It had been years since Mitch had been to the beach house. He’d forgotten how big and beautiful it was. They entered the main living area, which was full of soft, comfortable couches and poofy chairs, each laden with pillows and throws. The kitchen adjoined the living room, and together, they overlooked the vast deck and pool, which in turn overlooked the ocean. The entire back side of the house was windows, which was gorgeous for the sunrise, but a logistical nightmare if you were in hiding.
He needed to stay focused. This wasn’t a vacation. Even if he thought Manuel didn’t have the resources to track them here, he had to keep his guard up, as Maggie had so eloquently put it—just in case.
“Oh, shoot, I didn’t think about the food situation,” Maggie said. “There’s probably nothing but dry goods and whatever the last people here left in the fridge.” Mitch followed as she made a beeline to the refrigerator.
“Milk’s good for another week. Same with the OJ and the eggs. There are even a few beers. What more do we need?” Mitch was satisfied. Since he considered them all set, he made his way to one set of patio doors and opened them. Night was falling, and the cool ocean air chilled his skin. “Hm, pool looks inviting, wanna go for a swim? Oh wait, you’re more of a hot tub kind of gal.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes.
“It’s too cold for swimming. I’ll probably just read. Make yourself at home, though. If you want to swim, be my guest,”she said.
“I think I will. It’ll help me clear my head. I’m gonna stay here tonight at least, and we’ll figure out tomorrow, tomorrow.” He went back to the front hallway where he’d left their bags. “Do you care which room I take?” he hollered from halfway up the stairs.
***
“No, pick whichever you want,” she said to an empty room, as she perused the bookshelf for something new. Finding nothing that interested her, she picked up her old standby.Pride and Prejudicenever disappointed.
Ten minutes later, she was wrapped in soft fleece and curled up in her favorite chair being transported to nineteenth-century England.
She heard Mitch in the pool, but he must have used the outside staircase because she didn’t see him for the rest of the night. Too bad. Seeing him shirtless wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.
Just as the ball at Netherfield was about to commence, Maggie found a bookmark. It was getting late, and she was short of sleep from the night before. Sleep at Mitch’s had proved elusive, so she was tired and a little irritable. She was also anxious but trusted Mitch and Adam and the police to find Manuel and take care of him.
She hauled her suitcase to one of the rooms on the first floor, did the bare minimum to prepare for bed, and fell into a deep sleep.
For about an hour.
After lying in bed for another hour, wide awake and thinking every thought under the sun, she got up to find something to drink. She tiptoed to the kitchen in search of the orange juice Jenny had left.
“Freeze,” said a hard, masculine voice from behind her. She froze, too petrified to move, even if she could figure outwhere to go. He’d found her, and she knew from the sound of his voice she was in trouble. Big trouble.
“I searched every room upstairs trying to tell you something. How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Oh. Well. I’m in a room downstairs. I couldn’t sleep and thought a drink might help.” She turned to face him.
Mitch’s shorts sat low on his hips. His chest was bare, all muscle and covered with fine blond hair. He had a set of abs she knew were rock hard, and it was all she could do to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.
He stared at her for several seconds before speaking again. The silky, thin pajamas she wore left nothing to the imagination, and she was tempted to cover herself but didn’t.
He approached slowly and stopped directly in front of her. “Turn around and put your hands on the fridge,” he said gruffly.
“What?” She blinked in confusion.
He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face away from him. He ran his fingers down her arms, softly grabbed her hands, and placed them on top of the refrigerator. Everywhere he touched left a trail of heat. He leaned in close behind her and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I first met you.”
“You wanted to arrest me?” she whispered back. His hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine, and she was having a hard time with coherent thought.
“I’ve wanted to put you up against a wall, tell you to spread your legs, and then touch you all over,” he said as he kissed her neck. “Is that okay with you?” He planted little kisses all down the side of her throat and onto her shoulder.
Oh, yes. Hell yes—excuse her language—that was okay with her. She didn’t know exactly what he intended to do but was fully on board with whatever he decided. Her mind had shut down, but her body was on full alert. He ignited feelings she’d never experienced. The time for vacillating over what she wanted was over. She wanted him.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew this was probably a bad idea, but, even so, she finally squeaked out a “yes” as he kissed back up to her ear.
“Good girl. Don’t move. I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”
He bent and began at her ankle, running both hands up one leg. Slow and methodical. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he bent and did the other leg, just as slowly, torturing her.
Everywhere he touched was left hot and tingling. Her breasts tightened in anticipation and heat pooled in her stomach and between her legs. After finishing the second leg, he lightly grazed her bottom as he stood to start on her arms. He was trying to drive her crazy, and it was working. His fingertips drifted down each arm. Then he slowly wrapped his large hands around her waist. When he finally reached her breasts and took one into his hand, she inhaled sharply and started to let go of the refrigerator.
“Keep your hands up,” he ordered. She did as she was told and gripped tightly with both hands. She wanted him to touch her. She was having a hard time not begging him to do so. He grasped both breasts and rubbed his palm over her nipples until they were hard and aching. Arching her back, she leaned into him, pressing her body against his.
