Trouble With Mitch Page 8

  A moan rose from deep in his chest and Mitch grasped her hips in his hands, lowering her over him until his breath warmed the juices coating her nether lips.

  Her belly tightened, tension pulling at the muscles of her channel. She spread her knees wider, dropping lower. Then she took his cock fully into her mouth, closing over him, sliding down his length until the tip of his dick bumped into the back of her throat.

  By all that was beautiful, he was long, thick and hard as steel. Rising up to the tip again, she gulped in a deep breath only to let it out in a rush when Mitch tongued her clit in short, teasing flickers that set her pussy on fire.

  His fingers slid around her hips to cup the rounded globes of her ass, massaging them. One hand found the crease, a finger drawing a line of juices from her pussy to the tight anal ring, pressing gently.

  Amira’s belly tightened and she rammed his cock deep into her mouth again.

  His finger penetrated her anus, his tongue stroking her clit and his thumb fucking her pussy at the same time.

  Letting loose of his cock, Amira straightened, her body rigid. She couldn’t take it, the pleasure was too acute, yet her body ached for more. “I want you, Mitch. Inside me now.”

  Mitch eased her forward until he could sit up. Then he pulled her bottom toward him, sitting her down in his lap, easing her pussy down over his straining cock.

  Amira took over from there, rising up on her haunches then lowering again. She loved the control she had to move up and down. Loved that she could turn him on so much that his dick was swollen and so thick it filled her completely.

  His hands moved up her front to cup her breasts, fondling the tips until she cried out, “Fuck me, Mitch. Fuck me hard and fast. Like you did the first time.”

  Before she could think, he’d flipped her on her back and slid between her legs, pressing his cock home. Then like a jackhammer, pounding away at her defenses, he slammed in and out of her with such force her bed frame shook beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall.

  As she rose to the peak and plummeted over, he stiffened and slammed into her one last time, holding steady as deep as he could go. His cock jerked, his seed spilling inside her. But she didn’t care. She had all of him, if only for this one moment, a long moment she would cherish in her lonely dreams.

  Mitch rolled to her side, pulling her with him, keeping their connection in the move.

  She was glad he didn’t break their bond forged of passion just yet. She wanted this moment to last throughout the night.

  He brushed a strand of her thick black hair behind her ear and kissed the tip of her nose. “Even if we never see each other after this is all over, that was,” he kissed her lips, running his tongue across the crease, “incredible.”

  Amira’s heart squeezed hard against her chest. The dummy had to go and open his big mouth and spoil the moment by reminding her that this was all just a romantic interlude destined for memories, not repeat performances or love-everlasting.

  A sob rose up in her throat and she determinedly swallowed it back down. Despite her attempt to keep it light, to set her expectations low, she’d let her heart skid into the danger zone. She’d fallen all over again for the elusive Mitch West.

  Fool!

  A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and plopped against the pillowcase.

  “What’s this?” Mitch brushed his finger along her cheekbone. “Why the tear?”

  She forced herself to laugh, though her heart was shriveling inside. “No reason. I just guess you’re so good at this, it must be a tear of joy.”

  His brows drew together, but he didn’t dispute her words. Instead he drew her closer against him, until her cheek rested in the crook of his shoulder. “Rest, sweetheart. Tomorrow might get rough.”

  Her hand splayed across his chest, threading through the coarse hair. At least she could touch him and lay with him until then. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave her. Oh yeah, he wanted her to wish him to the sarcophagus tomorrow. Not that she had a whole lot of confidence in that really happening. The entire day had been a surreal experience. Something out of a fiction novel.

  Amira yawned. Warm and secure with Mitch still buried inside her, she almost felt like tomorrow held promise. Her eyelids drifting closed, she pressed her lips to his chin and whispered so softly he couldn’t possibly hear, “I love you, Mitch West.” Just as she was about to reach blessed oblivion, her eyes popped open. Damn! They hadn’t used a condom!

  Chapter Seven

  Will and Kate materialized close to Sand City as the sun rose on the desert, spreading fiery red fingers of light across the sand dunes.

  “I love this place.” Kate stood beside Will, her arm around his waist, and waved at the empty desert before them. “I love that you can’t find Sand City by just the naked eye.”

  “Me too. Although it can be disconcerting at times knowing they can see us, but we can’t see them.”

  Kate grinned. “Yeah, I wonder if my father is watching us right now.” She squinted, trying to see the invisible city. “When this is all over, do you think we can come back here to live? I’m sure my father could make room for us in his section of the palace.”

  Will tipped her chin up and stared down into her blue eyes. “Your wish is my command.”

  Her beautiful smooth forehead wrinkled. “I’m not sure I like that.”

  His mouth hovering over her lips, Will paused. “Like what?” He pressed his lips to hers, pushing his tongue between her teeth to play with hers.

  When they came up for air, she pushed him to arm’s length. “When we return the loot to the tomb and the wishes go away, will you lose interest in me?”

  His arms tightened around her. “Not a chance. The magic’s not in the bottle, or the stone or the tomb.” With his thumbs, he caressed her cheekbones. “It’s in you, you pushy broad.”

  Her frown eased and she smiled up at him. “You’re the only man I’ll let get away with words like that. I must be getting soft.”

  Will’s hands skimmed up her waist to the swell of her breasts. “Oh yes, I’d say you’re getting soft. In all the right places.”

  “Ummm. Better stop. I’m almost certain my father is watching now.”

  “Such a shame.” Will discreetly thumbed her nipples beneath the cotton blouse she wore and they puckered accordingly.

  “Give me the Eye of the Serpent before we disgrace ourselves in front of the entire palace.” Instead of the hard edge she liked to place on her words, they came out breathy and winded, as though she struggled to say them. Twin flags of color rose in her cheeks and not because of the intense desert heat radiating off the sand dunes.

  Will chuckled. “Okay. But I want to pick up where we left off as soon as we resolve this little matter of wishes.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to Sand City, the Eye of the Serpent. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  She shook her head, her hands crawling up his chest. “No, I’ll let you do it.”

  As Will held the Eye toward the sun, tilting it up and down to capture the sun’s rays, Kate’s fingers slipped inside his shirt, threading through the hair on his chest.

  “Stop, woman. Your father will have me drawn and quartered, or disemboweled. Or worse, he’ll have me marrying you before nightfall.”

  She unbuttoned his top button and pressed a kiss to his naked throat. “Would marriage be such a bad thing?” Her gaze challenged him.

  Will’s arm dropped around her, and he gathered her into his arms. “Spending the rest of my life in a time almost ninety years from my own with a woman who could best me in practically any game, I’m not so sure.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and then claimed her lips in a soul-sacrificing kiss.

  When he came back to his senses long enough to breathe, he stared down at Kate. “Okay, I think I could possibly manage.”

  Kate’s brows pushed together and she swatted his chest. “Manage? What’s to manage?”

  “That’s a l
oaded question from a pushy broad.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not THE question.” She slapped his chest a little harder.

  Will’s lips twitched, but he forced a smile back, making his face poker straight. “And what question is that?”

  Kate shoved away from him and stamped her foot, the movement losing its effect in the shifting sands. “You know perfectly well what question. What have we been talking about? Do I have to—”

  Will captured her in his arms and crushed his lips to hers, stemming her flow of words. This time when he came up for air, he brushed a strand of her hair from her eyes. “Let’s take care of business, then you can ask me to marry you.”

  “Me ask you—” she sputtered. “Why, you arrogant bastard.”

  He ignored her, raising the Eye of the Serpent to the sun. He titled it left, right, up and down until the rays captured the lights of the prism and shot out across the sand, the colorful lights illuminating the silhouette of a hidden city.

  A man, dressed in the white robes of an Arab, stood at the gate. His blue twinkling eyes so much like Kate’s, Will knew exactly who he was even before he opened his mouth. “I know I taught my daughter to use better language than that,” the older man chastised. He held open his arms. “Kate, you’re too much like me for your own good.”

  Kate fell into her father’s arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you living here.”

  “The only way to get used to it here is to live here with me.” He hugged his daughter to him.

  “I’m working on that.” Kate’s glance caught Will’s and she tossed her hair. “That particular project needs a little more tweaking.”

  Will held out his hand. “Mr. Ralston. It’s good to see you before I’m tweaked into compliance.”

  “Call me Tony, or Dad.” He winked. “Mr. Ralston makes me sound old.”

  “And you’re anything but old.” Kate snorted. “We know.”

  Anthony Ralston clasped Will’s hand and slapped him on the back. “What brings you two here so soon after you left?”

  Will grasped Kate’s hand and entered the gate, pocketing the Eye of the Serpent for their next visit. “We need to collect the bottles and the stone.”

  Ralston followed, hurrying to keep up with Will and Kate. “I take it you found the missing bottle?”

  “We have.” Will turned a corner and headed toward Ralston’s rooms. He came to a halt in front of an immense wooden door with an even more massive guard standing in front of it. “Are the items still in the secret cache?”

  “They are. Safe and sound.” Mr. Ralston stepped in front of the guard at his door and muttered words in Farsi. The man moved aside, holding the door open for the three to pass through. Ralston led the way. “Did you find the missing man?”

  “Yes,” Kate answered. “We found Mitch.”

  “That’s good.” Her father motioned for them to enter first. “Once you have all the bottles and the stone together, what then?”

  “We have to get them back to the sarcophagus to break the curse.” As they entered the room with the secret cache, Kate darted toward the far side. An elaborate mural graced the wall, interlaced with stone etchings, raised bricks and beautifully painted hieroglyphics. For a moment, she stood as though uncertain. Her black hair cascaded down her back, her blue eyes staring at the myriad images.

  Will’s heart squeezed in his chest. The events of the past few weeks had only made his love for this woman stronger, and despite the danger of the wishes and the constant reminder that someone else wanted the power badly enough to kill for it, Will couldn’t regret having come this far with Kate Ralston. And if he had anything to do with it, he’d go even farther to keep her at his side. Even give up his perpetual bachelorhood.

  “Do you want me to do it?” her father asked.

  “No. I remember.” She reached out and touched a drawing of a serpent. Then she pressed against a raised brick. Her hands glided over several raised golden knobs and a picture of a terrible beast, pausing on an embossed drawing of a beautiful woman. She wrapped her fingers around the raised etching and pulled gently. Stone ground against stone as the wall slid back and then turned, exposing a passageway into a large lit room.

  Will shook his head. “These people never cease to amaze me with their ingenuity.”

  Ralston smiled. “Rightly so. I’ve a great respect for the ancients and their ways. I try to never underestimate them.”

  “You may not underestimate the ancients. But it’s a pity you forgot about the rest of us.” A voice behind them made all three of them turn.

  Omar Qarim, the sleazy, conniving thief who’d originally stolen the Eye of the Serpent from Kate, stood surrounded by a phalanx of desert soldiers dressed in black robes, carrying AK-47 rifles. He nodded toward Kate. “Gag her.”

  Will shoved Kate and her father inside the room, jumped in behind them and pulled the stone door shut behind him. The door had closed all but a crack when the biggest, beefiest soldier slammed his shoulder into the stone, throwing the door and Will back. Staggering backward, Will tripped over a golden urn and crashed into a stone wall, his head smacking against the hardness. He blinked once, twice, fighting back the shadows settling in around him. The darkness claimed him.

  * * * * *

  Harry lay beside Edie inside the crate filled with scarves and apparently the sarcophagus of a princess. Lying over the stone tomb of a dead woman gave Harry goose bumps. Thank goodness he didn’t have time to dwell on the morbidity of the situation. His own mortality and that of Edie’s were in question with a storm of footsteps headed their way. “We have to get out of here.”

  “What if they see us?” Edie whispered, her warm breath chasing away the chill of death inside the crate.

  “We can’t wait here.” Harry eased the top up, just enough to see who was coming. As quickly as he eased the top up, he dropped it quietly in place. The men had reached the end of the aisle and turned toward the crate in which Harry and Edie hid.

  The footsteps stopped beside them and low voices spoke in Farsi, their words muffled by the dense wood of the crate lid. Harry understood just enough to guess at their next actions. “They’re going to move the crate,” he whispered softly enough for Edie to hear but not for the men outside the wooden slats of the crate.

  The lid above them shifted.

  Harry pulled scarves over Edie and himself, settling deeper into the crate. He held his breath, ready to spring up and yell, if they decided to remove the crate’s cover.

  Instead of removing the top, the men fitted it snugly over the crate, obliterating all light. Then they banged against it with something hard.

  His heart in his throat and a sick sense of dread creeping over him, Harry realized the lid had been nailed shut with them inside.

  “Uh, Harry, do you want me to wish us out of here?”

  Having been in tight spots before, Harry shouldn’t have been so nervous about this one. Something about being trapped with a dead woman made his body twitchy all over. He dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself to calm. “No. If you can stand it, we should go along for the ride and see where they take the sarcophagus. Are you going to be all right?”

  She chortled softly, the sound barely audible and anything but funny. “Yeah, sure. I’ve never been more comfortable. Who’d know that lying in a crate with a dead woman would be so exhilarating?”

  An engine rumbled closer to them. The box rocked and then rose as if suspended in mid-air. The engine revved and the box jerked, little bumps and shudders, letting Harry know that they were being carried through the warehouse. At last the forklift halted and the crate lowered onto a hard surface. Had the driver set them down on the concrete warehouse floor?

  Another engine started, emitting a different sound from the first. The crate bounced along with the engine.

  “I think we’ve been transferred to a truck,” Edie said into the darkness.

  Harry remembered the first time he’d seen Edie in
the museum in New York City, her eyes rounded, her mouth open, staring at him as he stood there naked in front of her after she’d rubbed him awake from his bottle. “I bet you’re missing the museum about now.”

  Her body quivered next to him. “Not really. With Mr. Baumgartner dead, I can only imagine that would have been my fate as well if I’d been the one there.”

  Harry fumbled through the tangle of silky scarves to find her hand and hold it. “We make a good team, Edie.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to be trapped in a box with anyone else.” Her fingers intertwined with his and she rolled over to face him. “Is it bad manners to kiss the man you love while lying with another woman?”

  “Somehow I think she’d forgive us.” Harry pulled Edie into his arms and kissed her, the panic of being locked in a box with a sarcophagus fading as his cock hardened and his need for this woman surged through his veins. “You know what I’m thinking?”

  Her free hand crept across his abdomen and downward to the rise in his trousers. “You’ve found a way to pass time locked in a box?” She lowered his zipper and wrapped her fingers around his straining cock.

  Her cool fingers made his breath catch in his throat. “You’ve got it.”

  She stroked his length, circling the tip with a single digit. “Oh, yes, indeed I do.”

  The ride in the darkened box suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad idea. And if they ran out of air, Edie could always wish them out of it. In the meantime…

  Harry slid his fingers beneath Edie’s shirt, pushing aside her bra to cup her breast.

  * * * * *

  The shrill blare of an alarm blasted Mitch from his sleep. He shot to a sitting position. When he tried to swing his legs off the bed, his feet wrapped in the sheets and he tumbled to the floor in a heap, pain shooting through his shoulder and hip where he landed. “Damn!” For a moment he didn’t know whether or not the flashing lights were from the bump on his head or emergency lights flickering in the corners of the room.