The Sex On Beach Book Club

by Jennifer Apodaca

  Holly saw shock briefly blank his face before he tightened his jaw and looked up. His voice was casual. “I guess I left it in my car. Any other problems?”

  Parker shook his head as another car pulled up behind the cruiser. “No. That’s Detective Rodgers. I’m going to go talk to her, then we’ll be on our way.”

  The two deputies walked around the cruiser to where Rodgers parked. “Come here,” Holly said, and walked to the passenger side of the Range Rover. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to chance Parker thinking something was wrong. She opened the door so the dome light went on, then she looked at Wes. His face was pale and tight. “What is it?”

  He lifted his gaze to her. “It’s an old surfing magazine.” Holding the spine of the magazine in one hand, he used his other hand to flip the pages until it fell open to an article. He held it in the light so she could see. “That’s Michelle.”

  Holly saw a picture of a young woman with dark hair and vivid green eyes in one shot. In another shot, she was surfing. “Your sister? The article is about your sister? Is this your magazine? Did you forget about it?”

  He shook his head. “No. I bought this car after I moved here. Anything I have on Michelle is in a safe deposit box. And look.” He turned the page and showed Holly a sentence marked with yellow highlighter that read: My brother Nick taught me to surf.

  Anger brought color to his face and made his eyes flash. “Someone planted this in my car then called in that tip. Whoever it is knows who I am, and who my sister is.”

  It was well past midnight when they got to Holly’s condo, after going to the police station with Detective Rodgers. They had showed Rodgers the magazine and told her their suspicions. Rodgers was going to have it dusted for prints, but Holly knew that wasn’t going to turn up anything but Wes and Parker’s prints. Whoever planted the magazine was smarter than that.

  She undid her seat belt and said, “No need to come in. I’m going to do some research tonight then we’ll get an early start in the morning.”

  Wes leaned across the seat, lifted her, and pulled her toward him.

  She sucked in a breath in surprise. “What are you doing!” Why did she keep forgetting how strong he was?

  He settled her across his thighs. “I want you in my lap where I can talk to you and touch you at the same time.”

  Wes had stripped off his coat and tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his expensive shirt, yet he still looked like Mr. GQ. But his eyes didn’t look rich and sophisticated, they looked hot and a little desperate.

  It was that desperation that tugged at her.

  She shoved it away. “You’re thinking about sex again.”

  He dropped his gaze to her breasts. “Hell, yeah, I’ve been thinking about sex since I first saw you tonight.” He put his right hand on her bare shoulder and ran his palm down her arm.

  The intensity of his touch, of her reaction, startled her. It was as if she craved his touch, craved his nearness. Her body wanted to lean into him, to snuggle up to his incredibly strong chest…

  What was wrong with her? She didn’t snuggle. She wasn’t a cuddly woman. Ick. She was a tough, hard-assed kind of woman who took what she wanted, and on her terms. “Fine. You want a quickie, let’s do it.”

  His mouth twitched. “Maybe I just want to touch you.”

  Damn it, this was some kind of power struggle she didn’t understand. “Your hard-on says different.” She wiggled her butt around just to torment him. And herself. Already, she was growing wet and swollen for him. She’d gone too long without sex and now her hormones were doing a little sex-me-now dance every time she saw Wes.

  He leaned his face close to hers, while dragging his fingers back up her arm, across the halter strap of her dress and into the V of her breasts. “Hillbaby, you do live dangerously.” He used his free hand to pull her mouth to his.

  Holly tried to take control. She angled her mouth to drive him crazy, then slid her tongue along his. When he made a deep sound in his throat, she knew she was gaining the upper hand.

  Wes lifted his head and looked down into her face. At the same time, he dipped his thumb and first finger into the cup of her dress to grasp her nipple. He pressed gently, with just enough pressure so that her nerves screamed, Yes! She resisted the urge to lean back and give him better access. Returning his stare, she said, “I have to go in. My brother is staying with Jodi and Kelly until I get in there.”

  He tightened his arm around her back. “You aren’t running away from me this time. I want to know everything about you, Holly.” He stroked her nipple back and forth. “Like why you don’t dance.”

  She tried to follow his question, but he was making her hot and restless with lust. “I don’t like dancing. We should stop. Somebody might come by and see us.”

  Wes withdrew his hand from her breast.

  Holly had the sudden urge to slug him. Or grab his hand and put it back. Obviously she must be tired and frustrated from the case and it was making her too needy. She started to scramble off his lap.

  Wes held her fast. “No one is around. And no one is going to see me touching you.” He put his hand on her thigh.

  She took a breath, blew it out, and faced him. “Wes, let me go.”

  He studied her face. “First tell me why you don’t like dancing.”

  She didn’t know what he wanted. But she did know his long, warm fingers were sliding up her thigh. She could stop him, she was sure of that. But the blunt truth was that she didn’t want him to stop. When Wes touched her, it drove away the deep feeling of loneliness for a while. His touch made her feel whole, sexy, and very female. To remind herself of who she was, she answered, “Because dancing is stupid.”

  His green eyes heated with tiny yellow dots. He brought his hand to the hem of her dress and drew circles on the skin of her thigh. “Lying will cost you, Hillbaby.” He lowered his face. “You know you want me to touch you. You want to spread your legs and let me move aside your panties. Then I’ll play with your clit until you’re squirming and begging. You’ll be so wet, I’ll be able to thrust two fingers inside you. Maybe three fingers. And then, just when you can’t take it, I’ll slide my thumb over your clit and you’ll come.” He kissed her nose. “Unless you keep lying to me.”

  He was taking her breath away. Confusing her. She squeezed her thighs together. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

  He drew his finger up the seam of her pressed-together thighs. “You told me your mother teaches dance. And you looked like you had bitten into a rotten apple and found a big worm when you said it.” He softened his voice. “I want to know.”

  It stunned her how much Wes saw about her, and that he even remembered what she had told him. Especially with the trip to hell in a handbasket his life was taking. And in the faint light from the parking garage, she didn’t have the strength to lie. “My mom forced me to take dance classes when I was little. I hated them and I sucked at it. According to her, anyway. I just wanted to go play with my brothers. Cops and robbers was my favorite.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”

  Ignoring her closed legs, Wes moved his hand around the back of her thigh and higher to cup her butt cheek. “Anti-Princess, that’s why your brothers call you that. You were a tomboy instead of a princess.”

  Her stomach went cold. “I’m done playing twenty questions.” Grabbing his forearm, she tugged at his arm. His muscles bunched and he squeezed her rear, but didn’t move. “Knock it off, Wes. I’m not going to make out in a car like a pair of horny teenagers.”

  He slid his hand out and let her go. “What’s the matter, Holly? Am I not playing it your way? Quick and hot orgasm with no intimacy?”

  She scrambled off his lap to the passenger side of the car and grabbed her purse off the floorboard.

  He went on, “Or am I right? Is that it, Hillbay? I’m getting too close to your secrets so you have to run?”

  She closed her fingers on the door handle and looked back at him. His face had hardened from sexy, teasing cha
rm to unyielding stone. “It’s a job, Brockman.”

  He raised his eyebrows so that scorn poured from his green eyes. “Right, the job. Your career. It’s you against them, against us, the men who screw you over. Is that it?” He jerked his body around and started the car.

  She got out of the car and turned to face him. “The job is who I am, Brockman. And this little scene is why I don’t work with partners. So just back off, and stay out of my way while I find out who is pissed off enough at you to go as far as murder while they methodically destroy your life.” She slammed the door.

  Wes whistled as he flipped the pancakes. He was an idiot, of course, as he was certain Holly would point out.

  Loudly.

  When she found him in her kitchen, cooking breakfast with Jodi and Kelly.

  But like it or not, Holly had a partner, for now at least. And he was not afraid to fight for her, or fight with her, whatever it took to know her.

  His life was a mess, his sister might be in danger again, and he very well might have been set up for Cullen’s murder. And he’d had to take a very soapy shower last night to resolve his raging lust. Yet he was happier than he’d been in years.

  Holly would probably add lunatic to her insults.

  “You’re in a good mood.” Jodi looked over the top of the book she was reading at the table. She wasn’t a breakfast eater and had told him so. But then she’d eventually brought her book into the kitchen to watch him and Kelly cook.

  Wes smiled at her. “I like breakfast.”

  “Uh-huh. I think you like Holly.” She stuck her nose back in the book.

  “Is that it?” Kelly asked as she moved crisp bacon from the frying pan to drain on paper towels. She had her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, wore shorts with a teeny little top, and chattered nonstop. “Do you like her?”

  Wes added the last batch of pancakes to the plate staying warm in the oven. Shutting the oven door, he looked at Kelly. “I like her enough to cook breakfast for her. If she ever gets her butt out of bed.”

  “Her butt is out of bed. But what the hell are you doing in my kitchen?”

  Ah, Holly’s snarky morning voice. Wes walked the plate of pancakes to the table, then turned around. Holly was pouring herself a cup of coffee. She had on a pair of running shorts that cupped her delicious ass, and a thin T-shirt. Her hair hung wet around her face. She looked like an engaging combination of hard-ass with her firm body in an aggressive pose and her tough expression, and vulnerable with her bare feet, wet hair, and the wary look in her incredible blue eyes. A protective sensation clawed up from his belly to his chest. “I cooked breakfast. After I went to the store. You might consider going grocery shopping once in a while.” He went to the refrigerator to get out the orange juice.

  Holly said, “I told you last night—”

  Shutting the fridge door, he cut her off. “Not going to work, sweetheart. I’m not disappearing just because you piss me off.”

  Her mouth fell open. After she snapped it closed, she glanced at the two girls sitting at her table and blatantly watching them. “Don’t call me that.”

  If he laughed at her expression, she’d kill him. “Sit down and eat. You can snarl at me later.” He loved bossing her around. Mostly because she would make him pay—life was never boring with Holly. She didn’t take crap from anyone. He liked that about her, liked that she didn’t expect a man to make the world right for her. But she also made sure to run off any man that got too close, too intimate. He was beginning to understand her.

  Her own mother telling her she wasn’t good enough. Christ, that thought darkened his mood. He shoved it off and risked turning his back on her to pour the orange juice. He was counting on her not stabbing him with a kitchen knife in front of his two employees.

  Holly sat on his left and glared at Jodi and Kelly. “Who let him in?”

  Kelly answered with a big grin. “I did. He had food!”

  At that, Holly lost her battle with a grin. “Right, food. Some people actually insist on having it.” She forked three pancakes onto her plate.

  Wes added a couple slices of bacon. “Drink your juice,” he told her.

  “Your days are numbered, book boy.” She dug into her pancakes.

  He ignored her and worked on eating his own breakfast until the doorbell rang. Wes set down his fork and started to stand up.

  Holly stood and stared down at him. “You stay here with the girls.”

  He looked up into her silvery blue eyes and saw all cop. She was giving orders and she meant it. “Do you have your gun?”

  “I’m covered.” She took long strides out of the kitchen.

  “Wes?” Kelly said from his right. “Who do you think it is?”

  He took her hand. “Probably one of her brothers or another old boyfriend, but we’re not taking any chances.”

  Jodi looked up from her pancakes. “Holly can take care of herself. She’s cool.”

  “Hungry after all, huh?” Wes teased her.

  She ignored him.

  Wes heard Holly let someone in. “We’re eating breakfast. You might as well join us.” She came into the kitchen with Tanya following her.

  “Tanya.” Wes stood up. What was she doing there? He recovered enough to say, “Good morning. Would you like some pancakes?” Tanya was dressed in a pair of stretchy tight black pants and a zebra-striped top that made him dizzy if he looked at it too long. But when he looked up at her eyes, he saw pain and determination.

  “I’d just like some coffee, Wes. Thank you.”

  She sounded tired. Not surprising after that scene with her estranged husband and Bridget. He went to the coffeemaker to pour it for her while Tanya went around the back of the table to sit on Holly’s left. He leaned across the table to hand Tanya her coffee, then sat down.

  Tanya turned to Holly. “Do I still have a job with you? Starting tomorrow ’cause, you know, it’s Monday?”

  Wes turned to watch Holly. What would she say?

  Holly set her fork down. “Yes. And first chance we get, we’re going to go after Phil. If he was cheating, too, then he can’t invoke the clause of the prenuptial for your cheating.”

  Tanya’s shoulders relaxed and her face softened. “Thank you. I know what you must think…” Tanya looked around the table, then said quietly, “I just wanted to get Phil’s attention. I know that’s stupid, and then I fell in love with Cullen.”

  “Bullshit.” Holly held her coffee cup in both hands and stared at Tanya. “You were desperate for attention and Cullen gave it to you. That’s what happens when you look to a man to make you happy.”

  Tanya and Kelly flinched at the harsh words, while Jodi nodded and pushed her plate away.

  Wes wouldn’t have put it quite that way, but he agreed as far as Tanya went.

  Tanya stared into her coffee. “That’s what he called me, a ‘desperate housewife.’”

  Wes felt sorry for her.

  Kelly put her hand on Tanya’s arm. “Maybe he meant you’re hot like those women on that TV show.”

  Wes smiled at Kelly. She had a big heart.

  “No,” Holly said abruptly. “No,” she repeated, her face flooding with color as she sucked in a breath. “Bridget is ‘Barbie Babe.’ Tanya is ‘Desperate Housewife.’ He had a nickname for all the women. He wasn’t talking about a TV show, he was talking about his Web site!” She stood up and hurried past him and out of the kitchen.

  Wes got up and followed her. He found Holly in her home office signing onto the Internet.

  God, she was something. She had one leg tucked underneath her, her gaze locked onto the computer, her expression so intense, he could practically hear her brain working. Somehow, she’d pulled a clue out of Tanya’s words and she was going to work it.

  Holly had been right about one thing—she was damn good at her job.

  “The O’Man. Cullen is The O’Man! Look at these names.”

  As absorbed as she was in the computer, she’d still heard him follow her. His
PI would always have a cop’s instincts. He walked over, put one hand on the desk and one on the back of her chair. Looking at the screen, he studied the Web site. “This is the one you were looking at a few days ago.”

  “Yes.” She was nearly breathless with excitement. “See the list of titles for his podcasts?” She pointed to a sidebar.

  Wes read:

  Coming Soon: Desperate Housewife

  O’MAN SEDUCTIONS

  Anti-Princess

  Invisible Woman

  Wonder Woman

  Barbie Babe

  Plastic Girl

  Cat Woman

  Batgirl

  Black Widow

  Electra

  Lois Lane

  He turned his head and looked at her. “Anti-Princess? Is that you?” His mind tumbled over that. She had appeared to follow Cullen after leaving the bookstore the first night. But she had an explanation for that—Phil Shaker had hired her to find out who Tanya was sleeping with.

  Her bright expression dimmed. “No. My brothers thought the same thing. I’d never met Cullen until that night in your bookstore.”

  Watching her face, he told himself to let it go. But he couldn’t. “It wouldn’t make a difference to me.”

  She stiffened. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think, Brockman. This is about your case. Look at this.” She pointed to the screen. “This is why someone killed Cullen and stole his laptop.”

  One thing he knew about Holly, she was honest about sex. She’d just tell him. In fact, she’d use it to push him away. He lifted his hand from the chair to slide it beneath her drying hair. “Don’t tense up. Look, I’m sorry. I asked, you answered, and I should have accepted your answer the first time.” He rubbed the tension in her neck while directing his attention to the screen. “Invisible Woman. Remember Nora said that Cullen had called her that when we talked to her at the bakery?” It had stuck in his mind because it fit. Nora was just sort of there, nearly invisible.

  Holly nodded. “That’s right, I remember now.”

  Gently kneading the tension in her neck, he asked, “These podcasts—they’re like a radio show?”