Authors: Kira Sinclair
He was confused by her reaction. He’d just given her a damn good orgasm and denied himself one too because he didn’t want to take advantage of her when her judgment was impaired.
Vaulting to his feet, Knox moved after her. Grasping her arm, he urged her around to face him.
“What’s wrong, Avery?” His voice was slow and deliberate. Maybe a little tighter than he’d meant, but that was probably because his dick was so damn hard he was fairly sure that any second it was going to punch through the steel zipper holding his shorts closed.
“Nothing.”
Oh, no, she didn’t.
Burying his hand in the hair at her nape, Knox pulled her up on her toes and fused his mouth with hers. It was the best way he knew to bleed off some of the tension before he exploded.
He was panting and she was glaring when he pulled back seconds later. But she’d responded to him, opening her mouth and tangling her tongue with his when he invaded.
“We both know that’s a lie, doc. Want to try that again?”
“I just...” Her gaze slipped away from him. And her body sagged in his hold. He drew her closer, sharing his strength.
“I’m not used to this kind of thing. Sex for the sake of sex. I’ve only had three lovers. And, frankly, none of them ever came close to making me feel what you just did. It...” She finally looked back at him, her expression filled with confusion. “...bothers me that you didn’t take anything. I feel like I owe you now. I wasn’t looking for a pity orgasm.”
Jesus, this woman was going to be the death of him. How could she be so worldly and sophisticated one minute and shockingly naive the next?
The problem was, he liked that about her. Liked that she could surprise him.
Not many people did.
One of his greatest skills was reading people. It had come in handy on plenty of missions, as guys turned to him to evaluate whether to trust an informant or interrogate captives.
He couldn’t quite read Avery. Well, not reliably, anyway. It was refreshing and maddening all at once.
“What about what just happened made you think that was pity, Avery?”
Taking her hand, he cupped it around his erection and hissed a breath through his teeth at the contact. “What about this makes you think I don’t want you?”
Her grip tightened, sending all the blood in his body rushing to his groin. In a minute, he wouldn’t have enough left for his brain to function. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he pulled her away. The move was torture and self-preservation rolled into one.
“But—”
Knox cut her off before her softly spoken words were his complete undoing. Honor was important to him. Always had been, but the SEALs had pounded the ideal into his head so deep it was embedded in his skull. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did what he knew Avery was about to suggest.
When she was sober. When they were back in civilization and not stranded together on an island with the threat of never being found looming over their heads, even if the emergency beacon made that possibility remote. Then, if she still wanted him in her bed, he would gladly take her up on the offer.
Until then...
“It’s late. We both need sleep.”
Scooping her up, Knox walked back to the fire. Gently, he set her on the ground and then followed her down. Placing her close to the fire, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his body, tucking her head beneath his chin and positioning her with his biceps as a pillow.
Her body was stiff. His hand settled on her tummy, and he was a little grateful she’d put her clothes back on. He needed all the barriers he could get.
Bending, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed in the clean fragrance of her shampoo, some herbs he didn’t know the names of.
She pulled in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, and then let it free, all the tension leaving her body with it.
And then all the tension left his, well, everything except the residual arousal he wasn’t going to shake as long as Avery was in his arms. But he’d live with that.
He thought she was already asleep, her breathing slow and even, when her soft words drifted over him.
“Seriously, Knox, best orgasm of my life. Thanks.”
He chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
The woman was a constant surprise.
7
A
VERY
SQUINTED
. E
VEN
THROUGH
her closed lids, the glare of sunlight made her head ache. No, wait, made everything ache. Her entire body throbbed with a steady, dull thump—a combination of alcohol, sleeping on the ground and amazing sex.
Knox McLemore had given her the best orgasm of her life. He’d played her body better than men she’d dated for months.
And he hadn’t taken a thing for himself. That bothered her, and she didn’t know what to do with it. Which only bothered her more. She wanted to regret last night. Knew she should probably feel embarrassed and guilty, but she didn’t.
Although, heat did sweep up her skin at the memory of how wanton and uninhibited she’d been. Damn moonshine.
It was probably a good thing she’d woken up by herself instead of still tucked against Knox’s hard body. His biceps might be works of art, but all those muscles were hard to sleep on.
Rolling onto her back, Avery draped her arm over her face to shield herself from the glare of the sun already high above.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept this late. Although not having an alarm, or any place to be, helped. It was actually...nice, although she’d be loath to admit that to anyone.
Actually, now that she thought about it, the warm sun on her skin felt good. A decadent indulgence. Without thinking, she arched her back, stretching tight muscles.
“Now that’s a welcome sight to walk up on.”
The low rumble of Knox’s voice melted down her spine. Her body reacted, a warm buzz slipping just beneath her skin. She found him standing in the cool shadows of the tree line.
He moved forward out of the shade, the shorts he’d worn yesterday slung low on his hips.
Knox watched her with that lazy, calculating gaze. It was an act, a shield, and she was beginning to realize he saw much more than she’d originally given him credit for.
She wondered why he hid behind it, but didn’t think it was appropriate to ask. Mostly because she wanted the answer more than she should.
But beneath that stare, her body responded, memories of last night rushing to the surface. A blush heated her skin. At this point embarrassment seemed silly, and yet she couldn’t stop it. Not when he was gauging her every response.
Propped against a tree several yards away, he cocked his head. His mouth tilted up on one side. “How are you this morning, doc?”
“Sore.”
He nodded. “I’d offer you moonshine, but I emptied the bottle and filled it with water.”
For the first time, Avery realized the bottle from last night was wedged into the ground at the edge of the fire pit, the water inside the clear glass lazily bubbling from the residual heat.
“You’ve been busy this morning.”
He shrugged, slowly pushing against the tree and strolling in her direction. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She immediately felt like a jerk. While she’d been luxuriating in no alarm clock, he’d been seeing to their survival and basic needs.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rolling to her knees and pushing to her feet. Sand ground uncomfortably against her skin, but that was something she could remedy later. The bright side was that they had plenty of water to wash off in.
Knox didn’t stop until his hands cupped her upper arms, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on her warm skin. She could feel the space between them, small yet somehow cavernous.
She glanced down. His toes dug into the sand, flexing. She’d never particularly paid attention to a man’s toes before. But she liked his.
What the hell was wrong with her?
An unwanted burn crept up her neck. Her involuntary reaction frustrated her. Left her feeling less than in control of an already slippery situation.
“I don’t mind, Avery.”
“Maybe not, but I do. I should have helped.”
His mouth twitched. “Well, why don’t you help with breakfast, then?”
He gestured to a spit where a hunk of meat that looked suspiciously rodent shaped was suspended over the glowing coals.
“What is it?”
“I have no idea, but I’m hoping it tastes like rabbit.”
Avery’s eyes went wide. “You’ve eaten rabbit?”
He chuckled, his hands slipping down her arms and then back up over her shoulders to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was probably a complete wreck, all snarls and knots.
“I’ve eaten all sorts of things you probably don’t want to know about. Rabbit is possibly the least offensive.”
Avery’s mouth twisted into an unhappy line as her gaze moved back to the sizzling meat.
“I managed to catch it while I was getting water. I was planning on spearfishing later, but there’s no reason to ignore fresh meat now.”
If it didn’t still have a face she might be more inclined to eat it without shuddering.
But he’d caught it for them, prepared it and cooked it. Growing up, the rule had been that unless you wanted chef duty next, you didn’t complain. And considering she didn’t have the skills necessary to feed them, she wasn’t going to say a word.
“Thanks.” She shifted on her feet, glancing up at him and then away.
Avery was used to being in command, of herself and the circumstances around her. There was nothing about this that felt in her control. In fact, from the moment she’d heard the name Trident Diving and Salvage, her life had been in complete chaos.
McNair was threatening her and pushing her to do something she’d regret for the rest of her life. But she was afraid she didn’t have much choice. With her parents refusing to be in her sister’s life even after the accident, Melody depended on her. Without the money her business brought in, they wouldn’t be able to afford the care facility where she lived.
Since Avery had moved her there six years ago, Melody had been making strides in her recovery. She’d regained some speech and motor skills. Taking her out of that environment was unthinkable.
She’d do whatever she had to in order to ensure her sister’s care remained constant.
Then there was Knox. With his fingers tangled in her hair and his body so close she could feel his heat soaking into her skin, she just wanted to lean into him and accept the strength and comfort he probably didn’t even realize she needed.
And then she wanted him to make her scream again.
But that couldn’t happen.
Last night her judgment had been clouded. This morning it was clear.
No matter what happened, Knox was going to be angry with her, thanks to McNair.
Apparently, he’d been right not to completely give in last night. Although she couldn’t quite muster up the energy to regret what had happened.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice soft even as his thumb smoothed over the ridges crinkled between her eyebrows.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t second-guess what happened.”
“How did you...” Avery shook her head. “I’m not second-guessing, not really. I’m...upset that you were right to hold back and disappointed it can’t happen again.”
“Mmm,” Knox murmured, the single sound somehow managing to convey that he understood and shared her disappointment.
Using his leverage, he drew her closer, up onto her tiptoes. Her heart lurched and her breath stalled inside her chest. She could have moved, could have pulled away from him. But she didn’t.
With the pressure of his thumb underneath her chin, he tipped her head back and ran the pad down her exposed throat. An unwanted shiver rocked her body.
His steady gaze caught her, held her prisoner just as surely as his hands in her hair. This morning there wasn’t the same blaze of unbelievable heat that had consumed them both the night before. But there was something else. Still a burn, but more gentle.
Something had changed last night. A tiny voice inside her head whispered,
You’re in too deep now, girl
.
Slowly, Knox lowered his lips to hers, brushing them softly together. Her brain screamed at her to hold still, not react. But her body didn’t cooperate. Her lips parted, inviting him in.
The kiss was warm and silky. Comforting and effortless. It was like melted chocolate and sunshine.
Avery heard herself sigh, the breathy kind of sound she’d often condemned other women for making, calling them stupid for letting their baser urges rule them. But that was because she hadn’t understood. Had never experienced the overwhelming sensation of wanting someone so much it trumped everything.
Her body relaxed, going languid. Her hands found his shoulders and slipped down across the hair-roughened skin of his chest.
After several moments, Knox pulled back. His lips were moist. Avery supposed hers were as well. She wanted more, but there was something in the way he was looking at her that kept her still.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
Avery struggled to find her voice. “Uh, hi,” she finally said.
“You better be careful or you’re going to get burned.” Knox let a single fingertip trail across from collarbone to collarbone where her shirt left the top of her chest exposed.
She hated her skin, pale and freckled, but it came with her bright red hair. Although, she’d never been particularly enamored of that either.
Being a redhead meant she usually stuck out in a crowd. Especially when she was younger and they’d lived in places where red hair was even more unusual. Maybe all the times when she was little and heard women chattering in a language she didn’t understand, their eyes cutting to her so it was obvious they were talking about her, had bred her dislike for being the center of attention.
Or maybe that inclination was just naturally her.
Those experiences had definitely fueled her drive, as she’d gotten older, to learn the language whenever they’d moved on to someplace new.
Either way, she’d never particularly liked the notice her hair drew. And it had only gotten worse as she’d grown older, started to develop.
The icing on the cake had been the night her entire world had fallen apart.
Melody had been running with a bad crowd while their father had been on a dig just off the coast of Spain, near Morocco. She’d gotten tired of the constant arguments between her parents and her sister. Her sister willfully broke every rule she could, seemingly for spite.
She hadn’t liked the friends Melody brought by the house. They were rough, rude and delighted in making her feel uncomfortable. On several occasions the guys had made inappropriate comments to her when she’d inadvertently walked into the kitchen or the den and found them sprawled there.
Even she had become angry with Melody for her lack of respect. The house was Avery’s sanctuary and it hurt that she couldn’t walk around her own home without the fear of being heckled and propositioned.
But the straw that broke the camel’s back had been the night she’d woken up in her own room with one of Melody’s friends standing over her bed. At first, she’d thought the guy was looking for Melody. Until he’d said her name, his voice slurred.
“So gorgeous,
canela
,” he’d said in his thickly accented voice as his fingers sifted through her hair. Cinnamon. She hated the way he’d said the word, because it wasn’t an endearment but somehow a threat. His other hand rested heavily on her hip, pinning her against the bed when she tried to move away.
She’d gone still, hoping all he wanted was to scare her. But that wasn’t what he wanted. The bed had dipped beneath his weight. His hand had gripped her hair, pulling hard until tears stung her eyes.
“I wonder if that color is natural. Your sister says yes. I must know for myself.” His other hand slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts, yanking.
It had taken her several moments to react, but when the shock wore off a sharp scream burst out. His hand slapped down over her mouth, but it had been enough.
Her father had come running. Beat the shit out of guy before tossing him into the street. That night, the arguments had been bad. Melody, angry and belligerent, claiming she’d overreacted. Fed up, her parents had kicked Melody out, offering her a plane ticket home that she hadn’t used.
Four weeks later they’d moved home to Texas, back into the house her parents owned but had barely used over the years. Avery had begun applying for early entrance to colleges. Everyone pretended that their family hadn’t been broken by what happened, but the facade had shattered six months later when they’d gotten the call saying that Melody had been arrested for drug possession.
“I’ll be careful not to burn,” Avery finally said, choking off the unwanted memories.
Knox tipped his head, his gaze roaming across her expression. Once again, Avery sensed that he saw much more than she wanted him to. But instead of asking what had caused the strange catch in her voice, he took a step back, waving toward the fire.
Together they sat down to the meal he’d prepared. It wasn’t the first time she’d eaten a questionable protein source around a fire. On some of her father’s more exotic digs, they’d been invited to partake in local delicacies.
The meat was tough but decent, the smokiness from being roasted over the fire providing enough flavor for her to choke it down. Knox watched her, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as she picked at the bones.
“Nautical archaeology. That’s a pretty narrow field. How’d you end up there?” he asked, filling the silence. Things between them had become considerably more comfortable since last night. She supposed they’d released some sexual tension...well, at least she had.
It was Avery’s turn to study him. “Why do you want to know?”
“Call it curiosity.”
Was it possible he was feeling as off-kilter as she was, searching for solid ground, or was he trying to expose her true purpose?
Either way, she didn’t see the harm in answering. Maybe they could end up friends, at least until she betrayed him and royally screwed his business.
“I started out in anthropology. I’ve always been fascinated with people, cultures. My father is an archaeologist and most of my playgrounds contained ancient artifacts and dig quadrants instead of monkey bars and swing sets.”
“Well, that explains a lot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”