Another alarm sounded somewhere in her brain, but she was beyond listening. His lips brushed her throat, and tingles raced through to her toes. She felt as if she were awakening after a long sleep, her heart pumping, her blood flowing the way it was meant to. It couldn’t be wrong.
She curled her fingers, pressing her nails to his skin, hanging on as her head whirled. He dipped the tip of his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. A sound rose between them, a soft moan of longing. She hadn’t realized it was her until she felt an answering rumble vibrate from Sam’s chest.
He lifted his head. His eyes met hers without wavering. “I’ve missed you,” he said simply. “So much.”
It still wasn’t too late to stop, she thought dimly. He wasn’t pushing her. And he would never force her. That’s just the kind of man he was. Straightforward and honest. Responsible. Stubborn.
Tender. Sweet.
She parted her lips, but the lie wouldn’t come. “I’ve missed you, too, Sam.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with the beginning of a smile. But then he dropped his gaze, and his smile froze. “You’re wet.”
“I’ll dry off. It’s warm and…” Her words trailed off as she followed his gaze. Water had seeped into her cotton tank top. The once modest garment clung to her breasts, clearly outlining her erect nipples.
She watched him bring his hand between their bodies, and her knees went weak. He spread his fingers, holding his palm a whisper away from one straining peak.
No, don’t, she thought. If you touch me now we won’t be able to go back.
A tremor shook his fingers. His chest vibrated with another rumbling moan.
She looked up and found his gaze on her face. His smile was gone. His eyes glowed with an intensity that gave her no chance to hide. Even in the sunshine that poured on the deck she felt the heat from his hand. She couldn’t breathe as every nerve strained toward him, yearning for the moment when he would close the gap.
Yes, oh, yes, she cried silently. Please, Sam, if you don’t touch me now…
He closed his hand over her breast.
Kate was unable to stop her soft gasp of pleasure. It had been so long. She had forgotten how good this felt.
No, she hadn’t forgotten, she had chosen not to remember.
He rubbed his palm across her nipple. The soft friction of the wet shirt over her sensitive flesh made it swell more. She locked her hands behind his neck, arching her back and shamelessly lifting herself more fully into his caress.
He cupped her breast boldly, lifting, squeezing, driving her mad. With a groan, he curled himself over her body and fitted his mouth to hers.
There was nothing coaxing about this kiss. He took her lips with swift certainty. His tongue plunged inside, demanding a response. She gave it, matching him stroke for stroke. Needs that she’d believed had died were blossoming. She wasn’t merely awakening, she was coming alive.
It was wonderful. Glorious. She couldn’t think why she had fought it so long. Then she stopped thinking altogether and raked her fingers over his naked back.
Sam shifted, bracing his legs apart and wrapping his arms around her waist as he drew her more firmly against him. The position brought their hips together. Beneath the cool, wet denim he was hot and hard.
Kate hooked her foot behind his leg to improve the fit.
She didn’t know how they ended up on the deck. One moment they were standing, the next they were on their sides, their legs entwined, their feet halfway down the companionway, their hands everywhere they could reach. She pushed Sam to his back and climbed on top of him, pressing kisses to his chest. She paused only long enough to help him yank her tank top over her head and get rid of her bra before she fell on him greedily.
He tasted the same, she discovered, running her tongue down the center of his six-pack abs. The years had honed his body to perfection. He had a few new scars, a small ridge of white skin to the left of his navel and a long curving one beneath his right ribs. She kissed them both, then did the same for the recent bullet wound in his side.
With a sound she could only describe as a growl he grasped her shoulders and reversed their positions, straddling her hips as he came down on top of her. He went straight for the zipper of her shorts, cursing colorfully when the zipper stuck halfway down.
Breathless, she pushed his hands aside and unfastened it herself.
He cursed again.
Kate glanced up.
Sam wasn’t looking at her. He was looking behind him toward the cabin.
“Lieutenant Coburn, Lieutenant Mulvaney, do you read me?”
The voice was faint, barely audible over the sound of the breeze and the gentle lap of the waves. It came from the radio.
Sam sat back on his heels, and warm, damp denim brushed her thighs. He rubbed his face hard.
Kate drew in a breath, trying to clear the haze from her vision.
“Lieutenant Coburn, Lieutenant Mulvaney, please report.” It was the policeman who was overseeing the communications at the command post. Sergeant Chelios. And judging by his anxious tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to contact them.
Sam dipped his head and met her gaze. “Kate…”
She swallowed hard. “We have to answer.”
“I know.” He made no move to get off her. “Are you all right?”
No, she was not all right. She ached. She throbbed. Her body was clamoring to complete what they’d started.
What they’d started…
Suddenly everything came into focus. Clear, brutal focus.
What had they started?
“Oh, my God,” she muttered.
Sam brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “Don’t, Kate.”
“We almost… we could have…” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Oh, God.”
“Don’t regret this, Kate. It was bound to happen.”
No.
“We’ll finish this later.” He leaned over and gave her a swift kiss, then rose to his feet and disappeared down the companionway. A moment later his voice came from the cabin. “This is Lieutenant Coburn. Over.”
Numbly, Kate sat up and looked for her top. It had ended up hooked over a cleat. Her bra dangled from the ship’s wheel. She gathered her clothing and scanned the cove. Fortunately, no one was in sight, but she hadn’t thought of that, had she? She hadn’t thought about anything other than satisfying the need Sam had stirred.
She put on her bra, but her hands were shaking too hard to fasten it. Stupid. Pathetic. How could she have lost control so totally, so fast? She bit her lip and concentrated, willing her fingers to function.
She was an officer in the United States Navy. She was a mature, rational woman. And now she was incapable of guiding a hook through an eye.
Exhaling hard, she finally managed to fasten her bra. She yanked on her top. It was still wet, clinging to her breasts in the same way that had started all of this.
No, what had happened here had started before today. Before last week.
We’ll finish this later.
She combed her fingers through her hair. Her short hair. She’d cut it to get rid of the memories. And to punish herself. She should have remembered that. Instead, she’d remembered how good Sam could make