Drawing Deep (13 page)

Little good it did, as staring out over the darkened landscape only made her recall Santos taking off his shirt, and the desire she’d felt to slick her tongue all over his gleaming, hard torso.

A fine tremor went through her and it had nothing to do with the night breeze that ruffled her hair. Disgusted with herself, she stomped back in her room and shoved the unused cigarette back in its pack. A stray thought popped into her mind, one to contact Dax and inform him his special blend didn’t work as well as they had thought. But she’d do that later. Right now she needed to get out of this room.

She donned a light hoodie over her tank top, zipped the front. The loose sweatpants she wore didn’t have any pockets, so she tucked the key card to her room into her bra and headed out the door.

On the first floor she wandered; scanned the available books and movies in the library, fiddled a bit with a puzzle in the parlor, darts in the game room. The pool room was dark and empty. A car case scene complete with yelling, gun fire and loud crashes penetrated the door to the media room and she hurried past it. Company was not what she was after. In the kitchen came sounds of feminine laughter. Annie, Melinda and another female voice. Ria turned away.

She didn’t know what she wanted.

Her mouth twisted in a grimace, recognizing the lie for what it was. She
did
know what she wanted. She wanted Santos.

Finding herself in the foyer, she slipped out the front door, over the parking lot, skirted the driveway and bypassed a row of hedges. The bay wasn’t far. Her feet were nearly silent on the soft grass, her steps slowing as the light from the front of the house receded and the smell of the ocean increased.

She was almost upon him before she saw him by the shallow cliff. A dark silhouette against a silvery sheen of moonlit waters. The steps that had taken her unerringly to his location faltered, and he turned.

With the vast ocean and star-filled sky as his backdrop, Santos should have appeared smaller, diminished somehow, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed more impressive, larger, and unmistakeably masculine. Breathtaking. A deadly male predator, one who had pinpointed his prey and was now beholding that prey in silent anticipation as she hesitated, uncertain of the looming danger. Some trick of the flickering night sky put an odd glowing glint in his eyes, making them shine as they landed on her, snaring her.

Cat’s eyes.

It made her want to run. Every feminine instinct screamed for her to do so, and because she wanted to heed them, she took the last remaining steps that separated them, her heart battering against her ribcage.

Those fascinating eyes locked on hers for several moments before they dropped to her neck. Though the hoodie provided a decent amount of coverage over the bandage she still wore, it didn’t hid it all. Grooves formed on the sides of his mouth, his lips tightening in anger. When his gaze returned to hers, she saw the memory of her dazed and bloody appearance reflected in those dark depths.

A stiff gust of wind blew in from the bay and Santos shifted, sheltering her from the brunt of it. Lifting a hand, he brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead, his fingers continuing a journey along her temple, down over her cheek. “You have shadows in your eyes.”

It took a moment to respond as she fought the coiling lust. “I’m just concerned about the guys. Going to the bar tonight I mean.”

“Rome and Porter will look out for them.” Composed assurance.

“But if someone is out to kidnap – ”

The finger on her lips cut her off. “They will be fine.” That finger shaped her lips in infinite detail, his gaze lingering on their fullness. Then his head tilted a fraction and he dropped his hand. “Do you worry for one more than another?”

Confusion settled across her face. “That’s an odd question.”

“You and Lance seem close.”

Good Lord. Was he jealous?
“He’s a friend, so of course we’re close.” When his eyes narrowed she felt a spurt of laughter, and wisely held it in. “Since we travel a lot, forming lasting friendships outside of the team can be difficult. We have to rely on each other, trust each other and sometimes live with each other depending on where our search sends us. That’s not easily tolerated if there’s not a certain amount of trust and friendship.”

His eyes roamed over her face in an invisible caress that she could almost feel. “I would like you to think of me as a...friend.”

Her mouth went dry when he ended his offer by lowering his gaze to her lips. The beating of her heart suddenly felt too much for her chest to handle. Her voice was an unsteady whisper. “I don’t think friendship is what you have in mind.”

A firestorm flashed in his eyes. “Not all, but true none-the-less.” When she didn’t respond, he arched one brow. “The thought doesn’t appeal?”

She licked her lips, the darkness giving her courage to test what lay between them. “It appeals too much, and I think you just might be a dangerous man.”

Without seeming to move, he was suddenly right there, so close her breasts brushed his chest. She couldn’t stop her breath from quickening.

“Never to you.”

Then his mouth was on hers, a firm warmth that coaxed and demanded. His hand slid up to cup the back of her head, holding her to his exploration. He changed the angle of the kiss, parting his mouth and sending his tongue on a moist journey along the seam of her lips. A silent and sensual request for acceptance. Relishing the way his body heat seeped into her own, she laid her hands on his chest and, with a sigh, opened to him, taking his taste, one of dark, untamed male, and the soft intrusion of his tongue, deep inside.

He shifted impossibly closer, curving one hand low on her back, fingers spread wide and inflexible so that she felt branded through her clothing. The rigid length of his arousal pressed against her pelvis, feeding feminine satisfaction even as her body responded with another rush of damp need.

A low groan emerged from his throat when he drew back only so far as to lay his mouth on the right side of her neck, nuzzling her skin in a way that sent a quick shiver arrowing down her spine. “You ache, kitten. Let me help you.”

Tilting her head to give him better access, she luxuriated in the wet softness on a part of her body that was so sensitive. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His dark chuckle was followed by the scrape of his teeth along the rapid pulse on her neck. “A much lower ache, kitten.” His tongue slicked over the little hollow at the base of her throat, the hand at the back of her head inched down along her shoulder and skimmed over her breast. “Here.” Then lower still, stroking over her ribcage, her hip, holding her in place as his thumb brushed her mound. “And here.”

She jerked at the intimate touch. “The cameras.” It wasn’t a rejection.

“Don’t reach this far.” His eyes were half-hooded. “It’s just you and me out here.” His mouth was back on hers, destroying all reasoning why this was a bad idea with the clever play of his tongue and teeth. “Let me.”

If he wanted to pleasure her, who was she to argue? Her capitulation slipped easily past her lips in a raspy hiss. “Yes.”

Letting out a harsh breath, as if he had been holding it while she made her choice, he unzipped her jacket, but instead of removing it, he left it hanging open. Trailing one finger over the graceful line of her collarbone, he nudged aside the straps of her bra and tank top when they got in his way, along with the flimsy material of her hoodie, until they all slipped off her shoulder.

Eyes on his pilgrimage, he continued that tortuously slow journey down and over the soft curve of her upper breast, dipped in the damp valley made by her bra, over the top of her neglected breast, and up to push all the material off her other shoulder.

Then his lips were on her flesh, sucking and nibbling at the skin he’d bared.

With a moan, Ria’s head fell back. Santos used his lips on the same path his finger had. One hand slipped under her clothes, high on her back, the other curved over her butt, raising her slightly as he wedged a muscled thigh between hers. Open-mouthed kisses covered her chest, moving steadily closer to her aching breasts. Her own hands found their way into his hair, stripping the binding that held his thick mane in a tail, and plunged deep. She tried to urge him faster, to cover her breast before she screamed in frustration, but he would have none of that.

Taking his time, he licked her skin, teasing her by dipping his tongue past the edge of her bra and flick all to briefly on the tight nipple that yearned for more. An avalanche of tiny explosions sent every inch of her skin into vibrations. If she had any thoughts left, it would be that her bones had gone into meltdown. Then that teasing tongue licked the tip of her other nipple, and his whole body came to a sudden halt.

She found she did have a thought left after all, one of retribution at his blasted teasing. Her hands fisted in his hair, taking a few strands with it.

“What’s this?” His breath heated over moist flesh, making her shiver anew. She felt a pulling sensation on the side of her breast and then his head came up, her key card caught between his teeth.

She blinked. Flushed. “Oh.”

He took it from his mouth, pocketed it. “It was in my way.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then get back on your way.”

His grin was a provocative thing. “As you wish.”

The hand on her back flicked her bra open with the ease of an experienced seducer. His other ready to catch her breast the second it was free from the straining confines. His mouth was back on hers for a devouring kiss, all tongue and teeth and wicked wetness as his fingers plucked and rubbed the pouting tip. “That what you want, kitten? Or you want more?”

A soft moan of need. “More.”

His groan was thick. “Thank God.” Bending her back slightly, he finally – finally! – latched onto the swollen pout of her nipple with his mouth, sending shock waves through her system. He sucked hard enough to leave a love bruise, and she gloried in it.

His other hand coasted over her quivering belly, down further to slid unhindered beneath the material of her sweatpants and panties, and cupped her sex. “So hot,” he murmured against skin damp from his lips and tongue. One broad finger slipped over tight curls and through her folds to caress the clenching entrance to her body. “So wonderfully wet.”

Dipping that finger in, he gathered her juices, rubbed lightly over the throbbing tip of her clit. Breath coming in ragged gasps, and feeling she was about to explode in a whoosh of heat, she squirmed her hips, trying for a harder touch. That only got her a few teasing circles as he harvested more of her desire.

She was in a submissive position, draped over his arm as she was, vulnerable to his greater strength and sexual prowess. But there was one thing common to all men that she knew would spur them on. Reaching awkwardly across her body, she wedged her hand between them, managing to spread her own fingers over the turgid length of his cock.

His choke of surprise gave her a surge of power. “Sneaky witch.” Then his tongue thrust in her mouth as his finger thrust deep into her body. Trusting him to keep her from falling, she kissed him back with everything she had, riding that blunt invasion as she stroked the blatant evidence of his own arousal.

Abruptly he pulled his mouth from hers with a sharp, “Too much.” A blur of movement and she found herself facing the ocean, Santos at her back. His mouth was at her ear, his words a low growl of sensual heat that made her muscles contract and shake. “I want to make you come. Feel your release soak my hand.”

His finger penetrated delicate flesh, the tip caressing a patch of tissue that was turning her knees into putty. Her breasts were bared to the chilled air while an inferno raged inside. She wrapped one hand around the thick wrist that lay on her mound, the other wound up and tunneled through the soft strands on his head, her fingers digging into his scalp, as if he were a lifeline and she sinking. And sinking she was. Sinking into dark bliss. Then he added a second finger to the erotic onslaught. Widening her stance, she bucked against him, her ass rubbing against his straining erection.

He nipped her ear, licked the little hurt. “I want my cock here. Feel you ride it as you’re riding my fingers.” He continued to pluck her nipple, sending currents of sensation straight to her loins. The tension in her belly tightened to near painful intensity, the ache growing exponentially as she rolled her hips on those clever fingers, tiny inner muscles squeezing with desperate need.

Behind her, Santos cursed. “Yes. Fuck my fingers, kitten.” She impaled herself again and again, any thought or inhibition about what they were doing in the open air long gone. Nothing existed but the firm press of his palm on the hard knot of nerves at the apex of her thighs, how his curled fingers rubbed over sensitized flesh, each stroke making her burn hotter and hotter. Her heart thundered in her ears, her breath ragged pants.

Almost. Almost. There!

She rose to her toes when she shattered, her spine arching as pleasure crashed over her in an almost brutal cascade until she finally fell back, limp, replete.

Boneless.

The sigh of contentment she let out was caught by the hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew open and she raised her hand to touch his.

“As much as I want to hear your cries of pleasure, they are for my ears only.” A very male, very smug comment that preceded the brush of his mouth on her temple.

If she hadn’t felt so relaxed, she might have blushed. “I didn’t.”

“Hmm.” Another warm press of his lips, this time curved in a satisfied smile. “If you say so.”

Her eyes narrowed at his tone. She’d had orgasms before and never once had she cried out. Then again, she’d been so lost in all the wonderfully wicked things he’d been doing she wouldn’t have known if she even breathed. This orgasm had been so strong, her back still vibrated.

Her back vibrated?

She froze until she realized those tiny tremors originated from Santos, not her. And it was accompanied by a low rumbling sound.

Oh my God! Was he purring?

It took a moment to get her legs steady, another to comprehend that he still had an intimate hold on her. This time she did blush. “Ah, you’re, ah.” Just how was supposed to tell him?