The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm

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He watched as she got into her rental car, a sense of anticipation growing inside him. He had every intention of kissing her again. And if that led to something more, he wasn’t going to worry about the future. He didn’t need just any woman right now, he needed Amy Engalls. She was the only woman who could satisfy him.

But though she appeared to be quite confident and self-assured, there was an underlying vulnerability to her. He saw it in the way she deftly changed the subject when he tried to get her to talk about herself. At first, he’d assumed it was just a reporter’s method of always turning the question back on the subject. But over the course of dinner, he’d begun to believe that she figured her life might seem uninteresting to him.

In truth, he wanted to learn everything about her. What did she do on a normal Saturday night? Where did she live? What kind of music did she enjoy? They were all such insignificant questions, but he was curious.

They reached the cottage and he pulled the Range Rover to a stop in the sandy drive, then jumped out and jogged to her car. Mal opened the door and held out his hand, helping her out. “Do you have a cardie or a jacket? It’s probably going to be a bit chilly.”

“I don’t,” she said.

“I’ll grab you something,” he said. “Wait here.”

He ran into the house and pulled a fleece jacket from the hook near the door, then grabbed a second for himself. When he returned, she was standing at the bottom of the steps. Mal held out the jacket and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. Then he spun her around and zipped the front.

“Cozy,” she said, rubbing her arms.

He glanced down at her bare legs. “Do you want to put on some pants?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

A breeze had come up and it whipped her honey-blond hair around her face. He reached out and tucked a strand behind her ear. “Let’s go, then,” he said.

Mal held out his hand and she placed her fingers in his. They walked down a sandy path to the beach. The sun had set a few hours before and the stars had come out, pinpricks of light scattered across the inky black sky.

Waves rolled against the shore and they strolled to the edge of the water. She kicked off her shoe and dipped her toe in. “It’s cold.”

“It never warms up enough to surf without a wetsuit. Not like California or Hawaii.”

She kicked off her other shoe and waded in, reaching down to run her fingers through the water. She didn’t see the wave rolling in behind her, but Mal did. He figured the water was shallow enough that she could maintain her balance, but the minute the wave hit her calves, her feet got swept out from under her and she fell into the water. She screamed as the wave surrounded her.

Cursing softly, Mal reached her in a few short strides and pulled her upright. Amy clutched his jacket, her hair stuck to her face in damp strands, her breath coming in deep gasps.

And then suddenly, she started laughing, a boisterous giggle that came from deep inside of her. “What is wrong with me?” she shouted. “Why can’t I stay on my feet?”

Mal reached down and scooped her up, then carried her out of the water. “I’m not sure. Maybe you’re better off your feet.”

She shivered, crossing her arms over her breasts.

“I think we’d better go find you some dry clothes.”

“Well, at least I can say I’ve been swimming in the Indian Ocean. That’s a first,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It’s actually the Tasman Sea.”

“Even better,” Amy said. She brushed the wet hair out of her eyes. “Oh, my shoes!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come out in the morning and find them. They’ll be washed up on the sand.”

“I’m going to need shoes.”

“Not tonight,” he said. “I don’t think you should do any more walking. You might end up in the hospital.”

* * *

WHEN THEY REACHED the warmth of his cottage, Mal set her down on her feet and quickly stripped off the sodden jacket. The dress she wore beneath clung to her skin, made almost transparent by the damp. Amy plucked at the fabric with her fingers. By now she was cold to the bone and shivering. But the trembles coursing through her body had less to do with the cold and more to do with the way he was looking at her—as if he might devour her at any moment.

“Why don’t you jump in the shower and warm up. I’ll get you something to wear. The bathroom is just down that hall,” he said.

Amy nodded and turned in that direction. But at the last moment, he caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers, only this time, it felt like he was sending her a message: things were about to get much more intimate. If she wanted to leave, she ought to do it now.

Amy didn’t need to think twice. She was sure of what she wanted. And to that end, she reached down and began to unbutton her dress. Mal stepped back, his hands resting on her shoulders, his gaze fixed on her fingers.

When she reached the end of the buttons, she glanced up at him, hoping he’d take the next step. To her relief, he did, reaching out and brushing the damp fabric from her shoulder.

His lips found a spot at the base of her neck and Amy tipped her head to the side, enjoying the rush of heat that raced through her body. He caught her fingers in his, raising her hand above her head. Then he reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and slowly pulled it up and over her arms.

The air hit her damp skin, goose bumps prickling her until she shuddered with the chill. Mal was wet from rescuing her and he kicked off his sodden shoes, then shrugged out of the fleece jacket and T-shirt. Grabbing a faded quilt from the back of the sofa, he wrapped her up in it.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” Amy said in a soft voice. “Much.”

“Sit,” he said.

She did as he asked and Mal knelt down and took her foot in his hand, brushing the sand from between her toes and then gently rubbing until her foot was warm. He did the same for the other foot, and within a few minutes, Amy was no longer shivering.

Until Mal leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her instep.

Amy drew a quick breath and he raised his eyes to meet her gaze. She sighed softly. “That felt good. Do it again.” It was the closest she could come to an open invitation. Go ahead, ravish me, was what she really wanted to say. But then, that would be very bold, even given her newfound courage.

His lips found the arch of her foot. Though it was an odd way to begin a seduction, to Amy it seemed even more intimate than kissing her mouth. Slowly, his lips traced a path from her foot to the inside of her calf.

When the quilt got in the way, Mal braced his hands on either side of her and brushed a kiss onto the exposed skin of her shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Amy wondered about the ethics of what she was doing, about the wisdom of sleeping with a man she still wanted to interview. But he’d said himself she wouldn’t be able to convince him, and once he touched her, none of it mattered.

Mal’s lips found hers again and this time his kiss was a lovely mixture of desire and surrender, soft and sweet, yet filled with unrestrained need. He moved his mouth to her neck, pulling the quilt aside to kiss the spot below her ear.

He cupped her face in his hands and moved back to her mouth. Amy’s fingers clutched at his T-shirt, pulling him closer until he was nearly lying on top of her.

It felt wonderful to have the weight of a man’s body stretched out over hers. And though she ought to have considered this more carefully, at this point Amy’s desire far outweighed her common sense.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked. “Or do you want to take that shower?” He paused. “Or we could crawl under the covers on my bed and I could—”

“Okay,” Amy interrupted. “Bed sounds good.”

She didn’t hesitate and stood up beside the sofa, the quilt still wrapped around her body. Amy could barely catch her breath. It was as if she was tumbling down a mountainside and she couldn’t seem to gain a foothold. Things were moving so fast, and she felt as if she’d lost all touch with reality. But now that she’d gained momentum, she didn’t want to stop. She couldn’t.

There was no use denying the attraction. It had been there from the moment he’d first looked at her. In truth, it had been there from the very first time she’d seen his photograph. He was the kind of guy she could only dream about having—handsome, charming, fearless.

And now she’d been handed the chance to be with him, to experience something she might never find in her life again. Sure, she’d had lovers in the past, but they’d never lived up to her expectations. They’d never made her feel wild and uninhibited. Just once, she wanted to be with a man who could make her heart pound and her body ache.

Just a week ago, she’d been curled up on her sofa in her Brooklyn flat, eating a pint of cherry-chocolate-chip ice cream and watching a string of romantic comedies. That had been her life, waiting for Mr. Right. Well, it was time to stop waiting. She’d found Mr. Right Now here in a bach on the beach in New Zealand.

This wouldn’t be about love or even affection. It would about pure, unadulterated passion. This would be the adventure she’d never been brave enough to take, the mountain she’d been too fearful to climb. She wasn’t about to pass this opportunity by. If she couldn’t leave New Zealand with a story, then she’d leave with a damn good memory.

Mal stopped at the bedroom door and she glanced inside to see a large, comfortable bed covered with a deep down duvet. Mal grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head against the door frame, searching her gaze intently. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he murmured, pressing his hips against hers.

The quilt fell away, leaving Amy dressed only in her damp underwear. She could feel his desire beneath the faded fabric of his jeans. He was already completely aroused. Amy wanted to touch him there, to smooth her fingers over the hard ridge of his erection. She could be bold, too. “Yes,” she said, pushing back with her body.

He kissed her again, his lips and tongue demanding a response. She opened beneath the assault and did her best to match his intensity. And when he groaned, Amy knew that she was exactly what he wanted. Untangling her fingers from his, she let her hands drop to his shoulders and then his chest.

Gently, she pushed him away, then walked into the bedroom and stood at the end of the bed, facing away from him. With trembling fingers, she reached for the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. A moment later, her panties lay at her feet. She couldn’t make her need much more evident. She heard his breath catch as she turned to face him.

A tiny sliver of doubt coursed through her. She’d never been more vulnerable than she was now. But Amy didn’t care. For once in her life, she had the courage she’d always wanted. And, as long as he was there, it wasn’t going to leave her.

He approached her slowly and Amy’s knees began to give way. She wanted to sit down on the end of the bed, but she was afraid to move. As if Mal sensed her distress, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her against him.

His palms smoothed over her spine, drifting down to her waist and then cupping her backside. The sensation of his touch made every nerve in her body sing with anticipation until she felt as if the tingling would never stop. Gently, he moved her to the bed, then pulled them both down in a tangle of limbs.

As he kissed her again, he began to strip off his clothes. First his T-shirt, then his belt and jeans. She was so distracted by his single-minded assault on her mouth that when he stretched out on top of her, the touch of his skin against hers was a shock.

Amy held her breath, taking it all in. Was this really happening to her? She tried to keep a clear head, knowing that after it was over, she’d want to savor every detail again, but Mal was determined to drive her over the edge with passion.

His lips trailed across her shoulder, then moved lower. She waited for the touch of his tongue on her nipple, but he continued down, halting at the spot between her legs. A moan tore from her throat as his tongue began to tease at her sex.

Amy’s body tensed and she felt as if she was about to leap out of her own skin. Every flick, every gentle suck, sent wave after wave of delicious sensation coursing through her. She arched against him, unable to ask for more yet needing him to continue.

He knew exactly what he was doing and he showed no uncertainty. Mal wanted her complete surrender and Amy didn’t care what it cost. Her fingers slipped through his thick hair and she coaxed him on as he brought her closer to the edge. Her heart slammed in her chest and her body writhed against his mouth. And suddenly, she was there.

The world exploded in a riot of unbearable sensation, shudders of pleasure racking her body. He continued on until she was desperate to stop, the torment too sweet for her to bear. “Stop,” she whispered.

He slowly brought her body down from the peak, the spasms subsiding until she was left boneless and mindless, a victim of his seduction. Mal pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh and she stared down at him.

“That was lovely,” he said with a wicked smile.

Amy wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry. It had been lovely. Better than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. And she wanted to do it again. But she couldn’t help the doubts creeping into her head. Had she made a mistake? How was she supposed to live the rest of her life knowing that this was what passion was really about?

After it was all over, she’d have had her adventure. But then what? Was she meant to go home and forget it had ever happened?

No. If she wanted everything, the perfect experience, then it couldn’t end here. She could give him as good as she’d got.

Amy pulled him up next to her, stretching out beside him. Smoothing her hands over his belly, she brushed up against his shaft.

Mal smiled, his eyes still glazed with desire. Wrapping her fingers around him, Amy gently stroked. His response was immediate and he growled softly, nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck.

Her touch was soft and gentle. She wanted to tempt him, but not too far, as there was so much more she needed before he finished. Amy felt powerful, in control. She’d heard stories about climbers, men like Mal who flirted with danger and death. They approached sex in the same way, with a powerful passion that couldn’t be denied, as if every moment in bed with a woman might be their last.

She wanted to be the woman he remembered when he was sleeping in his tent on some distant mountainside. She wanted him to imagine her there with him as he pleasured himself on lonely nights.

She pressed her lips to the center of his chest, the soft dusting of hair tickling at the tip of her tongue. As he’d done to her, she moved lower. And when she closed her mouth over the tip of his shaft, Amy realized he was now at her mercy.

He reacted as any man would. But to Amy’s surprise, he wasn’t a silent participant. He softly urged her on, telling her when it felt good, whispering encouragement. She reveled in the sound of his voice, hearing how she made him feel.

And then suddenly he froze, his body stiffening beneath her touch. Amy knew he was close, fighting back the surge of pleasure that threatened. He held her tight, unwilling to let her continue, and she waited for him to regain control.

When he did, he pulled her up against his body, then reached over to grab a condom from the bedside table. He quickly sheathed himself and drew her on top of him, dragging her legs up on either side of his hips.

Amy shifted above him, the simple movement causing a groan to rumble in his throat. Slowly, he pushed inside her, burying himself deep in her warmth. Closing her eyes, she let the delicious sensation overwhelm her. For a long time, he didn’t move. She looked down at him and found her staring at her.

“What?” she whispered.

“Nothing. I’m just enjoying paradise for a bit longer.”

Paradise. That was exactly what this was. The place where life was perfection. Amy leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his lips, her long hair falling around his face. “Maybe I can find a way to extend your stay,” she said.

“Actually, I was just thinking of ways I could extend your stay,” Mal said. “Maybe you should get rid of your hotel room and move into the caboose.”

“Caboose?”

“It’s a little guesthouse out back. We usually rent it to visiting surfers, but it’s empty now. It’s close to the water and it’s simple, but nice. You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”