Chapter Four #3
“I still sleep with a window open,” he admitted. Being within the prison walls had been a horrible experience in every way, but night had brought the horrors of finding his mother and brother rushing back. There was no escape, and he’d taken it as his due, given what had landed him there.
She didn’t respond right away, and he got the feeling she was weighing her thoughts. “I sleep with a night-light on and music playing,” she finally said. “I know it sounds silly, but it’s not because I’m afraid of the dark. I just don’t like being alone at night.”
“That’s not silly.” He knew all too well how isolation could fuck with a person’s head. He moved closer, trailing his fingers up to her shoulder, their legs touching beneath the water as they danced around what they both wanted. “Nighttime can mess with people.”
“Not everyone. My sister lived alone for years, and she never minded it.”
“Maybe she said that so you wouldn’t know she was scared.”
“I don’t think so. And it’s not just her. I’ve met a lot of people—a lot of women—who live alone and aren’t bothered by it.”
She had a lot of worries stemming from other people’s views, and even after only a few hours, it bothered him that anyone could make her question her own feelings. Protective urges he hadn’t felt in years rose to the surface.
“You shouldn’t compare yourself to anyone else,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear, the damp ends sticking to her shoulder. Steam rose around them, their breath tangling. “Every aspect of our lives isn’t meant to be a competition.”
“Yeah, well, I’m very competitive,” she said with conviction, as if she had something to prove.
She was adorable and so damn determined to show her strength, he wondered why she needed to. “I know you are.”
“How do you know?”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Your snow-bunny comment gave it away.”
She smiled, her cheeks flushing. “I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t. It was sexy as hell.” Their gazes held, and he slid his hand up her leg, gripping her hip. Her eyes flamed, and she made a nearly imperceptible needy sound. He was aching to kiss her, to touch her, but he didn’t want to rush her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“How much I want to kiss you.”
Her mouth curved into a sinful smile. “And?”
“And I’m running out of reasons not to.”
She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with desire, her voice soft and husky. “Then do it.”
He crushed his mouth to hers, fierce and devouring.
He wanted to taste and touch all of her at once.
He told himself to slow down, but she was so fucking eager, kissing him back with the same intensity, meeting every stroke of his tongue with one of her own.
Their hands slid greedily over each other’s bodies.
He pushed a hand into her hair, angling her mouth beneath his, taking their kisses deeper.
She moaned, and fuck, the hungry sound vibrated through him.
She tore her mouth away, whispering feverishly, “I’ve been dying for you to do that all night.”
“I didn’t want to rush you.”
“Rush me, Ragnar,” she pleaded.
He hauled her against him, reclaiming her luscious mouth, sending water splashing over the side.
He tangled his hands in her hair, his tongue plunging deeper, fucking her mouth the way he wanted to fuck her glorious body.
They rocked and gyrated, her soft curves sliding against his hard frame, making him ache for more.
He tugged her head back and sealed his mouth over her neck, kissing and sucking, earning one breathy moan after another. He palmed her breast, teasing her nipple through her bra, then slid his hand down her stomach, teasing her through her panties.
“Yes,” slipped greedily from her lips.
Taking her in another merciless kiss, he pushed his hand into her panties, his fingers sliding through her slickness.
“So fucking wet for me,” he growled against her lips.
He reclaimed her mouth, dipping two fingers into her tight heat.
They both moaned. He crooked his fingers, finding the secret spot that had her gasping short, quick breaths.
He brought his thumb to her clit, and her head fell back with another moan.
“Give me your mouth,” he demanded, and she eagerly complied.
She rode his fingers, kissing him like she needed him to survive, her nails digging into his shoulders as he took her right up to the edge of release—and held her there until she was quivering and whimpering. “Ragnar, please,” shot desperately from her lips.
Fisting his hand in her hair, he tugged her mouth back to his and quickened his efforts.
He could feel her orgasm building in the tension in her body, the hitching of her breath.
Tearing his mouth away, he sank his teeth into the base of her neck, and she shattered, crying out into the night, her body pulsing around his fingers.
Her moans and gasps mixed with his curses at the sheer pleasure of watching her come.
As she came down from the high, he kissed her again, softer, more sensually.
“God,” she panted out against his lips. “I needed that.”
They both laughed, and then they were kissing again, their heat burning through their amusement, turning to more greedy sounds. Crew’s fingers found the hook on her bra, and just as her hungry eyes met his, the deck was flooded with bright, unforgiving light.
Her eyes widened as the patio door opened, and an older man stepped outside, confusion and anger riddling his brow. “What the hell is going on out here?”
“Oh shit!” Trouble said. “Wrong cabin! Sorry!” She sent water splashing onto the deck as she scrambled out of the hot tub, shoved her feet into her boots, and fumbled into her jacket.
Realizing what she’d done, Crew was right behind her, freezing his ass off, pulling on his boots and jacket. He scooped up the rest of their clothes. “Sorry, man,” he hollered as they sprinted away from the cabin.
They bolted to the path, boots slipping, laughter tearing loose. “This way!” she shouted, darting through the trees, her colorful jacket a beacon in the night, as she ran toward another cabin.
“Is this one really yours?” he asked as she ran up to the front door.
“Yes!” She punched a code into the security pad and threw the door open, yanking him inside, bright eyed, wild haired, and pink cheeked. “That was exhilarating!” she said through chattering teeth and started pulling off her boots. “You can put that stuff on the table.”
She was exhilarating, breathing new life into a world that had been dulled for decades.
His heart raced, his cheeks hurt from smiling, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt anything like this.
He set their clothes on the table by the door, wrestling with his conscience as he tugged off his jacket and boots.
She was fucking amazing, but his life was a mess.
He should leave his damn boots on and get out of there before he was in too deep.
But she was so damn happy, it radiated off her like the heat still thrumming between them despite the cold, and something he barely recognized cut through his constant self-monitoring.
Happiness. There was no better feeling, and that was because of her.
He put his boots on the mat by the door and found her watching him with lustful eyes, drinking him in even as she shivered in her underwear and jacket.
Fuck it.
He’d figure out his shit tomorrow, find a way to do what he had to, and once that was done, he’d tell her the truth and hope she didn’t run the other way. He pulled her into his arms, holding her sweet curves against his bare skin, warming her with his body. “You really are trouble.”
She burrowed closer. “Not bad trouble, though, right?”
“The jury’s still out. How about next time you clue me in on your scheme before making me an accessory to a crime?”
She grinned up at him, her lips slightly purple. “Okay.”
“Good, because there’s only one kind of Trouble I want to get into tonight.” He lowered his lips to hers, and she rose onto her toes, meeting him in a deep, passionate kiss.