Gone Tropical (22 page)

“Oh, yeah,” he said with a grin and dropped his towel.

She glanced down.
Well, okay then.

He ran a hand slowly over her abdomen and thighs, trailing his fingers back up between her legs, cupping her, his thumb rubbing against her most sensitive parts. Her skin tingled and she was wet and ready. She pushed herself against his hand welcoming the friction, moaning against his lips, kissing him, teasing his tongue with hers. She licked his neck, his lips, his face, bit into his shoulder to prevent calling out.

She searched Jake’s face. Emotions played over his features and she realized the need was there, as strong as hers. His green hazel eyes had turned into a smoky brown. It wasn’t lust. It went deeper than that. And this wasn’t about thank you sex, either, at least not anymore.

He met her gaze. “Second thoughts?” he asked gently.

“None at all.”

His head lowered, he kissed her neck, her chest, and covered one breast with his hand, gently fondling, while he captured the other nipple with his mouth and sucked. A tremor ran from her breasts down to where his other hand had gone back to working its magic on her lower parts. A tremor shot through her, shuddering at her core. She almost came right then, but he broke away, sliding down her body, licking and tasting, and trailing his tongue over her abdomen until he was on his knees on the hard floor.

It was pure, delicious, agony and she tensed in anticipation.

“Let go, Amy, relax, it’s me, Jake,” he whispered.

Her skin prickled and she shivered with delight. Both of his hands reached up as he knelt in front of her. He blew tiny warm breaths along the inside of her thighs and licked her there, then blew on the damp areas, sending shivers right up her spine.

“That’s it babe, let go. You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

She tried to resist the feelings storming through her body, the thoughts swirling through her mind. He’d go back to California and she’d stay in Australia for a while. It didn’t have to mean anything else, two people taking comfort in each other. The thought fuzzed around its edges, and she gave up, gave in to the sheer pleasure of being with Jake. He licked and tasted and flicked with his tongue, teasing, until every nerve ending in her body went white hot and her vision blurred. She felt the side of the bed behind her legs and leaned against it steadying herself, and every sane thought she’d ever had left her brain and turned her into a puddle of mush.

His hands cupped her butt and she held his head, loving him with her body, moving against him in rhythm with his tongue’s probing movements. She cupped his ears and held him hard to her. Then she came against his mouth in a flash of heat that coursed through her body, reds and purples blurring into white hot fire, and finally leaving her weak and trembling as current after current ran through her.

And she called out his name, over, and over, and over again.

And silently she loved him.

He eased her down onto the bed and kissed his way up her body, stopping to nuzzle, to blow warm air over licked spots, to nibble and tease, until she was about to go out of her mind. How could she possibly climax again? But she did, and shuddered with tremor after tremor. Then he slipped on protection and entered her, and she wondered at the fullness, the fit of him, and how perfect they were together. She shut her eyes, making a memory, wanting to hold the moment in time, keep it forever locked in her heart. She gripped him tight with her muscles.

He groaned against her ear and whispered, “Slow down.”

She couldn’t. She wanted him thrusting hard and hot and heavy above her. She wanted to hold him inside of her forever, brand him as hers. She raised her hips to meet him, taking him deeper inside of her, loving the feel of him and never wanting this to end. “This is for you,” she murmured and kissed his chest.

He murmured something unintelligible against her neck and his thrusts came hard, and harder. She wrapped her legs around him, running her feet up and down his lower back. Playing until the heat sparked again within her abdomen and fire consumed her. She could never let him go now, and when she opened her eyes and met his she knew she wanted to be with him forever. And that scared her. Could she trust herself? Would she drive him away with need?

“Stay with me, babe,” he whispered.

She rocked with him, finding his rhythm. Whatever this was, whatever it would become, she was thankful for this moment. His eyes glazed over, and she closed hers. Her breath came faster, and their thrusts melded into a rhythm taking her higher and higher and with abandonment she’d never experienced before. In that moment, just before he climaxed, she knew nothing in this world would ever be the same again. And she sent out a silent prayer to the universe to make Jake Turner her one true love.

When he shuddered inside her, releasing a groan of satisfaction, she rocked against him feeling herself tighten and explode all in the same moment. Then they fell into each other, hanging on like their lives depended on it, and lay wet and spent, capturing their breath, slowing their pulses, and grinning like a couple of fools.

“That was amazing,” Jake said after a few moments had passed. “You are amazing.” He reached over and stroked her hair, pushing the tiny wet strands off her forehead.

“You are,” Amy said, and grinned so wide she thought her face would split. “Damn, I didn’t even know I was multi-orgasmic.”

Jake laughed and rolled flat on his back with his arms above his head. “You’re going to kill me. Not that I’m complaining. I can think of worse ways to go.”

“Me too, it was so hard not to call out though, you know, with Sarge and the family two cabins away.”

“You screamed.”

“You think I screamed? Honey, that was a whimper.” Amy laughed. She settled her head on his chest, loving the manly scent of him, closed her eyes, and felt her body drift into the super-satisfied state only a tremendous climax can bring.

“Sounded like you were having a good time.” Jake eased up on one elbow to peer down at her. “You called out my name.”

“Looking for more compliments, huh?” She flicked at one of his nipples. “If you want to hear screams of pleasure, stick around.”

Jake flipped her onto her back and leaned over her. Her eyes flew open and she laughed.

He kissed her forehead, lips, and earlobes. “I intend to,” he said.

Chapter Eighteen

Stuart’s clothes were still damp, and there was as much rain in Cooktown as there had been on the island forty miles out to sea. He figured he’d rent a car and get further inland. Get closer to Meg.

The helicopter touched down on a small landing strip on one side of the Cooktown Airport terminal. The low building was a small Queenslander, painted cream and white and shining underneath the overhead lights. It was sheltered by the umbrella of a huge tropical tree, the branches about to snap off at any moment.

Probably break just as I walk beneath, with my luck.

“Wait a couple of minutes,” the pilot yelled.

Stuart nodded and unbuckled. He reached for his bag.

“Okay, remember to stay low and go straight ahead to those doors,” the pilot said, and indicated the direction. Not that Stuart could see much of anything in the dark and the rain.

“Thanks,” he yelled, and jumped down onto the tarmac making a dash for the terminal, his bag swinging by his side. The helicopter lifted off and headed down the coast.

Damn.

The place was closed up. Nobody had told him. Car rental would be inside, too. What had he expected? It was probably close to three a.m. and Cooktown was a one-horse-town. He shaded his eyes and tried to see through the window. He’d have to wait here for hours, or find lodging. And of course there was no taxi rank.

Dark sheets of rain fell and lightning arced through the black sky. He pulled his raincoat tight around his waist, stepped out onto a driveway that led to “who the hell knew where,” ducked and braced. The wind hit him in the gut and blew his hat way out onto the runway. He trudged along, his hair long, wet, and clinging around his neck.

He dragged his freakin’ suitcase behind him. A sign flapped around in the wind and rain. Charlotte Street. The main drag. An old fashioned hotel, named Top Pub, came into view. Even if there were no rooms, he’d take refuge and pay to sleep on a couch. He rang the night bell and an elderly woman turned on a flashlight, her blue-rinse hairdo gleaming beneath it. He could see her behind the glass door as she tied her dressing gown.

A man walked up behind her with a shotgun raised. He moved to one side and slid open a small window next to the door. “Waddaya want?” he growled.

More guns. Not that he could blame him. The man was just protecting what was his.

Stuart flinched at the sight of the rifle pointed through the opening. “I need a room for the rest of the night. I’ll pay cash.” He reached for his wallet and peeled off an obscene number of bills.

The man grumbled and slid the chain off the door. “Electricity’s out.”

Stuart nodded, heard locks unlocking and gave silent thanks for escaping the island, for a warm bed, for a chance to see Meg again.

****

Jake awoke with Amy’s head on his chest, and his left arm numb. It was still dark out, but he was wide awake. The sun usually streamed through the cracks in the shutters by six a.m. Here in the north, you practically went to bed in sunlight and woke up to sunlight. The soft but steady sound of rain drummed on the corrugated iron roof.

God, she felt wonderful. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d felt this way, or if he ever had. He’d figured feelings were overrated. He smiled down at Amy and dropped a kiss in her hair. Must be the middle of the damn night, it was pitch black outside. So, why was he awake? There it was again, the strange noise he’d heard before. Something slapped the side of the cabin. Amy stirred, gave a moan that stirred his loins, then rolled up into the fetal position and pulled the sheet up over her back. He slipped out of the bed.

Inside the bathroom, he closed the door and switched on the light and peered twice at his watch.
Ten after six? How could that be?
He and Sarge were going to the island today and had planned to leave by six thirty. It was still dark out, and damn noisy. He flipped off the light, opened the door and reached into the pocket of the baggy shorts he’d worn the night before. He pulled out his knife and unsheathed it, grabbed the flashlight and stepped out onto the verandah.

Wind whipped branches of the trees and twisted palm fronds every which way. A huge frond slapped against the side wall of the cabin, flipped around, slapped again. Dark clouds filled the sky beyond the ridge. It was so black it seemed like midnight. He grabbed the frond and hacked through it with the knife, then dropped it over the railing to the ground below.

He’d let Amy sleep, go to the lodge, get a weather report, then wake up Sarge. It had been a rough night. Jake was certain Sarge could use the extra twenty minutes of sleep.

****

Jake listened to the news, his butt barely on the chair, positioned to jump up and run to awaken Sarge. But he knew to stay put, listen to the whole damn thing, and take notes.

Cyclone Peter had begun as a low pressure system over the eastern Coral Sea two days ago, and had formed into a tropical cyclone last night, about 600 miles off the Queensland coast. It had gained in intensity until midnight then lessened to a category two. It hit landfall north of Cooktown, bringing severe winds, gusting up to 150 kilometres an hour, downing coastal trees, and causing severe flash-flood warnings.

The worst of the storm caused by Cyclone Peter was over. Queensland had dodged a bullet. Peter had already downgraded to a tropical low pressure system as it moved further inland.
Well, that’s good news.
He glanced up from the radio as Meg walked into the room.

“Thanks,” Jake said, and reached out for the strong black coffee she placed in front of him. He didn’t turn around, just kept his concentration on the news report.

The radio announcer said in a deep monotone, “Another low pressure system, Robert, is building further out to sea and is gaining in magnitude. It appears at the present moment it will touch down on the mainland within two days, wreaking havoc on Cooktown once again. With the increased force, it is expected to cause considerable damage to outlying regions.”

Jake glanced up at Meg then back at his notes.

“It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?” she asked and stood beside the desk, her palm pressed flat on the tabletop. “I haven’t had time to listen since five o’clock.”

Strain showed around her mouth and eyes. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her, learning what she had about a man she’d been loyal to for several years. A man she’d once imagined being in love with. It looked like she hadn’t had a wink of sleep. Yet, she’d helped her parents prepare for an impending disaster.

He shook his head. “They seem to be repeating the same things over and over.”

“The other disaster,” Meg said. “The man who attacked Amy, he’s awake. Dad brought him inside the lodge when the storm broke.”

Jake spun around. “He’s still restrained?”

“Yes. Dad fed him breakfast and tried to talk with him, he wouldn’t give anything away. He just said he’s loyal to his country. Dad asked which country, but he only shrugged.”

Jake wasn’t one for strong-arming anyone, but he might put some pressure on the bloke later, after he’d spoken to Sarge. “Thanks. I’ll check with your Dad in a minute, one disaster at a time, eh? Hang on, they’re giving evacuation warnings.”

They both listened to the radio announcer: “All residents of Cooktown and southwest of the city, within a one hundred mile radius of Laura, are on warning. Queensland’s premier, Bob Drury, declared the entire north of Queensland a disaster situation earlier this morning. He issued a statement giving local governments the authority to enforce mandatory evacuations.”

“That includes us,” Meg said. She pulled up a chair alongside the desk.

“It’s not mandatory, yet,” Jake said. He turned the radio volume up.

“Shelters will be provided in Cairns,” the news reporter announced. “The high school gymnasium will be the main shelter. There will be no flights in or out of Cooktown Airport. Cairns Airport may be closed as of ten p.m. tonight, in case the cyclone changes direction and makes land to the south.”