Vivian Arend - High Risk

All through her orgasm he supported her. Watched her. Held on to his control by sheer willpower until she was done.

Then he went wild.

He pulsed forward. Again. Again. Balls tight, pressure building until he buried his cock as deep as he could and his climax tore from him. Pulse after pulse filled her throat and he drew back, his cock still jerking, seed escaping to splay over her lips.

His balls were empty, his cock spent, and Marcus leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower stall and tried to calm his breathing. Holy fucking shit—he hadn’t had that violent an orgasm since . . .

Yeah. Pretty much since the last time he’d imagined Becki was sucking him off. Or under him as he fucked her hard. Or otherwise being submissive to his sexual commands.

He twisted, leaning his shoulders on the wall as he stared into the steam. He was old enough to keep work and pleasure separate if necessary, but damn if he wanted to this time. If Becki agreed to help train the team, great. But one way or another he wasn’t going to stop pursuing her.

He wanted her. He was pretty sure she wanted him, too. And if there was one thing he hadn’t lost, it was the ability to pursue a goal. Becki James had briefly, yet powerfully, impacted his past.

Rebecca James? She was going to be a very pleasurable part of his future, and he’d make damn sure it was more than pleasurable for her as well.

She was awake far too early. By eight A.M. Becki had already stretched, showered, and tossed together a few notes regarding training ideas for Lifeline.

Considering she’d already been preparing a course syllabus for the upcoming semester for David, the idea of working with an elite squad for the short term was a great opportunity. They’d be able to take her lessons and provide feedback during recap.

Her fingers cramped on the pencil, and she shook them. Crazy to think she had lost that much strength. Since the accident she’d been running and swimming, but she hadn’t climbed.

Something held her back. The psychologist who’d worked with her had told her to listen to herself. Not to push it. That her body and mind would know when it was time.

Her thoughts returned to the climbing wall in the gym, and her anticipation rose. Yeah, it was time.

As long as she had a job when this was all over.

She picked up the phone. His line was ringing before she realized it might be too early to call Marcus. Hanging up or waiting it out—which was better?

He answered on the second ring and stole her choices. “Good morning, Becki.”

“Umm, morning.” Right away flustered and on edge. Not to mention instantly battling the shiver that had raced along her spine at the sound of his voice. “Neat trick. How did you know it was me?”

“Call display says Banff Search and Rescue Dorms. You’re the only one there right now.”

“Gotcha. Hey, sorry for calling so early.”

He chuckled, and the skin on her forearms stood on edge. “Trust me, you didn’t wake me. What’s on your mind?”

“Could we meet for breakfast? I’d like to talk to you a little more.” I need to confess something before I get my hopes up.

“What about lunch?” he asked.

Shoot. “I promised to meet Alisha at the gym at ten o’clock. We were going to climb, then have lunch together. I don’t know how to get hold of her to change that.”

“No worries. Breakfast it is. I’ll come get you.”

She stared at the phone after he hung up like it was haunted, the echo of his click carrying through the dorm room and fading into an eerie silence. It was crazy how listening to him brought back such an intense rush of emotion. Of physical longing.

This had to stop if she was going to work with the man. So she’d just haul out the lessons and force them to work for her this time, in this situation.

Lesson number two—move decisively. In this case, she was going to make it all about work. That was how she’d talk, how she’d act. And most definitely how she’d think. No more wondering how Marcus looked stripped to nothing.

She could control herself. She’d had years of training.

Walking to the parking lot to meet him, though, gave her enough time to regret having to put her thoughts on hold, because damn, the dreams she’d had the previous night had been lovely.

A bright red truck was already waiting at the curb. She peered in the passenger-side window cautiously. Marcus waved at her and she hopped in, the smooth leather of the seats warm under her fingers.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I was in the area.” He smiled, and the dark stubble along his jaw did its best to break her mental resolve to stop objectifying him. His hair was wilder than last night, and she busied herself clicking the seat belt closed before she did something stupid like reaching out to straighten the unruly strands.

Decisive, remember? She firmly kicked her imagination in the butt. “Just a coffee shop is fine with me. If I’m climbing in a little over an hour I don’t need anything big.”

“Bagels okay?”

He signalled a turn at her affirmation, taking them down the hill and back toward the city centre. Becki watched as he drove, his right hand firmly holding the wheel, his shorter limb on the left resting briefly against an extended shaft attached to the turn signal. Marcus wore a long-sleeved jacket, and if she hadn’t known his left hand was missing, she never would have suspected.

“Driving is simple,” Marcus said.

She blinked, trying to figure out where his comment came from. “Pardon me?”

“You’re checking to see how I drive with one hand. Driving is easy—try it sometime. I bet you use mainly one hand on the wheel. If you drive an automatic, most people take all kinds of liberties after they get comfortable. Maybe if my limb were completely gone it would be different, but with as much forearm as I still have, there’s not much change in my technique.”

He pulled in front of a shop and parked, shut off the vehicle, and turned toward her.

Oh God. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, I think we established what you’re doing isn’t rude. You’re curious. I get that.”

Becki dragged her fingers through her hair, pulling strands off her face. “But I’m not a five-year-old who doesn’t know curiosity can still become inappropriate.”

He raised a brow at her, the smooth arc combining with his wry grin and turning his face into mesmerizing art. “Frankly I’d far prefer to have you asking questions than staring at me on the sly. Gets so damn old so fast.”

She nodded, following his lead when he exited the truck. He pulled open the shop door, and a rush of heated air hit her, the aroma of fresh baked goods washing them both with sweetness.

“You are evil, Marcus Landers.”

He pointed to a table in the corner that was free. “Evil?”

Becki slipped onto the padded cushion of the booth and took another deep breath. “I swear I’m going to put on weight just living in Banff. I might be back at school, but I don’t need a freshman fifteen, thank you. Cinnamon buns?” She moaned in mock ecstasy.

He laughed. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll put in our order.”

“I suppose if I said all I wanted was a coffee and a plain bagel, you’d know I was lying.”

Marcus shrugged. “Lying, but understandable. Maybe we can split a cinnamon bun between the two of us later if we’re good.”

He strode to the counter and spoke with the attendant. Becki stared at his profile, his dark hair long enough it was curling at the back of his neck. The edges of his lips lifted in a smile as he finished, and the girl across from him turned pink-cheeked as she rushed to fill his order. Becki removed her coat and hid her own grin. Marcus definitely knew how to charm them.

She glanced up from slinging her coat over the back of the booth to find him settled in the opposite booth. He’d opened his jacket and leaned back comfortably, his sharp gaze taking her in. He kept his left arm tucked against his side, casual, yet somewhat hiding his missing limb.

She was pretty sure that was for other people’s sake more than his own.

Marcus, through and through. The qualities that had attracted her to him in the first place had been long, even if lust appeal had been the strongest. Putting aside the weekend they’d spent together, she concentrated on the other things she remembered about him. His confidence, his wisdom.

She leaned forward and pulled in her courage. If she had to spill the beans, this was the man she wanted to share them with.

“I’ve been considering your offer.”

His chin dropped slightly as he waited.

“Last night was wonderful. You’ve got an amazing team, and I would be honoured to spend time with them. Working with you.”

Marcus’s gaze lowered to her fingers. She consciously unclenched them from where she’d grabbed hold of the table edge.

“Why do I hear an unspoken ‘but . . .’ in your words?” he asked.

Becki took a deep breath. “Because before you hire me you need to know that the accident last year? When Dane died?” She swallowed hard and forced herself forward. “I remember going climbing. I remember camping that night, and the next memory I have is of walking the final stages of the trail with the governor’s daughter and her friend in tow. Nothing else.”

All his casual relaxation vanished. Marcus leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as his concerned gaze took her in. “Nothing?”

She sighed. “I figure there’s about a twelve-hour gap, maybe fourteen. We bivouacked on a spur when the weather turned on us. I remember setting up camp and crawling into my sleeping bag. I don’t remember packing in the morning, even though we had to—I was still carrying most of my gear when I met the rescue crews at the base of the mountain.”