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“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and then his mouth closed over hers.
Oh, the sweetness of him. He was gentle, yet she could feel the tension thrumming through him as he held himself back. He wanted more, but he was letting her take the lead.
And so, she did.
Reaching a hand around the back of his head, she let her fingers twine in all those glorious golden curls. Her mouth demanded more from him, and she shuddered as he ran a hand up beneath her shirt, grazing the skin on the small of her back. For a fleeting second, she remembered the young policewoman guarding their house. But she wouldn’t be able to see what was going on through the solid wooden door.
“Mm, you taste fresh, like a sexy nymph straight out of the garden.”
“Basil,” she said. “I ate some of the basil.” She laughed and nipped at the tip of his nose.
“I like it,” he murmured, claiming her mouth again, and she was lost in her lust for Nash. It was a deluge of longing. A liquid pull deep in her belly answered the passion in his kiss. Taking care not to bump his wounded thigh, she pushed him gently down onto the sofa, deciding to ignore the constable’s presence outside.
Nash lay along the length of the couch, head propped up on the armrest, eyes indigo-dark with longing as he stared up at her.
Her fingers found their way to the top button of his shirt. She’d already had more than a good look at his amazing abs, but this time she wanted to play with them, stroke them, run her fingers tantalizingly close to the waist of his jeans. Each button came undone with a flick of her fingers, revealing more of all that lovely, manly chest. Finally, the last one gave way, and she spread his shirt wide, just like she’d done the other morning in the jungle. But this time, her intentions were different. Nothonorable in the slightest. And from the hunger radiating from his gaze, Nash was completely on board with her thoughts.
She leaned down and used her tongue to explore the hard planes of his chest. Mm, just the right amount of muscle there, not overly pumped from excessive use of the gym. But firm and tanned, with a light sprinkling of blonde hair. On impulse, she licked each nipple in turn, then watched as they puckered in the cooling airstream from the air conditioner. He gasped, his eyes going almost black with heat.
“Woman, what are you trying to do to me?” he growled.
She wasn’t sure; all she knew was that she wanted to keep doing it.
Nash’s phone pinged from the coffee table with an incoming message. They both looked at it, then returned to what they were doing. Skylar found the top button of Nash’s pants and undid it slowly. He was wearing shorts today, a concession to his wounded thigh. But he hadn’t seemed to notice that he’d also exposed the scars on his lower legs. She’d caught a few of the locals staring at them in the supermarket, but Nash had either ignored them, or was perhaps too preoccupied with staying vigilant to notice. Whatever the reason, Skylar hoped this might be the beginning of Nash slowly coming to terms with his scars. They were part of him, and he shouldn’t have to hide them. Perhaps telling her about how he got them had been cathartic, in some way.
She’d ask him about it later. But right now, she was wondering if she could get those shorts off without hurting his wounded leg. With precise care, she slowly slid the zipper down, watching his face as she did so. His features, which were normally schooled into a genial half-smile, had lost all that professional veneer. His blue gaze bored into her, intense and full of a fire she’d never seen before. A barely veiled hungerevident in the slant of his mouth. His hands reached up to grab her hips and pull her closer.
Her phone, which was over on the kitchen countertop, pinged with a message, as well—her mother had brought her a new one while she’d been in hospital. Skylar lifted her head and glared at it with annoyance. Who the hell would be texting her now?
“Do you think—” Her words were cut off by a knock at the front door, which had her scrambling off the couch quicker than a mouse with a cat on its tail. Nash sat up swiftly and began doing up his shirt buttons, an unimpressed grimace on his face.
Skylar ran a hand through her hair to tidy it, but she knew she still looked disheveled. “Oh, ah…wait a sec. I’m coming,” she called. It could only be the young constable; she wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to come to the door unannounced.
Skylar drew in a deep breath and cracked the door open, keeping Nash, who was still doing up his buttons, out of sight.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Constable Schroder looked decidedly uncomfortable. Shit, she knew what she and Nash had been up to. Skylar felt color rising up her face, but kept her gaze fixed on the young woman, determined not to let embarrassment take over. “But there’s a man in the car over there,” Schroder pointed to the road and Skylar rolled her eyes, “who says he’s your brother, and is demanding to see you.”
It was indeed Dale, leaning out the window of his four-wheel-drive, making hand signals that were obviously meant to encourage her to convince the police officer to let him in.
“Yes, that’s my brother,” Skylar sighed. “You can let him in.”
“I’ll need to clear it with Senior Sergeant Robinson first.” The constable reached for the radio in her shoulder holster.
There went her and Nash’s little interlude out the window. “Dale’s coming,” she said to Nash, who was doing up the last button on his shirt and straightening his hair.
“That’s a shame, just when things were getting interesting,” he said with a wicked grin.
Yes, they had been. And who knew where it might’ve stopped, if Dale hadn’t decided to visit? But perhaps Dale’s interruption was a good thing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NASH STOOD UP from the couch, running his hand quickly through his hair. Would Skylar’s brother be able to tell what he’d been up to with his sister?
Too late to worry now, because the door swung open, and Constable Schroeder ushered Dale and Daisy through.
Schroeder shot him an unreadable glance, and said, “Robinson has agreed to this visit, but he doesn’t want any more unannounced family or friends arriving.” Then she shut the door firmly behind her. She was pissed at this break in procedure, but she was professional enough not to ream him out in front of Dale. She also probably knew what he and Skylar had been up to. He needed to get his game face back on. And stop being so unprofessional. The problem was, when Skylar was around, he seemed to lose all logical thought.
Dale strode over and wrapped Skylar in an embrace. “I needed to see for myself you were okay.”
