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Harley inhaled deeply. He watched her breast rise and fall beneath the V-line of her shirt. His mouth watered but he held his control. A breeze whipped through the air, searing the mango scent of her hair into his memory. Without thinking, Dante leaned forward and down, brushing his lips against hers. For a mom
ent he thought he’d made a mistake but her lips parted to adjust to his. She stepped on the door to lift herself to accommodate his height. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered. Wanting to savor the flavor, Dante wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into his arms. Elbows rested on his shoulders, her dainty fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. She exhaled, he breathed. They moved as one, mirrored each other. Their tongues danced, swirled. Someone broke the kiss, a yell, a seagull squawk, or something. Dante’s hands loosened.
“Can you move now?” Harley snapped.
Reluctance pierced his heart but he let her go and watched her run off with her friends. The boat her friend spoke of could be better described as a yacht—a one hundred-fifty foot yacht complete with a decked out crew waiting for them to board.
“What did that lady say she did for a living?” Roman asked coming beside him.
“She didn’t,” Dante leaned against the door, willing Harley to look back once more before she boarded. “But something tells me they haven’t been truthful.”
“Time to call Tito and find out what the real reading on the scan said.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Dante hummed and saluted Harley when she turned one last time to look at him before going below deck.
Chapter 7
Steam circled the air around her. Harley wrapped the towel around her bare breasts a little tighter before stepping out of the luxury bathroom aboard the Cofresí. The pirate-namesake ship, which now sailed somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, held four and a half bathrooms in its five-bedroom suite. Hannah insisted on sleeping in Tai’s master suite, which Tai—with no family of her own—eagerly accepted. Harley hadn’t been so eager to let an interrogation go, but Tai said she knew what she was doing. Her crew of eight prepared a meal for the guests and hung out on deck talking, swapping sailor stories. After Harley’s second beer, she was ready to call it a day. She’d been up since before the sun and sleep began to creep in.
The queen-sized bed called her name but Harley insisted on taking a shower first. She needed to wash the days’ events off her skin—not just the incident with Christopher Alfaro or the near death experience she almost had when Hannah disappeared, but she needed to shake off Dante Rossi’s touch. No one had been able to fill her life with such excitement in almost twenty years. Back then her excitement came from a boy buying her a piragua and sharing a seat on the beachfront pier’s Ferris wheel. Today their lives had been on the line and even with the guns blazing at them, Harley hadn’t experienced that kind of exhilaration with another man.
What amazed her more was the amount of steam coming off her body considering she barely used any of the hot water. She needed the cold to wash away the pangs of wanting him again. What was she? A sex addict. Was it even possible to be addicted to someone after one night?
“You’re crazy, Tomasello,” she mumbled, opening the door by its silver handle. Her eyes glanced over the counter where she left a fresh change of clothes on the sink counter in front of the mirror. The tube of toothpaste she laid near the sink fell to the plush deep maroon carpet. She bent over, legs straight, back flat, and stretched her legs while she picked up the tube. Her muscles stilled ached but it was a good ache. She smiled on her way up.
The smile froze at the sudden reflection behind her in the mirror. Dante stood behind her, his arms by his side, but no mistaking the gun holster strapped on top of his fitted black shirt to his bulging muscles on his shoulders. Harley blinked, in case she was hallucinating. Black utility boots covered his feet and black jeans encased his thick thighs. Even in the dark there was no mistaking the bulge between his legs. How many beers had she had?
In case this was a hallucination, Harley spun around to face him. He stood so close, the friction between them caused her towel to drop. Not forgetting her nakedness she leapt into his arms. His bulky arms crushed against her frame. She unfastened the snaps of his holster at the nape of his neck and let his weapons hit the floor. Wet hands snaked beneath the fabric of his black T-shirt, feathering her fingertips up his abdominal muscles while he backed her up to the counter. The cold marble froze her ass against the contrast of her warm crotch steaming with anticipation.
“What are you doing here?” she said through a stream of kisses against his bearding throat.
“I had to see you again,” he whispered, returning the kisses along her forehead. His large hands cupped her cheeks. “I needed this.”
A breath choked her lungs when his hand caressed gently down her face, between her breastbone, to the soft cushion of her belly, and into the forest. Her spine straightened when his fingers found her nest.
“How’d you find me?”
“I am always going to know where to find you,” he dipped a finger into her flesh, “I can’t explain it.”
“You’re uh, FBI-spidey senses brought you here?” She stared at him. One brow rose knowing the next thing to come out of his mouth would be a lie. But considering the fact she was going along with her own lie to him, how important was his version of the truth when the man could kiss like the devil.
Dante surprised her and turned her on at the same time with a lazy lopsided grin instead of an answer.
“You could have been shot trying to board.”
“The crew is drunk, very careless,” he replied with a shrug. “Given the fact they can’t protect you or your niece, I have every right to be here.”
Goosebumps prevailed against her better judgment. “I can take care of myself.”
“Mmhm,” he hummed, squatting like an umpire in front of her. With his hands covering most of her upper thigh, he used his thumbs to coax her legs open.
The mirror chilled her back and the subconscious fat of the back of her thigh moved across the marble. A warm tongue darted in and spread her lips apart. Harley took in a sharp gasp of air. His broad shoulders became a resting spot for the back of her knees. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“Why debate? We’ve got nothing but time to kill.”
Harley gave in to the desire rising from the pit of her belly. For such a big man his kisses and tongue knew how to guide through her with such delicacy. He feasted on her like a hungry man with a peach. Harley’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She gripped the faucets on either side to control her orgasm. How in the hell was he so magical? The right side of her eye began to twitch with the swirl of his tongue. Her toes popped and the back of her knees curled against his shoulders. When the first wave hit her, Dante swiftly pulled her off the counter. Dazed from the racking orgasm, she did not realize what was happening until another wave rocked her body. The counter where she sat was now warm against her belly. Dante entered her from behind full tilt, his cock filled her and her walls hugged him tight so he felt every quiver of her next orgasm. He pulled out giving her a moment to catch her breath, and then thrust forward. His arm dipped down and caught her right leg while his left pressed against the curve of her lower back, and dipped his knees for further penetration.
“Oh my God!” Harley gave a breathless cry. She rolled her neck around and absorbed the pleasure. With her leg cradling in his hand, he worked her like a fine oiled machine. She squeezed, lowered her body, and tried everything she could to take control, but he held on. She liked it. When he lifted her other leg into his other hand using her body like a wheelbarrow, a flash of excitement and panic clamped down in her belly. Roars accompanied his climax.
