If anyone knew how every second counted, it was her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BRANT WATCHED THE lights of the helicopter fading in the distance and took a deep breath, thanking the heavens above for another successful, though grueling, rescue. He was chilled to the bone and riddled with adrenaline after nearly two hours of navigating torrential swells and being battered by wind and rain, visibility nearly zero as he and a half dozen other boats searched the stormy seas for the two lost fishermen. When Brant had caught sight of a life vest just as it was swallowed by the sea, he’d flashed back to hearing Cait scream at the marsh and seeing her disappear under the water. If he’d run by a minute later, she’d have drowned. If he’d looked away when the spotlight had hit the fisherman’s vest tonight, they’d have lost him. Every. Second. Mattered.
Brant didn’t believe in regrets and he wasn’t afraid of death, but as he’d gone into the angry sea to rescue the fisherman, tethered to the boat and thrashing in the violent waves, regret had hammered him. An honorable life didn’t mean shit if the woman he loved had never heard it from his lips.
Finally back at the marina, he cut the engine and glanced at Tessa, wrapped in a blanket, elbows on knees, head in her hands. She was tough, but they’d both thought they’d hauled a dead man out of the water, devastating them for him and his family. For most people, after the gust of relief and the frantic effort to keep the man breathing came the blow of exhaustion and, on its heels, confirmation of the fragility of life. That reality brought an emotional storm with tsunami-sized waves. Tess had already succumbed to both, but for Brant, exhaustion always came last.
“How you holdin’ up, Tess?”
She sat back, eyes at half-mast. “Is it weird that I want to climb into bed with Mom and Dad and be five years old again?”
“No. It’d probably be weird if you didn’t. Nights like tonight make you realize how precious life is. Everyone says to live like there’s no tomorrow, but you never hear love like every minute is the only one you’ll ever get.”
From now on, that was exactly what he planned to do.
After reporting to the search and rescue office and dropping off Tessa, Brant finally dragged his exhausted ass through his front door at nearly two o’clock in the morning.
“You’re home!” Cait jumped up from the couch, rushing over to him with Scrappy at her heels. She was a sight for sore eyes in a tank top and sleeping shorts. She threw her arms around him, holding him tight. “I was worried about you guys.”
He breathed her in, reveling in the warmth and comfort of the woman he knew by heart, putting all the scattered pieces of him back together. He had so much to say, but he needed to get cleaned up and clear his head first. “I’m soaked, baby.”
She held him tighter. “I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
She tipped her face up. He could lose himself forever in her beautiful, trusting eyes. “I always keep my promises.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Is Tessa okay? Did you find the fishermen? Are they okay?”
“Yeah. Tessa’s fine and the guys were airlifted out, but they should pull through.”
“Thank goodness.” She sighed with relief and took his hand. “Let’s get you into a hot shower.”
She led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He started to untie his sneakers, but she knelt before him and moved his hands.
“Let me help.” She took off his sneakers and socks, and as she peeled off his wet clothes, she kissed the parts of him she bared.
Every tender touch of her lips soothed the terror of the night and the chill in his bones, driving his need to tell her how he felt deeper. He stepped into the shower and leaned his forearm on the tile. He rested his head on his arm and let the warm water beat down his back. Cait joined him in the shower, and he lifted his head.
“You don’t have to move.” She kissed his shoulder. “This time I’ve got you.”
Her sweetness wrapped around him like an embrace. She put bodywash on her hands, touching him lovingly as she bathed him, so different from their normal sexy showers. She ran her soapy hands along his neck and shoulders, kneading as she went. He’d never been cared for like this. Not once. He was overwhelmed by the tenderness of her touch, the love she was showing him. The scent of his bodywash rose with the steam as her hands moved down his back, bathing and massaging his flanks, waist, and ass. Her hands slipped between his hamstrings, and his body flamed, desire pulsing through him as she bathed his legs all the way down to his ankles.
She stepped in front of him, looking at him with so much love, he reached for her.
“I’m not done.” She pressed her lips to his and continued bathing him with her love.
For a woman who couldn’t talk about her feelings, she sure knew how to show them, and the more she did, the more he needed to tell her. But he let her finish washing him. Not because he was selfish, but because there was no better feeling than being loved by the woman he adored.
She kissed his body as she moved lower, washing and kissing, driving him out of his mind with love and lust. Brant gritted his teeth, his cock throbbing as she washed his legs and then began kissing a slow, torturous path up his thighs. Her hand circled his hard length, and he moaned hungrily, looking down as she swirled her tongue along the swollen head.
“Christ, baby.” He buried his hands in her hair, fighting the need to take control.
She smiled up at him and lowered her mouth over his cock, working him exquisitely. He leaned back against the tile, hips thrusting as she sucked and stroked. When she licked the length of him, he didn’t think, could only feel, as he lifted her into his arms and lowered her onto his cock. Pleasure seared through him at her tight heat, and their mouths crashed together, their bodies thrusting and grinding. He clutched her ass, backing her up against the wall for leverage, and drove into her. He’d never felt so much pleasure.
“Oh God,” she panted out. “So good.”
He reclaimed her mouth, feasting on her as their bodies banged out a frantic pace. So good didn’t begin to describe the ecstasy of their connection, the feel of her tight heat sliding up and down his cock. Fuck. He came to a screeching halt and tore his mouth away, gritting out, “Condom.”
Her eyes flew open, sending his heart into his throat.
“Sorry, angel. I got so lost in you, I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t either,” she panted out as he turned off the water and carried her into the bedroom.
She stripped back the blanket and climbed onto the bed as he sheathed himself. When he came down over her, she pulled his mouth to hers, and their bodies came together. Their tongues tangled to the same rhythm as their hips thrusting. She made those sweet and sinful noises that lulled him deeper into her, drawing his emotions from the depths of his soul, and he breathed them into her. He pushed his hands beneath her bottom, lifting and angling, taking her deeper.
“Oh . . . Brant. Don’t stop.”
Her body went rigid, and her nails cut into his back. He sealed his mouth over her neck, sucking as he thrust deep, and she bowed off the bed, his name tearing from her lungs like a demand—“Brant!”