Текст книги "If You Dare"
Автор книги: Jessica Lemmon
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 12 страниц)
Marcus had wanted to claim her, when what he should have done was protect her. He still would have punched the idiot, but he didn’t have to grab her up and kiss her in front of the crowd. Seemed like the thing to do at the time, but he’d taken it a step too far.
Damn.
He kicked the deflated air mattress to the side, next to the rest of Lily’s goods and wares that he had come to retrieve. Then he headed upstairs, careful of the gaps and cracks in the flooring, and turned left into what was supposedly Essie Mae’s former bedroom. Tonight was as dark and spooky as the last night he was here, but he was so damned brokenhearted, he thought all his childhood nightmares—Jason, Freddy, and Pinhead—could have all appeared and Marcus wouldn’t even be able to summon up a good set of goose bumps.
He bent and picked up the device he’d stashed in the closet. He pressed a button and a tinny voice said one word.
“Go.”
“Yeah, Essie,” he said. “I’m going.”
He stood, bone-tired and husk-empty, turned… and encountered a beautiful pale-skinned, strawberry-blonde hovering in the doorway, wearing an emerald-green dress.
The sight of Lily nearly stopped his heart. He swore, and then put a palm to his chest. “You scared the shit out of me, McIntire.”
She shrugged then gestured to the recorder in his hand. “You’re a cheater.”
“Kind of.”
“That explains the voice,” she said, “but not everything else.”
Not the footsteps, the crashing sound, the fact that he and Lily had come together that night and several times since.
“No.” He shook his head. “Guess not.”
A small smile found her face in the dimness of his flashlight’s beam, and it was like the sun had come out after a year of darkness. His heart lifted. It had to mean something that she was here.
“I was afraid of more than this place.” She took a wary look around the room, as if waiting for something to jump out at them. But whatever activity had ramped up the night they’d first made love was not here. He could only feel Lily, only feel his love for her stretching between them like a strong band.
“I was afraid of trying again,” she admitted. “Afraid of being judged. Of people talking about me. I didn’t want to give them a chance to shun me. Not again.”
“Lily.” He took a step toward her, needing to touch her. She held up a hand and arched a prim eyebrow. He stopped in his tracks.
“I dare you, Black.”
His lips curved into a smile. “Dare me to what, McIntire?”
“Try,” she whispered in the surrounding darkness, “to only kiss me once.”
“That’s a bet I’ll lose.” Erasing the space between them, he caught her head in his hands and kissed her long and hard, until she was climbing him, clawing at him, messing up his hair, and making his pants too small in the crotch.
A creak that sounded a lot like a door swinging open echoed from another part of the house. He looked down at Lily in his arms and saw that her lust-filled eyes were quickly sobering.
“Maybe let’s do this elsewhere,” he suggested.
“Yes. Good idea.”
He took her hand, weaving their fingers together, and started down the stairs, carefully maneuvering her around the gaps. “My place or yours?”
“How about Hawaii?”
He paused at the front door. “Yeah?”
She nodded and grinned.
“My place first, though,” he said.
“And what about all that?” she pointed back to the discarded air mattress and other paraphernalia.
“We’ll get it next time,” he promised, and then hustled her out the door.
Epilogue
There were more umbrellas in Lily’s piña colada than there were dotting the semi-private beach laid out in front of her. She stood on a blanket of white sand framed by a turquoise ocean and a sea of palm trees blowing in the warm Hawaiian breeze.
She took a deep breath, coconut suntan lotion and fresh ocean air mingling in her senses.
“You’re such a tourist,” Marcus quipped from her left.
“I’m in Hawaii. I’m drinking what the locals drink.” She frowned at the massive fishbowl glass in her palm, already beginning to melt. “Since you’re a spoilsport, I brought you a beer.” She abandoned her drink on the small table next to her chair and walked over to the hammock where he sprawled, naked save for the jaunty board shorts riding low on his hips. She placed the ice-cold bottle on his abdomen and watched with delight as his abs clenched.
He sucked in a startled breath, clamping onto her arm as he pulled the bottle away from his body. He didn’t let her go, lowering her instead to his waiting mouth. “Vixen.”
She smiled. “Asshat.”
Their mouths met for a kiss that threatened to buckle her knees. Before she knew what was happening, she was being towed into the hazy, gauzy oasis of lust only he seemed capable of bringing her to. If she didn’t put the kibosh on this kiss, she’d haul him back to their cabana for some afternoon delight…again.
He pulled away from her first, and a stubborn protestation sounded low in her throat. His toothy grin would have better suited a predator with a pointy dorsal fin.
“Later, toots,” he said, hand trickling down her back to cup her bottom. “You’ve nearly worn me to a nub over the last two days alone.”
His fingers slipped beneath her bikini bottoms to touch one cheek. She stepped out of his reach. “Fine,” she said. “If you need a break.” She walked to her beach chair, knowing he watched her. She shouldn’t tease him. She needed a break, too. She ached in muscles she didn’t know she had. Sleeping with the sexiest man on the planet would do that to a girl.
He remained quiet, letting her have that last dig, then slid his sunglasses from his nose to his head and closed his eyes. She watched him in the dappled shade of his beachside bed, admiring the sexy way his hair brushed his forehead.
Since the night of the RSD dinner, the same night her ex tried to bully her and Marcus stood up for her honor, they’d grown closer. As often as possible, he made good on not letting her leave his bed. And she made sure she escaped to her own house at least once or twice a week. But just before this trip, she realized her lease was up. And she did not re-sign.
When he saw the paperwork on her kitchen table, and the fact that she’d checked the box that said she was not renewing, Marcus had pulled her against his body and kissed her deeply. It had sort of gone unsaid that when they returned from Hawaii, they would relocate the contents of Lily’s house to Marcus’s. Sometimes a kiss said so much more than words. And she hadn’t tired of learning and relearning the physical language between them. At this rate, she’d be fluent in no time.
“Macadamia nut for your thoughts,” Marcus said, bringing her back to present.
Lily lounged in her beach chair, an unread novel open against her stomach, her drink more liquid than slush. She blinked over at him. He was leaning across the hammock, arm outstretched, the nut between his thumb and index finger.
When she reached for it, he pulled his hand back. “Ah-ah. You have to tell me what you were thinking about first.”
She felt her cheeks heat.
His eyebrows jumped. “Again?” he asked with mock seriousness. “You filthy girl.”
The laugh that bubbled out of her only escalated when he rolled from the hammock and yanked her out of the beach chair. The book fell from her lap to the sand, and she stumbled to keep up with him.
His hands landed on her butt, and he squeezed her cheeks in his palms. “Let’s go play in the waves,” he said, lowering his head and stealing a kiss. “Deep, dark waves where no one can see what my hands are doing.”
She reached for the drawstring on his shorts. “Or mine?”
He grinned down at her, his thick hair blowing in the breeze. “Especially yours.”
When his arm banded around her thighs, she squealed. He tossed her over his shoulder and walked her to the shore while she held onto the waistband of his shorts for dear life. He carried her until they were knee-deep in the ocean and put her down, scooping handfuls of cool water onto her sun-soaked skin. She shuddered, her body going stiff against the surge of sudden cold.
“What are y-you doing?” she asked, shivering.
He dropped another handful onto her midriff and chased the rivulets over her bare stomach. “Acclimating you to the temperature.”
She smirked. “Copping a feel is more like it.”
“Yeah, that, too.” He poured water over her shoulder, trailing his hand down her arm slowly. His face grew serious.
She put her hand on his. “You all right?”
“I was just thinking about the mansion,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “If you hadn’t made that bet…”
They wouldn’t be here together now.
“If you hadn’t tried to scare me out of the house,” she added.
He smiled his wicked smile—her favorite. “If you hadn’t thrown yourself at me on the air mattress.”
She drew back and splashed him. Marcus squinted, saltwater dripping from his eyebrows and rolling off the tip of his nose.
He grabbed her waist and gave her a long, deep, slow, wet kiss. One she might not recover from any time soon. When they parted, he said, “Okay, that was me. Hard to admit…like other things I can’t admit.”
The uncharacteristically sheepish glance he cast to the side made Lily brace for impact.
“If I say it, don’t freak out.”
Doing her best to appear innocent, she widened her eyes. “I won’t.”
He quirked his lips. “No…I don’t believe you.”
“I promise.” She couldn’t keep the million-watt grin from lighting her face.
“No.” He shook his head. “Now it’s turned into a thing. I’m not going to say it.”
She tugged his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. “Silly boy, you just did.”
He frowned. “No I didn’t.”
“Oh, yes you did. You dropped your gloves, left yourself exposed. Gave away your position.” She waded out to deeper water, splashing and singing, “Marcus Black loves me, Marcus Black loves me!”
“I never said that,” he called, following after her, his thick legs slashing through the water as he walked.
When he caught her, he scooped her up, holding her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. One of her top five favorite places to be. She put her arms around his neck as the tide sent water sluicing between their bodies.
“What about you?” he asked. “I don’t hear you making any heartfelt admissions.”
She traced his lips with one finger and avoided looking into his dark eyes—eyes that held more truth than she could handle some days. Not to mention that admissions, heartfelt or otherwise, weren’t exactly on her list of things she was good at.
“On three,” Marcus said, his voice low.
She lifted her eyes, her heart thudding with a combination of fear and anticipation. “One, two, three, then go? Or one—”
“I love you, Lily.”
“Oh.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Wait, you caught me off guard. That’s not what I meant to say.” She clung to his neck like a barnacle as Marcus grasped her butt in his palms. “Don’t toss me!” she shrieked. “I’ll say it! I’ll say it!”
He lowered her against his chest again, buoying her in the deep water. “You’ve got three seconds.”
She blinked up at him. “But that’s crazy, right? It’s so soon.”
He kissed her, and it was no different from any one of his kisses before, but her heart beat extra hard, her blood pumping extra fast.
“I knew you couldn’t say it,” he said when they parted.
“Can so.”
“Bet you can’t.”
“Bet I can.” She tightened her arms around his neck and leaned in, brushing her nose against his.
His wide, genuine smile warmed her heart. She admired his handsome face in the sunshine and swallowed down her fears. With great risk came great reward.
Marking his lips with a soft kiss, she whispered, “I love you, too, Black.”
He grinned against her mouth.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning his forehead onto hers. “I know.”
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Acknowledgments
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…I wrote a short story for a call for submissions. A little more than a year later, the story sat untouched on my hard drive while my agent continued to sing its praises. The timing wasn’t right until just now, and I’m thrilled Marcus and Lily get their day in the sun!
Thank you, first and foremost, to God, for gracing me with more blessings than I deserve. It’s a bit of heaven on earth, this job. I once read that writing was the act of taking “divine dictation” and I must agree. I am grateful every day for the words that come, even though I’m never exactly sure where they’re coming from.
Readers, it’s thanks to you I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Because of your willingness to spend time reading my words, I have a reason to write them.
Sincerest thanks to my critique partners for the former and current versions of this book. Michele Shaw, for your eagle eye and accuracy in pointing out errors. To Piper Trace: it is with pride I admit that there are a few lines in this story that belong to you. If I can return the favor, please let me know. Lauren Layne, you answer the tough questions. Shannon Richard, you laugh at my jokes (and thank you for letting me use your Donald Duck one).
To my agent, Nicole Resciniti, thank you for loving this story (and Marcus!). You worked for a year to help this book see the light of day, and your comments and editorial remarks were spot-on. Thank you for telling me the original short story had a great big heart. That compliment went a long, long way, and gave me room to grow it into a full-length novel.
Last but most definitely not least, to Liz Pelletier. When I met you at RT 2013, your comment to me was, “Someday…” I’m proud to say that someday is now and If You Dare is my maiden voyage at Entangled! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your editorial comments and your pinpoint honesty.
About the Author
A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.
Jessica is a social media junkie who loves to hear from readers. You can learn more at:
JessicaLemmon.com
Twitter @lemmony
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