Fatal Pursuit (The Aegis Series)
He pushed up on his hands and thrust inside her. Her eyes glazed over. Her hands landed against his biceps. He did it again and again, feeling her grow wetter, tighter, feeling her body rush toward a climax they both needed more than air to breathe.
“Don’t stop.” She lifted her legs around his hips, tightened her sex. Gripped his arms to hold on tight.
He couldn’t speak. Wanted to tell her how good it felt but couldn’t do anything other than thrust harder, deeper, giving her what she wanted. He stared down into her gleaming eyes as she looked up at him. Felt every part of her. Couldn’t hold back. And as his climax slammed into him, for a moment he was sure he could see into her soul. As if they were one. As if she were the answer to everything.
Her fingernails dug into his skin. She dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and cried out. Her sex pulsed and clenched around him through her release, and the delicious friction caused another tiny orgasm to slam into him, kicking his own pleasure right back to blistering, robbing him of all thought, of sight, of everything but her and this and them.
He collapsed against her. Couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Couldn’t move. But the room was spinning again. The drums once again pounding. And even though he’d just come harder than he ever had before, arousal was already rushing through his veins again, his body telling him once wasn’t even close to being enough.
“Oh my God, Jake.” Her hand slid up into his hair, and she scraped her fingernails across his skull. “That was . . . wow. Do that again.”
He pushed up on one hand, looked down at her smiling, sweaty, gorgeous face, and knew before this night was over, he was going to have her again. Several times. Any and every way he could get her. And screw the consequences.
He lowered his mouth to hers and rocked his already growing erection inside her hot, slick core. “Yes. Definitely yes.”
Okay, she thought she’d had the mother of all hangovers before. She’d been wrong. Marley felt like she’d slammed her head into the front of a semi going ninety miles per hour.
Pressing a hand against her aching forehead, she dragged her eyes open. Watery vision filled her sight and then slowly cleared. Blinking several times, she stared up at a thatched roof.
Voices echoed outside the grass walls of some kind of hut. Sunlight filtered around the edges of a blanket hanging over the doorway. She tried to sit up but couldn’t. Something heavy pressed against her legs and waist. Shifting against the hard ground, she turned to her left. And spotted Jake’s sleeping face resting against her shoulder.
Confusion clouded her mind. Her gaze skipped down to his bare arm wrapped around her waist, his leg draped over hers, then skipped up and over to his ass—his very naked ass—only inches from her hand.
“Oh my God.” She shoved hard against his shoulder, knocking him off her, and jerked the blanket from the floor beside them, tugging it over her—oh holy God—own nakedness as she twisted away.
Jake grunted and rolled over on his belly. “Someone turn the damn lights off. It’s too freakin’ bright.”
One quick glance over her shoulder confirmed—yep, she’d been right—he was completely butt-ass naked. And wow, he had a great butt. Totally muscular, squeezable, and hot.
Panic and heat rushed to her cheeks with that thought. Gripping the blanket tighter to her breasts, she averted her eyes once more. “What the hell did we do last night?”
Grumbling, Jake shifted behind her, then went utterly silent. And without even looking, she knew he’d finally cued in to the situation and realized the same damn thing she just had.
They’d slept together. No, that wasn’t right. Her fuzzy mind was slowly clearing, bringing her brain back online synapse-by-synapse, making connections she’d rather forget. They hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping last night. They’d . . . Oh shit. She couldn’t even think about what they’d done. Over and over. In a variety of positions. And she’d enjoyed every one. Multiple times.
She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh my God.”
“Um. Wow.” His voice echoed behind her, followed by the rustle of fabric. Then he chuckled. A nervous sound that only made her pulse beat faster. “I . . . Wow.”
Wow? That was all he was going to say? Wow?
She pressed her fingers to her throbbing eye sockets. “This is such a monumental mess.”
“Which part?”
She cringed. Definitely not wanting to remember all the different . . . parts. “Just don’t even say it.”
He chuckled again, as if the entire situation amused him. “Look, shock factor aside, there is a plus to all this.”
“A plus? I can’t see a single plus in this situation.”
“I mean, if you had to lose control, at least you did it with someone you know you can trust instead of one of those natives. You’re not going to get pregnant. And we’re both clean. So there’s no reason to stress over that part, at least.”
A sick feeling passed through her stomach. “How do you know that I won’t get pregnant?”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced over her shoulder. “Jake, how do you know that information?”
A sheepish expression crossed his face.
And in a split second, the fact they’d just screwed each other silly was suddenly the least of her worries.
Her eyes flew wide. “Oh my God. You looked in my medical file?”
When he still didn’t answer, she scrambled to her feet, tugging the blanket with her. Thankfully, he’d pulled another blanket over his hips so he wasn’t flashing her. “That’s an invasion of privacy. It’s also illegal, and you know it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’ve looked in my file. If you hadn’t, you’d be freaking out way more than you are now.”
Her eyes shot even wider. “I schedule all the yearly physicals for employees of your stupid company. Of course I’ve seen your damn file. But that doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does.” He braced his hands behind him on the ground and leaned back, all relaxed and cocky and sexy as hell. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me right now.”
“That’s just . . .” She glanced around the room, frustrated and, yes, freaking flipping out. “That’s sexual harassment! Again!”
He barked out a laugh and eyed the flimsy blanket clutched at her chest. “If memory serves, you’re the one who ripped my shirt off last night. I have the missing buttons to prove it.”
Her mouth dropped open. Exasperation and disbelief killed the words on her tongue. She could barely think straight, let alone argue with him. Because he was right.
Oh shit. Oh holy shit.
“Hey.” His brow dropped low. “You didn’t drink from that bowl they were passing around last night, did you?”
Marley could barely keep up with him, but his question made her brain spin with the events of the night before, and she froze, remembering back to the women passing her that bowl of fermented smelling liquid as the fire was lit. “Yes.” Several times, in fact. “Did you?”
“I might have had a sip or two.”
“What was in it?”
Jake looked up at the ceiling. “I’m guessing some plant or vine with psychedelic properties. Did the room spin for you last night?”
“Yes.”
“Leave you lightheaded, seeing stars and different colors?”
Her stomach dropped, and she closed her eyes again. They’d obviously gone for quite a trip last night. “Yes.”
“Make you horny as hell? Oh wait, pretty sure I know the answer to that one.”
She shoved her foot against his leg.
Chuckling, he bent forward and rubbed his hand over the spot. “Stop. I’m sore.”
So was she. Everywhere. In a good way. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Oh my God, I can’t believe we—”
“Fucked.”
She
groaned and turned away, gripping the blanket around her. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? That’s what we did. Several times, I’m pretty sure.”
“Ugh. That word is just so vulgar and descriptive. I can’t—” Her gaze dropped to the dirt floor, the area surrounding their makeshift bed littered with flower petals, then to the woven bracelet around her ankle, and finally to the same bracelet on his ankle. Sketchy memories flittered through her mind. Ones that made her stomach flip over in a new, anxiety-inducing way. “Oh. Shit.”
He raked a hand through his hair, then dropped his arm to his side. “Damn but I could really use a strong cup of coffee right now.”
“Jake, look at the floor.”
His gaze darted to the flower petals. “Yeah, so?”
“So, I don’t think”—she swallowed hard—“sex was all we did last night.”
“If you’re talking positions, I’m pretty sure we covered most—”
“Just shut up. Do you remember the women in this hut last night? Look what’s on your ankle.”
His gaze drifted to the ankle bracelet. “Yeah, so? Someone gave me a gift. What about it?”
“They gave me the same one.” She tugged the sheet up so he could see the matching bracelet on her ankle. “Couples wear them. You saw the men and women with matching anklets pairing off last night. Then that little ceremony thing they did when they brought us in here with the flowers and the incense.” She pressed a sweaty hand to her forehead, and her stomach rolled all over again. “I think we might have gotten . . . married.”
He went completely still and didn’t utter a single sound. Then after several long seconds muttered, “Well, that’s something I haven’t been accused of doing before.”
Panic pressed against every inch of Marley’s skin. Gripping the blanket at her chest, she bent over and reached for the woven rope around her ankle.
“No, don’t.” Jake lurched to his feet.
Marley’s eyes went wide. She jerked around. “Good God, Jake. You’re naked.”
He chuckled and reached for his pants from the floor.
She cringed and bent over to pull the bracelet off again. But before she could untie it, his hand closed around hers. “Don’t.”
She shoved his hand aside and stepped away from him. “Do not tell me you, of all people, want to be married. Or pretend to be married.”
A mischievous smile curled his lips. His sexy and—now she knew from personal experience—way too soft and seductive lips. “No. I don’t. But I also don’t want to get skewered. If they really did some marriage ritual thing on us last night, which now I’m remembering back to, they might have done since there were people in this hut when we started to—”
“Oh God.” Marley pressed a hand to her face as a new wave of complete and abject mortification washed over her. “We did—that—in front of them?”
“Relax. I’m pretty sure they were out of the room when we really got going.”
“Oh holy God.” Memories of the night before rushed through her mind. The women taking her top off and rubbing her up with oils, then Jake’s scorching, intensely focused gaze as he’d stared at her and finally moved in to kiss her. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
She dropped to the edge of the blanket, pulled her knees up, and breathed deep, fighting the humiliation.
Jake rested his hands on his hips, barefoot, shirtless, and sexy as hell. Too damn sexy, especially now, when she knew just what he could do with his—
She groaned and dropped her head into her hands.
“That’s one I haven’t heard before either.”
The hurt in his voice made her realize he thought she was talking about the sex. But she wasn’t. That had been good. No, not just good, but mind-blowingly amazing. Only she didn’t have a clue how to tell him that without making the entire situation worse.
“You can take the bracelet off if you want,” he said in an irritated tone. “But I guarantee if you do, I’m not getting out of this village.”
Marley lifted her gaze and eyed his bare foot. His khaki cargo pants covered the ankle bracelet, blocking it from view, but she knew it was still there. Matching hers.
“So what do you expect me to do? Act like we did get married?”
He reached for his shirt from the ground. “I know it’s a stretch to act like you like me.”
From his jerky movements, she could tell she’d upset him. But the thought was so foreign she wasn’t sure what to say or do. Jake had never cared what she’d said or done before.
Confused, she watched as he pulled on his shirt, tried to button it, then gave up. And as he did, she had a memory flash. Of tugging his shirt from his pants, tearing the buttons off, and sliding her hands along his hard, muscular chest.
Warmth gathered in her belly and slinked lower, and she coughed and looked quickly away, fighting back the arousal she did not want to feel.
This was Jake. Her boss. Her boss. Not some random guy she could hook up with and fantasize about a future with. Jake didn’t do long-term. Or serious. Or relationships. He was a casual sex kind of guy. And that kind of relationship with him was something she was not—never—interested in.
So okay, they’d slept together. They’d both clearly been high from whatever hallucinogen they’d ingested. If they’d been in their right minds, it would never have happened. And now that she was in her right mind, it was never happening again.
But she had liked it. Liked it a lot. And she liked him even more.
She pushed to her feet, grasped the blanket at her chest, and worked for calm when she felt anything but. “Your pack’s in the other hut with mine.”
“Which one?” He sat on the blanket and pulled on his boots, but, she noticed, didn’t look up at her.
She’d hurt him. She didn’t know how or why, but she had. She needed to do something to fix it.
She moved to the door, pulled the blanket back, and peered out at the rest of the village, getting her bearings. “Um, three doors down on the right.”
“I’ll get them.”
He rose to his feet and tried to step past her. Moving in his way, she pressed a hand to his chest. “Jake.”
“What?”
“I . . .” Crap. She was actually going to say this. It might ruin their working relationship, but right now she was more worried about their friendship than anything else. And that’s what they were—friends. If she hadn’t known it before this excursion into the jungle, she knew it now. She drew in a deep breath for courage and dropped her hand. “If I had last night to do over again, I wouldn’t let it happen.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“But”—she forced herself to go on—“that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. It was . . . nice.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he tipped his head in a get-real move. “Just nice?”
Amusement lingered in his dark gaze. An amusement that did crazy, hot things to her blood. Things she didn’t want to be feeling. “Yes. What’s wrong with nice?”
“Nice is a walk in the park. Or a bike ride. Or a movie.”
“How would you like me to describe it?”
A sexy smile toyed with the corner of his mouth. “Hot. Amazing. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
She couldn’t stop herself. A laugh slipped from her lips. The way he described it made the entire situation seem exactly what it was—completely and entirely, without excuse, insane.
“All right. You fried my brain. How’s that?”
He grinned and leaned down toward her mouth, stopping millimeters from kissing her. She sucked in a surprised and—oh, wow—very aroused breath. “That will do, wife. That will do.”
He moved away without touching her, and, more confused than she believed possible, Marley watched him pull the blanket in the doorway to the side, then disappea
r out into the sunshine.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she turned and stared at the ground where they’d slept. And felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.
Damn. She closed her eyes. Forget being in trouble with Jake. Right now she was drowning a long and torturous death. And she had no idea if she’d survive.
Jake shifted the pack on his back while he waited for Marley to say goodbye to Darla on the edge of camp.
After hugging the anthropologist, Marley stepped up next to him, her own pack slung over her shoulders. He gripped her hand and waved to Darla and the rest of the villagers, then tugged her after him into the jungle.
She waited until they were out of sight of the village, then pulled back on his grip. “You don’t have to hold my hand anymore.”
The dampness of her palm told him she was nervous. Something he found incredibly interesting. He tightened his fingers around hers, not letting her get away. “You never know who could be following. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“Safer for you,” she mumbled.
He smiled wider. She was really nervous. Which not only amused him, it excited him. Memories of the night before rolled through his brain as they pushed their way past vines and wide palms. She was right. If he had it to do over again, he’d never allow that to happen, but it had. And part of him wasn’t sorry at all. Because it hadn’t just been fan-fucking-tastic as he’d teased her, it had been freaking incredible.
When they were at least a mile from the village, he finally let go of her hand and took the lead through the jungle. At his back, she muttered, “Ayahuasca.”
“What?”
“That’s what they gave us last night. Ayahuasca.”
“I’ve heard of that.” He ducked under a low branch.
“Darla said it’s a brew created with the bark of the Banisteriopsis caapi vine, and that it’s used in ceremonies to promote psychedelic and ritual inebriation.”
And potency, he guessed. He’d been harder last night than he was sure he’d ever been.
Blood rushed into his groin. He drew in a breath and fought back the arousal as he used the machete in his hand to hack at the foliage in their way. “It worked.”