He opened his mouth over hers, and his tongue pushed inside as his hands moved along her back. One hand held still as the other found the curve of her ass through her dress and pulled her tightly against his very pronounced erection.
Shae gasped at the onslaught of sensations. She went through a mental list of the kisses she’d shared with different men, and nothing compared to this. This was desperate. This was all-consuming. She was confused, and turned on, and she never wanted it to stop. She willingly molded herself against his body and went up on her tiptoes for a better angle. One hand played with the back of his hair while the other roamed down a strong, muscular back, willing his shirt to disappear so it could be skin against skin. She’d just gotten to his waist when she felt something hard, and obviously not part of him. She pulled away with a questioning look, but he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was over her shoulder, and his expression was hard. He didn’t look like a man who had just been kissing her like she’d just been kissed. He looked focused and... angry?
“We have company,” he said.
She frowned at the odd words and turned to see where his gaze was going. That was when she saw the four men walking away from her house and toward them on the beach. They walked with purpose, obviously not a couple of tourists who’d wandered onto private property. “They’re wearing masks,” she muttered. She was just about to tell Tristan they needed to run when she saw him reach behind him and confirmed what she thought she felt. A small, shiny black gun was in his hand. He pulled the slide back, and she heard the little clicking of a bullet being loaded into the chamber. A cold tendril of fear raced through her and she stepped back. “Who are you?”
“We need to get out of here.”
She realized that he hadn’t answered her, but at the moment, she was inclined to agree with his assessment. Damask wouldn’t send four guys to talk to her innocently. She’d known the brick was only a warning. After what she’d done last night, it made sense he would send men after her. She should’ve been running all day, not out dining with mysterious strangers. Mysterious strangers who apparently carried a gun on them.
Without waiting for Tristan, Shae turned and ran. It was all open, and in the moonlight the men would be able to see her easily. She was all the way down by the water, so she’d have to run by them. Shit. She mentally thought of any way she could make it out of the situation, but came up empty. But she couldn’t just stay there. She had to try something. She risked a glance over at the men; she saw that they appeared to be aiming guns. Were they close enough to hit her? How good was their aim? How good were their guns? Dammit, she wasn’t equipped for this. But before they could fire, she heard a loud bang from right behind her. She flinched at the sound and tripped over her own feet. Before she even hit the sand, something warm and hard gripped her upper arm and pulled her up. Tristan was next to her, and he fired off another round at the men. It didn’t look as if he’d hit any of them, but it was enough to have them ducking for cover. Apparently firing first was a big advantage. She didn’t know how many rounds were in a magazine. She’d never even held a gun in her life. She just hoped it was enough to get them out of this.
Finally, they made it to the section of beach that had sparse bushes and plants. It wasn’t a lot, but in the darkness it was enough for her and Tristan to huddle down behind.
Shae fell into the sand, taking in deep gasps of air. She didn’t know whether she was out of breath from running on the sand or whether the shootout had left her hyperventilating. Something cold pressed into her hand, and she looked down to see that Tristan had given her his keys.
“Get in the car,” he ordered. He wasn’t gasping for air. He didn’t seem scared at all. In fact, he looked utterly calm. “Get to the car, and drive fast and as far away as you can.”
Her fingers closed over the keys as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Wait, you’re not coming with me?”
“I’ll find you. Go.”
She sat still in shock, and he gave her a little shove. It sent her sprawling on her ass, but also managed to burst her out of her shock bubble. She gave Tristan one last look before she started to run. Shots rang out behind her, and she flinched with each one. By the time she reached the McCormick house, she turned back but didn’t see Tristan. Where had he gone? There were more shots, but she couldn’t see anyone. There was too much brush and hills of sand between her and wherever the shooters had gone to. There had been four of them, and only one of Tristan. He had to be low on bullets. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t just let them kill him. But what could she do? She didn’t have a gun. She could maybe grab a knife from the kitchen, and that would be it.
And so Shae did what she was told. She ran to Tristan’s little yellow sports car and jumped in the driver’s seat. She gunned it, breaking every speed limit, and she drove out of the upscale subdivision, down the streets of St. Pete. It wasn’t until she reached the main highway that she felt the tears streaming down her face.
Tristan dove on his side and his shoulder came in painful contact with the sand beneath him. It might feel soft under his feet, but landing on the stuff sure as hell wasn’t comfortable. His heart was beating hard from all the running, but he forced his breaths to go slowly. He was nearly out of ammo and didn’t want to give himself away. He reached down and looked over at his watch. On the screen was a simple message. Three minutes. Toni had given him the handy little stress beacon a while ago, but he’d never used it before tonight. As soon as he saw the men approaching on the beach, he’d hit the little button on the side that signaled he would need backup. He wasn’t convinced it would work before, but he supposed this was the confirmation that it did. When did it first start saying three minutes? Was it three minutes ago? Or was it now? It wasn’t as if he’d been paying attention during the gunfight.
He was pretty sure he had hit one of the guys in the shoulder, but it was hard to tell. There wasn’t a lot of light, and his main focus hadn’t been to kill. It had been to distract them from Shae. He had been half convinced she was gonna come out of her house any second and start fighting the guys off her property, but it seemed as though she really had driven off.
Good. In situations like this, he didn’t need an untrained variable. He wanted someone who followed orders and did what they were told.