Under The Covers Read online

  “Then maybe I should say I’m leaving the evening open for whatever might happen.”

  “What is it you think might happen?” Mercedes had never been accused of not being forward. Which was probably why she sucked at relationships. Her insides churned as she lowered her attention once again to his muscular chest. If he had worn his shirt unbuttoned just far enough to torture her on purpose, she was in trouble. Although it hung loosely on his torso, his shoulders were broad, and she imagined muscles rippled under the cotton fabric.

  He reached for her plate without asking and began scooping portions of the food onto it for her. “At the least, we’ll part ways very stuffed.”

  His smile was irresistible. Mercedes leaned back, searching her mind for a safe conversation topic that would keep her mind off undressing him. Instead of returning his grin, she sipped again at her wine and then put the glass down. It had been too long since she’d drunk alcohol, and if she had much more, he would have the advantage.

  “Tell me about yourself, Jeremy Faulkner,” she said.

  He lifted her plate toward her but then held it in midair, looking at her as if she’d just asked something forbidden. “There isn’t much to tell. I was looking forward to hearing about what you were studying while out on the ocean. It sounded fascinating.”

  The fact that he didn’t want to talk about himself made her itch to press further and learn more about him. “We were studying plant and marine life off the coast.”

  “And all your work is still on that ship?”

  “Well, not all of it,” she said, dipping into her food and tasting it. She hummed her approval. “This lobster is incredible.”

  Jeremy brought a good-sized bite of the lobster meat to his mouth. She watched him chew and swallow, wondering if anything he did would turn her off. Too much sex appeal radiated toward her—the way roped muscle flexed in his arm, how his fingers wrapped around his fork. His dark blond hair was tousled, windblown, and long enough to run her fingers through. It would be silky yet thick. It tapered past his ears and curled against his neck at a perfect length.

  “Yes, it is,” he said, his hooded gaze making it difficult to know where he stared. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  “Are you?” She searched his face, willing him to give her his attention. When he did, she felt herself once again being drawn by dark gray eyes that appeared to smolder with knowledge of things to come that evening. Knowledge she wasn’t sure she’d be better off knowing. “Is that why you invited me to have dinner with you?”

  “So you’d enjoy yourself? Partially,” he admitted, lowering his attention once again so long, dark lashes prevented her from seeing where his focus lay. “And partially so I would enjoy myself.”

  “I see.” She slid more food onto her fork but then considered what he’d just said. “Did you know when you came here you’d be alone on this island?” Maybe he was lonely.

  “Yup. I was assured I would be.”

  That blew the excited-to-have-company theory out of the water. “Why do you want to be alone?”

  “It’s easier to work,” he said, eating more lobster and then putting his fork on his plate as he reached for his wine. “I’d much rather have a beer. How about you? Anything else you want with your food?” He rang the bell before allowing her to answer.

  “Everything is perfect,” Mercedes offered, realizing she was anxious to ask more questions. He was sitting across from her, eating with her, and she didn’t know a thing about him. While they dined, she had the right to learn what she could about him before they parted ways. “What is your work?” she asked when he put the bell down.

  One of the boys raced around the side of the cabin, almost sliding to a stop and somehow managing not to topple into the table.

  Jeremy told the boy to bring beer and watched the child run across the yard. Then turned his brooding eyes her direction.

  “What is your work?” she asked again when he simply stared at her.

  There was something interesting, if not slightly disturbing, about how his gray eyes, with hints of blue, darkened the longer he studied her. It was as if he had decided something while searching her face. She wasn’t sure she liked being analyzed without being allowed the opportunity to explain or verify whatever it was he thought he saw in her.

  “There are many ways I could answer that question,” Jeremy began slowly.

  “Oh, really?”

  He continued studying her, his gaze moving over her face as though memorizing every feature. The young boy didn’t run to the table when he returned but instead walked, tall and proud, holding two bottles. He held one out to Jeremy, as if handing him a treasure, and then stuffed the other one in the container of ice along with the wine bottle on the table next to them.

  “I guess there can’t be any harm in your knowing,” Jeremy mused, looking at the ice surrounding the beer and wine bottle after the boy left.

  “In my knowing what?” she asked, watching when he opened his beer and then tilted it back. His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he drank. A man’s neck wasn’t a part of the body she ever gave a lot of thought to, but his was perfect—not too long or short, and tan as his arms.

  “What I do for a living.”

  “Is it a secret?”

  “More than you know.” He downed almost half the beer and then returned to his food. The silence grew between them, but waiting it out worked in her favor. “I do research—similar to what you do.”

  “You study the ocean?” She didn’t like that he appeared so perfect in her eyes. She forced her attention back to her food—though she wasn’t sure she could eat much more. But she needed a distraction, or, better yet, she needed to learn something about him that didn’t appeal to her. Staying on this island for a couple weeks with Mr. Perfect would be her undoing and only result in regret after she left.

  “The ocean and other things as well. This island, the way people live, and what stimulates them to do what they do.”

  “Sounds like an interesting job,” Mercedes said, not having a clue what he meant. “So you do research then? For a particular company?”

  “Yes.” Jeremy had put away almost all the food on his plate and leaned back, nursing his beer while searching Mercedes’s face again. “So, let me guess, you’re from California?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head at his blatant effort to change the subject again. “Where are you from?”

  “Originally Nebraska, although I spent time in New York before coming here.” He studied her through those thick lashes of his, once again making it hard to know exactly where he focused.

  “That’s quite a change in cultures.”

  “More than you know. But you, you’re a West Coast girl.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Your actions,” he said, tilting his head slightly. His sandy hair waved around his face, and a single strand moved over his forehead. He didn’t move it. “So if not California, then north? Washington state?”

  “I have family in Seattle,” she admitted. “I’ve moved from one ship to the next this past year, spent some time in laboratories, so I really don’t have a permanent home right now.”

  “A rolling stone,” he mused.

  “I don’t really think of myself like that.” Mercedes wasn’t a drifter. Her feet were firmly on the ground, but her work kept her moving around.

  “So, being on this island was completely accidental.”

  “If it weren’t for our ship having engine trouble, I’d be in New Zealand right now with my crew, probably waiting at the airport.”

  “I hope you don’t regret being here too much.” He didn’t smile or give any physical indication he was glad she was here, other than his tone.

  Mercedes hated it when she couldn’t read a person that well. Usually she credited herself with decent insight into a person’s nature after she spent a bit of time with them. Jeremy’s comments seemed intentionally vague to her, as though he was trying to keep up the conv
ersation without saying anything of importance. She wasn’t sure why he intrigued her when she should have been annoyed. Everything she shared with him was up front and honest.

  “I don’t usually regret my actions,” she offered.

  Jeremy raised one eyebrow, which made her heart pick up its pace. When he slid his chair back, stood, and then extended his hand, she couldn’t get the notion out of her head that she’d just offered a challenge—which he’d readily accepted.

  “Let’s take an after-dinner stroll.” He took her hand from where it rested on the table, not waiting for her to offer it, and brought her to her feet.

  “I’m so full I don’t know how far I can walk,” she admitted, feeling his warm, strong fingers wrap around her smaller hand as he guided her from the table. “We were served an incredible meal.”

  “I’ll make sure Francis knows you approved,” he said, his voice lowering to a soft growl as he escorted her across the lawn toward the beach.

  They walked in silence for a few minutes, the warm sand clinging to the sides of her heels through her sandals. Jeremy stood several inches taller than she, and his arm brushed against hers more than once as they held hands. She was acutely aware of how solid he felt, how silently he moved in spite of being at least six feet tall. And although he didn’t speak, the way he held her hand, moved with her as if they’d taken many walks together, and kept his stride in tune with hers told her so much about him.

  He had intentionally avoided sharing with her what he did for a living, but she believed he spent a lot of time learning about people by watching them. He matched her step, kept his hold on her hand firm but not constricting, and avoided patches in the sand not conducive to her sandals. Jeremy was observant, and it made her skin prickle thinking about what he might be learning from her as they walked in silence.

  “Do you like to hike?” he asked, pausing and letting go of her hand.

  “Hike?” She rubbed her hands together and then was almost surprised when she looked up and noticed the rocky cliffs in front of them. She hadn’t noticed that they’d approached the end of the beach, which wasn’t a good sign. Being that lost in thought meant she wasn’t remaining alert to her surroundings. Regardless of how Jeremy appeared the gentleman, they were now very much alone, and it was growing dark. “I’m not really dressed for it.”

  “Good point.” He turned to face her, his gaze dropping down her body. “Tomorrow we’ll come back this way, and you can wear shoes to hike. That is, if you like the idea of exerting a bit of energy.”

  “Looks more like rock climbing to me,” she said, managing to laugh as if the thought didn’t bother her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent time walking like this, let alone breaking a sweat by doing something like hiking up a rocky incline.

  “It isn’t as bad as it looks. And the view from up there is worth the hike.”

  Mercedes jerked when he touched the side of her face, stroking a strand of hair behind her shoulder. “There are so many different shades to your hair,” he mused, his voice lowering to a provocative tone that sent chills rushing over her flesh. “Are you nervous?”

  “I wasn’t.” She hugged herself, stepping backward but then looking down when the ground appeared uneven.

  “Why are you now?” His soft baritone caressed her soul, creating a heat inside her that spread too fast, stealing her breath. He touched her again, his knuckles grazing her cheekbone.

  “I barely know you, and suddenly we’re very alone.”

  Jeremy laughed, but even his amusement was raspy, deep, compelling and dangerous at the same time. “That’s why we’re spending time together, to get to know each other.”

  “The more time I spend with you, the less I seem to know,” she informed him, lifting her face to stare at his. “You really haven’t told me a thing about you.”

  “I guess I find myself boring. There isn’t a lot to tell. But I have learned that discovering what a person is about often isn’t done through a question-and-answer session.”

  “How is it done then?”

  “You’re the scientist. You should know that answer already.”

  “I should?” His eyes were an even deeper gray at that moment, adding to the dark, compelling way he watched her as he spoke. “Why don’t you tell me how it is done?”

  “I can’t do that. That’s my point.” His knuckles moved down her face, and he lifted her hair from her neck and gripped her shoulder. With the slightest tug he brought her closer and then used his thumb to tilt her head. “You learn more about a person through experience.”

  Mercedes didn’t close her eyes when he lowered his face, coming closer while his lashes hooded his eyes. But she didn’t need to watch to know his intentions. Although everything inside her told her to step away from the kiss, when his lips brushed over hers, sensations washed over her so quickly she couldn’t move.

  “This is a perfect example,” he whispered.

  If Mercedes’s brain hadn’t seized up as her body had, there would have been a perfect, snide remark to throw out. But when he finished speaking, his mouth found hers again, his lips moist and warm and tasting of beer and lobster. She tilted her head slightly, but it was enough invitation. Jeremy moved his hand behind her neck, holding her in place, and eased his tongue inside her.

  The moment she opened up to him, he growled, and his grip tightened. He grabbed her hip with his free hand, his fingers pressing into her flesh. There was something about the slight aggression, his primal growl, and his lack of hesitation that turned her on a hell of a lot more than it should have. In spite of his intentional sidestepping around their conversation all evening, she was very aware of his intelligence. His suave manner—the air of sophistication about him even in his casual attire—showed her Jeremy came from a secure, stable background.

  Mercedes liked a man who was classy, who appeared to be successful and wealthy. She wasn’t a gold digger. Hell, who had time for those games? But that GQ nature in a man was one hell of a turn-on. Yet when he showed his aggression, growling and suddenly releasing an air of primal, demanding male domination, her insides soared with uncontrollable need. Raw, hard-core lust swelled inside her, and the thought of grabbing him, matching his sudden feral nature, made her even hotter.

  As if Jeremy had read her thoughts, his hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back farther, and he impaled her mouth. Mercedes opened to him, wanting all he offered, and managed to move her hands between them before he could press her body against his. His tongue twirled around hers, the primitive, age-old dance of discovery truly exactly what he had claimed it would be. As she pressed her palms against his hard, muscular chest, she was aware of everything about him.

  He’d just claimed that conversation wasn’t always the best way to learn another person’s nature. In that moment Mercedes learned a lot more about Jeremy than she’d learned all evening. Not only was he possibly the best damn kisser she’d ever known, his sex appeal radiated off the charts. At the same time, self-discovery came into play as well. She never would have guessed herself the kind of lady who would willingly fuck a man she didn’t know. But more than anything, she wanted him inside her—now.

  4

  Jeremy dragged his hand down Mercedes’s back, his fingers gliding through her thick, silky dark hair. When he moved his hand up her side, gripping her dress and yanking it up, her breath caught. The slight gasp let him know he’d exposed her ass and encouraged him further.

  Mercedes was quite possibly the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d thought as much when he’d first seen her. Ever since then, he’d imagined what she would taste like, how she would feel in his arms, her body pressed against his. None of his fantasies about her came close to the hot, sultry creature who arched into him. The way she tasted, how her body stretched like a cat—not to mention the total submission that had exploded inside her the moment he’d instigated the kiss—were hotter than his wildest thoughts about her had been.

  “H
ave you ever made love outside before?” he whispered into her mouth, his voice raw with the need that pulsed through him.

  “No.”

  He didn’t allow her time to offer more information or suggest they not have sex. Lifting her dress farther, he reached around and cupped her ass.

  God! She wore a thong!

  If that wasn’t proof she had planned on allowing him to find out what was under her dress, he didn’t know women as well as he thought. His brain rationalized this as he stretched his fingers over her smooth curves, opening her round buttocks and then moving lower until he felt heat scorch his fingertips.

  “You’re hot as hell. Fucking outside appeals to you.”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured but didn’t fight him when he began a trail of kisses down her neck.

  Mercedes’s head fell back, the arch of her neck as appealing as the moisture that pooled between her legs. He moved his hand, needing better access to explore, and damn near exploded in his pants when he stroked smooth, damp flesh. Her pussy was shaved and already wet.

  His cock throbbed and grew inside his jeans, demanding freedom. Jeremy’s fingers shook as he forced himself not to lift Mercedes and bend her over the nearest rock. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Very little of his brain wished to think rationally. A thick fog of lust descended upon him, making it even harder to plot his way through this without simply demanding she put out now and fuck him.

  But maintaining patience, making sure she didn’t balk, would be worth the torture he endured while continuing to explore her hot, perfect body.

  “Do you realize how wet you are?” he asked, tasting her skin and feeling the solid beat of her heart against his lips when he pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck. He eased his fingers inside her while moving his other hand up her body until he gripped her shoulder.

  “Yes,” she moaned, her hair draping over her shoulder.