Chapter Twenty

Sunshine looked good on Izzy. Too bad they didn’t get more of it in Captivity, but the day’s gray drizzle had cleared on the drive home from the clinic and now he admired her, standing on the deck off his bedroom, arms folded on the railing, watching the big ball of fire slide free of orange-soaked clouds to scatter amber onto the water in the harbor. Peace looked good on her, too. For once, she showed no signs of the nervous energy that often propelled some part of her into motion. She simply leaned into the moment and absorbed the view.

Warm light bathed her, bounced off golden highlights in her hair. Hair she’d taken down from her usual updo. It fell past her shoulders in a silky cascade over her plush, tan sweater. Skinny, black jeans and low black boots with high heels turned her legs into endless enticements. Then again, everything about her enticed him. The events of the afternoon receded like a bad dream—a misfire of his mental circuits caused by unresolved guilt, too much exertion, and not enough sustenance. But sustenance came in many forms, and the woman before him currently topped his list.

She outclassed his gray sweats and long-sleeved T-shirt by miles, but hey, at least he was showered. Figuring it never hurt to be prepared, he stopped at his nightstand and slipped a condom into the pocket of his sweats. When he stepped out onto the deck and drew up beside her, he saw she wasn’t calmly taking in the view as he’d assumed. Her eyes were closed. She rested her wrists on the rail, palms up, thumb and middle finger of each hand lightly touching.

He edged closer. “What are you doing?”

She expelled a breath and shook her head. “Nothing.” With an impatient sigh for herself, she opened her eyes and glanced at him. “I was trying to meditate—focus on my mantra and clear my mind of all extraneous thoughts.”

Her busy mind? Clear of thoughts? Good luck with that. “How’d it work out for you?”

“Not well.” Sighing, she faced the view and gripped the rail. “I chose ‘Ananda’ for my mantra, because it means ‘bliss,’ but as I repeated it in my mind, over and over, it started to sound more like ‘anaconda,’ which made me think about how much I don’t like snakes, and then I started wondering if there are any snakes in Alaska. Now, on top of all my other stress, I’m stressed about artic snakes.”

“Well, I can relieve your stress on that point. There are no wild snakes in Alaska. Not a lot of reptiles in general. We have bears, wolves, and aggressive geese, but no arctic snakes.”

He’d hoped to coax a smile from her, but she merely shrugged and continued staring at the cove. “That’s one less thing to worry about, I guess.”

Running fingertips over the white knuckles of the hand closest to him, he leaned closer to her. “I’m sure we can come up with a better way to relieve your stress than meditation.”

Now her brows arched, and she aimed a skeptical glance his way. “What did you have in mind, man under doctor’s orders to take it easy?”

“Wanna go chase some geese?”

“Ha. Not even a little.” She resumed looking out at the view, but her weak smile told him she appreciated his attempt at levity.

He touched her cheek and waited until her eyes locked on his. “Why are you stressed?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Those big, brown eyes went jittery. “Maybe because my client passed out today for no concrete reason, and he’s selling his interest in his airfield, and I’m worried that these events are connected?”

They were, but not in the way she feared, though her concern warmed some part of his heart he hadn’t realized needed warming. “Izzy.” He cupped her cheek and looked at her without blinking. “I’ve never passed out before. Today was a first, and I’m one-hundred percent confident that Dr. D has it right. I didn’t get enough rest, I didn’t eat and drink enough, and I burned too much energy.”

“Or you have a serious health issue, and you don’t want the rest of us to know about it.”

A laugh probably wasn’t the right response, but he couldn’t help it. “Wow. You are stressing.” He stroked her cheek. “I don’t have a serious health issue. I’d know. I have to pass a physical every year for my pilot medical certificate.” No physical health issue, at any rate. His mental health was a whole different subject. One he wasn’t getting into with her, or anyone.

She didn’t smile in return. Clearly, this wasn’t a laughing matter to her. But she did lift her hand to his cheek, brushed his beard. “Do you promise?” Dark eyes skewered him. “Do you promise what happened today had nothing to do with you wanting to sell your interest in Captivity Air?”

Again, it did, but not in the way she feared. Hoping to deflect rather than lie, he tipped his head and smiled at her. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”

Her serious expression didn’t budge. “Of course I’m worried.”

She was, and it made him feel weaselly. “Don’t. Your goals aren’t in danger. This deal is going to happen. We’re going to close it. You’re going to make partner. It’s all going to work out.”

Now her expression changed. Serious eyes shifted into…something else. Something that set fire to the gold flecks in the deep brown and had them blazing. She stepped back. “That’s not what I’m worried about, you ass.”

No, God save them, she was worried about him. She honestly cared. Above the job, which frankly, should have been her number one concern, above the sex, she cared about his well-being. He closed the distance she’d tried to put between them, backing her up against the balcony rail. “I know. Bad joke. I’m sorry.” It was either lie or confess more than he wanted to admit even to himself. He chose the lie, which would make everything easier on everyone. “What happened today has nothing to do with my decision to sell my interest in the airfield. I swear.”

The sharp-eyed attorney stared up at him. He held fast to the superficial truth of his statement. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her because she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Promise?”

“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “No more stressing, okay?”

Her brows lifted. “It was a stressful afternoon, don’t you think?”

Absolutely. But he shrugged. “It might have been worse. According to Wing and Jorg, I could have been abducted and probed by three-tit aliens.” He pretended to shiver. “I tell you, it’s enough to make a man meditate.”

“I don’t recommend it. Besides, I think the real stress reliever is this view.” She turned, inhaled deeply, and leaned on the railing to take in the green treetops tumbling to the cove. Ripe rays of sunlight splashed over the water. She took another deep breath and her shoulders relaxed. When she turned to him, she smiled. “I love your view.”

“It’s beautiful,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. He trailed his fingers through the sweep of hair that waved back from her temple, then traced his thumb along her lower lip. Her smile wobbled, her eyes widened, and she blushed. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Amused that a woman who freely admitted she’d hoped to go wild in Captivity turned pink at a simple compliment, he turned her to face the view, wrapped his arms around her, tucked her head under his chin, and prepared to enjoy this bundle of contradictions fate had dropped into his world. “I just happen to appreciate the view tonight more than usual.”

She craned her neck to look at him. “I think maybe Dr. Devan misdiagnosed you. I’m worried you have a traumatic brain injury affecting your vision and possibly your judgment.”

Skimming a hand under her sweater, he pressed his palm to the smooth, warm skin of her abdomen and brought his mouth to her ear. “There’s nothing wrong with my brain, my vision, my judgment, or any other part of me.” To prove the point, he rocked his hips and nudged her backside with one exceedingly healthy part.

Her breath hitched, but she eased forward to put some space between them and turned to face him. “Dr. Devan ordered plenty of rest, remember?” She scanned his face. “How are you feeling? For real.”

“Fine.”

Like slipping inside you while the sun slips below the horizon, and watching you light up in my arms as the first stars light up the sky.

Unfortunately, like everyone else, Izzy had gone caretaker on him. She’d driven home cautiously, as if she’d had a spun glass statue in the passenger seat rather than a flesh and bone man. Once home, she’d sat him down in the kitchen and fixed him breakfast-for-dinner with the food on hand. While he appreciated a home-cooked meal that he didn’t have to cook, and feely admitted the scrambled eggs, bacon and toast hit the spot—and he remained silently grateful she hadn’t limited him to the egg white and spinach omelet she’d whipped up for herself—he really needed to find a way to shift her out of nurse mode and into fuck buddy mode before he had any hope of making his sunset fantasy come true.

“Good. That’s good. Speaking of which, I got some good news today. I should have shared it earlier, but things got a little hectic.” Her lips curved as she spoke, but the smile seemed forced, and her gaze settled somewhere over his shoulder. “It’s about the deal.”

Well, damn. Ideally, he’d keep her out of lawyer mode, too. He was about to suggest they talk about it later, but she didn’t wait for his reply. “The buyer likes what we’ve shown him so far and is anxious to move forward. They’ve streamlined the list of documents they wanted to evaluate, so now there are only a handful of items to gather and send. Additionally, the attorney is putting together a revised term sheet and draft purchase agreement as we speak. We should have both soon. Apparently, he wants to fast-track things.”

His stomach took a barrel roll, which made no sense because, as Izzy had said, this was good news. “How fast?”

The forced smile returned. “Two weeks is the goal.”

The barrel roll became a dive. Almost reflexively, he tightened his arms around her. “Two weeks? Holy shit, that’s… I haven’t even seen the purchase agreement. It could take me an entire week just to read and understand the thing. Page after page of terms and conditions? It’s all new to me.”

“It’s okay.” She stepped closer to him and curled her hands above his elbows. “Two weeks is their goal. I can slow things down. You’re entitled to a reasonable amount of time to understand and weigh every aspect of the deal before committing.”

“Slow it down.” Way slower. “I don’t like this motherfucker rushing me.”

“I’ll reset their expectations. They might push back, but that’s all it is—pushback. I doubt stretching their timeline by a week or so will motivate them to walk away. Their eagerness signals the opposite, frankly. They’ll capitulate to more of our requests in order to get it done.” Her eyes found his. “Will you promise me one thing?”

Anything. “What can I promise you, Izzy?”

“Promise me you’re not slowing things down because you’re having second thoughts. If you are, we need to be upfront about that. They’re incurring legal fees, as are you. Things are still in play right now, so there’s no bad faith in backing out.”

“I don’t want to back out.” He didn’t. He’d made mistakes that had borne tragic consequences. He had regrets—plenty of them—and enough guilt to choke his heart but selling his interest in the airfield and putting the operation in larger, more competent hands ensured he wouldn’t fail anyone again.

She ran her hands up his arms, soothing. “There’s no bad faith in saying you want to hit pause for a few months. Maybe get through the high season without the distraction of the potential sale, and maybe take some time to discuss your intentions with Bridget? You have a lot at stake here, after all.”

Some newly born part of him wanted to jump at her suggestion. She had a gift for making whatever she said seem reasonable. But a louder, more established part of him sounded alarms at the idea of dragging things out. This deal provided him his exit, and he needed it. Badly. Hadn’t this afternoon proved that? And what about Izzy? She had needs and goals, as well. “You have a lot at stake, too. A partnership, for one, which you’ve worked hard to earn. What would happen to that if I pressed pause?”

Her casual shrug didn’t fool him, nor her breezy, “I’d take the matter up with Chuck.” The worry in her eyes suggested she believed she’d be passed over. Whether that was true or not, why put her through it? For his own peace of mind, he needed to sell, and she deserved to get everything due to her out of the deal.

“I don’t want to put the sale on hold.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to—”

He cut her off with a kiss and put a lot of effort into the nonverbal change of topic. He didn’t want to talk about the deal anymore. They had better things to do. Easing out of the kiss by degrees, he looked into her soft brown eyes. “I just want to go slower.” Finding an unhurried smile for her, he went on, “Sometimes, with some things, I like to go slow. You know?”

“I don’t.” Her eyelashes took a busy flutter, and her color came up when he slid a hand into the back pocket of her jeans. She looked at him from beneath her lowered lashes. “I’m usually revving at a thousand miles an hour, even when I’m standing still.”

“Are you revving right now?” He already knew the answer. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest.

“I think I might be.” Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fiddled with his hair.

“Let’s do something about that.” He sank his other hand into her other pocket and pressed her closer. His cotton sweats offered her a big hint of what he had in mind.

She swallowed at the hint but looked up at him nervously. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Do you feel that Izzy?” He took her hand and pressed it firmly to the bulge in his sweats. “I’m definitely up to it. But”—he moved her hand to his chest when she would have lingered, then took her by the waist and switched their positions so he leaned back against the railing—“I don’t want you to miss the sunset. Sunsets in Captivity are a time-tested way to slow down.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “Relax.” Brushed her lips again as they parted for him but withheld his tongue. “Enjoy the moment.”

A little sound of frustration vibrated in her throat and set off an empathetic vibration in his balls. “Patience, Izzy. We’re taking things slow.” Just to punish them both, he denied her lips and put his teeth and tongue to work on the sensitive skin below her ear. With two hands on his chest now, she arched against him.

“I don’t know if I can,” she protested. “Things are already happening. So fast.”

God, she killed him. Pushing his leg between hers, he murmured, “What’s happening fast?”

She moaned and rocked herself against his thigh. “Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He got a hand under her ass and lifted her a little higher, bringing her onto her toes. Letting her really straddle his thigh. “Be specific.”

“I’m hot,” she gasped out. “Wet.” Two hands fisted in his shirt and she shifted against him. “Restless.”

“Needy?” he suggested, loving the desperate way she moved on him. The way she used what he gave her to try and ease the need.

“Worse than need.” Her lips moved against his throat. “It hurts.”

It did. His cock cosigned to that. The best kind of hurt, to his mind, worthy of stretching out as long as possible, but the situation for women was a lot less all-or-nothing, and he didn’t have it in him to ignore the plea in her voice. “Let me help ease the pain.” He lifted her higher, so her toes left the deck, and rocked her on his thigh.

“Oh…”

He rocked her again, held her there while she snuck in a series of fast, frenzied grinds. A flurry of words tumbled out of her like a desperate confession. “I’ve never been so…it’s never been so…” He rocked her once more, with a bounce at the end, and her body tensed, then shivered. Her climbing “soooo…” broke and dissolved into a long, low moan. “Easssy.” Her body went limp against him. “So easy,” she panted. “You make it so easy.”

“Consider me your sure thing,” he joked, moving his lips over her temple. After a full minute of simply holding her and letting her catch her breath, she tipped her head, speared her fingers in his hair, and tugged his mouth down to claim it with a fierce, grateful kiss.

He drank in all her appreciation. Laved it from deepest recesses of her mouth, licked it from the perfect little edges of her teeth, sucked it like honey from her tongue. When the fingers in his hair twisted tight, and she sighed into his mouth, he eased back and whispered, “After all that, now I’m hurting, too.”

Her soft laugh was a thousand times sexier than she’d ever know. “That can’t be good. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t rest when I’m all worked up like this. It’s impossible. I’m going to need your help.”

“I promised Dr. Devan I’d take care of you. Let’s go inside and—”

“No, no. I don’t want you to miss the sunset. Let’s stay right here.” He carefully put her back on her feet, then reached between them and unsnapped her jeans. Wide eyes looked up at him. “Here?”

“Here,” he confirmed and lowered her zipper. Done with that chore, he knelt and unzipped her boots.

“In the open, in daylight?”

“Who’s going to see?” He pulled one boot off, then the other.

“I don’t know. A neighbor might drive by on the lower road, look up and—”

“And see me,” he assured her. “They won’t get a glimpse of you through me. But this isn’t L.A., Izzy. We’ve got, like, three neighbors up here. Nobody’s going to drive by.” Standing, he sank his hands into her jeans and pushed them down her legs. Her hands found his shoulders for balance as he crouched and worked her feet free.

Goose bumps rose on her bare legs—partly from the cold, he knew, but also partly, he suspected, from the illicit thrill of outdoor sex. Her sweater hit the tops of her thighs. Curiosity had him lifting the hem to check out her underwear. The tiny, white bit of ornamentation made his mouth water. He leaned in, nuzzled her thighs with his beard, and kissed her through sheer, damp fabric, breathing in her perfume, some fancy laundry detergent, and beneath it all, pure Izzy. Her throaty moan and tiny shiver tortured his cock, but still he took his time. Peeling the thong down her legs, he kissed her again, parted her with his tongue to taste the intoxicating evidence of her first orgasm.

“Trace…” Her hands clamped on his shoulders.

He took his time answering, letting her rising excitement coat his tongue, his lips, dampen his beard. “Hmm?”

“Hurry.”

The single word, delivered urgently, had him torn. She sounded so close to the edge, he considered taking her over again just like this, but then she begged, “Please. Inside me. I come best with you inside me. With you.”

He wanted to give her the best—his best. His body surged with the need to give it. And to take. Rising, straightening, he released her long enough to take the condom from his pocket, shove his sweats down, kick one leg free, and roll the condom on. Then he gripped her hips and hauled her up. “Take it,” he urged. “Take me. Take what you want.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, sounding so heartfelt he didn’t know whether to laugh or groan, but then she struggled a little trying to get her legs arranged so she could do as he’d instructed.

He hitched her higher, brought her chin to eye level. “It’s a solid deck. Go ahead.”

She read his mind and braced a knee along the rail. Her other foot she dug into his calf. He firmed every muscle to make sure she felt secure and cupped her ass in both hands as she curled her fingers around his unbearably sensitive cock. Her touch alone set a fire under his skin. The heat burned in a startling, almost painful opposition to the cold, heavy air. The brutal combination made his cock throb, and he did groan. “Guide me in, Izzy. Put me inside you.”

“I’m trying. I just need to…”

Ready to assist by any means necessary, he lifted her higher. “I want to watch you come as the sun sets. See you glow inside and out.”

“Almost,” she panted. “I’ve almost got it.” She moved him, tugged him, lined him up where she needed him, and then bore down into his hands as she lowered her hips and slowly, slowly took him in.

Slick, tight muscles quickened, hugging and releasing his shaft as her body strove to welcome him. A flush rose to her cheeks. Her eyelids drooped. Her lips parted in a silent whimper. She stilled and clung to him like a limpet. Fearing the experience, for her, might be half pleasure, half pain—not exclusively of the hurts-so-good variety—he locked his molars together to muffle the long, low curse coming from somewhere deep inside and forced himself to hold still. “Find it, baby,” he encouraged, massaging her ass to diffuse the tension inside her. “Find the spot.”

“Ah. Oh… I have to…” She lifted, almost to the point of separation, but then, thank Christ, stopped and reversed course, coming down a little harder, taking him a little deeper. “Oh, Jesus. Okay. That’s good.”

So good a sweat borne of restraint broke out on his forehead, stung his eyes. “That’s my girl. Again.” He boosted her this time, but still let her manage the downward slide. “Set the pace. Show me.”

God love her, she did. She arched up, slid down, arched up again, in quick, jerky undulations. Her head fell back. Long sunbeams played over her face, spotlighting her closed eyes and the tight set of her jaw. The single-minded determination on display caught at him. Ambitious Isabelle had herself a goal and, by God, she was going to give it—give him—her all. But he was going to give her his all, too, and his all tended to be less single-minded and—why the hell not—a little more fun?

“Eyes open, Izzy. You’re missing the sunset.”

“They are open,” she ground out, riding him with her precise motion and timing.

If she wasn’t sending him straight to heaven with each deliberate move of her hips, he might have laughed. Instead, he simply took charge of her hips and interrupted her rhythm, giving her an extra jostle when she would have surged up. She gasped, her hands tightened on his shoulders, and her eyes flew open. The light turned her irises as clear and potent as top-shelf brandy. The sun’s reflection danced there while, beyond them, below them, the heavy sphere sank halfway into the cove.

“Oh, jeez, that is amazing.”

He watched her face. “It is. Don’t look away.” Determined to keep her amazed, he let her resume her efforts. Let everything build and build while the sun slipped lower in her eyes, and her body slipped lower, infinitesimally lower, with every twitch of her hips. When they were both panting, when her skin turned slippery and her whole body began to shake from the climb, he took over. Not a jostle, this time. He locked her hips down and gave her a good, hard, rhythm-busting thrust.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.”

He didn’t let her get it back. “Are you watching?” He thrust again.

“I can’t.”

“Keep ’em open, Izzy.” He thrust again, then lifted her and let her fall back. She seated herself fully, lodging him deep, surrounding him with the fluttering caresses of overstimulated muscles she no longer controlled. He nearly came where he stood. Lifting her once more, he said, “Tell me what you see. What you feel.”

“I see…feel…everything. It’s so perfect. Inside. Outside. I don’t have the words—”

“I know. I know.” And he did know. As he watched her rise up and meet her orgasm like a ship’s figurehead cresting a wave, he knew what it was to hold a perfect moment in his arms. To be surrounded by it. Engulfed in it. To drown in perfection so powerful it swept everything else away.