by Zoe York
Inhaling roughly, she stroked over his chest, circling his pecs. She was eye-level with the piercing. Her mouth watered at the up-close view of it.
“I can do my own front,” he said, his words strained.
“I…okay.” She blinked up at him just as he closed the gap between them and, cupping her face in both of his hands, kissed her roughly.
“If you keep going, I’ll embarrass myself,” he whispered.
She laughed quietly. “So I shouldn’t ask you to do me now?”
He crowded even closer to her, pressing his erection into her belly. “That’s a dangerous request. I’m not the boy scout you think I am.”
“Who says I want you to be a boy scout?”
His eyes flared dark as he grabbed the sunscreen bottle from her hands and pointed for her to lie down and stretch out. She whipped off her gauzy sundress and did as he commanded. Unlike her, he didn’t concentrate just on her back. He started at her feet and worked his way up, and when he traced his slick fingertips along the bottom edge of her boy-short swim bottoms, she thought she might lose it, too.
But as soon as he reached her arms, he moved away, leaving a lingering sweet kiss on the top of her head.
They lay in the sun for almost an hour. When Cade finally rolled over, she handed him the sunscreen so he could finish the job he’d stopped her from doing earlier.
Which meant she got to see him touch himself, which was almost as good as doing the touching herself.
He watched her watching him, and when he got to his right pec, he lingered on the piercing.
So did she, with her eyes. And her mind. Her curiosity finally got the better of her. “Did it hurt?”
“Afterward. Like any other stitches or injury.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You’ve never had any stitches?”
“Nope. No broken bones or hospital visits, either.”
“Good,” he said softly, his eyes running over her body. “I’d hate to think of your beautiful skin being wounded in any way.”
She shifted restlessly on the chaise lounge. “Does it feel good?”
He lifted one brow and his lips twisted in a secret smile. “What do you mean?”
“I’m assuming that’s why you got it. Not just for looks, although…it looks good.” She glanced at it again, her gaze lingering on the silver balls on either end of the bar. On the small brown nipple in between, and the flat disc of skin behind it. Would it feel good on my tongue?
He waited until she looked back up at his face, then he smirked ever so slowly, making her wet and achy just like that. From a smirk. An expression that should have made him look like an asshole. It really didn’t. “Yeah, it feels good.”
“That’s…good.”
He held her gaze, stretching the heavy pause between them. Then he lowered his voice, for her ears only, and poured gasoline on the fire already sizzling in her veins. “I tug on it. When I’m getting myself off. I jerk myself with my right hand, and rock my left thumb over it. That’s why it’s on that side.”
A weak, gurgling sound came from Mel’s throat as she stared at him, picturing that. He swung his long legs into the space between their chairs and sat up.
“Here,” he said, tucking the bottle of sunscreen against her side. His knuckles rubbed against her waist and she shuddered with pleasure. He was halfway to making her climax on a public beach, with a few words and an almost innocent touch. “I’m heading back to the room.”
She rolled his statement over in her head. Did he mean for her to follow him? Why wouldn’t he just invite her to come back with him? Was this another way to toss the ball back into her court? Maybe she shouldn’t follow him. But she did, first with her eyes, and then with her feet as he disappeared through the doors and into the shade of the lobby.
She managed to slow herself down in the lobby. Go to the gift shop. Go find the information table about the race. Her footsteps faltered as she looked at those two options, then the elevator.
There wasn’t any way she could stop herself from pressing the up button.
Her heart hammered in her throat and her cheeks burned—could anyone tell what was in her mind? What Cade had whispered to her before leaving her at the beach?
Was she reading the situation all wrong? Would she find him reading a magazine when she got up to the room? “So yeah, thanks for leaving me the sunscreen, but I decided to go shopping instead.” She practiced the excuse for following him over and over again until the elevator car stopped on their floor.
Then she stopped thinking about anything at all.
Hands shaking, she fumbled with the room key. The light turned green on her third try, and she held her breath as she cracked the door open.
The shower was running.
And it was louder than usual, because the door was open.
She flattened against the wall opposite the bathroom door, dropping her beach bag on the floor.
Cade stood under the water, his back to her. He lifted one arm, then the other, soaping up as he washed off the sand and salt. Her eyes greedily ate up every bit of his body, from the parts she’d seen before—the broad shoulders and long, muscled arms and legs—to the breathtaking view of one part she hadn’t before—his tight, flexing ass. Paler skin than the rest of him, his glutes pulled high and tight with each stretch of his extremities.
She wanted to take a bite out of him. Squeeze that butt hard as he surged into her and smack it when they were done.
When his hands disappeared on the other side of his body and stayed there, Mel thought she might pass out from holding her breath.
Was he doing what she thought he was doing?
His right elbow swung out into the steamy water, then pulled tight against his side. Again. Holy shit.
A low groan carried over the hissing, steamy spray of water, and Cade rotated, sliding his back against the tiles, disappearing halfway behind the door, but giving her a view of the rest of him.
He was huge. At least she was pretty sure he was huge. There was steam and a giant hand in the way, and her perception was definitely clouded by lust, but as he fisted his cock, there was still a lot of flesh he wasn’t holding.
And his left arm was, in fact, braced across his torso, his hand heading straight to the piercing.
She wanted to do all of it for him. Stroking, tugging. And more… She wanted to drop to her knees for him, mouth open and welcoming.
Her sex flooded with moisture as she watched him get himself off, but she didn’t touch herself.
Not with her hands. She pressed her thighs together as she rocked her hips back and forth and squeezed her pelvic muscles. She felt…empty. Hungry. Her mouth watered for the taste of Cade’s skin on her tongue, and her pussy clenched as she imagined the thick press of that erection sliding between her folds.
Fill me up. She gasped as his hand sped up to a blur, as a long, sustained, cursing groan filled the air. She couldn’t see the actual evidence that he’d come—the glass and steamy water obscured that detail, damn them—but he sagged back against the wall, and so did she.
That was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
And now it was over, she didn’t know what she wanted to happen next.
He reached for the taps and her heart leaped into her throat.
— —
Cade could feel her presence as he turned off the water and grabbed the towel. He hadn’t meant to throw down that gauntlet. But having her hands on him, and then the way she watched him touch himself—it had all been too much.
He’d needed her.
And because of the…rules, for lack of a better word…they’d established, he’d needed to walk away.
He’d hoped she’d follow.
Hoped she’d watch.
Hell, he’d have died and gone to heaven if she’d joined him, but that wasn’t the filthy promise he’d poured into her mind before he got the hell away from her.
Next time.
He dried his hair, then
his chest. Arms, then legs. Each time the cotton swung over his sensitive cock, he twitched. Her shadowy form didn’t help matters. Finally he turned, towel still in hand, but he didn’t bother to wrap it around his body.
“Mel,” he said, her name cracking as his voice dropped when he saw her face.
She looked stricken. Not the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Jesus,” he whispered, hastily wrapping the towel around his waist. Nope, that wasn’t enough of a barrier. He gingerly filled the bathroom doorway. “Let me just grab some clothes…”
“No,” she said, holding up her hand. “I just…”
“What?”
“I need a minute.” She closed her eyes, and he slipped past her.
He pulled a t-shirt on first, then boxer briefs under his towel. Given what she’d just seen, that was probably covered up enough. He turned around and found her still standing in the same spot, her eyes still closed. Swearing under his breath, he stalked across the room and yanked her dress-thing from her bag and carefully scrunched it up around the neck hole, then slid it over her head.
She pressed her palms against his forearms after it fell over her small frame, and he pulled her against his chest.
Whatever the hell was going on, it was as much a surprise to her as it was to him. And it wasn’t sexy in the least.
— SEVEN —
Mel couldn’t stop shaking inside.
And she didn’t want Cade to ever let her go.
She didn’t understand the first point, but the second was rapidly becoming crystal clear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hitching between the words.
“You got nothing to be sorry for, beautiful.”
“That was really hot.” She needed him to know this wasn’t about seeing him masturbate. She’d liked that part.
“Not if it freaked you out, it wasn’t.” His voice was taut, angry, but he was holding her close. Gently so. He wasn’t upset with her. Which meant…
“Don’t be mad at yourself,” she said, a bit louder now. “No. No, no, no. I’m just being…something. It’s not about sex.”
“Okay.” He said it like a filler word, to mollify her. Not like he believed her, which made sense. She’d watched him jerk off then freaked out.
“Can we lie down? Together?”
“Of course.” He was really good at that calm, soothing voice thing.
But it had to be an act. She’d followed him back to the room for one thing and this wasn’t it. She’d made him think he’d done something wrong, and he hadn’t. He was upset, and he knew how to cover that up.
She’d ruined everything.
And she still didn’t want to let him go.
She laced her fingers through his as he tugged her toward the bed. He folded back the blankets and twisted her around, settling her on the bed. She held on when he moved to pull away. “No…” she whispered, and he climbed over her so she wouldn’t have to let go. As soon as he’d settled in the middle of the bed, she crawled into his side. She could feel the tears, almost at the surface, but they wouldn’t fall.
Mel didn’t cry. Ever. She got panicky and nervous, worried and fearful, but she didn’t cry.
She’d spent her twentieth year doing that, with good reason. A few years around that for some stupider reasons.
And Cade wasn’t going to make her cry. She was doing this to herself, with her overthinking and negative self-talk.
“Can we pretend that freak-out didn’t happen?” she whispered, running her nose along the long muscle of his neck as she molded herself against him. “Hit a rewind button to when you got out of the shower and found me waiting for you?”
“No do-overs, beautiful.” But his arm tightened around her back, banding her to him. Under her hands and mouth, his body tensed. “No need to pretend you don’t feel something, either.”
But pretending she didn’t feel stuff was Mel’s number-one way to deal with life. She was a strong, independent woman who didn’t invest herself emotionally in others.
“Okay. I got a bit overwhelmed. I’m over that now.”
“Just like that?” Doubt dripped off his words.
She smoothed her hand over his rock-hard shoulder and down onto the bare skin of his arm. Soft cotton t-shirt gave way to silky skin, dusted lightly in soft hair. “What you said to me down at the beach…that was hot. And watching you was even hotter. But then my head got a bit twisted up in worrying about what comes next.”
“More of the same, I hope.” His lips brushed her temple as he shifted, rolling toward her.
She nodded, shivering as his palms skimmed down her back. “Yeah. See? Totally over it now.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” he murmured.
“That’s annoying,” she pointed out.
“See? I told you you’d be able to tell me when I bugged you.” One of his hands settled in the small of her back, but the other kept going to her hip. To the bottom of her cover-up, then, ever so slowly, back up again. Under it. “I think we should trade orgasms for secrets.”
“So…you’ve already had an orgasm.” She wiggled closer. “Do I get to ask you a question, or is it confider’s choice?”
“Not truth or dare, Mel.” His hand squeezed down on her hip. Firm. Bossy. “Secrets. From the heart, something nobody else knows.”
Nope, she definitely didn’t do that. Not even for orgasms.
Apparently her silence was response enough. He sighed and rolled onto his back, letting her go.
Frozen, she stayed on her side.
— —
She was a maddening woman.
What was it about him that screamed be afraid?
Cade took a deep breath in, then let it out.
This wasn’t about him. He knew that in his head. His chest, though… He was a fucking emo sap for admitting it, but his heart was feeling a bit bruised. Mel was a woman he could see himself falling for. But while she obviously wanted him, it was only for his body.
He laughed.
“What?” she asked, her voice small.
Damn. “Nothing.”
“I’m not good at sharing.”
“No shit.”
“It’s not just you. Cassie’s my best friend, and she doesn’t know any secrets about me.”
He believed her. It just wasn’t enough. “Yeah.”
“You’re hurt.”
He shoved off the bed. It might be true, but he didn’t need to show her that he was hurt—sharing was a two-way street. “It’s fine. Let’s just focus on the race, and maybe we can try again when we get home.”
“I don’t care about the damn race, Cade!”
He blinked at her sudden, explosive anger. “Then why the hell are we here?”
She frowned. “It’s… It doesn’t matter. But it’s not that the race is more important than you. I’m not some cold-hearted bitch. I just can’t open up the way you want me to. There isn’t a switch that turns me into a big sharer.”
“It does matter. The race, I mean.”
“Not like you think.”
“But you won’t tell me why.”
“Why would I?”
Right. Gritting his jaw, Cade spun around and stalked out of the bedroom before he said something he’d regret later. He’d flown to Hawaii and agreed to partner with her in this ridiculous race that was more about sexy mud-puddle photos than real endurance, but she still didn’t trust him with the most basic information.
If it’s a secret, it’s probably not that simple. He didn’t care.
They’d had a real connection, or so he’d thought. Jesus, he sounded like a girl.
But not that girl. Nope, there wasn’t a sentimental bone in Melissa Vincent’s beautiful body. Well, fine. She wanted boundaries, she’d get them. In spades.
— EIGHT —
Mel flopped onto her back. Great. So they’d gone from first kiss to second amazing kiss to dirty talk and voyeurism to almost sensitive sharing to their first fight, all in one d
ay. And now Cade was pouting in the living room.
Shoving herself off the bed, she grabbed some clean clothes and stomped into the bathroom. She closed both doors with an unnecessary amount of force, then stripped out of her swim stuff. She carefully tied up her hair and stepped into the shower. It was half wash-off-the-beach and half therapeutic, so she stood under the hot water until her mind cleared and regret had firmly taken up residence in her chest.
After she dried herself off, she applied moisturizer to her protesting skin—two showers in one one day, plus sand and mud and the stress of maybe falling in love was a lot to deal with.
Falling in love. Hands shaking, she set the tube of moisturizer on the counter and turned her back to the mirror. She couldn’t look herself in the eye right now. Instead she looked down at her toes.
First of all, that was a ridiculous thought. They’d only had two kisses and a bunch of nice chats.
Second of all…
Damn. She pulled on her cotton lounge pants and tank top, and yanked open the door.
Cade stood on the other side, arms crossed. He looked pissed.
Her heart rate sped up.
“When I told you that I don’t do relationships,” she started, her pulse pounding so loudly in her head it was hard to hear her own words. “It was because of this. Because I was afraid—am afraid—that my past experiences have made me rather…dysfunctional when it comes to handling intimacy. Not sex,” she stressed. “But the relationship stuff. And the last couple of days have been so perfect I thought that wouldn’t happen with you. But then I realized—and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner—that it wouldn’t just be sex. It would be feelings and all that stuff, and what if you don’t get how hard that is for me? You say you only do relationships, but what if a relationship for you is just a few dates, or a few weeks, until you go away to save people in trouble? What if you don’t want someone at home worrying about you? How can I be all-in with a guy I can’t share all my crazy with, and I don’t know any of his?”
He glared at her.
“Is that enough of a secret?” she whispered, feeling all shaky again for a different reason.
“That was like five secrets, I think.” He slowly unwound his arms and braced them on either side of the doorframe. “That’s a lot of orgasms.”
