As if on command, he reached up under her shirt and released the bra clasp. He fondled her breasts, teased and kissed her mouth, his tongue sweeping over her teeth and plunging inside. He shifted his position and worked fast to pull her T-shirt over her head and her shorts down over her feet.
“It’s late, Jake. Not much time,” she said, but undid the zipper on his shorts and pushed them down, running a hand over the length of him, through his underwear. She went hot and slick at the thought of the raw energy between them. Her entire body pulsed with need and she raised her hips to meet him, finding a rhythm as she ground against him.
He groaned against her neck. “Slow down, Amy, slow down, for chrissakes.”
“I want you now, Turner. I don’t care about anything else, no foreplay, no nothing.”
“Amy!”
She tugged at his underwear. “Now, Turner! We don’t have long. Sarge will be here at about seven.”
“Protection,” he murmured. “My kit…in the bathroom.”
“My backpack.” She indicated the side of the bed, reached for the backpack and pulled out the foil package. She tossed it to him. “Turn on the radio and go for it, Turner.”
“Geez, Amy, I mean, don’t I get to warm you up a bit?”
“Trust me on this, Turner, I’m hotter than you can handle.” Amy laughed, and then her laughter trapped in her throat as his boxers went flying. Oh my. He was more than ready. The weight of him nestled at her entrance, and she moved closer, seeking his heat. “Hurry.”
He eased back a bit. “Mmmm,” he murmured, fingers sliding inside of her. “You are ready.”
“Told you, and we’re losing valuable time—”
“Shhh.” He caught her lips in a kiss, his tongue probing, and entered her slowly, holding himself still for one moment.
Heat filled her body, and she wanted him, needed for him to move, but she couldn’t say anything because his mouth had captured hers. She raised her hips and dug her fingers into his shoulders. He went deeper. Deeper still, and she thought she’d go crazy from need and then he began a slow delicious stroke, got steadily faster, steadily harder. She wrapped her legs up around him, allowing even deeper penetration. They found a rhythm instantly, like a well-practiced couple.
He finally released her mouth and nibbled at her collarbone. Their breaths were coming fast now and she felt her eyes go out of focus. Everything went hot and bright, and she moaned her pleasure. Heat radiated within, spreading throughout her abdomen, until finally she burst and shattered around him, panting and breathless, and oh so happy.
She was just coming out of the haze of her orgasm when she heard his groan and felt his release. He was so perfect, so wonderful. If a quickie could be this satisfying, she could only imagine what pleasures a night of love-making would bring. She ran her hands over his damp shoulders and over his back, wishing they could stay wrapped together like this for a little longer.
Jake rolled off her and wiped a hand over his face. He grinned. “Not bad.”
“Not bad at all.” Amy grinned back. They lay side by side, catching their breath, hands still roaming each other’s body, like they hadn’t quite had their fill of each other. They were gentle body strokes, strokes of wonderment.
There was a knock on the door.
“You go into the bathroom and get dressed as fast as you can,” Jake said.
“What about you?” Amy leaped off the bed, and using a few valuable seconds, straightened the covers.
Jake pulled on his plaid boxers and turned up the volume of the music. “My Sharona” blared out. There was another loud rap on their door. He stood on the bed playing air guitar for a few seconds, let out a giant “whoop” and a wink. He landed on the floor then headed for the door as he ran fingers through his hair.
“I’ll entertain them,” he said, and waved her away.
Amy stumbled into the bathroom, laughing at the sight and sound of staid Jake, and his rock and roll antics. She stared at her flushed face in the small mirror, and patted cold water on her burning skin. Being with Jake had been wonderful.
Was she wrong for doing this, for wanting him? Would sex distract him from focusing on the job? She fluffed her short hair, slid lipstick over her swollen lips and pressed them hard together. Emerging from the bathroom, she found their front door half open and Jake almost dressed. Sarge and Helen stood in the walkway, leaning against the railing and looking out over the rainforest, their backs to the room. Beside them she caught a glimpse of Kirstie.
“Give me one more sec,” Jake yelled, and brushed past her to hit the bathroom.
“No more bloody air guitar,” Sarge yelled back, and turned around to peer into the cabin. “And turn the music down.”
“Ah, come on, Grandpa, it was fun,” Kirstie said with a laugh. “Jake’s good at it.”
Amy laughed and turned off the music. She hurried to the back verandah to check the temperature, and then grabbed a light top. It was supposed to rain tonight.
“You’re lookin’ good,” Sarge said, giving her a quick once over. “You put make-up on or something?”
Yeah, it’s called the afterglow of sex.
Amy cleared her throat, “Yes, I figured what the heck, it might be the tropics, but I can dress up a bit.”
“We came to see if you still want to go over for dinner,” Sarge said, leaning against the doorway and eyeing her with interest.
“How’s your leg, Helen?” Amy asked dropping her eyes and peering around Sarge.
“Want to see the cast?” Helen turned and shoved her foot out.
Amy stepped out onto the walkway and saw the crutches leaning against the railing. “Oh, no, and crutches too. You poor thing.”
“It’s okay, really,” Helen said and smiled. “It’s not broken, but there are a couple of torn ligaments.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Yeah. He said the cast will stay on for six weeks.”
“We can bring dinner back for you, if you’d rather,” Amy said. Jake walked up behind her and put both hands on her shoulders.
“I’ll stay with you, Grandma, if you want,” Kirstie said.
Helen shifted her weight and tucked the crutches underneath her armpits. “Thanks, luv, but I’d rather go to the restaurant. I can’t sit in the bloody room and mope the whole time,” she said gruffly. “It just hurts more under the armpits from using the crutches, but I’ll get used to it.”
“That’s my girl,” Sarge said and kissed her on the forehead.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Helen said. “Wanta get your purse, Amy?”
“Don’t need one,” Amy said and patted her pocket. “Got a lipstick and a tissue, Jake has the keys, we’re good to go.”
“I’m starved, let’s go then. I could eat a horse,” Sarge said and hustled everyone down the covered pathway. Then he fell back a bit to help Helen navigate the steps.
****
Amy was seated in the restaurant, almost done with dinner, when she realized she’d left the slider to the verandah open. Jake sat opposite her. He was a stickler for safety, but she wouldn’t say anything because everyone was relaxed and having a good time. She’d be more careful in the future. Dessert menus were passed and the women ordered Pavlova. The men ordered another drink instead. Amy loved the chewy meringue with ice cream and passion fruit filling. About to dive in with her spoon, Jake silently begged, giving her big puppy dog eyes.
“What?” she asked, scooped up a spoonful and popped it in her mouth, and sighed loudly. “You want a taste?”
He nodded and raised his eyebrows.
“Damn. I hate it when guys do that, don’t you, Helen? They say they don’t want dessert then they eat half of yours.” She took another spoonful and stopped playing with Jake, the ice cream sitting like a huge glacier in the back of her mouth.
Across the room a man with lank dark hair sat down at a table, called the waitress over and ordered. He stared across the room at their table, and she froze, the dessert spoon still in her mouth. There was a flash of recognition, and his eyes roamed over Jake for a few seconds. He called the waitress, said something, threw his napkin on the table and left the dining room. Everyone at the table was staring at her. She swallowed hard.
“Amy, what’s the matter?” Jake asked and frowned.
She shook her head. Was she certain? Would there be a black jeep parked in the parking lot? She waved a hand in front of her mouth. She couldn’t say anything unless she was certain. Would she be willing to risk sharing her knowledge with Jake? She wanted to do so, but didn’t want to be wrong either. The derisive laughs and taunts of her brothers flooded her memory. “Amy always gets things wrong. Girls, they’re such screw-ups.”
“Brain freeze,” she said, once she could get her voice. “Hate when that happens.”
Everyone commiserated telling their own stories of similar happenings. Only Jake wasn’t buying it. Amy picked up her spoon and dug in. She offered him a bite of the confection. “Have a taste, it’s wonderful. It’s the Australian national dessert, right, Helen?”
Helen nodded. Jake opened his mouth and Amy popped the heavily laden spoon in. Then he took the spoon and licked it front and back.
“Well, if you’re going to do that, you can keep the spoon,” Amy said and rolled her eyes.
Kirstie broke into a fit of laughter. “You guys. With all the kissing and wrestling at the lagoon, I wouldn’t have thought a little spit would matter.”
Sarge raised his eyebrows and smirked at Jake. Jake ducked his head.
“Oh, do tell,” Helen said and smiled, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Do we have a
real
wedding on our hands?”
Amy felt a blush coming on. “No, no nothing like—”
“We were fooling around,” Jake muttered. “You know, role playing, trying to make it look good in case anyone was around.”
“What do you mean?” Kirstie asked. “Aren’t you guys married and having another wedding or something?”
Helen grimaced and glanced around the table in apology. She pressed her lips tight, realizing she’d slipped up. Amy felt sorry for her. Sarge’s eyes were wide. The senior Thompsons were in the kitchen, and Meg was on the other side of the room.
“It’s nothing Kirstie can’t handle,” Amy said softly. “She’s a smart girl.” Nobody else said anything, so Amy continued. “There’s something else going on here sweetie, but I’d rather talk about it in private. Like maybe back in the cabin.”
Kirstie nodded. Meg came across the room toward their table.
“Listen,” Amy said loudly. “I’m having way too much fun tonight. Let’s go back to our cabin, Jake. Is it okay if everyone stops in for a nightcap, or are you too tired?”
Jake cleared his throat. Helen kept her head down and finished off her dessert. Kirstie kept her eyes fixed on Jake.
“Sure,” he said with a quick smile. “I put a bottle of wine and some beer in the mini-fridge.”
“How was dinner?” Meg asked, drawing alongside the table.
“Fabulous,” Amy said, and smiled. “Right guys?”
Everyone nodded or murmured a compliment, and Meg went back into the kitchen.
“Where did you get the sodas and beer?” Sarge asked.
“Back of the jeep…those extra supplies, remember?”
Sarge nodded. “Ah, yeah, I’d forgotten, seems like such a long time ago.” He reached over and took Helen’s hand. “We’ve packed in some living the past few days. So, darl, tell them what you said about your old man being bald.”
Helen smiled. She ran a hand over his head. “Verrrry sexy.”
Kirstie rolled her eyes. “Oh, gawd…not you too.”
Everyone laughed. Jake called for the check and signed it to the cabin. He stood and slid his chair under the table. “Okay, let’s get this party started.”
Amy stalled for a moment. Meg was in the kitchen helping out, she quickly crossed the room. “What a fabulous dinner, Meg.”
Meg smiled. “Thank you.”
“We were down at the lagoon today. It’s a gorgeous spot.”
“It’s lovely there, isn’t it?” Meg asked. “I often walk down early in the morning.”
“Well, maybe we’ll see you tomorrow.”
She gave Meg a quick wave and turned around. Jake was near the door scowling. The other three were on the verandah talking to guests. She’d needed to go last, to check the parking lot for the black Jeep and she knew by talking with Meg it would annoy him. For some reason he wanted there to be no contact. Maybe he’d be so annoyed he’d walk ahead of her. Jake followed her outside and slid up alongside of her. The others had started toward the cabins.
“That was no brain freeze,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Can’t say here, but I’ll tell you later.”
He caught her wrist, and lowered his voice. “Did you see Firth?”
Amy shook her head and tried to twist away from him.
He held tight. “Don’t screw with me, Amy. Why did you talk with Meg?”
She broke free and walked away. “I’m going for a walk, see you later.”
Damn him.
He didn’t trust her. He’d just shown his true colors. All he wanted was to get his man, solve his case, and go back home for his big fat paycheck.
“Hey, what are ya’ doing girl?” Sarge called out.
Amy waved to him. “I’ll be back in five minutes. You guys go on ahead.”
She circled back toward the dining room then through the parking lot. Under a tree parked right next to Sarge’s truck was a black jeep with the first initials in the silver plate holder, CB. The vehicle was empty.
Her pulse quickened and she remembered the dark night in the alley behind the motel. She inhaled deeply a few times, and steadied herself by pressing both hands against the side of Sarge’s truck.
Oh God.
She gulped in some more air.
It is the same man
. The man was following her. Then who the heck was in the forest? Was it Firth? Panic gripped her and adrenaline coursed through her body. Her stomach churned with fear. What should she do? She was so panicked she didn’t hear anyone approach until a hand gripped her shoulder. She let out a shriek and spun around, only to find it was Jake.
“What’s up?”
“You scared the hell out of me.” Amy thumped him on the chest. “Don’t ever sneak up on me, Turner. Ever, you hear?” She thumped him again.
“Oh, no, we’re not starting that again. That’s how we met,” he said softly, gripping her hands and pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”