by Kim Linwood
We’re eating the most tender steak I’ve tasted in my life, when Hunter leans forward. “I’m glad it was you. That won, I mean.” He’s looking at me with a raw longing that fills me with warmth.
I duck my head, trying to hide my flush. “Me too.”
“Plane ride and everything?”
“I’m still more of a boat fan, but yeah.”
He chuckles. “This show is a joke.”
“Then why do it?” I’d been asked why I was participating a dozen times, but I’m not sure I’d ever heard Hunter asked why he would go along with such a crazy idea. It’s not like he needs the money or the publicity.
“Short answer? My father. Long answer? My fucking father.” He sighs, taking his napkin out of his lap and leaning back. “He’s spent his whole life looking for the jackpot. But even when he had it, he was too blind to see it.” Hunter’s blue eyes cut straight through me.
He isn’t talking to me like a stranger. He’s talking to me like he knows.
Unease makes the rich dinner sit heavily in my stomach. “So how does the show fit into that?”
“For twenty-five years, I depended on him, which was a fucking joke because he’s about as dependable as a hurricane. You know it’s going to hurt you, you just don’t know exactly when or how bad. I don’t even think he means it. It’s just who he is. Always searching, never happy.”
A lot like my mother. I nod in understanding.
Hunter finishes off the last of his mocktail. “When I gained control of my trust money, everything changed. That’s when I moved back here for good, but without the convenient cash flow…”
“He needs you.”
Pointing his finger to his nose, Hunter nods. “He’s a selfish bastard, but he’s my father. His network needs a hit, and doing the show here with me saves a shitload of cash. Stupid, right? He’s using me and I know it.”
“No. Your heart’s in the right place. You should never feel bad for helping people who need it.” I reach over and take his hand. We’re more alike than he’ll ever know.
Things are shifting between us. I’m afraid that if I don’t steel my heart, I’ll never be able to do what needs to be done. I can’t afford to empathize with Hunter. If he loses the island, he might be annoyed, but he can just buy a new one. For me, this is my only chance.
I need to find the deed and get myself kicked off the island. Soon, before I totally fall for Hunter all over again.
But not tonight. I’m not quite ready for the dream to end.
“It’s getting awfully late,” I point out.
He leans back, arms behind his head. “Yeah, we’re supposed to head back in another hour or so.”
“Is that safe? It’s so dark, and you’ve been drinking…”
Hunter looks at me, confused. “No, I haven’t.”
Oh, that’s right. “Well, but if you had been…”
He arches an eyebrow.
Come on, work with me. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if we were stuck here?”
Comprehension raises his brows. “Ah! Yes, terrible shame. We could always get a room somewhere.”
“Two rooms.” Keep the cart behind the horse, buddy.
“On such short notice? I’d ask for a big bed.”
“Do that. In both rooms.”
“And maybe a hot tub.”
“Sure, in my room.”
A snore from the other table stops our argument in its tracks. The cameraman is fast asleep, head resting on his arm. Hunter and I look at each other and burst out laughing.
Hunter waves Chef over. “Make sure he ends up somewhere safe to sleep it off, okay? Put it on my tab.”
“Si, si. No hay problema.” He waves it away like the request is nothing. “Go on. I remember love.”
“We’re not in love.”
It’s obvious from Chef’s expression he doesn’t buy it. “Of course. My mistake.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Hunter stands up and holds out his hand.
I hesitate.
He looks down at me, hair tousled and mischief written across his face in giant capital letters.
Throwing caution to the wind, I grab his hand. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”
20
Hunter
We duck out of the restaurant and emerge laughing into a small parking lot. The heavy scent of flowers fills the night air, more intoxicating than wine. In the distance, San Juan lights up the night sky.
“What’re we going to do?” she asks. “The show people didn’t leave a car here or anything, did they?”
“Nope.” I have no plan at all, and it feels great.
Liz looks skeptical. “So we’re stranded.”
A car approaches, its brights on high. I step out into the road and wave my hands, trying to flag it down. Luckily they stop.
I grin at Liz. “Nope.”
It’s an old Chevy, driven by a sunbaked man with a bushy gray mustache and a fedora that sits crooked on his mop of straw-like white hair. He rolls down the window with a hand crank and looks at me curiously. “Si?”
Quickly I launch into a story that I make up on the spot. I’m with my girlfriend, and her father’s inside. We need to get away for a little bit, but my car broke down. I babble on like a lovesick fool until the old man cuts me off with a gesture. He gestures at the back seat, mumbling something about young fools and old idiots.
I smile at him, beaming gratefully. “Gracias.”
Liz and I slide into the backseat. He takes one look at her and gives me a nod of approval. Liz blushes and laughs.
Our driver chatters on in Spanish, yelling over the rattle of the engine and the music piping out of the radio. 50s rock and roll, which seems oddly out of place in the land of salsa and bomba drumming.
I take her hand and give it a squeeze while he tells us about his kids and his new granddaughter. Liz looks over at me and squeezes back. I’d been thinking of taking her into town, and seeing what sort of trouble we could get up to, but now I don’t want to.
It’s bad enough that I have to share her with this pretend “Sarah”. I don’t want to fight for her attention with every horndog that sees her in that dress.
“Pull over up there,” I ask the driver in Spanish, leaning forward and pointing to a spot I know leads back down to the beach.
“Que? But there’s nothing here. Are you sure you—”
“This is fine. Muchas gracias.”
The old man shrugs, but pulls over. We climb out, and he hits the horn a couple times in goodbye, probably hurrying home to tell his wife about the crazy people in the fancy clothes.
“Alright, so now what?” Liz looks around us, then back at me with a puzzled expression.
On one side of the road is just jungle, while on the other side is a short slope down to a deserted stretch of beach. It’s rocky here, and out of the way.
Perfect for being alone.
I pick my way down to the shore and look back up towards the road. Illuminated in moonlight, Liz is like an angel under a divine spotlight. I put my arms up, and she takes off her heels before I swing her easily down onto the sand. I hold her waist a little longer than necessary, but she doesn’t complain.
“Come on. Let’s watch the stars.” A couple of boulders stab out into the water, so I grab her hand and drag her that way.
“That’s your big plan? Steal me away and stargaze?”
“If we get bored, I’m sure we’ll think of something.” I wink, and she rolls her eyes with a laugh.
She steps ahead carefully, her shoes swinging from her hand. I follow behind, admiring the view.
The rocks are still warm from the sun, and worn smooth by the water. The soft breeze pushes a few dark, shadowy clouds, but mostly, the sky’s clear. Water sloshing gently against the shore and insects in the distance are the only sounds.
She sits, toes touching the water, making little ripples on the surface.
My feelings for her are complicated. Lust is at the forefront, of course. Teenage fant
asies unfulfilled, mixed with some very grown up longings for the woman she is today. It would be strange if I didn’t want her.
If that was it, I’d have her flat on this rock or riding me under the stars already. Itch scratched.
But it’s more than that. I take off my own shoes and sit down beside her, close enough that our legs are touching.
I care about Liz. I always have. The years we spent together were some of the most normal of my life. My stepsister, and my partner in crime. Two kids who’d been blessed with amazing opportunities, but shackled to parents who could barely take care of themselves, let alone children.
Looking her up and down, I’d say she’s all grown up now. I don’t want to break the spell, but I have to ask. “So you know why I’m doing this. Want to tell me why you’re here?”
For a bit she doesn’t answer. Is she going to come clean? I want to grab her shoulders and make her admit who she is. Force her to look me in the eyes and tell me what the fuck this act is about.
“Maybe I just want to be Mrs. Hunter Campbell. Is that so hard to believe?”
I snort a laugh. “Honestly? Yes.”
She looks up at me through those strange green eyes. “Why?”
“Because you don’t really know me. Because I’ve seen when Elena and some of the others are mentally adding up the dollar signs. You’re too smart for that. Too honest.”
Guilt so heavy I can almost feel it crashes down over her, shuttering her face.
“Am I wrong?” This is it. Will she tell me?
She shrugs. “What if I just wanted some fun? The tropical vacation hook-up of a lifetime.”
Just fucking tell me already. My patience is running thin. “Sure. Go on then, prove it.”
“What?”
“Prove it,” I taunt. “You’re playing awfully hard to get for a girl out to score.”
“Maybe I will!”
“So do it!”
“Fine!” She glares at me, then reaches back behind her head, and starts to lower the zipper on her dress.
A better man than me might stop her at this point.
I watch as she stands up and lets the dress fall. My cock doesn’t care why she’s stripping, and maybe it makes me an asshole, but I’m enjoying every second. In the dark, her hair looks more brown than red, and she looks almost like herself. Standing there in her black lace bra and panties, she’s not showing anything that I didn’t see when she was wearing her bikini, but it’s different. Sexier.
Her face is hidden in the shadows, but her creamy skin shines, all long legs and soft curves. She reaches behind and unhooks her bra, letting it drop next to her dress. I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
Especially when she bends over, and her full breasts with their dark, rosy nipples sway so close I could easily suck them into my mouth. Liz takes off her panties, one foot at a time.
The blood drains from my brain, headed south at an embarrassing rate.
I’m an asshole for taunting her into this, but I want her to keep going. Fuck, there’s no way I could turn her down if she does.
She stands up, and for one glorious moment, I see everything.
And then she takes a step and dives straight into the water, cutting a pale line through the dark water. My heart jerks in fear. I don’t know what the conditions are like under the surface. If it’s deep or shallow. Sandy or rocky. Then she pops up a few yards away, grinning.
I run a shaking hand through my hair. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You were the one that wanted to go swimming, weren’t you?” Her long legs kick under the water, completely bare but all I see is movement. “You’re a bit overdressed for it though.”
Does she think I won’t?
I stand up and open a few buttons on my shirt, pulling it off over my head. Is it vanity that makes me flex while I do it? Hell yeah, and the look on her face when I throw my shirt to the ground near her clothes makes it worth it.
“Like what you see?” I walk to the edge of the rock and put my hand on my belt.
“I—” Her voice cracks. “I’ve seen better.”
Not fucking likely. The idea of her looking at anyone else like she is me, pisses me off. I pull off my belt with a snap of leather than makes her start. My pants come off slowly, and I reach for my boxers, enjoying her little gasp when I bounce into view. Liz watches, eyes wide.
Standing on the rock, I kick away the last of my clothes. She dove in before I could get a good look, but I let her drink me in while I stretch and make point of not being in a hurry. Still, a man can only hold on for so long. Aiming for Liz, I take a breath and jump, keeping my dive shallow so I don’t hit bottom.
The water’s warm, but not so warm that it doesn’t take the edge off my need to drive inside her. I come up beside her, shaking the water off my hair. It’s shallow enough that I can stand on the bottom, my shoulders out of the water. “Hi.”
She grins nervously. “Hi.”
I put my hands on her waist and she freezes, gripping my wrists and pushing away slightly. I’m a hell of a lot stronger than she is. If I wanted to force the issue I could, but I want to keep her off balance, not terrify her. “Say no and I’ll back off,” I whisper.
She nods, a mischievous look on her face. “The perfect naked gentleman?”
I step forward, knowing that if we get any closer, she’s going to find out exactly how un-gentlemanly my thoughts are right now. “More or less.”
Liz floats closer, unable to stand comfortably where I am. I reach out again, fingers trailing down her spine until I can cup her ass and drag her to me.
She gasps softly when we come together. “Watch it.”
“Oh, I would, but it’s hard to see under the water.”
She snickers and ducks her head, looking away. Her body is slick and warm next to me. The hard length of my cock is trapped between us, and it would be so easy to slide her just a few inches up. The way her breath catches as we touch, I know she knows it too.
“I’m… I know I probably seem like a giant tease, but I’m not ready.”
I knew it before she said it. Fortunately, I’m not sixteen, and I don’t exactly have a condom tucked behind my ear anyway.
“Fair enough. But what about this?” With one hand holding her firmly in place, I bring the other up under her chin, keeping her eyes on me as I lean in.
“Wait, I’m not sure this is such a—”
She might not be sure, but I sure as hell am. There’s never going to be a better time than this, because this is right now and I refuse to wait any longer.
“But—”
I cut her words off with my mouth, kissing her hard. After a moment, she kisses me back, her arms winding around my neck to clutch me tightly. Supporting her by her ass in one hand and the other around her back, I pull her closer, until it feels like we’re one being, breathing each other’s essences. In that moment, it’s as if we never parted after the first kiss.
It’s raw, it’s primal, and it’s fucking perfect.
When we finally separate, the lust in her eyes mirrors how I feel. Pressed against her, I’m reminded of how little is needed to take this all the way. Just a little nudge, and I could be deep inside her.
Maybe she thinks the same thing, because she pushes off, floating away from me, chewing her lower lip and shaking her head softly. Fuck, the urge to follow is strong, but I’m not going to force her. That’s not my style. “I wasn’t going to—”
She nods. “I know. But I might’ve, and I’m not—not ready for that.”
Welcome to Awkward Beach, population two. I nod. “Yeah. Okay. One step at a time, right?” I do my best to keep my cool, but if there’s anyone who’s going to take a cold shower when we get back, well, you’re looking at him.
21
Hunter
“Welcome home, Sir. I trust your soiree with Miss Dreyer went well?”
I pelt my jacket at Danny, catching him square in the face. “Think fas
t,” I say with a grin. “Where are your lightning butler reflexes? Alfred would’ve caught that.”
“Bruce Wayne probably never left Alfred alone all day with a horde of cranky women, Sir. Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to do better next time.”
I laugh. “Cut the crap and get me a beer.”
“Up yours. Unless you’re prepared to pay me overtime, because it’s bloody late.” He flips me off with two fingers, throws my jacket across a chair and then grabs a single beer from the fridge for himself.
“I don’t pay you at all.”
“Exactly. I think I should renegotiate my contract, because my current terms are fucking rubbish, if I should say so myself. And I do.” Dropping into one of the leather chairs in my study, he twists the cap off his bottle and tosses it onto the coffee table in front of him. “You Americans have it so easy. The beer is mostly piss, but did you realize that you can still hardly find twist-off caps back home?”
“Hey, give the colonists a little credit. Sometimes we have clever ideas.” I grab my own beer, flipping the cap at Danny. He beats it out of the air with a laugh. Taking a chair across from him, I ease back, tonight still whirring in my mind.
“So.” He leans forward in his chair with a mischievous grin, resting his elbows on his knees and dangling his beer in front of him. “How did things go with the lovely Sarah? Did she put out on the first date?”
I growl and flip him off.
“Apparently not.” His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Hey, if I can’t play the field here, I’m going to have to live vicariously through you.”
We never did get those hotel rooms, but maybe that’s just as well. I’m not sure if I could’ve held back much longer, and from the looks of it, neither could she. Still, I can’t say I was particularly happy when the camera crews caught up to us. At least we had our clothes back on.
“I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to keep that flapping jaw shut for a change. I’d love someone more intelligent, savvy and sweeter-smelling, but I’m stuck with you.”
