Authors: Cait Jarrod
She nodded.
“I feel the same. You working in the café
is dangerous work. What if, a boiling pot of water lands on your foot?”
She punched him in the arm. “You’re not
funny.”
He leaned in close, smirking. “Not just a
little bit?” he said near her lips.
She held her finger and thumb apart a
fraction of an inch. “Just a little.”
Easing her to him, he pressed her body
into his as their lips met. He kissed her. Slow at first, as if he didn’t know
if she wanted it. With her good hand, she latched on to his shirt, and the kiss
became powerful. Her lips parted at his tongue’s perusal, giving her flashbacks
of their time together the night before. Hunger took over, and her hand trailed
over his hard, muscular chest.
Moaning, he pulled back and groaned. “I
don’t want to stop, but we’ve got to go.”
Not
yet
. She kissed his jawline and traveled to his
lips where she licked them, baiting him.
Another rough sound escaped him. Moving
her against his body, he bit the defenseless spot below her ear. Her limbs
melted.
“We’ve got to go before I start tugging
off your clothes.”
“Promises, promises.”
A splash in the water turned them around.
More ospreys had joined the feeding frenzy, though these were much smaller than
the two-foot bird next to them.
“The young are learning. They’re
beautiful,” Pamela said as the birds flew away.
“They are.” He kissed her cheek.
After the birds flew out of sight, he
asked, “How’s your wound?” His voice lost the sexiness she heard moments ago.
For a second while they kissed, she had
forgotten about her battle scars. Her head didn’t hurt too much, but her
shoulder was sending sharp pains down her arm. “Shoulder hurts.”
“I think Steve has some medicine he can
give you. At first, we didn’t want you to have medicine until we knew what
injuries we were dealing with.”
He stretched out his hand. They walked
through the trees, Jake moving the branches so she could pass on the way, and
joined Steve back in the clearing. He was inventorying their supplies. “Here.”
He handed Pamela a few pills. “It’s for your shoulder.”
“Mind reader.” She sat down on the log a
few feet away and took her medicine. “Steve, where did you disappear to this
morning?”
Steve grabbed the brown bags full of
their empty tins and shoved them in his duffle. “I was in the main house in the
tower. After the men realized imprisoning me wasn’t a bright idea, I followed
two of them to the dock.”
“We know why the two guys were standing
guard near the ship,” Jake said.
“I shimmied down the fire escape ladder
on the outside of the house. Those fucks I followed loaded a boat with
supplies. From my position at the restaurant, I watched you two peek around the
house. It was all I could do not to laugh and blow my cover. You were pretty
comical.”
Jake grimaced.
“When you boarded the boat, I followed
the assholes boarding the second boat.”
“We need to get out of here. Pamela needs
clothes.” Jake pulled off a boot and turned it upside down. Water puddled
below.
“Geez, man, you sat all this time with
water in your boot?” Steve chuckled. “You must have been starved.”
Jake shrugged. “Didn’t notice. I lost
both guns in the water. Got an extra?”
Steve tilted his head toward a small
pouch on a nearby log. “That’s yours.”
“It’s as if you have a bag of tricks,”
Pamela said, sipping the last of her soda. “Where’s mine?”
Steve’s eyebrows arched. “Yours?” He cut
his eye at Jake. “You gave her a gun?”
“Wait a minute. I used to go to the range
with you all the time.”
Steve considered this. “You did. Pamela,
these men aren’t the same as the stationary targets you shot at. They’re real
people.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,
Stephen Anderson.”
He shook his head. “I hate when you play
that card, just like my mother.” He zipped up his bag. “I don’t have any more
guns. I’m going to go get us a boat. We can’t take the Jet Skis all the way
back to
Besides, I’m sure they’re on the police radar as stolen vehicles.” He slung his
bag over his shoulder as he stood. “I’ll be back. I left some necessities for
you in the bag by the log.”
“Where will you find a boat?” She paused,
looking dazed. “Are you going to steal it, too?”
“No choice.” Steve kissed Pamela’s cheek.
“You okay?”
She knew he was actually asking if she
would be okay to stay with the Jake. “I’m good,” she said, sending Jake a smile.
Steve grumbled, and Jake helped him push
his ski into the water. A second later, he rode away, a rooster tail of water
following.
Pamela faced Jake. Something flashed in
his eyes, and her heart fluttered. She sashayed into the shelter of the oaks.
He followed. With hooded eyes, he crowded her until she bumped a tree. Like
when Sam had attacked her, yet, his face didn’t appear in her mind’s eye. For
the first time in months, she was certain that Sam wouldn’t be able to haunt
her anymore. She stroked Jake’s cheek. She had him to thank.
“We might as well make use of our time
alone.” He cleared his throat. “That’s if you want to.”
Pamela looked around the deserted island.
Trees, sand, and water. No one was around for miles. It would take Steve a
minimum of an hour to find civilization, then he had the chore of finding a
boat. They had plenty of time do as they pleased. Instead of responding, she
rose up on her tiptoes. The tip of her tongue brushed the skin on his neck.
A low, husky moan was her reward. His
forearm settled on the tree above her head. The other hand hugged her body to
him as his mouth moved swiftly and efficiently over hers. A tremor rippled
across her skin as his hand slid to her butt.
****
Jake watched Pamela’s eyes darken, the
pulse in her neck quicken. A sheen of sweat pebbled his forehead. She wanted
him as much as he wanted her. Ever since he’d gotten his first taste of her,
his body had been on fire. He wanted her naked, wiggling under him in the
throes of an orgasm she wouldn’t ever forget. With the sand and no blanket,
that feat would be about near impossible.
Pamela took matters into her own hands.
Her fingers worked fast on the button of his pants and his zipper. She shoved
them down along with his briefs. He leaned his forehead on the bark beside her
head. “I don’t have a condom.”
A wicked grin stretched across her face.
“Not a problem.”
In the second it took to register what
she meant, she was kneeling in front of him.
“Christ, Pamela.” His fingers threaded
through her hair, making their way to hook under her shoulders. He tugged.
Having sex was one thing, but this was altogether different. “Not that way.”
“Ouch.”
Her
shoulder
. “Shit, I’m sorry.
She kissed his lips and disappeared once
again. Breaking out into a sweat, he resumed his former position, leaning his
arm on the tree. His head fell against it.
The sensation she inspired drove him
crazy.
This was not the time or place,
but it
felt so good
. He couldn’t.
One last tug on her end and he did what he told his body not to. He came hard
and fast. His knees buckled, and he sank to the sand next to her.
To hell with the sand, he’d deal with the
nuisances of where it landed later. His bare butt hit the ground, and he pulled
her into his lap.
Time to repay the favor
.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The afternoon sun cast its beams on Jake,
and he wiped the sweat off his brow, receiving a handful of sticky sand in
return. He swiped his hand on his shorts, took a deep intoxicating breath of
Pamela’s mango and salt scented hair, and looked out at the smooth surface of
the
The calm before the storm
.
Mallards quacked above, and gentle waves
hit the shore. Everything was quiet and peaceful. If only life could be this
serene. Absently, he rubbed Pamela’s back. Her skin was soft, like touching a
basketful of silk scarves, just like the ones his mother had kept on her
dresser. Mom would have loved Pamela. However, she’d have gotten after him for
dating such a superficial woman as Jennifer. Jake shrugged off the direction of
his thought. He needed to concentrate on the case.
With Wine out of the picture, he wondered
about the Black Scorpion members that had befriended him. Who would they form
their alliance with now? And where had Jameson been all this time?
Pamela shifted on top of him, and his
wayward thoughts returned. Their bodies still entangled from their last
intimate encounter, the comfort he felt was unlike any he’d ever experienced.
He slid his hand out from beneath her shirt and pulled her closer to him. After
pleasuring each other, they had dressed and curled up. Pamela lay on top of him
to keep her wounds clean, then they both had fallen asleep.
From the position of the sun, he’d
figured it was about three o’clock. Steve should be back anytime. He and Pamela
needed to get moving.
He nudged her. She mumbled something
about flying squirrels, but didn’t move. Last night, they had only gotten two
hours of sleep. Not enough for either one of them, but they needed to be ready
to leave as soon as Steve arrived. “Pamela, we need to get up.”
“Owwww,” she groaned as she moved her
arm.
Jake slid his hand under her, helping her
to a sitting position.
“No flying squirrels?” she mumbled.
One eyebrow lifted along with the corner
of his mouth. “Haven’t seen any, but I wasn’t in your dream either.”
She grinned. “You were. We were doing the
flying squirrel.”
The other eyebrow shot up. “You’ll have
to teach me that one.”
“I will.”
The sun was strong this time of year. The
evidence was clear when he looked at Pamela. One side of her face was a nice
shade of pink while the other was pale. “Ummm.” Maybe he’d let that go until
later. As he overheard earlier, she had enough to deal with.
He brushed the hair away from her face.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m doing okay.” The pain was visible in
her face, but he found her tough act adorable.
“What happened to my face?” She patted
one side, then the other. “I’m sunburned on half of my face.”
“Afraid so. Try not to touch it.”
“You could’ve told me. Now, I have sand
stinging the burn.”
“Let’s check the bag of tricks for
ointment.”
They stood, and she wiped the remaining
sand off on her shorts and looked at Jake. He shifted, his pants suddenly becoming
uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed, then her head cocked to the side.
“Pamela, what are you looking at?”
She tucked her chin. “Does your face
hurt?”
“No, but I think I have sand in my
pants.” He wiggled his nose. The right side of his face stung. He touched the
area, landing on a bump. His fingers trailed along the bridge of his nose, then
his cheeks. “Son of a bitch. I have poison ivy.”
Pamela nodded, giggling. “I’d say. You
look as if you have the chicken pox.”
“Let’s find that bag,” he growled,
pulling her along behind him.
Antiseptic wipes, Band-Aids, Motrin, eye
drops, cold packs. “Found them. Poison ivy medicine and here is the Solarcaine.
I’ll spray it on your hands then you can dab it on your face.”
Damn, he needed to get the sand out of
his pants. He jostled things around down there, then sprayed Pamela’s hands.
His underwear was bunched, and he shifted
from side to side, trying to straighten them as he rubbed ointment on the bumps
on his face.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Sand.”
Pamela’s eyebrow quirked a second before
she started to laugh.
He screwed the top back on the tube.
“What’s so funny?”
“Jake, you might want to check yourself.”
Her eyes drifted to his midsection.
He looked at her, trying to figure out
what she was talking about, then it hit him. “Shit.” He popped the button and
unzipped his pants, then yanked them and his briefs down.
Damn, damn, damn
.
“Do you want me to put the ointment on
for you?” Pamela asked, gulping for air between bursts of laughter.
He held up his hand. “No. I got it,” he
said through clenched teeth. Finished, he zipped his pants and sent Pamela a
sideways look. A playful smile brightened his face. “You know,” he hit the tube
of ointment against his hand, “if I have it, there’s a good chance you do,
too.”
Pamela’s mouth snapped shut.