Bonded by Blood

chapter EIGHTEEN

DOM KNEW THAT to anyone watching, he must look like a drunk as he ran down the oyster-shell path to the cabin—his knees buckling every few steps, his arms stretched out for balance. It was midafternoon when he’d pulled into the resort a few minutes ago. Even with the tinted windows of the Porsche, dark sunglasses, a hoodie and a ball cap, the sunlight had sapped much of his energy—too much to allow him to vapor to the island. Although exhausted, he needed to see to Mackenzie’s safety himself. Chuck had assured him she was fine, but that wasn’t enough. Knowing she was on the DB list, he couldn’t rest until he was with her.

He clung to the railing, stumbled down the stairs, but on the last step, he tripped and sprawled on the pathway. As if a flimsy curtain was lifted, the unyielding sun pelted his face and eyelids with searing heat. His sunglasses and cap were gone—lost in the fall. He crawled on his hands and knees, and somehow made it to the cabin before he collapsed.

Her scent filled his nostrils but he didn’t feel her presence inside. He didn’t need to search the rooms to know she wasn’t here. The entry mat just inside the door felt bristly against the back of his head. He focused inward, concentrated, and picked up her latent energy trail. She was somewhere nearby.

He pushed himself up and made his way to the windows. Thank God the automatic blinds had been deactivated. He didn’t know if he had the strength to find the switch if he had needed to open them.

He spotted her immediately, walking alone on the rocky beach, wearing some crazy red boots.

How could he have left her, like he had his parents, when he knew the danger she faced? What a goddamn fool not to admit to himself what she meant to him. To assume she’d be fine without him.

He watched as she pulled her hair forward and over one shoulder, then she stooped to turn over a rock. His heart slammed in his chest and his throat was thick and swollen as he remembered that afternoon in the cemetery. Her hair, her graceful movements, her long legs. She entranced him now just as she had then.

Mackenzie. My beautiful Mackenzie. She turned then, stared up at him. Of course she could feel him.

A hidden reserve of energy surged through his veins. He made it out the door and down the three steps to the beach. When he saw her running toward him as well, his heart surged. She wasn’t still angry with him for last night. It was a sheer miracle he didn’t fall backwards when she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He hadn’t realized how empty he had felt until he was holding her again. His knees gave way and they sank to the ground.

“I’m sorry I left you.”

His fingers gripped her hair and he pulled her lips to his. Greedily, he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her neck, her earlobes. He couldn’t get enough. Oh God, he needed to make love to her, to have nothing separating them but skin. Share energies and—

If it were dark, he’d take her right on the beach, like he had last night. How had he ever thought he could leave her?

I love you. The words, his words, tumbled unbidden in his thoughts.

“I love you, too,” she said huskily as she pulled back to look at him. Her hair cascaded around them, shielding them from the outside world. Her eyes were heavy with passion.

He hardly heard the dull roar of the waves or the seagulls screeching in the wind as he pushed himself up and swept her into his arms. Rejuvenated by her energies, he carried her back to the cabin.

Not stopping to close the blinds, he slammed the door shut with his foot. His boots pounded on the floor as he strode into the bedroom. All that mattered was what he was going to do to her in about ten seconds. He needed her in a way that defied all logic. Given how her nails dug into his shoulders and her heart banged in his head, she clearly felt the same. He didn’t need to get into her mind to know that—her body language didn’t need translating.

He tossed her on the bed, kicked off his boots, and unzipped his fly. It was the only undressing he did. She shimmied her jeans around her ankles and wrenched one leg free. He was on her in an instant. With an otherworldly cry he’d never uttered before, he plunged himself inside.

“DARLING, I WANT you to know that when you’re ready, if you ever are, I’m ready.” She could see the doubt in his eyes. He obviously didn’t think he was strong enough, but she knew otherwise. She was sure of it. “I trust you completely. I won’t push you, but please know it’s important to me to give all of myself to you.” Her voice caught on the lump in her throat. She knew she’d break in half eventually if he didn’t drink from her. It was that vital, that important. “I want to be everything you need.”

His eyes clouded. “You are, Kenz. My God, you are, but—” He started to say something else, probably a protest about it not being safe. Some nonsense about him hurting her, but she shushed him with her lips.

“No talking. Just know that I want that someday. For now, I need you to love me.”

The rumble in his chest echoed inside her as his hands grazed lightly down her sides. Obviously, it was going to be slower this time. Slow and meaningful. Although hard and crazy was good, too. Sex with him was a drug—she was an addict who constantly needed more. She wanted to breathe in his essence and bottle him up inside to save him for later.

He cupped her bottom and lifted her onto his erection with an ease that made her feel weightless. He obviously hadn’t softened from what she could tell, and he slid in effortlessly again. They moved together as one, a choreographed dance both of them knew by heart. She was in a dream that she never wanted to end. If she could feel him like this every day for the rest of her life, she’d know the meaning of heaven on earth.

His lips caressed one nipple as his thumb rubbed across the other. She arched her back and moaned his name.

“I love how my name sounds on your lips,” he said, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. “I want to hear it from you again, when I lock myself inside you.”

Every nerve ending sizzled with anticipation as his large hands gripped her hip bones like handles and pushed her down farther. There was that hitch again and her body welcomed him home.

“Oh God, Dom,” she heard herself cry, not consciously forming the words, but nonetheless uttering them as he had wanted. Her body clearly responded to him with an awareness all its own.

With his warm hands spread wide on her thighs, he kept her clamped tightly against him. No thrusting, just gentle rocking back and forth. He seemed hypnotized by the swaying of her breasts, watching them through half-closed lids, almost as if he were waiting for the snap of a finger to spur him to action. The tip of his tongue darted out for a moment.

Seeing his desire for her lifted her to new heights. And just like that, he lifted forward and took a nipple into his mouth.

Oh God. She tried to wait, to savor the glorious sensations, to revel in the beauty of his chiseled body beneath her, but it was no use. Her muscles quivered as the pressure cranked to an almost mind-numbing pinnacle in an instant. With her fingers against the damp skin of his chest, the cords of his neck strained and he shuddered between her legs. When his sex pulsed inside, she crashed around him yet again.

MARTIN WAS PUTTING away the last of the art supplies when the front door buzzer sounded from downstairs. One of the kids must’ve left something. A quick examination of the art room didn’t reveal a stray backpack or anything else that looked out of place. Mackenzie ran a tight ship; the place was immaculate.

He glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. Dinner reservations weren’t for another half hour. Maybe Paul had decided to pick him up here, but surely he’d have called first. It was probably just the night janitor.

He rummaged around in a few cabinets looking for the cleaning spray and rag. All he had left to do was wipe down the tables and lock up. The classroom door clicked open, but his head was buried in a lower cabinet so he didn’t get up. “Did you leave something?” he called.

“Where is she?”

The man’s raspy I’ve-just-smoked-two-packs-of-cigarettes voice startled Martin. He bumped his head and turned around to see two men saunter into the room, their arms and legs moving in unison. With long black trench coats, combat boots and sunglasses, they looked like they’d just stepped out of The Matrix.

“Pardon me? Can I help you?” There was something familiar about them, although he couldn’t place their faces. Sweat broke out on his upper lip.

The shorter one yanked open a closet door. “‘Pardon me. Can I help you?’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

What the…

“The woman. Mackenzie Shaw.” The other one took off his sunglasses and even from across the room, Martin could tell something was terribly wrong.

His heart beat like a bass drum behind his eardrums as he saw the whites of the man’s eyes were actually gray.

Oh, help me, Lord. “I…I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t f*ck with us. We can smell her all over this place. Where is she?”

Smell? What the hell?

“There is no Mackenzie Shaw here.” What did they want with her? Although they weren’t the same two men who showed up at the University the other day, their mannerisms were exactly the same. They definitely were affiliated.

“I didn’t ask if she was here. I asked where she was. Big difference.”

Martin glanced around the room. The one doing most of the talking blocked the door to the hallway. The other one stood on the far side of the room. With the student tables between them, if he ran, he might be able to reach the door behind him that led to the adjoining classroom. Could he make it?

“Either you tell us where she is and we’ll show you mercy, or you keep quiet and we won’t. It’s really that simple.” The boss reached out his clasped hands and cracked his knuckles. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. Where the f*ck is Mackenzie Shaw?”

“Okay.” Martin took a step forward as if he were going to cooperate, then in a flash, he jumped backward and ran through the adjoining door into the other classroom. He could hear tables crashing as the men gave chase. He made it to the exit and yanked it open.

As he ran down the stairs two at a time, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and speed dialed her number. Damn. Straight to voice mail. They were at the top of the stairs now, barreling down.

“Two men. After you.” He could hardly get the words out. They were right behind him. The short one was laughing again as if he were enjoying himself.

Something heavy hit him square in the back and he fell forward on the last stair and slid across the tile floor of the lobby, his chin acting as a rudder. The phone flew from his hand and shattered against the receptionist’s booth.

Strong hands grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and flung him through the air. He heard a high-pitched screeching again and thought at first it was the short man until he realized the sound had come from his own lips. It was his own screams he heard as his body smashed against the far wall of the lobby and he fell to the ground like a rag doll.