Chapter 9 Heat
Heat
Marigold eased into the lodge’s sauna with a sigh that bordered on ecstasy. It was getting dark again, and she hadn’t been able to find the men, so she decided to use her unchaperoned time for a little more pampering and self-care.
They didn’t seem to care what she was up to anyway. She couldn’t find a single trace of them, and, despite her photogenic taunting, she was starting to get worried something was wrong.
What if they changed their mind and decided to report her? Maybe they were with the police right now. Her nerves jangled at the thought.
She tried to guess if Ash could touch her like that and then betray her so easily. Maybe he already had. Perhaps that was why he’d never returned.
But Stone had come, and he’d been respectful and patient. Then Hunter. He wasn’t someone who radiated manners, but he also didn’t lay a hand on her.
She was being ridiculous and working herself up for nothing. She should be reveling in her privacy and grateful they left her alone. Though she was never truly alone. Her gaze drifted to the wall where another bear watched her.
Were they watching her now? Questioning her motives as much as she questioned theirs?
Heat enveloped her like an embrace, drawing out the last of her body’s tension.
Muscles loosened like liquid heat as steam rose from heated stones, filling the cedar-lined chamber with humidity that made her skin glow like polished ivory.
She loosened the sheet twisted around her neck and stretched her neck.
The door opened with a soft hiss of escaping steam, and she opened her eyes, her pulse quickening at the sight of Stone wrapped in nothing but a towel.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, as he settled on the bench across from her with fluid grace.
His broad chest and wide shoulders radiated controlled danger.
Ropes of sinew twisted up his arms and sides.
He was a chiseled work of art with a body that could literally kill.
She couldn’t help but stare at the lean muscle of his torso, the way condensation already beaded on his golden skin like scattered diamonds.
His green eyes tracked a drop of sweat that rolled slowly down her throat. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Do you want me to go?”
A staying hand pressed to her knee. “You’re welcome to use the grotto as much as anyone else.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
His generous tone surprised her. “Do you share your house often?”
He met her stare. “What we share is conditional. Everything here is ours. Including you.” His gaze dropped to her breasts where that rolling drop had disappeared. “But you’re not to be shared.”
She looked at him in stunned confusion and he caught his slip.
“I mean, shared between anyone but us.”
The possessive words should have triggered her flight response. Instead, they sent molten heat pooling low in her belly like liquid fire. He been so distant the last time he visited her, or maybe that was just Stone. Precise. Calculated. Intentional.
“I’ll be sure to ask permission before assuming in the future.”
He frowned at her tone. “If there’s something you need, we’ll provide it.”
She scoffed. “Clothing would be nice.”
“Clothing isn’t necessary for your purpose here.”
Her molars locked. Her purpose. She wanted to punch him, though she’d probably only end up hurting her hand. As if sensing her urge, he smirked.
Her eyes narrowed. “You seem pleased with yourself.”
“I have no complaints at the moment.” He studied her for a long moment. “I was watching you again, this afternoon, as you explored.”
“I figured.”
“You tried every door but the front one.”
She stilled, feeling guilty for a rule she didn’t break and stupid for overlooking the most obvious escape from her captivity. “The storm—”
“Yes, snow can be quite treacherous for those not used to it, but that’s not my point. Most people would have tried to run by now.”
“Where would I go?”
“Exactly.” His smile was sharp as arctic wind.
He stood, ladling water over the stones with practiced ease. The hiss of steam filled the small space, making the air even more oppressive. As the room fogged, giving everything a dreamlike feel. Rather than return to the bench across from her, he settled onto the bench beside her.
“You don’t have to pretend with us.” His fingers traced the line of her collarbone, following the path of moisture down to where the dark sheet tucked between her breasts.
“You don’t have to be perfect either.” He hooked his finger and tugged, loosening the fabric.
“Don’t have to be polite. Don’t have to smile when you want to scream. ”
“Why would I scream,” she whispered.
“Not all screams are borne of terror.” His hand cupped her face, thumb brushing across her lower lip with possessive gentleness. “Do you know what I enjoyed most about watching you last night?”
She shook her head as she stared into his emerald eyes.
“You weren’t performing. This afternoon, you were different.”
That was because she knew they were watching. They were always watching.
“I bet you’ve been performing your whole life. Playing a role someone else wrote for you.”
She blinked rapidly, wondering why he’d make such a statement. Was she really that transparent. “Until recently.”
“Ah,” he pulled the sheet open. “I’m guessing that’s when life changed. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“How?” Dew gathered on her warm skin, gathering and trailing down her body in a slow race with gravity. He leaned closer, licking up a drop that gathered by her collarbone. “I’m very good at uncovering secrets, little rabbit. All kinds of secrets.”
As he leaned in to taste the salt on her fevered skin, his groan rumbled through her like distant thunder. He pressed her back to the warm cedar bench. Without invitation, he cupped her breasts in his large hands and kissed her.
It was nothing like Ash’s kiss. Stone kissed like he was claiming territory, marking what belonged to him with absolute certainty. His mouth devoured hers with demanding strokes of his tongue, unforgivingly challenging her until she found herself responding with equal hunger.
The sheet fell away, but she was beyond caring about modesty. Stone’s hands mapped her body with clinical precision, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. When she arched against him, gasping his name like a prayer, his laugh was dark with satisfaction.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her throat, his voice rough with desire and dominance. “Let go. Stop thinking. Just feel.”
He shifted to kneel on the planked floor as steam swirled around them. He pressed her knees open, burying his face between her legs.
One deep lick and he groaned with masculine satisfaction. “I knew you’d be sweet like honey.”
She gasped as his tongue darted into her, circling and teasing. Slick sweat coated her body as the heat made her dizzy. They were cocooned in a haze of swirling desire, so thick and drugging she stopped calculating consequences and surrendered to pure sensation.
Stone broke down her walls with methodical skill.
Every gasp stole her senses. The heat of the small cedar room made it impossible to catch her breath.
And the more she panted the less she could think—of reasons she should push him away, reasons why he was her enemy.
It was as if the steam and his talented mouth were working together to put her under some sort of spell.
He didn’t back off until she was boneless and shaking in his arms, wrung out and shaking with tremors from her intense release. He cradled her against his hard chest as they lay tangled together on the cedar bench.
“Note to self,” he said as he stroked her shoulder. “You stop pretending when you climax.”
“How do you know? Maybe I was faking—Ouch!” He pinched her ass.
“That was not faking. A man knows.”
“They all say that.”
“I know.”
Strangely, she believed him. She didn’t think she could fool Stone. He was too observant and too thorough. He was also very good with his tongue.
“We’ve been in here too long.”
She was feeling a little more breathless than usual, but she assumed that was the result of her orgasm.
“Come.” He eased her up and unlatched the door. “I want to take care of those feet—” His words cut off as Hunter rounded the corner.
She shifted behind Stone to hide her nudity. How had she forgotten the dangers of this place so quickly?
Hunter’s expression wasn’t one of arousal or satisfaction. There was something cold and calculating in his amber eyes, something that made the blood freeze in her veins.
“Hunter,” Stone said in warning, drawing his glaring eyes away from Marigold. “Did you need something?” Stone’s tone held an edge of challenge.
“We have intel.”
Stone reached a hand behind his back as if to assure her she was safe. “We can discuss it later.”
“We will discuss it now.”
His gaze fixed on her with predatory intensity. “Facial recognition is a wonderful thing.”
Marigold tensed. They had her picture from the surveillance cameras. They could have found anything. Panic rose inside of her. This was it. This was where everything fell apart.
“She’s connected to an old friend of ours.” Hunter’s grin was feral as his eyes locked on hers with laser focus. “Someone who has a score to settle.”