Taken (26 page)

“The rest is being shipped at the end of the week.” I reach out and hug him. I can’t help it. I’m so happy to be going back and he’s the first tangible part of the island that I’ve had contact with in weeks.

Merrick went back two weeks ago. He stayed in Cleveland until my mom got back from the cruise. He wanted to be there to meet her and help me tell her I was leaving, moving to Florida.

She refused to come with me, refused to leave her home, but she’ll stay for extended visits. I promised the best room in the hotel would always be hers. She wasn’t happy about me moving away, but before I left, she told me not to worry about her and that she was proud of me.

Shannon shocked me by announcing she was moving in with Seth. She said what he has between his legs is too good for him not to know what to do with it. So she’s planning to teach him. Her relationships always burn bright white, hot as the sun, then blaze out just as quickly. I hope this one lasts.

Beck puts a hand on my head, like always, making sure I bend down enough under the propellers. He helps me up and in the helicopter and buckles my restraints. When he’s seated beside me and we both have our headphones on, he turns to me and winks. “Joan works for me now, not Merrick.”

My shock has to show on my face. You didn’t tell me you’d reassigned her. “She does?”

“She does. And I plan to keep her in line and very busy, but only with me.” Beck shoots me a meaningful look.

“You and Joan? Really?”

“Stranger things have happened.” He laughs and lifts us off the ground.

I wonder if he knows about us, about our
stranger thing
that happened.

I see you standing in the clearing waving before we land. I wish I had a parachute. I can’t get on the ground quick enough.

When Beck touches down, my fingers are already pulling at the restraints. Beck reaches over to help, lifting the headphones off of me. “Go to him!” he yells when he frees the last buckle. “Go!”

I jump out and run while crouched over until I’m out from under the blades. You’re running toward me and scoop me up over your shoulder when you reach me. We spin around in circles, laughing. Then you slide my body down yours and take my face in your hands before kissing me, sweetly, deeply, thoroughly.

“My God, I’ve missed you Rachael.” You wrap me in your arms and press my head against your chest.

“I’ve missed you too.” I can’t keep still and squirm away enough to take your hands. “I can’t wait any longer to see the hotel!”

You smile with those dimples I’m addicted to. “Are you sure it’s me you missed?”

I run my hand up the front of your shirt. “I’ll show you how much as soon as you get me somewhere private.”

“I know just the place.”

You take my hand and lead me into the trees. I know where we’re headed. Our secret spot. “The tree house?”

“The tree house.” Your thumb strokes the top of my hand as we hike over brambles and fallen branches.

A brick patio comes into view lined with dozens of tiki torches. A wooden staircase with rope railings climbs up from the far end. “Merrick?” I rush forward. At the top of the stairs, a wraparound deck is filled with colorful flowers vining down over the sides in cascades of green leaves. The tree house has been completely rebuilt. A miniature A-frame house sits nestled in the limbs, the entire front is encased in glass windows. “It’s like a fairy-tale house.”

Your arms wrap around my waist from behind. “You like it then?”

I spin and gaze up into your dark eyes. “I love it. I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”

“I’ll never be able to give you enough.” You kiss me softly and lead me to the stairs.

Up on the deck, the view of the island is the same as I remember from our picnic-that-wasn’t. Our star gazing night. “I can taste chocolate cake when I stand here,” I say, taking your finger and sliding the tip of it into my mouth.

You chuckle, and your eyes spark with desire. “I thought you might.” You slide a glass door open and pull me inside the house. The bottom floor is one large room with a hot tub in the center, a plush white sofa on one side and a mini-bar on the other.

Beside the hot tub, there’s a bottle of champagne chilling, two stemmed glasses and a chocolate cake with plump, red raspberries on top. “You never stop amazing me. Not for one second.” A spiral staircase runs up the right side to the second floor. “What’s up there?”

“The bedroom.”

I slip my fingers under the waistband of your jeans and unsnap them. “Perfect.”

With one quick tug, you have my sundress over my head and tossed to the floor. “Perfect,” you repeat, running your eyes over my body.

I kick off my shoes at the same time you unhook my bra and strip me of my lace panties. You reach for me, but I skitter away, over to the hot tub and step into the bubbles. “Repeat performance, Mr. Rocha?”

You tear your t-shirt over your head and push your jeans and boxer briefs off while you stride over to me. “I’m thinking something new is in order, Miss. DeSalvo.”

You step in beside me, but I don’t let you sit. I scoop a handful of chocolate frosting off of the cake and cover your hard cock from tip to root. “Chocolate’s never looked so appetizing.” I take you in my mouth and your groan is fire to my soul. I’ve missed hearing you lost in your desire for me.

Your hands come to my head. I look into your eyes and whisper, “Take it. Take me, Merrick.” You control our rhythm; my mouth and tongue absorb every thrust. When you speed and your hands grip and tangle in my hair, and you’re so close the air rasps from your throat, you pull out.

“I don’t want to waste it. I want to come inside you.” I’ve been on the pill for a couple weeks now.

You kneel and kiss and suck the chocolate from my lips, lick it off my tongue. Your fingers find my center and slip inside, rubbing and stroking. “You’re so wet already and not from the water.”

“Getting you off turns me on.”

You spin me around and pull me on your lap so we’re back to chest. I shift so the head of your cock is at my entrance. You lift your hips and push inside me. It’s heaven. I buck my hips to take you deeper, to feel you sliding in and out of me.

You hook your arms under my knees and glide us across the tub to the opposite wall. You guide me to where a jet shoots a hard stream of bubbles and rock me up and down so it massages my clit while you pump in and out of me.

“Oh my God,” I whimper, letting my head fall back on your shoulder. I want it to last forever, but the rush starts building and burning inside me, and I come fast and hard reaching up and gripping your hair.

“Jesus, Rachael,” you rasp. Your thrusts are harder and quicker and your body starts to shudder. You groan, and your cock throbs as my muscles clench around it. We’re holding on to each other so tight, we might never come apart.

Your forehead rests against the back of my neck and you pull me across the hot tub. We recover in each other’s arms, catching our breath and sharing feather-light kisses. “I have something to tell you,” I say.

You run your hand up and down my back. “What is it?”

“You asked me to tell you when this happens.” I smile. “Stockholm Syndrome. I’m falling in love with my captor, Merrick.”

You press me against you hard and kiss me like your life is dependent on taking every breath with me. “You were my captor long before I was yours,” you say, nuzzling against my cheek. “You captured my heart before I ever approached you.”

You stand and step out of the tub, holding out your hand to me. “Come up to bed with me.”

I take your hand and together, dripping wet, we pad up the spiral staircase to the bedroom. It’s all white walls, carpet and bedding with a king sized, mahogany poster bed in the very center. Sheer white drapes hang from the high bedposts.
 
You lie in the center of the bed and open your arms for me. “One more surprise.”

I climb on the bed and lie in your arms.

“Look up, you say, pointing to the ceiling.

I gaze up at the beam the runs the length of the ceiling where the slopes of the roof meet in the center. “Oh…” I cover my mouth with my hand and tears spring to my eyes.

Beside the etched letters A.W. plus I.B. with a heart around them is a fresh engraving, the letters M.R. plus R. D. surrounded by another heart.

I turn my gaze to you, meeting your deep, dark, blazing eyes. “You were right to bring me here. I am home.”

Rachael and Merrick’s story continues in:

No Take Backs

A Novella By Kelli Maine

Available now.

Continue reading for a sneak peek…

Chapter One

The sun beats down on us. It’s hot. Sauna hot. The kind that makes the air heavy and saturates your skin with a sheen of moisture.

I let my eyes roam over your tan, sculpted chest down to where your fingers thread together resting on your abs.

“Like what you see?” you ask. Smiling, you reach out and trace your finger along my cheek. I wish I could see your eyes behind your black sunglasses.

“You know I do.”

You chuckle and link your hands again, relaxing on your lounge chair.

The pool water ripples in the breeze, sunlight glinting off its surface. Pinkish-purple bougainvillea twines up to the palm frond roof of the pool-side bar.
 
How did we get here? Us together. I never thought it would come to this. There were so many obstacles between us.

Over the past few months, Turtle Tear has been transformed from ancient ruins to luxury resort on a private island in the Everglades. In the distance, the work crew bangs and saws, finishing the last few rooms in the hotel.

“Let’s cancel tomorrow,” you say. “I don’t want to share you.”

“We’ve waited too long for this.” Even though it’s only been about six months for me, you’ve waited years for this day to come. Tomorrow is the grand opening of Turtle Tear Resort to our friends and family. After that…well, I haven’t decided if I want to open it to the public, or keep it private. I guess I’m not ready to share this place or you with anyone else either. “After they’re all gone, you can become a hermit.”

You take my hand and kiss it. “At least you promised me we could stay in the tree house

and not crowd in the hotel with everyone else.”

I roll to my side and run a finger down your arm. “I love our little hideaway.”

Footsteps sound from the covered walkway. I sit up and turn to see Riley, your new assistant, step out from the shade and into the pool courtyard. “Why are you wearing dress pants and a tie?” I ask him. “Are you insane? It’s sweltering out here.”

You sit up, and your knees bump against mine. “Riley likes to look professional.” You grasp the left side of my red bikini top and tug it closed. “And you’re a little too casual. More like falling out.”

“No interest in sharing me with this assistant then?” I whisper.

You clench your jaw, but don’t reply. I was teasing, but struck a nerve bringing up the reason I left you last time.

“Ms. DeSalvo,” Riley interjects, spots of pink on his cheeks from either the heat or from overhearing my comment, “your mother and aunt are scheduled to arrive at ten a.m.. tomorrow morning. Do you have a preference of which rooms are reserved for them?”

I shade my eyes and glance up at him, wishing I hadn’t forgotten my sunglasses back in the hotel. “No. I’m sure you’ll pick very nice rooms for them. I trust your judgment. But can you do me a favor?”