Chapter 11
“Now all we need to do is wait. The hard part,” Shana said.
Dane leaned in and, without a thought, as if it were the most natural, logical thing to do, he whispered in her ear. “I’ll show you the hard part. I can guarantee you I’ll make you forget all about waiting until midnight.”
She eyed him and for a beat he thought she was going to turn him down, to say no to him.
And for some reason, in spite of the dozens, maybe hundreds of times she’d turned him down, now he felt it meant something.
He needed her more than ever, craved holding her, craved that special intimacy that he had only with her, only when they were alone, making love.
He needed the emotional release more than the physical and it scared the shit out of him as his heart bumped around like a ping-pong ball in his chest.
She whispered back, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom after I help my mum tidy up.”
He straightened. His world straightened.
“We should rest before we go out.” Dane announced. He pointed to a room in the opposite direction of the master suite for Joe to use. There were three bedrooms in that wing, enough space for everyone.
Minutes later, walking around the enormous room naked, he thought about opening the blinds to see the drama of the darkening sky over the ocean.
He figured it would spike the excitement and he shut out the lights and went to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling the blinds open to the view of the purple sky over the sea.
Making himself stand still and chase all the thoughts and anxiety from his head, he readied himself for Shana, calming and exciting images swirling in his head. He didn’t have to wait long before he heard her open the door. He turned to her and she stopped to stare.
If he could have any picture of her to treasure for the rest of her life, it would be the face she showed him then, the stunned appreciation, love, and needy thrill that played over her shadowed features made his erection harden to its core.
Finding himself moving toward her, he watched as she lifted the sundress over her head.
When he reached her, he pulled the panties down her thighs, not bothering to resist trailing his fingers then his lips down her belly and to that tempting V between her thighs.
As she stepped from her panties, he held her thighs apart and pushed his face, his mouth and tongue into the hot folds, past the soft tufts and found the pulsing, sinfully wet nub.
“Dane.” She moaned his name softly as he flicked his tongue, then sucked hard, causing a river of aromatic moisture to flow from her. He felt her dig her fingers into his hair, holding him to her, urging her hips forward at the same time, wanton in her need for completion.
Holding her thighs, he moved his hands around to clutch her ass, to knead the round muscles, the smooth soft skin, to pull her pussy tight to his mouth.
His own need for release tightened in him, every muscle coiled as he opened his mouth on her and tasted the most satisfying liquid honey of desire he’d ever known.
His tongue lathed her long and slow, from one tip of her pulsing swollen folds to the other.
And at the top, the nub felt glossy and tasted hot, ready to explode as she writhed in his hands.
He kept her in place as she whimpered for release, wordlessly, helplessly, holding his head, stroking his hair and rocking her hips with passion’s abandon.
Flicking his tongue across her marble, she jolted, and then he nipped her with his teeth.
It was like biting into an explosion of sensation as he felt the melting liquid seep and her spasms pulse as her muscles convulsed.
She nearly collapsed as her legs gave out and he held onto her to keep her standing.
“Dane . . . love . . .” The words tore from her as if she were in pain, the extremities of ecstasy making her weak, causing her to fall apart as he watched and felt her, still with his mouth to her warm center, lathing her with calming and jolting strokes of his tongue until the spasms quieted.
When he stood, she pulled greedily at his face, slamming her mouth to his, pressing her body into him, bringing one hand down to hold his cock with a tight, breathtaking grip.
He feasted on her mouth, her face, kissing every part of it, laying claim to her, holding her tight against him with one hand clamped on her ass, trying to still her greedy hand, to make this last.
More than ready, he held onto his control as he murmured to her all those words, those sentiments that he couldn’t say any other time, though he meant them no less.
“I love you. You’re everything to me, beautiful lady, love of my life . . .”
He moved them to the bed, falling on top of her.
When he held himself above her, staring into her liquid green eyes, sated and hungry at the same time, she pulled him down onto her their moist bodies coming together, fitting skin-to-skin like they were meant to be this way, with no space, not even air, separating them.
Without a breath, the wanting drove him, scalding and desperate. He moved inside her, bringing them both to the edge until there was no turning back, until he had nothing left. Shuddering and shattering them both, he held her, held them both together as if it would be their end if he let go.
“Dane, I . . . am so in love with you, so desperately in love. Don’t let anything happen—” She lay impossibly tender kisses on his face with her rose-petal lips, tightening his chest with impossible tenderness, making his breathing come in gasps.
He held her face and captured her mouth with his, felt himself sliding from her as he turned them on their sides, still touching, clasped together like impossible-to-separate pieces of a puzzle.
“Don’t you worry about me,” he rasped. Meeting her eyes, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, then kissed her there, trailing his mouth to her ear, breathing deep and strong now, taking in her scent—the scent of them.
Gathering his strength, he separated himself from her, steeling himself against the shock of it, as if he was about to jump into the ocean in wintertime.
She clutched at him to keep their bodies together and he paused. The pleading, pained look in her eyes nearly undid him, nearly sent him back inside her when he had no more time.
“Shana, love. I have to go. I promise you I’ll be back. No matter what.”
“Unscathed. Untouched,” she said, demanding rather than asking.
He watched her eyes harden as he lifted himself away, watched her acceptance transform to determination, changing everything about her.
Changing her from the warm, passionate, vulnerable woman he’d made love to into the woman warrior he would marry and spend his life admiring and loving and honoring.
He stood and took a last look at her magnificence before going to the shower.
“Well?” She stopped him.
“I’ll be back, but chances are I won’t be unscathed.” He admitted it, only to her, and he didn’t know why he didn’t need to reassure her, didn’t need to pretend.
“That’s what I thought.” She smiled and let him go.
He shook his head and gave a small laugh.
“You’ll ever stop testing me, will you?” It was a rhetorical question. He stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water, bracing himself for the night.
*****
Dane went with Joe back to the airport and to two separate different car rental agencies to pick up new cars.
“I’ll meet you at the Caltex petrol station in Kings Cross in an hour,” Dane said. He hated wearing the disguise. It was hot and bulky, but he had no choice. Once he got his car—the most nondescript sedan on the lot, the kind that the rental place stocked hundreds of—he took off.
The first thing he did when he parked the car toward the rear of the gas station was get the hell out of his disguise. Feeling more like himself in a white linen shirt and cargo shorts, he studied the map on his phone while he waited for Joe.
He needed to familiarize himself as much as possible with the area now that he was driving. The last thing he needed was to get lost or have his foreignness be a handicap to the mission. Even using a navigation system required that you had some knowledge of street names and destinations.
Shana had given him a general idea of the neighborhood and the names of a couple of bars where they might find known associates of Chancy Peterson, but Dane knew he’d need to cause some trouble to get to see Chancy himself.
He hoped Joe was up to keeping him out of too much trouble, the kind where he would get himself killed.
When a pair of flashing headlights pulled into the gas station, Dane looked up from his phone and flashed back. Confirming that it was Joe, he got out of his car.
“You’ll follow me to the Blue Jay Bar, two blocks in the other direction from The Bourbon. Our first stop. You’re not with me until I get into trouble. We may need to stop at a few locations before we find our guy.”
“Got it.” Joe smiled. “Looking forward to it. Beats chauffeuring the governor and looking for a nonexistent boogeyman around every corner.”
“You saying your job protecting the governor is boring, Joe?” They both knew it was hellishly boring.
“That’s why he sent me on this vacation.”
Dane snorted. “We’ll see what kind of vacation it is. There could be some bruising.”
“For the other guys.” Joe nodded. “Maybe for you too.” His face turned serious. “But I’ll make sure that’s all you get. Minor bruising.”