Fighting the Undertow Read online

  She uttered a soft moan of protest when he came up for air. Before she could issue another command, he captured her other nipple, sucking and tugging until she cried out and tried to twist away from him. Easing back, he circled her areola with his tongue, and then licked the glistening flesh of her nipple.

  As she made noises like a purring kitten, he continued working his tongue over her breast, and his balls started to ache. Hell, by putting her in charge, he may have signed himself up for an evening of purgatory. If Abby were here, she’d coax Val along, teasing her until she begged Ian to drive his cock home between her legs.

  At the idea of Abby’s delicate hands stroking Val’s skin, his thoughts galloped off on a mission of their own. Before he could rein them in, images of Jeremy easing his fingers into Val’s ass, of Tyler licking the contours of her pussy, and a dozen other scenarios flashed through his mind.

  “Damn.” Letting his face drop onto her chest, Ian pushed aside the unwelcome fantasies. He didn’t want to share her, and this was the first time he’d felt that way about anyone. But he couldn’t ignore his hunger for the warmth of his friends’ bodies pressing against him, crowding the bed with a mix of affection and desire. He wanted them to accept her, love her, as much as he did.

  “Ian?”

  “Sorry. I was somewhere else for a minute.”

  “Getting impatient?” She wiggled her hips suggestively.

  “Hell, yes. But you’re the one calling the shots. I’ll stand by that.”

  “Then I think I’d like your mouth, um…” Her face turned pink under her tan. “I’d like you to lick…”

  “You’ve got to tell me, Miss Vee. Can’t carry out your wishes, if I’m not sure what you want.” He reached up to stroke the sweaty curls clinging to her forehead.

  “My vulva, okay? Will you lick my vulva?”

  Ian laughed. “Sounds a bit scientific, Miss Therapist. You must have heard your patients use more descriptive language?”

  “Now you’re breaking the rules. I told you what to do, and you’d better get to work down there. What would you call it?”

  Damn, he liked her spirit. Scooting down to settle between her legs, which she obligingly opened for him, Ian nipped her inner thigh. “Pussy.” He nipped the tender skin at the base of her belly, just above the soft nest of curls.

  “I don’t give a damn what you call it, just so long as you put your mouth where I’ve requested.” She squirmed, tugging her wrists against the leather restraints, and arched toward his face.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Breathing in the tangy smell of her sex, he lapped a slow, teasing trail along the slick outer folds.

  “No, I want… Damn it to hell, you know what I want.”

  “Gotta say it.” Grinning against her slippery flesh, he continued the slow circles with his tongue.

  “My clit, okay? Will you please suck my clit?”

  “So that’s what you want.” His insolence earned him a sound kick to the back of his calf. “Watch it, or I’ll have to pull out the ankle restraints.” His cock strained at the thought, but he doubted Val was ready to be tied spread-eagle to the bed.

  With a sigh of anticipation, he settled down to the business of driving her higher. A few minutes of this, and she’d be begging him to come inside. He hadn’t bothered to take the condom off after she’d sucked his cock, so he was all set to go.

  Val cried out as he trapped her clit between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to drive her wild. When he settled down to suckle, she whimpered like a puppy. Her skin felt slick against his face, and her scent drove him wild, so tangy hot, he had to force himself to be gentle, when what he wanted to do was sink his teeth into the mound that covered her pubic bone until she screamed for him to stop.

  “Now, please, Ian. Fuck me.”

  She sure didn’t have trouble getting that out. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clit. “Request permission to make you come first, ma’am. Twice is always better than once, don’t you think?”

  “No. Yes. Damn it, now then!”

  Interpreting this as a plea for instant release, he dragged his tongue hard across her clit, once, twice, pressing even harder the third time. As her hips bucked against his face and she keened her relief, he suckled her again, seeing her through her climax.

  “No, no more!”

  If her hands had been free, he knew she’d have shoved his head away. Though he longed to drive her to another orgasm, he wiped his face on the sheet and moved up to rest his head beside hers on the pillow.

  The muscles in her arms were rigid from straining against the leather restraints. He massaged away the tension, circling his fingers around her wrists, stroking his hands along the length of her arms. “Better?”

  “Yeah. I got carried away at the end. Good thing we opted for the fur-lined leather. The metal cuffs would have torn up my wrists.”

  “Can I come inside you?” He hoped she wouldn’t ask him to untie her first. He wanted to see her arms spread out and secured to the headboard as he drove inside her, wanted to feel her legs wrap around his back while her wrists stayed anchored in place.

  “Please.” Her voice sounded husky, and her eyelids drooped closed.

  As he shifted into place, he bit his lip and forced himself to go slow. If he took her the way he wanted to, hard and furious, he’d scare her to death. Instead, he eased his cock deep inside her, groaning as she clenched tight around him.

  He buried himself until his balls nestled against her, then pulled back until she fussed and urged him in again. She pressed the soles of her feet against his calves, digging her toenails into his skin. Unable to hold back, he made love to her with a relentless rhythm. Moaning, she arched against him and spread her legs wider, inviting him deeper.

  As she struggled beneath him, panting to catch her breath, Ian reached up and worked free the knot securing one wrist, then the other. She reached for his ass, and the ties attached to the leather cuffs lashed against his back. His breath hissed as she dug her fingers into his back.

  “More. I want you to fill me.”

  Her muscles clenched around his cock like a fist, and when she spread her legs until her heels rested near the edges of the mattress, the last threads of self-control unraveled. He drove into her with the full force of his weight behind the thrust. Fighting to regain control, he paused, hoping he hadn’t gone too far.

  “So close. Don’t stop.”

  Something snapped, possibly the last shred of his sanity, and Ian took her the way he’d been aching to, hard, fast, and deep. Within seconds, he drove her over the edge, and as her nails raked his back, she screamed his name. He came so hard, he bit his lip, and the metallic taste of blood mixed with the smells of sweat, sex, and summer gardens.

  “Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry.” He tried to take her in his arms, but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate. He barely managed to slither off of her so she could breathe easier.

  The last thing he’d expected to hear was laughter, as refreshing as rain on an August day. She eased onto her side and nestled her face against his chest. “You’re going to have to get over this guilt thing. I told you, no kid gloves. Remember?”

  He groaned his approval as she cupped his balls, reached for a handful of Kleenex, and slid the condom off his cock.

  “I don’t remember hearing you ask me to fuck you like a madman.” Her skin felt damp under his fingertips, and he fanned his fingers out across her belly, trying to soothe away the fury of sex and replace it with tenderness.

  “Hey, look at me.” She cupped her hand under his chin and lifted, until he stared into the smoky blue of her half-lidded eyes.

  “I let you tie me up tonight. I trusted you.” She placed a finger on his lips, before he could blurt out another apology. “You have to trust me too, if this is going to work. If I don’t want you to do something, I’ll tell you to stop. I know how to say no.”

  When she kissed the top of his head, his throat tightened to the point where he didn’t t
rust himself to speak.

  “Leaving Dean was the toughest thing I ever did. But when I broke off the engagement, ignoring my parents’ insistence that I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and Dean’s warning that I’d never make it on my own, I set myself free.”

  “So you’re telling me?”

  “I’m telling you, I know what I like, and I’ve got the backbone to let you know in no uncertain terms if I don’t want you to do something.”

  “Message received.” God, he wished he’d come out of the mess with Lisa with half as much spirit as Val. As he tried to picture what his parents would make of her at the party next week, he stifled a chuckle.

  “What?”

  There was a note of ice in her tone. He’d gotten her hackles up. “I wasn’t laughing at you. Just trying to picture what will happen if my parents try and boss you around like they do everyone else.”

  “I suppose it’s too late to back out of the party?”

  “And deprive me of the chance to dress you up in something both elegant and revealing? No chance.”

  But joking couldn’t ease the dread he felt at the prospect of exposing her to his family. That, and he feared she’d read more into the mess of guilt and resentment that passed for relationships in the Winters clan than he wanted her to know.

  Chapter Six

  Val shivered despite the warmth of the evening, and Ian draped his arm over her shoulders. The night presented a kaleidoscope of lush images that left her feeling like Cinderella crashing the ball. From the moment Ian had picked her up in his silver Corvette rather than his Jeep ‑‑ his Boston car, he’d explained, which he loaned to Jon while he was at the cottage ‑‑ Val regretted her decision to accompany him. She felt out of place surrounded by hanging lanterns, lavish gardens, fountains of champagne, the sparkle of diamonds, the scent of dainty pastries and the salty tang of caviar, and the sea of tuxes.

  “I told you, the dress was a pitiful token of my gratitude compared to what you’d have to put up with tonight.” Ian’s arm tensed across her shoulders as he gazed out over the sea of guests like a hawk wary of hidden enemies.

  “You’re right. Bringing me to fairyland and stuffing me with gourmet food is pure torture. And I love the dress, thank you very much.” She swished her hips so that the blue satin swirled around her ankles.

  “Nice try, Cinderella, but I can tell you’re not comfortable here. And you haven’t even met the dragon lady yet.”

  No, she had yet to meet Ian’s mother. When she’d suggested they find his parents and wish his mom happy birthday, he’d mumbled excuses. Even without the psych degree, she’d have sensed Ian’s guilt and loathing. Damn, I’ve gotten myself mixed up in a family case study.

  As they approached a terraced garden, Ian eased his arm off her shoulders. “I’m going to go get a couple glasses of champagne. Back in a minute.” With a brief caress down the small of her back, he headed across the lawn toward one of the waiters circulating with trays of champagne glasses.

  Val sensed a hovering mist of indecision, as if Ian’s emotions had become detached and lingered behind. No, not Ian. Kevin. The air crackled with energy, and she shivered. As Ian moved farther away, the shimmering disturbance moved after him, then swooped back toward her. Something had Kevin so stirred up, she felt anger bubbling through her, as if it were her own.

  “Go. I’ll be all right.” Holy hell. If anyone noticed her lips moving in an apparent conversation with the rose bushes, she had no idea how she’d explain. But the words had the desired effect, and the uneasy presence raced after Ian.

  Before she could ponder why or how she’d developed a psychic connection with Ian’s brother’s ghost, or why Kevin was here despite Ian’s insistence that Kev never made his presence known in the vicinity of his parents, someone touched her elbow. Edgy from her encounter with the ghost, she darted backward, nearly colliding with the garden wall.

  “I’m sorry, Valerie. I didn’t mean to startle you. I noticed when you and Ian arrived and wanted to meet you before Deidre and Benjamin have a chance to corner you.”

  The stranger’s smile reflected genuine warmth, but Val couldn’t for the life of her place how he might know her. Like the rest of the male multitude, he wore an impeccably fitted tux. His coarse black curls showed hints of gray at the temples, and like everyone else here, he gave off an aura of money and power.

  “Draven, Ian’s friend will think you’re a stalker if you don’t introduce yourself.” Bearing down on her husband, for that tone couldn’t have been anything but wifely chiding, the tall woman in an iridescent green gown shook her head.

  “Ian didn’t warn you about us, did he?” With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the terrace wall by the garden. Neat rows of braids ended in a bun at the nape of her neck, and her cinnamon brown cheeks dimpled when she smiled. “I’m Julie Ellen Scott, Tyler’s mother.”

  “It’s great to meet you, Mrs. Scott.” Val reached out to take Julie Ellen’s hand, but Tyler’s mom pulled her close for a hug.

  Tyler’s dad smiled and patted her arm. “Tyler’s been talking about you since Ian attempted that unnecessary rescue on the beach. I’m Draven Scott. And please, call us Draven and Julie Ellen. You can save the ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ formality for the Winters.”

  Val settled on the terrace wall next to Julie Ellen. Jittery in the aftermath of the anger she’d sensed rolling off the ghost, she glanced around to try to locate Ian.

  “Ian’s over there talking with Jon.” Julie Ellen pointed toward one of the buffet tables. “The two of them may fight like angry skunks, but they do right by each other. Just make sure you don’t leave Ian alone with Deidre and Benjamin.”

  Thinking about the Winters twisted her stomach into knots. Until today, she’d assumed Ian’s feelings were a combination of survivor’s guilt and a sense that he’d let his parents down by leaving Winter-Corp. But every instinct insisted there was something sinister and ugly here, and she got the impression Julie Ellen thought so, too. Before she could ask Tyler’s parents to fill her in on the intricacies of Ian’s rocky relationship with his parents, the sound of Jon and Ian’s squabbling announced their approach.

  As they drew closer, Val’s shoulders tensed into a firm line. Sibling squabbling was so not on her menu tonight. “Enough!”

  Startled by her own anger, Val took a few steps to meet Ian, closing the remaining distance between them, and accepted the glass of champagne he offered her. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she could feel Kevin’s wrath gathering like a thunderhead, dark and ominous, and the arguing siblings frayed her last nerve.

  “Sorry.” Jon had the good grace to look sheepish about arguing publicly with his brother, but Ian just shook his head and rolled his eyes in Val’s direction.

  “I see you’ve met Miss Vee.” Setting his glass down on the terrace stones, Ian swooped down on Julie Ellen and delivered a crushing bear hug. “I’d tell you her bark is worse than her bite, but I know from experience that’s not true.”

  “You behave yourself.” Draven enveloped Ian in a hearty hug.

  The crackling presence of the ghost seemed to calm under the influence of the Scotts’ kindness, and Val relaxed enough to enjoy her champagne.

  “Heads up, Val.” Jon gestured toward the patio stretching along the back of the Winters’ mansion. “You’re about to meet the parents.”

  The portly man with a ruddy complexion and the pale woman wearing a simple black gown stepping through the French doors looked harmless enough. But as they drew near, energy seemed to spark and crackle around Ian’s mother. Val felt Kevin’s unrest like a cold hand on the back of her neck and smelled something that made her think of curdled milk and fear.

  “We’ll say our good-byes for now, but please, find us later.” With a hasty glance in the direction of Ian’s parents, Draven Scott hurried to join a cluster of men by the fountain.

  “Stay close to him, Val.” Julie Ellen looked from Ian and Jon to their approaching parents
, then leaned close and lowered her voice. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but a lot of anger’s coming to a head tonight. That poor boy’s spirit is uneasy.”

  Nodding, Val glanced overhead, almost expecting to see an image of Kevin’s corporeal form hovering close to Ian. At least she wasn’t the only one who sensed Kevin’s presence. With a quick hug, she motioned for Tyler’s mother to make her escape before the Winters bore down on them. In the remaining few seconds before contact, she brushed her hands down the satiny sheath of her dress and tried to subdue her unruly curls.

  Cinderella, prepare to meet the queen. From the set of Deidre Winters’ jaw, Val had a hunch this wouldn’t be easy.

  “Ian, Jonathan, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Without acknowledging Val, Deidre linked her arm through Jon’s. “Come along. Do you want people to think we’ve forgotten Kevin this year?”

  Two things happened in response to Deidre Winters’ words. Ian’s jaw clenched, as if he’d bitten into a chunk of iron and couldn’t swallow, and Kevin’s misty form rippled with angst so palpable, Val was amazed no one else noticed his presence.

  “Let’s get on with the memorial, then.” Benjamin Winters greeted Ian with a slight tilt of his head, and his son responded with a similarly cool nod.

  “Father, I’d like to introduce Valerie Keating.” Ian’s arm around her waist seemed like a protective gesture.

  “I’m delighted to meet you, Mr. Winters.” She shook his hand, then turned to Deidre and smiled, though it wasn’t lost on either of them that Ian had left his mother out of the introduction. “Mrs. Winters, I’ve been enjoying the beauty of your gardens.”

  Deidre’s skin shone as pale as milk, and the diamonds at her throat didn’t offer any more warmth than her polite smile. The black gown drew attention to the pallor of her complexion, and Val shivered at the thought that Deidre looked less a part of this world than Kevin’s ghost.