CORD STOOD at the water’s edge and watched Lexi corral her wild hair into a ponytail. Then she pulled off her halter top and shorts, leaving her in an itsy-bitsy teeny-tiny bright-red bikini that nearly had him swallowing his tongue.
“Cord?”
He realized she was smiling at him, the witch, clearly pleased with his reaction.
“You coming?” she asked.
They were alone on the beach. He moved closer, so that the water lapped over his feet, then met her gaze, which was pretty much eating him up from top to bottom. “Lexi,” he heard himself rumble warningly in a rough voice.
Slowly she ran a finger over his pec. “I’m your friend,” she murmured. “But I’m not dead.”
He stared at her as she used his own words against him, and hell if he didn’t end up smiling. She flashed him one in return, then pivoted, grabbed the two boards and strode into the water.
He followed, eyes on her sweet ass as the water splashed up to her thighs and beyond. His life might be shit, but the view wasn’t so shabby. He eyed the waves. Barely swells today, maybe two feet. Which was good, considering even two feet could easily kick his butt.
But hell if he was going to back down, not with Lexi already in the water, holding the boards. He dropped his cane and limped in, taking one of the boards from her.
Lexi splashed in a little farther. Water droplets dotted her red bikini, darkening it in spots.
When she turned back to check on his progress, he could see her nipples were hard. “Coming?”
He’d like to be coming… He’d like her to be coming, too, screaming his name. He put his chest to the board and dove into the next wave to clear his head and to get his weight off his leg. He came up and shook the water out of his face, and felt himself smile.
Lexi splashed his back and he turned to face her. She put a hand to his jaw and lifted his face so that he was looking at her mouth instead of at her wet breasts. “I asked how you’re doing.”
Fine, since the cold water swirling about him was keeping his erection down to a minimum. To think, only two weeks ago he’d been recovering from surgery wondering why he couldn’t get hard, and now here he was, perpetually hard, and he had been since the night he’d gotten home and found Lexi in his shower in the throes of a self-induced orgasm. “Cord?”
Right. She’d said something and he’d missed it, something that sounded like “go to bed”? In that moment, with the sun on his back and the gorgeous woman in that heart-stopping bikini smiling at him, he was tired of fighting the attraction. “Bed sounds good.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Uh-oh. “Um, what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I said, I should have brought bread. For the seagulls.” She gestured to the birds bodysurfing near them.
“Oh.” Idiot.
“And then you said ‘Bed sounds good.’”
“I said bread sounds good.”
She wasn’t buying it. “Your nose is growing.”
Uh-huh, and that wasn’t the only thing.
She continued to stare at him for another moment, the pause long enough for him to realize that her breathing had changed. “‘Bed sounds good?’” she repeated yet again.
“Hell, Lexi. Have you seen yourself? I have sex on the brain.”
Her eyes dilated. “Then let’s do it. Now.”
It’d be so easy to say yes.
“And then maybe after, we can talk.”
“About?” he asked, sensing a trap.
“What you don’t want to talk about.”
Yeah, a trap. And because he was thinking about that and not what he was doing, a swell swamped him, rolling right over the top of his head. “Fuck,” he said when he resurfaced.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“You’re crazy,” he said with a laugh.
“And you’re scared.” She said this with terrifying gentleness. “You’re scared of being useless, which is ridiculous, Cord. You’re the most un-useless man I’ve ever met. Just think about it. I’ll leave the offer on the table for as long as you need. Well, not too long. A girl has needs.”
Their gazes met. He put a hand on the nape of her neck. Her skin was warm.
At his touch, she leaned in close enough to kiss him, messing with his balance and his head all at the same time before she pushed him back and smiled.
She was teasing him.
Not fussing over him.
Not babying him.
But making fun and making him laugh…and enjoying him while she was at it. She could have no idea what an incredible turn-on that was. So he returned her smile because…oh, yeah, there it was—
The wave hit her from behind. With a surprised gasp, she went down.
When she came up sputtering, he laughed.
Laughed.
A much better sport than he, she grinned, too, and they both lay flat on the body boards, out past the waves now, gently riding up and down on the swells.
“Nice, right?” Lexi said after a few minutes of blissful silence.
“It’s the nicest time I’ve had since…”
Her gaze was steady on his, waiting patiently for him to say what he didn’t want to say. He’d been doing his damnedest to push her away just as he did everyone else, but she didn’t push. Nor did she make any concession to the fact that he couldn’t hear worth shit and his leg was still all but useless.
She didn’t care about any of that, she cared about him. And he was realizing that he cared back, far more than he’d meant to.
“I have sand in my parts,” she said conversationally.
“Nothing a shower wouldn’t cure. I volunteer my showerhead to that worthy cause. I believe you already know how to use it.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I can’t believe you’re going to bring that up.”
“My mind brings it up daily. Hourly.”
“Seriously? Men really think about sex hourly?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s by the minute.”
She shook her head, marveling. “How do you ever get anything done?”
“Says the woman who was doing herself in my shower.”
“I couldn’t help it! I’ve never used one of those before.”
Reaching out, he grabbed her board and pulled her in close again. He ran a finger over her jawline. “And let me just say, no one’s ever put it to better use.”
“Not even Boobs-Out-to-Here?”
He grinned at the reference to his last girlfriend. “Not even her.”
She laughed, the sound soft and musical. The sun beat down on them, the light wind and lapping water keeping them cool.
“I’m having a good time, Cord.”
“Me, too,” he said, no longer surprised that he always did with her. Still gripping her board, he slid his other hand into her hair. Her lips met his eagerly, light at first, but as it always seemed to be with them, the connection sparked something too deep and demanding to ignore. Small brushing kisses weren’t enough, not by a long shot, and, as one, they rolled off the boards and gravitated to each other in the water. Cord pulled her in close, running his tongue along her lower lip until she opened for him again.
She moaned, and he lost himself in the sensation of her, her scent, her taste, the heat of her body, the way her hands ran restlessly over him as if she couldn’t get enough.
He knew the feeling. He had one hand on her breast, his thumb rubbing her pebbled nipple, the other down the back of her suit, cupping her ass. He squeezed a bare cheek, then let his fingers slide lower, discovering a creamy heat that made him groan and lose his balance in the waist-high water, staggering until she braced to help support him.
“I’ve got us,” she murmured, sliding her hands down his back in a gesture that made him forget being weak enough to need support.
She was strong enough for both of them, inside and out. “Lexi,” he murmured, and took advantage of her spread legs to touch her.
She gasped and shivered. “So you’re going to talk to me, then?”
“Now?” he asked incredulously, slipping a finger inside her wet heat.
She moaned and her eyes drifted shut. “After is good.”
He stared down into her beautiful, open face, wanting to agree. Christ, he wanted her so much he would agree to just about anything, except hurting her. And if he lied now, he would do exactly that. Because he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to open up. He wasn’t ready for that.
She opened her eyes, saw the regret in his, and let out a breath. She pulled free, even now taking the time to make sure he could balance before she let him go. The way she did that, took care of him at all costs, had him stepping outside his own misery for the first time since the explosion and thinking of someone other than himself. He was a selfish prick, wanting just the escape. “Lexi—”
“No,” she said, lifting a hand. “It’s okay, Cord.”
But it sure as hell didn’t feel okay. Not one little bit.
THAT NIGHT, Lexi couldn’t sleep. This was nothing new. The insomnia always came in cycles. When Brad had died, she’d gone months without a good night’s sleep, and then Cord had started running with her late in the evenings.
The exhaustion had helped ease her back into a healthy sleeping pattern. But she didn’t like to run alone, and Cord had been gone for eight long months this time, and gradually the insomnia had crept back up on her.
It was embarrassing—the weakness, the vulnerability—and so she hid it. But that night, somewhere between one and two o’clock, she gave up the fight and kicked the covers off, walking through her dark condo for a glass of water.
In her kitchen, she saw the light reflecting from the kitchen next door.
Cord was up.
Without stopping to think, she moved out her back door and, in her camisole and boxer pj’s, padded barefoot to his. He was in his kitchen, leaning against the counter, one crutch beneath an armpit—he used the crutches when he was too sore for his cane—the other hand holding a mug.
He wore only a pair of loose basketball shorts, so low on his hips as to be nearly indecent. She pictured him sleeping in the nude, and pulling those on almost as an afterthought as he walked through his condo.
His eyes were shut, his head back, exposing his throat. He was still, but she knew he wasn’t asleep on his feet.
And then he unerringly cut his eyes to hers, lifting a brow as she let herself in. Her eyes snagged on his body, rangy and hard with sinew from top to bottom. “Hey,” she murmured.
Without a word, he set down the mug and limped toward her, not stopping until they were toe to toe. Dipping down a little, he looked right into her eyes. “You’re not sleeping again.”
She looked away, but he put a hand on her jaw and brought her back. She nodded, then shrugged and grimaced.
No. She wasn’t sleeping again.
He set his crutch against the counter and opened his arms.
And she moved right into them.
“How long?” he murmured, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“Couple of months.”
“A couple?”
“Or eight.”
He went still, then let out a low breath. “Lexi.”
“It’s not the same this time.” She slid her hands up his smooth, sleek back and burrowed in, accepting his comfort, because damn if he didn’t get her in the heart. Every single time.
“Before, it was grief,” she said. A devastating grief. She and Brad had been high-school sweethearts. They’d known each other a long time. His death had left a hole in her heart and soul. But the fact was, one couldn’t maintain that level of sorrow; it just wasn’t possible. Slowly but surely, whether she liked it or not, she’d moved on. Moved on and…fallen in love again? “It’s not like that anymore. I don’t think about him as much.” Sometimes she couldn’t even remember his voice. “Now I just…” Love you…? “I think I’m just lonely.”
He made a soft sound that said he knew exactly what she meant. Like maybe he got lonely, too. Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the door.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Well, since you haven’t taken me up on my deal, we’ll have to find another way to absolve our loneliness.”
He let her lead him outside into the dark night. “More bodysurfing? You’re in pj’s, Lexi.”
“We’re not bodysurfing, not at 2:00 a.m., no.” She opened her car door and gestured him in.
“If you get pulled over wearing that, you’re going to make some cop’s night.”
“I’m decent enough. Get in.”
In nothing but those basketball shorts, he slid into the passenger seat and shot her a look tinged with very slight amusement, but he said nothing more, letting her lead.
Which she loved about him.
She drove them out to the north bluffs. There was no one there, not a single soul, which was exactly what she’d counted on. They sat on the very edge, their feet swinging into nothingness, the waves crashing two hundred feet below against the wall of the cliff.
She studied Cord a moment, watched him looking out into the night before shifting so that he could see her. “You’re even quieter tonight than you’ve been.”
When he said nothing to this, she went on. “I think it’s because, like I did over Brad, you’re grieving. You’re grieving the end of your career. And it sucks.” And taking a deep breath, she screamed, loud and long.
He didn’t jump. He didn’t flinch. He just arched a brow.
She grinned. “That felt good. Your turn.”
“You want me to scream at the ocean?”
“Yeah.”
“To grieve the end of my military career?”
“Yeah.”
He gave a little head shake, like he couldn’t believe what he was going to do. And then he turned back to the water and let out a powerful yell from the top of his lungs. When he was done, he smiled.
Her smile widened. “Right?”
“Not bad,” he admitted. “But I can think of a better way to make you scream.”