Bad Boy Summer (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 5)

by Sylvia Pierce

  “Oh my god.” Pam grabbed the arms of her chair and scooted over, putting even more distance between them. “Do you think she saw anything?”

  “She’s not yelling, so I’m guessing that’s a negative.”

  Both of them were panting and laughing, and Ash was having a fuck of a time covering up his hard-on with nothing but a beer bottle as Pam readjusted her towel and smoothed out her tangled hair. She still had half a beer in her hand, too, and now she held it in a death grip.

  “Just like old times,” she muttered, taking another swig right as Lizzie tromped up the stairs.

  “You guys better not be laughing at me.” Lizzie eyed them both suspiciously.

  “Don't mind us.” Pam held up her beer bottle. “We might be a leeeetle buzzed.”

  “I see that.” Liz hopped up on the railing in front of them, her feet dangling off the edge, kicking sand at Ash’s chest. “So, I’ve committed us to something fun tomorrow.”

  “Committed?” Pam swiveled her head toward Ash. “Black suits or white coats?”

  “White.”

  “What the hell are you two smoking?” Liz rolled her eyes. “Anyhow, Luke has a boat, and I scored us an invite. And before you make excuses, it’s just for half a day, and then you go right back to work.”

  Pam's response seemed automatic. “I can’t. You know I have to—”

  “What? Drink with Ash?” Lizzie eyed the empty beer bottles sitting on the table behind them. “If you have time to get trashed with my brother, you have time for a boat ride with hot lifeguards.”

  “Dizzy. We’re not trashed,” he said. “We’re just… on a break.”

  Pam held up her hand. “Actually, I’m kind of trashed.”

  “You two are totally fired.” Liz cracked up. To Ash, she said, “And before you say another word, warden, you’re invited, too.”

  “Swell.” The last thing Ash needed was to spend the day watching a couple of douche bags paw at his sister and his—well—Pam. But Liz seemed so excited about the prospect of them all hanging out together, and as far as ways to pass the time in California, you could do a lot worse than a boat ride.

  Besides, the day he let D-squared wander out to sea with a couple of Baywatch-wannabe lifeguards was the day the ocean froze over.

  “So, what do you say?” Liz kicked some more sand his way.

  Ash couldn't believe he was about to agree to this. “What time does the SS Dickhole set sail?”

  Liz sighed, but Pam giggled again. He considered that a win.

  “We’re meeting them at the docks at nine,” Liz said. “And you will be nice the entire time, Asher Burke.”

  “Hey, no one said anything about preconditions.”

  “I'm saying it now.” She kicked his chair. “Be nice, or Pam and I will put crabs down your pants while you're sleeping.”

  “Eh.” Ash shrugged. “Had worse.”

  “Yeah? Me, too,” Liz said. “This one time, in Cancun, I hooked up with this guy Ray Keller—whew. Talk about buyer’s remorse. Even the doctor didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into.”

  When Ash looked up at her, she was smirking.

  “Tell me you’re full of shit,” he said, “before I have to pay a visit to Mr. Keller.”

  “So the Ranger can dish it out, but he can't take it. Figures.” She stuck out her tongue. “Of course I'm full of shit. Learned it from watching you.”

  She kicked his chair again, so Ash did the only mature, respectable thing a big brother could do in that situation: picked her up off the deck, threw her over his shoulder, ran her down to the water, and tossed her ass in.

  Pam was right behind them, chasing them into the ocean, still holding her beer.

  “All right,” Ash said, grinning at his victory as Lizzie popped up out of the waves like a seal. “I’m in.”

  “Promise you'll be nice?” She stood up in the waist-high water and slicked her hair back, spitting water. With no makeup, no hair in front of her eyes, and that goofy grin, she looked like the sweet, smart-ass kid he remembered.

  “Fine. I’ll be nice.” Ash winked at Pam, then put his arms around his sister, picked her up, and launched her into an incoming wave. “Starting tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ash had never been seasick a day in his life, but the longer he spent on the boat with these jackoff lifeguards eye-fucking his girls, the more he wanted to puke. Twice he’d come close to yanking the one dude—Luke, he thought the name was—away from Liz, but Deeds interrupted him every fucking time.

  “You about ready for another cold one?” Decker—dude who apparently had a thing for Pam—asked Ash now. Without waiting for a response, he handed Ash a bottle from the cooler. He’d kept the beers flowing all day, which as far as Ash was concerned was his only redeeming quality, and the only reason Ash hadn’t tossed his ass overboard.

  Then again, it was still early.

  “What about you, Pam?" Decker was on his knees by the cooler, and he reached over to squeeze Pam’s ankle. “Ready for a refill on that wine?”

  Pam gave Decker a smile that turned Ash’s stomach. Was she actually into him? The fuck did she see in that guy?

  “That would be great.” She held out her cup, still smiling.

  Great? Dude wasn't great. He was trying to get into those black bikini bottoms, and for some reason Pam—the smartest woman he knew—was eating out of the guy’s hand.

  Just like his sister, draped all over Luke at the tiller. Fucking shitshow, is what it was.

  Decker pulled a bottle of white wine out of the ice, shook off the condensation, and topped off Pam’s cup, immensely pleased with himself.

  A hundred things ran through Ash’s mind—choke hold, left hook, shark bait—but he’d promised his sister he’d be nice, and he didn't want to embarrass them and ruin the trip. Best he could do was ride it out for now, nod and smile, and hope to Christ the girls would be over this little lifeguard obsession by sundown.

  Decker closed the cooler and sat down next to Pam, putting his arm on the ledge behind her. “Good?”

  Pam sipped the wine, then nodded. “Perfect. And I'm not usually a Chardonnay girl.”

  “It's from my uncle’s vineyard up in Paso Robles. If you guys are up for a road trip next week, Luke and I were planning to head up there for a few days.” He looked at Ash, who’d been stewing in silence across from them. “You, too, buddy. More the merrier.”

  Ash smiled without showing his teeth. Yeah, I just bet.

  “That sounds lovely.” Pam smiled again. Ash couldn't tell whether she was just being polite, or actually considering his invitation.

  Pissed him off.

  “She can’t,” Ash said. He cut his gaze to Pam. “You need to finish that paper.”

  “Paper?” Decker asked.

  “Ash.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but that only spurred him on.

  “You okay there, Deeds?” Ash knew he sounded like an angry dad, total dick, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You seem a little buzzed. Maybe you should lie down below decks, get out of the sun.”

  “Yeah? Maybe you should fuck off.” She gave him an icy smile and tossed back that wine, swallowing it in just a few gulps while the guys hooted and hollered.

  “The lady has spoken,” Decker said with a laugh that made Ash want to punch him in the face. To Pam, Decker said, “I'll get you some more.”

  “Pam.” Ash wasn't trying to make a scene, but he didn't want Pam to get wasted on the boat just to piss him off. He’d all but told her not to, so of course that’s exactly what she was about to do.

  “Hey,” Luke piped in. “She's not driving. Let her get her buzz on.”

  “Oh, don't worry about him,” Lizzie said. She abandoned Luke at the tiller and sat down next to Ash, elbowing him in the ribs. “He's just being brotherly. He can't help himself, despite his promises.”

  He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Liz elbowed him again. “Be nice,” she mouthed.

  “I hear yo
u, dude.” Luke laughed. “I got three sisters. If I were you, I’d want to kick our asses, too. I'm surprised you held out this long.”

  “We are bastards, comes down to it,” Decker said, tipping his beer bottle toward Ash. “But only on the weekends.”

  Everyone laughed at that, and Ash relaxed a little, clinking his bottle against Decker’s in an unspoken truce. Decker nodded, Ash returned the gesture, and they both slugged their beers, having completed an entire conversation without speaking a word.

  All was good, but Pam didn't look happy.

  Suddenly rising from the bench, she apologized to the crew. “I'm not feeling well. Think I’ll go lie down for a few minutes after all.”

  “What's wrong? You okay?” Liz asked.

  Pam pulled off her straw hat and ran a hand through her hair. “I'm fine. Wine just went to my head.” She passed by them and headed down the steps into the cabin, but not before shooting Ash a menacing glare.

  Guilt knotted up his insides. Yeah, he was being a first-rate asshole—total possessive prick. He couldn't even control himself. Luke and Decker weren't bad guys, much as he’d been trying to convince himself otherwise. It would've been a lot easier if they were—if he could blame them for his foul mood. But the truth was, Pam was under his skin in a bad way. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about that kiss yesterday, to stop imagining where it would have led if his sister hadn’t returned from the beach so soon.

  This morning, seeing her in that bikini again, fresh faced and ready for the boat ride, Ash didn’t want to share her with anyone. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms, carry her back to the cottage, and kiss her, taste her, touch her in all the ways that used to drive her wild. He wanted to find out if she’d still make that soft, happy sound when she came. If she’d still whisper his name right after, like he’d given her this fucking present, like she still couldn't believe anything could ever feel so good.

  Jesus fuck, get it together.

  A few minutes later, Luke found a calm spot in the water and dropped anchor so they could all kick back and eat. Ash wasted no time diving off the boat. The ocean was deeper out this way, and in five minutes, he’d cooled off, cleared his head, and climbed aboard.

  He’d just gotten toweled off and settled in for a sandwich when Liz asked him to go check on Deeds, which was an epically terrible idea, but he jumped up to do it before Decker could volunteer.

  He found her lying on the bed, curled up and facing the wall, still wearing her bikini and a long, thin skirt. Instinctively he wanted to go to her, wrap her up his arms and tell her that everything would be fine. Instead, he cleared his throat and waited for her to look his way.

  When she did, his fucking heart seized up.

  Her eyes were red and glassy, her cheeks pink. Looked like she’d been crying, though for the life of him, Ash couldn’t figure out why.

  “Deeds?”

  “What do you want?” Pam blinked away those tears and fixed him with a glare somewhere between bored and annoyed.

  “Just checking on you,” he said gently. God, he really had been a dick. “Feeling any better?”

  “I was before you showed up.”

  “Okay, I probably deserved that.” He sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped his hand around her bare foot, giving her a squeeze. She didn't pull away. Progress.

  They sat in silence for a minute as the boat bobbed on the water, Ash pressing his thumb into the arch of her foot. Above decks, the guys were laughing at something Lizzie had said.

  “You're missing the fun up there,” he said. “They’ve even got chips and guacamole—your favorite.” At least, it had been. What did he know anymore?

  “Ash, why are you acting like this? Honestly?”

  “Like what?”

  At that, she pulled her foot away and sat up, tucking her legs up underneath her skirt. Her eyelashes were wet, darkly framing her bright blue eyes. “Like Mr. Macho Caveman pissing on his territory. Like a total asshole.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one getting frisky with Boat Dick.”

  “Decker is not a dick, and I was just being friendly.”

  “You’re leading him on.”

  “How do you know?” She lifted her chin and folded her arms over her chest, inadvertently pushing her breasts together. Total fucking distraction, but Ash forced himself to stay focused on her eyes.

  I deserve a fucking award for this…

  “Maybe I have every intention of going home with him,” Pam said. “He invited me to Paso Robles—maybe I'm planning to go.”

  “Are you?”

  “That is so not the point!” Pam rose from the bed and headed toward the doorway like she meant to leave, but then changed her mind, whirring around to face him. Suddenly her face was a mask of rage, all directed at Ash. “Why do you even care? You show up here out of nowhere after ten years without a word—not even a damn text message or postcard—and you act like… like we’re still kids, sneaking around the beach and making out when no one’s looking.”

  Ash rose from the bed and stalked toward the doorway, covering the distance in two steps. “That was a hell of a lot more than making out, and you know it.”

  God, he fucking hoped she knew it. That it wasn't all in his head. That it wasn't all on him.

  But as for the rest of it… what the fuck could he say? That he’d been a pussy who didn’t know how to say goodbye? Who couldn’t deal with the fact that his family was falling apart and the girl he loved was moving across the country?

  “Ash, you can’t just show up in my life again and expect to pick up where we left off. I think…” Pam ran her hands through her hair and sighed. When she looked at him again the rage was gone, replaced instead with resignation.

  Ash’s stomach sank like a fucking rock.

  “I think I led you on yesterday,” she said. “I was in the sun too long and I had too much to drink, and then you kissed me, and—”

  “Wait. You kissed me.”

  “What? That is so not how—”

  “Pam.” He was right in front of her now, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her sun-kissed shoulders. “We can talk this out, rehash all this who-kissed-who bullshit, or we can leave the past where it belongs and skip to the good part.”

  “You’re—”

  “Here's my vote.” Ash crashed against her lips, cutting her off with a kiss he’d been holding back all day. She resisted for less than a second, then sighed and parted her lips, her whole body relaxing under his touch. Ash was instantly hard.

  The kiss, however, was short-lived. Pam slid her hands between them, her palms flat against his chest, pushing him away with the gentlest touch.

  Fuck.

  “You wanna be with him?” Ash whispered, jerking his head toward the doorway. “That it?”

  Pam lowered her eyes and sighed, her hands still flat against his chest, heat radiating from her palms. “No.”

  “Then tell me what you want.”

  “I don't know. I’m just… I’m totally confused.” She blew out a shaky breath. “You’re making me feel things I haven’t felt… things I thought I’d forgotten.”

  “Yeah, well. That makes two of us.”

  “I missed you, you asshole.” Her voice caught on the word, and she balled her hands into fists, punching him in the chest. “I really, really missed you.”

  He grabbed her hands, tipping his forehead against hers. “Me, too. Fuck, Pam. You have no idea.” Ash’s heart hammered in his chest, and he knew Pam could feel it, knew hers was doing the same machine-gunning under that bathing suit.

  “What are we doing?” she whispered.

  “No clue. All I know is, I can't stop thinking about that kiss yesterday. About what it would feel like to kiss you again. On the lips.” He took a chance and tilted his head, brushing his lips over her mouth.

  She shivered, head to toe. “Ash…”

  “And right here,” he whispered. Behind the skin at the base of her throat, her pulse throbbed
. Ash pressed his lips to it, then sucked, making her gasp. He kissed his way down her throat to her collar bone, then lower, licking a path along her bathing suit, right between her breasts. Pam trembled against the door frame, her chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath.

  “And on your belly,” Ash continued. With nothing but blind hope that nobody would come down the stairs, he untied her skirt and dropped to his knees, kissing his way down her stomach, over the silky triangle of her bathing suit. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he looked up at her and smiled. “Do you know where else I’d like to kiss you?”

  She whimpered, her head thrown back, her legs trembling.

  Needing no further encouragement, Ash pressed his face to her thighs, tonguing her through the fabric of her bikini bottoms. She was so hot for him, so fucking wet, and the taste of her… holy fuck. Even through the bathing suit, her scent enveloped him, bringing with it a rush of memories.

  He pressed harder, letting out a hot breath, and Pam clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. He was desperate to taste her fully, to tear off that bathing suit and bury his tongue in that perfect, sweet pussy. But that was too intimate, too fucking raw—not something he wanted to do on a boat full of strangers.

  No. That was something he’d savor, later, when they were alone. When he could take his sweet fucking time kissing, sucking, biting, and tasting every inch of her.

  But he wasn’t about to leave her all revved up like this, either.

  Slowly, Ash got to his feet, retracing the same path he’d blazed with his tongue on the way down. He nipped her shoulder, then her earlobe.

  “Do you know how badly I want to taste you?” he whispered, nose buried in her hair. Everything about her smelled and tasted just like he remembered, like apricots and honey. “Jesus fuck, Pam. Ten years without you, then you're standing in the kitchen in this goddamn bikini.” He skimmed his palms over her stiff nipples, his dick aching. “I can't sleep at night thinking about it. Thinking about you all alone in the room down the hall. Wondering if you're awake. Wondering if you’re thinking about me.”