Wild: Whispering Cove, Book 1 Page 3

  “It’s beautiful. No snow. Yes. I like LA.”

  Hurrah! He scored a multiple-word answer. But he wasn’t a fool. The lie she told stood out like the cove’s shiny lighthouse beacon. Andie had always loved the snow, especially the winters in Maine. She was the only girl he knew who would run barefoot through the cold powder, spin in circles, and then fall back in the white cloud of flurries, laughing.

  At one time, the redhead next to him had had a wild streak in her deeper than the ocean. No one could test boundaries like Andie. No one. Maybe it was the Irish in her, but that’s one of the things that had attracted him.

  In third grade when the others were on the playground as directed, Andie was squeezing her small frame through the hole in the fence to escape to the ocean. Her grandfather used to call her his little mermaid. Quietly Brody chuckled, thinking about how Mrs. Adair would run her fingers through Andie’s hair pretending to look for gills.

  When they came upon the rocky portion of the beach, Andie stumbled over a stone in their path. He had to release her hand long enough to steady her. This time when he reached, intertwining their fingers, she pulled against him, making sure their fastened hands remained along their hips, placing space between them.

  “You enjoy your work?” he asked.

  “Yes. You?”

  Brody smiled because he couldn’t help it. “You know I love Whispering Cove. It’s home. If I can make it better, safer, then I’m happy.”

  Finally, she stared up at him, but he couldn’t read her expression in the shadows before she glanced elsewhere. Either way she still didn’t instigate conversation.

  For the longest time they walked the beach without talking, sand crunching beneath their feet. When Brody couldn’t stand it anymore, he again broke the silence. “Why didn’t you answer my telephone calls or letters?” Not a single one. When Andie left Maine, she severed all ties, at least with him.

  Something had died inside him the summer she left. A year in pursuit of her failed. Even a visit to Los Angeles to speak with her, ask her to come home, had ended poorly. A business trip had taken her to New Orleans. Judging by his arrival and her departure, their paths must have crossed unnoticed in the LAX airport. After that Brody had joined the Marines. When his tour of duty was up, he attempted to call her, facing a clerk insisting that Andie was unavailable. Not contacting her from that point onward had been the hardest thing he had ever done. At times it had nearly killed him.

  “Brody, let’s not go there.” Was it anger or annoyance that made her tone tense?

  “I think I deserve to know.” His feet slowed, pulling them both to a halt. “Did I do something wrong that night?” The threads of his control were unraveling like a pair of old, cutoff jeans. “Tell me, Andie, did you ever love me?”

  Dammit. What they’d had had been special. How could she walk away? Leave him? Like her grandfather, Brody had been more than willing to help her get through the loss of her parents.

  With a sharp tug she jerked her hand out of his. He offered no struggle. Her pale blue eyes appeared black and cold in the twilight.

  “Too much pain.” She glanced away, presenting him with her back. A heartbeat of time passed, and then she whispered, “Yes. I did love you.”

  An invisible force slammed into his chest. He staggered, fighting to breathe. “Did?”

  She hung her head. “Brody, please.” Her hair provided a curtain of defense, blocking her expression.

  When he recovered enough to clearly understand the impact of her words, he glared at her back. “Please what?” His fingers curled into fists. “Forget that you left me. You shattered my heart into a million pieces? Threw away our future? Our lives together?” His jaws locked together to fight back saying something he would regret.

  Andie spun around. Faced him.

  Her silence was a spark to his temper, and red-hot resentment rushed through his veins. He shook with fury, with ten years of unspoken words and unanswered questions. “Or maybe you don’t care to hear how each time I’ve attempted a new relationship, your memory blocked me from taking it to the next level?”

  How about that he couldn’t think of another woman? Couldn’t get Andie’s touch, the feel of her body, out of his fucking head?

  She had been his first true love. He wanted her to be his last.

  Andie started to walk away but he grabbed her arm. “No. Don’t. Please.” Even he heard the desperation in his voice.

  A pregnant pause filled the gap between them.

  The long, low bellow of a horn and then another announced that several fishing boats had taken to the ocean. In the distance their lights flashed red and white. A flight of seagulls squawked overhead and ocean life began to stir. Several crabs crawled across the sand, making their way toward the water’s edge. The shadow of an alley cat appeared from out of nowhere and the chase was on.

  Still the quiet between them remained, until Andie glared at his hand wrapped around her arm. Slowly she raised her gaze to meet his. “Maybe I should leave in the morning.”

  Maybe she should. And maybe, just maybe, she should twist the knife already plunged into his heart and get it over with.

  But the thought of her walking away, of knowing this would be the last time he would ever see her, nearly undid him. Everything inside him screamed to stop her. He wanted to let her go. Free him from the chains she had wrapped around him since they were children, but he couldn’t. If this would be the only chance he had to make things right with her, he would climb mountains and swim oceans to get her back.

  “Andie. Please.”

  Were those tears rolling down her cheeks? “Brody, I didn’t come back to hurt you.”

  The ironic laugh that pushed unexpectedly from his mouth earned him a frown.

  She swiped heatedly at the fallen emotion.

  No. She hadn’t come back to hurt him. Andrea Adair came back to haunt him.

  “I’ll leave in the morning.” As she pivoted to turn, her heels sank into the sand. She stumbled, falling into his arms.

  Brody did the only thing he could. He kissed her.

  Andrea struggled not to respond, her palms plastered against Brody’s chest in an effort to stop him. But the hot, passionate caress of his unyielding mouth welded to hers overloaded her senses and melted any resistance. With quick, sharp movements, he released his hold around her waist to stab his fingers into her hair and cup the back of her head, deepening the kiss. Their teeth clashed, tongues a whirl of motion, sliding along each other, pushing and shoving and tasting.

  She returned his fervor, needing to make at least one memory a reality.

  Broken cries seeped between them. At first Andrea thought the wrenching grief belonged to her. Then she realized the strangling sound was coming from Brody. Beneath her touch he trembled, his breaths short and rapid. His hold on her was tight, too tight.

  Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. Another throaty murmur and then Andrea recognized the sound.

  Pain. Oh God. His pain. It was so deep, so raw it threatened to eat her alive, consumed her.

  Breathless, Andrea tried to pull away, but his fingers closed around her hair. Fear clashed with the sudden sting. “Brody!” When she screamed his name, he released her faster than if she were a hot welding rod.

  Taking several hasty steps backward, she stood there staring at him, her heart pounding. The hint of morning peeking over the waves provided just enough light for her to see his eyes were bright and moist, rimmed red with despair. Features so tight they appeared brittle, as if they would shatter like glass at any moment.

  Brody hurt. And she had been the catalyst for his suffering.

  “Please, And—” Choppy breaths stole her name from his mouth. “Don’t.” The vein down the center of his forehead bulged close to bursting with tension. “I need to touch you.”

  His plea made her chest ache. If she had had a heart it would have broken.

  “Please, Andie, don’t walk away from me.”

  Dammit
.

  Her chin quivered. His sorrow was too much for her to bear.

  Then a single tear rolled down his cheek.

  Control slipped through her fingers like running water. She reached for him—a need to end his suffering.

  In his haste to close the distance between them, a piece of driftwood tangled in his feet. On his descent, Andrea caught him, but it was too late. Both of them were going down. The impact of the sandy ground jarred her, but it was Brody’s weight landing atop her that forced an unladylike grunt.

  Lying beneath him, the hard length of him pressed to her belly, she managed a chuckle. “I don’t remember you being so heavy.”

  “Was that a fat joke?” His jest held no humor, but at least he was trying. But there was no denying the wariness in his eyes. It left no doubt in her mind he still expected her to refuse him. But Andrea knew something he didn’t.

  She wanted him.

  Too many memories and lonely nights. No one to hold her when she cried. In the remaining ashes of the night, she would take whatever he offered, because it would have to last her a lifetime.

  Disappointment rushed over her when he shifted, rolling off her to lie on his side. Yet when he draped a leg over hers like he had done so many times before, she found herself smiling.

  Brushing a few errant strands of hair from her eyes, he leaned down and kissed her, soft and gentle. “I love you, Andie.” His tone was hoarse and filled with emotion.

  I love you too perched on the tip of her tongue. Desperately she wanted to say the words, but held them back. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve happiness.

  He kissed her again, this time trailing his lips down her neck. The area just behind her ear was one of her erogenous zones. And Brody knew it, nipping her earlobe before laving the sensitive area with his tongue.

  Chills raced across her skin. Her breasts grew heavy with need, nipples taut and achy. She angled her head to the side, providing him more access. Praying he wouldn’t stop.

  Heat bathed the wetness as he whispered, “Let me love you.”

  The image his words painted in her mind sent a tremor snaking throughout her. Moisture dampened her thighs with the heady thought of him parting them and thrusting hard and fast. Loving her like only he could.

  It was one of those drug campaign moments when she should have just said no, but she swallowed hard. “I’d like that.”

  Air rushed out from between his parted lips, as if he had held his breath awaiting her answer. Then he tugged at the tails of her shirt, dislodging the garment from her skirt. With expert skill he plucked each button. When they were all unfastened he laid the edges wide, displaying her white, lacy bra.

  A cool breeze was a shock against her exposed skin, but it felt good. With a single finger he traced the edges of the bra, palming the exposed mounds so that tingles radiated through the tips of her breasts, forcing a whimper from her. The slight sound blew away any doubt that she wanted what he offered, because he smiled and Andrea knew Brody was back.

  She reached for him, circling her arms around his neck, and pulled him to her. Their lips touched and electricity sparked between them, hot and fiery. Andrea had missed his kiss and absolutely everything else about this man.

  As she took her time tasting and exploring his mouth, her skirt began to slowly rise. The warmth of Brody’s palms on her legs smoothing upward, the sudden wind coming off the ocean, and the shiver that raked through him when he snagged her panties and pulled them down sent tremors throughout her. The silky scrap of material sinfully caressed her flesh, slipping over her hips, past her thighs and knees, toward her ankles. Her shoes came off first and then the panties, leaving her naked from the waist down and thankful that the afghan lay beneath her bottom.

  When his hand made a slow path along her slit, her knees fell open. With a sense of urgency, she pushed her tongue deep into his mouth, moving in and out, mimicking what she prayed his fingers would soon be doing to her pussy. Several more seeking touches made her arousal climb in anticipation. When he finally shoved a finger inside her, Andrea lost it.

  She tore her mouth from his. “Oh God.” Arching, she bowed her back. “Brody, please.”

  Flames licked across her skin, her body ablaze. His touch felt so good, so damn good. Just having him beside her, the scent of his skin, the heat of his body, was an aphrodisiac, a drug she craved more of.

  A growl vibrated low in his throat, the gravelly sound a dead giveaway that he was as turned-on as she. Nothing had changed. She found comfort in that knowledge.

  As his finger thrust in and out of her slick folds, his other hand slid inside her bra to cup a breast. The second his thumb and forefinger gripped the tender nipple, tugging firmly, shards of sensations splintered and her womb contracted.

  Dipping his head at the same time he sprang her breast free of its confines, his moist mouth closed around the peak, sucking it fiercely.

  White-hot lightning shot from her nipple to her core and sizzled. His lips, teeth and tongue nipped and pulled working her mind into a wild frenzy while below his fingers glided rapidly over her clit. Blood rushed to the bundle of nerves which began to swell and beg for attention. She squirmed beneath his hand, raising her hips to meet each thrust. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

  “I need you inside me.” It was a plea and she didn’t care. All she could think about was his cock buried inside her.

  Sensual lashes lowered lazily to shadow even more sensual eyes. His hands stilled. “I won’t last long if I enter you now. It’s been too long. I’ve missed you too much.”

  Andrea bunched her fingers into his uniform and jerked him so that he fell atop her. “I don’t care. I need you.” She took his mouth with a passion she hadn’t known she still possessed. Her tongue pushed between his lips, feasting and devouring every place it touched. He tasted of life, of a future that could never be.

  The low cry in her throat almost brought tears to her eyes. “Fuck me, Brody. Now.”

  “Andie.” His moan was followed by him once again rolling off her and crawling to his knees. His large hands spread her legs wider, exposing her to his eyes. He looked his fill before he positioned himself between them. The ocean breeze whispered across her wetness, teasing and tantalizing her, but her gaze was on Brody. Soon it would be daybreak and people would pour onto the beaches. The moment—this moment—would be lost.

  The sound of metal against metal clinked as he unfastened his buckle and then his belt. Flicking the button at his waist loose, a hiss followed with the drop of his zipper. In seconds his pants were around his knees.

  Andrea’s eyes widened. At eighteen, Brody hadn’t been quite this big. But now, not only in length but girth, the man was impressive. Beneath his hard stare, another wave of desire released between her thighs.

  Wet. Aroused. And ready.

  She had to have him.

  Brody eased down so that her body cradled his hard erection. The moment his skin touched hers, heat washed over her, causing her to arch. Her hips rose sharply to feel the nudge of his cock breaching her opening. A thousand butterflies fluttered low in her belly and she cried out his name.

  “I’ve dreamt of this.” This time Brody kissed her with a hunger she shared. Throwing his hips forward, he plunged inside her. “Fuck.” The curse exploded from his mouth.

  Andrea couldn’t have expressed it better. The feel of him consuming her body was beyond any dream. It was perfection.

  Strong, warm hands slid beneath her ass, lifting her hips off the blanket, bringing her closer so their bodies were locked together. “Tight. So tight.”

  And then he began to move in a slow, mesmerizing rock.

  Andrea closed her eyes and relaxed, losing herself to the music they made. The slapping of flesh against flesh, soft moans and whimpers joined with the melody of the tide caressing the beach. The scent of their arousal, sweet and hot, filled her senses along with the caress of the damp morning air.

  For the first time in ye
ars, Andrea was complete, whole again.

  “Open your eyes, baby.” His low, baritone voice was a sensual caress in her mind.

  But she didn’t want to open her eyes, break the spell. If this was a dream, she wanted to stay asleep. She wanted it to go on forever.

  “Look at me, Andie.” It wasn’t a request. The gravity in his tone made her eyelids rise. Like a fallen angel he loomed above her. His features were taut, drawn. “I need you to see how good we are together.” He glanced down at where they were joined. “We fit, Andie. We belong together.”

  Brody reared back, almost pulling out, and then slammed into her as if he intended to mark her—brand her his.

  The bittersweet pain made her cry out “Again.” She wanted the symbolism of being his.

  His nostrils flared. His eyes grew dark.

  He eased back and plunged forward with such an impact that he hit the back wall of her pussy and struck just the right spot. “Oh God.” Tingles made the muscles inside her contract. Steadying her breathing, she fought the inevitable, wanting to hang on to the feel of him inside her a little longer.

  Yet when he began to fuck her hard and fast, the burning pleasure built, climbing higher and higher. She writhed beneath him. Her fingers fumbled, trying to grasp him, anything that would ground her.

  But it was too late.

  There was no control left for either of them. Hard, penetrating lunges tore a scream from her throat and he cried out, joining her. A shower of sensations hit her with a whiplash of heat. Her body jerked, convulsed. Her mind gone, lost to everything but the waves rippling through her, over and over.

  When Brody collapsed atop of her, hot pulses of fire erupted in her lower abdomen. The feeling was strange and wonderful. Always before they had used condoms. Birth control pills to control her periods provided the necessary protection, so this time nothing came between them. Nothing. She wrapped her arms around Brody and let the aftermath wash over them, together.

  “Hmmm…” Brody hummed against her shoulder. “We better get dressed, before we’re caught.”

  Andrea didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to come back to reality, but she did when he moved off her, pulled his pants up and started to zip them.