Adrift, page 12
The covers slid lower, finally exposing the thick, flushed head of his erection. Becca clenched her hands on her thighs to keep from reaching for it. And the sound he made when his long fingers closed around the thick shaft made it suddenly hard to breathe. A low, almost inaudible groan of pleasure that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.
He pushed the covers aside with his free hand and kept stroking himself with the other. Three, four mind-melting, slow and sensual strokes before stopping.
Becca dragged in a breath while he reached for the bottle he’d found and poured some lube in his palm. And when he fisted himself this time, squeezing, the muscles in his belly and thighs standing out, she felt hot all over.
Lord, he was beautiful like this, his big hand moving nice and slow up and down the shaft, his rigid flesh all slick and shiny. The thick head flushed and swollen.
“Stop,” she whispered shakily, unable to take it a moment longer.
His hand stopped, still closed around the plump head, his eyes flying open to lock with hers. Breathing faster, Becca licked her lips and shifted closer. “I want to take over.”
He groaned and released himself, his hands balling into fists at his hips and that molten gaze locked with hers. His jaw was taut, his chest rising and falling with each erratic breath.
Tingling all over, half-drunk on the power she held over him, she settled her palms on his thighs. His quads bunched beneath her hands as she squeezed, then skimmed upward, slowly, past the glistening shaft between, up and over the incredible landscape of his abs and pecs.
She savored every inch of him, enjoying every contour and hollow she hadn’t been able to explore properly before. Then she paused to cover and squeeze his pecs as she leaned forward to capture his mouth with hers.
Chase plunged a hand into the back of her hair, his other locking around her shoulders, holding tight as he opened for her, his tongue twining with hers. Hungry. So damn sensual it made her shiver.
He kissed her slow and deep, like he’d been starving for her. Like he never wanted to stop. Becca licked and nibbled, sucked and teased while her hands skimmed back down the way they’d come, her fingertips grazing each sensitive spot that made him twitch and shudder.
She broke the kiss just long enough to look down between his legs an instant before closing her fingers around his hard length. He sucked in a breath, his body going rigid as a low, desperate sound came from deep in his chest.
Her core clenched, imagining sliding down onto his cock. He was hot in her palm, slick and hard and shiny. She stroked him firm and slow, drawing it out, pausing on the upstroke to swirl her palm against the crown of his cock.
His hips surged, pushing him harder into her hand. “God, Becca,” he groaned.
So incredibly hot.
She kept going, watching his face. Long, languid strokes that made him moan and shudder, building the heat, flooding her with a heady wave of power and arousal.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
He made a rough sound and dragged his fingers through her hair, his expression taut, eyes blazing. “Harder. Make me come,” he rasped out. A demand edged with a plea.
Her core clenched again at the raw need in his voice, in his eyes. She bent to capture his mouth once more and resumed stroking. Slower. Making him work for it. Prolonging the moment until he reached his breaking point.
Having him at her mercy this way was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. To feel him gripping her hair tight, his body tensing, fighting the need to take over, poised on the brink of release.
Two seconds later, he hissed in a breath, seemed to swell in her grip. “Ohh, Bec,” he groaned, then arched, eyes squeezed shut, the beautiful ecstasy on his face transfixing her. He started to come, the sexy sounds he made filling the room as he spurted across his chest and stomach.
Dragging in a ragged breath, he sagged back against the pillows, his gorgeous hazel eyes opening to fix on hers. Hungry for more, she crawled up to lean over him and kiss him languidly, relishing this new intimate connection they’d forged.
“Your turn,” he whispered, reaching for her shoulders.
She shook her head slightly and kept kissing him, enjoying this too much to stop, even if she was swollen and slick with need.
“I want to make you come,” he murmured against her lips. “But I’ll settle for watching you get yourself off instead.”
She chuckled at the teasing note in his voice and sat up.
He eyed her, frowning a bit. “So that’s a no?”
“Another time.” She was too shy to get herself off in front of him right here and now, and couldn’t think how to put into words what was holding her back from allowing him to return the favor.
She didn’t want the pressure of feeling like she needed to perform. Didn’t want to be vulnerable or risk her heart any more than she already was. And…if she allowed him to touch her now, he’d want to take things farther later. And she wasn’t sure how much she could give him.
After one last lingering kiss, she sat up to stroke his hair, his face. She could see the confusion in his eyes. The frustration at her unwillingness to give herself to him. “I’m going downstairs to make us a snack. What do you feel like eating?”
His gaze glowed with unmistakable heat. “You.”
She blushed and brushed it off with a laugh, even as a fresh wave of arousal slid through her at the thought of his tongue between her legs. “Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.”
Closing his door behind her, she paused to pull in a deep breath, her whole body suffused with a need she was still too hesitant to let him satisfy.
Chapter Fourteen
The one and only shrink Ryder had seen before his discharge from the Corps had said the memories that haunted him would eventually begin to fade. But it seemed to him that his issues were getting harder to deal with every day, and he was already drinking way too much to try and escape them.
Ryder parked in the driveway out front of Chase’s place. He hauled his suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it up to the door, exhausted after the long day of travel from the close protection course the security company had just sent him to. It would be good to hang with his buddy again, but right now all he wanted was a hot shower and an obscene amount of sleep.
He used his key in the front door and stepped inside, pausing when he heard a female voice coming from the kitchen. He suppressed a groan. Chase had company.
Leaving his luggage, he walked around the corner…and stared in shock. “Uh…hey.”
Chase and Becca both looked over at him, clearly caught off guard. Chase was sitting at the table, shirtless, with Becca draped across his lap, wearing his Marine Corps T-shirt.
“Hey, man,” Chase said, sitting up straighter as Becca immediately slid off his lap, looking uncomfortable. “Thought you weren’t due back until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, wrapped up early.” He aimed a smile at Becca, the last person he’d expected to see here. “Good to see you again.” What was she doing here? They were together now?
“You too,” she murmured, tucking a dark wave behind her ear, a flush on her cheeks.
Okay, he was making this ten times more awkward by standing here, and they clearly wanted to be alone. “I’m beat. Gonna head upstairs and crash.” He walked back to the front door to retrieve his suitcase, already feeling like a fifth wheel.
As he carried it upstairs, he heard treads below him and glanced back to find Chase coming after him.
His buddy followed him into the room Ryder had claimed and shut the door behind them. Ryder placed his suitcase on the bed and unzipped it to get busy unpacking.
“So. Been busy while I was gone?” he asked without looking up. He would have stayed away for another night if he’d known Chase had company.
“She just showed up out of the blue yesterday. She’d been down visiting her mom in Myrtle Beach and decided to drive up to see me at the last second.”
He nodded, separated the clean clothes from the laundry and made piles on the bed. Chase didn’t need his blessing. He was a big boy and could do whatever—and whoever—he wanted. It was none of Ryder’s business, except that he didn’t want to see his best friend get hurt again.
He’d never seen Chase as down as he’d been these past few weeks since Becca left him without a word. “So you’re together now?”
“I…dunno.”
He stopped and looked back to raise an eyebrow at Chase. “Sure looks like it to me.”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated. There’s something big going on for her and she won’t tell me much about it. But she’s definitely scared.”
He frowned, not liking the sound of that. “Stalker?”
“She won’t tell me.” He sighed and dropped his hand. “I want to help, but she won’t tell me anything more.”
“Please tell me she’s at least hired personal security now.” Chase was trained and could protect her from an overzealous fan when they went out somewhere, and he could take down someone who tried to attack her. But this situation sounded a hell of a lot more serious than that. She needed a professional to guard her.
He winced. “I’m guessing not, since she showed up here alone.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “What about you? You get an assignment yet?”
“No, but I’m supposed to report in LA next week. Guess they’ll hand me something then.”
“That’s great news. Any idea who it might be?”
“None.” He’d been planning to hang out here with Chase until he had to fly out west, but in light of the current situation between him and Becca, maybe he should make himself scarce.
Chase was quiet a moment, watching him. “Look, don’t feel like you have to take off because of Becca and me. Seriously. I don’t even know what’s going on with us yet, and it could be nothing.”
Hadn’t looked like nothing to him, and hadn’t for a while now on Chase’s part. Ryder just hoped his buddy had his eyes open this time. “Nah, it’s all good.”
An awkward pause followed, then he cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll let you get squared away and get some sleep. I’ll take Becca out for a while, so the house’ll be quiet.”
“Thanks, man.” Except that was the last thing he wanted.
“Sure.”
As soon as the door shut behind Chase, Ryder expelled a long breath, conscious of the heavy pressure filling his ribcage. His pulse quickened, nerves pricking him all over like little needles.
Apprehension.
He’d come here because he didn’t want to be alone right now. Couldn’t handle sitting here by himself and letting the inevitable slide happen again, the flood of memories the quiet always brought.
He rummaged through the pile of laundry in his suitcase, searching for something he’d stashed in his luggage to numb the pain. He really shouldn’t, but…
Anything to escape the torture awaiting him in his own mind.
****
“Sandcastles? Are you serious?” Becca laughed as Chase carried the bag and blanket onto the beach. He’d driven them down here to this spot a bit off the beaten path, and not crowded. With her wide-brimmed hat and shades on, the chances of anyone recognizing her were low.
“Yeah, I’m serious.” He eyed her. “When’s the last time you made a sandcastle?”
“I dunno. Twenty years at least.”
“Exactly. Way too long.”
It was sunny out, but the breeze held a cool edge. He shook out the plaid blanket on the sand and placed the bag on the corner to anchor it. “In another few hours the sun will set and most of the tourists will clear out, giving us lots of privacy to sit out here and enjoy the view together.”
Sounded perfect to her. Her body was still humming with unrelieved arousal from earlier. Already at a simmer, it wouldn’t take much for him to make it boil over, and she both wanted that and was nervous at the same time.
“All right,” he said. “Grab a pail and let’s get going.”
She slipped off her flip-flops and chose a pail and shovel from the bag, her face shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat. “Cape Hatteras is every bit as gorgeous as I imagined it would be.”
“Yeah. Been too long since I was last down here.” He took the other plastic bucket and shovel from the bag. The wind rolling off the water was chilly, the breath of fall in the air. “Here, wrap up in this. I’ll go get us some water to keep the sand damp.” He shook out another blanket and draped it around her shoulders, then walked toward the white-capped waves rolling into shore.
The view was incredible, but it couldn’t hold a candle to the figure he cut. Tall, powerful, masculine grace.
“What about this spot?” she called out as he strode back with a pail of water. The wind was blowing her hair around her shoulders, her bare feet covered in sand.
“Looks good to me.”
Something important had shifted between them today, and not just physically. Her trust in him was deeper than ever. She wanted to tell him about Rick. How much should she divulge, though?
She got to her hands and knees and started digging out a shallow trench in the sand.
“What’s that?” he asked after watching her for a few seconds.
“A moat.” She looked up at him questioningly. “Don’t tell me your sandcastles don’t have moats.”
“Of course they do. But that’s not a moat. It’s like a sad little ditch. How’s that going to keep invaders out?” He knelt next to her and dug his plastic shovel deep. “Needs to be like that.”
“Bossy,” she muttered and dug her pail in, scooping out damp sand.
They worked together, digging out a rough circle, piling all the excavated sand into the middle to start making the castle with. He formed it into a large central mound with four smaller ones on the corners. Becca made perfectly shaped little crenellated towers with her bucket, topping each tower with them.
The whole time she was mulling everything over in her mind. Worrying about the consequences if she went with her gut and told Chase what was really going on. Yet desperately craving the chance to get it out in the open finally.
They mostly worked together in silence, and she consciously took the opportunity to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere and fresh air. But most of all, she loved spending time with him, loved that she trusted him to be out here in public together. She wanted to let him in even more.
Not yet.
“Needs some shells,” she announced suddenly, then turned and began scouring the beach for some while he sculpted.
She came back a few minutes later with a handful of shells and began decorating the castle, nerves crawling in her belly. Just tell him. “Needs another window here. And this door should be bigger.”
A grin tugged at his mouth, but he followed her directions. “Glad you’re having fun.”
Her too.
When they’d finished it, he sat back on his heels. “There. Whaddya think?”
“I think this masterpiece of sand and shell needs to be recorded for posterity.” And so she would have this snapshot in time to remember him by if things didn’t work out.
His eyebrows rose. “That good, huh?”
“Definitely.” She stood and took out her phone, circling the castle to get just the right shot of him next to it. “Perfect,” she announced, shooting him a smile even though her heart ached.
“It’s a pretty great castle,” he agreed.
“Right? About a thousand times better than anything I made before. You’re good.”
“What can I say, I’m good with my hands.”
The look he gave her heated her insides. “Yes, you are.”
Instead of adding something more, he got up and went to the blanket he’d spread out on the sand, then sat down and patted the spot in front of him. She came over and sat where he’d indicated, sliding the other blanket off her shoulders and handing it to him.
Chase spread it out, wrapped it around them both, then wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his body. Warmth spread through her. She sighed and relaxed into his hold, her head cradled on his shoulder. Safe in his arms with their castle standing proud and decidedly lopsided while the waves rolled into shore behind it in the distance.
Tell him, that inner voice urged, and Becca couldn’t ignore it any longer.
It was time to push her secret fears aside and confide in him.
Chapter Fifteen
Chase held her in silence for a while, absorbing the feel of her into his bones. Then she spoke, her voice so quiet the words barely carrying above the breeze.
“I want to tell you some things. But it’s a lot,” she warned, staring out at the view. “So I’d understand if you’d rather I not involve you.”
He was already way more than involved. Had been long before she’d walked into his condo back in LA all those weeks ago. “I want to know. And whatever you tell me, I swear I won’t repeat it to anyone.”
“Not even your family. Or Ryder. No one, Chase.” Her body all but vibrated with tension.
“No one. I swear.” He squeezed her, willing her to believe him.
“All right, but you might be sorry after.” She heaved out a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the water. Maybe it was easier for her to talk this way, without having to look at him. “I told you I don’t know who my father is.”
“Yes.”
“Well, my mom doesn’t know either. Because she was a sex worker.”
He was glad she couldn’t see him, because he couldn’t control the surprise on his face. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” She drew her knees up more, tenting the blanket. “It started long before she got pregnant with me. And when I was little, the guy I grew up thinking of as my stepdad, wasn’t actually even my mom’s boyfriend. He was her pimp.”
He winced inside and hugged her closer, sensing her distress. Her shame. “Go on,” he said in a low voice. Damn, he’d never imagined she’d had that kind of a childhood. Had to have been rough on her.
“She worked for him until I was thirteen.”
