Lifting the shirt from her body and dropping it on the sand, she headed for the water, trying to leave her jumbled thoughts behind her.
The moment Max realized that Mia wasn’t in the house…he panicked. He’d gone upstairs to find her, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Mia,” he bellowed, checking every room downstairs as he called her name. “She’s here somewhere. She has to be here,” he chanted in a whisper to himself as every room came up empty.
Entering the dining room, he saw the porch light on and the door ajar. “No. Fuck no,” he said in a husky, desperate voice. Kicking the door open, his eyes scanned the beach from the porch, and what he saw sent his heart into palpitations. Perspiration formed on his face as he leaped down the stairs, sprinting across the sand. “No, goddammit. No.”
He saw her head go under the water, and he dove into the waves, not caring that he was fully clothed. The denim of his jeans slowed him down, but his horror and fear had him swimming toward her like a madman. Her head popped up beside him, and he snaked his arm around her waist.
He heard her scream, not recognizing him until she’d swiped the water from her eyes. “Max. Shit. You scared the hell out of me.” She tried to break his grip, but he didn’t let go, treading water as he kept her firmly in his grasp.
“Get out of the water,” he growled at her, his whole body shuddering as he pushed her toward shore. “Now!”
He pushed her in front of him, shoving her back toward shore. She sputtered as she started swimming. “I’m close to shore. The water is barely over my head,” she shouted as she swam steadily toward the sandy beach.
“Move.” The command was sharp, and Max didn’t give a shit. He wanted her out of the water, back on shore, somewhere safe. Damn it. Didn’t she realize she couldn’t swim at night or alone? Not ever. He’d just gotten her back and he wasn’t losing her again. He despised this beach, and he hadn’t set foot on it again after he’d spent the night here over two years ago, shedding tears for the first time and only time, and waking up to the knowledge that his wife could very well be gone from his life forever. He hated this damn place. He hated the sand, the water, the memories of thinking this was the last place that Mia had been before she’d died.
The moment she stood, Max swept her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket on the beach. He laid her down and came down on top of her, breathless, more from his dread and horror of seeing her in the water than from exertion. He wanted—no, he needed—her compliance. He didn’t care if he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. Having her under him, at his mercy, was exactly what he needed, and he reveled in it. Adrenaline was still pounding through his body as he trapped her hands over her head, urging him to take what was his, what belonged to him.
“Mine.” His voice was feral and animalistic, his c**k pressing against the saturated denim of his jeans.
The light was dim, but he could still see her face, and she didn’t look the least bit frightened. She looked at him with longing, aroused, and it nudged him even closer to insanity just knowing she wanted him this way. She didn’t struggle…she relaxed, yielding to him so sweetly that it was his undoing, making every possessive and dominant instinct he’d been holding back since the moment he’d met her explode from his body like they had been spring loaded, as if the button to release had finally been pushed, and there was no way those emotions would ever go back inside him again.
Max Hamilton had finally lost his famous Hamilton restraint, and it felt f**king fantastic.
“Max?” Mia whispered, watching the turbulent emotions that raced over the face of the man above her, and God help her, he was smoking hot. Her core had flooded with heat as he’d claimed her with one word, his feral expression warning her that he was ready to make good on everything he’d said earlier.
“You’ll never set foot on this beach again. Never. I f**king hate this place,” he said vehemently, water still dripping from his face and hair, his expression fierce, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs so quickly that he looked like he was gasping for air.
Mia didn’t doubt what had set off his reaction. This was the beach of her supposed demise. He was freaking out about her. But she loved this beach and she wasn’t going to make promises she couldn’t keep. “I’ll make sure someone else is here. I promise. You know I love it here,” she pleaded.
“I hate it,” he retorted sharply.
Fine. Then she’d make it a better memory, starting now. “Let me go. Let me touch you,” she whispered softly.
“No. I’m going to f**k you here. Right here. Right now.”He leaned forward and told her in a husky voice near her ear, “I’m going to taste you first until you beg for my cock, and then I’ll f**k you until you beg for mercy, sweetheart.”
Holy shit. She was ready to beg right now. Her cool, controlled Max was ready to get down and dirty. And talk that way, too. It made her question everything she knew about Max, how well she had really known her own husband. He was disciplined and composed, even in his lovemaking. But he didn’t look the least bit restrained now. He looked ravenous, savage, all of his ferocity completely concentrated on her. “Condom,” she reminded him. “We need to get some.”
Reaching into the pocket of his soggy jeans, he yanked out a handful of condoms, saved from the water by plastic wrap and dropped them on the sand. “It was my first goddamn priority,” he rasped.
Her pu**y still quivered from his naughty taunts, and she was unable to stop herself from answering, “Good. Then f**k me. And make me come,” she dared him, somehow knowing exactly what to say to push his buttons.
That wasn’t something she’d normally say, but it felt good to say it now. She had never cursed or talked dirty during their marriage because Max hadn’t, but she didn’t seem to have that problem anymore.
Two women in the same body…again.
“Sweetheart, there’s no question about whether or not you’ll come. You will…and you’ll be screaming my name while you’re doing it,” he promised dangerously.
Mia stared up at his ferocious expression, knowing that she should probably try to rein him in. He was reacting to fear and anxiety, her disappearance making him act out of character. But God…she wanted him this way. He was raw, masculine, and dangerous: a different side of Max that she had never known existed beneath his smooth exterior. And he was completely irresistible. She wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Max would never harm her. In fact, she was so aroused that her whole body was burning white-hot, so ready for him that she needed him inside her this very moment. “I’m not a screamer,” she reminded him casually, although her emotions were rampant.