Krush

by Ashlynn Pearce

  She waited with bated breath, and her heart beat out of her chest. Surely he would kiss her harder?

  “You missed your good morning kiss.”

  Chapter Five

  Cole stared at Angel. She wanted. He could see it in her eyes. In the way her tongue slid across her lips, and the pulse that beat staccato at her neck. Why did she run? She had to have known he would come for her.

  “I don’t do good morning kisses,” she breathed.

  “Why not?”

  “Cause I don’t spend the night, so there is no good morning.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “We were done.”

  “Are we?”

  He dropped his hands and braced them on the desk behind him. He wasn’t holding onto her or touching her. Would she step away from him?

  For a brief moment, panic filled her stormy gaze. She moved away and disappointment swept through him.

  “You had your fun. Time to move on to your next conquest.”

  His range of emotions was short. Never extreme either way, but this girl pushed him. “Didn’t we already go through this? I am not a player.”

  “Really?” She crossed her arms. “I’ve been in your room. You’re rich as fuck. You lied.”

  He glared at her. “You think because someone has money it means they’re a player? And I never lied to you.”

  “You said you built houses. Last I checked no one makes that kind of money building houses.”

  “Are you listening to yourself? I own CR Designs. I design and build custom homes.” He laced his hands in front of him to keep his rising anger in check. “You are infuriating, you know that? My salary has nothing to do with what happened between us.”

  “We had sex, Cole. That’s all.”

  That did it. In one swift move, he was on her and they tumbled onto her small couch. He lay half on top of her, one knee braced on the floor, the other between her legs. His hands tangled in her cropped hair, and his mouth slammed on hers. She moaned into his kiss, her hands already under his shirt. He pulled back abruptly. Her glazed eyes looked up at him.

  “Just sex?”

  Her pert mouth parted but no words escaped.

  “I want to have breakfast with you and take you to explore Half-Moon Cay. Will you come with me?”

  Still she said nothing.

  “I’ll take that as yes.”

  Cole set up the umbrella canopy and looked at Angel, who stood at the water’s edge in her little red bikini. Waves lapped around her ankles. Her pale skin held a hint of color from the sun, but was nowhere near tan status. The blue of the water was a beautiful backdrop for her petite frame. She was a complicated contradiction. He could have taken her right there in her room not moments after she called him a liar.

  The memory of her taste lingered. That awareness he’d sensed the first time he’d touched her was now a full-blown need. He wasn’t a player. Had only been with a handful of women since Melanie died. And he certainly didn’t feel the need to dominate them.

  Only Angel brought that out in him. No longer numb, he wanted to stroke her skin, watch her face while she called out his name… totally out of character for him. Beyond that, he wanted more than just her body. And he had seven more days to prove to her she wasn’t just another girl.

  Her lips pressed into a thin line. She was thinking too much, and he wanted that smile. The one that made him smile back.

  He ran toward her, scooped her up, and tossed her over his shoulder while she squealed with laughter. They fell into the water, dunking them both. They came up spewing water. He grinned when she splashed him.

  “What was that for?” she asked and pushed her wet hair from her face before balancing her hands on his shoulders.

  Water droplets clung to her lashes and those unbelievable storm blue eyes stared up at him. With an arm around her waist, her body was flush against his. That spark flared to life.

  “I wanted to see your smile.” His words came out in a hush as his heart picked up a beat.

  Her smile changed to parted lips.

  He brushed a knuckle along her jaw. He lowered his head, and her breath rushed out over his lips. He hovered. Waited. Met her gaze and wanted her to feel what he did. Her fingers curled tight on his shoulders.

  He dropped his lips to hers. She tasted salty from the sea as he nibbled and kissed her. Nothing existed except the rush that swept through him and the girl in his arms.

  Just like in her room, she came alive. Her hands slid over his shoulders and into his hair. She locked her legs around his waist and wiggled her hips so she rode along his erection. Her heels dung into his back, and with nothing between them but thin scraps of wet fabric, he wanted a taste of her passion.

  “You test my control,” he said into her ear.

  Her answer was a pant and a nip at his neck. He seized her hips and rocked her hard against him. Luckily, they were at the very end of the cay where he had rented a cabana, and there were very few people this far out. They were in deep enough water no one would know for sure what they were doing.

  He scraped his teeth just under her ear and she bucked hard. “I want you to come like this. Teasing me while you get yourself off.”

  Her half-lidded gaze met his as he helped her move. Her eyes closed while the water churned around them. She trembled, and he captured her kitten mewls with his mouth. She left new marks on his back as she hit her high.

  Her head fell on his shoulder as he held her. When her body finally relaxed, she lifted her head, and he couldn’t help but grin. A blush spread across her cheeks.

  “Are you embarrassed?”

  Her cheeks reddened even more and she buried her face in his neck. “No.”

  He laughed. “You are.”

  He took a few deep breaths to lesson his libido. He didn’t want to humiliate himself by walking to shore with a raging hard on. He started to carry her back, but she shot out of his arms, swam until she could reach the bottom, and walked to shore.

  His attention strayed to the way her ass swayed side to side. They both dried off in silence and he found it amusing that she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m going to get us a drink, I’ll be back.”

  She nodded but still wouldn’t look at him as she plopped down under the canopy and shoved on her sunglasses. He smirked and strode to the nearest bar, a ways down the beach. She needed some space and so did he.

  The chemistry between them jarred him. Nothing compared. Not even his wife. He’d met Melanie when he was fifteen. She was the daughter of his parents’ business partners, and even though they’d waited until after college to get married, everyone had always assumed they would. Did they get married because it was expected? Because they were comfortable with each other? She had been a safe bet. At least he used to think so.

  He remembered so vividly the last time he saw her alive. She’d gotten into her car, and had to push the seat back to accommodate her ever-growing middle. The roads were getting bad and they had been arguing. He told her to stay home.

  She hadn’t listened.

  A lump lodged in his throat. It’d been two years. Guilt ate at him. He should have forced her to stay home.

  He shook his head when the guy behind the counter yelled at him. “You ordering or what?”

  He asked for a beer and a sex-on-the-beach for Angel and took his time heading back to their spot.

  Half Moon Cay was probably the most beautiful stop on the entire cruise. Luckily they would be docking here again before the end of the two weeks. He paused when Angel came into view.

  He grappled with how she was forcing him to feel something other than guilt and remorse. She made him feel extremes. Nothing subtle about it. About her. He moved in closer and sat beside her under the shade.

  “Your favorite drink.” He handed her a glass.

  Her sunglasses were off and she was drawing in her sketchpad again. She met his gaze, took the glass, and then a sip. “Thanks.”

  “What a
re you drawing this time?”

  She paused then showed him. It was a tall man walking away down a beach. He jerked his gaze up to meet hers.

  “Yes. That’s you.” Her knees were curled to her chest, her head braced on her hand, mystery in her eyes.

  He looked at the drawing again. It was done in pencil, but she had outlined every muscle in his back. The shading hinting to a darker skin tone.

  “That’s how you see me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I look confident.” He didn’t feel it. Not since… then.

  A smile flitted across her face and his heart skipped a beat. “You are.”

  “You should always smile.” He touched the corner of her lips. “And I’m not. I’m a little surprised you see me that way.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding? You are one of the most confident people I’ve ever met.”

  “Even after our first meeting?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Even after you sorta made a fool of yourself. But a cute fool.”

  He reached over and pulled her sideways into his lap. She squeaked but didn’t protest. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t think he’d been called cute since he was a kid. “How does everything you do make me want to touch you?”

  He cupped the back of her neck and stared into her face, memorizing every curve, and the way her dark eyes lightened when she laughed.

  “How come every time you touch me I can’t breathe?” she asked in a whisper.

  He tightened his hold on her while his pulse ricocheted through his body. “Make a deal with me.”

  Her arm draped lazily around his neck, but her fingers dug into his skin. “What?”

  “From here on out, let’s drop the walls. Nothing but honesty and truth between us.”

  She stiffened. “Why? In eight days this will be over.”

  “Does it have to be?”

  “You’re talking crazy.” She tried to get off his lap but he tightened his hold.

  “Maybe. But what do we have to lose?”

  *

  Angel’s heart thundered in her chest. She really had no idea what he was asking of her. Drop her walls? She wasn’t so dense that she didn’t know she had walls, but damn, he always called her out on her shit. It was bad enough he’d gotten her off in the water. Totally not what she’d planned, but she hadn’t lied. She forgot how to breathe when he touched her.

  Right now, with his hands tracing her jaw and neck, thinking was a chore.

  “You can’t be serious? We’ve only known each other six days.”

  “So what? If I’m willing to chance it, why not you?”

  “What exactly are we chancing?” She choked on the words as his lips inched closer. His eyes were warm caramel. Just like her favorite candy.

  “I’m not even sure, so I will start with a truth. No one has made me feel what you make me feel. I’m even-tempered. I never feel strongly about anything.”

  “Lie.”

  “With you it’s not.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

  She gaped and her stomach dropped. Shit. “Are you always this open with strangers?”

  He laughed. “Anjinho Anjo, we are not strangers.”

  As if his voice wasn’t bad enough, he leaned in and kissed her lightly. She hated his light kisses. They made her want more. Made her want him to kiss her senseless. Made her want to crawl all over him. It took all her self-control not to bite his lip.

  “All right. I’ll give you that one.”

  “Why are you fighting this?”

  “Cause this is ridiculous. Crazy. Nuts. Makes no sense. I shouldn’t feel anything for you. I should be crying in my beer over Thrand. I should not be sitting in your lap wishing I was riding you instead. I should be able to breathe just fine when you’re around. I don’t understand, and it scares the hell out of me.” Her chest heaved as she tried to scramble and save herself from everything she’d just dumped on him.

  “Finally,” he muttered before his mouth landed hard on hers.

  She clenched his hair as he drowned every bit of thought and drenched her with nothing but feeling. A buzz started at her toes and sizzled right up her spine. She almost hit him when he broke the kiss.

  “You tell me this is not worth giving a chance. You give me a real reason.”

  She gulped in air. She had nothing. “Truth?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “Truth.”

  “Fear.”

  “Me too.”

  Fuck… That was not what she wanted to hear.

  Chapter Six

  Angel stared at herself in the mirror. She wore a black, high-waist pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees, paired with a white and black striped off the shoulder shirt. She finished it off with red heels.

  When she tried to apply matching red lipstick, her hand shook. She capped it, slapped it on the counter, and closed her eyes.

  Cole had asked her to dinner tonight at Nu Soul Jazz. They’d spent almost the entire time together since she boarded. Eating with him should be no big deal.

  Except… it was a big deal. She pressed her hand to her stomach as it did flip-flops. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a real date. And yeah, they already had sex, but he was asking for a solid shot. Walls down. Bare-it-all and see what happens.

  She looked back into the mirror.

  What if he really saw her?

  With a deep breath, she grabbed her clutch and went to meet him. People stared. She ignored them. This was her style, and she’d learned to not care what others thought.

  On the Deck Four, she walked inside the dimly lit bistro. Jazz music played low from the small stage at the back. She loved the moodiness of the sound. Glancing around, she didn’t see him, so stepped up to bar, and was immediately waited on. She tapped her black nail impatiently.

  A guy sat on a stool beside her and looked her up and down like she was for sale. “I’m so glad you made it. I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

  She arched a brow. Working in a bar, she’d heard every line. Including that one. The guy was older, had a touch of gray at his temples and a faint line where his wedding band should be.

  “Sorry. I’m expecting someone.”

  “Yeah. Me.” His words were slurred and lines etched his brow.

  “Divorced recently?”

  He paled, took a swig of his beer then shoved a hand through his hair. “Am I that transparent? How heartwarming.”

  “Happens to the best.”

  *

  Cole walked into the Jazz club and stopped. Angel wore an outfit that clung to her every curve. He loved her unique style, and his fingers itched to touch her. He stepped up behind her, placed a hand at her waist. She laid her small one over his and looked up. No surprise on her face. A thrill shot through him because she’d known who he was without looking.

  “I have a table reserved for us in the back.” He glanced at the gentleman she was talking to. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all. It was a pleasure talking to your lady.” He tossed down some bills and nodded to Angel. “Thanks for humoring me for a little while. Enjoy your evening.” With that he walked out.

  Angel remained silent, but she gripped Cole’s hand while they were led to a booth.

  “You look beautiful.”

  She smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

  They made small talk while they ate. Once the plates were cleared, he stared at her intently.

  “Why are you nervous?” he asked.

  “Because this feels like a real date,” she said, and lifted her eyes to his.

  “It is. But why does that make you nervous?”

  “This ‘truth’ thing is harder than I thought,” she muttered under her breath and took a drink of her wine. “I’ve never really dated much. Not in a traditional sense. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on one.”

  The curved booth was private, the music low and set a mood. Which was what he was going for. He wanted
to be able to talk. Carry on a conversation without blaring sounds and flashing lights. He stretched his arm out behind her and turned so he faced her.

  “I haven’t dated much either since my wife died.”

  She laid a hand over his. Concern marked her brow and he could tell she wanted to ask but didn’t.

  “I’d known Melanie since I was a teenager. She was the daughter of my dad’s business partner. It was assumed we would get married because we got along well. I’m not sure now that was a wise decision. The last year before she died, things had been difficult. There were… issues.” He looked away, knowing he wasn’t telling her the whole story. Some things he couldn’t share yet.

  “Since I work in a bar, I hear all these sob stories and I’ve learned what to say, but I got nothing except I’m sorry for your loss. There isn’t a time frame on mourning the loss of someone you love.” She lowered her chin and a slight frown marred her face.

  “You’ve lost someone?”

  “My mom had some complications while she was pregnant with my baby brother. I was six. We lost him.” She turned her hand up and laced her fingers with his. “I don’t think she ever got over it.”

  He swallowed and stared at their entwined hands. Should he tell her? He opened his mouth but he couldn’t get the words out. It was too soon.

  “I look at my cousin, Ethan, and wonder if he would’ve been like him. Tall and dark,” she said.

  He forced himself to look at her. Sadness lingered in her eyes. “Is this another guy I should be scared of?”

  “Ethan? Probably. But he hasn’t been in my life long. He’s about six-five and big. Lots of tats. He’s the lead singer of DirtSlap, a band he started with Thrand.” She paused briefly. “As soon as I get back to Nashville, he’s headed off to Vegas to get married.”

  Ethan or Thrand was getting married, but that’s not what caught his attention. “You say ‘married’ like it’s a bad word.”

  “Isn’t it? He hadn’t known this girl six months before he proposed to her… on stage no less. I know I’m not going to the wedding.” She tapped her finger on the rim of her drink.

  He arched a brow and watched her eyes flash. She always seemed cool and composed. He preferred the spark, but at the moment it wasn’t clear what was causing it. “Why not?”