by Kate Aster
“We?”
He sighs. “Well, that’s just it. It’s not really we. It’s more like, they. The S in JLS Heartland is Sheridan. Like my name. It was started by my grandfather, and when he died, it went to his two sons and one daughter. My aunt and my dad didn’t have any interest in the business, so my uncle bought their shares. And then he turned the damn thing into a multi-billion-dollar company.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow. And they’re a great family.”
“If they’re such a great family, why would you want to get away from them?”
His mouth frowns, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen that expression on him. His eyes are usually filled with such levity.
“If we were back in Ohio, back with the family, we’d be living under their shadow again. They’re generous—hell, they’d give us all great jobs at JLS if we wanted. But we needed to break away from that. Go someplace where people don’t think of us as Sheridans, riding on anyone else’s coattails. We don’t take handouts from our family, and don’t want people assuming we do.”
“I’d never think that. It wouldn’t fit your personality. Or your brothers, for that matter.”
“Thanks. Glad you think that. I’ve done well for myself on my own. When my website started pulling a profit for me when I was still in the Army, I felt like I’d made it. Now I’ve got an app for it that’s bringing in a hell of a nice income. But it’s hard to even brag about something like that in my family because compared to a bunch of fucking-billionaires—forgive my French—”
“Forgiven.”
“—no matter what I achieve in life, it’s going to pale in comparison.” He cocks his head. “That’s why we like it here—my brothers and me. It’s so cut off from the mainland.”
I like that, too, I want to say. But I bite back the words.
“Here, we’re just three guys living the dream.” He laughs a moment. “Well, three guys and one little girl, that is.”
“A very lucky little girl.”
“The jury’s still out on that.”
Thoughtful, my head tilts as I look at him. “And what about the future?” I can’t resist asking.
“The future?”
“I mean, three single guys in a condo. Eventually, one of you is bound to get married.”
He coughs through his reply. “Bite your tongue.” He says it almost in challenge. Or maybe it’s a warning, as if that’s supposed to make him less appealing to me.
But it doesn’t.
I laugh. “I’m being serious. You’ve invested a lot in that place. I know what those condos go for. What if one of you wanted out?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Okay. Valid question. I guess Fen and I would be stuck with the place because Dodger’s the only one of us who has even a chance of settling down.” Again, his gaze is heavy on me as if he just hung a sign around his neck that reads Proceed With Caution.
“And in that case,” he continues, “Dodger’s already said he’d keep his share of the condo. His clinic’s going gangbusters, so he wouldn’t need the money to buy another house. We got it when the development had just gone up and have a lot of equity in it.”
“And Fen?”
“He’s as unlikely to settle down as I am.” He angles a look at me. “What about you?”
Amused, my eyes widen. “Me? I don’t own a share in your condo.”
“You know what I mean.”
I force a smile. “Yeah, I know. Me… well, settling down isn’t really in the books until I get my master’s. I’ve had my eye on a job at this private school in D.C. It’s kind of my dream job. And I’d…” Fuck. I cut myself off.
He’s too damn easy to talk to. Or maybe I’m just that lonely with this moat I seem to have dug around myself these days.
“You’d…what?” He coaxes me to continue.
“Just love to work there one day,” I finish. “So, no. A serious relationship isn’t in the books for me until I get back to my life in D.C.”
We curve around a bend in the shoreline to a remote part of the beach.
“Want to sit a while?” he asks as we come to the end of a stretch of sand.
We’re completely alone here, tucked away behind the profile of the jagged lava rocks. I shouldn’t do this.
But the ground looks so inviting.
“Won’t Stella be home from her helicopter ride soon?” I ask.
Sitting in the sand, he glances at the light-up display on his watch. “They’re probably already there. And she’s in good hands since Fen’s with her. He’s really softening up with a kid in the house. Besides, I have to admit, I’m not too anxious to get home. I honestly don’t know how Lancaster does it, raising her. I’ve had missions that are easier than this.”
Disarmed by the honesty, I laugh as I sit beside him. “It’s that hard on you?”
“Yeah. You gotta remember what kind of a guy I am. Always ready for battle. It’s the training. Anytime I take her anywhere, I’m in fight or flight mode, you know? And with me, it’s always fight, ready for something to go wrong. Ready for the worst case scenario. Waiting for her to get sick or hurt or stray too far from me.”
“You can’t think of this as one of your Ranger missions, Cam. It’s not a succeed or fail kind of thing. She will get hurt one day. She will get sick one day.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yeah, actually it should. Because all you can do is your best, and hope to avoid any irreparable damage.”
He chuckles. “Avoid irreparable damage. Good advice. So, you’ve always wanted to work with kids?”
Before answering, I indulge in the sight of him for a moment. On this secluded bend of the beach, even the dim lights of the Dancing Coconut are absent. Now that the sun has disappeared, only the vague, soft glow of the Milky Way as it begins to appear above us enables me to make out a trace of his profile, his unshaven chin, the angle of his cheekbones.
“Kids have this special delight that I always feel like we lose as adults,” I finally tell him. “They take it all in—everything around them—and just soak it up. Savor it. It’s like every sunset is their first.” I lean back, sinking my hands into the warm sand.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “There’s this part of me that keeps wishing Stella was a little older so that I could take her to do some of the things I love doing on the island. I could take her snorkeling in Honaunau Bay, or hike out to the lava flow—”
“—yeah, don’t do that with her—”
“No, definitely not. But then she just goes outside with me on a night like this and sees these stars, and she lights up as if she just arrived at Disney World. I love that about her.”
“She’s a great kid.”
He smiles and eases closer to me, and I unconsciously find myself leaning into him. It’s not intentional. But the side of his arm is right there, right where I need a little support, so I can’t resist.
“This is nice.” I didn’t mean to say it. I shouldn’t even call attention to the fact that half my back is leaning against him like he’s the best recliner on the planet. But I can’t help letting the words slip; I wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel this safe with a man again.
I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s my boss. I know how this could look.
But dammit, this is different. This isn’t a dark side street in D.C.
He’s not married.
And I’m not in danger from him; I know that in my gut.
“My thoughts exactly,” he agrees. “It’s hard to miss the mainland on nights like these.”
“Yeah. I miss my best friend, Sam, though. All the time. She was like a sister to me. Is like a sister,” I correct, hating that the distance between us makes me think of her in the past tense sometimes.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I can tell my brothers are starting to think of you as a little sister.”
“But not you?”
“No.” He pauses. “That’s not quite the way I feel
about you.”
With one hand, he turns my face to his and gently brushes the pad of his forefinger against my cheek.
“Thank God,” I breathe out, and in return for those words, I’m rewarded with the caress of his lips against mine. There’s barely a touch at first, leaving me wanting so much more, even though I shouldn’t.
This is not a date.
But it feels like a date.
I should not want to feel his hands on me… everywhere.
But I do.
God help me, I just want to remind myself that I can be touched by a man and actually be filled with desire from it.
So I feel myself yielding to the pressure of his lips, accepting it, even urging for more as I lean closer toward him.
My heart rate accelerates as he shifts, pulling me onto his lap. The hard press of his chest against me makes my nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of my dress. His hand moves, gliding gently along the side of my breast up to my neck, threading into my hair. And I taste a hint of him, a mix of beer and pepper from his mahi mahi, and I somehow need to confirm it, slipping my tongue between his lips.
I feel him groan and the low vibration of it makes me shiver, imagining that sensation elsewhere on my body. It’s just a kiss—too little to bring about the images of him licking and stroking me where I need it most. But his lips are so soft—such a contrast to his body—that I can’t help the way my mind yields to the fantasy.
Oh God, it’s been too long. Too long since I’ve felt white-hot desire like this.
No, I correct as my mouth eases open more to him and his tongue tangles with mine. I’ve never felt desire quite like this, like I might die if I’m not brought to complete satisfaction.
My needy whimper is barely audible, yet it seems to rouse him more as his arms pull me tighter, closer, until I feel the hard ridge of him against me and all I want to do is lie on top of him and press myself against the length of him until I shatter.
Reason escapes me as my hands brush against his pecs. I can feel his muscles grow taut at my caress, and I’m emboldened by it. This is insanity, letting his hands and his mouth possess me when at any moment someone might walk around those lava rocks and trip over us in the dark. Yet it doesn’t matter to me. This desire is the only thing that’s felt real to me in a long time and if I let go of it—if I let reason take over again—I swear I’ll weep.
His fingertips move downward, kneading a breast as his kiss moves to the bare skin just above the top of my dress. When he stops only a moment and his eyes meet mine, he seems to read my mind as his hand grips my arm and he eases me backward till I’m lying in the warm sand. A gasp escapes me when he pulls off my glasses and sets them to the side of us.
“I’ve wanted to see you like this,” he whispers. “Lit by nothing but starlight, with your hair stretched out in the sand.”
“Please don’t stop,” I whisper against everything I know and believe. But I don’t care. He’s made it clear he’s not looking for something serious—something that requires truth or honesty or sharing. And right now, I’ll gladly trade a part-time babysitting job for the chance to quench this fire that burns inside of me.
“You deserve better than a roll on the beach, Annie.”
No, I don’t. I’ve fucked up my life, dammit. And this is the best I’ve felt in a long time and you’re going to end it now? I want to scream it, and nearly do, when I’m silenced by the softness of his lips against me again. He’s gentler now, letting the pressure of his hand on my breast move to my belly, to my hip, then slipping below the base of my dress. The simple feel of his hand on my inner thigh is almost enough to bring me to climax, but then I feel him cup me, and I nearly cry out in need.
“Oh, baby, when you make sounds like that, it’s so hard to stop,” he murmurs against me.
“I don’t want you to,” I beg when his mouth returns to my neck, then to my ear till his breath tickles me.
“I need to,” he tells me. “But God, when I feel your heat—” His finger slips past my panties and he growls, “—and you’re so damn wet.”
He slides his finger along my slit and then touches me so lightly where I need it most, making tiny circles around my clit till the moisture spills from me. My breathing is jagged, coming in fits and starts as I claw upward toward satisfaction. Then when his finger slides into me, I thrust against his hand.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” he urges, letting me chase desire as I quake beneath him. “Let it draw itself out. No need to rush things.” His voice is like silk, words sliding into my soul as I moan. It’s like the orgasm has me in its clench and won’t let go of me.
“God, you feel beautiful, Annie. And one day I’m going to taste you. And I’m going to let my body fill you up till you cry out. Do you want that, baby?”
“I want that now,” I confess, the words strained with every muscle in my body still drawn tight.
“When I take you, you’ll scream. And that’s not good on a public beach. No matter how private it might seem right now.”
Yet still, I hear myself cry out when he slides another finger inside of me. He presses his mouth against mine to muffle the sound.
“Shhh, baby. Just feel it,” he whispers against my mouth as my core thrusts against the pressure of his hand.
A fire burns inside of me, back arching, lungs gasping; I can practically see the glow from the heat inside of me, even though the darkness of night has consumed us.
I want this. I want to feel safe and protected and possessed by this man.
In my life, I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I do right now.
His teeth pull away the fabric of my dress, then scraping against my nipple.
This is so wrong.
This is so right.
I’m caught in a maelstrom of need as my channel tightens up around his fingers inside of me, and I want more. I need more.
But then, when he sucks in my breast and nips me, his tongue gliding in circles around my pink bud, I let out one final gasp. Fireworks explode behind my eyes, and shattering, I sink back into the ground.
And the shame sets in.
I shouldn’t have done that. I want to say it, but know how it will look. I’ve had my satisfaction, then left him wanting. I’m nothing more than a tease—not too far removed from how the press painted me back on the mainland.
“I probably should have a little more control around you,” he says, sliding his fingers out of me. I can barely see, but there’s enough light that I see him bring his fingers to his mouth for a taste of me. The sight of it edges out the shame, replacing it with the carnal need to let him devour me.
“No, this was my fault,” I tell him. “Not yours.”
“Fault? You talk as though it’s a bad thing.” He covers my breast with my dress, then brushing a kiss to me just there where the shape of my nipple still begs for his touch.
“Isn’t it?” I manage to say. “Because all I want to do right now is tell you to follow me back to my apartment. And won’t that be awkward the next time I babysit?”
He laughs. “I promise I have enough self-control to never lure you into my bedroom when Stella is around.”
“But this isn’t like me, Cam. I swear it.” I know he can hear the urgency in my voice, and he probably doesn’t understand it. Yet I need him to hear this. “I don’t seduce people I work for.”
His grin is still wide on his face. “And here I was, thinking I was the one doing the seducing.”
“Then I should be the one resisting.”
“I’ve heard I’m irresistible,” he counters with a grin.
No kidding. I might have even said that out loud. I’m not sure. “I don’t mess around with my boss. It’s my rule.”
Against the backdrop of the stars, I watch him cock his head. “I’ll be sure to tell Lancaster.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Lancaster’s paying you. Not me. He sends me money for Stella. I use it for her preschool and for you.”<
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I suck in my lower lip, feeling slightly better from this, shaky ground as it is.
“So, I’m not your boss, Annie.” His lips meet mine again, and I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve felt them against me, even though it’s only been seconds.
His tongue slips inside me and I can taste myself on his lips, and it makes my core light up once more.
“You’re not my boss,” I whisper when his mouth moves to my neck. It’s like I need to hear it again.
Pulling away from me a few inches, he lets out a long, slightly pained sigh. “I should get you back to your car.”
He pauses, and a part of me wants to tell him to follow me home right now. But before I can decide, he adds, “I’m taking Stella out to a luau tomorrow night. You know, one of those cheesy ones at a big resort.”
“I work at one of those big resorts. I think I know.”
“Yeah. Suspect you would. So anyway, would you like to come along?”
I press my lips together, holding back a smile. “Still worried about Stella and the public bathrooms?”
When he grins, his teeth seem as bright as the stars behind him. “If I said yes, would you come?”
I tug his head downward, brushing my lips against his again before whispering, “I’d go anyway.”
Chapter 13
- CAMDEN -
You know how sometimes big corporations will swoop in and make a huge offer to buy some start-up company a guy just created in his spare time?
But then the start-up owner turns the corporation down. His company is his baby that he once nursed to life—and he’s not willing to give it up.
That guy?
That’s not me.
I can’t help thinking that as I sit at my desk this morning.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the distraction of work right now. I’m not used to being up at night with a woman on my mind unless she’s sharing the bed with me.
So with a boatload of updating to do on my website and app with this quarter’s advertisers, I should be happy to do what they say guys do best:
Compartmentalize.
Put thoughts of Annie aside and focus on work.
