Wild: Whispering Cove, Book 1 (9 page)

“Too many clothes.” His hands slid up farther, dragging her shirt over her head.

She wore no bra and her nipples drew taut against the cool air.

“I love your breasts.” Leaning into her, he took a peak into his hot mouth and suckled.

Liquid heat filled her globes to near bursting. As he tantalized one nipple with his kiss, a thumb and index pinched the other, sending electrical pulses through them, shooting south to dampen her panties.

Andrea cried out at the exquisite sensation, squirming to assuage the need building between her thighs. “Brody,” she breathed his name. “I need you inside me.”

His eyes gleamed up at her, heavy-lidded, dark with lust. He released the hold he had on her and smoothed his palms down her ribcage toward the small of her back. When his hands disappeared beneath her waistband and cupped her ass another wave of desire tightened her belly.

Her pussy contracted, making her breath catch, and a whimper pushed from her parted lips. “Now, Brody.”

Her sweats fell around her ankles and she stepped out of them. Naked and ready.

“Kneel on the couch with your back to me,” he instructed.

Anxiety whispered through her, but she did as he asked. Andrea was so lightheaded that she had to grasp the back of the couch to steady herself. “Brody?” She swallowed hard, glancing over her shoulder.

He watched her through bedroom eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “I need to fuck you more than I need to breathe right now.”

His ardor was overwhelming, leaving her drowning for his touch.

Slowly, he closed the distance between them. Pressing his hips to hers, he thrust his cock, sliding across her moist folds. Her fingers dug into the couch. Her pussy squeezed, demanding he take her now.

Still looking over a shoulder, Andrea saw him ease back. His fingers closed around his cock. The image of him touching himself was so hot she felt like screaming. Then he positioned himself at her entrance. When he thrust again, he slid inside her, filling and consuming her with decadent pleasure.

“Wet.” Brody pulled back, gliding easily into her. “So fuckin’ wet.”

He rocked slow and steady. Each of his strokes was tinder on the flame that burned within her. Sparks ignited across her skin.

“Please…” she whimpered, desperation driving her now.

“Please what, baby?”

“Fuck me hard—fast.” Just the naughty words coming out of her mouth sent her desire soaring. She couldn’t bear the need, twisting and churning, seeking release.

A growl vibrated in his throat. He slammed his hips into her with a force that sent sweet pain splintering in her sex. Strong, powerful strokes invaded her again and again.

He wasn’t fucking her, he was claiming her.

“You’re mine. Say it, Andie.”

Andrea couldn’t think with Brody buried so deep in her body, penetrating her with a heat that stole the last of her ability to reason.

“Yes,” she yelled, turning away from him to lean her forehead on the back of the couch. “God, yes.”

His strangled growl made her push against him, driving him deeper. Brody held their bodies together and ground his hips, touching areas Andrea didn’t know existed. Dropping one hand between her thighs, he found her swollen clit, stroking slow and easy. The walls of her sex closed around him and then she shattered.

Andrea threw back her head. A scream ripped from her lungs. The bittersweet climax tore across her senses. A conflagration of heat threatened to burn her alive as her body became one big pulse.

Brody’s fingers bit into her hips.
“Andie.”
He jerked against her.

Fire lanced her pussy. Hot jets of semen caused a series of spasms to erupt before triggering another harder, deeper orgasm. Andrea groaned from the pure pleasure, uncontrollable contractions shaking her to the core.

The next thing she became aware of was sitting in Brody’s lap. His strong arms wrapped around her.

“Oh my God.” Andrea snuggled into his warmth. “I don’t remember it ever being quite so earth-shattering.”

Warm, rich laughter flowed over her. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

“Oh, the hell you have.” Andrea bit him playfully on the shoulder.

“Ouch. You jest while my pride has taken a severe blow.” His palm smoothed down her back. “If you will allow it, Miss Adair, I do believe I can perform even better in a bed with a silk rope or a pair of handcuffs.”

“Really?” Her shock was overcome by the realization that she missed moments like these that she and Brody had once shared.

His roguish grin made her heart flip-flop. He nodded, rising so that both of them stood face-to-face. Slapping her sharply on the ass, he turned and ran for the stairs. “Last one to bed is a rotten egg.”

A second of doubt crept into her mind, but she shoved it aside and headed for the stairs.

Tonight was her night—and Andrea planned to make the most of it.

Chapter Seven

Brody woke to the sensation of his body spooned against a warm woman. Inhaling Andie’s scent, he nuzzled her neck, careful not to wake her. He couldn’t help bathing in the glow from last evening. It had been magical loving her all night long. He tightened his grip around her waist and released a long, deep, audible breath.

This was how life should be. Him. Andie. Together.

Yet even as he lay with the woman he loved, Brody was no fool. Last night he had won the battle, but not the war. Andie carried demons from her past. Until she faced them—vanquished them—his hope of winning her over was just a dream.

“Brody?”

For a second he didn’t know whether she murmured his name in her sleep or if he had disturbed her.

“What time is it?” she groaned in a drowsy voice that made him smile.

Locating that sensitive spot behind her ear, he laved it with his tongue before answering. “Eight. Too early to get up.” It was Sunday and he had the day off. His plan was simple. Spend every minute with Andie, preferably in bed.

She stretched her long, sleek body, rolling over onto her back. Her eyelids were heavy, slits of blue shown beneath them. A thoroughly sated, sexy expression softened her face.

“I need to check on Grandpa.”

Tossing a leg over hers, he pinned her to the bed. “And I need to hold you a little longer.” Easing his hips so they crossed hers, he leaned in and kissed her.

Her eyes widened with the feel of his morning erection hard against her belly. “Brody, you’re insatiable.”

“Only with you, baby.” And Lord, it was true.

Using a knee, he wedged her legs apart and slipped between them. Their eyes met and she smiled, sending his heart reeling.

Man. He loved this woman.

His cock nudged her entrance, finding her moist, eager. But then Andie had always been hot and ready for him. When he slid inside, filled her completely, both of them simultaneously sighed. The slow, steady rhythm their bodies moved in was exactly how he had envisioned waking each morning.

Then a door slammed.

They went deathly still. Several people started talking.

Andie jammed her palms against his chest. She angled her head, listening intently. “Oh my God. It’s Errol, Byron…” Her eyes widened. “And Grandpa.” Pushing at his shoulders, she attempted to wiggle free. “Hurry. Get off me.”

Brody eased back, leaving the warmth of her body, hissing in discomfort. His dick was not happy and harder than hell.

Throwing back the covers, she sprang to her feet. Naked and in all her glory, she slid across the waxed floor, disappearing into the closet. When she returned she had a long, silky robe on and was heading for the door.

Reluctantly, Brody climbed off the bed. After he located his uniform and shoes, he dressed. Several of the buttons were missing from his shirt. He’d have to find them later. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked in the mirror above the dresser. “This will have to do.”

By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, the heavy aroma of coffee caught his attention. He could use a cup.

When he entered the kitchen, Andie was all aflutter, pacing the floor. She only stopped to narrow her steely glare on her grandfather. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“No need, lassie. Errol and Byron sprung me.” The old man grinned impishly.

“Sprung you?” Her voice pitched. “Don’t tell me you left the hospital without the doctor releasing you?” Throwing her hands into the air, she huffed. “God, I don’t believe you.”

“Ease down, lassie. Dr. Dani gave me the thumbs up.”

Andie turned her pique toward Byron who sat beside her grandfather at the table. “Is that true?”

The large man cringed beneath her scrutiny. “Yes, Andie.”

Brody moved to the sink to assist Errol with the coffee he had poured into five mugs. When Brody placed a cup before Harold, the elderly man grinned at him, and then at the gun holstered at his waist.

“Did you have to use your weapon or handcuffs to persuade my granddaughter to allow you to stay last night?”

Brody took a seat across from Harold. “Nah. I used my charm.”

Andie threw her hands into the air, again. “
Arghhh…
All four of you are incorrigible.” She stomped from the kitchen.

“What did I do?” Errol asked, grabbing his cane as if it were an afterthought, before he hobbled toward the table, two cups of coffee in his other hand.

“Nothing,” Brody assured Errol. “She’s just worried.” He picked up his coffee and blew the steam away. “So, did Dr. Dani really give you her okay?” As he sipped the rich brew, the hot liquid soothed his parched throat.

“Aye, she did.” Harold took a drink and then attached his gaze on Brody. “Did you convince me granddaughter to stay?”

“Harold, you and I both know Andie plans to return to California.” That was the truth and it pained Brody to admit it.

“But you be working on it, right?”

Brody looked over his coffee cup, a grin touching his lips. “Yes, sir. I’m working on it.”

“That’s a good lad. It would warm the cockles of me heart to have the lassie back home where she belongs.”

Errol stood staring out the kitchen window. “Looks like the storm blew by us.” Then he took a seat at the table.

For a moment the four men drank coffee and talked about the weather. It wasn’t long before Andie joined them. Dressed in jeans, a thin cotton top and tennis shoes, she moved behind her grandfather, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her hair fell neatly around her shoulders. She must have washed her ire away with a shower, because she smelled of soap and a light perfume.

“So what can I do for you, Grandpa? Are you hungry?”

“Not a thing, lassie. I ate before I left the hospital. You and Brody do whatever it be you kids do.”

Brody liked that idea. In fact, he liked it a lot.

Andie rested her palms on the old man’s shoulders. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Harold cast a glance back at her. “Errol is here to keep me company. Byron’s taking off to meet his grandson for lunch. You remember Braydon?”

“Yes. But—”

“No use arguing with him, Andie.” Errol rose from his chair, carrying his mug to the coffeepot. “You’ll only ruffle his old tail feathers and he’ll end up back in the hospital.”

Byron nodded. “The scallywag has a point. Best be giving your cantankerous grandfather his way.”

Harold shot Byron a withering scowl. “I’m not cantankerous, just set in me ways.”

Andie shook her head. “So the three of you are running me out of the house?”

“It appears they are.” Brody pushed back his chair and rose. “Why don’t we take a jaunt around town? You can see the difference ten years makes.”

Andie rolled her eyes. “It looks like I don’t have a choice.”

“Great. I need a shower and change of clothes. I’ll be back in say forty-five minutes to pick you up.”

The smell of raw seafood hung heavy in the air along Fisherman’s Market. To the left of the street a stack of half-cylinder, wire-mesh lobster traps were stacked high. Most people didn’t know that by law each trap had to have a specified dimensional hole in the mesh to allow under-sized lobsters to escape the trap.

Andrea couldn’t help wondering where the hell that memory came from. Scanning the area, she was taken aback that nothing had really changed.

The bustling of tourists, locals and restaurant owners shopping for fresh catch to place on their menus made the market an interesting place. From fruits to steamed crabs and raw oysters, a shopper could get almost anything their heart desired.

Sure, some of the marquees had changed and everything had gotten a little more hi-tech, like the digital scales and packaging equipment used. But the rows of stores, vendors shouting at the top of their lungs trying to entice customers to their stands, remained the same.

Playful banter exchanged between Waters and Ruysdael. The two elderly gents were still battling ten years later about whose fish were fresher—that much hadn’t changed.

Andrea found herself feeling peaceful, happy. “I’d almost forgotten—” She snapped her mouth shut.