Dangerous Tides (Drake Sisters 4)

Libby lay thinking about Tyson, her body aching all over again. She went over every detail of their evening, wanting to keep it forever etched into her mind. The beauty of his lovemaking, the perfection, the sheer ecstasy she'd never imagined. She should have realized Ty would be a dominant in all things, he was used to being the one in charge. He certainly saw to her every need. Her heart jumped, fingers sliding on the cool sheets under her. Everything had been for her. Tyson had given, taken charge, controlled, but he had taken nothing for himself. Of course he'd achieved a shattering orgasm, but he couldn't have felt the way she did-- complete. Sated. Loved.

Tyson had made her feel sexy for the first time in her life. He'd made her feel as if she were the only woman he could want to be with. He looked at her with longing, with a burning lust, but also with something much deeper.

And she'd responded without giving him anything back.

He was that little boy with his box of treasures again. His intellect. His house. His incredible sexual expertise. Even the motorcycle ride, his gift to the good girl so she could play bad girl. Libby groaned softly and covered her face with her hands. She hadn't seen it and she should have. He said she needed him. Well, maybe she did, but he needed her more. He needed someone to love him.

13

"WHAT the hell are you doing down here, Tyson? It's ten o'clock in the morning and you haven't been to bed. You were in an accident last night, ripped up your leg and arm, not to mention bruises, and you've got some mad chemist gunning for you." Sam sank down onto the bottom stair of the basement and shook his head. "You're a lost cause, bro. I swear you are. I'm getting gray hair trying to look out for you, man."

Tyson looked up from the latest sheets of data the computer had spilled out, squinting at his cousin. "I thought you'd sleep in, Sam. You were up as late as I was."

"Not quite, you bonehead." Sam grinned at him. "You didn't actually go to bed."

Tyson shrugged. "I tried. I can't sleep without her."

"Her?" Sam's eyebrow shot up. "Libby Drake? Look, Ty. I'm going to give you some advice here and for once in your life, will you please listen to me? Fuck her brains out and get it out of your system. Shower her with presents if it makes you feel less guilty, but for God's sake, don't fall into the trap of thinking you're in love and you want to marry her.

You don't exactly date a lot of women. If she's that great in the sack, by all means, have fun, but the truth is, that rush you're feeling is going to go away and you're going to be left with a big financial mess and a clingy woman."

Tyson looked back down at his data without answering.

"At least tell me you used protection."

"I don't have a disease and neither does she."

"How the hell do you know what she has or doesn't have?" Sam said, his disgust plain. "And I'm not talking disease, you moron, I'm talking pregnancy. The oldest trap in the world for a man with money. She's a damned doctor. She knows whether or not she can get pregnant probably right down to the minute."

Tyson whirled around to pin his cousin with an icy, warning stare. "I hope to hell she does get pregnant, Sam. If all I have to offer her is money, then, damn it, it's all hers. I'm in love with her." He'd never said the words aloud. He hadn't let himself think about the emotion. Loving Libby Drake, if she didn't love him back, it would tear out his heart. He wasn't the kind of man who would recover.

"That is such bullshit. You don't even know what love is, Ty. I feel like I'm talking to a damned sixteen-year-old greenhorn having his first sexual encounter. So she's a great fuck. That's all she is and that's all she'll ever be. You don't fall in love with them, you get your rocks off and leave it at that."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Tyson demanded. "You've known how I felt about Libby for a long time. I told you a few weeks ago I planned on pursuing her."

Sam clenched his fists in utter frustration. "I thought you'd be normal, Ty. I should have known better. You think every man in this town hasn't fantasized one time or another about one of the Drakes getting them off? Personally, I'd love to have Joley lying flat on her back, legs in the air, begging me for it, but you know what? Even if that happened, I'd fuck her and walk away. I'd go back to the firehouse and have my bragging rights for weeks until everyone was sick of every detail, but jealous as hell. The point is, I'd walk away. You don't get caught in the sex trap. That's for kids. Little boys who don't know better."

"You have an interesting philosophy, Sam, a great way to live. It isn't my way."

"You don't have a life. You've never had a life. You live like a mole with no friends most of the time. You can't be bothered with boring details such as actually paying bills or buying groceries. How long you think old Libby is going to stick around once you put a ring on her finger and she has access to all that money? Hell, Ty. Your own parents couldn't deal with you. You think Libby really wants you?"

"It's possible."

Sam snorted. "She'd be panting after me if I had control of the checkbook. You think she hasn't looked at me? I know when a woman wants me. I have women calling here night and day, not you. You think you're so damned smart." He sneered. "You're as dumb as a rock. I go out with ten different women, do whatever I want to them and they beg me, beg me to take them out again and they even pay for it. You don't see me having to dangle my money or my damned pompous Noble Prize in front of some slut's nose to get her to spread her legs."

Tyson took a step forward and stopped himself. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his fingers curled tightly at his sides. This was Sam. Sam sometimes lost his temper and said a lot of crap, apologizing profusely a few minutes later. Beating Sam to a bloody pulp wasn't the thing to do, no matter how badly Ty needed to do it.

Tyson had always known he held himself tightly under control, but the utter fury sweeping through him was like some terrible destructive storm, bent on destroying anything around him--or anyone. He knew he couldn't hold himself in check with Sam standing in front of him in spite of all his reasoning. "Get the fuck out of here," he bit out, taking another step toward his cousin. "Right now I want to tear your head off and stuff it in a garbage can. I mean it, Sam. Get out of my sight before I do something I don't want to do."

Sam leapt to his feet. The look on Tyson's face was enough to know he was in serious trouble. Tyson was a strong man with enough lethal training behind him to be intimidating during any given situation, but riled, he looked deadly. Sam rushed up the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Tyson heard a chair crash against it and bump back down, splintering along the way.

Swearing, Sam took two steps before he realized he wasn't alone. He stopped abruptly, towering over Libby Drake. His hands opened and closed, clenching into two tight fists.

"What the hell are you doing skulking around my house? Looking for cash lying around? Or just trying to drive a wedge between my cousin and me?"

"I'd say you were doing a pretty good job of that all by yourself," Libby replied. Her palm itched to slap his face. She couldn't imagine how Tyson would feel after listening to Sam shove it in his face that no one had ever really cared about him as a person. "Ty gave me a key and asked me to come over this morning."

"Great, I have to actually watch you seducing my cousin into making a fool out of himself. Women like you are a dime a dozen. You may as well be whoring on a street corner. At least a streetwalker is honest."

Libby tilted her chin, wishing she were taller. No one had ever looked at her with such a mixture of contempt and loathing. "You can't even consider, not for one minute, that I might love Ty for himself."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. He's such a lovable guy. And so suave with women. Hell, he wouldn't know how to please a woman if you gave him a map of her body and big red arrows pointing out the hot zones. He's rude to everybody. Because he's such a fuckin' genius, everyone is supposed to jump when he says so. Yeah, Libby, I believe you're really falling in love with him and that paltry

little estate worth upwards of forty million doesn't in any way have anything to do with you taking off your clothes for him. You disgust me."

"I thought you loved him."

"I do love him. Why do you think I'm going to fight you with everything I have to keep you from ruining him? Just because I know what he's like doesn't mean I don't care about him. I've been looking after him since he was a kid. He needs me. You're a sweet piece of ass, probably his first, and the rockets are going off for him, but you aren't going to get away with it."

Libby found herself shaking. She'd never been so insulted, or so despised. The bad girl image wasn't all it was cracked up to be. After listening to Sam's idea of relationships with women, the terrible things he'd said about her, she wasn't even certain she could face Tyson; but now it was even worse. An estate upwards of forty million? No wonder Sam thought the worst of her, but why didn't he think the best of Tyson?

"Well, this piece of ass is going to the lab, get out of my way."

Instead of moving, Sam planted himself squarely in front of the door. "Maybe you want to be with a real man, one who knows what he's doing."

She shook her head. "No, thanks. Your idea of a good time and mine are very different, but I'll ask Joley what she thinks about your oh-so-generous offer."

"You fucking bitch." He took a step closer to her, his face a mask of rage. Hard fingers bit into her shoulders, nearly pulverizing her bones as he shook her. The more he shook her, the more his anger seemed to increase and the harder he slammed her around.

It wasn't even the physical confrontation that was frightening, it was the anger radiating from him. Libby just didn't have the nature for such deep hostility. For a moment she imagined his hands creeping up to her neck and him strangling her. A small sound escaped, whether a plea or a protest, she wasn't certain, but she forced her shocked body to move, trying to imagine what Joley or Elle would do in the situation. She managed a kick to the shins and another squeak.

The door behind Sam flung open, hitting Sam in the back, driving him into Libby. She stumbled backward under his weight and went down hard, sitting on the tiled kitchen floor, staring up in shocked surprise at Tyson. He looked like an avenging angel. If he had come up with the idea of making peace with his cousin, the thought was gone in a single heartbeat.