"But the tattoo..." Marli said. "That's what clued me in that it was him today. I should've noticed that."
"I didn't really pay much attention to him," Trey said thoughtfully. "But I'm guessing he was wearing long sleeves while he was working."
"And how did he get a job there anyway?" Marli demanded.
"Probably used a different name and fake ID. He's done it before."
She shook her head. "I never would have thought that." She sighed. "God, Trey, when it all clicked into place, I just about died."
"Ha. I just about died when I saw him holding you like that. Christ." He shook his head, eyes full of remorse. "I will never forgive myself for putting you in that position." He cursed. "I shouldn't have brought you into such a dangerous situation."
"Oh, Trey." She sighed and smiled. "You beat yourself up over everything. I didn't exactly give you much choice about bringing me. And I'm fine. Everything is fine now."
He didn't look convinced.
"You really were amazing," she told him again. At the time, she hadn't recognized what he was doing, but now, in retrospect, the way he'd stayed so calm, talked to Sheldon, got his guard down was so impressive. "How did you know what to say to him?"
"Hostage rescue training," he said. "Part of my education. I did some work as a crisis negotiator for a while, too. I like getting inside the heads of criminals."
"That's scary." She shuddered.
"Nah. It's fascinating. Anyway, I knew I had to get him thinking about escaping, otherwise, there was nothing to negotiate with. If he didn't care if he died, he had no reason not to kill you. Or any of us, for that matter. Thank God he hadn't seen his sons earlier, so he still had some reason to want to escape."
She shivered again. "We should really stop talking about that. Enough."
"It's important to debrief," Trey told her seriously. "It helps. You've been through a hell of a lot the last few days. Weeks."
She nodded slowly and sipped her wine. It was making her feel a little warm, a little relaxed, but she was still edgy and aware of Trey sitting across from her, all big and gorgeous and brave.
"You saved me. Again," she told him solemnly. "How can I ever repay you for that?"
"It's not something you have to repay," he said roughly. "Don't be crazy."
She shook her head. "I can't even get my head around it all." She paused. "Maybe I can't repay you, but I can show you how grateful I am." She met his eyes meaningfully. "Later."
His eyes glittered with desire and his white teeth flashed in a smile. "Okay."
Trey feasted on herb-crusted prime rib, and Marli picked at lobster ravioli. They skipped dessert and went back up to the room. They meandered out onto the spacious balcony and stood at the rail in the cool night air, enjoying the view of the deserted pool glowing turquoise in the dark.
Trey turned to her, eyes dark and mysterious. "Marli..."
She faced him, studying him. "Yes?" Her heart beat with anticipation at what he was going to say. Surely, now he realized he cared for her.
"I'm sorry." He stopped.
Everything in her wilted with disappointment. Even so, when he put his hands on her shoulders, she felt that pull, felt her soul inexorably drawn to him. Her body yearned for him despite her disappointment.
"Don't," she whispered and went up on her toes to brush her mouth across his. "Don't say anything, Trey. Just, please, make love to me. Because we're here and we're alive. You don't have to make any promises."
He drew back and searched her eyes. He could probably see all the love she felt for him, and she lowered her lashes, before she kissed him again. Heat exploded between them, and he gathered her into his arms in a crushing embrace, kissing her with fevered intensity. She surrendered to him totally, in a sweet, hot rush of passion, wrapping herself around him.
They stumbled through the doors back into the room and stood beside the bed.
"Undress me," she invited him huskily, standing before him.
He slipped the single button of the cardigan open and pushed it off her shoulders, then lifted the camisole over her head. Her bra was also black and he flicked the front opening and pushed it off, too.
Then he went to work on the button and zipper of the denim skirt and worked it down over her hips, leaving her standing there in black lace panties that were a band of lace around her hips.
"I want to leave these on," he murmured, kissing her softly, his fingertips tracing over the lace and around to the back where it half-covered her butt cheeks.
She shivered.
"My turn," he said, dropping his arms.
She smiled and unbuttoned the two buttons of his polo-style shirt. She ran her hands over the thick, soft cotton and the hard, sculpted muscles beneath. She tugged the shirt out of his jeans and slipped her hands under it onto fever-hot skin. She pushed the shirt up, hands on his chest, and bent down to press a kiss right in the middle of his chest. Then she pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.
His jeans came off next, falling to the floor, heavy with his wallet and change. She had no inclination to leave his underwear on, wanting to see his arousal, wanting to feel it...taste it.
She dropped to her knees on the soft carpet and slid her fingers under the elastic of his snug boxer briefs, tugged them down over his long legs and off. He stepped out of them and planted his feet apart, standing before her, his erection blatant and impressive.
She studied him, admired him. "Beautiful," she murmured, taking him in her hands and caressing him.
He groaned.
She curled her hand around him. He was amazingly soft and hard. The tender tip of his penis was velvety, but underneath he was like steel. She traced the throbbing veins and, as she clasped him, she could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong.
She pressed her face to the crease where his thigh met groin and inhaled the scent of him, warm and musky and so intimately him. Her tongue gave a little lick there, kissed him, and his thighs quivered.
He parted his legs a little wider, and she slid one hand through and behind to capture his balls, fondling them, squeezing gently, bringing more moans and muttered curses from him.
"Yes," he said with a groan, his whole body tight.
Then she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue over the head, wetting him, tasting him, trying to swallow him.
"Oh Christ!"
She made love to him with her mouth, sucking and squeezing him, cupping his heavy sac, loving how it tightened in her hand. She wanted to make him come, wanted him to spill himself into her mouth. His hands came to her head, gentle at first, guiding her forward, then with increasing urgency, pushing harder, faster.
"Yes, like that." He groaned. "Harder... Oh, Marli!" He cried out her name as he came, pulsing in her mouth, the hot, sharp taste of his semen a triumphant, extravagant delight for her mouth.
She sucked and licked him dry, slowly released him and sat back, then licked her lips. She gazed up at him.
His face looked stunned, flushed, full of gratitude and awe. He fell to his knees on the carpet in front of her and gathered her against him, buried his face in her hair. She kissed his shoulder and hugged him back.
"Good God," he murmured, "I think my legs just gave out."
Then they were lying on the floor tangled around each other, hands greedily groping and touching, mouths meeting in long, clinging kisses, trying to consume, devour, inhale each other.
"God, Trey," she gasped, climbing on top of him.
He clasped her hands, and she lowered herself onto his hot, hard shaft, riding him. Their fingers curled and tightened around each other's, and she surged and rose on him, pulling at him with every inner muscle she had.