Next To Die Page 18

  Penny headed to the door. Was that a subtle put-down? Maybe her helpfulness left him feeling obligated, trapped? Perhaps he preferred a woman who wasn’t observant enough to notice that the hors d’oeuvres were disappearing. Who cared about munchies anyway, as long as the sex was good?

  She yanked open the door with more force than necessary, nearly spilling the margarita in her other hand. Her breath congealed at the sight of Solomon McGuire standing on Joe’s doorstep with his hands plunged into his pockets. He wore a black turtleneck, no coat. His eyes seemed to slice straight through her.

  “You made it,” she said, with a sudden case of jitters.

  “I wanted to see you,” he replied.

  A thought occurred to Penny that made her knees wobble and her heart race. She didn’t have to be the only person not getting a piece of the action tonight. For whatever reason, Senior Chief McGuire was pursuing her. And he was handsome in a rugged, intense sort of way. After five long years of celibacy, she’d be an idiot to turn him down.

  Vinny had to break for air. He could hold his breath underwater for nearly two minutes, but he couldn’t kiss Lia against the front door and feed his starving lungs at the same time, because his heart was galloping. “Shit,” he muttered, a little alarmed by how badly he was shaking. He’d thought himself sexually experienced, but he’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted Ophelia Price. Her name was like a litany in his brain.

  “Take me upstairs,” Lia hinted.

  He scooped her into his arms, eliciting a squeal of surprise. Opting to keep the lights off, he took the steps two at a time. “Which way?” he asked as they neared the second floor. She was kissing his neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that utterly distracted him.

  “Across the hall.”

  He kicked the door open, stalked across the moonlit room, and tossed her onto the four-poster bed. Lia’s scream of laughter thrilled him. He stood there, struck by the depth of his need for her. Every inch of her inflamed him, from the dainty sandals that she kicked off her feet, to the opaque stockings encasing her slim legs, to the china-red silk that sheathed her from shoulder to thighs.

  With a sense of desperation, he knew that one hour would never be enough. Not even one year.

  Maybe not a lifetime.

  He clawed at his uniform, fumbling to release the buttons. He flung his jacket on the floor and yanked his T-shirt over his head. With eyes that glimmered in the moonlight, she watched him, heightening his urgency.

  He scrabbled with the laces of his boots, kicked them off, shucked off his pants and boxers, and then he was naked, praying that the planes of his body and the proud, flushed proof of his desire would be pleasing to her.

  She sat up to look at him. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, reaching out to touch him. “You’re so . . .” Her soft hands slid from his pectorals to his hips. She brushed her fingers lightly over the head of his cock. “Unbelievably beautiful.”

  He’d never been called beautiful before, but the compliment bolstered his confidence. If he could be the youngest SEAL to make the teams, he could make Ophelia his.

  The thought fragmented into a thousand pieces when she bent her head and put her lips around him.

  Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, he did not want to think about how she’d gotten so good at that. Swear to God, he could feel her tonsils.

  It was fear that made him pull away. He wanted this to be unlike any experience she’d ever had.

  Slow down.

  But the textures that greeted him—the silk of her dress, the satin heat of her skin, the coyness of her darting tongue—brought on sensory overload. Taking the dress off her proved impossible. He managed to unzip it, to pull the sleeves down her arms, so that it bunched just below her belly button ring. Groping under her skirt, he encountered pantyhose and shredded them. “Sorry,” he said, but he wasn’t, especially when he realized she wore nothing underneath. “You are so damn naughty,” he muttered.

  The scent of her, the memory of her responsiveness the last time, was just too much. He jerked her to the edge of the bed, and like a fifteen-year-old behind a car steering wheel, put the pedal to the metal, pressing all the way to the floor.

  She let out a cry that managed to penetrate his haze of lust. “Did I hurt you?” he asked with remorse.

  “No!” She writhed against him. “Do it again!”

  Those were the words he’d used on her in the lighthouse. His lust doubled. “Don’t worry.” He intended to do it again. And again. And again.

  Only he needed to put on a condom first. “Oh, shit! Wait,” he begged. Somehow he found the willpower to pull out of her.

  It took several seconds to get his pants right-side-out in order to find the pocket that the condom was in. He covered himself with hands that shook, distracted by Lia’s impatient little noises.

  Finally, he was protected. Vinny threw himself on top of her. She was already spreading her thighs, lifting her hips. He was buried inside her in less than a second, lust pounding through him, making him less than gentle.

  The antique bed creaked. Lia was louder, urging him to go harder, faster, deeper. He clung to his composure by a thread.

  She whispered something in his ear, and the thread completely snapped.

  Oh, no. Vinny fought to keep a lid on the geyser that rushed up to overtake him. Not yet. But he couldn’t stop himself. She was just too hot, too eager, too fucking beautiful.

  The minute the waves of ecstasy ceased their crashing, he lifted his head to apologize. But instead of looking dismayed, he found her wearing the dreamiest smile imaginable. “That was amazing,” she murmured. “Fast, but amazing.”

  Vinny tingled. Her words had an instantaneous effect on him. He gave an experimental thrust. Oh, yes, he was still plenty geared up and good to go. “Let’s do it again,” he suggested, “only slower this time.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I feel serious?”

  “Oh, my God.” She gaped at him in wonder. “You can really do it more than once?”

  “With you, I could do it all night,” he swore. And he knew it was true, except he had only one hour.

  She seemed to remember that fact in the same instant he did. A look of regret replaced her wonder, and then she was reaching for him, pulling him down for a soul-searching kiss.

  If I die tonight, Vinny thought, surrendering to bliss, I will surely die a happy man.

  Lounging in Joe’s hot tub under a string of colorful lanterns, Penny thought of the time her father’d taken her fishing out in the Chesapeake Bay. The bluefish she’d hooked weighed almost as much as she did. She’d needed her father’s help to reel it in.

  Daddy wasn’t alive to help her right now. And the fish she’d snagged on her latest lure was the size of a shark.

  Oh, help, cried the part of her that was still sober. Solomon McGuire was showing her how long he could hold his breath underwater, but that wasn’t the only thing he was doing.

  He was nibbling his way up her bare legs, starting with her toes. She wasn’t ordinarily ticklish, but the rasp of his moustache had her clutching the sides of the hot tub to keep from jumping out of her skin. She felt especially susceptible in the itty-bitty hot-pink bikini Ophelia had insisted she borrow.

  Why was Solomon moving this fast? One minute they’d been talking about constellations, bringing back memories of an astronomy course she’d taken in college, and the next he was telling her he could breathe underwater.

  Of course, she’d scoffed at that, and he’d had to prove it. Before she knew it, he was nibbling her toes under the water, making her giggle and squirm. He’d held her fast. He’d moved to her ankles, then her calves. Now he was licking the undersides of her knees, which at first made her laugh. But then laughter subsided into panting, because the message was absolutely clear. He intended to devour her.

  She wanted that, too, didn’t she?

  Half of her insisted that she did. If she couldn’t learn to be more spontaneous a
nd sensual, like her sister was, she might never find a man to share her life with. The stimulating jets of water and the memory of Joe’s kiss both compelled her to release her inhibitions.

  Okay, Solomon wasn’t Joe. But he was a man, and he knew just what to do to get her worked up. Every nerve in her legs, from her toes up, was tingling. His brand of foreplay was as unique as the man was himself, but she wanted the experience of being desired, pursued, completed in the most elemental way.

  If Joe wouldn’t give her that, then Solomon would.

  Thankfully, he came up for air, breaching the water’s surface with stealth that made her feel more like his prey than a prospective lover.

  “I guess you can breathe underwater,” she marveled, her voice sounding thin and high.

  “I cheated,” he admitted. “I sucked air out of the jets.” He moved in closer, closer, closer. Unable to sustain the force of his unblinking gaze, Penny shut her eyes and submitted to his kiss.

  Oh, dear. It was more of an invasion than a kiss. He locked his mouth over hers and dove in, demanding acquiescence, stealing her solitude.

  With a gasp of astonishment, she hung on tight. His shoulders were made for that. She marveled how she could feel utterly secure and so vulnerable at the same time.

  He pulled her toward the center of the tub, forcing her to relinquish her hold on the sides. She had nothing now to cling to but his dense body. Like a giant octopus, he wrapped his arms around her. The sensations washing through her were unsettling but intoxicating. He pinched her nipples, and she gasped at the sparks that shot toward her womb. Her thighs quivered. She could sense his tumescence, close but not quite touching. It both intimidated and enthralled her.

  A flicker at the windows caught her eye. With a self-conscious gasp, Penny realized Joe was watching. Regret collided with recklessness, and it was a heady combination, given the alcohol she’d imbibed earlier.

  Unsure and unwilling to question her motivations, she rose partway out of the water, just enough to put her breasts even with Solomon’s mouth. He nipped her, as she knew he would, through the fabric of her swimsuit.

  Joe turned abruptly from the window.

  With a stab of regret, Penny realized that what she really wanted was to be rescued, before it was too late.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Party’s over,” Joe said to his former teammate, Todd Hadley. “Help me get everyone out of the house.”

  Todd shot him a disbelieving look. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No,” said Joe. The scar on his cheek felt like it was burning. His face was hot. His temper was raging.

  The lens of inebriation fell from Todd’s eyes. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “It’s personal,” said Joe, who had not the slightest clue as to why he was furious. Penny was enjoying herself in his hot tub with his new senior chief. So what? Big deal. He’d introduced her to four or five guys himself tonight.

  But his blood pressure soared. “I need everyone out of here in two minutes.” Because, from what he’d seen, Penny was going to be eaten alive in under five. He didn’t need anyone witnessing a potentially ugly scene between him and his new most senior enlisted.

  Todd gestured toward Leslie, who was showing off her best side while pretending to shoot pool. “What about her?”

  “Everyone,” Joe repeated. Thankfully his new XO, Lieutenant Renault, had left half an hour ago, or he’d think Joe was crazy.

  “Whatever, man,” said Todd with a look of deep concern. “But you owe me an explanation. Listen up, people,” he added, raising his voice to be heard over the techno music. “The party’s moving to my house. Joe just got a call from the office. He’s gotta go to work.”

  Perfect, thought Joe, grateful for Todd’s ability to mobilize and direct. “Thanks for coming,” he called, backing toward the stairs. “I gotta change and go.”

  “Let’s move,” he heard Todd call out.

  “Joe, wait!” Leslie cried.

  Pausing on the bottom step, Joe watched her breasts jiggle as she hurried to catch up to him. Professing profoundest disappointment, she clung to his collar and pouted.

  Joe muttered a cliché about success and responsibility. Dodging her kiss, he gave her a quick hug and retreated to his bedroom, where he paced back and forth, waiting for his guests to leave.

  Am I drunk? he wondered, thinking back on the number of beers he’d had. Only three. So he wasn’t drunk. Not enough to explain the urge to pummel McGuire into the ground—not that such a feat was even possible. The man wasn’t as tall as Joe, but he was built like a bull, with a hard edge to his character that made him a dangerous enemy.

  Joe paused at the window. Perverse curiosity got the better of him. He bent the blinds to peer out on his deck. What he saw made his temples throb. Senior Chief McGuire’s hands were underneath the water. Penny’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Her eyes were closed; she was biting her lower lip.

  The blind snapped back into place. Joe clenched his hands and then unfurled them. He wondered what was so wrong with the scene outside that he’d had to chase his guests out of his house. He could hear the last few leaving now.

  “Clear!” Todd shouted, shutting the door.

  Joe counted to twenty. Digging deep for a semblance of calm, he left his bedroom, went straight to the back door, and stepped out onto the patio, slamming the door shut to announce his presence.

  Penny sprang out of Solomon’s arms like a clown out of a jack-in-the-box. The senior chief turned his silvery gaze on Joe, noted his rigid stance, and smiled cynically.

  “Everyone’s gone home,” said Joe, stepping close enough to see the scrap of a swimsuit Penny wore beneath the water. Her face was the same hot pink.

  He depressed the buttons on the side of the tub, silencing the jets and extinguishing the lights to afford her some belated modesty. Still, the lanterns strung overhead kept her chagrin illuminated. Her gaze darted from him to Solomon and back again as she picked up on the tension between the two men.

  “It’s time for you to leave,” Joe said to his senior chief.

  “As you wish, sir.” Solomon rose from the tub like Poseidon, still shamelessly aroused. Water streamed over his powerful torso, glinting like rivers of mercury as he swung his feet to the deck. He reached for the towel and briskly rubbed himself. All the while, his mouth remained quirked in that sardonic smile.

  Tossing the towel aside, he scooped up his carefully folded clothing. “Is there a back gate?” he asked

  “Yes, there is,” said Joe, tipping his head. “That way.”

  “Good night, sir. Ma’am.”

  “Good night,” Penny murmured. Her eyes followed him as he marched off the deck into Joe’s yard wearing nothing but the black briefs he’d gone into the tub with.

  Not a word was spoken until the gate clicked shut.

  Penny whipped her head around. “I can’t believe you were so rude to him!” she cried, pushing to her feet to stand up. Even in the shadows, Joe could make out her nipples. Stiff from the cold or from the senior chief’s fondling? he wondered.

  “Having sex in my hot tub is rude,” he countered.

  His words kept her mute for a full three seconds. “And why is that?” she demanded on a saucy note, “Because you weren’t the one doing it?”

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he shot back, ignoring her argument. He tossed her a dry towel as she clambered out of the tub, but not before glimpsing her sleek bare thighs. Solomon had been caressing them, he thought with a pang of regret.

  “I can’t believe you are lecturing me,” Penny marveled, tossing the towel over her shoulders. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

  He put a hand to his scar, which was still burning him. “Come on, Penny. Can’t you see that the man’s just using you for sex?” he snapped.

  She gave a short laugh, looked at him, and then threw back her head and guffawed.

  Infuriated, Joe stood there, grinding his tee
th.

  “Perfect,” Penny added, her laughter curtailing abruptly. She sent him a fulminating look. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. Thanks a lot.”

  She marched into the cabana and slammed the door behind her, locking it intentionally. The light came on, followed by the shower. Steam poured out of the vents up by the ceiling.

  What the hell? Had she just accused him of not wanting her?

  Stunned, Joe mulled over the accusation. It might have been true at one time, but now that he’d gotten to know her better, of course he wanted her. She was amazing. The only reason he hadn’t stolen more than a kiss the other night was because he respected her, obviously more than she respected herself.

  He stalked to the shower house door and pounded on it.

  “What?” she demanded, obviously still spitting mad.

  “Who the hell said I didn’t want you?” he demanded.

  “I can’t hear you,” she called back.

  That had to be a lie. She could hear him just fine. Too bad for her, a locked door was not a deterrent, not when the key was sitting on the lintel right over his head. He snatched it up and let himself in.

  Startled by his abrupt entrance, Penny backed to the far side of the shower spray. Given the dimensions of the cabana, she was just out of arm’s reach.

  The single bulb overhead revealed that she’d removed the bikini she’d been wearing. She stood there, back to the wall, perfectly naked, her female form flecked in water droplets, cringing from the cold air he’d let in.

  Joe shut the door. The pressure in his head rushed straight to his groin, making him suddenly, painfully aroused. She looked beautiful.

  “The problem with the senior chief,” he articulated gutturally, “is that the man doesn’t respect women.”

  “Oh, and you do,” she retorted, pushing off the wall to prop her hands on her hips. She looked magnificent like that.

  “Yes, I do,” he growled, distracted by her pert little breasts. His palms itched to touch them.