Page 38 of Fire and Ice

Jack felt his annoyance growing. He'd never been in this situation before. In all his relationships, the women usually rolled into him and hugged him across the waist. He would allow that position for a while before disengaging and setting them firmly aside.

And now, the woman he desired the most was showing him her back.

Knowing he was up for another battle, he edged closer to her. He saw her shoulders tense, and smiled sadistically as he tagged her around the waist, hauling her against him and trapping her legs with his.

"Jack," Maia hissed. "I can't sleep when my limbs are encumbered like this."

"Give it a try, sweetheart," he murmured lazily. "You might like it."

She continued to squirm. Her ass was rubbing against his crotch and damn him if he didn't find that arousing.

"Babe, unless you want me inside you again, I suggest you stop wiggling. You're making me hard," Jack said softly into her hair as he rubbed his growing erection against her to prove a point, laughter rumbling in his chest as she gasped in outrage.

"Go to sleep, babe," he bent down and kissed her temple and held her close. Her body was tense and rigid, her breathing uneven. After about fifteen minutes, her body relaxed and she finally fell asleep. Not long after, he followed her into slumber.

Jack thought he was dreaming: a child-like voice was speaking Russian. He woke up and realized that Maia was having a nightmare. She had somehow broken free of him and was moving her head from side to side, her hands gripping the bedsheets. Jack had a little grasp of Russian and realized in horror what she was saying: she was begging someone not to kill her mother and father.

What. The. Fuck?

Jack propped up on an elbow and started shaking her. "Maia, wake up babe."

Her eyes opened immediately. "Jack..."

"You were having a bad dream..." Jack started saying.

"Oh, okay..." she closed her eyes again and fell promptly back to sleep.

Jack stayed awake for a while, gathering her tightly to him. He was shocked at the revelations of her nightmare even if he had always doubted that Maia Pierce was her real name. Jack would bet his whole car collection that she was not of American descent either. He had always thought her features looked European, and he would bet she was Russian. She was getting too damn complicated for him. His survival instinct told him to run the other way, while another fragment deep inside him was demanding some answers and the latter part was winning. Jack was going to call in some favors and get the information he needed on Maia Pierce, damn the consequences.

CHAPTER SIX

Maia blinked her eyes open and noted the overcast sunlight filtering through gauzy, linen curtains. The gentle crash of waves of the North Carolina coast was lulling her eyes back to sleep. However, the unfamiliar weight of a heavy arm flung across her waist, not to mention the muscular leg shoved between her thighs, reminded her of the unusual events of the previous evening.

She had killed three men yesterday and then gone home and had the best sex of her life. With Jack McCord. And now she was spooning in bed. With him. Spooning! Maia was not a cuddler. She wanted her arms and legs free of any constraints. How she fell asleep last night in this position was a miracle and one she would not likely repeat.

Maia smiled, much like the cat that's had the cream, as she remembered the unrestrained, almost wild sex they had the night before. Wow. Jack sure knew how to use that hard mouth and hands of his, not to mention how deliciously endowed he was in the other department. She had not had the opportunity to give it an ocular inspection, but she felt it undoubtedly in her inner core muscles. Maia shivered in recollection—fine male specimen indeed.

"You awake?" his voice rumbled in her ear.

"Hmmn...nnn," Maia mumbled in response.

The hand that was on her waist drifted south, roaming beneath the waistband of her pajamas directly underneath her lace panties and hit the target.

Maia moaned.

"You're so wet," Jack whispered as he started kissing her jaw. "I want to see all of you."

He gently got her on her back, and then getting up to straddle her thighs, he lifted her tank top off of her. She instinctively tried to cross her arms over her chest.

"No, don't," Jack said as he pulled her arms and cocked her elbows on her sides so her hands were beside her head. His eyes were unreadable, inky dark orbs that trailed down her neck, collarbone and over her breasts.

He quickly took her lips in a quick wet kiss before paying homage to each of her breasts, just lazily circling the nipples with his tongue. By now, Maia could tell Jack was a breast man. His hands were busy tugging her pajama and panties down. He got off her and then propped himself up on an elbow by her side to take in her nakedness.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured in reverence. This time, when Maia looked back into Jack's eyes they were growing heated, hungry. His fingers lightly circled her nipples before stroking down her belly, his touch feather-light.

Maia wanted his mouth on her breast. "Jack, stop teasing."

But he ignored her as his hand played right below her belly button and drifted lower, straight to the mound between her thighs. Maia spread her legs instinctively as his fingers sought the moistness between them.

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