Читать книгу Friction - Samantha Hunter - Страница 8

LOGAN LAY on the sand, letting the heat soak into his skin as he forced himself to be oblivious to everything and anything as he sank into an afternoon nap. Focusing on the repetitive wash of waves rolling onto the shore, his muscles seemed to loosen, the sand cradling his body like a hug.

Naps were a luxury he almost never allowed himself, but he had to appear to be a committed vacationer. Just a guy trying to decompress from a very stressful time at work.

A shuffling in the sand interrupted his meditation and he opened his eyes to see a deliciously curved female bottom clad in the briefest of shorts, the cuffs of which graced the undersides of shapely thighs. Those were some legs. He could just make out the edge of a white bandage covering one thigh and frowned—she’d hurt herself.

It didn’t stop him from admiring the feminine musculature as she braced herself in the deep sand, her bare feet planted firmly as she bent over the task of opening the beach chair that she’d apparently rented from the vendor on the sidewalk. The chair was not cooperating.

Logan helped himself to a long, leisurely view of her legs as she held the stance, smiling when she muttered something at the chair while struggling with it. He was about to offer assistance when she finally popped the contraption open, the sudden jolt of energy propelling her backward toward him.

He braced himself for impact, but she regained her balance at the last moment, though the halting action kicked sand up into his face, fortunately missing his eyes. He sputtered, wiping the grit from where it stuck to his damp skin. The beauty returned to her spot about ten feet away without so much as a second glance, sinking down into the chair, unaware she’d plastered him with sand.

He watched her stretch out and start to read, and figured the show was over. Moments after he lay back down and started to reenter that fuzzy stage of napping he’d worked hard to attain, an odd mumbling sound disturbed his concentration.

It was coming from the woman in the chair. He propped himself up on one elbow. Was she talking on a cell phone? Sitting up, curious just because, he got just close enough to hear….

“…and he laid her back, gently, as if she was the most treasured thing he’d ever had in his possession, and stared into her eyes as his long, thick hardness throbbed inside her.

“‘I want all of you, Rose, and I want you to take all of me….’”

Whoa! What the heck? Then Logan realized she was reading aloud to herself, a racy novel, apparently. She wasn’t speaking loudly, but in a soft, throaty mumble that certainly made him want to hear more. He leaned in and listened a little more closely.

“‘Please, Russell…I love you. I need you. I need…more!’”

Russell? Russell and Rose? Logan quirked a grin. This was pretty good.

“She tightened around him, waves of pleasure crashing through her though she tried to hold back, but Russell wouldn’t let her. He thrust himself into her, pushing red-hot pleasure through her like a sword that pierced her completely and took her breath away—”

“Okay, now that just doesn’t sound like fun.”

He didn’t realize the comment had actually come out of his mouth until the sexy mumbling ceased. The woman swung her incredible legs over the side of the chair, peering at him over the same stylish sunglasses she’d been wearing earlier that day when he’d met her by the door of the inn. He hadn’t recognized her from the rear view, nice as it had been.

“Pardon me?” The sexy whisper she’d been reading in shifted to a cool interrogative, and he cleared his throat. There was something about when a woman peered over the top of her glasses that was so totally sexy and completely intimidating. Especially when paired with the high cheekbones and those amazingly shaped lips. She caught his gaze and held it. Not that he was intimidated, even though her tone remained cool and challenging.

“You have an opinion you’d like to share?”

He smiled in what he hoped was a friendly and charming manner. “I thought the whole sword piercing thing didn’t sound very…romantic. Or pleasurable. I wouldn’t want a woman to feel like that when I was, uh. You know.”

A delicate eyebrow raised, and her head cocked sideways as she blinked at him.

“When you were…what?” Her tone was innocent, but suddenly he felt like a mouse being batted around the kitchen floor by a cat. He leaned in a little more closely, softening his own tone, meeting the challenge.

“When my thick, throbbing hardness is buried inside of her.”

He’d give her credit; she didn’t even blink and didn’t back down. She looked back down at her book, studying it for a moment, then looked back at him.

“Actually, it was his long, thick hardness throbbing inside of her.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to speak up a little more next time, so I get it right.”

“Maybe you should be minding your own business.”

“Hey, you were reading out loud—Sarah, was it?”

“Still is.”

“Well, I was sleeping, but you kicked sand in my face when you stumbled back from that chair, and you’ve interrupted my nap—twice. I couldn’t help but listen in, you were reading aloud for everyone to hear, and since I couldn’t sleep…” His words were accusatory, but his tone wasn’t, and her smile twitched then widened as she shook her head, giving in.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you could hear me. When I pulled up you looked dead to the world. I would have sat farther away, but I really wanted to find a spot that was out of the way of the action.” She looked out at the busy beach, her beautiful blue eyes drifting over the children playing and a group of teens playing volleyball.

“No problem. What are you reading?”

“A book I found in the room.”

“You like romances?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. I like romantic suspense more than this kind of thing. This is pretty boring, really.”

“Even with all the sword-piercing pleasure and such?”

She smiled again, looking at him fleetingly then turning her gaze toward the water of the Bay. He sensed that she wasn’t really seeing him or any of the beautiful scenery around her. She’d retreated, and he could feel the distance between them in her next words.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you.” She started to swing her legs back over the chair, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet.

“Why do you read out loud like that?”

She looked back, obviously wishing she’d been able to succeed with her abrupt dismissal, but then stopped and shrugged.

“I spend a lot of time in front of a computer. Sometimes the surroundings are noisy, so I read out loud while I work, it makes it easier to concentrate. I guess it just got to be a habit. I never really noticed.”

“That makes sense.”

She tipped her sunglasses back up on her face, fully covering her eyes. “Sorry again for bothering you.”

“No problem.”

When he lay back on his towel, all he could hear was the slosh of the waves and the voices of the volleyball players. He almost asked her to start reading again.

SARAH HELD her book in front of her face, but she couldn’t concentrate on Rose and Russell’s antics anymore, not that she had been all that into it in the first place. The sex being described on the page had heated up considerably when the man behind her had decided to share his opinion on what a woman felt when a man was inside her.

It was something Sarah tried not to think about too often. She knew a lot about sex, more than she wanted to. She was exposed to the seedier side of it as part of her job, and suffice it to say it was nothing like what Rose and Russell were experiencing.

She snorted softly to herself. Nothing about sex was like what Rose and Russell were experiencing. Sex could be fun and relaxing at best, and as for the worst, well, she wouldn’t go there. She saw too much of it in her work. Her job allowed her to think she’d made a difference in the world, but along the way, she knew something inside her had been irrevocably lost.

That sense of loss, combined with scars from her past, had left her sleeping alone for several years now. She’d gotten used to it and even preferred it; she knew how to take the edge off when she really needed to. Men were an unnecessary complication, and sometimes a dangerous one.

So why, when the gorgeous man sleeping on the sand behind her had looked at her in just that particular, teasing way, and had offered her a smile that made her toes dig down in the sand, had she not shut him down as hard as she usually did? Why had she talked with him—even flirted a little—and felt a…tug? She wanted no part of tugs.

Tugs led to pulls, and pulls led to grasping, which inevitably led to sliding, pushing, rubbing and thrusting—ahhhh!

She threw the book down on the sand, disgusted and appalled that just thinking about it had her nipples poking through her tank top and her thighs flexing slightly in response to her unwanted desire.

This was totally out of character. She wanted to kill Ian for sending her on this vacation.

“It sucks that bad, huh?”

And sucking. Yes, tugs could lead to sucking, too. And licking…. Oh, damn, just stop already!

Sarah drew a deep breath. Logan had spoken to her again, but she was determined to just ignore him this time.

“I thought you were napping.”

So much for ignoring him.

Vacation was obviously playing havoc with her normal sense of independence and self-control.

“I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was too worried about what was happening with Rose and Russell.”

She wanted to laugh and had to choke it down.

“The usual. Piercing and poking and such.”

“Sounds painful.”

“Some people are into that.”

“Are you?” The question was baldly stated and openly curious. He was flirting with her. Well, she would put an end to it.

“No.”

She rose, struggling with the stupid beach chair once again. The stupid joints wouldn’t bend, corroded by salt or age or something, and she grimaced, putting as much muscle into it as possible. The chair gave way, the metal bending under the force of her efforts, the joints popping altogether.

“Ouch. You sure wrestled that into submission.”

Didn’t this guy ever quit? Still, something about his light, teasing tone and comment broke through her annoyance, and she shook her head, chuckling lightly.

“It really wasn’t a fair fight.”

“Understandable. The chair is clearly an unworthy opponent.”

Was he suggesting that he would be worthy? She stood, picking up the broken chair, looking down at Logan and feeling that stupid, aggravating tug yet again.

Okay, so he was eye candy. Lean and tall, he lay over the sand with the kind of reckless sexuality that probably made women turn to jelly with just a glance, though he didn’t seem to be posing. He wasn’t leering or posturing, he was just…lying there.

His lean legs stretched out before him, feet half-buried in the sand. The light scattering of dark hair over his legs continued upward, gathering into a light seam over his flat stomach that thickened a bit on his chest. He had strong shoulders and tight, well-shaped arms. Nice chin, good cheekbones. Firm lips. He was what she’d always thought of as “whiplike”—thin and sinewy, stronger than someone might assume at first glance. Probably fast.

There was a straight, white scar on his shoulder, about two inches long, and she almost asked him where it came from when she realized she’d been staring.

Damn. When caught, pretend not to notice, and then run as fast as you can.

He was looking up at her silently, waiting for her to finish her obvious inspection. He wasn’t the outdoorsy type, she guessed. His skin was not quite as light as hers, but it was clear he wasn’t used to being out in the sun.

“You’re going to burn if you stay out here much longer.”

With that clipped statement, she turned and walked toward the sidewalk.

She hadn’t made it halfway across the beach when she realized he’d caught up and was walking beside her. He stood just a little taller than she did, which meant he was at least six foot, maybe a little more, since she came in at five-ten in bare feet. When his arm brushed up against hers, she subtly stepped to the side as she kept walking, not wanting the contact.

“I’ll vouch for you that the chair broke when you sat in it and let the vendor know he should be lucky if you don’t sue him.”

“It didn’t break when I sat in it.”

“Just trying to save you an argument.”

She slid him a sidelong glance. “He won’t argue with me.”

A moment of silence as he digested that.

“Where are you from?”

“Brooklyn.” Regardless of where she lived now, or where she was born, she would always be from Brooklyn.

“Really? Your accent is certainly that of a New Yorker, but I wouldn’t have guessed Brooklyn.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

“Okay. Right. So what do you do in Brooklyn?”

He was not going to be easy to discourage. She looked at him through her shades, knowing he couldn’t see her eyes. She wasn’t really annoyed with him, she was irritated with her entire situation at the moment. She let that fuel her tone as she shut him down, once and for all.

“Listen, slick, thanks for the conversation but I’m not interested, okay? Have a nice nap.”

Turning to walk away, she didn’t look back as she left him standing quietly behind her.

LOGAN STOOD on the sand and felt put in his place, good and proper. Granted, he hadn’t dated in a while, and his social skills were probably a little rusty, but…ouch. And given the classic male sense of the hunt, wanting to go after things that presented a challenge, he was even more interested now.

He watched her hand the chair to the sidewalk vendor, who appeared to be apologizing profusely, his eyes level with her breasts the whole time he spoke. Sarah put one hand on a cocked hip and shot the other one to the guy’s chin, nudging his eyes up to meet hers. Whatever she said to him had those shocked eyes widening and he nodded quickly, handing her money back and not letting his gaze dip south again.

Logan smiled widely to no one in particular. It was clear Sarah was a woman who could take care of herself and who didn’t suffer fools lightly.

She’d shut him down, but he hadn’t mistaken her slight flirtation with him earlier, when he’d caught her reading. And even as she told him to pack sand, so to speak, her nipples budded endearingly against the soft material of the tank she wore.

Was she as interested as he was? He felt a curl of heat in his belly and knew he wanted to find out. He was male, she was gorgeous and he was on vacation, right?

Normal physical desire, effectively erased by the enormous stress he’d been under, suddenly thrummed through his bloodstream again when he pictured Sarah’s mouth. He could imagine kissing her, tasting her, and let himself imagine her wrapping those lips around him in the most intimate way….

He dropped back to his towel just in time to stretch out on his side lest anyone notice the somewhat untimely erection that sprang to life in response to his thoughts. He was reacting like a horny teenager, but he didn’t really mind, though true, it was inconvenient to be sitting here in public with a boner. It took him by surprise that he wanted her so distinctly. He took a deep breath to calm down and reminded himself why he was really here.

Finding out what had happened to Melanie, his partner for eight years on the Baltimore police force, that was his goal. Mel had had some problems, sure—especially right before she’d disappeared, she’d been on a disciplinary office suspension after having a few too many one night while on duty. She’d been dumped by her fiancé. And shortly after that, she’d had a violent encounter in an alley, as well. Both had left her nerves frayed, and her normally sound sense of judgment weakened by self-doubt. But she was a good cop, and a good partner. Logan believed that then, and he still believed it.

She’d thrown the suspension back in their faces, taking vacation time and heading to Virginia Beach. It was the last anyone had seen of her until some ugly photographs had surfaced during another investigation—explicit, pornographic footage in which Mel was clearly the star.

The department was concerned about its public image, but they also considered her trouble waiting to happen, and no one seemed to surprised she’d gone off the deep end and gotten involved with a bad crowd. A really bad crowd, by the looks of it. Though they’d made the appearance of an investigation, there was no concern about foul play, since she was obviously alive in the photos, and they hadn’t taken too seriously the fact that no one had heard from her in three months. That was six months ago, almost to the day, and though it seemed logical that she wouldn’t want to stay in contact with her friends and family, Logan’s gut told him there was more to it, and he couldn’t let it go.

He couldn’t drop it, though he’d been warned to do so. He knew Melanie, had spent hours every day with her, seen her put her life on the line just like every other cop did. She wouldn’t have just dropped everything to leave town and pick up a gig as a nude model—a polite description of what the pictures illustrated—even if she was going through a really rough patch. Something was very wrong, but he couldn’t seem to convince anyone else of that. He needed evidence.

So he’d made it his personal mission to find her again, or at least to find out what had happened to her. Doing so had taken over his life, interfered with his work, though he’d tried to keep his investigation low-key. He wasn’t in love with Mel, but she’d been a good cop and deserved better than she was getting.

She’d been a close friend; he’d met her family. He’d eaten dinner with her parents. And he knew firsthand what it was like to lose people who were close to you, what it was like to lose family. How could he face her family or tell them he’d given up?

The trail had led him here. But he had to be smart about it, because he’d been ordered to take a mandatory leave when he’d tried to make his case to the captain, to show him the new leads he’d found. When they’d refused to budge and turned their backs he’d lost it completely, blowing up in front of everyone in the captain’s office.

His job was on the line, but he wasn’t going to let it go. He had to make sure it looked like he was having a genuine vacation. He didn’t think anyone was watching him—he wasn’t that important—but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

And how better to do that than to engage in a vacation fling with a beautiful woman? As a cover, it had numerous advantages.

He pictured Sarah in his mind’s eye and smiled. He wouldn’t be working every minute, and maybe she would provide the perfect distraction. She wasn’t going to be easily convinced, but then, he’d always enjoyed the hunt.

SARAH WAS still mumbling to herself as she pushed her key into the lock on the door of her room and froze, finding it open. Someone was inside.

She pushed the door open a little more with her fingertip, silently, slowly, holding her breath until she had it open far enough that she could see inside, though part of the room was blocked from view.

She heard humming, and frowned. Someone sounded pretty happy in there. Definitely a female voice. She was relieved she didn’t have anything with her worth stealing. She’d left all of her computer equipment back in Norfolk. Ian’s orders, damn him. But she still didn’t like the idea of anyone going through her stuff.

A young woman moved into her line of vision. She was pulling some faded flowers out of the vase by the window and replacing them with fresh ones. Not exactly burglar behavior. Sarah pushed the door open and stepped inside, sighting a small service cart she hadn’t spotted from the crack in the door.

The maid.

She sighed heavily, feeling the tension drain away, irritation returning. She hadn’t spent much time in hotels or inns, and hadn’t even considered that there would be a maid in her room. She hadn’t even slept in the room yet, what was there to clean up?

Her suspicions suddenly seemed silly, even to her. It wasn’t like the small, quaint town of Cape Charles was a hotbed of crime—they left the door to the main house open all day, even when no one was around. Sarah couldn’t quite get used to that fact. Her suspicions were misplaced, the result of city living and the extreme boredom she was experiencing at the moment.

The young woman turned, smiling, and that smile faded suddenly. Sarah experienced a pinch of guilt as she realized she was standing there scowling at the girl for no good reason. She could feel her cheeks all bunched up. She tried to relax, though she couldn’t quite manage a smile. The maid wrung her hands, apparently feeling caught in the act even though she obviously hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Sarah felt like a jerk.

“I-I’m sorry, we try to be out of the rooms before—”

“It’s okay. You just startled me.” At the girl’s doubtful glance, she reiterated, “Really. Thanks for freshening the flowers.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say—was she supposed to tip her or something?

“You’re welcome. I’ll just get out of your way now.” The young woman rolled the small cart to the door and stopped. “Thanks for not being angry. I really need this job in the summer to save money for college. But we’re supposed to be out of the rooms when guests are around. It’s just that I forgot to change your flowers this morning, and figured I could stop back and—”

“It’s okay. What’s your name?”

The girl blanched, and Sarah realized she probably thought she was going to be reported.

“Ivy.”

Sarah smiled, trying to prove she wasn’t the wicked witch of the east. “Thanks, Ivy. And don’t worry about getting in here while I’m not around. After a few more days of this, I’ll need the company.”

“What do you mean?”

Sarah sighed, sitting on the bed, waving her hand around aimlessly. “I’m not used to…this. There’s nothing to do, no one around.”

“You don’t like the quiet? It’s why most people come here.”

“Not me. My boss is an ass—uh, idiot who thought I needed a break and he made the reservations for me. He thought I was wound a little too tightly and needed to relax.”

Ivy kept quiet, her fingers poised on the doorknob, and Sarah felt the need to clarify.

“I just like my work is all. I don’t get burnt out. He doesn’t seem to get that.”

“What do you do? Are you a model?”

Sarah blinked, surprised. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but she’d never thought of herself as model material.

“Oh, no way. I’m a cop.”

She almost smiled as Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“A cop? Like, a real one? A detective like on CSI?”

“Not like that, but I work in a special unit with the Norfolk police department.”

“Do you have a gun?”

“Yeah, but not here.”

“That is so cool. You are so pretty. I never would’ve guessed you’re a cop.”

Sarah felt inordinately pleased by the compliment, and shrugged. “Thanks. It’s kind of a new job, actually, so I didn’t really need this vacation. I’m going to go slowly insane if I don’t find some way to pass the time. I’m here for two weeks, and I just can’t sit around on the beach all day. And there’s no shopping here. Or anything.”

Frustration edged itself into her tone again, but this time Ivy seemed to understand.

“Well, it is peaceful here. Most people come here to get away from all that, from the noise and stuff. But there is a lot to do.”

“Like what?”

“Do you like crabbing?”

“I don’t like complainy people—”

Ivy laughed. “No, I mean, like getting crabs, to eat. You can do your own crabbing.”

Sarah just raised her eyebrows. The closest she’d ever come to getting her own live seafood was buying it at street markets in New York.

“Anything else?”

“Well, there are some museums and historic stops. Assateague and Chincoteague aren’t far away. You can see the wild horses and deer there on the beaches, which are incredible. Or, oh, you can take a kayak lesson with Jim McIntyre, he gives a discount to resort guests, and he’s like a magician on the water.”

Ivy’s cheeks had stained a light pink as she spoke about the kayak instructor, and Sarah guessed the young woman had a little more interest in him than a business referral.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Pink turned to full-out red, and Ivy shook her head vehemently.

“No, no.” She sounded very disappointed by this fact. “But I wouldn’t say he’s the best just because of that. He really is very good.”

“And you like him? For more than his ability as a kayak instructor?”

Ivy hesitated, biting her lip, then nodded.

“Have you told him?”

“No. I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a little older.”

“How much older?”

“Twenty-six.”

“And you’re…?”

“Just twenty.”

Sarah took a deep breath. Numerically that wasn’t a huge difference, but she was willing to bet that in terms of experience, it was. By the way she was blushing, Sarah would lay odds that Ivy was as pure as the spotless white sheets she’d just put on the bed.

“Well, it’s probably just as well. Men can be more trouble than they’re worth.”

A small crease appeared on Ivy’s smooth brow in response to her statement. “Really? I bet you have guys asking you out all the time.”

Sarah shook her head. “Not really. I guess they pick up on the vibe that I give out.”

“A cop vibe? They don’t like that?”

“I don’t know if it’s that, but you have to be careful about men, Ivy. What you see is almost never what you get. And what you get is often a whole pack of trouble.”

Ivy seemed to have a hard time digesting that. “I should get going. I have to finish up. It was nice talking to you. Thanks for not being mad, you know, about the room.”

“Anytime. I hope we get to chat again. And don’t worry about this Jim guy. You’re probably too good for him anyway.”

Ivy smiled and closed the door, and Sarah lay back on the bed, feeling a little less irritated after talking with Ivy. The day hadn’t been a total waste after all; at least she’d been able to give some decent advice to the younger woman. Sarah wished someone had made certain things about men clear to her before she’d made some of the biggest mistakes of her life. If she could save girls like Ivy some of that pain, it was worth it.