Inseverable: A Carolina Beach Novel (17 page)

My motions cause her to rip her hot mouth from mine and break our kiss. With wide eyes she stares down, her hips circling in time with my fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” I rasp.

She shakes her head slowly, her throaty moans goading me to increase my speed.

Christ
, it’s all I can do not to tear her clothes off.

She falls forward, her head pushing into my shoulder. I know she likes this, I can hear it. I can feel it. But I want more.

I hook my fingers through the crotch of her tiny shorts and slide them beneath her panties, rubbing them against her slick folds. She cries out, like she’s afraid—like I’m hurting her—despite that her pelvis rocks against my hand with equal force.

I swear out loud because I don’t want to stop. But I won’t scare her, and I refuse to hurt her.

I loll my head to the side, placing my lips against her ear. “Tell me to stop,” I gasp.

“
No
.”

Her shoulders rise and fall, like she’s crying. I slow my movements, so hot in need of her, I can barely speak. “Trin, if it’s too much . . .”

I start to withdraw my hand, but hers covers mine, keeping me in place. She lifts her head, her lids heavy, her voice strained. That’s when I realize she’s not crying. No . . . she’s just close to coming undone.

“Please, don’t stop,” she rasps. Her lashes flutter as my fingers return to play. “You feel
so good
.”

It’s all the permission I need. My other hand clamps the back of her neck, yanking her to me for another kiss. Her tongue drives into me deep, showing me how bad she wants me. I want her, too, and ease a finger inside her to show her.

The moment I’m in, I curl my finger, moving it fast. Trinity rolls onto her side, biting back a curse. I follow her, twisting and removing my arm trapped beneath her to pull her shirt loose of her waistband.

I yank her shirt up along with her bra, my mouth finding a perfect pink nipple and drawing it in to suck.

She whimpers, jolting hard.

When she comes, it’s nothing graceful. It’s gritty and sexy as all hell. Her body shudders violently and she clutches my head against her, writhing with pleasure. I wait until the tightening eases around my fingers and her quivers lessen before pulling out.

God, I want her. To grip her tight and ride her harder. But I can’t. This is Trinity. The woman who saved me from me, and from all the dead who followed me home.

For what seems like forever, we simply stare at each other. Her flushed face beautifully split between ardor and happiness. But then she kisses me briefly, and does something I don’t expect.

The long strands of her dark hair pass along my bare chest, brushing my pecs, stomach . . . oh,
shit
. She yanks my shorts down and takes me deep in her mouth.

I slap my hands against the sheets, twisting them around my hands for something to grip. Between the audible pulls of her mouth and her firm and fast hold, my vision spins and my heart threatens to launch through my chest.

I abandon the sheets and smooth my fingers through her hair, tracing them along her scalp. I grunt when she goes deeper, her speed and flicking tongue making me harder with each pass. My hands gather the strands hiding her face. I want to watch what she’s doing, but I’m not prepared for what I see.

Trin’s face is a blend of lust and passion, puckering her lips like she never wants to let go.

My words release in mangled groans. “Just like that, baby . . . yeah, just like that . . .”

The way I speak, and what I say, seems to please her, spurring her movements with mind-blowing aggression. Her moans vibrate along my length, sending my need for her spiraling over the edge.

I tell her how good it feels and how bad I want her. My reward is her quickening speed and a view of her sexy backside swirling like she’s riding me. I’m turning her on without touching her. But I
want
to touch her and spend the day making love to her.

Damn, will she let me push inside of her?

I’m ready to come when her phone starts ringing and buzzing against my bedside table. Considering what she’s doing, and how fine she’s doing it, I don’t care about the phone. I only care about her and what’s about to happen.

I haul her to me as I feel my release, kissing her with all the passion she’s riled within me. She knows what’s happening and hangs on, rubbing and finishing me off. I jerk so hard, I rock us both, unable to hang onto our kiss.

Her lips trail along my neck and shoulder. I can’t control my breathing, and neither can she, both of us reeling from what’s happened, and what we’re about to do next.

I lift her hips and wrench her shorts down. Again, her phone rings. This time, she stops what I’m doing and pulls away.

“Sorry, I have to get this,” she says, reaching for the phone. “Hello?”

“Trin. It’s me, Hale. I know you said you’d be late, but we need you here now.”

She scoots her butt, trying to pull her shorts back on with her free hand. “What’s wrong?”

“A storm’s hit off the coast. The waves are getting rough and we’re trying to shut down the beach. Problem is we’re down four guards.”

“
Four
guards?” Trin says.

“Yup. All with food poisoning. But that’s what happens when you eat at Bucky’s Burgers,” he adds. He sighs when she hesitates. “Trin, you know I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t necessary. But I need you down here.”

“Okay,” she tells him quietly. “I’m on my way.”

She disconnects and adjusts her breasts beneath the cups, her messy hair falling around her as she hurries to fix her disheveled clothes. It’s only when she stands to shove her feet into her shoes that she looks back at me. “I’m sorry. ButI have to go.”

I clasp her wrist, pulling her back. “
Don’t
,” I tell her. “Get someone else to cover for you, and stay here with me.”

She leans in and strokes my face. “I can’t. They need me.”

She kisses my mouth and hurries out the door. I sit up and swipe my face, realizing for the first time just how badly I need her, too.

Chapter Fifteen

Trinity

My head was still spinning from my morning with Callahan when I arrived at the beach. But reality hit me the moment I saw how bad the waves were and found my team struggling to save a couple of swimmers who were caught in the riptide. With four lifeguards down, I ended up jumping in the water with my clothes on to rescue a little boy. It’s not the first time I’d saved someone from drowning, but this little boy, whose face was so white with fear, hit me especially hard.

I didn’t notice Callahan arrive. My team and I were too busy trying to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for. But there he is, waiting patiently while the sheriff, the owner of Magenta Groves, the EMTs and I conference to discuss everything that happened. Like the rest of my team, I pushed myself to my breaking point. But it was saving that little boy from drifting away that well-neared choked the life out me. I’m tired and want nothing more than to leave with Callahan. But I try not to let it show as I listen to each man speak.

The sheriff nods. “The other beaches pulled their swimmers out when they got wind that Magenta Groves was closing shop. Just so you know, your executive decision likely helped save a lot of lives all over the island.”

I smile at Hale since it was his call. “I’d expect no less from my second in command,” I tell them.

With the owner’s permission, Hale and I step away.

“So, I’m you’re second in command?” Hale asks, smirking in that way that makes all those pretty gals chasing him swoon.

“Of course,” I tell him. “And after today, I think you deserve a promotion and a raise.”

“A raise, too?” he says.

I pat his back. “That’s right. I’m going to make sure you get that buck fifty an hour extra if it kills me.”

He laughs, but then glances up when one of the ambulances pulls away. One of the men, he and Mason pulled out is stable, but given his age, they’re taking him to the local hospital to make sure he’s okay.

“It could have been bad,” Hale says, his humor fading as the ambulance disappears. “Real bad. It didn’t take long for those waves to go from bad to worse, and for the riptide to drag people under.”

“I know.” I look to where Callahan is sitting on the sand. To any outsider, he looks like someone simply taking everything in. But I recognize that detached stare in his gaze, similar to the way I’d found him last night. The two men sprawled along the sand just moments ago, along with the little boy being cared for must have triggered more of those terrible memories.

“Lewis is dead,” he called out last night when his PTSD hit him hard.

Had he carried Lewis’s body out from the ambush he spoke of? The way he seems to stare out into the distance, makes me think he’s carried his share of fallen friends.

I shudder. Today might have been something out of a bad dream for me. But for years, war had been his everyday nightmare.

Hale nudges me with his elbow. “Why don’t you check on him?” he says. “I’ll go around and make sure the team’s getting the stragglers off the beach.”

I pat his arm appreciatively. I didn’t realize how lost in my thoughts I was until Hale touched me. “Thanks, Hale.”

My feet kick back the moist sand as I ease down to Callahan’s side. He frowns when he sees me and wraps the large blanket folded at his side around me. It’s one of those we use for emergencies, I wonder briefly which guard he asked for it, but I’m so touched by the gesture, I don’t wonder for very long.

“You look cold,” he points out.

“I’m all right.” It’s what I claim, but when I feel the warm skin of his shoulder press against my cheek, I realize how chilled I am in these soaked clothes.

His hand skims down my arm and over the quickly forming goose bumps. The days have been so hot. But beneath the overcast sky, I feel that same bitter cold I felt when I went after that little boy. I saw him out there, but the current was taking him out to sea so fast, it took me a long time to catch him, and another few minutes to find him when the ocean dragged him under.

The sand was kicking up from the bottom, making it hard to see. But God led me to him, and gave me the strength I needed to get him to shore. He was there for us, all of us, helping us save everyone we needed to despite our low numbers.

“You followed me here,” I say, pointing out the obvious.

“I couldn’t stay in bed without you,” he says, his words warming me in a way this blanket never could.

He gathers my body around him, like I’m not soaked to the bone, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I also didn’t want to leave you out here on your own. If things got bad, I wanted to be around to help.”

The deep thrum in his voice causing me to melt further against him. “Thank you,” I tell him.

In the quiet that takes us in like the breeze skimming across the sand, I remember how it felt to lay against him all night. I draped my body against his. Not only because of my need to feel close to him, but because he seemed to drift away. I don’t want to admit how much he scared me, or how I worried he’d run out into night. But I can’t ignore what I saw, or pretend his reaction was no big deal.

“Last night was really hard on you,” I say, wondering if he can even hear me with how softly I speak.

“Yeah,” he offers, but not much more.

“Is it always that bad around fireworks?” I press.

“Don’t know,” he says, appearing to hesitate to even answer that much.

I feel him trying to put some space between us, so when he rests his cheek against my head, I’m grateful for the closeness it seems to bring us.

“It’s the first time I’ve heard any real explosions since I’ve been back,” he admits, the roughness in his voice and his sudden response taking me by surprise. “I don’t think they would have been as bad, but things have gotten worse for me since learning Billy died.” He huffs. “For all I know, maybe it still would have been bad, even if nothing had happened to Billy.”

“Have you been to counseling?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I tried it, briefly. But I couldn’t keep going. I wasn’t ready to talk—to put it all out there. All I wanted to do was to forget.”

“But you haven’t forgotten,” I say carefully.

“No. You don’t forget things I’ve seen,” he says. “Those memories etch into your bones and become a part of you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, wishing I could say something better.

My arms fasten around his waist. I want to take away some of that pain and ease his suffering. But I know I can’t, so I wait, resting my head against his chest. It’s my way of reminding him he’s not alone, and maybe to remind myself he’s also with me.

He pauses then angles his head, examining me closer. “You all right?”

I nod quickly, but then pull up the edge of the towel to cover my face when a lump claims my throat and my eyes burn with impending tears. Callahan draws me closer, speaking low against my ear.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. When I don’t answer he says, “Tell me why you’re crying, baby.”

Something about the way he calls me “baby” is so comforting that after a moment, I’m able to reign in my emotions to some respectable degree. But I’ll admit, some of that fear I felt escapes my eyes and trails down my cheeks.

I use the towel to wipe my face and sniffle. Crying is not something I do often. But when it happens, it’s like my soul is bleeding tears. I don’t like this feeling, and every last emotion that comes with it, and I especially don’t like it now. Everyone’s okay, I remind myself. Everyone.

It’s not the first time I’ve had a post-rescue breakdown. But the situation today, coupled with the night I spent with Callahan makes my fears more brutal and raw. I think it’s because my vulnerability appears to dismantle more in his presence. It’s not a bad thing, I reason. It’s simply the way he affects me. Everything around him—all these emotions—be it sadness or joy I feel to the extreme when he’s near. Yet I wouldn’t want it any other way.

With Callahan with me, my world is simply better.