EDGE OF HONOR: On The Edge Duet: Book One Read online

  “Even under our shitty circumstances it does feel more relaxed than being back in Boston. There’s just something about having soft sand under my feet that automatically puts me in vacation mode.”

  “Maybe you need to move to a beach town. There are plenty of them in Massachusetts.”

  “Yeah, I could do that, but then I’d miss my easy commute to work.”

  “There’s always a trade-off for everything we want in life. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  “I guess I’ve never really given it much thought. What made you decide to buy a house in Cape Hatteras?”

  “I wanted a place that was far enough away from Boston.”

  “You were looking for an escape from your world from time to time?” I ask, glancing at him.

  He nods. “Something like that. And I once read that this area was nicknamed the ‘Graveyard of the Atlantic’ because of the treacherous currents, shoals, and storms. There have been a lot of shipwrecks here throughout history. And what can I say? I like pirate stories.”

  “Do you fancy yourself as some modern day pirate?” I tease.

  His deep laugh enters my ears and zips to my stomach, causing a current of flutters. “No, luv. I’m not nearly as cool as a pirate. I’m merely a man who lives one day at a time.”

  “Do you ever worry about your number being up?”

  “Not usually. Do you?” He turns my question back on me.

  “Only if I’m aware of a dangerous situation that I’m walking into. But even then, I shut those thoughts down because they’re distracting and I need my focus to be in the moment.”

  We come around a bend in the shoreline and Belfast stops walking, pulling me into his arms. “Look.” He tips his head to the left and I see the lighthouse.

  “I love it. I wish I had known this was here, I would’ve jogged in this direction the other day.” I stare at the white structure with the diagonal black stripes wrapping around its length. The top is lit with a light that’s bright enough to be seen for miles at sea.

  “This was a big selling point for me. It’s beautiful during the day, but at night it’s timeless. It could be two hundred years ago and we’re waiting for a ship to come in.”

  “I think you’re a closet romantic at heart.”

  “The only thing you’ll find in my closets are skeletons that need to stay there. Don’t make me out to be something I’m not, luv. You’ll only end up disappointed in the end.”

  His discouraging words surround me like a pall of black smoke as we begin the trek back toward his house. Our hands might still be linked together, but It feels like a giant emotional chasm lies between us.

  The walk back passes much slower due to the lack of conversation and the multitude of questions spinning around in my brain.

  Have I been romanticizing Belfast’s feelings for me? Have I made them out to be more than they are?

  Should I be thinking of us as friends with benefits? And temporary ones at that?

  When this is over we’ll either be dead or alive. Those are the only two possible outcomes. If we survive, we’ll return to Boston and most likely go our separate ways.

  Is there any real chance that he and I could have a relationship? I don’t see how it could be possible.

  “What are you shaking your head about?” Belfast questions, pulling me from my contemplation.

  “I was shaking my head?” I wasn’t even aware I was doing so.

  “You were. What’s on your mind?”

  I don’t want to be that woman—the one who inquires about his feelings for me. It’s always been my opinion that if someone truly cares for me, then I won’t need to ask. The proof is in his actions. But this is Belfast, and our circumstances are way beyond the scope of a normal relationship.

  “Georgia? What’s going on?”

  I turn my head and smile at his questioning expression. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m letting myself get too wrapped up in what might happen.” It’s not a lie. I am wasting precious moments worrying when I don’t need to.

  “Ahh, you forgot to stay in the moment with me.” He squeezes my hand reassuringly. “It’s not too late. Focus on the soft sand beneath your feet and the comforting sound of the tide rolling in and being sucked back out.”

  I do as he says, concentrating on each step I take. Cool, almost chilly, the sand embraces my soles, and the darkness makes the crashing waves seem louder and more volatile.

  “Focus on our hands clasped together,” he instructs, “and how right it feels.” My head snaps in his direction and I find him watching me. “Did you think you’re the only one who notices our intense connection?” His tone is amused.

  I sigh and give a half shrug. “What does it matter anyway? Our time is limited.”

  He halts our forward progress, placing both hands on my shoulders. “Everyone’s time is limited, luv. Forever doesn’t mean the same for everyone. Some couples get fifty years together, and for others it’s only days or weeks. And do you know what we all have in common?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “No one, let me repeat that in case you didn’t hear me, no one, knows how much time they have together. There’s no clock counting down the seconds and minutes for us. No calendar with a giant red X marking our last day. We’re all operating under the same principle—all we have is now.” His hands slide up each side of my neck, cupping below my jaw. He leans forward, his intent stare holding mine. “How do you want to spend your now?”

  There’s no need for me to think about what I should say. The words were poised on the tip of my tongue the moment he finished asking the question. “With you.”

  His eyes darken and his palms gently squeeze my jaw. “Are you sure?”

  My mouth curls upward in a small smile. “I’m sure. You’re the only now I want.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Belfast

  I hesitate for a moment, unable to believe the words I heard. Georgia recognizes my uncertainty and firmly nods.

  I slam my mouth down on hers, swallowing her surprised gasp. Her hands clutch my shoulders, nails digging in as she meets my tongue stroke for stroke.

  Bold and frantic, our mouths mesh and devour and our hands eagerly explore. Her fingertips trail down from my shoulders to trace over my biceps and slip under the short sleeves of my t-shirt. Hands climbing up my bare skin, her nails teasingly rake the upper part of my back. A deep groan rumbles from my throat.

  My palms land on her curvy ass, squeezing each globe and urging her against my impossibly hard cock. Grunting, we both rock together, trying to gain any friction possible. But the soft sand underneath our feet makes it challenging.

  Reluctantly, I drag my mouth from hers. Catching hold of her hand, I direct us toward my beach house without a word.

  Sand kicks up behind us from our hurried pace, and it feels like we’re walking up an endless hill. And my already accelerated breathing makes me feel short of breath.

  We pass the area where our bonfire was burning and I notice it’s out. I don’t worry about leaving the duffel bag on the deck. All I can think of is Georgia naked on my bed and making it a reality as soon as possible.

  By the time we make it inside the house and up the stairs to my bedroom, both of us are already removing articles of clothing and throwing them aside. I flip on the lightswitch as I pass by. There’s no way I’m not going to see every inch of her.

  Georgia’s naked from the waist up and so am I. Hooking her thumbs in the sides of her shorts, she wiggles her hips, pushing the material down until she steps free of them.

  Oh feck. She’s naked. She’s beautiful. And she’s mine.

  I don’t waste time asking if she wasn’t wearing panties on the beach. What does it matter?

  She steps forward, her fingers deftly unfastening the button on my cargo shorts. Tugging on the zipper, she slowly drags it down until my teeth clamp together with longing. Slipping her hands under the material, they meet my bare skin. A hum of pleasant surpris
e vibrates from her lush mouth.

  “Commando, huh?” she purrs, pushing my shorts over my hips and thighs until they land at my feet. My cock is throbbing and dripping pre-come by the time she grips me in her tight fist. I hear the wet sound of her strokes as she slowly glides up and down my length, rubbing her palm over the head each time.

  “Christ,” I husk, already hanging on the precipice of release.

  Still holding onto me, she backs up, sitting on the bed. She guides me between her legs until my cock is inches from her mouth. Head tipping forward, she teases my slit with the tip of her tongue, licking up the pooling moisture.

  “Mmm,” she hums when she swallows down my taste. So fired up from her reaction, it takes all my resolve not to flood her mouth with my come.

  Fingers gripping her hair, I allow myself the pleasure of fucking her mouth for a handful of seconds before I pull her from my cock with a wet popping sound.

  “My turn,” I growl, falling to my knees on the floor. Grabbing both her legs, I flip her backward until she’s lying flat on the bed. Palming her inner thighs, I spread her legs wide and stare down at her enticing, wet slit. The slick moisture on her lips taunts me. I’ve never felt such a feral need to bury my tongue in a pussy before. My stomach burns with hungry anticipation.

  My hands slide inward, thumbs tracing along the crease of each leg. Georgia moans as my mouth whispers teasing kisses over every pink inch of her. Guiding her legs over my shoulders, I flutter my tongue over her clit, whisking the tip back and forth while her hips sexily rock beneath me.

  “Brennan,” she pleads and my chest fills with warmth. I love when she calls me by my real name. It makes this real. It means that I’m real to her and not the man of the streets that everyone else knows.

  She clutches my head and urges me closer until I take the swollen nub between my lips and suck on the sensitive flesh.

  “Yessss,” she breathes out a throaty moan.

  Sliding lower, the point of my tongue dips inside her entrance, welcoming her sweet, tangy taste, and then in one long lick, glides through her slit. My mouth clamps down on her clit once more and she twitches from the combination of pain and pleasure.

  Two of my fingers slide inside her hot pussy. I hook and pulse them, calling forward her orgasm.

  Breaths sputter from her lips in harsh puffing exhales as she unravels beneath me.

  Swiping a forearm over my mouth, I climb onto the bed. Catching hold of her legs, still draped over my shoulders, I push her knees toward her chest and slam my cock inside her.

  “Georgia,” I call out hoarsely. Freezing in place, I absorb every single sensation her pussy brings forth. Tight, wet, and warm, she’s like the Goldilocks of cunts. She fits my cock just right.

  I watch the incredible sight of my cock slowly stroking in and out of her until my teeth clench with restraint. It’s a sight I could never tire of. Soft and alluring, she repeatedly welcomes me in until I know I can’t hold back any longer. My fingers grip behind her knees as I start to pick up the pace, thrusting hard and sure. My orgasm hits me hard and fast and lasts until I think I’ve released every bit of fluid from my body. When my cock finally stops pulsing, I’m weak and shaky.

  Falling to the bed beside her, I sprawl out and prepare to never get up again.

  Georgia rolls over, propping her head on her hand to look at me, wearing a contented smile.

  I put that look on her face.

  Pride fills my chest, puffing it up along with my next inhale.

  “Ah, Georgie, what am I going to do with you?”

  “A little more of what you just did works great for me.”

  I chuckle. “It was more of a rhetorical question, luv. I’ve been trying not to think beyond us being here, but every time we’re together, I fall a little deeper for you.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I place two fingers over her lips. “I’m not a person who worries about the future and what it might bring. I never care about people enough to be concerned for their well-being. I live my life day by day and it’s always worked for me.”

  “I don’t expect you to change for me,” Georgia interjects.

  Rolling to my side, I face her. “But that’s the thing, luv.” I drag a long, slow breath into my lungs and quietly release it. “I’ve never been scared of losing anything in my life. After my parents passed, I thought nothing could be worse than suffering that loss. But now, I’m terrified of losing you. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you safe.”

  She places her hand over my pounding heart. “You’re not going to lose me.”

  “I can’t, Georgia, because nothing in my entire life has made me feel the way you do.”

  No one has ever meant this much to me and I fecking hate how weak it makes me feel. Caring about someone means you have vulnerabilities that can be exploited and used against you.

  I’m not ready to share that four letter word everyone wants to hear because I’ve never allowed myself to get attached to anyone.

  At least not until Georgia.

  And it’s not that I don’t feel that deep emotion vibrating through every cell in my body. Love was always a word I scoffed at. I considered it a flaw, not a blessing, but now I realize how wrong I was. Still I won’t be confessing the depth of my feelings to Georgia. At least not now. Not until we’re back in Boston, safe and sound.

  “Brennan.” Her husky tone is laced with emotion.

  Hearing her say my name is the sweetest sound in the world. It makes every questionable moment I’ve lived through worth it.

  “I feel the same about you. Whatever this is,” she gestures between us, “it’s the scariest, most wonderful thing I’ve experienced.”

  She scoots up my chest and I raise my head, meeting her halfway. Our lips connect in a long, slow, kiss, ending our conversation like a period at the end of a sentence.

  We part and I draw her closer until she’s lying on my chest. She closes her eyes, burrowing into me like a kitten. Studying her, I notice the way her thick, dark eyelashes make crescent shapes on the top of her cheeks. And the perfectly straight slice of her narrow nose is perched above a full bow-shaped mouth. Smiling as I look at her eyebrows, I think about how the pair of elegant arches are hardly ever at rest. Georgia has an extensive range of expressions and she uses them often. Between her green eyes and the dark curves on her forehead, you can almost always tell what she’s thinking.

  Slipping from bed, I run downstairs to make sure the doors are locked up tight. Returning to my bedroom, I shut the light off and slip under the covers next to Georgia once more. Turning on my side, I curl against her back, wrapping an arm around her narrow waist. My hand stretched out on her stomach, and every inch of her pressing against me, I close my eyes and bury my face in the back of her fragrant hair. Breathing in the flowery scent, I do my best to shut down my racing mind, but it’s not working.

  Monday, my dispensary blew up, and now, five days later, so much has happened. My life has irrevocably changed in such a short time. After spending this week with Georgia, I can’t imagine a day without her in it. When we can safely return to Boston, it will be a huge adjustment to go from being thrust together twenty-four seven to seeing each other when we can.

  And what if she changes her mind about us?

  I’m not like most guys with a respectable nine-to-five job. Our differences might put too much pressure on our relationship and she won’t be able to deal with it. How would an FBI agent go about being with a criminal?

  And how would I, the common criminal, deal with being involved with an FBI agent?

  It’s not exactly good for my business. No one will trust me anymore.

  But none of that matters right now, because Georgia’s here with me, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure we work out. I have enough money put away to live on for the rest of our lives. I’ll give up my lifestyle if it means I can have her.

  Unfortunately, we have to get through our current situation before we can figure the rest out
. And I’d imagine trouble is coming for us any day now, and there’s really no way for us to be prepared.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Belfast

  Georgia looks so peaceful, I don’t bother waking her as I get out of bed. I stretch out and pull on my clothes quietly as I make for the door. I stop and lean against the wooden frame, taking one last look at her lying there so still in my bed. It’s a sight I thought I’d never see, and she’s more perfect than anything I conjured up in my fantasies. With her facial features relaxed and unguarded, she looks like I feel: content.

  I wander aimlessly about the house for a couple of minutes before deciding to head down to the beach and enjoy the view.

  The ocean is significantly calmer this morning, and I find myself lost in thought as I sit and watch the waves crash against the shore.

  I’m so wrapped up in thinking about the possibility of a fairy tale ending with Georgia that I don’t even notice the man walking up the beach along the edge of the water until he’s nearby.

  “Good morning.” He waves when he sees me and shifts his direction, walking my way. “Such a beautiful morning. Good to see you out enjoying it.”

  He seems friendly enough. But he looks like a rich asshole, probably here checking on his oceanfront rental property.

  “It’s a beautiful spot.” I keep it short but cordial. I’m not looking to draw any attention to myself.

  I stand and brush the sand from my shorts. I give a curt nod in the stranger’s direction before turning toward the beach house. “Enjoy it.” I wave and start walking back toward the cottage.

  “I wouldn’t have brought the girl.”

  My stomach flips and dread assails me as I realize I’ve fucked up. I’m unarmed and too far from the cottage to make a run for it. I turn back in his direction, calmly searching my periphery but can’t see anyone else in the morning sun.

  “I suppose it’s difficult to see them in all this sunlight. But don’t you worry, we are far from alone, Mr. Collins.” He smiles and I want to kick most of his teeth straight down his throat. “Let’s take a walk.” He gestures down toward the lighthouse, as if he’s welcoming me to a five star hotel. “Shall we?”