Riding the Storm (30 page)

"You're
asking too much."

Pain
sliced through her. "I thought you said you wanted to trust me."

"Wanting
to and being able to are different things." He wrapped a lock of her hair
around his finger, and then drew it across her cheek in a long, tender stroke.
She instantly softened at the contrasting sensation of his callused pad and her
silky curl on her skin, and her body melted against him, her heart thawing like
the polar ice caps.

"I
trust my gun and my gut," he said after a short pause. "So far,
neither has let me down."

Like
you have
. His unspoken words hung
above them like black clouds in the cool air. She scooted away and stood.
"We need to go."

He
came to his feet and pulled her into his arms again. "Haley, ask me to do
anything else." He tipped her chin up so she had to look into his eyes.
"Just not that. I can't gamble with my dad's life. He wasn't the best
parent in the world, but he's all I have."

"You'll
have so much more if you just give ACRO a chance."

Give
me a chance.

The
stray thought rattled her, and she broke free once more, as though she'd spoken
out loud. The distance didn't help. She kept thinking crazy things, like,
Trust
me. Give me a chance. Make love to me until nothing exists but us
.

Yeah,
treading water had just become impossible, and Haley was sinking fast.

The
motel was old, off the map, and the bed creaked to high heaven every time Remy
or Haley moved. And they were going to be moving a lot, now that they had a
room to themselves and nothing else to do but wait.

After
Remy had hotwired Remy Senior's truck and they'd hightailed it out of the bar's
parking lot and out of the bayou, he'd noticed Haley seemed quiet.

At
first, he'd attributed it to what had happened to her. Every time he thought
about someone breaking into her mind, hurting her that way, his anger would
rise. Which wasn't good, not for a mission like this, anger wasn't the
healthiest emotion to carry into battle with you; it could throw off your game
if you weren't careful.

But
she'd insisted she was all right, and the closer they got to Lafayette, the
more time she spent reassuring him that everything was going to be all right.

Now,
in the motel room, she was still trying to take his mind off things—and
although it wasn't completely working, she was doing a damned fine job.

"Mmmmm,
that's nice, Remy," she murmured, from where she sat straddling him on the
bed.

She'd
showered while he did a perimeter check outside their room—it was on the second
floor, overlooking the street, which was exactly what he'd wanted—and when he'd
come back inside, he'd stripped her towel off as soon as he'd gotten a chance.

First,
he'd insisted on using the antibiotic cream and bandages on her ankles and
feet, guilt tugging at him that he hadn't forced her to let him carry her
pack—or her—through the marshes.

Damned
stubborn woman.

Then
he'd gotten distracted by her naked body, and had kissed his way up her calves
even as he massaged her feet.

Now
he sat up against the headboard and took his time to just play with her perfect
breasts, sucking one nipple and then the other, until they turned a deep rose
color and the peaks stiffened and she was begging him for more. He tortured her
for a little longer, licked and blew softly on each taut peak.

She
shivered and grabbed at him and he really wished they could stay here in this
piece-of-shit motel room forever.

Plans
were going to be made later—for right now, it was all about Haley.

"Better
than nice," he murmured, trailed his tongue between her breasts and let
his hands trail down her bare buttocks.

She
pressed her sex against his groin. "You've got too many clothes on,"
she said. "Let me help you with that."

"I
could use a shower," he said.

"No,
not yet." She nipped along his neck. "I like the way you smell—like
the bayou and fresh rain."

She
helped him out of his shirt and moved off him so she could slide his pants
down. And then she licked her way over his chest and stomach before he could
get a hold of her again.

She
crawled between his legs, and he smiled, because he'd never met a woman who
enjoyed giving oral sex as much as Haley did. And right after he thanked his
lucky stars, he leaned on an elbow, before he lost control of his senses and
urged her backside toward him.

She
looked at him over her shoulder teasingly. "Why,
chere
, are you
asking what I think you're asking?"

"You
bet your ass," he said, gave hers a playful slap and let her straddle his
chest with her legs.

She
was already so wet for him, and he buried his face against her as she licked
the length of his cock and both their bodies jerked in unison from the pleasure.

He
moaned against her, then tongued the hard nub of her clit. She tasted so sweet,
like he could settle in and live here between her legs for a good, long time,
and he caressed her thighs with his hands while he sucked and licked for her
pleasure.

He
was more than aware of how his own body was responding, the way his muscles
tensed with need, and Jesus, her tongue was everywhere, licking his balls and
that hypersensitive area right behind them that made him practically jump off
the bed.

His
toes curled as she held his thighs apart, balancing her body weight on them,
and in turn he spread her wider and used his tongue to plunge as deeply inside
her as he could get. She bucked up, but he held her in place with his hips as
the patter of a soft but persistent rain began to tap the window.

She
wiggled against his face, her own moans vibrating around his cock, and she was
so ready, her fingers digging into his thighs as she worked his shaft up and
down. Just one long suckle on her clit and she was coming against his mouth and
he was coming in hers and the thunder boomed right outside their room in
appreciation, the rain a steady drum of applause.

Yeah,
Mother Nature was certainly showing her sense of humor. His skin tingled with
the electrical currents from the storm he'd just drawn in toward them, and
Haley turned her body around to nestle against his chest. She ran her
fingertips up and down his biceps and he felt her body relax into his.

"Mmm,
you still smell like rain. What were you doing outside earlier?" she
asked, her voice husky. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and he was prepared to let
her drift off while he protected them until dawn came.

According
to Haley, the magic men were supposed to show up at some point soon, and he
needed to be equally prepared for when they did and if they didn't.

"I
was just shoring up this place," he said. "It lacks an adequate
security system and I don't trust those Itor people as far as I can throw them.
Especially because they seem to be able to throw
me
with no
problem." He frowned at the memory and she kissed him lightly on the
forehead.

"We'll
get them, Remy. I know how worried you are about your father."

He
shrugged. "He's the only family I have. He never showed it the way I
wanted, but I know he cares about me on some level. Was the only one who
did."

"Not
the only one now," she said, and twined her legs through his, and God, he
really wanted to believe her.

"Don't
you think we should talk about all of this? " he asked finally. "I
know you need sleep, that you've been hurt, but we've got something going on
between us."

She
pushed herself off his chest onto her elbow so she could look at him. "You
know I had nothing to do with this," she said, touched his tattoo that
already looked more healed since that morning. Hers was healing at an equal
rate.

"There's
something between us," he repeated. "You know all about me. You told
me that, back on the bayou," he reminded her. "You know my past
history with women."

"Enough
to know that you've never wanted a history."

"Enough
to know that I
couldn't
have one, Haley. There's a big difference."

"And
now you want a history? With me?" she asked, and he wasn't sure if she
actually wanted him to say yes or not.

"I
don't know if it's the tattoos or the weather or the spell I threw when I was
ten…

"What
spell?"

He
paused, wondering if he was really going to admit this to her. "When I was
younger, when I knew I was different… Shit, this is embarrassing."

"Tell
me, Remy."

He
took a deep breath and continued, told the story quickly before he chickened
out. "I wanted someone who loved me, loved me for me. In spite of my
weather shit. Someone who understood it, and me. And so I threw a spell and
asked for all of that. And that night, for the first time, I had the
dream." He swallowed hard and Haley stroked his arm. "I dreamed about
the symbol. This symbol." He pointed to her tattoo.

"You've
been dreaming about this since you were ten?" she asked. "No wonder
you freaked when you first saw it."

"Yeah.
That was something I never expected to see. I'd forgotten about the spell.
Given up on finding someone. But I'd never stopped drawing this symbol."
His finger traced the tattoo, the one he could—and did—easily draw in his
sleep. "Never stopped dreaming about it."

Haley
sat up completely, drew the sheet around her as if she'd suddenly gotten a
chill. "What are you telling me? That you summoned me? That this is all
some kind of voodoo curse?"

Haley
stared at him, unsure how to handle this. It wasn't that she didn't believe
him. She just didn't like the idea that a damned curse may have put her life on
a course she hadn't set for herself. Not when her entire adult life had been
about doing what would give her the most control—over her career, over her
personal relationships.

"Tell
me, Haley, why is it that you call my ability to control the weather a gift,
but what we have together is a curse? What kind of criteria are you basing this
on? And who the hell gets to make that determination? You?"

Okaaaaay
. "What got up your ass?"

"Your
finger, once or twice."

"That's
very funny."

"Glad
you're amused, because I'm still wondering why some things you can't explain
are gifts and others are curses."

She
rubbed her temples, unsure of her own answer and thinking that the fact that it
was two in the morning didn't help her state of mind. "I don't like to
think my life has been predestined like that."

"And
you think I do? You aren't the only one with a tattoo,
bebe
. And you
sure as hell don't spend your days worrying about whether or not you're going
to hurt someone or compromise a mission because of a fucking strong wind."

He
was right. She was being unfair. Very unfair, especially considering that his
life had been one big storm track influenced by forces he couldn't control.

"I'm
sorry," she said softly. "I just… I've never wanted to fall in love.
I've avoided it all my life. So to think that some spell might influence my
feelings against my will…

"Why
wouldn't you want to fall in love?"

Shrugging,
she swung her legs off the bed. "Didn't you say you wanted to get
something to eat?"

Remy
grabbed her wrist. "Haley?"

He
didn't say it, but she owed him. Owed him for lying to him, for having him
brought to Bayou Blonde… which had led to his father being taken by some of the
most evil villains on the planet.

"Love
makes you give up things," she murmured. "It makes you selfish. And
blind."

His
gaze bored into her with such intensity that she had to look away. "Where
is this coming from? Did some guy hurt you?"

"No,
nothing like that." She pulled loose from his grip. "Look, I don't
want to talk about it, okay? My parents are dead and buried—"

"Ah."

He
said it like he'd figured it all out. Psychoanalyst Remy Begnaud had discovered
what made her tick. Good for him, because she had yet to figure it out.

"Did
they have a bad marriage?" he pressed, and she cursed his training as an
interrogator. The tone of his voice, so level, measured, was meant to lull her
into thinking she could share and that he would understand. "Did one of
them cheat?"

"Cheat?"
She barked out a bitter laugh. "My parents had a very loving relationship.
Unfortunately, that love didn't extend to me."

"They
didn't love you?" He sat up, grasped her arms and pulled her back against
his chest.

"They
did." She wiggled to escape the intimate hold, but when his fingers began
to knead the tightness out of her shoulder muscles, she softened up like cookie
dough. He had a way of doing that to her, and she was starting to like it, damn
him.