Dare Me, page 15
And just like that, she did. She let go with a shameless ease, spinning dizzily out of control, into a new and terrifying chasm, a prisoner of his hands, of his mouth, of her own need for him.
Before she could catch her breath, he crawled up her body and kissed her. "Again," he murmured.
Yes, again. More. In fact, she was going to die if he didn't sink into her, now. She ran her hands down his back to squeeze his butt, then back up his damp muscles to grip handfuls of his hair, trying to tug his mouth back to hers.
"Not yet, Jade." Gathering her hands in one of his, he pulled them over her head, his eyes tracing a hot trail over her bared, vulnerable body.
"Will." She arched her hips to his, watched his eyes flame.
"Again," he repeated, and slid his hand over her torso, scraping his thumb over her nipple, dipping into her belly button, his fingers cupping between her thighs, stroking her to a point of madness, then easily tipping her over the edge.
While she lay shocked and gasping, staring up at him, he let her hands go, claiming her mouth with his as he levered her hips and finally, finally, drove himself into her. Their twin groans melded in the air while her body closed around him like a tight, greedy fist.
Pleasure simply swamped her, along with an onslaught of emotions she'd have sworn she wasn't ready to face, and certainly not with a man she'd known less than twenty-four hours. It built so quickly she could hardly believe it, but when he began to move, she felt the tremors begin from so deep she could no more have stopped them than a barreling freight train. Lost in it, lost in him, her eyes drifted shut.
"Don't," he said roughly. "Don't close them."
Her eyes flew open to meet his, watching as everything he felt, everything he was, reflected in his eyes. "Watch me." He groaned. "Let me watch you . . ."
She struggled with that, and tried to hold back. Engaging her heart here, with him, was not smart. Always in her life, she followed a plan. Knew the way to that plan. But this, with him . . . there was no plan. There never had been. He was in control, filling her to bursting, taking her to a new place, to new heights, something she hadn't even believed possible.
But he wasn't totally in control either. His breath came faster, his skin gleaming as he looked down at her. "Do you feel this?" Holding her head between his hands, he slowly thrust into her. "Do you feel me?"
"I feel you." She held onto his slick shoulders, digging her fingers in as she arched to meet him stroke for stroke, and gave him the rest. "I feel nothing but you."
A low groan rumbled from deep in his throat as he linked their fingers on either side of her head. She held on to him tight, letting him take her where he wanted to, her own helpless cries bouncing off the wall as she sank into the shocking, wild passion he offered. When his body tightened, shuddering as he buried his face in her throat, emptying himself into her, it triggered her own leap, and as she fell, she held on to one thought: She hadn't meant to engage her heart, not ever again, but it was engaged now.
Engaged and locked.
She awoke just before dawn, violently aroused, entangled with another body. Legs, arms, mouths. Will. He pushed her back, towering over her. She couldn't see him in the dark, but felt every inch, crying out when he sank two fingers into her. And when he lowered his head, suckling at a breast while he lightly brushed his thumb over the core of her, she cried out again, exploding on impact.
He gripped her hips. Her entire body quivered, still locked in the throes of an orgasm that wouldn't end, and she hovered there, arching, writhing, needing him to plunge into her.
But he went utterly still.
"Will?"
"Shh." Then he flattened himself over her, wrapping his arms around her body as he rolled with her off the bed to the floor. They hit hard, with Will on the bottom, breaking her fall with his body. He grunted in pain, and she gasped his name, but that was all she got out before he cupped his hand over her mouth in the darkness.
That's when she saw it, the spear of a flashlight from outside the window, stabbing into the room, over the wall and the colorful wall hanging.
"I doubt that's the Easter Bunny." Will pushed off her, staying low to grab her backpack, which he tossed her way. "Get dressed." On his knees, he tossed her the clothes she'd taken off before her shower the night before. "Quickly, Jade."
He didn't have to tell her—she was already working her buttons closed as fast as her shaking fingers could go.
She could hear him doing the same, and when she
blinked through the dark, he was in jeans, barefoot and with his shirt unbuttoned, checking his gun.
Then he jammed the gun into his waistband, shoved his feet into his athletic shoes, and grabbed her hand. "Let's go."
She might have asked where, but the truth was it didn't matter.
In that moment of time, with him standing there— hair mussed from her fingers, holding his arm in a way that reminded her he might have been killed yesterday, his good hand on her possessively, protectively—she'd have followed him anywhere.
Anywhere at all.
Jade had to press her lips together to keep from hyperventilating from the stress. With dawn barely broken, the hallway outside their room was still dark.
"This way," Will whispered, and taking her hand, ran with her down the hallway until they came to a side door. "Stick close."
"Like glue," she promised, and clung for one moment when he hugged her tight, then reeled when he kissed her hard.
It was different now. They'd . . . been together. There were complicated, messy feelings sinking in the pit of her belly, and she wondered if he felt the same. Wondered if the situation had been different, would they stand a chance?
Far before she was ready, he pulled her into the breaking dawn, into the back lot, which had a few
rows of cars. Will tossed his backpack into an open Jeep that didn't have a top. "Hop in," he said.
"Whose is it?"
"We'll figure that out later."
"But . . . that's illegal."
"Jade. Do it."
She looked horrified. "Will—" "Now."
Will hot-wired the vehicle, and then glanced back at the hotel, and the room in which they'd stayed. Clearly the men after them believed Jade could lead them right to Mario's door. The hotel rooms on the bottom floor were still dark except for the last room—their room. From inside it a flashlight beam bounced around.
"Will."
He looked over at Jade's pale, pale face as the Jeep coughed to life. She'd seen, too. Everything he felt for her burst from his heart to his throat. He hadn't expected to feel something like this, now, for her, but there it was. Emotions so deep and real, he didn't know how he'd lived without them. "I know," he said. "I see them." Ignoring the pain in his arm, he hit the gas and took them out of the lot and down the road, the wind whipping at them, along with the knowledge that if they'd been any slower ...
Jade kept her head turned away from him, taking in the landscape that had been too dark to see last night. The elevated plateaus and dry lowlands in the distance conflicted with the lush green tropical feel to the beaches they drove past. The resorts lined every square inch of beach, from high-end fancy hotels to the more economical dwellings.
She reached down and opened her backpack, pulling out the tourist pamphlet she'd picked up in the lobby the night before. "How do you say fish in Spanish?" she asked.
"Pescados."
"Yeah, that sounds familiar. . . . Hey!" She turned a triumphant face toward his. "Dos Pescados Can-tina. Two fish. His father named it that because he only ever catches two fish, in the ocean right outside the back door of the bar."
Damn, if her smile wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. "Is there a map in that thing?"
With her brow furrowed in concentration, her head bent to her task, she navigated, and fifteen minutes later they pulled into another parking lot. The Dos Pescados indeed sat right on the beach, next to a marina, both appearing to be past their heyday. A decade past. The building itself was pseudo-Colonial, and probably would have been named a historical monument in the States. Or bulldozed for property value. A flashing sign in the window read: ABIERTO.
They sat in the idling Jeep in the pale gray dawn light and looked at it. "Why would a bar be open at six in the morning?" Will wondered out loud.
Jade lifted a shoulder. "Maybe it never closed."
"Exactly." He eyed the place for another moment. Too still. Too quiet. "Jade—"
"I'm not staying here. Don't ask me to. After all this, and how far we've come, I want to see it to the end."
He looked into her eyes. Beyond the exhaustion and fear, there was determination. She'd been through so much, and he didn't mean just with Mario. Her childhood hadn't been a walk in the park, and yet she'd made herself. She'd grown up and done what she'd wanted to do. Now Mario had taken something from her, and she deserved to get it back. Personally. Not thrilled with what that meant, and the danger she could face, he blew out a breath. "Let's go, then."
Together they walked the dirt driveway toward the building, with Will keeping a hand on Jade's back. There were no other cars around. The only sounds came from the obnoxiously loud bird in the bushes lining the walk and from the ocean pounding the surf across the street. The air felt thick and warm, and when they opened the door to the bar and looked inside, the air inside came thick and warm, too.
And smelled of death.
Through the windows the early sunlight slanted in, showing tables covered with empty bottles and glasses. Beneath their feet the floor felt sticky, and was littered with peanut shells.
But for the lack of a crowd, the place might have been frozen in time during peak business hours— except for the one person lying on the bar itself, arms and legs spread, mouth and eyes open.
Mario Alvarez, dead as a doornail.
"Oh God." Jade put a shaky hand to her mouth. "Is he . . ."
"Oh yeah." Will eyed the mess around them. "I'm thinking it's time to call this in." He searched Mario's pockets, and was shocked to come up with a wallet and a Palm Pilot.
"Why would they leave that on him?"
Will glanced at her. "Why do people do half the stuff they do?" He realized she was shaking like a leaf, and just as green as one. "You holding up?"
"Better than he is."
A grim smile crossed his face. Atta girl. "I'd say a lot better." He flipped open the little palm-held unit and started accessing the data.
"Looks to me like they did this in the height of the evening's festivities," she said, looking around, anywhere other than at Mario's body. "Maybe with a full house all around, thinking that in the chaos they wouldn't be seen."
"And maybe they were wrong, and they were seen."
9/11
"And everyone cleared out in a hurry."
"Yeah. Look at that. Payday." Will lowered the unit so she could read the screen. "His daily log. From the day before yesterday."
" 'Sell gems to Jade,' " she read. " 'Pay off Frank before he breaks my kneecaps.' " She stared at the words and frowned. "He was going to sell me the stolen gems. But ... I couldn't have afforded to buy them."
"Probably only one or two. He needed quick cash."
"And I broke up with him before he could get it."
Will glanced at the body on the bar. Mario's slacks were torn at the knees, revealing two bloody masses beneath the material. "He was right. They broke his kneecaps."
Jade eyed the gaping hole in Mario's linen shirt on his chest and shivered in horror. This could have been her fate, too, if not for Will. "They added that fatal bullet. Why would they do that if Mario still owed them?"
Will fiddled with the palm-held and then showed her another entry, this one dated yesterday.
Get gems back from Jade.
Jade stared at the words, her stomach jittery. "But ... he never gave me any gems."
"My guess is that several people believe he did." They both looked at Mario.
"And because they believe it," she said slowly, "he became dispensable. And now ..."
"They're after you," Will said. "Now we call this in, because until this Frank guy is nailed, you need some serious protection."
"If it hadn't been for you, it'd already be too late for me. Will—"
At the sound of tires on gravel outside the windows, he swore softly, pocketed the Palm Pilot and grabbed her hand. They ran past Mario, with Will pulling out his cell phone as they went. He tried to turn it on as they ran through the bar into an extremely small kitchen and storage area, and then out the back door, across the already warm sand toward the marina.
"No battery," he said, then swore and stuffed the phone into his pocket and tugged her along even faster.
The sun had made an appearance, sitting low on the hills in the east, casting the ocean in mauves and purples. The rhythmic sound of the water smashing onto the beach drowned out the slapping of their shoes on the wet sand as they kept running, far past the time Jade wanted to collapse in an exhausted heap.
"Hurry." Will leapt onto the wooden dock bordering the marina, reaching back to pull her up.
Lungs burning from the run, Jade didn't look back but took his hand and climbed up, following him as he ran along the docks. She had no idea what they were looking for, and didn't have the breath to ask, nor the breath to mention she had her cell phone, somewhere in the bottom of her backpack.
At the end of the second dock they came across a small powerboat, and a tall, lanky man standing in front of it.
"A panguero," Will said quietly to Jade. "A boatman."
The panguero was dressed in dark trousers and a light T-shirt with a large floppy hat to protect him from what would surely be a brutal sun in a few hours. He was setting up a sign, which Will read to her. "He rents himself and his boat out to tourists to see the ballenas. The whales." He pulled out some cash. "Una hora?"
The man counted the money, stuck it in his pocket. "Si, si." He handed Will a key.
Will tossed his backpack onto the deck of the boat. Straddling the dock and the gunwale of the boat, he reached out a hand to Jade. "I paid him extra to get the boat without a guide."
"But do you know how to drive this thing?"
As she climbed in, he made his way to the front of the boat. "Does it matter?"
"Not much," she admitted, glancing anxiously behind them. "Whatever you do, go fast."
"Already on it." * * *
Jade shoved the hair out of her eyes and tried to see, but Will had them at full throttle. The wind whipped at her, and the sun glinted off the choppy water and into her eyes, completely blinding her. She hugged her backpack to her chest and kept a lookout the best she could from the seat next to where Will stood behind the wheel, driving the boat.
"Do you see them?" he shouted over the roar of the engine and the wind.
"No." She sat backward on the bench, her gaze glued to the water.
"Keep looking. They're not going to give up."
"But I don't have the gems!"
He cut her a glance, and as he did, his cold, flat eyes warmed. "I know. It's going to be okay, Jade."
Looking up at him, hugging her legs to her chest for warmth, tired and cold and hungry, she believed him. It was crazy. It made no sense. They were somewhere in the Pacific off the coast of Baja, running from guys with guns who hadn't hesitated to kill two people that she knew of so far, and yet she really did believe him.
He stood with his legs braced wide apart, one hand on the wheel, one hand on the level that was apparently the gas. His shirt was plastered to his body, arms bare—except for the left one with the bandage—and corded with strength, his shoulders broad enough to take on this whole mess in order to see justice served for his sister's senseless murder. "I can't believe Mario's dead."
He glanced over at her, his jaw tight and bunched. "I'm glad." He blew out a breath and shook his head. "I'm glad."
"I know." Everything within her ached for him. Fighting the wind, she stood up, holding onto the dash, setting her hand on his arm. Beneath her fingers, his muscles leapt. "But, Will, I'm glad it wasn't you."
He closed his eyes for a beat, then met hers. "I've killed before, Jade. And I'll do it again. My job—"
"I know. I can deal with that. I can deal with all of this."
He lifted a shoulder, as if wanting to believe that, but not quite sure. "Any sight of them?"
"No—" She broke off with a startled scream when the windshield in front of them shattered.
"Found them," he said harshly. "Duck." When she just stood there, paralyzed, he pushed her down to the floor by his feet.
Which left only Will's back for a target. "Get down!" she screamed at him.
"I need both hands on the boat."
Oh God. She argued with herself even as she slung her backpack over one shoulder and reached up and under the hem of his shirt to pull the gun out of his waistband. "Oh my God."
"Jade." His eyes met hers for one tortured beat, and in them she saw that he knew what it cost her to do this. "Flick off the safety," he said hoarsely.
Shaking violently, she followed his directions, then came up on her knees and pointed the gun at the boat gaining on them. It was larger than the one they were in, some kind of offshore speedboat with two engines off the back that even she could see would easily overtake them in another minute.
"Take aim. I love you, Jade."
Her fingers jerked on the trigger, and the gun went off. She whipped her head toward Will. "You . . . what?"
"I love you. Careful, don't blow a hole in our boat." Using the toe of his foot, he nudged the tip of the gun up.
"You love—" She broke off with another scream when they were hit again, directly in the engine compartment. Smoke began to rise, and swearing, Will swerved the boat.
The boat behind them swerved, too.
Will swerved the other way.
