“Hurry up and get dressed,” he said, tucking her underwear into his pocket.

Allie’s heart turned cold while her sister’s words rang inside her head, Did he hit it and quit it? Is that what was happening here? She hated to believe Marc would do that to her, but it was starting to look that way.

Propping on one elbow, Allie peeled a few playing cards off her back while watching him tug on his T-shirt. When he came across the spilled cola, he scooped the ice cubes into the glass and replaced it on the table.

“What?” he asked, catching her staring at him.

Allie struggled to force the words though her throat, which was growing thick with welling tears. If he was about to ditch her, she’d have to get off at the next port and ask Devyn to pick her up. She couldn’t stay aboard the Belle and pretend none of this had happened.

On frail limbs, she pushed to her feet. Marc peeled the jack of clubs off her butt, then pocketed that along with her panties—souvenirs of his conquest.

“Here, put this on.” While handing over her skirt, he paused to study her expression and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“You tell me,” Allie said, bending down to snatch her bra off a nearby chair. She shoved her arms through the straps and latched the trio of hooks at the back. “We just made love, and now you’re gearing up for the fifty-yard dash.”

Marc’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Allie stepped into her skirt, and by the time she secured the button, understanding dawned on his face. “Oh,” he said, lips twitching in a grin. “Is that what you think—that I’m fixin’ to make a clean getaway?”

She provided her answer in the form of a glare.

“Come here.” When she stayed rooted to the floor, Marc sauntered over to her and snaked both arms around her waist. He nuzzled her ear through thick curls and murmured, “You didn’t actually think we were finished, did you?”

Allie’s resolve was weak. All it took was the heat of his breath to unravel her.

She tipped aside her head to welcome the brush of his lips on her neck. He kissed his way down to her bare shoulder and spoke against her bra strap. “The cleaning crew will be here soon. Get dressed so I can take you back to your room and strip you naked again. I’m going to do filthy things to you, Allie. And I won’t stop till the sun comes up.”

Allie’s breath hitched. Hopeful once again, she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Are you sure? Don’t you need a couple hours to . . . recuperate?”

He gave her that signature smile—the one that deepened the cleft in his chin and sent her heart pinging against her rib cage. There was a promise in his gaze, of more than just a few moments of sin.

“Sugar,” he said, “we’re just getting started.”

Chapter 11

The next morning, Marc awoke to the soft snuffle of feminine snoring, an unexpectedly adorable sound that parted his lips in a sleepy smile. Allie’s pretty little head rested on his chest, a beam of low sunlight from the window dancing over her raven curls, picking up bluish hues he’d never noticed before. There was a lot about this woman he hadn’t noticed before last night, but now he knew every inch of her curves by heart. He’d taken great care to explore her—inside and out—and he’d loved every minute of it.

Lord, she’d blown his mind—catapulted him to a whole new level of heart-quaking, lung-bursting volcanic climax. Marc had been with a lot of women over the years, but Allie made him forget every last one. No joke. He couldn’t recall a single name but hers. Sex with Allie was so damn good, it didn’t seem natural.

Maybe because it’s not, warned a distant voice that sounded an awful lot like his superstitious pawpaw. If you lie down with the devil, you’re gonna get burned, son.

Marc pushed those bullshit thoughts right out of his head.

The girl in his arms was more angel than devil, the perfect mixture of tenderhearted sweetness and sultry siren. But that assurance didn’t stop him from peeking beneath Allie’s bedsheet to make sure his manhood was still intact after a night of debauchery with a Mauvais woman. Thankfully, it was—and very happy to see Allie stirring beside him.

“Stand down, soldier,” Marc whispered. “Let’s give her a break.”

Besides, if the sun was up, that meant he was overdue in the pilothouse and Allie was late for her breakfast shift. But damned if the general would listen to reason. His helmet stood at full attention, refusing to surrender until he’d divided and conquered the lean tanned thighs curled around Marc’s hip.

With a sigh, he checked the clock on her nightstand. They were already late. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Burying his nose in Allie’s scented curls, Marc murmured a husky “Good morning,” while letting his hands travel down her back to her naked ass, where he grabbed two firm, delectable handfuls of flesh. He loved the way she filled his palms. She had the kind of butt that made him want to thank her mama—her daddy, too, rest their souls.

Allie stretched her spine and made a noise of contentment, blinking awake and squinting against the early-morning light. She rested her chin on his chest and flashed a smile that warmed his heart.

“Mornin’.” She started to say something more but gasped and tore her gaze to the alarm clock. “Oh, no!” Muscles tensing, she moved to launch out of bed.

“Hold up there, sugar.” Marc threaded his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, spoon-style. “Where’s the fire?”

“But my breakfast pastries,” she objected. “I should have started them hours ago.”

“I’m sure your staff is on top of it.”

He could feel her answering smile in the way she melted into his embrace. “You’re just saying that because you want to be on top of me.”

“Not true.” He reached around and cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple until it pebbled beneath his touch. When she released a soft moan, he nibbled her shoulder and thrust against her glorious backside. “I think I’ll take you from behind this time.”

“You’re so bad,” she whispered, pulling aside her hair to give him better access to her neck. He sucked the sensitive skin there and reached between her legs, pleased to find her more than ready for him. “So very bad,” she breathed, opening for his fingers.

“Mmm, and you like that, don’t you?”

He didn’t need a reply; her body answered for her.

Marc closed his eyes and focused on spreading the slippery heat over her folds. Occasionally, he dipped a finger inside to find more lubrication. And there was always more. He loved this evidence of how badly she wanted him—the feel of her, absurdly slick, made him so hard it hurt. To ease the ache, he pushed his erection between the dampened passage of her upper thighs, stroking the outside of her hidden entrance. His breath hitched at the wet friction, his body begging him to ease in where she was blazing hot and tight as a fist. But as much as he wanted to indulge in bare contact, Marc had never left himself unprotected, and he didn’t intend to start now.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, shifting onto his back to grab a condom from the nightstand. After rolling it down the length of his shaft, he settled behind Allie and slipped into her with liquid ease.

They shared a long groan. “God,” she swore, gyrating in time with each lazy pump of his hips. “You feel so good I almost can’t stand it.”

Chest rumbling with male pride, he wrapped both arms around her, holding tight as he drove into her again and again. Allie covered his hands with one of hers and whispered in broken Creole while reaching down to touch herself where they joined.

Marc watched over her shoulder and went half delirious at the sight of her circling fingers. He wanted to make it last, but when her inner muscles contracted in orgasm, she milked a climax out of him that he felt clear to the pit of his soul. Gritting his teeth, he thrust upward one last time and spilled inside her.

They lay there, sweaty and satisfied, their flesh glued together in a way that made it all the more difficult to part from her.

“Damn,” he said, still panting for air. “Every time we do this I think it can’t possibly get any better, but it does. What’s your secret?”

Allie drew his palm to her mouth and placed a kiss there. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

He laughed. “If we keep up this pace, you’ll be the death of me anyway.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she suggested, “We can slow down anytime you want, baby.”

Right, like that was going to happen. She made him hornier than a parolee on release day. He’d made love to her six times in the last nine hours, and it still wasn’t enough. Even now, a tingling of blood flow to his jock warned he’d grow hard again if he didn’t pull out—which he needed to do so they could bathe and get dressed.

Probably a bad idea to suggest they shower together. Soaping up Allie’s wet, naked body would surely lead to more naughty shenanigans.

Yeah, definitely a bad idea . . .

“C’mon.” Grinning, he gestured toward her bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up. I know a fun way to conserve water.”

* * *

When Marc finally reached the pilothouse, he threw open the door and nearly collided with Pawpaw, who speared him with an icy glare. The scrunching of the old guy’s brows said he had a bone to pick with Marc, but he stewed silently in the corner while the second-in-command delivered a brief report. Afterward, Marc thanked his backup pilot and dismissed him for a day’s rest.