by Tess Oliver
I wrapped my arm around his chest and started swimming side stroke toward the shore, but every foot in the right direction was followed by six inches back toward the open sea.
“Hold your breath. Here’s another wave.” I gripped him tightly as the water rolled over us, taking us a few feet closer to shore. Before I could keep going in the right direction, the riptide pulled us back again.
I needed to go across the waves instead of with them. It would make the path to shore that much longer, but there was no other way to get in.
“Another wave,” I warned. This time the water polo expert freaked, and for some stupid ass reason, he threw his head back. His skull nailed me hard on the cheek, sending a jolt of pain through my head.
“Fuck, dude, you’ve got to relax. If you knock me out, then we’re both going under.”
I finally made some progress as I swam across and inched closer to the shore. The women had moved along the sand to meet us. For a few seconds, my feet touched solid sea bottom, and I pushed forward. The shore was getting closer.
Without warning, a sizable wave smacked us from behind, and we both rolled under like clothes in a washer. I kept a grip on his arm. As we surfaced, his free elbow shot back and landed directly on my stab wound. This time the acute pain knocked the breath from me.
I had a hard time holding onto my sharp elbowed victim as I tried to catch my wind. The waves pushed against us and then dragged us back.
In my haze, I glanced toward the beach. Britton’s face was pale with worry as she walked a few feet into the water. I sucked in a long, unsteady breath. The pain in my side radiated through my entire body.
The water pulled back, and I felt the sandy ocean floor beneath my feet. I grabbed Bradley’s arm and pulled him through the water. Britton sensed that I was in some trouble and waded out to meet us. She helped Bradley stumble to dry land.
I pressed my arm against my side to staunch the pain, but it felt as if I’d been stabbed all over again.
Britton waded back into the water. “What happened?”
I shook my head, which was spinning like a fucking top. “It’s fine. His elbow just landed on my wound like a dart on a bullseye. I’ll be fine after I puke.” I spun back around to face the water. Throwing up didn’t lessen the pain, but I definitely felt better.
Rita was knelt down next to Bradley, who looked gray with fatigue as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Thank you,” he said weakly.
“No problem. We’re heading up. You guys all right from here?” I asked.
“Yes.” Rita was still weepy. “You’re wonderful. Thank you for saving him.” She noticed for the first time that I was holding my side. “Oh my gosh, did you get hurt?”
“Nope, just an old wound. Take care.”
Britton picked up my shirt, took hold of my hand and draped my arm over her shoulder. “You can lean on me.”
We walked back toward the steps. The pain was slowly subsiding from sharp stabs to a thunderous throb that pulsed across my stomach.
“Maybe we should get you to a doctor,” Britton suggested.
“Nah, I think Bradley just awakened some of those damn nerve endings. He must have been one hell of a water polo player with those elbows. I think, with a little nursing, I’ll feel a lot better. As long as you’re the nurse. You didn’t happen to bring one of those hot little nurse dresses the chicks always wear on Halloween? That would really speed up the healing process.”
“I can check in my duffle, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t pack one.” We neared the steps. Our shoes were still at the bottom.
“Think I’m going to have to sit for this.” With a grunt of a pain, I plunked my ass down on the bottom step to pull on my shoes. Bending forward was pure agony.
Britton knelt down. “Let me help.” She wiped her hands over my feet to get off the sand.
“Hmm, I could get used to this.”
She shook her head. “You’re something else. You just dove into a strong riptide to save a complete stranger, a stranger, who despite his water polo skills nearly took you along with him to his watery grave, and you’re flirting like a madman with a raging erection.”
I smiled down at her as she struggled to get my shoe on. “First of all, madman with a raging erection is how I get up in the morning and how I go to sleep in the evening, so nothing new there. And if you didn’t make such a darn cute shoe fitter, I wouldn’t have made the comment in the first place.”
I held my breath and leaned forward to help her jam on my stubborn shoes. It took a few seconds of cursing through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw for the waves of pain to settle.
“At least the pain in my gut has lessened the gnawing hunger pangs.” I grabbed the railing on the stairway and hauled myself up to my feet. “Now, my sweet little nurse slash wood sprite, get me upstairs for some much needed first aid.”
Chapter 16
Britton
I walked back into the cottage with the bucket of fried chicken. Only a glimmer of daylight remained on the pink horizon outside the picture window, but it cast a nice glow over Slade’s naked body as he slept soundly against the mound of pillows. An ice pack and some aspirin was the best I’d had to him offer in the form of first aid. There was a miniature wet bar with some airline-sized bottles of whiskey inside the room. The motel was charging five bucks for each one. Twenty dollars worth of miniature whiskey bottles and two aspirin had finally knocked my patient out.
I put the chicken on the table and walked over to him. At every turn, the man wound himself tighter around my heart. He’d stepped in, without hesitation, to save Bradley from what was surely a grave situation. Once again, he’d put himself in harm’s way to help someone else. For a man who had suffered what seemed to have been a truly horrid childhood, he’d managed to hang on to his own slice of humanity. And he laughed it all off with humble humor. Now he was driving me across state lines in a wild chase to find answers to questions that deep down, I already knew.
I stood over the bed and allowed myself the luxury of looking at him, sleeping like the most masterfully crafted man in the world. The perfect angles of his face, every curve of muscle, even the way he swallowed in his sleep sent a surge of heat through me.
The scent of fried chicken seemed to stir him from his whiskey-soaked slumber. I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the bag of ice that had melted to cold water.
His dark lashes fluttered open, and he smiled up at me. “I had this great but kind of weird dream. I was kissing you, and you turned into a piece of fried chicken.”
I laughed. “While you were sleeping, I went out and found food, fried chicken, coincidentally enough.” I rubbed my fingers near the wound. There was some bruising around it, and the puckered skin looked slightly more swollen. “Shit, you poor guy. You courageously help people, and all you get in return is pain. What do you think? Should we go to an urgent care and have them look at it?”
He shook his head without lifting it from the pillow. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m only pissed that I might not be quite as masterful tonight as I’d hoped.” His cock grew as he talked. “Damn, Tink, look what you’ve done to me. I just have to think about being with you, and I get hard.” He reached for my hand. “You know something, looking at that angel face is better for my pain than any doctor, or ice pack, or whiskey. You’ve got me fucking spinning, Britton. Really. Never felt this way about anyone.”
Each word pressed harder on my heart. There was so much I’d kept from him. “I’m not worth spinning about, Slade. I wish I were.”
“Bullshit.” He pulled me down next to him. I wriggled closer and gazed down the length of his hard, sculpted body. His cock stood erect.
I reached down and wrapped my fingers around it. I pressed my lips against his ear. “I think you need your next session of first aid.�
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He closed his eyes as I kissed his neck and throat. I scooted down and ran a trail of kisses over his chest. It rose and fell with unsteady breaths as I moved my hand up and down his cock. I dragged my mouth over his rock hard abs. He reached down and smoothed his hands over my back and shoulders.
I stopped and sat up. “Sorry, Master, I’m the one giving aid.” I picked up his hands and lifted them above his head to the headboard. I kissed his mouth. “You need to relinquish control for this round.”
I moved back down and knelt between his legs. I wrapped my hand around his cock, leaned over him and ran my tongue around the hot, slick tip. A low, appreciative groan flowed from his mouth as I wrapped my lips around the thick shaft and lowered my mouth down over him.
“Baby, your mouth makes me fucking nuts.”
I ran my hand up and down his cock as my mouth swallowed him again and again. He met my mouth with a small thrust of his hips, asking silently for me to take in more of him. He filled my mouth as my tongue teased him. He lowered his hands and combed his fingers through my hair, holding me over him.
“Fuck yeah, I’m going to come, baby.”
His fingers tangled in my hair and his long, hard body tightened as his hot seed flowed into my mouth. He loosened his grip, and his body relaxed.
I pulled myself up next to him. “Feel better?”
A low laugh rumbled from his chest. “Hundred percent.” He wrapped his arm around me. “Tink, just lying here next to you makes me feel better . . . about everything.”
Chapter 17
Slade
I turned over in the dark room, deciding, once again, that I needed Britton. Even if it was just to hold her naked in my arms. Her side of the bed was empty, and from the coolness of the sheets, it seemed she hadn’t been next to me for awhile. I leaned up on my elbows forgetting, too late, about the bruise on my side. The ugly pain had lightened to an annoying, tender ache.
The balcony door was open. With a grunt, I sat up and pulled on my jeans. The warm summer day had become a cool coastal night. Gritty moisture coated the railing and flooring on the deck. Britton was staring out at the water. She’d pulled on my shirt and had it tugged over her knees as she hugged them to her chest.
She’d heard me walk out but stayed focused on the view. It wasn’t until I circled around in front of her to lean against the railing that I saw she’d been crying. I stepped closer and knocked down a row of tiny liquor bottles.
She looked down at them. “Another twenty dollars. The motel must make a fortune on those darn wet bars.” Her words were a little stretched by the tequila.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” I asked.
She dropped her face and stared down at her hand. She was holding her cell phone.
“Did you get a bad call or something?”
She shook her head. I crouched down next to the lounge and lifted her chin so I could see her face. “Was it something I did? I knew I should have asked before I ate that last drumstick.”
She laughed, but it was a short, sad sound that got lost behind the mild roar of the ocean below.
I perched on the edge of the lounge, facing her. Her tiny nose was pink from crying, and her eyes were a glassy brown. “Talk to me. Is it about our plan? Are you worried about facing the jerk who caused your sister’s death? I’ll be right there with you, Brit. Nothing is going to happen to you with me around.”
She nodded and stared down at the phone. “Damon didn’t have anything to do with Perris’s death.” A small sob shook her shoulders. She lifted her face. “It was my fault. Perris might still be alive—” The tears flowed faster. She took a deep breath to steady her words. “She’d left me a voicemail that night. The night she died. But I’d been dealing with my own problems, and another call came in right after. A call I needed to take. Everything in my life was going to hell, and in my usual state of self-absorption, I’d forgotten to listen to Perris’s message. Until it was too late.” She hiccoughed between sobs. The tequila had definitely gotten to her.
I pressed my hands on both sides of her face and looked at her. “Britton, relax, take a breath. You’re not making much sense. In fact, I now know even less than when I stepped out here, except that there were some phone calls.”
She wiped at her tears and caught her breath. I hated seeing so much hurt in her face. “God, you must think I’m a loon. I’m sorry, Slade. I see now that I shouldn’t have dragged you on this silly, useless quest to appease my guilt. You’ve been so amazing starting from that first night, the first night of my descent into full-on madness.” She trailed her fingers over the stab wound, and her shoulders shook again. “I can’t believe I caused this.”
“I told you it wasn’t your fault.” I stood up. “Shit, Britton, you’ve got to tell me what the hell is going on? I’m this far into it now, so don’t keep me in the fucking dark anymore.”
She leaned back against the lounge and looked out at the water again as if she was contemplating her words. Her focus returned to her phone. “The night my sister died, she called me for help. At that time, I was living just a few blocks away from the apartment she shared with Damon. Because I was too busy dealing with my own pity party, I didn’t hear her message until it was too late. I’ve kept it on my phone to remind me that I’m a horrid, selfish person.” The sigh that followed was filled with anguish. “I’ll let you hear it.”
She slid her thumb over her phone and held it up for me to listen. The weak, wavering voice that came through was hard to hear over the sound of the ocean and the unexplained tapping noise in the background of the call. It sounded a lot like Britton. I leaned closer to the phone.
“Britty,” she said, “I’m in trouble. Can you come?” There were long, anguish-filled pauses. “I’m having a hard time staying conscious.” The words were getting softer, almost like a dying woman’s whisper. “I think Damon . . .” And that was it.
Britton crossed her arms around herself. “She needed me. I could have saved her.”
“Come on, Britton, you can’t blame yourself. Everyone misses an important text or call. It was the way things played out. It sucks, but you can’t keep beating yourself up about it. And that end remark—”
She lifted her face. “I was sure she was trying to tell me that Damon had given her bad drugs or too much of something.”
“Too bad there wasn’t more.”
She shook her head. “The coroner’s report said she’d overdosed on sleeping pills, and the only other thing he noted on the report was that there was a contusion on her right cheek. They decided she must have hit it on the side of the chair when she passed out. Damon had been out with friends. They corroborated his story to the police. He refused to talk to me, and he never even bothered to show up to her funeral. I wanted to talk to him just to find out what had been going on between them. I knew he was abusive and a total prick, but Perris had pretended everything was all right. She had already spiraled out of control with drugs, and Damon had great connections that made him a steady supply source. Perris was counting on me. We have always been each other’s keeper, and I fucked up royally.” She curled her arms around herself. “We can turn back. Seeing Damon isn’t going to bring her back or answer any questions. He wasn’t there, so I’ve got to stop using him as a way to ease my guilt.” A shiver coursed through her, and she shrank down to avoid the damp air swirling around the deck.
I stood up and gazed down at her. “The only thing more heartbreaking than a sad Tinkerbell, is a cold, sad Tinkerbell.” I leaned down and scooped her into my arms. She leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed.
“I’m a terrible person, and now I’ve got you dragged into this. And you’re so damn great, like the best, hottest, bravest, extremely skilled in bed guy all wrapped up in this really nice package.” Her warm tequila breath brushed across my face. “Do you know how damn sex
y you are? And hot? And brave? Did I already say that?”
“Yep, Tink, think you might have had just one too many tiny bottle of liquor.”
“But those bottles are really small,” I said.
“Yes, but so are you.” I sat her on the bed and put her phone on the nightstand. She rested back against the pillows and watched me through heavy lids as I walked around to the other side and climbed in next to her.
“I think we should still go see Damon. Maybe he’ll at least talk to you and answer some questions. Might make you feel better. And you wanted to get your sister’s stuff, right? We’ll be in Palm Springs by late afternoon tomorrow.”
“But I feel silly taking up your time.” She yawned.
I took her into my arms. “Taking up my time? I was off work, remember? I could be playing video games and lifting weights. Or I could be hanging out with an extremely beautiful woman who makes me laugh and seems to enjoy wild sex as much as me. Pretty sure I made the right choice when I decided to take this road trip.”
She rested her head against my chest and was asleep before I could pull the covers up and over us. I lay there in the shadowy room watching her pretty face as she slept. I was fucking reeling at the mere thought of her and how badly I wanted to keep her with me. My brothers were never going to let me hear the end of it.
Chapter 18
Britton
Normally, long trips in the car made me antsy and bored. About the only time Perris and I ever fought was in the back of my dad’s Chevy van on one of our family trips. We always started out excited and giddy about the prospect of a summer vacation, but five or six hours into a long, hot drive, after the card games and I Spy games got old, we could hardly stand to look at each other. But our feuds were always short-lived. And by the time we reached out destination, we’d be laughing and smiling again.
