His dark eyes glittered as he moved against her. Her lungs constricted, and suddenly air seemed in very short supply.
“You are so not fair,” she accused. “Don’t you play by any rules at all?”
“I play dirty, Mel. You know that.” The slow gyrations of his pelvis literally stole her breath. No way would she be able to resist him. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t made love on a kitchen floor before.
While Paul McCartney sang about faraway troubles, Melia’s fingers curled around Johnny’s arms. Was she wrong to want him? No. Was she a fool to let him do this to her? Maybe. Would having sex with him change things between them? Absolutely.
“I really don’t think…” she tried. Then she sighed. “Fuck.”
His grin widened. “That’s the plan.”
She wanted to push away from him, but she laughed instead and let her muscles relax. When his gaze swept over her face, she shook her hair back, felt her body move and her mind go blank to everything except him.
Hooking her arms around his neck, she allowed the music to float her away. Not to some happy past moment, but to a parallel world where the last three years didn’t exist. How incredible would it be if everything that had transpired since then could be erased?
Johnny smiled at her and kept his grip on her lower body firm. She felt his automatic response and teased him by pressing herself closer and circling her hips against his.
“Better than frosting any day,” he said.
Which made her laugh again. Then gasp when he lifted her from the floor and set her on the counter.
His mouth found hers, hot and hungry. She let him explore, let him taste and take until her head was swimming and all her senses were vibrating.
Wrapping her legs around him, she shimmied to the edge of the counter, searching for deeper contact, center against center, fire meeting fire.
Need and greed collided. There was a war taking place inside her. Make love. Make him stop. Do it. Run. Give in to temptation…
She gave his mouth a quick nip and eased her head back. His eyes were dark, the same kind of darkness she’d lost herself in too many times to count.
Would one more time really hurt?
Her lips were swollen from his kisses. She ran her hands over the taut muscles of his back. She wanted to feel all of him, skin to skin, sleek bone and sinew—a ripple of strength and desire pressing her down, sliding into her, so deep inside he might never leave.
More, she thought, and tightened her legs around him. Her pulse thundered—or was that the storm far out over the swamp?
Didn’t matter, she decided. Nothing mattered except… “Damn.” She said it against his lips, and her fingers tensed on his shoulders. “I hate phones sometimes.”
Kiss’s “Rock and Roll All Nite” was a jarring sound next to the music on the radio.
“Ignore it,” Johnny told her.
“Love to.” She took a bite of his lower lip. “But it’s your phone that’s ringing, not mine.”
“I know it. Shit.”
On an aggravated breath, he yanked the device from the back pocket of his jeans and looked at the screen.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Laidlaw?”
“No.” He listened for a moment, then shot her a narrowed look. “What do you want, Ben?”
…
“Oh, I thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.” Satyr’s voice flowed like oil over the line. “You sound a little annoyed, Johnny. Is something in Deception Cove riling you up?”
Johnny put the call on speaker. “Not particularly. Town’s a bit quiet, but I’m good with it.”
“Quiet. Such an interesting choice of words. My understanding is that a few explosions—three, to be precise—have taken place recently. Speaking of which, how’s your wife?”
“Ex-wife. Holding together. She doesn’t panic easily. She’s curious, though, and so am I. You want her to die and me to suffer. I get that. But why the added attempts on my life?”
“The…what?”
Johnny glanced at Melia, who gave her head a bemused shake. He kept his tone casual. “Call me dense, but trying to kill me seems counterproductive to your plan.”
“You’re bullshitting me,” Satyr snapped. “Why would I want you dead?”
“My question exactly. Still, whatever you want for me—and in spite of everything, I don’t believe it’s death at this point—there’s someone in Deception Cove who appears to have other ideas. How’s Mockerie doing these days? Still the same old overgrown asshole who wants everything his way and doesn’t give a damn about anyone else?”
Satyr went silent for a moment. Johnny pictured the wheels in his head spinning forward and backward, but ultimately remaining in the same spot.
“You’re lying,” he said at length.
“Fuck that,” Johnny fired back. “I’ve got witnesses.”
“Who cares about witnesses. Do you have suspects?”
“Thought I did. The main one didn’t pan out. Ball’s in your court. I repeat, how’s Mockerie?”
“He’s fine. He’s great. Engrossed in work.”
“Like the person who’s been taking potshots at me?”
“No, not like that at all. If James took aim at you, Johnny, you’d be six feet under by now.”
“Unless they were only intended to warn.”
“Warn who, for fuck’s sake? You? No…” Realization struck. Johnny heard it in the way he drew the last word out. “Son of a bitch.”
“You two might want to get a few things straight between you before your plan goes all the way south, Ben.”
“My plan’s not going anywhere,” Satyr snarled. “I spent months that felt like years in that shithole prison while you drank and partied and screwed women to your heart’s content. While the woman I loved and you didn’t give a shit about put a gun to her head. Well, I’m out now, old friend. I have means, and nothing anyone does is going to stop me from getting what I want. That pretty ex-wife of yours is going to die. And when she does, the only thing you’ll be able to do is mop up the blood. Hold fast to your heart, Johnny Hunt, because I’m going to tear it from your chest and dance on it at her funeral.”
…
The party for Ethan was being held at Mabel’s home, a full three quarters of an acre of waterfront swampland. Alligators had been known to crawl up out of the river and wander around her yard, but so far none of them had caused any real harm.
There were twenty or more people milling around by the time Johnny and Melia arrived. A local band called Swamp Fever was tuning up by a patch of huckleberry bushes. Large tables groaning with platters of food had been set up down the longest side of the yard. Cas sat at the end closest to the water, holding a baseball bat and wearing a pair of binoculars around his neck.
“He’s on gator watch.” Mabel came over to peck Melia’s cheek and offer Johnny a forced smile. “I told Ethan seven o’clock, said I was having a few of the neighbors over to grill some steaks. Is Gert coming?”
“That depends on Bette’s mood. All About Eve is on TV tonight. It’s her favorite.”
“It’s also on Netflix anytime she or they choose to watch it.”
“Bette and Gert disagree on the integrity of a provider like Netflix. Am I hearing thunder again?”
“Probably. It’s been rumbling off and on all day long. Let’s just hope there’s no rain attached to it. You can help me in the kitchen after a few more people get here. Johnny can keep Alice Mae company.”
“Who’s Alice Mae?” Johnny asked when Mabel moved on.
“Ethan’s cousin. She likes men and motorcycles. Don’t let her talk you into an arm wrestling match.”
“No worries.” Johnny looked around in a way that told her he expected trouble. “I’ll probably be helping you in the kitchen.”
“I warned you that Mabel’s yard had a lot of bushes and trees and other hiding places.” Melia nudged him with her elbow. “We don’t have to stay, you know. I could call Gert, ask her to develop a sudden stomachache.”
Johnny kept looking. “Satyr won’t blow up a party, Mel. He’ll know I’m all over it. Worry more about our transportation home or your own front door when we open it.”
“There’s a promising thought.”