Chapter 2
The cave walls crowd in as I skirt the water’s edge to move deeper, climbing wet rocks. I only have about three hours before the tide comes in and all of this will be submerged. But I’m prepared. Mini scuba kit strapped to my back, plus tools for digging and three flashlights in my dry bag.
Ocearus probably wasn’t down in this cave, of course.
But tucked away like this, the remnants of a civilization might still remain untouched.
All I have to do is find an arrowhead, a pot, some coin dropped by a teen climbing the rocks after their mom told them not to…
anything. All I need is one piece of proof, and then Dr. Anderson will have to listen to me.
Water breaks on a choppy shoreline of rock, entombed in darkness. That’s where I’ll start.
I probably shouldn’t be out here alone, but what choice do I have? Anger floods my chest when I remember how dismissive Dean Anderson was of my proposal.
I can’t wait to knock that man off his high horse, even if he looks damn sexy up there.
He’s the picture of professionalism while he’s on campus, always dressed in slacks, pairing it with a blazer or one of those stuffy sweater-vests.
But in the field, he dresses more casually.
I had the pleasure of seeing it for myself when I was an intern on a dig last summer, just after graduating with my masters.
That’s when I first noticed the breadth of his shoulders, the way t-shirts cling to his pecs.
Once, when he didn’t think anyone was looking, he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
I nearly went into heat on the spot when I caught an eyeful of tan skin covered in a smattering of dark hair.
A thick line of it disappearing into his waistband, like a guide to what has to be a magnificent cock.
I shouldn’t think about the dean of my department like that, but something about the taboo of it makes it even hotter. Even if I’m infuriated with the man at the moment.
A noise from the other side of the cave has me swinging around, and I nearly scream when my helmet light illuminates something that doesn’t belong.
There’s a man sitting at the back of the cave, away from the water.
A naked man. A very attractive naked man.
Apart from the gold bands decorating his blue hair, he’s not wearing a lick of clothing.
His skin is so pale it’s almost translucent under the light.
His toned abs flex as he sucks in a breath, and I blink multiple times, taken aback by his unexpected appearance. What is he doing here? And like that?
My cheeks burn as his eyes lock with mine, the look so intense I feel as if I’m under a microscope. His gaze travels the length of my body. Heat suffuses my skin as if his stare is a tangible thing. He stands, but wobbles and falls over.
“Are you okay?” I gasp, stumbling across the rocks to where he’s curled in on himself. There’s a gash on his leg from where he must have cut it on a rock when he fell. “Shit. Okay, I’ve got some first aid supplies.”
He doesn’t respond. I touch his shoulder, and he flinches. I raise my palms. “It’s alright. I’m just going to bandage this up, okay?”
His head tilts to the side, and I take the fact that he’s not moving away as a good sign. I pull out some rubbing alcohol and a bandage. Good thing I came prepared for anything. Though I never could have predicted I’d be in a situation like this.
“It’s gonna sting,” I warn.
The moment the alcohol hits his cut, he makes the strangest sound I’ve ever heard, and I have to cover my ears.
It’s halfway between the chirp of a dolphin and the rolling vowel sounds of a whale.
I understand it hurts, but I’ve never seen anyone react so strongly to rubbing alcohol.
Definitely never heard anyone make a noise like that.
When he closes his mouth, we eye each other warily. His lean, muscular form tenses like he’s poised to pounce. I hold up the bandage. “This will help.”
Before he can back away, I grab his leg, then slap the bandage over the cut. He jerks like he expects it to hurt, but relaxes quickly when it doesn’t.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
No answer. Clearly, this man needs help. I guess my solo excavation project will have to wait.
“Come on.” I stand up and offer him my hand.
I’m not sure he notices, because he’s staring at my hideous water shoes with a slack jaw and wide eyes. “Yeah, I know they’re ugly, but I need them to protect my feet.”
He grips my ankle. The touch is light, but firm.
Goosebumps lift along my legs, but it’s the look of awe on his face that has me shivering.
For the first time, his scent hits me. Fresh air and sunshine—neither of which should really have a scent, but that’s what he smells like.
Freedom and warmth and joy. With a salty finish and something sweet. What is that?
I was so focused on helping him, and the rubbing alcohol stinging my nose, that I didn’t notice right away.
Now, all I know is his scent. It warms me like late afternoon sun and makes me drowsy like alcohol.
Oh, that’s what it is. He smells like a margarita, enjoyed with my toes in the sand and wind in my hair.
Alpha. My alpha. Scent match. Mine.
A flood of arousal hits me so hard and fast I nearly stumble. My hand goes to the cavern wall for support, but my head feels fuzzy and light.
From his knees, he trails my calf with his palm, a mesmerized expression on his face.
His nostrils flare as his touch moves higher, smoothing over the outside of my thigh, fingertips dipping under the hem of my shorts.
Each inch he touches feels as if it bursts into flames.
My clothes suddenly feel too tight and itchy.
My insides ache in a familiar way that should be impossible.
“No. No.” I’m on suppressants. But I know what this is, and I know the only thing that will help. I moan, leaning back against the wall as his hand moves high enough under my shorts to feel my slick soaked core.
I should yell at him, scold him, storm off after such impertinence. Instead, I watch as he brings his drenched fingers to his lips and sucks. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, and I feel it all the way in my soul.
The omega in me preens and begs. Alpha. Mine. Knot. Bite. Bite. Bite.
Shit. I need to keep my head. This guy is clearly in trouble. He’s naked, doesn’t seem to speak a word of English. And I don’t know him. But… but… mine.
No. Nope. Need to move. I grab his hand before it can slide back up my leg and tug him to his feet.
He stumbles again, falling into me. Thankfully, I’m already half leaning against the wall of the cave, and it stops us from tumbling over.
His chest presses against mine. I suck in a breath, keenly aware that he’s naked.
His skin feels cool, my top low cut enough that he makes direct contact.
His hips shift closer as he settles on the uneven rocky ground, and his cock is suddenly pressed against my inner thigh, skin to skin.
My perfume blooms, flooding the space with the aroma of coconut and pineapple.
His eyes blow out, dark, and full of something ancient, a desire that goes back as far as humanity.
He drags his nose up the curve of my neck, and a whine slips past my lips. He smiles as his forefinger traces my mouth.
Need.
I’m pure need.
Need. And lust.
It’s so hot. Too hot.
Without thinking, I spread my legs. He flicks his tongue over my ear and grinds his hips against me.
I lick my lips, mouth dry and needy. I want to taste every inch of him. I don’t know what this is, but it feels right. Like all the suppressants and logic in the world couldn’t stop this.
I’m pure instinct as I grab his face and bring his lips to mine.
He tastes as salty and sweet as my favorite margarita.
I’m not sure if the salt tang is from the sea or is just his essence, but I lick the seam of his lips like I would the salt rim of the cocktail.
When he opens to me, my tongue delves into the recesses of his mouth like it has a mind of its own.
Limes, tart and crisp, join the salt, all tempered by the sweetness of agave.
A strange noise rattles from his throat, almost like he’s trying to purr for the first time.
The sound makes something primal take over, and I move his cock between my legs, grinding against him, squeezing my thighs as he thrusts and rubs against my clit.
It soothes the ache, but ignites a new kind of fire.
My mind goes blank except for one thought. Mine. Mine mine mine mine mine.
As if he agrees, he bares his neck at the same time as I offer him mine. An invitation. Destiny. Heads tilted, we stare into each other’s eyes as our bodies move in perfect agreement. I see his approval, his longing, my own need mirrored in his gaze.
My body tenses, the heat concentrating at the base of my spine.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant, and he grunts.
As I’m overtaken by pleasure, I bite. He bites. We bite together, a perfect circuit. Finally. Complete. Whole.