Touch and Go by Michelle Rowen


  Forget hot tubs. Several ice-cold showers were in his future. At least until they got back home.

  He heard a sound—the soft creak of a door opening. He sat up in the bed.

  Carrie peeked around the edge of the door.

  “It was unlocked,” she said.

  He was dreaming right now. He had to be. After all, he’d had so many dreams about Carrie since they first met that he couldn’t keep count. However, this one felt very real.

  Just to be safe, he rumpled the sheets so she wouldn’t see he was dealing with a raging hard-on at the moment. Luckily, it was dark in the room.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  She smiled mischievously, and the expression warmed his insides. He struggled to keep his face neutral.

  “You’re concerned about me?” she said. “I thought you were ready to dump me as a partner.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not concerned.”

  “May I come in?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe we should talk tomorrow morning. It’s late.”

  “Late? What are you, a farmer? It’s only midnight.” Without waiting for permission, she entered the room, closing the door behind her. He was positive he’d locked it.

  She still wore the sarong and bikini top from earlier. His gaze moved slowly down the length of her. “What’s that?”

  She looked down at the blue tie-dyed scarf in her hand. “Just something I bought in a little shop down the street earlier. Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Sure. Am I dreaming right now?”

  “I don’t know. Do you dream about me a lot?”

  He didn’t want to answer that just in case this was real.

  She came over and sat on the edge of his bed. He shifted a little so he couldn’t feel the heat from her body that made him want to get dangerously closer to her.

  “Are you going to tell me your secret, Patrick?” she asked.

  He held her gaze. “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “Why don’t you touch anyone? Does it have to do with your empathic ability?”

  He stared at her for a long silent moment. “I have touched you several times. In the restaurant—”

  “That doesn’t count. It was a long time ago.”

  “In the lobby at PARA. Down by the pool.”

  “Those were only for a moment.”

  He swallowed hard. “Look, Carrie. I may have some problems, but I’m dealing with them the only way I know how. Your prying into my life will just complicate matters.”

  “So instead, you refuse to let yourself get close to anyone, to touch anyone, because if you do they might find out your little secret.”

  There was another long pause before he answered. “That’s pretty much it.”

  “I have a question, though.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Do you want to touch me?”

  It was such a blunt question that it took him by surprise. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”

  “But you can’t.”

  He didn’t want to say another word that might incriminate him.

  Carrie’s gaze moved down his bare chest. “So you’re reluctant to touch me, even though you want to. Interesting. But…”

  “What?”

  “Can I touch you?”

  He tensed when he felt her hand brush against his leg. “What are you doing?”

  “A bit of an experiment.” Her fingers trailed over his knee and up the length of his thigh. Only the thin cotton sheet separated them so he could clearly feel the heat of her skin.

  What the hell was she doing? Was this real?

  He inhaled sharply when she didn’t stop, but boldly brushed her hand over his erection.

  “Shit,” he managed.

  She smiled. “Nice to know I’m not the only one feeling a bit of lust in this partnership.”

  She lightly traced circles on the silky sheet, succeeding in making him painfully hard.

  “You’re trying to torture me,” he rasped. “Is that why you came in here tonight?”

  “Torture’s not exactly the word I’d use.”

  “Could have fooled me.” He hadn’t been touched like this in…well, it had been a hell of a long time. He felt frozen in place. Vulnerable. If this wasn’t a dream, why was she acting like this? It didn’t seem like her. Not after their argument earlier. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Don’t you like it?” She continued to tease him through the sheet and it took all his concentration not to lose his mind.

  “Carrie…”

  “I want to touch you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. And when I want something, I have a tendency to go after it.” Her hand returned to his thigh, and the long slow strokes along his leg to his cock were driving him insane with need for her. “Thus, my experiment.”

  “What experiment?”

  “Since you’re reluctant to touch me except for short moments I bought this so you wouldn’t have to.” She trailed the length of the cool silk scarf over his bare chest.

  He eyed it warily. “It’s not exactly my color.”

  Her lips curled. “It’s not for you to wear.”

  “Carrie…”

  “Put your hands over your head and grip the headboard.”

  He stared at her, shocked and aroused. “This is not really what we’re in the Bahamas for.”

  “Or you can tell me to go back to my own room.” She cocked her head to the side, holding the scarf in her lap as she patiently waited for his answer. “It’s totally your call.”

  He opened his mouth to say something else, possibly tell her that they had separate rooms for a very good reason. But no words came out. As if he wasn’t already turned on enough, a surge of desire moved through him at the look in her eyes and the promise they held.

  Also, he couldn’t help but be curious. Could Carrie touch him when he couldn’t touch her? He’d never put that particular theory to the test before. Nobody had pushed his boundaries like this.

  Carrie did.

  And…he liked it.

  He knew he should tell her to go. But instead of speaking, Patrick raised his arms slowly above his head. Beyond anything logical, he had a deep and uncontrollable need to feel her skin against his, no matter what he had to do to facilitate that.

  The next moment, he was gripping the bars of the brass headboard that was designed to look like a sun with branching rays. A sexy grin spreading over her beautiful face, Carrie began to tie the silky material around his wrists. Not too tight. Just enough to hold his hands firmly in place.

  It felt real. He watched her silently in the near darkness of the room. The only illumination came from the moonlight streaming in through the balcony window to their right. It bathed her face and body in silver.

  “Now, tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, then slid her hands from his shoulders down to his chest.

  He braced himself for an onslaught of empathic information, but there was nothing.

  “Should I stop?” she whispered. Her warm hands felt incredible on his skin.

  “No.”

  She leaned over and brushed her lips softly against his. “How about now?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t stop.”

  As their kiss deepened, he groaned, but it definitely wasn’t from pain this time. She slid her tongue against his, and the kiss grew hotter and deeper and drew another low growl from the back of his throat. He’d wanted to taste her from the moment they’d met and she tasted just as good as he’d imagined—hot, sweet, addictive.

  Carrie moved down his throat to his chest, leaving a damp trail of kisses behind. His stomach muscles flexed as she drew her tongue along his abdomen and navel, her hand moving to the edge of the bedsheet. Then, without hesitating for even a moment, she slid her hand underneath.

  Patrick gasped as she wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly stroked his length. He swore and strained against the scarf binding his hands. He didn’t care what she’d sai
d. This was torture—exquisite torture.

  After a moment, she pulled the sheet away completely so she could see him naked and hard for her. He felt exposed and uncertain, but the instant he felt her hot breath on him and then the wet stroke of her tongue, he lost all capacity to think.

  “Do you want me?” She looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Without waiting for a response, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. He cried out and his hips rose off the mattress. It was by sheer will that he didn’t come right then and there.

  “Damn it, Carrie…this is a dream, it has to be…” He could barely speak. “Untie me. Right…right now. Please.”

  Again, the smile played on her lips. “You want to touch me?”

  “Yes.” His forehead furrowed. “But…but I—”

  “But you can’t?” She raised an eyebrow curiously, still prodding, still looking for answers, even now that she’d placed him at a distinct disadvantage.

  For a moment he’d forgotten about his little problem. He couldn’t touch her. Even if he wanted to—and he did. More than anything.

  She slowly slid back up his body and stroked her fingers over the Egyptian healing charm lying flat on his chest—the only thing he currently wore since he always slept in the nude. He wanted to tell her everything, but something continued to hold him back, and it wasn’t just the scarf.

  Besides, he couldn’t concentrate very well at the moment. She continued to stroke his length and he felt ready to explode. He thought he could live without sex, without being touched, but one taste of Carrie Stanfield and he was greedy for more.

  Suddenly, she straddled his body and he strained against the scarf that held him in place.

  “What do you want?” she asked him. “Tell me the truth.”

  “You’ll know if I’m lying?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “So what do you want, Patrick?”

  “I…want to be inside of you.”

  “You want me. It’s why you’ve kept my picture all this time, but when you look at it, it just makes you feel more alone because of the decisions you’ve made.”

  He frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “You need me, don’t you? Admit it.”

  “Yes…I need you. Carrie, please—”

  “Do you know what else you need?”

  “What?”

  He closed his eyes as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, her breasts brushing against his chest. “You need to answer your phone.”

  “I need to—to what?”

  “Answer your phone.”

  And then, suddenly, she disappeared into thin air.

  “What the hell?” Patrick blinked and opened his eyes fully, finding himself alone in his bed with a throbbing erection and a buzzing BlackBerry.

  7

  JUST AS HE’D GUESSED, it was only a dream.

  He couldn’t help but feel the stab of disappointment as he grabbed his phone and held it to his ear.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Having a bad night?” Carrie asked.

  He fell back onto the bed and looked down at his cock. A cold shower was not going to be nearly enough to take care of that, unfortunately. He gripped himself and thought about Carrie, naked, sinking down onto him inch by inch.

  That image wasn’t helping this situation in the slightest.

  “You have no idea,” he managed.

  “Since you’ve been hiding from me—”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “Sure. Anyway, I’m wondering about tomorrow. When and where should we meet? I believe we have an amulet to recover.”

  “How about the lobby at nine o’clock? We’ll grab Will’s boat and take care of the amulet by noon.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  “Carrie—”

  “Yes?”

  “Where were you a couple minutes ago?”

  “A couple minutes ago? I was having a shower. I just got out before I called you.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t think it was a shared dream. That sometimes happened between psychics. Not often, but sometimes. There had been a remote possibility that she’d really been with him.

  But she hadn’t.

  It was highly unlikely that she’d sneak into his room and tie him up so she could have her way with him. He wasn’t that damn irresistible. But for a moment—well, he’d thought she was really here.

  “Good night, Patrick,” she said.

  “Good night.”

  He disconnected the call. While he’d been having his erotic dream about her, she’d been having a shower. Naked. With water pounding her body as she ran the soap all over her stomach, her legs, her breasts…

  Enough, he told himself. You’re going to be a professional and not think about your current partner naked, wet and soapy.

  He looked down at his arousal again.

  Well, a few more minutes of thinking about it wouldn’t really hurt anyone, would it?

  PATRICK DIDN’T LOOK AS if he’d slept very well last night when he entered the lobby the next morning. There were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed more than a little distracted.

  “Let’s go” was his less than cheery greeting to Carrie who’d already been waiting for ten minutes.

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  “Good morning. Now, let’s go.”

  Somebody was grumpy.

  “I have the map,” he said. “Will dropped it off at my room earlier with instructions, so we’re all set to do the recovery and assessment. I read up on Erzulie last night. If she’s really behind this, I have a couple incantations to bind her in place and keep her from casting any additional curses.”

  “Sounds, uh, good to me.” The entire goddess and curse situation was far outside Carrie’s comfort zone, but she knew Patrick was an expert on all of this. She was just along for the ride as part of her PARA training.

  After talking to Will yesterday, she’d wandered through the resort exploring the grounds. She hadn’t gone on a real vacation for years. Not that she didn’t have the money. She did. But tropical vacations such this just seemed too much of a throwaway luxury. Places like Violet Shores were meant for honeymoons.

  This was no honeymoon.

  While their heated discussion yesterday still troubled her, Patrick was much too sincere for her to ever accuse him of being deliberately hurtful. What he’d said was the truth, nothing more, nothing less. He was simply trying to warn her what was ahead if she didn’t practice as much as she could.

  Last night she’d had another dream about him involving a hot tub. She’d woken up aching to visit him in his room. Of course she hadn’t acted on it. He would have found that behavior extremely unprofessional. Part of her didn’t care. The other part kept her firmly in her own bed on the second floor.

  Patrick walked ahead of her. She could tell that something was bothering him. Then again, maybe he was just the kind of guy who was uptight about everything. He seriously needed to learn how to relax.

  She really wished she didn’t care about him. She’d seen his good side a few times and that helped to make up for any bad. If this was just lust she felt for him it would make everything so much easier to ignore. But two years was a long time to lust after someone. She was seriously infatuated now.

  Just as Will promised, a small motorboat was waiting for them at the dock, one of two boats available to the resort.

  “No driver?” Carrie asked.

  “Will’s let most of his staff take some time off with the hopes he can hire them back when business picks up.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “That’s a no. But I used to spend a lot of time on boats in the past. When I was younger I went fishing with my father nearly every summer weekend.”

  “Then you’re an expert.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, but I think we’ll be okay.”

  She had no reason not to trust him, so she gingerly stepped into the boat and sat down.

  She glan
ced around the disturbingly small boat, saw where the life jackets were stowed and grabbed one, hurriedly putting it on.

  Patrick raised an eyebrow at her rush to suit up. “You do know how to swim, don’t you?”

  She grimaced. “I usually stay at the shallow end of the pool.”

  He slowly put on one of the other jackets. “You can’t swim.”

  “Well, not exactly. Other than a really splashy and embarrassing dog paddle.”

  His brows drew together with concern. “If you’re worried about being out on the water—”

  “No, it’s fine.” She laughed nervously. “Just try not to sink the boat and I’m sure we’ll be okay. You’re amazing at mouth-to-mouth, right?”

  Her cheeks immediately flushed. She really hadn’t meant it to sound like an invitation. Or maybe she had. She’d be willing to bet Patrick was amazing at mouth-to-mouth.

  “I do have a certificate in CPR,” he confirmed, with barely a noticeable smile.

  “Then it’s all good. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” A change in topic might be a nice idea. “Did you sleep well last night?”

  “Like a log.”

  “Really?”

  “Like a log with insomnia.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Many things,” he said, and she felt his gaze on her. “You?”

  “I slept great.”

  “I’m happy to hear it.” But he didn’t sound happy. He sounded preoccupied. At least her telekinesis hadn’t done any damage yet this morning. She was trying to remain calm about it. She’d even done some yoga on the beach at sunrise. It settled her nerves a little and helped keep her focused on the task of the day. Get the amulet. Prove she could do her new job without any major incidents. Then continue to ride Patrick until she broke him like a wild stallion and he told her all his dirty little secrets.

  Sounded like a lot of fun, actually.

  Patrick pushed the boat away from the dock and started the engine. The island they were headed for wasn’t that far away, only a couple of miles, and it formed a triangle with the main resort and the smaller honeymoon island. The day was beautiful with a bright blue, cloudless sky. And hot—nearly ninety degrees. The heat from the sun soaked pleasantly into Carrie’s skin.

 
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