Jo Leigh - One-Click Buy - September Harlequin Blaze

“Oh, God,” she said, burying her head in the pillow so he couldn’t see her blush. “Was I that obvious?”

“I can’t hear you when you mumble into the pillow.”

She lifted her head and repeated the question.

“Yes. You were.”

She groaned, and this time it wasn’t from his busy digits.

“Hey, I liked it.”

She shook her head, not wanting to hear his excuses. She knew he was just being polite, and that killed her.

He leaned down so his mouth was close to her ear. “I used to go home and stroke myself to the memory of your voice.”

A shiver raced down her spine, and she ended up squeezing his finger quite tightly.

“See? You do like to tease. And you can’t tell me you didn’t know the effect it had on me. There were all those times when I stood behind the limo door after letting you out. I can’t believe you didn’t know why.”

Looking up once more, she tried to figure out if he was playing her. Was it all just a way to make her forget that she probably wasn’t going to live to have sex again? He looked sincere, but that didn’t mean a thing. The only real proof she had-if she could call it that-was his very hard dick. Of course, he might be getting off for any number of reasons, only one of them being that he truly wanted her.

“What are you thinking?”

“That this could all be some ploy to distract me.”

“It’s not. But if it was…?”

She smiled. “Good point. Distract away.”

His fingers stilled, his body tensed and the way he looked at her gave her gooseflesh. “Know this, Tate Baxter. I think you’re an amazing woman and I’d never do anything to hurt you. Got that?”

She blinked back sudden tears, but he didn’t see because he was kissing her again. When he pushed her to her back, she went eagerly, spreading her legs for him. It had been a long time, but she was so ready that when he pushed inside her, she nearly passed out from the pleasure.

While he was in her, fully in her, he somehow lifted her butt and shoved a pillow underneath. So when he moved the next time, he not only filled her perfectly but he rubbed her already engorged clit.

She’d read about this neat little trick but always assumed it was fiction. Boy, was she glad to be wrong.

It was her last coherent thought as Michael proceeded to rock not just her world but all the worlds in the galaxy. She came like a Roman candle, and he had to kiss her so she wouldn’t wake everyone on the East Coast.

Flushed, gasping, eyes closed, she felt him remove the pillow from under her butt, then pull the covers up to her chest. She wasn’t sure if his gentle kiss on the forehead was real or a dream or both.

HE GOT OUT OF THE bed and went straight for the bathroom so his moaning wouldn’t wake her.

He pulled off the damn rubber, then turned on the cold water, whispering every curse in every language he knew. He’d held off before, but damn, it had never hurt like this. He was getting old, that’s all. Old and unable to control himself as well.

It seemed to take forever for his dick to calm the hell down, and even then getting dressed made him swear again. He’d done his job, all right. She’d fallen asleep, as predicted. Now all he had to do was make sure she didn’t wake up in the middle of his escape.

He got his comb out of his back pocket. No one ever thought to take the comb. Not only was it good for handcuffs, he could open one hell of a lot of locks with this puppy. It was cheap, too. He’d bought a pack of fifty for five bucks.

He slipped the scissors into his pocket, then turned off the light. He’d get himself into the saloon, praying no one was watching the door. All he’d need was a few seconds of good surveillance and he could go on the offensive.

He stepped out of the head to find Tate still sleeping. Then he turned off the cabin light and made sure there was no bleed of light around the door. It was dark, which was just what he needed.

He quietly made his way to the door, which only took him a minute to unlock. Then he was in the saloon and he closed the door behind him.

Martini wasn’t sitting in his big leather chair anymore. Charlie had fallen asleep on the couch, and Jazz had drifted off with his head on the side counter.

He made his way toward Jazz, determined to get his gun before taking him out, just in case. As he reached for the weapon, pain tore through him like lightning. Then black.

TATE TOUCHED MICHAEL’S shoulder, really worried now that the hit on the head had done serious damage. He’d been out for hours, and the swelling, despite the damp cloths she’d kept on it, was bad.

Just after he’d been dumped on the bed, the boat had pulled anchor and set out. She had no idea if they were going to the Cayman Islands or simply out to sea to dispose of bodies, but she did know they were traveling fast. When she’d looked out the porthole, she’d seen no land at all in the early-morning light.

If only he’d wake up.

She sat back on the bed watching his chest rise and fall. He’d been so wonderful to her last night. It had changed everything for her about sex, and if this hadn’t been the single worst experience of her life, she’d have been in heaven.

More then ever she wanted to survive this. Not just to get over her fears but to see what would happen between her and Michael. Was she the worst person on Earth to be thinking of their future together while he might be seriously hurt? She supposed it was no worse than her prognosis. They’d either die tonight, in the cold depths of the sea, or in about a week, after she’d signed her money away. Or Michael would recover and he’d save her.

She decided right then to focus on option three.

Her father wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t the best, right? And he’d gotten them this far. Okay, so his escape plan last night hadn’t gone so well. But, come on, the guy had had no way of knowing what was behind the door. At least he’d tried.

Things would get trickier now, though. Assuming they were heading for the Cayman’s, they’d have to get fuel. She wasn’t sure how often they’d have to stop, but when they did, there would be a chance.

She looked at his face, at his very dark, long eyelashes. At his lips, perfect for a man. His nose was pretty damn nice, too. Oh, who was she kidding? He was a babe, and even her, with her limited knowledge about men, knew he’d been around the block many, many times. Probably with fabulous women, because, well, come on.

Had he really told her the truth last night?

She shivered remembering his whispered words just before he’d made love to her. God, that was the sexiest thing ever. She sighed, knowing she was behaving like an adolescent.

And why not? She’d stunted her growth, her heart had atrophied-and for what? All that planning, all that fear hadn’t helped one damn bit. She’d still been kidnapped. So she could have been having a fabulous life all this time instead of whining about her regrets.

At least she wouldn’t regret last night. If she had to go, this was the way to do it. Well, not this. This sucked. She needed Michael to be okay. She could face whatever came next if he was beside her. Alone? She’d rather die than be that scared again.

A moan made her freeze, hold her breath. She watched him, afraid to blink, as he moaned again, moved his head. He winced, and that had to be a good sign, right?

“Michael?”

He opened his eyes just a little, then closed them again. “What happened?” His voice sounded thick, dry.

“They hit you.”

“With what? A refrigerator?”

“I don’t know. They brought you in last night. Well, early this morning, although I’m not sure what time. They dumped you on the bed and told me to tell you that if you tried that again, they wouldn’t be so nice.”