Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)(70)

“You’re so crazy, Raoul. You are getting turned on. We’re in danger of getting shot and you’re acting like an idiot.” He was rubbing his groin over her, back and forth, right there in the water with marksmen scanning for a target. “Do I need to remind you at least one of those men is a sniper? You deserve to get shot.”

“We can’t move for a few minutes and we may as well make the best of a bad situation. In any case, the contour of the basin is providing us with cover. They can’t see us here. They’d have to wade out into the water, into the open to actually sight us. Don’ worry, sugah, I’ve got the rhythm of the waves and my mind tuned for battle.”

She hadn’t noticed that the water was lapping at the shore. Part of her wanted to laugh and part of her was getting turned on. “You’re making me into a perv.” Flame pressed closer to him, cautious of not changing the natural, gentle movement of the water around them. “You’d better keep your mind tuned for battle.”

“Did I mention you smell so sweet?” He rubbed his face in her neck again, his teeth tugging gently at her skin, enough to send a shiver of excitement through her body.

“I smell like a swamp rat. You’re so crazy. Only you would get like this in the middle of rain and mud while we’re being hunted.”

His hand cupped her breast right through her soaked shirt, his thumb stroking her nipple. “Did I mention I’m partial to your breasts? I want to lie down beside you and just suck and play to my heart’s content.”

“Not only are you a perv about knives, you have an oral fixation.”

“Cher, I have a lot of fixations. Just saying the word oral conjures up that beautiful mouth of yours fixating on my very hard cock.” He kissed her ear, his tongue doing a little foray that sent another shiver through her body. Did I tell you I love your mouth? Hot and velvet soft and very moist. I don’ know if I can survive just thinkin’ about your mouth and tongue and all that heat.”

Flame wrapped her legs around his waist, moving with infinite slowness, very aware he was one hundred percent alert to their danger. His gaze moved ceaselessly along the opposite shore, studying every detail of the cypress grove. She was careful to align her body perfectly with his, her aching mound stretched tight over the bulge in his soaked jeans. He turned her on so easily and she didn’t even have his full attention. What would happen when his intensity was strictly tuned to her?

“That’s not fair, cher,” he chastised softly, his breath hitching just a little. “I’m concentratin’ here.”

She let her mouth wander down his neck, soft little kisses and teasing nibbles. “You were distracting me so I’d do what you wanted and stay here. I’m not stupid, Raoul, just susceptible to a Cajun’s charms.”

“Not any Cajun,” he corrected, “just me.”

“You sound so utterly confident. What makes you so sure?”

“You left the homing device on the airboat and you don’ make mistakes like that. Why do you think you did that, sugah?”

“Wh’d you lead me to your grandmother’s house?” she countered.

You two okay?

Gator started to respond to that faraway voice talking in his head, but stopped, his muscles freezing into position. He tapped Flame on the shoulder and held a finger to his lips. She nodded, puzzlement in her eyes as she slowly unwrapped her legs and allowed them to fall carefully away from his waist. Gator replayed the words in his head, listening to the sound, the choice of words.

That hadn’t been Kadan. But it was a direction. Gator tuned to it immediately and sent a blast of low-level notes, enough to make everyone in its path very sick, but hopefully not kill every living thing. He knew there were no other normal humans in the immediate area because he didn’t hear their heartbeats, but there were animals.

Obviously their enemy wasn’t exactly like Kadan. Kadan would never have opened his mouth and given away his location.

Flame suddenly slammed all her weight against him, taking him underwater. Bullets spit around them, boring through the water like angry bees. The shots had come from above, slanting down, indicating the shooter was in the treetops. She kicked away from the reeds, tugging at his hand to bring him with her. They swam out to deeper water, going against the current in the middle of the waterway as they looked for safer ground. The easiest and most logical thing was to let the current aid them, but the hunters would know and expect that.

The water was murky and it was nearly impossible to communicate even with hand signals so they used touch as they kicked strongly heading around the length of Burrell’s island. They swam for several minutes until their lungs forced them toward the surface. There was no real cover, so both only allowed their mouths and noses above the waterline to suck in the precious air before sliding back down into the depths again.

Twice they came up for air, circling around the island until they were certain they could approach without the hunters’ knowledge. As they began to move into the shallower, reed-choked water, Flame felt something grab hold of her arm. It squeezed like a vise, yanking her down, rumbling her into the rotting debris and muck on the bottom. She actually heard the snap of her bone as the force of the spin broke her arm. All without conscious thought she pulled the knife from her belt loop and began punching the leathery hide as hard as she could with her free hand, the hilt of the knife tight in her fist as she pounded her way up the head of the animal to the top. She sank the knife as deep as she could, going for the eye, driving it deep with every bit of strength she had.