Going Overboard (25 page)

“The shower is this way.” McKay pointed beyond the kitchen to a small yard curtained by a high hedge of oleander.

“There?” Carly stared at the blue tiles set directly into the grass beneath an outdoor shower.

“It's completely private. No one will bother you here.” He found a towel and draped it over her shoulders. “Not even me,” he said gently.

“But—” She swallowed hard aware of the pounding of her heart. It was time to face her fear, just as it was time to face her restless longing. Standing at the edge of the porch, she slid her hand into his. “It's everyone else I'm worried about, not you.”

“You didn't trust me last night.”

“How could I? Last night taught me how dangerous you can be,” she said softly. “This morning taught me that I need that dangerous strength to stay alive.”

His hand tightened on hers. “No one will find you here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me.” He reached behind her to flip on the water. “You'll feel better after you shower. I'll take your suitcase to the bedroom.”

Carly didn't move. “Don't go.” She closed her eyes,
feeling the weight of unspoken questions. “Talk to Duncan later.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don't want you to go.” She tilted her head, smiling faintly as she tugged his shirt from his jeans. “Shocked?”

He took a hard breath. “Surprised. Why the change?”

Carly tugged open his shirt with trembling fingers. “This is the part where you stop talking, McKay. Then you close your eyes and let me drive you mindless with lust.” His shirt opened and she ran her hands over his chest.

“You're sure?” he asked hoarsely.

“Sure enough to stake my life on it.” Her hands trembled on his shoulders. “Don't go.”

Gravely, he removed her jacket and sent it flying. Maybe they could work this out of their systems, and by tomorrow they'd be sane again, logical and back in control.

Fool
, a voice whispered. She still had stitches.

But there were ways around that, especially if a man was experienced.

And McKay was definitely experienced. His hellion years had taught him the power of raw lust, and he sensed Carly needed that now to burn away her terror. With the right man she'd slide free, stripped of all fears and limitations.

The thought made him freeze. The right man?

He remembered the look on her face after he'd pinned her to the floor. He remembered, too, all the things he'd done in places he'd worked hard to forget. How could a man with no future, a man with blood on his conscience, be right for a lady like Carly?

“What about love?” he asked harshly.

“What about it?”

“You know what I mean. We're not talking about deathless vows of fidelity, Carly. That's got to be clear before things go any further.” He growled the words, testing her resolve, lacerating his own.

“You mean no white picket fence and 2.5 children? No term life insurance? Are you telling me that I'm going to be a one-night stand, McKay?”

“I'm telling you there are rules,” he said tightly. “One of mine is that things stay honest. I never make promises I can't keep, Carly.” Only his control kept him from moving, from taking her quickly, blindly.

“Fine. No white picket fences.” Her head tilted. “Anything else I should know? Blood type and medical history?”

His nerves were stretched too tight for him to smile. “This isn't a game. Once we start, things will get hot and raw, probably out of control.”

Her lips curved. “Is that a promise?”

“Dammit, Carly, this is serious. It's been a while since I've had sex.” He spoke bluntly so that she would harbor no illusions. “That's what it will be. Sex. Not a relationship, not some heavenly melding of spiritual bliss.”

“Spiritual bliss can be overrated.” Her smile faded as she looked down at their entwined fingers. “Are you trying to shock me?”

“Damned right I am.” His fingers clenched on hers. “Am I succeeding?”

She was too smart not to see the risks. Too proud not to consider them carefully. “Not a chance. I told you before that I was tired of watching the parade go by. Of course, I still have stitches.”

“There are ways.”

“I bet you know them all.” Her voice was husky, almost wistful.

“Probably.”
No illusions
, he reminded himself.

“You're a dangerous man, McKay.”

“I can be.” He didn't look away, didn't soften his tone.

The words hung between them until Carly let out a ragged breath. “I'm not backing out.”

“Because you think you owe me?” he asked harshly.

She stiffened pulling free of his hands. “I don't pay debts with my body If you think that, you're a fool.”

“I don't,” he said softly. “But I had to be sure.”

“For a smart man, you can be awfully dumb, McKay.”

“Then look at me,” he said hoarsely. “Keep looking at me.” The moment his mouth touched hers, he was lost. In an instant, rules faded and reason fled in a wave of need that drove him to claim and possess. She moved her head, changing the angle of their kiss. “You mean like this?”

He closed his eyes, fighting an urge to take her then and there, without patience or care. Speech beyond him, he simply nodded. No woman had ever stripped away his control so cleanly.

She touched his jaw. “You've got a scar beneath your eye. How did it happen?”

He couldn't remember. Something to do with a man with a knife. Choppy seas, noise, and fear.

The other man had died and McKay had pulled himself out of the water, then vomited up his guts until his ribs burned. It had been his first kill. “A swimming accident,” he muttered.

She didn't answer, moving her hand to another scar at the side of his neck. “What about this one?”

McKay felt another kick of flashback. He'd been in a beachfront dive in a drug-rich South American hellhole with two killers rushing him in the darkness.

Only he had walked away.

“Deep-water dive. Current changed.”

He withheld the gory details of the encounter. Honesty—within careful limits.

“The sea again.”

He said nothing. His hands went still against her, though the effort cost him. “You want me to stop? Say the word and it will end here.”

She drew a hard breath. “I don't want it to stop.” His skin felt ready to ignite when she tugged his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. He caught her wrists, feeling her shudder as his hand skimmed her lace camisole, then slid beneath, closing around her breast. His lips followed,
teasing and goading, stretching out the pleasure until she moaned restlessly.

“Your shirt,” she rasped yanking at the black cotton and sending it flying, Her breath caught as she struggled vainly with the buckle at his zipper. Cursing softly, he finished for her, grimly aware that this was supposed to be about turning her to putty, not him. Through a haze of desire, he felt her nails rake delicately over his back.

“Always a lady,” he muttered nuzzling his way up her throat. “Maybe we need to do something about that control.” He claimed her mouth, dragging in the taste and heat of her while he shoved down her skirt.

She made a low sound when he stroked her thighs and drew away her last bit of lingerie, then parted the soft curls.

She sighed gripping his shoulders as he found her tight, hidden center. With the water a glistening spray around them, he sank to the ground and took her with his mouth.

Her sudden stiffening told him she hadn't had this kind of pleasure before, and the discovery nearly undid the last remnant of his control. Her body shook as he savored her, drawing her moan of pleasure. Knowing that no other man had touched her this way, he took his time with his sultry exploration and drank in the sight and feel of her, his blood pounding. Slowly he snapped the pleasure tight and felt her shudder as another husky cry spilled free.

“I've wanted this, wanted you. Again and again.” Rising, he backed her against the wall, needing to feel the pleasure race again, but she pushed away, tugging at his belt and cursing when the denim resisted.

“I may have to murder whoever invented jeans,” she rasped.

“I'll help you.” They finished the job together, their breath fast and straining. When it was done, she stared fiercely at him, her skin slick from the shower spray. And

then her fingers closed around him, making him shudder when she grazed him delicately with her nails.

Honor
, McKay thought, closing his eyes.
Distance and detachment.

To hell with detachment, he decided. “Put your legs around me,” he said, bracing his arm on the cottage wall. Cupping her hips, he rocked her against him beneath the hot, pounding water. “Okay? Your side—”

“Forget my side. Just let me have you now.” She was wet and tight when she sank against him, taking him within her, inch by incredible inch.

So beautiful, he thought, bringing them together with deep, rocking strokes. But he cursed when he saw the tears dotting her cheeks. “I hurt you, dammit.”

“No.” She gripped his shoulders. “I want more. I want to feel your pulse deep inside me.” Her legs locked as she drove against him urgently. “Do it now.”

McKay fought a haze of need as her body clenched, each tremor dragging him to the very edge of control. Blindly, he drove upward while spray misted their joined bodies, and she cried out his name, rocked to a shuddering climax.

He realized he should have pulled free and found protection, but she continued to move against him, her nails raking his shoulders, and then all thought was beyond him. With the shower beating hot on his back, he held her, guiding her once again to a breathless climax. Only then did he close his eyes and cry out hoarsely, spilling himself inside her.

I
'm falling.”

  He felt her fingers clutch at his arms. “Just let go,” he said. “Slide your legs along me. I'll hold you.”

She sighed as he left the haven of her body and that sound of wordless wanting nearly brought him to his knees.

He knew that he had no right to touch her, just as he had no bright, glowing future to offer. He refused to make her promises he'd never be able to keep, though it tore at some deep part of him.

Silently he lowered her to her feet, keeping his mind cool and hard as he soaped her slowly, then did the same for himself.

None of it worked. He could no more wash away his need for her than he could forget her scent or the sleek tug of her climax.

Carly turned in his arms, studying their sodden clothes on the grass. “I should pick those up, but I forget how to use my hands. Any suggestions?”

“You're asking the wrong person,” McKay said. “I'm barely able to stand up myself.”

“Here I was counting on you for all the answers,” she said huskily.

He managed to snag the towel off the grass. “If we can stagger inside, I could probably show you a few things.”

Her eyes widened as she savored his wet, naked body. “Goody, show and tell.”

McKay slid the towel around her shoulders, then picked her up in one smooth motion.

“Impressive, McKay, but what about our clothes?”

“We'll get them. In a decade or two.”

She touched his jaw tenderly. “Does this mean you've got plans?”

His body was already stirring, need flaring back to life as he carried her up the steps to the cottage. “I'd say that's becoming obvious.” He sank onto the poster bed and drew the towel along her flushed body. He had just taken her, but he already wanted her again.

Carly pushed to one elbow. “I thought there were biological parameters and endurance factors.” Her gaze flicked lower, taking in his fully aroused body. She gave a soundless whistle. “Very impressive, McKay.”

He grinned as he knelt beside her, pulling a foil square from his bag. “Glad you approve.”

Carly smiled wryly as he smoothed the protection into place. “A little late for that, isn't it?”

“If there are consequences, I'm fully responsible,” he said gravely. But even as he spoke, he fought down a sudden image of her body round with a child, knowing that a civilized, domesticated life was closed to him. Others of his profession had tried to live in that world, and most of them had failed. As far as McKay was concerned, they were fools to have tried.

He forced away his regrets and slid between her thighs, savoring the feel of her against his palm.

“How can you turn me inside out like this?”

He couldn't explain when his body was vised by the same need. All that mattered was sinking deep and hearing her small, broken cry as he filled her completely.

“Ready to stop?”

“Just try it,” she muttered, closing her teeth around his earlobe.

He couldn't resist a grunt of triumph. “Good. This might take a while.”

In moments he had them both panting, both straining breathlessly. He meant to take his time, but she convulsed against him, exhausted.

As he smoothed his hands down her shuddering body, she opened her eyes. “I can't.”

“No?” Watching her face, he rocked deep, catching her cry of giddy delight with his lips. With his pulse hammering, he took and took until his orgasm tore free and he collapsed against her.

The sky was velvet and cloudless through the lead-paned windows. Somewhere a bird called in notes of pure, liquid wonder.