Hold Me (5 page)

“Jesus, Jane. Are you sure this is what you want?” He murmured the words into her hair. She smelled like his shampoo.

“I’m always worried,” she whispered, “that if I’m with a guy back home, it’ll be in some stupid magazine the next day.” She smiled, eyes vulnerable. “But I don’t have to worry about that with you, do I?”

She rocked her hips, encountering his incredibly hard dick.

“I want this.” Her eyes begged him to take her. “I want you.”

He’d offered her an out. He’d done the decent thing. Now, to hell with chivalry. He was hot for Jane Caldwell and she was on fire for him. Christ, he hoped his condoms hadn’t expired. He lifted her onto the counter and tugged down her jeans. She helped by shrugging out of them while he finished unbuttoning her blouse.

She had a tight little body, her stomach smooth with muscle, leading down to the band of her see-through briefs. Groomed curls peeked from behind the sheer fabric. She was wet through with her own juice. He could have burst right then as she separated her thighs.

Loving how unashamed she seemed about her body, about what she needed, he allowed himself the same permission. Having been a very bad boy, trying to be a good man was getting more and more difficult when faced with the golden, half-naked goddess on his kitchen counter. She had awakened the beast.

“I think now would be a good time,” she murmured into his ear, “to do that thing you said we almost did before.”

“What’s that?”

She ground herself against his cock. “Fuck each other’s brains out.”

That did it. Grasping her ass, he lifted her, wrapping her around him and hefting her off the counter. As he carried her into his darkened bedroom, she dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades and licked his ear. He laid her on his bed. She slipped off her open blouse, unclasped her bra, then crawled to the edge of the bed where he stood. Her back glistened in the moonlight from the window facing the lake, her face angled toward his. She waited on all fours, like a cat, eyes heavy and feral, her butt curving out of sight beyond the line of her panties.

He flicked open the button on his jeans and lowered the fly. Slowly. Her eyes widened at the sight of his raging erection. He tugged his T-shirt over his head and she caught her breath. She pulled back the band of his boxers, slipping her hand down his groin and around his shaft. He hissed. She brought him out with talented, insistent fingers and he stepped closer. She licked her lips.

Goodbye Harrison, hello Cady. He’d abstained for long enough. “If we do this, Jane, I want you to take all of me. Can you do that?”

She looked even more turned on, and nodded.

He stepped out of his jeans and boxers. Cursing, he clenched his teeth as she took every inch of him into her mouth. He reached the soft, warm depths of the back of her throat. Her eyes opened, and she stared straight up. Her lips enveloped him, her tongue taunting him with its silky wetness. He wasn’t going to last.

Drawing back, he rooted, half-blind, in the drawer of his nightstand. Finding what he was looking for, he slipped on the condom. Then he knelt and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed so she could sit. Jane arched her back, keening a sound of longing just before he molded his mouth to her core. She was so fucking turned on, he could taste her through her panties.

He watched her face as he licked at her with the tip of his tongue, pushing aside her panties with two fingers, and then pressing them inside her. She closed her eyes and moaned. He pushed deeper, then pulled out, again and again. She rode them, meeting each thrust. Jealous of his fingers, he slid them out of her, wet with her arousal. Tugging the wispy panties down her toned legs, he threw them on the floor and put his mouth directly onto her, sliding his tongue into her moist flesh. She immediately responded, bucking her hips and nearly pushing him past the point of no return.

He reared back, standing, lifting her thighs off the bed, shaping her to him. “Are you ready?”

She clawed the bed covers, trying to shift her hips closer, making him butt against her pussy with the blunt head of his dick.

She mewled.

He would take that as a yes.

Fuck. He pushed inside her with one sure thrust. Christ, that felt fucking unbelievable. He retracted and shoved into her again. She screamed, reaching for him, trying to get a grip, but he held her so all she could do was take him deeper. He rammed into her again.

She bucked. “So. Good.”

Her words were disjointed, her breasts rising with her rapid breath, her body shuddering each time he moved into her.

Three more thrusts in rapid succession. He’d forgotten the extreme pleasure of sex, maybe because it had been so long. Or maybe it had never been this good.

Her muscles tugged against him, pulling, milking, taking him into a world where only pleasure existed. Her breasts jiggled, but he resisted their temptation and focused on her mouth. As he leaned over to kiss her, the only contact they shared was between their legs, and now their mouths. She sucked a groan out of him, pulling his tongue past her lips, mirroring their movements.

Several more thrusts of his cock and he was coming home.

He dragged his mouth to her ear.

“I’m taking you with me, babe,” he murmured.

Pulling back and flipping her onto her stomach, he drew her buttocks back into his hands, squeezing them before watching himself enter her from behind. He was coming before he fully penetrated her. She screamed, slamming back onto his cock, catapulting off her forearms, arching, shuddering. He caught her breasts, holding her while she rode out her orgasm on top of his.

And he was spent. He wrapped his arms around her, leaned her back against his torso, and nuzzled her neck. Sweat heated their skin.

“Now that,” she said, out of breath, “was A-list sex.”

Chapter Five

She’d slept with Cady Hewes. Most of the women in America would be jealous. Jane opened her eyes to the early morning Guatemalan sunshine filtering through the shades of his bedroom window. He cradled her shoulder with the warm length of his arm, her chin tucked at the side of his chest. The sprinkling of dark hair tickled her cheek and she darted a soft kiss onto the skin beneath.

He stirred, but she didn’t want him awake yet. Stretching her legs beneath the light sheet, she tested her muscles. Every inch of her body felt supple and well-used. Last night had been amazing, carnal in intensity. Something about the exotic location, the journey, or the craziness of the past two weeks had awakened a sensuous side of her she hadn’t known existed. The way he had touched her... The memory turned her on. Her heart felt extra-large, as if more of a connection had been formed in their coming together.

Afterward, exhausted, they’d fallen into bed and slept for hours. She longed to trail her hand down his abdomen, to linger over each curve and hard plane. Yet part of her was afraid to see his eyes open.

What if he turned out to be like an average guy, dismissive in the morning? Jane didn’t think she could bear to take the walk of shame. She really liked him, and was happy just to be near him. She had to be careful, or she would fall for him. Hard. He was a man to love, and the thought scared the hell out of her.

Danger, danger, Jane.

God, she needed caffeine.

Slipping away and over him, she managed to find her jeans and shirt, sparing a glance at his minimalist bedroom—wood and whitewash, functional and bare. For someone who must’ve made millions in his youth, he lived with just the basics. She smiled, liking what that told her about him, making her think of something her mother had always said.

Resources, Jane. Find a man with resources.

The thought of her mom reminded her of her task for today. Finding Dad.

Jane found ground coffee in the fridge. Discovering the coffeemaker proved easy, since it was one of few automated machines in the rustic kitchen. She rustled up a strong carafe of caffeine-rich brew. After finding the back door to the house through a tiny utility room, she walked outside, cup in hand.

The sun shone through the green foliage and warmed her back. Birds chirped and other jungle animals screeched. Somewhere, a rooster crowed. She rounded the abode and the lake came into view in stunning glory.

A girl could get used to living in the jungle.

A short wooden dock led out to the bright, reflecting water and she wandered along it in bare feet. A blue boat bobbed at the end, paddle inside. Beyond, a scaly tail slithered by. She jerked backward, spilling coffee onto the damp planks.

“Lake’s full of crocs.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Cady had come up behind her. Afraid to turn, she waited until her pulse settled. “I’m glad I didn’t dive in for a swim.”

“I do it all the time. It’s usually safe.”

She turned, shaking her head.

Cady wore a sexy, navy tee and tight jeans. He took her cup from her hands, gazing at her as he drank several gulps. His eyes read hers, brown and searching.

“I need to use a phone,” she said, remembering she should check in with Allison back home, and Margo somewhere in the Virgin Islands. Was Margo having any luck following the investigator’s lead?

Cady’s eyes narrowed and he shoved the coffee back into her grasp. That shuttered look dropped over his features. Had she said something wrong?

“I need to call home,” she explained.

“Right, the whole finding your father thing.”

“Right.”

“I need to buy groceries in town. I’ll come with you.”

She bit her lip, hoping he could do more than that. “I was thinking. If you didn’t mind, I’m gonna need a translator.”

He looked down briefly, as if thinking it over.

“I have a photo of my father,” she said. “It’s twenty years old, but it might help.”

“What makes you think he’s here?”

“The investigator I hired found a four-year-old newspaper article about a Zach Caldwell from the U.S. who lived here. He pulled a girl out of a mudslide. More research turned up a rental agreement with his full name. The P.I. made some phone calls and, supposedly, a man matching my father’s description was seen here in town.”

Cady stared at her mouth, and she was struck by the memory of what his lips felt like molded to hers.

“You want more coffee?” he asked.

Her cup was empty, her throat suddenly dry. “Sure.”

Her back burned from his gaze as they returned indoors. She wondered why he had he become so withdrawn just then. He didn’t seem to want her calling home.

Cady pulled two travel mugs from a drawer and offered them up. “Let’s take it to go.”

…

Jane and Cady showed Zach’s photo in several shops, ending up in a grocery store after discovering that Zach had rented an apartment on the premises. Jane asked Cady to tell the old man behind the counter about the will, and that she was Zach’s daughter who wanted to take him home to claim his inheritance and his family. She spotted a pair of comfortable shoes and brought them to the clerk, trying to follow their Spanish.

“We thought he’d died in the military,” she added, pausing to let Cady translate.

“He says Zach Caldwell left here three years ago,” Cady said after the clerk responded.

“Where did he go?” she asked.

Cady spoke in impressive Spanish while the clerk tallied the total. She bought the cheap running shoes, relieved to have a substitute for her high-heels.

“Since Caldwell vacated the apartment upstairs, he’s heard no more about him.”

Jane sagged in disappointment. Had she come this far only to have missed her dad?

A dark-haired, brown-faced teenager in the line behind them identified himself as Carlos, and nodded at the photo of her dad, speaking in Spanish to Cady.

“What?” she asked.

“He says he thinks he spotted your dad on the road to Tikal a month or so ago.”

Tikal was the nearby site of the Mayan ruins. The clerk pulled out an ancient road map, and the man and boy pointed to various locations.

Cady turned to her. “They think that Zach might live along the route. There are several ex-pats in the area. That’s heavy jungle, but someone could live out there with only the occasional trip to town for supplies.”

She drew him aside. “Can you take me to him?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll hold off on calling my sisters until I have news.” With any luck, she would know for certain, within a matter of hours, if Zach Caldwell was here.

The teenager and clerk ceased their chatter and looked at her expectantly.

“Ask them how to get there.”

…

The ‘chicken bus,’ as Cady called it—a converted, highly decorated, retired American school bus that passed for local transport—deposited them on the mud road at the foot of a hill.

After walking a half-mile uphill, they found what might be Zach’s house, although the structure looked more like a shack. A wire fence surrounded the property and a goat stood tethered to a stump a couple of feet away. Nerves filled Jane’s gut and she shot Cady a glance. Sweat formed a saturated stripe down the middle of his narrow back. She looked no better.

If her father actually lived here, what on earth would she say to him? What if he didn’t recognize her? As if sensing her unease, Cady slipped his arm around her waist, not overly possessive, just comforting. She hoped he had dealt with whatever had made him distant toward her this morning.

The front door of the house creaked open, its occupant in shadow. What if it was truly her father? Her hands trembled.

“Who’s there?” a man called.

Cady’s arm tightened. “We’re looking for someone. An American,” he shouted.

The goat bleated.

The man stepped into the light and Jane caught sight of him. Was he her dad? She squinted into the sun, and her heart beat frantically.

“Come on up,” the man replied.

She and Cady navigated through foliage and potholes, entering the compound. The man moved toward them, dragging one of his legs as if from an old injury.

War wound?

Jane surveyed his weathered face for signs of recognition. His brown eyes creased in wonderment.

“Jane? Is that you?”

He recognizes me.

Her heart clenched. “Dad?” Her voice squeaked with disbelief.

Cady relaxed his hold on her.

The man held out his shirt-clad arms and Jane stepped into them. Gingerly, unsure, she hugged him. He smelled like tobacco. The man returned her tentative embrace, smiling. She supposed he could be her dad, even though his eyes appeared narrower than she remembered, and, in her youth, Zach Caldwell hadn’t been a smoker.

Excitement bubbled up, then anger. “Where the hell did you go? Why did you leave us?”

He drew back, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“How could you abandon your family like that? Mom told us you were dead.
She
thought you were dead.”

His lips peeled back in a rueful grimace. “Your mother said that?”

Jane nodded.

Zach blew out a breath and ran his hand through his gray, military-cut hair.

Her throat clenched and she couldn’t speak. So many questions and all she wanted to do was cry.

Zach glanced at Cady. “And you are?”

“Harrison. A friend.”

Zach looked back to Jane and tipped his head toward the door. “Come inside.”

Grasping Cady’s hand, she followed her father into the shack, made of wood and tin, and looking a bit unsturdy. Jane sat in a plastic chair while Zach searched for drinks and offered them a beer. Neither she nor Cady took one, but Zach cracked open a bottle and guzzled half of it.

I found my dad, I found my dad, I found my dad.

The mantra repeated in her brain, making it impossible for her to think. She had to call Ally and Margo. Lord knew how her sisters would react when she brought Zach Caldwell home. Growing up without a father had affected them, even though they’d barely known the man. Would they want to get to know him? Jane planned to call Margo this evening and tell her to return home as soon as possible.

“Why did you leave us?” Jane asked again. What could have possibly kept him away from his wife and children?

He shook his head, sighed, and took another swig of beer. He patted one of his knees. “See this bum leg?”

Jane nodded, eyebrows low.

“Blown up by a landmine. In Iraq.” He sounded haggard, his voice raspy from too many cigarettes. “I was alone, scouting a village. Damn thing exploded just feet away and almost ripped my leg off. Some locals took me in, hid me from the enemy. I was in bed for weeks, unconscious. After I woke up, it took months for my memory to come back. By then,” he appeared close to tears, “you’d already grieved and got on with your lives.”

Jane shook her head, aghast. Tears trailed down her cheeks. “Oh my God, no. How could you have thought that? You should have come home.”

“I hate to see you cryin’, Jane.” Zach said. “But I believed I did the right thing.”

“Why?” Her throat stung.

“I had to stay away.”

“What do you mean?”

“Damn Army had me gone all the time. Your mother couldn’t handle it. She said it damaged you. When I didn’t come home for almost a year, I thought it would be best just to stay away for good.”

Jane shook her head. “I remember the day an Army officer came to the ranch to tell us you had died. Mom was devastated. So was I.”

But her father wasn’t dead. He sat right in front of her, looking happy to see her.

Zach leaned forward and propped his elbows on his khaki-clad legs. “How is your mother?”

Jane drew in a sharp breath and her throat constricted with sorrow.

“She passed away recently,” Cady said.

Zach’s mouth flapped open and then shut again, his eyes dazed.

“That’s why I’m here,” Jane said, finding her voice. “She bequeathed some of her estate to you in her will.”

God, it was hard to say those words.

He sat back and the rickety chair squeaked. “I’m sorry to hear about Candace. But I find that last part hard to believe.”

“We all did.”

“All?”

“Allison and Margo.”

“Of course. Are they both well?”

“They miss Mom. If you come back to New Mexico I think it’ll help them. You
will
come back, won’t you?” He
had
to.

He rubbed his jaw and finished his beer. “Let me think about it, Jane.”

She pressed her lips together and bowed her head.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Zach said. “I just need some time to process everything.” He dragged his age-spotted hand down his face. “It’s such a shock.”

Jane understood. She’d been shocked by all this, too. “Why wouldn’t you come back to New Mexico with me?”

He made a sweeping gesture. “I’ve got a life here, as you can see.”

Some kind of life.

“And that’s a long way.” Zach said.

They sat quietly for what seemed like forever to Jane.

“When you goin’ back?” Zach asked.

Jane’s stomach tightened. “Tomorrow. That’s all the time I have here. All the time the station would give me. I’ve taken off a lot recently—because of Mom.”

Cady squeezed her arm.

Zach rubbed his knuckles against his scruffy jaw. “That’s awfully quick.”

Jane had to restrain herself from begging him.

Zach bunched his dry lips and looked around the dilapidated shack, shaking his head. “I need to tell you, I was wrong. I know that now. I often thought about you girls. And your mother. I wondered if I’d made the wrong call.”

“But you can come back now. Mom’s gone, but Margo, Ally and I… ” Jane swiped a tear from her cheek. “Just give us a chance.”

Zach stood, limped to the makeshift kitchen, and got another beer.

Cady cleared his throat.

Zack nipped his beer. “Come on back tomorrow, then. I’ll go to New Mexico with you… at least for a little while.”

Relief flooded through Jane, leaving her weak. She nodded, rising shakily, then hugged Zach.

Tears trickled down her face and she held Zach’s hand until the last moment. Joy and longing warred with resentment as she bid her father goodbye.