Without hesitation, Hayley lifted her skirt, holding its edges up to expose her panties.
Logan went to his knees and pulled her underwear down to his ankles. She stepped out of them, her desire quickening when she felt his breath on her thighs.
“Part your legs for me.”
She did as he asked, and groaned as his tongue dipped into the heat of her sex. “I don’t know if I can stand.”
“Good,” he said, his fingers digging into her buttocks. “I want you on your hands and knees.”
“Oh, God,” Hayley moaned. She went down on her hands and knees and offered her ass to him, her breathing reedy, her heart thumping fiercely, as she waited to feel him against her. Smells of the ocean’s brine, the sweet grasses in the dunes to her left assailed her. The scents of hope and desire as heady as those of ocean. The sand was soft and warm under her palms and knees, nature’s silky bedding.
She heard Logan’s shorts hit the beach, felt him kneel behind her. The thick length of his cock slid between her thighs and rubbed her sensitive clit. Little waves of bliss rolled through her. He entered her slowly, and she gripped him tight as he began to thrust. The sway of their bodies, the smack of flesh on flesh, oh yes. Joy shuddered through her, its heat melting her at the very core.
“Hayley, Hayley,” he repeated her name like a prayer as he thrust so sweetly and completely.
She breathed deeply, feeling the nearness of her orgasm. He increased the pace, his chest rubbing against her back, thinly protected by the dress. And when he said, “I love you, Hayley,” her entire world shattered into rapturous shards.
“Oh God. Yes. Yes!” She came hard. Her screams echoed down the beach.
Logan pulled her from the ground, her legs straddling his as she twisted to take his lips while his gaze held hers, dark with desire, glazed with passion. She stroked herself over him, taking him deep until his groans turned to cries as he loosed his hot seed inside her.
Seven
From his hiding place in Betty Lewis’s garage, Riley waited patiently for her to arrive home. Once he got this job done, he could attend to Miss Nelson. His contact at Bureau of Land Management had come through for him, finding a tiny obscure island off the coast that had been purchased by Logan Greyson. Stupid on his part. But in the rich guy’s defense, Riley would never have put a poorly paid social worker with a billionaire playboy. Overhearing Nelson’s phone call had been all he needed to find out where Hayley was holed up. He’d relayed the information to Santos along with the confirmation of Ellie’s death. He chuckled. It was all a part of his outstanding customer service.
He heard the motor of the garage door opener begin to whir. He stepped back into the shadows and watched Betty pull her car into the garage. The door closed. Now, the only light in the darkened space was the dome light in Betty’s car.
She’d opened the driver’s side door but hadn’t gotten out. Her quiet sobs drifted into the gas-tainted air.
Tears were good. It would make her suicide more believable. He crept around the trunk and pulled out a tiny gas canister. One blast of this substance in Betty’s face and she’d pass out. There were perks to being a spook, including access to chemicals most people didn’t know existed. This one was odorless, effective, and would disappear from the bloodstream within half an hour. The only thing a toxicology report would find was the carbon dioxide that killed her.
Just as he stepped forward, canister at the ready, the interior door that led to the house opened. “House is clear, Betty.”
Stunned by the appearance of FBI agent Ben Nelson, he froze.
Ben smoothly withdrew his 9mm and aimed at Riley’s center mass.
“Drop the canister.”
For a moment, Riley’s mind refused to work. Those mere seconds were enough for Betty to get back into the car and slam the door shut, locking it.
Shit.
He dropped the canister, and it rolled under the car. He lifted his hands and walked forward.
“Stop.”
Riley dared to move closer to the agent. Close enough and he could engage in hand-to-hand. He’d win in a minute or less.
“Another step, buddy, and you get a bullet.”
Riley stopped, his mind racing. What to do? What to do?
“Turn around. Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”
Fuck this. Riley appeared to obey instructions, but then he rushed forward, going for the gun.
The weapon discharged.
He jerked backward but was undeterred.
Two more shots.
Riley sank to the floor.
He heard the agent’s frantic calls for backup and the choking sobs of Betty Lewis.
And then there was nothing.