Riptide (21 page)

He sucked hard and her knees went weak. Her head thumped on the wall as she tried to regain her equilibrium, but she was under sensory assault.

“A woman can ki—” His mouth moved to the other breast, Bria combed her fingers through his hair, holding. Wanting. Craving. “Stop it,” she insisted, but it was only a ragged sound. She struggled to shape the words. “A woman can kiss … a man and not have to … fall all over herself to go to b-bed with him!”

His free hand slid around her waist to mimic what she’d been doing moments before. His strong fingers clamped on her ass cheek as he trailed a fiery, nibbling, licking, path down the center of her sensitized body. “You weren’t the one to say no, darling.”

She felt the heat of his breath against her damp mound, and saw sparklers and fireworks as he twisted his fingers inside her. He inhaled deeply, and she knew he was smelling her. Her arousal, her need.

She swallowed hard. “I said no,
tesoro
,” she told him, barely able to stand, let alone talk. “I said no very firmly.”

“You said no, but your body said yes.”

“Ha! Well, now I’m clearly saying yes. And my body is saying hell, yes, too. How perfect is that for everybody? What are you going to do about it?”

His laugh puffed his hot breath against her belly. Then she felt the warm wet glide of his tongue licking a straight line from her navel down into the damp curls at the juncture of her thighs.

“I think,” he said, his voice muffled but still strong as he sank to his knees in front of her, “that you—God, you taste like hot peach pie.” His voice was low and more vibration than sound. His stiff tongue found her swollen clit and sucked until Bria nearly leaped out of her skin.

“Please—” There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. She closed her hands over her breasts and squeezed as he slowly withdrew his fingers. Her body protested, clamping down hard. She moaned low in her throat. Her hands tightened over her own breasts, pinching her nipples between her fingers as a hard shuddering ripple started at the epicenter and started traveling though her body with tsunami speed. Need clawed at her.

“Please what?” she heard, his breath warm against her damp curls.

“Nick, just …
Please
.” She reached down to tug at his hair. But he was happy where he was, and wasn’t about to be motivated to move anywhere else.

And if she had to wrap it up, here and now, she knew that was the most infuriating thing about Nick Cutter. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. After
slow
deliberation.

He was all about the journey, and damn it, Bria wanted to
be
there already.

He stroked his tongue inside her, made a humming sound that electrified every nerve in her body. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled. Finally, his head lifted, leaving the warm hot center of her body cold. “Too much,” she told him brokenly, barely able to breathe with the intensity. “Later…”

He said nothing.

He slid his wet mouth up her sweat-slicked, steam-drenched wet body, his hands and teeth driving her mad. “Nick—” Her lips sought his, and she tasted herself on his mouth, which spiked her temperature even higher.

He lifted his head, close enough that she still felt his hot breath on her damp skin. “I think you’re used to poor fools falling at your royal feet.” His voice was thick, and for a moment Bria had no clue what he was talking about, or why he was talking at all, for that matter.

“I think no man in your life has ever had the audacity to look behind those innocent big brown eyes, and know just how devious that quick mind of yours really is.” His voice was far from steady now, and a long, long way from cold.

Bria slid her hands up his slick wet chest, enjoying the tickle of his crisp hair, and the tensile strength of his satin smooth skin pulled taut over muscles tight with tension. She put her mouth against his jugular, where she could feel the frantic throb of his pulse.

“Every move you make is calculated to drive a man insane.” His voice was low and harsh, his skin vibrating beneath her lips with every breath. Every word. “Your eyes say fuck me, and your mouth says stay the hell away.”

“I’m leaning toward
do me
right now,” Bria managed on a broken laugh, a hairsbreadth from imploding. “You still seem to be having an issue with it. How about if we analyze this after we’re done?”

“Who’s to say when we’re done?” He closed both hands on her hips, pulling her against his erection. The pressure there straddled a line between pain and pleasure. His fingers skimmed down her thigh and he scooped his palm under her leg, pulling her against him. But he still wasn’t inside her where she wanted, needed, him. “You’re playing with fire, Gabriella.”

“Yeah?” she arched against him. “Show me your fire, Mr. Spock. Double dare you.” Bria’s smile was replaced by a gasp as he jerked his hips and plunged inside her to the hilt.

She shattered instantly, her cry echoing through the steam.

Nick went still.

It took her a wild, frenetically charged moment to regain her sense of self. And realize he still hadn’t moved. “I need a minute,” she managed thickly.

Really she did. It was only the delicious weight of him pinning her against the cool wall that kept her upright, because she was utterly boneless. Every climax had rolled through her like an express train on a never-ending loop. One after the next until she was limp.

“Time’s up,” he said immediately, making her laugh weakly.

“That wasn’t even a second.”

He rubbed his chin on the top of her head. It was both soothing and maddening, especially since she could feel his body trembling with leashed tension. He dipped his head to nuzzle her ear. “Are you still pissed off?”

She shook her head slightly, and that alone was a tremendous effort.

“I’ve never met a woman who sheds anger as fast as you do.”

He didn’t sound annoyed. Bria smiled against his shoulder. “It’s a gift.” She licked salt off his skin, then took a little bite because as exquisite as his lovemaking was, she didn’t like being kept waiting that long.

He jerked, causing his body to leap inside hers, and rested his forehead against her own. “You know that thing about never being taken to a second location?”

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Her voice sounded languid and husky. All the temper had been pleasured out of her. She rested her cheek on his chest as her internal muscles contracted around his penis.

The sound he made wasn’t a word.

“It’ll be easy,” she murmured, brushing her lips across his collarbone. The hard length of his penis moved eagerly within her, yet he made no move to change positions. Merely wrapped his free arm around her and stroked her hair.

“Nothing’s easy with you,” he told her.

“Well, I can’t move,” Bria said lazily. Well, she couldn’t move outside. Inside, her body was still pulsing and throbbing and contracting around the part of him he had buried deep inside her.

“La petite mort,”
he murmured against her temple.

She smiled, turning her face against his chest and inhaling the salty male fragrance of his hot skin. “The little death? Sounds about right.”

When his chest moved, an amused sound easing out with a breath, Bria’s eyes widened. Had Nick Cutter just
laughed
? “It’s a horizontal surface.”

She didn’t have spare energy to frown her confusion. “What is?”

“That second location.”

She liked the sound of that. “Soft?”

His fingers slid around her chin, trapping her face still for his lips to glide once more over hers. Firm, teasing. Tempting. “Best I can do is a wood bench,” he said.

“We could go downstairs…”

He kissed her again, this time harder and more urgently, reminding her why leaving the steam room wasn’t in the cards. He was still inside her when he carried her across the room, still inside her as he followed her down onto a horizontal surface, still inside her when she convulsed, and screamed his name.

She didn’t notice how hard the
bench
was.

Chapter 12

Bria came out on deck, Jonah at her side. She wore white shorts that exposed the long tanned length of her spectacular legs, and a purple top that bared her shoulders. Every movement she made was naturally seductive, and the guys all turned to admire the view.

Doesn’t bother me, Nick thought, glad his eyes were covered with sunglasses. Let them look their fill. He was the man who’d kissed, licked, and tasted every inch of that view for hours. He’d made love to her in the steam room several times, in the gym with all the lights on, and again when they’d managed to drag themselves downstairs. They’d fallen into bed, sworn they didn’t have an ounce of strength left, and then she’d touched him or he’d touched her …

His entire body clenched in anticipation of doing it again.

Miles and Mikhail had just pulled up onto the dive platform, and Bria went over to greet them. Olav, suiting up to go in with Burke, offered to show her what was in the bins. He watched her face light with interest.

Miles scaled the ladder to take her over to the tubs and gave Nick an absent wave, all his focus on the princess.

She peered into the plastic bins filled with seawater and loaded with artifacts to send back to Cutter Cay. Murmuring to Miles, asking questions, totally attentive to the man’s answers. It was a knack Nick supposed came from her PR experience. His team ate up her attention.

Looking up, she shaded her eyes. “Did you find anything interesting today?” she called out. Miles and Mikhail hauled their baskets up onto the dive platform.

“Some pretty good stuff,” Olav yelled back, giving a big friendly smile. Which she returned, bright and warm and so filled with delight that Nick stared for a moment. When Bria smiled, people automatically smiled back. It was like a chain reaction.

“We’ll show you. Give us a minute here.”

Nick took a soda out of the cooler and exchanged a serious look with his friend. He cocked an inquiring brow.

Jonah shook his head. Nothing untoward had happened between him fetching her from Nick’s cabin, and the trip down to the main aft deck, where the dive platform was located.

In fact, Nick thought, grabbing a chair in the shade and stretching out his legs, nothing untoward had happened in the last twenty-four. They were still no closer to finding out who the killer or killers were.

Other than a missing body, two killers on the loose, a sexy princess screwing with his equilibrium, yeah, Nick thought—everything had pretty much returned to the natural rhythm of the salvage. Dive in teams, catalog and photograph what they brought to the surface, and pack everything away to preserve the coins and artifacts until they got home to Cutter Cay.

They’d already recovered a king’s ransom in gold and silver bars and coins, some valuable pewter flatware, and some very nice jewelry, mostly gold and emeralds. Olav and Nick had found a conglomerate-encrusted sword a few days ago, covered with precious stones. Valuable and more important to Nick were the ancient artifacts they salvaged. Like the medical kit. The historical value, the understanding of the past, was more valuable to Nick than money. Because anyone who didn’t understand the past was doomed to repeat it.

His father had issues with impulse control. He’d wanted. He’d partaken. Daniel Cutter hadn’t learned from history how that affected those around him. He’d made the same mistakes over and over again because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d ruined his marriage and fucked up the happy life his three sons had deserved and had a right to expect.

Nick watched Bria throw back her head and laugh at one of Burke’s stupid jokes.
Thank God he had a firmer grip on his impulses.

Jonah looked out over the water. “
Sea Witch
gone?”

“Looks like,” Nick told him absently, watching Bria’s easy rapport with his dive team. “As far as I can tell, she didn’t get away with anything too valuable this time.”

“Woman’s a menace,” Jonah muttered, referring, Nick presumed, to their nemesis the
Sea Witch,
not Bria. “What are you going to do about tomorrow’s drop?” he asked, following Nick’s gaze as he watched Bria describing something to the guys, her hands flashing as she talked.

She’d been strung tight the night before. Nick leaned back in his chair, cupping the back of his head in both hands as he stretched out his legs. Her easy laughter made his gut clench. But then her temper seemed to have the same effect on him.

It had been quick to ignite, yet just as quick to disappear.

This morning when he’d left her to dive, she’d been her normal cheerful self. And eager and enthusiastic to make love again when they’d woken to find themselves wrapped around one another like they were on a sinking raft.

Bria accepted a tube of sunblock, and ordered Miles to turn around so she could smear his back with the white lotion. Idiot was beet-red, would peel, would burn again, and the cycle would continue. He imagined her hands, slippery with lotion on his back. His front …

“Yo? Nick? Tomorrow flying to Las Palmas for a drop-off?” Laughter laced Jonah’s words. “I understand the princess is poetry in motion, and all things delectable, but would y—”

“That sword is secure,” Nick cut him off, then sent his friend a sharp look. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s taken for the moment.”

“Pissing in corners are we?” Jonah raised a brow. “Alrighty, then. Warning unnecessary, but heeded loud and clear.” He took two chilled bottles of water out of the cooler and tossed one to Nick, who caught it without looking.

Popping the cap, Jonah drank deeply, his eyes on Bria laughing and joking and looking hot enough to tempt the Pope. “Not that you want to hear my thoughts on the matter, but do you think that was wise? She could’ve been sent to distract you by the Moroccans, right?”

“If that’s the case, then their fiendish plot can be considered a success,” he answered, sounding as unconcerned as he felt. Mikhail checked out Bria’s cleavage as she bent over to look at whatever Levine was showing her. Nick felt an unfamiliar, completely irrational surge of … What the hell?