“Kate,” I murmur, wrenching away from her lips to trail kisses over to her earlobe while I try to rein in the unrelenting hunger surging through my veins.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathes, her head falling back to open up her neck. “Please don’t.”

  Her plea eliminates any lingering doubt of whether or not this is a good idea. Whether it would be best to work out things between us first, for me to come clean and tell her how I really feel before making love to her. But her whisper frees me to let go of the indecision and focus on her body, to concentrate on satisfying this woman by showing her just how much I still love her. How I never stopped loving her.

  “Not a chance,” I assure her. Then, without wasting another second, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her, two steps at a time, up the winding staircase to the observation deck.

  Visibility is close to zero outside the impact-resistant windows, which rattle in the squall, but it doesn’t matter. My attention is squarely on Kate, my gaze fixed on her green eyes, as I set her gently on one of the director’s chairs facing the ocean.

  It’s no bed, but it’ll do for now. There’s an urgency in our movements as I unzip and shrug off my jacket and she does the same. Then, her lower lip tucks between her teeth, and she runs her palms down the navy Love Beach Lifeguard Services T-shirt I’m wearing. A shiver shoots up my spine as my cock twitches.

  “You’re so…” she starts, looking up at me.

  “What?” I ask, lifting her legs one at a time to tug off her rain boots.

  “The same and yet…different.”

  “I could say the same for you.”

  Her chin dips, but not before I catch the hint of a frown. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Whatever it is she’s thinking, I want to know. But before I can ask, her hands slide between us along the bare thin strip of skin above my jeans, distracting me as she makes quick work of my belt. But I cut her off when she tries to undo the button.

  “Not yet,” I insist, lifting her arms above her head, so I can whip her shirt up and off and kiss her again, running my hands down the clammy bare skin of her back.

  Her breath hitches when I swallow hard at the sight of her breasts, filling a light-blue, lace-trimmed bra. They’re fuller than I remember, and I fiddle with the clasp to release them, eager to cup them in my palms. Her nipples stiffen almost instantly. I flick the pads of my thumbs against the taut buds, squeezing and rolling each, then dipping my head to take one in my mouth, sucking it deep with a pull that comes straight from my low belly.

  The cold peak against my warm tongue, along with the clench of her fingers around my biceps, stiffens my cock. My length strains against the confines of my jeans. I’m never going to last at this rate. One brush of her fingers and I’ll explode.

  Fortunately, her need seems to match mine as she squirms in the chair, wrapping her legs around me and tugging me closer with moans growing more intense by the second. With one last long suck, I release her nipple and pull her to standing, peeling her shorts and panties down her legs in one fell swoop.

  Kate steadies herself with her hands in my hair, nails raking my scalp, as I land on one knee and grip both hips. Leaning forward, my forehead rests on her low belly while I close my eyes and draw a deep breath of her scent, musky with need. My mouth waters, and I dip my head to edge through her slick folds with my tongue, searching for and finding the sensitive bud.

  Her thighs quiver as her fingers twist my hair, pulling tight as she spreads her legs to allow me deeper access. Her juices flow over my lips, dripping off my chin as I work her clit. She cries out in pleasure. I nearly come in my jeans especially when her breath starts coming fast and I realize how close she is.

  “Don’t stop,” she pleads, her hips rocking as I lap at her, zeroed in on the spot and determined to make her see stars.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, love,” I murmur, with blood rushing through my ears, drowning out the sound of the storm outside, cutting through everything except this woman and the way I want to watch her come undone. It doesn’t take more than another minute, my name falling from her lips over and over again in a way I could only dream of two days ago, the sound of it almost as satisfying as the orgasm ripping through her body when every muscle clenches and she peaks with a strained cry.

  Before the waves stop rolling through her, I’ve risen and freed my length, clenching my teeth to rein in my release that’s only a few pumps away. “This is going to be fast and hard,” I warn her. “I—”

  “Good,” she breathes, cutting me off as her eyelids flutter open and her pupils focus on me. “I want it.”

  Fuck.

  The director’s chair is too flimsy. It would collapse into a pile under the pounding I’m about to deliver.

  “Turn around,” I say instead, guiding Kate to face the windows where she can hold on to the stainless-steel railing. It’s not ideal, but I’m not about to complain. “Hold tight,” I urge, as I line up at her entrance, tugging her hips back as she bends forward.

  One second later, I plunge deep, a low groan releasing from deep in my chest as her warm, tight channel clenches around me, making me lightheaded.

  “Kate,” I exclaim, my balls about to explode as I throb deep inside her. It’s the only coherent thought I can form as I start to move, stroking relentlessly, nearly out of my mind, trying to hold back, needing her to come again.

  Which, thankfully, she does a few beats later. Her entire body shudders as I finish, plowing deep one last time in this cocoon of safety, a refuge as the gale continues its assault all around us.

  Chapter ten

  Kate

  I have no clue how Aiden produced a warm washcloth, but he did, gently wiping me even as I brushed away his ministrations and got dressed, keeping one eye on the rattling windows.

  I don’t regret what happened. It was good. Really good. Mind blowing, in fact. Which, in some ways, makes the fact we’re likely stuck together alone in this lifeguard tower overnight even more awkward than if the tension between us was still so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  I tug on my boots and blow out a long breath. Although the atmosphere doesn’t quite crackle with friction, there are still so many things unsaid. Complicated further by the fact he referred to me as love while we were banging.

  But it’s time for me to get to work. What happened changes nothing. And the endearment isn’t something I should read into. No doubt it simply slipped out in the heat of the moment, not because Aiden Landry actually loves me.

  And even if he did, he had his chance. Although, as I glance over at him, tugging on his jeans and pulling that navy T-shirt over his rock-hard abs, a piece of my heart protests. A sizable chunk.

  When I told him he’s the same and yet…different, I meant it. And, as far as I can tell, the man Aiden Landry turned out to be is even harder to resist than the boy I once loved.

  His gaze flicks over in my direction, catching me watching him. I clear my throat and spin toward the stairs.

  “Kate,” he starts, following me as I bound down them, “You can’t leave.”

  That no nonsense tone is back but carries a hint of panic. If it were the Director of Lifeguard Services talking, that would be one thing, but it isn’t, at least not right now. And the tone, the right to issue a command of me, isn’t something Aiden’s earned back. Even after the incredible orgasm.

  “I’m not leaving,” I respond, a little too sharply. “I’m getting my laptop.”

  “Oh,” he replies. “Right. Good.”

  Ten minutes later, we’re sitting side by side in the director’s chairs, watching as every few minutes there’s a break in the whistling wind and swirling clouds. While I’m pulling up the radar on my laptop, I say, “Donna tells me this tower was built to withstand a hundred-year storm.”

  He glances over. “You wouldn’t be here now if that wasn’t true.”

  There he goes again, acting like he’s in charge of my protection. But rather than annoyance, I feel…cherished.

  But I dismiss the thought almost instantly and clear my throat, focusing on the screen and getting back to business.

  “The storm’s likely to get downgraded now that it’s reached land.” I point out the eye of Hurricane Aiden on the screen. It’s almost fifty miles north of Love Beach.

  “Why is that?”

  “After a hurricane makes landfall, it loses access to the warm ocean waters which serve as its primary energy source. When that happens, the storm’s ability to draw heat from the ocean diminishes. Over land, the air is typically drier and contains more aerosol particles, which results in reduced moisture content being drawn into the system. As a result, cloud coverage declines, and the air cools before sinking. This disrupts the hurricane’s secondary circulation, impeding the formation of crucial thunderstorms within the system.”

  When Aiden doesn’t respond, I glance over to find him watching me.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You—” he starts then stops and looks off into the gray clouds and runs a hand through his hair.

  “What?”

  “You’re brilliant.”

  I scoff. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “No, really,” he insists, his head whipping back in my direction, “I always knew you were, but now… Now, there’s no denying it.”

  There’s a melancholy in his words—or maybe in the way his brows furrow—but he means it. There’s no mistaking the authenticity of his insistence.

  “Why did you become a lifeguard?” I ask, preferring to change the subject rather than discuss my IQ. Plus, I want to learn more about how he got to where he is.

  But rather than answer, a muscle works in his jaw. “Do you love it?”

  My stomach drops. “Love what?”

  “Your work? Being a meteorologist?”

  Something in my gut tells me there’s more to his question than pure curiosity. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just curious.”

  The instant reply, or maybe the tone, confirms there’s more under the surface than still water, but I’m unsure what. I pause and consider my response carefully, thinking about the drab office back in Miami and my boss, of course, who leaves something to be desired.

  Do I love it? Sure, this job is what I always wanted, what I worked hard for eight years to obtain. And, especially, now that I’ve had the opportunity to get out in the field, my passion has, in some ways, been reignited. But there’s still something missing. A void I can’t quite put my finger on that’s leaving me unfulfilled, even though I’ve reached the goal I thought would make me happy.

  “There are things about it I enjoy.”

  He cocks an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “Not a resounding yes, if you ask me.”

  “What about you then?” I snap. “Do you love being the Director of Lifeguard Services?”

  “I do.”

  No hesitation. No consideration.

  “Why? What do you love about it?”

  He glances off, watching sheets of rain stream down the windows in thick rivulets. “I never saw myself as a leader, but here, I’m in service to others. The public, of course, but also my team. It’s rewarding. Plus, no two days are alike and I get to be outdoors. I was never good cooped up, you know.”

  “I know.” I nod. “But what got you into this line of work? When I left, you were still valeting at the country club.”

  “And making good money.”

  “So why the change, then?”

  “It,” he starts then huffs a little laugh and finishes, “was Donna.”

  “Aunt Donna?”

  She never mentioned anything.

  “She didn’t know it at the time, but I got to talking with her right after my twenty-first birthday. You’d been gone close to three years by then, and I was still at the country club.”

  The fact he denotes the year by how long I’d been gone doesn’t escape me, but I ignore the twinge of vindication. Maybe he did miss me even if he never reached out. “And?”

  He lifts a shoulder and lets it drop, still not meeting my gaze. “It was late, and I was drunk. She mentioned you’d selected meteorology as a major, which made sense because you were always good in science and used to love watching storms roll in from the ocean, you remember?”

  How could I forget? Aiden and I used to sit on the tailgate of his old, beat-up pickup and drink Sundrop and eat peach rings for hours and talk and laugh. I swallow hard at the memory, one I haven’t thought of in years.

  “I do.”

  “And, well, I was ready for a change. There was a lifeguard position open, so I applied.”

  “But what does me majoring in meteorology have to do with your decision?”

  He finally looks over, his eyes soft. “Being a lifeguard was an opportunity to prove I could do something with my life. Serve others and…” he trails off.

  “And?” I press again, despite the pit opening in the bottom of my stomach.

  “And it was a way for me to feel close to you when you were hundreds of miles away. You always loved the beach and the water, and whenever I looked up at the sky and studied the clouds, it made me think of you, Kate.”

  Oh.

  Anger quickly replaces the surprise. He doesn’t have the right to claim how much he missed me. He was the reason I left. “I only left because you made it clear there wasn’t a future between us, Aiden.”

  He opens his mouth, but the ring of my cell phone cuts him off. I snatch it up and, with a glance at the screen, answer the call from my boss.

  Chapter eleven

  Aiden

  Sunrise is officially my least favorite time of day.

  Four hours ago, as the pitch-black night faded to a dark gray morning, I rolled over on the makeshift bed. My hips protested, despite the three layers of fire service blankets I made up for us on the cold floor of the lifeguard observation deck, but the discomfort fled the second I reached for Kate and found only empty air.

  My heart pounded like a jackhammer as I searched the station from top to bottom, but when I noticed her duffel bag was missing and spun to check the lock on the door, it sank like a stone. I threw on my boots and stormed out into the pouring rain, breathing a sigh of relief when her footprints—barely visible imprints molded into the wet sand—weren’t headed toward the water.

  But the consolation was short-lived when I reached the edge of the lot where I’d thrown my truck into park after racing over here yesterday afternoon and saw the NSTI van was nowhere in sight.

  I cursed her aloud for slipping away and could’ve killed Kate for not waking me. Hell, I vowed to wring her neck when I got to Donna’s. After I confirmed she’s safe and sound, of course.

  But that was hours ago, and I’m just leaving the emergency response center now. I couldn’t get away any earlier because the eight a.m. all-hands meeting ran long, and then I had to secure the beach again. The good news is no injuries have been reported, and although the rain is forecast to continue for at least another twelve hours, Love Beach was fortunate. Just like me.

  Hurricane Aiden brought Kate back into my life and forced me to face the past. Although visibility is still low, I’m seeing more clearly than I have in years. And that clarity has made it crystal clear what I’m going to do when I get to Donna’s and am face-to-face with the girl I pushed away years ago.

  I’m going to tell Kate how I feel. How I’ve always felt. And how these past thirty-six hours have shown me how stupid I am. Not that I regret what I did for a second. No, telling Kate I didn’t see a future with her, so she’d leave Love Beach and use that scholarship was the right thing to do.

  I didn’t deserve her then and still don’t now, but if she’ll have me—if she’ll give me another chance—I’ll prove what we had then still beats strong now, although the difference is I’m willing to fight for it. For her. For us.

  I’m rehearsing what to say, struggling to find the right words to convey how I feel, the right language to convince her to give me another chance, when I turn the final corner. But something is amiss. The NSTI van isn’t parked in Donna’s driveway or in the street. Once again, it’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is she?” I demand, as Donna answers my pounding on the front door.

  “Get in here,” she replies, tugging me, dripping wet, into her front room by the arm.

  “Where?” I repeat, my voice cracking.

  She closes the door, her palm resting flat on the frame for a beat before she turns to face me. But she doesn’t need to say a word. The look in her eyes conveys the bad news.

  And renders my plan worthless. In a split second, I’m questioning every minute of the past thirty-six hours. Every look, every touch, every emotion. Because what I thought was true between us has evaporated into thin air. Just like Kate.

  Maybe, she didn’t feel the spark I did. Maybe, what happened last night in the lifeguard station—the sex and then the hours-long conversation—wasn’t the beginning of us finding our way back to each other. Maybe, for her, it was closure. Or worse…revenge.

  But the second the thought pops into my mind, I dismiss it. Kate still feels something for me. It’s not the love-struck, all-consuming head-over-heels feeling we had years ago, but there’s an unmistakable connection between us. Or at least, I thought there was. But maybe, I can’t read her as well as I used to. Maybe, I’m one thousand percent wrong.

  I crumple into the nearby armchair, my head hanging between my legs. Last night plays on rewind in my mind, and I’m cursing myself for being lulled into thinking I had all the time in the world rather than coming right out and declaring my feelings.

  “How long ago?” I ask, lifting my head to find Donna watching me.

  “Two hours.”

  “Damn.” I run a hand through my sopping-wet hair dripping on the floor and am sorely tempted to let a string of expletives fly, but that won’t help. The only thing to do is follow her. Now.

 

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