“Don’t you dare laugh,” she warned him.
Slowly he shook his head, still not lifting a finger to help her. “Not feeling like laughing,” he said silkily.
Oh, God, she knew that voice. It was his aroused voice. It was the voice he used right before he took her out of herself, every single time, and while being taken out of herself right this minute would be a good thing, she was absolutely not going to have sex in a makeshift dressing room in Baja, with guns looking for them.
She wasn’t. “Noah-” Again she struggled to free her arms, the movement jiggling her breasts.
Noah watched, and let out a low groan that she sensed more than heard. “Hold still,” he commanded.
But then instead of freeing her, he ran a callused finger over the pushed-up curve of first one breast, then the other, making her let out a sound that shocked her in its neediness.
“You should see yourself,” he whispered, and that finger snaked in beneath the lace and rasped over her bare nipple, eliciting another gasp from her.
“Noah-” This got choked off when his other hand slid down her belly, then lower, gently gliding right over ground zero.
“Ohmigod,” she gasped. “Stop that-”
But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t, and with the intimate knowledge he had of her body, he knew exactly what to stroke and how hard to stroke it and oh, good Lord, the man pressed his mouth to her hip as he played with her, nibbling his way across her low belly to her other hip, all the while keeping his fingers very, very busy, taking her right to the edge of an orgasm, something she would have bet her own life would be impossible at this moment. “Noah-please.”
“I will most definitely please,” he promised hoarsely, and tugged on her.
“Ack,” she said as she fell.
He caught her. She had a feeling he would always catch her, and as he did so now, he maneuvered her so that she was sprawled in his lap. With her skirt trapping her at the knees, and her sweater trapping her arms, there was little she could do to save herself.
Not that she tried.
Nope.
Not with his head bent and his mouth seeking out her breast, and then, oh, God, her nipple, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers still between her legs…
Beneath her, pressing into her bottom, he was hard, gloriously so. It would take nothing, she knew, for him to unzip and push inside her, and as far gone as she already felt, she knew it would take less than a minute for them both to go off.
But though he gripped her hips and rocked once against her, eyes closed, his face a mask of desire and pleasure, he then set his forehead to hers and just breathed.
Finally he lifted his head. Heat and desire had darkened his eyes to two black pools of lust, but there was also regret, and after one more rock of his hips and a low groan, he sighed and reached up to untangle her hair from the grasp of her sweater.
And then he helped her stand, handing her a Mexican white sundress, and then a poncho. When she had the dress on, he placed the hood of the poncho up over her head himself, and then pulled a poncho over his own leather jacket as well.
Together they left the sanctity of the dressing room, and after a quick exchange with the old woman, during which Noah slipped her some cash, they stepped out of the booth and back into the main aisle of the swap meet.
She could hardly walk, she was still so turned on that her legs were rubbery. But Noah pulled her along the maze of aisles as if the past few minutes had never happened, as if he knew exactly where he was going, holding on to her with one hand, speaking into his cell phone with the other. And then suddenly they were out in a parking lot a good quarter mile down from their Blazer, and a cabby was waiting for them.
“How did you-” she started in sheer amazement as he hurried her into it.
“Maddie is a goddess,” he said, and then switched to Spanish to direct the cab driver.
While she just stared at him. “What are you saying?”
“That we want to be driven back via the main drag, so I can see if our favorite goons are still there.” He switched back to his cell phone, speaking English again, and she realized he was talking to Brody, who she gathered was in contact with Shayne, who in turn was on his way.
They’d beaten the odds again, and better yet, were still alive. She knew it wasn’t her who had kept them that way, but Noah and his unique ability to twist any situation to his advantage.
It wasn’t that she kept underestimating him, but that she was continuously surprised at the depths of his resourcefulness, not to mention his ability to fit in anywhere, doing anything.
He was a chameleon, and possessed skills she could only dream of having. “You’re amazing.”
He’d been watching in front of them, behind them, on all sides of them, but at her words, he glanced at her in surprise.
“You are,” she said.
He took her hand, pressed his mouth to her palm.
The cabby drove by Alan’s resort. Noah said something to him, and he slowed. The place looked as deserted as it had before, sandwiched in between two points of hopping activity.
Goons gone.
Noah said something else to the cab driver, who then pulled into the next parking lot.
The Blazer was still there.
Tires slashed.
An undoubtable warning, one that said keep at this and more than just four tires would be slashed.
Sweat beaded on Bailey’s forehead. “Noah.”
“Are there any more resorts?”
She knew where he was going with this line of questioning. He wanted to know where she’d be heading next, and the terrifying truth was, she had no idea. “No more resorts,” she whispered, staring at the slashed tires, imagining how she was going to feel when it was Noah they caught up with next time, and slashed him.
Oh, God. When was this all going to stop? Now, she decided. It stopped now. “I’m out of plans,” she admitted. “I’ve got nothing left. I have to give up. I’m going to call the police and throw myself on their mercy and hope they can help me.”
“Bailey-”
“No, I mean it. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t keep putting other people in danger. Especially you, Noah. I have to stop the madness before I get you killed.”
He said nothing to that, but his jaw tightened, and she knew he wanted to argue the point with her, or maybe…maybe not believe her. She couldn’t blame him. “I have no more secrets from you,” she promised. “I’ve told you everything.”
“Bailey…are you sure Alan didn’t warn you about this, about any of it?”
“No. He just went on his trip like always-Wait.” She closed her eyes to remember exactly. They’d been standing in the foyer of their home, Alan holding his bag as he’d left for his fateful hunting trip. “He was different that time. More somber, lingering to talk when normally he couldn’t wait to leave.”
She remembered being surprised by that, and by the tight hug he gave her. He’d pulled away and looked deeply into her eyes, something he hadn’t done in a very long time. And then he’d said, “Whatever you need after I’m gone. I’ve kept it all safe, Precious.” She repeated the words.
Noah didn’t say anything for a long beat, and she opened her eyes.
His were on her, dark and speculative. “He called you Precious?”
She thought about that, and suddenly, like a one-two punch to her gut, it dawned on her. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He never called me Precious.” He’d never called her any affectionate pet nickname, nothing but her given name.
But he had made up pet names for all his houses, all his resorts. “Oh, my God, Noah.”
“Tell me.”
“When they told me about the money, I remembered he just kept safes in his various suites. I figured the house was too obvious, but…” She shook her head. “But he had nicknames for his places, each and every one of
