Deception (16 page)

By the time he pulled into the small side lot of the Sea View Motel, Mia had run out of nervous chatter. She felt like they were back in high school, only Dylan had shown no romantic interest in her then and she’d never felt good enough for him. This was new territory.

She’d put him on a pedestal back then, and now she knew better. Nobody belonged on a pedestal. Nobody wanted to be on a pedestal.

Dylan had stopped talking about halfway through the drive, and now he grabbed the keys from her hand as they charged through the courtyard.

He unlocked the motel door and flung it open. When he turned his gaze on her, the temperature of the night climbed several degrees.

Stepping inside, Mia turned to offer him something to drink, but couldn’t get the words past her own parched throat.

He already knew what he wanted.

He pulled her flush against his body and ran a hand behind her head, his fingers threading through her hair. He planted his mouth against hers, walking her backward until the back of her knees met the bed.

Her lips parted and a breathy sigh passed from her mouth to his. His tongue toyed with hers, gentle and playful at first and then thrusting, seeking, demanding. Clinging to his neck with both arms, she sagged against his body.

He deepened the kiss, inflaming her, melting her core. As her body turned to jelly, his seemed to harden. She knew the arm supporting her back would never let her fall.

Still wordless, their mouths, lips, tongues and now hands doing all the talking, they pressed against each other. Where her body left off and his began, Mia hadn’t a clue.

Dylan tugged at her blouse, a sheer wisp of a thing floating over a lacy camisole. His words raspy and deep in his throat, he said, “I want to see you. I want to see all of you just like I always imagined.”

She raised her arms, and he pulled the top over her head. He flicked down one strap of the camisole and trailed his lips down her shoulder, the stubble of his beard scratching the delicate skin on the inside of her upper arm. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the contrasting sensations of smooth and rough.

The pads of his fingers skimmed up her bare back as he rolled the camisole off her body. He cupped one of her breasts with his hand and brushed his thumb across her nipple, which puckered and ached.

“Oh.”

He smiled into her hair. “Does that feel good?”

“Mmm, but I know something that will feel even better.” She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it up, getting as far as his shoulders.

He reached behind his head and pulled off the shirt, tossing it onto the chair. She pressed her hands against the hard planes of his chest, and the sprinkling of dark hair tickled her palms. Leaning her forehead against his body, she inhaled his scent. The fresh smell of the soap couldn’t mask the essence of Dylan—outdoorsy, salty like a brisk ocean breeze and all male.

She bared her teeth against his warm flesh and took a taste. Then she shifted her mouth and flicked her tongue over his nipple. He sucked in a breath.

Shoving his hands down her pants, he cradled her bottom and fitted her more closely against his pelvis, where she felt his erection straining against the confinement of his jeans.

She grabbed the top button and groaned. “Why are you wearing button-fly jeans at a moment like this?”

“I forgot my tear-away polyester pants at the strip club.”

She laughed and smacked his backside, thrilled that even in the throes of foreplay their relationship hadn’t changed. She didn’t want it to change, except for adding the sex part.

“I could totally see you on stage shaking it in a cop’s uniform.”

“Don’t…give…me…any…ideas.” With each word, he teasingly undid one of the buttons of his jeans until the fly gaped open.

She peeled open his pants, tugging them down over his hips. Then she slipped one hand inside his boxers and stroked him, skimming her fingernails over his smooth, tight flesh.

As she toyed with him, he bent his head and circled her nipple with his tongue once before sucking it into his mouth. A warm gush of pleasure seeped all the way down to her toes.

He pulled away from her and ran a finger along the waistband of her pants. “How come you’re still wearing these?”

“Uh, my hands have been too busy to take them off, and they even have a zipper.”

Dylan made short work of the zipper, and the lightweight capris fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles. He centered his index finger on her stomach and pushed her onto the bed. She fell onto her back with her knees over the edge of the bed.

Dylan kicked off his jeans and boxers and crouched in front of her. He pulled off her silky panties and tossed them over his shoulder.

A shudder rolled through her body when he wedged his hands on the insides of her thighs. Not one smart quip made its way from her brain to her vocal cords. How could she banter? She couldn’t even breathe properly. Her breaths came out in spurts and gasps, and Dylan hadn’t even started working his magic yet.

When his mouth met her heated flesh, she almost jumped out of her skin.

“Steady.” His big hands pinned her hips to the bed, and he began his assault again.

This time she thrashed her head from side to side as his tongue explored her. She wouldn’t be able to last two minutes if he kept this up.

Four, three, two…she exploded. Crying out, she threw her hands over her head as the liquid fire seeped into her bones.

Dylan kissed his way up from her navel, across her belly, made two detours to her breasts and then nuzzled her neck. She dug her fingers into his thick, brown hair, the light from the lamp on the nightstand picking out the gold highlights.

His big body moved over hers, and she marveled once again at the way his rigid lines and planes contrasted with her soft curves, as if made for a natural fit.

She smoothed her hands over his buttocks and a rash of goose bumps raced across his skin. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her.

He breathed into her ear. “Tell me how you like it.”

“I don’t care, Dylan. Take me however you want me. I’ve been yours for years anyway.”

He locked his gaze on to hers and thrust forward. He pulled out slowly and thrust again, this time brushing his chest against her breasts.

She curled her fingers into the solid muscle of his backside, urging him on, begging for more, faster, deeper, harder.

Sweat dampened their bodies, and she licked the salty ridge of his collar bone. He seemed to grow inside her, filling her up until she felt as if he’d always been a part of her. And now that she had him, she’d never want to let him go.

The excitement built in her body. Tension gripped every muscle. A hot coil tightened in her belly. Dylan drove her closer and closer to the edge, his own muscles rigid and tight.

He whispered her name once, and the sweet sound opened the floodgates. The tension broke, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her system. Seconds later, he reached his own climax, and they rode out their shared passion together, feeding off each other, their bodies in sync as their minds had always been.

When the last cries had died on their lips, when their bodies lay limp and their desire was spent, they still held on to each other. Dylan had shifted from her body, but his leg hooked around her in a possessive manner and her hand rested on the inside of his thigh, casually close to a part of his anatomy she’d only dreamed about days before.

Dylan yawned and kissed her temple. “Tell me that wasn’t a dumb move.”

“Dumb?” Her fingers danced up his thigh. “
This
is not dumb.”

“I’d told myself earlier, I wasn’t going to let my libido get in the way of a helluva friendship.”

“Guess your libido has a mind of its own.”

“No kidding.”

Mia plumped the pillow beneath her head so she could look at his face. “Do you have regrets?”

“Not yet, but I’m ready to try again and see if any regrets pop up after the second time, or the third, or…”

He skimmed his hands up her stomach and molded both of her breasts, tweaking and teasing her nipples until she felt her blood stir again.

She shifted onto her side and snuggled her back against his chest, relishing the sensation of his warm, bare skin pressed against her and the way her body fit snugly with his. She wanted to memorize every groove, bump and hollow.

He wound his arm around her waist and she threaded her fingers through his fingers. The tattoo on his arm flexed, almost mocking her, reminding her that despite their intimacy Dylan had a secret.

Was it time to test him, or should she leave it alone? She had to strike while his body remained wrapped around hers. She took a deep breath. “Are you going to tell me more about that ink on your forearm now?”

He ran his tongue along the outer rim of her ear. “Why ruin the moment?”

“It’s the perfect moment.” She placed his hand over her breast. “We’re intimate. Your defenses are down.”

He pinched her nipple as he growled in her ear. “My defenses are never down.”

“They must’ve been at one point.” She scraped her nails along the curve of the five that ended in an arrow at his wrist.

Rolling onto his back, he crossed his arms behind his head, and a chill hit her damp skin. Was he going to refuse to open up to her? Maybe all this oneness she’d felt with him existed only in her head.

He cleared his throat and trailed a finger down her spine. “When I was undercover with the Fifteenth Street Lords, I screwed up. Big-time.”

Mia’s cell phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she wanted to throw it across the room.

Dylan’s finger froze on her back. “Are you going to answer that?”

“Do I look like I’m making a move?”

He sat up and reached across her. “With all the stuff you have going on in your life right now, you’d better at least check the display.”

He did that for her and tapped her shoulder with the phone. “It’s Kayla.”

“That girl pops up at the most inconvenient times.” The chill creeping across her flesh grew more pronounced as Mia scooted up against the headboard, away from the covers and Dylan’s warmth.

“Hey, Kayla, do you want more pizza or what?”

Someone sobbed over the line, and Mia shot up straighter, banging her head on the wood behind her. “Kayla?”

“What’s wrong?” Dylan tucked the covers around her.

“I-is this Mia St. Regis, Kayla’s aunt?”

“Yes. Who’s this?” The languid, sated feeling that had infused her body after making love with Dylan evaporated.

“You need to come quick.”

The blood pounded in Mia’s ears as she waved away Dylan’s insistent questions. “What is it? Where are you?”

“We’re at the beach, and…and I think Kayla’s dead.”

Chapter Twelve

Mia’s face paled, matching the white sheets as she dropped the phone and rocked back and forth. “Not her, too. God, not her, too.”

Dread pounded against Dylan’s temples and he snatched the phone from the bed. “Who is this? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Kayla. We were partying on the beach and she collapsed. I think she might be dead.”

Dylan could hear voices and cries in the background, and a guy’s voice shouting, “She’s breathing! She’s breathing!”

Dylan pulled the covers over Mia’s trembling body. Her teeth were chattering so much, she couldn’t form any words.

“Have you called 911 yet?”

The girl wailed. “No. We’re scared.”

Drugs? Dylan’s lips tightened. “Where are you? I’m going to hang up and call 911.”

She gave the location of the beach below Columbella, near the sea cave. Dylan cut across the rest of her babbling. “You tell the paramedics exactly what happened, exactly what she smoked or ingested. You got that?”

“Yes, but we didn’t…”

Dylan ended the call and clawed through the discarded clothing to find his boxers while he called 911. He gave the dispatcher the kids’ location, and then sat on the bed next to Mia, still wide-eyed, her skin blanched.

He gripped her shoulder and gave her a little shake. “One of the boys said she was breathing. The paramedics are on their way.”

His words broke the spell of her panic and she jolted out of the bed and scrambled across the floor, picking up articles of her clothing and yanking them on.

“Let’s go. I have to be there. I have to be there for Marissa’s daughter.”

“I know you do. The paramedics should be there before us. She’ll be okay.”

Mia clutched his arm, her nails biting into his flesh. “She has to be.”

Dylan drove his truck up the coast as fast as safety, and his position as police chief, would allow. He roared up Coral Cove Drive and skidded to a stop in the turnout for the lookout area, joining an ambulance and a fire truck, steam from their engines mingling with the fog.

Dylan grabbed Mia’s hand before she began clambering over the rocks.

“Be careful. We don’t need two accidents tonight.” Was Kayla’s situation due to an accident? Self-inflicted? The hysterical girl on the phone hadn’t been much help.

The EMTs had a spotlight on the sand where Kayla’s friends huddled. They’d already lifted Kayla to a stretcher and hovered over her with masks and bottles and pumps.

Mia whimpered and began mumbling to herself.

Dylan grabbed her arm to guide her down the rest of the rocks. “They’ll do everything they can to help her.”

The rest of the teens lifted drawn faces, their eyes black pools, when he and Mia hit the sand and began jogging toward them.

Mia ran to the EMTs working on Kayla and assaulted them with questions.

Dylan started with one of the boys, who at least wasn’t crying like all the girls. “What happened to Kayla?”

“We don’t know.” The boy held up his bony hands. “I swear, sir, we weren’t doing drugs or anything out here.”

Dylan inhaled the air around the kids and didn’t smell anything unusual except an abundance of cheap cologne. He studied the boy’s eyes, which looked clear with normally dilated pupils.

“Tell me what happened.”

“A-after Kayla left the pizza place, we just walked up and down Main Street. Then…” He cranked his head around to the others.