leaving her free to fly at a moment’s notice but still be there whenever she wanted him.

Even as she was beginning to realize just how much she wanted him, she wanted her independence more. She had the life she’d always dreamed of, and no matter where this led, she had no intention of giving that up for anything.

Or anyone.

Dave sat down in one of Lisa’s kitchen chairs, drumming his fingertips on the table, waiting for Alex to come on the line. Finally he heard his brother’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Alex. It’s me.”

“Dave? Where are you?”

“San Antonio.”

“What in the hell is going on there? Tell me there’s been some mistake. Tell me you weren’t picked up on drug charges.”

Dave steeled himself against the accusation in his brother’s voice. “You heard.”

“Hell, yes, I heard!”

“Take it easy, Alex. They haven’t charged us yet.”

“But you were arrested for carrying counterfeit drugs! What the hell was that all about?”

Dave told him the whole story, from the time he found Lisa in Santa Rios, to being chased out of town, to the moment they were picked up at the airport in San Antonio.

“Good God!” Alex said. “You mean to tell me that you were chased out of town by the police? You could be dead right now in some unmarked grave outside of Santa Rios.”

“It didn’t happen that way, Alex. I’m just fine.”

“No, damn it, you’re not fine, or you wouldn’t be in the middle of all this! You need to come home!”

“Not yet. We’re going back down to Mexico.”

“You’re
what
?”

Dave knew his brother had plenty more reprimands to heap all over him, but Alex kept quiet long enough for Dave to tell him about Adam and Gabrio and what was happening in Santa Rios.

“Okay,” Alex said. “I agree. Bad situation. But what the hell are you doing getting mixed up in it?”