Tough Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #2)(39)

Nope. Nothing.

“Excuse me for just a second,” I tell Ronnie when he pauses in his rambling long enough for me to get a word in.

I get up and walk toward shore, scanning the dark lake horizon for the lights of an approaching yacht. I see nothing except the reflection of the dozens of flaming tiki torches that are burning to illuminate the island setting.

I turn back and slip into one of the cabanas for a little privacy as I tap Mona’s number into my phone. The way she answers, I can picture her with one finger stuffed in her other ear so she can hear me on the phone. “Don’t leave!” she says without preamble, practically screaming. “We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

“It’s getting late. I need to get home.”

“It’s nowhere near late, Katie! Don’t you dare leave yet. I’m coming. I swear.”

“I’ll wait as long as I can, but if you’re not here in another thirty minutes, I’ll have to go.”

She huffs. “Fine. But give me thirty minutes. We aren’t that far away. We’ll be there shortly.”

“That’s what you said an hour ago.”

“Well, that’s what I thought an hour ago. Nautical . . . stuff isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

“Okay, okay,” I say in frustration. “Thirty minutes.”

“See you soon.” And then the line goes dead.

I inhale deeply and turn to find my way back to Ronnie. And run right into him. He’s standing behind me in the cabana. I grab my chest to still my runaway heart. “Ronnie! God, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he slurs softly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I say, taking a step back, away from his crowding closeness.

Ronnie takes a step forward. “You look so beautiful tonight. I just can’t get over the way your ass looks in jeans.”

What a crude thing to say, especially from Ronnie, who’s always fairly mild in his appreciation.

A little thread of unease weaves its way down my spine. “Thanks. I think. Let’s go back out to the tent. Mona said they’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”

I start to walk around him, but he winds his fingers around my upper arm to stop me, pulling me against his side. “Sit and talk with me then. Just for a couple of minutes.”

Still gripping my arm, Ronnie pivots slowly, backing toward the day bed–type structure that’s piled with pillows. There’s one in each cabana. As inviting as it looks, I don’t want to sit on it and talk to a drunk Ronnie.

I plant my feet, resisting his guidance.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve had a lot to drink, Ronnie.”

He laughs, giving me a sharp tug that unbalances me. I careen forward, right into his arms, which he folds around me as we fall together back onto the makeshift bed.

I make a strangled squeaking sound, surprised by the sudden movement. Alarm flashes through me. I go from uneasy to distinctly uncomfortable with Ronnie’s insistence. I push against his chest in an attempt to find my feet, but rather than letting me go, he laughs and rolls until I’m trapped beneath his weight. Considering how short I am and what a big guy Ronnie is, he holds me down with little effort. I’d say he’s easily twice as heavy as me.

“I think we’ve flirted around this attraction long enough, Katie, don’t you?” he says, his voice gruff with intoxicated passion.

Before I can set him straight, Ronnie smashes his mouth against mine. I clamp my lips together, my body going stiff as a board beneath him. That does nothing to deter him, however. He runs his overly wet tongue over my cheek and down to my neck, his hands multiplying by the second. They’re everywhere—massaging my breast, rubbing my side, gripping my butt, tugging my legs apart.

My alarm increases tenfold when he wedges his hips between mine and starts to grind against me. He’s moaning against my throat, licking and kissing and crushing me with his weight. I feel breathless, but not in a good way. It’s as though the pressure of his thick chest is collapsing my lungs.

“Ronnie, stop,” I manage in a pant.

“I know you want this as much as I do. You don’t have to pretend. I heard you on the phone. They won’t be here for a while. We’ve got enough time, sweet thing.”

As I struggle to bring up my chin and pull in gulps of fresh air, Ronnie’s fingers curl into the neckline of my shirt, dragging it down and pressing slobbery kisses to my chest. Panic begins to well within me when I hear the seam crackle.

“You feel so good, Katie. I can’t wait one more minute.”

Ronnie leans up as if to start taking off my clothes and I use the moment of freedom from his suffocating torso to twist my upper body out from under him. I try to wriggle away, but my movements seem only to further inflame him. “That’s right. Show me some fight. If you like it rough, I’m down with that.”

As if to prove his point, Ronnie runs a determined hand between our bodies, pressing his palm to the apex of my thighs and rubbing hard with the heel of his hand. I buck my hips against him, trying to unseat him, but he holds me down effortlessly.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he mumbles as he rubs.

I don’t stop fighting. I can’t.

When I’ve managed to wiggle us toward the foot of the bed, a little closer to a possible escape, Ronnie seems to sense the direction I’m thinking and he runs a hand beneath me to push us up farther onto the bed. This time he stretches out full-length on top of me, trapping my legs between his as he rolls his top half away. For a second, his face is illuminated by the flickering torches and I see a mad desire in his eyes. That’s when true fear blazes through me. In my gut, I realize that he’s not going to take no for an answer.