LOOKING UP INTO those heavily lashed gray eyes, Dylan promptly forgot everything. The expression in them—wide and a little wild—reminded him vividly of the dreams he’d battled this past week. Dreams that had left him irritable when he woke drenched in sweat, his heart beating like a runaway horse while his muscles quivered with unfulfilled lust.
Annoyed that she’d had the nerve to invade his dreams when she was so determined to avoid him during waking hours, he’d buried himself in work and deliberately avoided thinking about her. And then, just when he’d thought he might be succeeding, he’d looked up from his contemplation of the morning to see her striding across the neighboring deck, dressed in nothing but a baggy T-shirt that drooped off one shoulder and left her long, slender legs naked to mid-thigh.
At first he’d been too busy admiring the flash of those long legs to recognize her. Until her husky voice had slid across his skin like a secret wish and he’d realized his elusive neighbor was the very woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.
And then, alarmed, she’d spun around and with a shocked squeak lost her balance and taken an unexpected morning dip. For one instant he’d worried that she couldn’t swim but she’d surfaced looking so adorably annoyed that he hadn’t been able to help laughing.
His laughter had faded when he’d hauled her out of the drink and caught a good look at the body she’d been hiding beneath her baggy scrubs. With her T-shirt clinging wetly to all those sweet curves and long slender limbs, she’d looked like any red-blooded man’s wildest fantasy.
And while he’d been swallowing his tongue she’d been telling him—no, ordering him—to stop looking. She might as well have ordered the sun to stop shining, because he hadn’t been able to. Hadn’t wanted to, if he was honest. He’d liked what he’d seen—and not just a soaking wet armful of curvy contradictions.
“Dylan?”
He looked up in time to see her tongue dart out to wet her soft lips and the tension that was already setting his teeth on edge soared until the air literally crackled with it.
Blinking away the grinding lust, he inhaled, then exhaled and shifted to relax muscles he hadn’t even realized had hardened. Get a grip, man, he ordered himself, frowning down at his hand gripping her foot. The woman is only here because you practically shanghaied her.
Consciously relaxing his fingers, he said, almost casually, “We’re going to have to deal with this.”
A tremor moved through her and he heard the click of her throat as she swallowed. She was nervous. Of him or of the sexual tension simmering between them?
Her long dark lashes fluttered against her flushed cheek and the breathy little gasp that filled the heated silence answered at least part of his question. It also shot his blood pressure to hell and it was only when she shuddered again that he realized he’d been caressing her instep with his thumb.
Shifting restlessly, she let her gaze briefly touch his before sliding away. She was trying to appear unaffected and failing miserably. It was only fair, he thought with dark amusement. Why should he be the only one struggling to keep his mind off her long naked legs and on her injured foot?
“I...um... I thought we were?”
“I’m talking about this thing between us, Dani,” he pointed out mildly.
A tiny frown marred the smooth skin between her brows. “Thing?” she asked cautiously.
Despite himself, he felt a low rumble resound through his chest. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was amusement, impatience or the sound of a male animal preparing to pounce.
“For lack of a better word,” he drawled, and turned his attention to disinfecting her foot, willing his hard-on to fade before she got an eyeful because he’d pulled his jeans on this morning without bothering to button them.
If she was uncomfortable discussing the chemistry that practically exploded the instant they came within twenty feet of each other, he could only imagine what the sight of his erection would do. No doubt she’d run screaming from the house to jump voluntarily into the bay, he thought with amusement.
Yep. And maybe he’d join her, because he suddenly needed an icy dip himself. It surprised him because it had been a long time since he’d felt the need for cold showers as a way to control himself around women.
Finding comfort in familiar tasks, Dylan prepared a local anesthetic and cleaned a small area of skin with an alcohol swab. He removed the needle cap with his teeth.
“You’ll feel a small pinch,” he murmured, immediately soothing her with his free hand when she gave an involuntary little jolt as the needle pierced her skin.
Cold fingers brushed his lips when she reached up to take the cap, sending hot, achy need spiraling downwards to his gut and digging sharp claws of need into his groin. Jeez, he was in a bad way.
It was humiliating to discover that Dylan St. James, head orthopedic reconstruction surgeon at St. Mary’s, only son of Vivian and Ruben St. James and experienced man about town was being bewitched by a stormy-eyed mermaid he’d rescued from the bay. A mermaid, moreover, who’d been doing her best to run in the opposite direction ever since she’d practically fallen at his feet.
Dylan swallowed his dignity along with his ego—which was something she appeared to deflate with annoying regularity. And if he wasn’t mistaken she didn’t have a clue.
It wasn’t a mystery why his heart pounded and his skin itched as though something alive moved through him. What surprised him was the raw intensity of the need twisting him up inside and messing with his head.
To give himself a moment, he turned away to scrub his hands and pat them dry on a clean towel, hoping like hell she couldn’t see the way they shook.
He doused them with alcohol and studied her bent head. It made him feel marginally better knowing that she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe. It was there in her parted lips, in the rapid-fire pulse at the base of her throat, and when she looked up she couldn’t hide her dilated pupils or the wild flush ebbing and flowing beneath her creamy skin.
He might have put it down to embarrassment or discomfort but she couldn’t hide those sexy little hitches of breath. The ones that twisted his insides like a torquing machine.
Amused at both of them, Dylan selected a pair of tweezers and got to work. He murmured an apology when she flinched and had to bite back a chuckle when she bent her head close to his and demanded, “Is it all out?” and then “What?” a little huffily, at the sound of frustration he made in the back of his throat.
“I’m working here.”
She sniffed haughtily. “And how many splinters do you remove on a daily basis, Dr. Sawbones?”
“Enough to know what I’m doing, Dr. Sassy,” he retorted with a chuckle. “I regularly get to remove bone splinters from bits of mangled flesh. So, yes, I’ve got this.”
She made a skeptical noise in the back of her throat and Dylan had to restrain himself from kissing her sulky mouth. The woman was a contradiction who alternately fascinated, exasperated and amused him. She was in turn remote and cool, brisk and efficient, wary and elusive. And then there was the awkward, easily flustered woman he found incredibly appealing.
Despite the I’m-taking-a-break-from-men attitude, he was experienced enough to know when a woman wanted him. She either didn’t trust her feelings or didn’t want them. And, although it was kind of humbling to discover that the woman he was attracted to didn’t want anything to do with him, he could be patient.
He could wait.
He hoped.
After satisfying himself that he’d removed all the wood slivers, Dylan irrigated and disinfected the wound before laying out the suture kit. He ignored her assurances that she didn’t need stitches, shaking his head at himself when he realized he was trying to impress her with his skills.
If that didn’t tell him he was losing it, nothing would.
Once he’d applied a waterproof dressing he left her muttering to herself about overkill and reached into the shower. He punched a few buttons on the console and then, before she could grasp his intentions he’d whipped off her towel, scooped her off the vanity counter and deposited her in the shower.
Her shocked gasp became a shriek of outrage as icy water rained down on her. “Wha—what the heck are you d-doing?” she spluttered, leaping for the opening and trying to squirm past him.
He caught her with an arm around her waist, grinning down into her indignant face. “Just relax—it’ll warm up. Just takes a few seconds.”
“Relax?” she gasped, yanking him inside the cubicle and trying to use his body to shield her from the spray. “How c-can anyone relax in minus twenty d-degrees w-water?”
Trying to get a grip on her slick, squirming body, Dylan didn’t feel the blast of icy water cascading over his heated flesh. Probably because all those sweet curves were sliding over him. Pulling her closer, he enjoyed the way she burrowed close and pressed her face into his throat. Although he knew it was mostly to escape the icy blast that was finally heating up. Her cool lips brushed his hot skin but his satisfaction turned into a yelp when she opened her mouth and...bit him.
The erotic pain sent instant lust clawing at his self-restraint, digging deep and snapping the last of his control. He couldn’t have stopped what happened next to save himself.
In an instant he’d pushed her up against the tiles, his body a hard weight against hers. A startled squeak had barely left her lips when he caught her mouth in a kiss so hot and hungry it rivaled the steam filling the cubicle. He took a moment to acknowledge that he should probably get the hell away from her but he hadn’t ever felt this kind of desperation to touch, to taste, to feel a woman before.
Needing to get closer, he pushed one thigh between hers, at the same time thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She made little mewling sounds and slid her hands up his arms to clutch at his shoulders. He distantly comprehended that although she wasn’t shoving him away, she wasn’t pulling him closer either.
It was as though she’d been stunned by the heat and ferocity of his mouth. He was kind of surprised himself, since he’d never before grabbed a woman and practically inhaled her in one swoop. At the realization he abruptly gentled the kiss, corralling the wild hunger gripping him to slide his mouth temptingly along the length of hers.
This, he thought sampling the subtle flavors of her mouth, the texture of her skin, was worth the time he’d waited—was worth reining in the need pounding through him.
He tormented her with little nibbles that gradually softened her mouth and coaxed a trembling response. God, she tasted good, he thought, sliding his tongue against hers. Like deep, wet kisses on hot silky nights; like cool fresh water after being out in the African sun all day; like some delicate new flavor that burst on his tongue and left him wanting, needing more.
Then she moaned—a low, husky sound that had him breaking off the kiss to drop his forehead to the tiles while he struggled to get his lust under control.
What the hell was he doing? he asked himself, trying to ignore the soft, sexy curves pressed against him until not even an idea could pass between their bodies. And what must she think of him, turning all wild and savage on her?
He knew he should move but he couldn’t make himself. He’d wanted the feel of her against him for too long. It made him shudder when he’d never shuddered for a woman before.
Unable to keep his hands off her, he moved back a couple of inches and curled one hand around the back of her neck. Nudging up her chin with his thumb, he rasped, “Tell me.”
As though coming out of a trance, Dani blinked up at him. She looked as stunned and aroused as he felt, and so damn beautiful his chest and gut tightened.
Her mouth trembled as it opened and closed before she managed a croaked, “Wha—what?”
Dropping his gaze to her mouth, he couldn’t resist swiping his thumb across that plump bottom lip. “Tell me to go, Dani,” he murmured, leaning forward to nibble on that soft pillow of flesh. “And I will.” He didn’t want to but he would. “Say the word and I’m gone.”
Dazed eyes stared into his as though she wasn’t quite certain what he was asking her. “I...uh...”
Then her gaze dropped to his mouth and got stuck there for a couple of beats before she made an unconscious move, her body drawn to his in spite of herself.
Her hands relaxed on his shoulders, drawing her gaze, as though she’d only just become aware that her fingers were digging into his flesh. She gave a soft murmured apology and smoothed the marks her nails had made before trailing heat across his deltoids and pecs with her fingertips.
Her hands halted just below his nipples, then slowly spread wide, the tips of her fingers brushing each tight bud. Her tongue sneaked between her lips and he jolted, as though she’d leaned forward and swiped her tongue across his flesh.
He briefly closed his eyes and prayed for control, because the sight of those pale, elegant hands on his tanned skin and the way she was looking at him, as if he was a decadent dessert, unraveled him faster than a tumble down a flight of stairs.
It was the first time she’d touched him voluntarily and he couldn’t stop his flesh from rippling—couldn’t prevent the shudder that began at the nape of his neck and buried itself in the base of his spine.
The sight of those delicate hands also forced him to acknowledge just how small she was, how fragile she looked against his bulk.
And how perfectly she fitted him.
He’d never been aggressive with women, either sexually or physically, preferring to coax and charm rather than to bully. And because his instinct now was to conquer and slay he forced himself to wait and watch, while she studied the contrast between her pale hands and his tanned skin.
He wanted her to make the next move—felt compelled to let her make it without overt pressure from him. Because he knew instinctively that she needed to feel she had a choice, that she had control when control was an illusion for both of them.
A wild flush bloomed beneath her skin and her breath hitched in her throat before she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his hot skin. “Stay,” she murmured, her tongue emerging to flick delicately against his nipple. “I want you to stay.”
He felt that teasing touch like the flick of a whip and a growl of pure need rumbled through his chest. Spearing his fingers in her wet hair, he tilted her face to his. Her lashes lifted and her gaze was dark and turbulent and sweetly seductive.
And he was lost.
Before Dani could grasp that she’d made the decision for him to stay Dylan was kissing her with such heat and hunger she felt her toes curl. She’d never had a toe-curling kiss before—one that drew her in, lifted her up on her toes and pulled a line of fire right through the center of her body, as if he was drawing out her soul along with the air in her lungs.
Her skin, exquisitely and almost painfully sensitive, prickled at the wet scrape of denim between her thighs and made her moan. She shifted restlessly, moaning inside his mouth as muscles deep in her core clenched spasmodically.
He was fully aroused, his erection a huge bulge behind his zipper, hard and insistent as it pressed into her belly. It made her hollow places clench with a need she’d never felt before. She wanted him—wanted the momentary madness that he offered, a madness that would end her four-year drought.
Tugging on his lip with her teeth, she shivered with excitement. She could finally taste him and touch him all over. She could have him thrust into her body and take care of all those pesky needs that made her so miserably aware of just what she was missing by being on the wagon. Needs she hadn’t felt in more than four long years.
She could have him. And then she’d be good for another four years.
The heavy ache that settled at the apex of her thighs had her defenseless against the sensations pouring through her. Oh God, she thought, sliding her hands up to his solid shoulders. All she could think was I want.
He was everywhere—a solid heated package of muscle and testosterone that filled her head with the warm damp smell of aroused man and her body with a sudden and pounding need. His surgeon’s hands slid down her arms until they engulfed hers. Palms sliding against hers, he laced their fingers and pinned her hands to the tiles beside her head. The long, hard muscles in his thigh flexed, nearly melting her hair.
Damn, she thought faintly. He knew exactly how to make her blood heat and her mind scatter. It was there in the wicked gleam of his eyes, the sinful curve of his smile. He knew exactly where she ached, exactly where she needed him.
And he wasn’t above using the knowledge to make her burn.
Her arms were pinned beside her head and the position arched her back, thrusting out her breasts like a sensual offering. She wanted him to touch her, yearned for that clever mouth to close over her aching flesh.
Frustrated by his barely there caresses, Dani shifted restlessly. She writhed against the long, thick hardness pressed to her belly, hoping to shred his control as he was shredding hers. The wanting was too painful, slicing deep and stripping away her inhibitions.
Ignoring her frustrated moans, Dylan laid a trail of kisses, sending lush sensations rolling through her as he embarked on a meandering path down her throat. He paused to suck sections of skin into his hot mouth before moving on, leaving behind a prickly, slow-spreading heat.
Despite her huffing pants, her restless movements and murmured demands, he refused to be rushed, moving from one erogenous zone to the next, ratcheting up her frustration levels until she wanted to scream.
Pinned against the wall, with solid muscle preventing her movements, Dani panted and shuddered, helpless against the onslaught of his lips and tongue and teeth. The melting eroticism left her weak, left her breath sighing between her parted lips as he thrust her into a firestorm of sensations, a world of kisses, taunting touches and a desperate burn.
Her resistance—had she really thought she had any against him?—lay in tatters, swirling down the drain along with the silky slide of water. She wanted... Her breathing quickened as she admitted to herself that she wanted this. Wanted him. Here. Now. Up against the wall.
She wanted fast and furious, and then she wanted slow and deep and languorous. And then maybe she’d be able to walk away.
“Dani...” The sound of her name—deep and thrillingly rough—pulled her from her lovely sensual haze. Skin buzzing, she lifted lazy lashes to find him barely an inch away, his green eyes stark and heavy-lidded with a look she barely recognized.
“Tell me this is what you want,” he ordered in a voice rough with lust.
She blinked water from her eyes and opened her mouth but nothing emerged—even though the voice inside her head was screaming, Yes, dammit! Don’t stop now!
Arching her back, she pressed her full length against him but he held himself rigidly away from her and his voice, when it came, was laced with utter steel. “In two seconds I am going to strip you naked,” he growled. “I’m going to lick every inch—and I mean every inch—of your body.” He swooped down to score his teeth along the tendon in her neck. “And then,” he murmured, sliding his tongue along the same path, “I’m going to take you to bed and rock your world so hard you’re going to forget about your man embargo and fall off the wagon with me.”
His words sent a shudder through her. “I... I...” She swallowed back the embarrassing stutter and gasped. “Don’t...” she panted, her hands curling into fists in his grip as muscles deep in her core pulsed. “Don’t stop.”
With a low laugh and a rough curse Dylan dragged the wet T-shirt over her head. Even before the sodden fabric hit the floor his mouth closed over her breast with thrilling possession. She yelped at the rough scrape of his teeth on her nipple, arching into the wet heat of his mouth.
Sensation rolled through her like a hurricane and something unfamiliar, hidden deep, unfurled, stretched and tautened. For one shocking instant she thought she would climax. But that was impossible. She’d never...couldn’t...
Oh God!
As though sensing her impending release, Dylan immediately backed off, his soothing hand smoothing up her thigh to cup her bottom. His fingers dug in, gripped, kneaded, the rough jerky movements revealing his rising agitation.
He released her wrists, rasping, “God, you’re sweet,” against her mouth before dropping to his knees, chasing the goose bumps his words sent skittering across her skin with his mouth.
Weak and dizzy, Dani clutched at him, the only solid presence in a world that dipped and tilted beneath her feet. His tongue took a fiery path between her heaving breasts and across her belly where he lingered to circle her shallow belly button before dipping beneath the narrow band of her damp panties.
Eyes glowing like emeralds in his darkly sensual face, he looked up the length of her body, making Dani’s heart give a spasmodic jerk. With his mouth an inch away from her liquid heat she had a blinding epiphany that this might not be something she would recover from—that it might not be easily extinguished, easily forgotten.
Then her head dropped back against the tiles with a muffled thunk...and she surrendered.
From his position at her feet, Dylan took in her unconscious eroticism. With her body arched, her head thrown back and a look of intense pleasure transforming her flushed face she looked startlingly beautiful. And impossibly aroused.
He reveled in the knowledge that he had brought her to this point. That just a touch of his mouth—right there between her legs—would send her flying off the edge. And in that instant he felt the earth rock beneath him because despite her natural sensuality it was as though she was discovering pleasure for the first time. With him.
His hands shook and he forced himself to slow down. He wanted to give more—wanted to make her yearn as well as burn. He wanted to hear her cry out and then he wanted to watch her shatter.
Curling his shaking fingers in the narrow pink band at her hips, Dylan slowly drew her panties down her long legs, fighting against the need to rush. Once he’d tossed them aside he lifted one slender leg over his shoulder, gripped her thighs, and put his mouth on her—right where she was hot and wet and needy.
At the touch of his mouth Dani gave a strangled yelp and felt his lips curl against her. His mouth. Oh God, his mouth... Stroking, kissing, licking, nibbling every inch of her until she thought she would go up in flames.
She fisted his hair, anchoring herself even as she rocked against his mouth. “Dylan...” she gasped, her need abruptly flaming out of control, shoving her rudely to the edge before she was ready. “I... I’m going to—Oh!”
Pleasure burst out of her with shocking ease as he sent her hurtling off the edge. Her knees gave way and she might have slithered into a boneless heap if he hadn’t risen to his feet and crushed her against him. Dazed and languid by the force of her climax, Dani could only shudder helplessly and cling.
That had been...it had been... Well, she didn’t have words. Only feelings. Feelings that were still rippling through her body like aftershocks.
When she could finally feel her feet she shifted languorously, rubbing her body restlessly against his—because, as amazing as it had been, she wanted more. She wanted it all.
Lifting her head, she caught a flash of white teeth that was smug and sexy as hell and told her more clearly than words that he’d watched her lose it. All that masculine satisfaction had a fiery blush working its way up her neck because he’d had his mouth on her, he’d watched her...
Oh boy.
Abruptly needing to turn the tables on all that male arrogance, she reached between them to cup the large bulge straining the placket of his soaked jeans and was gratified by the sharp breath he sucked in. His flesh grew and hardened beneath her hand, sending a feminine thrill surging through her.
It was a rush to feel how her touch affected him.
“Not here,” he rasped, covering her hand with his larger one and pressing hard before gently pulling away.
It was the last thing Dani wanted. “But...” she protested, curling her fingers around the buttons. “I’ve never had shower sex before.”
He gave a rough laugh and captured her hand, lifting it to press a kiss in the center of her palm. “What do you call what just happened?”
Surprised by the gesture, she found her hand curling around the hard line of his jaw. The rasp of his beard-roughened jaw against her skin sent heat flashing right between her legs. “But you—”
“Can wait,” he interrupted, stepping back to fumble at his jeans with shaking hands.
“But—”
“No condom,” he panted, shoving his jeans down his legs.
And then all Dani could do was stare. Because he was gorgeous. And—she shivered—and he’d been walking around commando...
With the water flowing over him he looked like an ancient warrior, big and bad and just a little bit dangerous as he rose, lifting his hands to wipe his face. Not knowing where to look first, because there was just so much to see and touch, Dani reached out blindly, her hand curling around the huge erection jutting between them.
He inhaled harshly, his eyes blazing heat as they caught hers. The message in them was plain: his control was hanging by a thread and she was playing a dangerous game.
Excitement shuddered through her and she tightened her grip. His eyes darkened and dropped to watch her slender fingers wrap around his bulky girth and test his heft.
It was no wonder women sighed when he walked past. Fascinated with the feel of him in her hands, Dani licked her lips. Because more than anything she wanted to taste him as he had tasted her.
Then he staggered and with a rough curse braced himself against the wall behind her. Tipping back his head, he closed his eyes. And in that moment, as Dani watched, a dull flush stained the hard slash of his cheekbones and she understood sexual power. She held it in her hands. It was there in the stark need that tightened his features.
The breath sawing from his lungs, Dylan thrust slowly into her hand before finally pulling back.
She made a sound of protest and tightened her grip. “No, I—”
Roughly turning her to face the wall, he lifted her hands to press her palms against the tiles. And just like that once again the balance shifted.
“Soon,” he promised, opening his mouth against her neck to suck a patch of skin into his mouth. “I want to be deep inside you when I come.”
His words made her shiver in anticipation and dread—because this was where she felt inadequate. But then he smoothed his hand from the nape of her neck to the dip in her spine and everything but the need to feel him thrusting into her body slid away.
Thinking he meant to take her from behind, Dani braced herself and waited with bated breath, groaning in disappointment and startled pleasure when his fingers dug into her scalp instead.
With slow, massaging hands he washed her hair and then her body, making her sigh with pleasure, tremble with renewed arousal and cry out when he cupped her breasts or slid long, talented fingers between her legs.
When she was a quivering mass of unfulfilled longing he drew her from the shower and wrapped her in a large bath towel. Floating on a cloud of exquisite arousal, she felt him swing her up into his arms, feeling too wonderful to do more than hook a limp arm around his neck and sink her teeth into the ball of his shoulder.
What was it about him that made her want to bite him?
He deposited her gently on his bed and she roused herself briefly—only to clutch him and utter a low moan when his big, hard body followed, pressing her into the mattress with his delicious weight and inserting one hard, hair-roughened thigh between hers.
Arching her back and rocking languorously, she hummed in pleasure. It took an inordinate effort to lift her lashes. Barely an inch away, his handsome face was etched in stark lines of need, his gaze as fiercely intense as it was possessive.
“Now...” he murmured, dipping his head to nip her chin, the gentle curve between her neck and shoulder and then to swipe his tongue along her clavicle. “Now I can taste you everywhere.”
Then he closed his mouth over the tip of one breast and flung her abruptly back into mindless pleasure.
Clutching the sides of his head, Dani struggled to remember why she’d thought this was a bad idea. It was wonderful, and so amazingly intense that she wanted to sink under the weight of it. Give herself to it. Let herself go. Take him with her.
But just when she felt herself sliding under his sensual spell panic, greasy and insistent, fought its way to her consciousness. Because now that they were here, on his bed, they were heading in an irrevocable direction. A direction that usually ended in disappointment.
Her heart clutched—and not in a good way. She stiffened. She had to tell him...had to stop him.
“Dylan.”