Читать книгу Deadly Liaisons - Elle James - Страница 12

Chapter 3

She fought like a little hellcat, kicking, twisting and scratching, landing a hard kick against his shin.

Nova grit his teeth and held on. “Shh. It’s me, Casanova.”

Immediately, her struggles ceased and her stiff body relaxed, melting against him.

Molly’s fingers curled into his shirt. Her lips pressed into the fabric, making him wish he wasn’t wearing a shirt so that he could feel those lips against his skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “For what? Scaring you half to death?” He leaned her back to arm’s length, her flashlight providing enough light that he could see the expression on her face, one of receding terror, tracks of tears glistening on her cheeks. “What are you doing out here?”

“I thought I heard a voice,” she said, her body beginning to tremble beneath his fingertips.

“I did, too.” He smoothed her hair back off one cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

“You did?” She looked up at him, her gaze hopeful.

“Yes.” He smiled. “I heard your voice calling out.”

Her shoulders slumped. “No, another voice. Someone calling out for help.”

“Maybe we should go back in and do a head count of your guests?”

“Yes, please. Just to be sure.”

“Come on.”

She shone the light around them, unable to see past two feet in front of the beam.

“This way,” he said confidently.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and pointed at the ground. “Gravel and grass. We’re on the edge of the parking area. I was out at Creed’s rental car, trying to charge my cell phone, for what it’s worth.”

“You won’t get a signal.”

“I gathered that.” He hooked an arm around her waist and guided her slowly across the boundary of grass and gravel to the walkway that led to the front porch.

“Would it be undignified to hug the porch rails?” she said with a nervous laugh.

“If it makes you feel better, go ahead.”

She hesitated, then slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him. “No, really. I’m okay now.” But she didn’t move out of his embrace.

He was glad. Nova liked how she felt against him, her body warm, curvy and soft in all the best places.

After a quick accounting of persons in each room, starting with Nicole, Molly was finally satisfied that all her guests were tucked in bed or in the shared bathroom, not out wandering around in the fog.

“See? All here and accounted for.” Casanova stood at the top of the landing, reluctant to leave her.

She twisted her fingers together, not making a move to go to her own bed. “I guess I was hearing things. Who else would be out there at this time in the fog?”

“Perhaps it’s your ghost.”

She smiled, the light absent from her eyes. “I never really saw any ghosts.”

“You said you had an open mind. Perhaps it was picking up on someone from the past.”

“I hope so. If someone really did fall over that cliff...” Her body trembled. “I’d hate to think I did nothing to help.”

“Well, try to get some sleep.” He bent and brushed his lips across hers, thinking only a little taste and he’d head to his own bed on the fold-out couch below. As soon as his mouth touched hers, he realized how wrong he was. As it was before, one little kiss wasn’t enough.

Her arms circled behind his neck, drawing him closer, her tongue darting between his teeth to claim his. He didn’t fight it, falling into her without thought of tomorrow or all the demons that had plagued him since his time in the jungle. For the first time in years, he didn’t think about Sophia, his focus on Molly and her delectable tongue, her shapely body pressed against his.

He ran a hand down her side, cupping the full, rounded flesh of her bottom, melding her pelvis to his, rubbing her against the stiff erection straining to be free of his jeans.

When at last he raised his head to stare down at the beautiful blonde, her green eyes shone up at him in the dimly lit hallway, her lips swollen from his kiss. He didn’t want it to end there. Nothing short of taking her could be enough and he doubted that would take the edge off this particular hunger.

Part of him prayed she’d turn and walk away. The other half silently screamed hallelujah when she took his hand and led him into her bedroom.

Another door slammed in the hallway as Molly closed her door behind her.

“I just want you to know I don’t usually invite strange men into my bedroom.” She leaned against the panel, biting on her lower lip, as if not sure what to do next.

Casanova knew exactly what to do next. “So noted.” He swept the back of his knuckles along the curve of her jaw and down the length of her long, smooth neck, the path continuing to the swell of her breasts beneath the cardigan. With quick, efficient movements, he released the buttons one at a time and pushed the heather-gray sweater over her shoulders.

Following his lead, she unbuttoned his cotton shirt and, standing on her toes, shoved it over his shoulders, tugging the tails free of his jeans.

His groin tightened, and his member throbbed against the long, hard zipper pushing against it. He wanted to rip his clothes off and then hers, and slam into her, riding her like a wild man until his thirst was slaked and he regained control.

But those deep green eyes looked up at him with heated lust and a great deal of trust. If he wanted this woman—all of her—he’d have to take it slow or else he’d scare her off like a skittish deer in the woods.

Biting back the urge to plunge into her, he tugged the hem of her silky rose-colored blouse out of her pants and lifted it up over her head, tossing it to the side.

She wore a lace demi-bra that half covered each breast, pushing them up into luscious mounds, ripe for tasting.

He bent to kiss one rounded swell, cupping his hand beneath to lift it, squeeze it and pinch the budded nipple beneath the fabric.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, nipping the tip of her breast through the lace.

“Shh. Don’t talk. Just feel.” She reached behind her and unclasped the catch, releasing the ends and letting the straps slide down her arms.

Casanova leaned back far enough to let the garment drop to the floor, then swooped in to take the tasty bud between his lips and suck it into his mouth.

She gasped, drew in a quick lungful of air and held it, her body stiff as he lavished his tongue across the bud, flicking, nipping and teasing it even tighter before he switched attention to the other.

Molly pulled at the rivet on his jeans, releasing the metal button. Slowly, she slipped the zipper down over the hard ridge, careful not to catch his skin in the metal teeth.

Since he preferred going commando, his erection sprang free into her hand, hard, straight and pulsing. When she wrapped her hands around it, he moaned and pushed into her grip.

All thoughts of taking it slow rushed from his head. Nova slid his hands over her rounded bottom, cupped the backs of her thighs, lifted and carried her to the bed in the middle of the room, settling her on the edge.

He hesitated, though it killed him to. “Are you sure?”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Remember? Don’t talk.” Molly lay back, unbuttoned her jeans, and shimmied out of them and the skimpy panties she had on beneath.

Nova frowned, trying to understand her reasoning until the jeans hit the floor. With her naked body lying on the mattress in front of him, reason became the last thing on his mind as he leaned over her, pinning her wrists above her head.

He claimed her lips in a searing kiss she returned with equal intensity that sent fire burning through his veins to culminate in his groin. His member stiffened and he nudged her opening, anxious to enter her, but not too mindless to not think of protection. When he came up for air, he let go of her wrists and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, flipped it open and removed the foil packet he always carried.

Molly took the packet from his hands and laid it to the side on the bed and then sat up, pressing her lips to his chest, her hands gliding down his back to cup his buttocks. She slipped out of the bed and dropped to her knees, her mouth making a slow descent to the throbbing evidence of his raging desire.

His hand threaded through her golden hair, his fingers digging into her scalp as she took him into her mouth. He marveled at this gift he’d discovered in the wilds of the Oregon coast.

Nova sucked air into his starving lungs and held it as she worked magic with her tongue. When he could stand it no longer, he pulled her to her feet and lay her back on the comforter, determined to bring her to the same level of excitement she’d taken him to before he took this madness any further.

She lay back, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Her tongue swiped across her lips.

Nova kissed her, thrusting past her teeth, tasting himself in her mouth. He trailed kisses across her cheek, her jaw and down her neck to the gentle swells of her breasts, capturing first one and then the other. He rolled the nubs between his teeth, nipping softly.

Her back arched off the bed, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth. But he wasn’t stopping there. He continued his exploration of her body down her torso, dipping into her belly button and lower, his fingers leading the way for his mouth to follow.

Molly writhed against the comforter, her hands twisting the fabric. Finally, she reached for his hand, and guided it to the furry mound over her sex, pressing one of his fingers into her damp entrance. So warm, wet and ready.

Holding on to his control by a thread, he parted her folds and touched his tongue to the narrow strip of flesh between.

She moaned, her fingers rising to cup the back of his head, threading through his hair, tugging him closer as her hips bucked off the mattress. “Please,” she cried.

“Shh,” he whispered, blowing a warm stream of air across her damp flesh. “Don’t talk. Just feel.” He licked her again, this time settling into a steady, sensuous rhythm that had her squirming and crying out his name.

When she jerked to a halt, her body tense and stiff, he knew she was there.

He rose to his feet, ripped open the packet, slid it down over his hard shaft and drove into her, hard and fast.

Her slick channel tightened around him, contracting to draw him deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his buttocks, urging him to go faster, pump harder. He complied, driving in again and again, until he burst over the edge, a flash of mind-blowing sensations inundating his body, wave after wave.

When he returned to reality, he was buried inside her, still hard, still standing and thoroughly satiated. He slipped free, scooted her farther up the bed and lay down beside her, gathering her into his arms.

Nova wondered what had just happened. Since Sophia, he hadn’t been that out of control with a woman. And he’d been quick to leave as soon as they’d had sex. With Molly, he felt no compelling desire to leave her. Instead, he wanted to hold her, to feel her body against his through the night, driving away the cold, erasing the memories, renewing his faith in humanity. He could get used to having her around.

He had to remind himself that wasn’t an option.

* * *

The arm around her middle tightened, pulling Molly back against Casanova’s hard body. She reveled in the warmth, the sense of security and the feeling of completeness, forgetting for a few crazy moments that this would not last. By tomorrow, he’d be gone, and she’d be running the B&B by herself, alone as usual.

Why she’d invited him into her room, she didn’t know. Perhaps seeing her brother and Kayla and Emma and Creed interact so happily with the ones they loved had sparked something inside that she’d been careful to keep buried. For the past three years, she’d told herself she didn’t need a man in her life. Relationships were too difficult. They hurt too much.

But there was the physical side of having someone there that she couldn’t forget. The warmth of a body lying next to her, the feel of a man driving deep inside, filling all those empty places she’d thought long forgotten.

What had come over her to invite a stranger into her bed? Her hand curled around his brawny arm. Was it the way his gaze had followed her around the room? She’d never understood the phrase undressing her with his eyes until she’d met Casanova. Every move she’d made in front of him, fully clothed, she’d felt exposed, naked and desirable. Her body had reacted before her brain engaged.

When he’d found her in the fog, she’d reacted like any female grateful to him for saving her and bringing her back to the house would. But gratitude had nothing to do with her opening her bedroom door and her body to him. She could only attribute that to the rampaging desire flaming through her, too long suppressed. She’d invited him in, telling herself it was just a night, he was just a man, not a relationship, and he’d be out of her life before the sun rose on the next day. No strings, no regrets.

But the warm reality of his body spooning hers was so much more than what she’d imagined. The warmth faded as she remembered what came next. Morning, daylight and his departure from the McGregor B&B.

Her heart lodged in her throat and her eyes ached, a precursor to the tears she refused to shed over a stranger. She pushed his arm away and sat up. “I need to check the kitchen. I think I forgot to turn off the burner on the stove.”

He sat up, too, his lips curling. “I’ll check it. I’m headed down, anyway.”

“No, take your time. I always do a last pass before I call it a night.” She jumped out of the bed, slipped a silky pink robe over her nakedness and ran for the door.

His chuckle followed her to the end of the dark landing, where she stopped to gather her wits and a breath before her descent to the main floor. As she took the first step, a ghostly white figure flashed in her peripheral vision.

Molly teetered on the top step, remembering too late that the lightbulb over the landing needed replacing. Then a firm pressure on her back sent her tumbling down the steps. She didn’t have time to scream. Her arms and legs flailed as she scrambled for a grip on something, anything, to slow her fall. Pain shot through her where her body and limbs banged against risers and rails on her wild trip plummeting downward. When she came to an abrupt stop at the bottom, she lay still, breathing hard and mentally accounting for all her body parts, each of them reminding her where they were with a fresh wash of pain.

As she lay there, her vision fading in and out, she wondered what the hell had happened. Her mind whirled around the voice in the fog and the ethereal aberration on the landing. But what stood out most was the pressure on her back as she’d taken that first step.

As a wall of fog surrounded her, one thing was very clear. Whether it had been man or ghost, she’d been pushed down those steps.