A stab of fear gripped his heart. Would her job be riding on it, too?
He couldn't do that to her.
Fuck.
"What are you thinking about so hard?" she asked, her voice jarring him back to the hammock and their cuddle.
"Stuff."
"The same kind of stuff I asked you if you wanted to talk about last night?"
"Yeah."
"You wanna talk now?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "We're grown-ups, right?"
"You more than me, probably."
"I find that hard to believe."
He was silent for a long while. She didn't say anything else. Finally, he opened up, just a little. His voice caught on the words and it took a few tries to get out. "I don't have a lot of prospects, Cara."
"Mmm." She rubbed his chest, then down to his belly. "That's a scary place to be."
"You know about that, maybe?"
"A bit."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, that's life, right?" Another sigh, and she stretched her legs out as far as she could, making a satisfied sound as her toes brushed his. "I've got a friend. Arielle. And her father's a successful businessman, but … he's mixed up in some stuff. I don't know what. Drug smuggling, maybe. I hope not, but he comes and goes, disappears sometimes without warning. It's stressful for her. Meanwhile my mom and I have cream tea every Wednesday afternoon at the hotel where she cleans rooms. So who am I to complain about what I don't have?"
"I wasn't complaining." At least he hadn't meant to.
"Oh, no … I know that. I just mean … maybe this isn't what you thought you were getting down here. But maybe it could be good anyway? No matter which way it goes?"
"Would you still … " His eyes were hot and scratchy. Fucking emo bullshit. He squeezed her hip, then palmed her ass. The teenage boy deep inside him gave him a fist bump. It wasn't whether or not she'd still want him. Fuck that noise. It was his job to be worthy, no matter what. "Yeah. It could be real good. I'll land on my feet, kitten. Don't worry about me."
SHE DID, THOUGH, AND EVEN AFTER HE FELL ASLEEP, she thought about their conversation over and over again, looking at it from all sides.
When he started snoring lightly, she slipped out from under his arm and lightly twisted her way out of the hammock.
Inside the house, she found her phone and plugged it in. Then she pinned a note to Mick's shirt say that she'd gone into town, and went in search of dinner supplies.
And condoms.
After hitting the market and the pharmacy, she swung past Daphne's boat, but her friend wasn't home. Arielle would be at the school for another hour at least.
Cara chewed on her lower lip. She needed to tell her friends that the situation had changed. That Mick wasn't anyone's enemy, and surely they could find a way to …
But she didn't know how to finish that thought
She wasn't sure what they were going to do after today. Today's plan, though, was to get Mick out of whatever funk he'd slipped into. With condoms. And her mouth. Whatever other part of her body might please him, too.
When she got back to the plantation, Mick wasn't in the hammock. The lunatic had found a ladder from somewhere and he was on the roof, slowly moving around, stopping occasionally to poke at the shingles.
"What are you doing?" she hollered, shielding her eyes as she stared up at him.
"Checking the roof damage from last night," he called back. "Why?"
She held up the box of condoms. "No reason."
"I can't tell what that is," he said, planting his hands low on his hips. "But if it's condoms … "
"It is."
"I'll be right down."
She braced the bottom of the ladder, and as soon as he hit the ground, they were kissing.
And laughing.
She tipped her face up to the sun as he spun her around, his mouth on her neck and his hands … everywhere. This was good. This was very, very good.
"Hammock sex?" Mick mumbled as he slipped his hand inside her t-shirt.
"No," she panted.
"Bed?"
"Too far."
"Tent?"
"Too stuffy." It was muggy and humid, the damp of the storm lingering in the air. "Upstairs."
Mick stopped her as she turned to go inside. He pressed the hard, flexing bulk of his front against her back, and she shivered. "What's upstairs?"
She grinned. "The most amazing balcony … I haven't shown it to you yet."
There were two balconies, actually, one stretching across the front of the house, matching the full length of the verandah below.
But in the back, there was a smaller one, off what once had been the master bedroom. Empty now, like all the other rooms in the house, it seemed nearly as cavernous as the ballroom below.
The balcony, however, was small, covered, and had the most amazing view of the ocean.
"You've been holding out on me," Mick rumbled behind her.
"You going to punish me?" she whispered, glancing back at him.
He shook his head slowly as a feral grin curled up his face. "Not my style, kitten. I prefer sweet rewards."
"Oh yeah?" She turned and moved all the way across the balcony until her back touched the thick wooden railing. She dropped the condom box to the floor, spread her arms wide and gave him a coy look. "What do I need to do for a reward?"
He braced his hands on either side of her hips, his feet set wide too, and somehow managed to loom over her without really touching her. Sure, his arms brushed her waist, his legs glanced against her calves as she shifted restlessly in the cage of his body and the railing, but it wasn't enough.
It was a cruel tease.
He gazed down at her, his eyes crawling slowly over her face. "Tell me what you like. I'll reward honesty."
"I … " Her skin was too hot. She wanted to feel his eyes and his hands and the wind on her flesh. "I like to be naked."
"I like you to be naked, too." He dropped one hand to her waist and rucked up her tank top. "You have the most gorgeous skin."
"Take it off … please." She was begging, and he'd just touched her belly. He was so, so good at this.
"I don't think so." He dropped the fabric of her shirt and ran his knuckles up her torso, between her breasts. When his fingers got to the neckline, he hooked over it and tugged it down. "Pretty bra."
She didn't say anything as he worked her shirt beneath her breasts, then continued his lazy exploration of her skin with the tips of his fingers. Along her bra cups. Over her collarbone. Up her neck and into her hair, until he found just the right spot to hold her head, and then he kissed her.
He said he liked to reward, but this felt punishing. Pent-up feelings poured out of him. Maybe he wasn't punishing her so much as them, together, for causing such a complication when he wanted nothing of the sort.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth, commanding her to take him. At the same time, he worked his hand into her bra, squeezing her breast almost to the point of pain.
Almost. Not quite.
No, it didn't hurt in the least.
"More," she gasped against his mouth. He fondled her more roughly, giving her an edge that made her thighs ache. "Yes … "
"God, Cara, you feel so good."
She let go of the railing and tugged at his clothes, needing to touch him the same way he was touching her. "I want you."
"You've got me."
"I want you, now. I want you inside me."
"We've got all night."
She groaned as she found his erection, hard and ready. She stroked him twice, then spun around, pushing her shorts to the floor as she spread her legs. "All night is for rounds two and three."
Slow and controlled, he took off her top, then unhooked her bra and replaced the satin cups with his hands for a fleeting second before he released her.
She sagged against the railing as he leaned down and grabbed protection, then stood and wrapped himself around her from behind. "Your wish is my command."
He kissed her shoulder, her neck, scrapping his teeth along a spot behind her ear she had no idea made her wet, but it did now. Then he squeezed her hips, lifting her onto the tips of her toes as he slid his sheathed cock between her legs.
"Don't tease me," she gasped as he rubbed the tip against her clit.
"Breathe," he whispered. "Feel that? Feel how hard I am for you? If you're not wet enough, that's gonna hurt."
"I'm ready." Jeez, she was whining now. But she wanted to feel him- "Oh."
"Okay?"
"Ahhhh … " She tried to breathe. Wow, he was big. He'd just worked the head inside her, but she was already stretching around him to the aching point.
"It's the angle," he said, his voice strained.
She shot him a look over her shoulder that she hoped was equal parts accusing and appreciative. "Pretty sure it's your size, not the angle. But don't you dare stop."