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TECHNICALLY, CHANCE knew the average human could hold their breath for two minutes. He’d gotten a Navy Seal buddy to help him train to last three minutes, which had helped him secure roles on both Aquaman movies. There was that Guinness World Record holder in Brazil who could do it for twenty minutes, but only by breathing pure oxygen first.
#Cheating
But it felt like he’d been holding his breath since Anda walked out of the bar last night. His chest burned and was impossibly tight.
Or maybe that was simply what happened when his heart suddenly re-inflated after more than half a year.
“I don’t understand why we’re out here,” Anda said, waving her paddle at him from her kayak.
“It’s a gorgeous day to be on the lake. Cloudless sky. Stunning mountain view. Unseasonably warm. Plus, it’ll be a lot more fun to kayak over to the resort where I’ve arranged for lunch than it would be to drive.”
Double plus, it meant Chance got to ogle her beautiful curves barely contained by a bright yellow bikini.
And yeah, he hoped that she was sneaking glances at him, too.
Chance worked damn hard to keep his body camera ready to stand in for the most ripped men in Hollywood. Even though he wasn’t doing stunts anymore, he hadn’t relaxed his training much. Stopping was hard when it was all he knew.
“The view is stunning. I mean, it’s January.” She tipped back her head, shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her forearm. “Three quarters of the country would kill to swap places with me. But...it isn’t very...private.”
Huh. They were alone. Her comment felt odd. “There are probably a bunch of people down by the cable park, where you can jetpack out of the water. That’s why I brought us to this end of the lake. Pure privacy.”
“Sure, we’re the only two people as far as we can see. But it still isn’t...private.” And her purring tone was pure seduction edged with suggestion.
Yeah, he’d noticed that her attitude to him last night had been ultra-aggressive. “Screw me now” was the message she’d broadcasted.
Which wasn’t like the Anda he remembered at all.
Not that he objected one bit to the scorching kiss they’d shared.
Chance was thrilled to get another chance with her. This time, he’d get it right. Even though he still didn’t know what he’d done to run her off the show without a word...
“What sort of privacy are you looking for, Anda?”
Her forceful flirtatiousness faltered. “Something more along the lines of requiring a door. With a lock.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want to use me for sex.”
She began paddling again. Smooth, long strokes away from the shoreline. “What if I did?” she said over her shoulder.
Shit. Without knowing how he’d screwed up before, it made it tough to guess the right answer. Was she teasing or serious?
All he could do was lead with honesty. And stroke harder to catch up to her. “I’d never turn you down, Anda.”
“Ooh, that’s delightful to hear.”
“But...” Chance waited until he’d drawn up alongside her again to continue. Hooked the tip of her kayak with his oar to lock them side by side. “Sex is way down on the list of things I want from you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
Her top teeth bit down—adorably—on her full bottom lip. “What else do you want?”
“I want you to laugh. With me, at me, however I can get it. Your laugh is prettier than a harp.”
“You’ve got vast harp experience?”
“Sadly, yes. My sister used to play. When it’s right, it’s sweeter than cotton candy. And when it’s wrong? Well, I’d rather listen to racoons in heat fighting.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who appreciates classical music.”
“Because of the muscles? Does everyone at the Disney Concert Hall these days get checked for a PhD along with their ticket?”
“Sorry. That came off as snobby. I truly didn’t mean it as an insult. I think said it because I look at you and I hear the soundtrack to an action movie. Pumping bass, a driving rhythm. Especially when I watch your hips as you walk. It’s like you’re moving to a music that’s just out of earshot.”
“That’s a nice image. I’ll take it.”
“Good.” Now she looked concerned, pink tinging her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fifteen minutes they’d been out in the sun. Her hands were white-knuckling the paddles. “I’d hate to upset you.”
“Anda.” Chance reached over to stroke a hand down her soft, warm shoulder. “It’s okay. I was teasing.”
“Oh. Good.”
“I want to know what you’re thinking. How your mind works. That’s the biggest thing I want from you. The time to get to know you even better than before.” His thumb rested in the crook of her elbow, right where he could feel her pulse pounding as fast as if they’d been racing from the resort dock. What was going on with her?
Very deliberately, she pulled out of his grasp. Then she pushed off of his kayak and let the ripples of the lake carry hers several feet away. “I did all the talking last night. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”
“And spoil the day?” Good thing he was already in a boat, or he’d drown in his own sarcasm.
Her beautiful, pink mouth rounded into an O of concern. “Chance. It can’t be that bad. Can it?”
Not telling her was an option. But that’d blow the whole honesty trip.
And—mind-blowing sex aside—what they’d really been good at doing on the show was talking. Anda listened so intently. She didn’t interrupt, she didn’t dismiss, and she asked all the right follow-up questions.
His friends in Hollywood saw him as a cautionary tale and stayed the hell away. Chelsea thought he was damned lucky to 1) be alive and 2) still have any career. Chance wanted to talk to someone who’d be on his side.
He knew that was Anda.
Well, Chance knew it was the Anda he’d met last year. He just hoped that connection between them still flared as strong.
“You know why I’m here in Vegas?”
Using her paddle, she flicked water at him. “Because playing the lottery wasn’t working, so you decided to up your odds at the craps tables?”
“Yeah, that’s a sound strategy. No, I’m okay for money. Just not... happy about it.”
“What’s wrong?”
God, he’d been aching to tell her for so long. “Final Justice 3 premieres this week.”
Recognition flared her eyes wide. “Isn’t that the movie you got hurt on?”
“It’s been reclassified to the movie that ended my career as a stuntman.”
In a few hard strokes, she maneuvered her kayak back right next to his. “But—you were almost healed when we were back in Colorado. What happened?”
“It turns out there’s regular person healed, and then there’s a whole other level of stunt-worthy healed. My leg and shoulder—they don’t pass muster for that.” He executed a fancy triple-spin of his oar above his head. “As far as daily life goes, I’m fine. But the insurance companies won’t clear me for stunt work. I’m done.”
“Wow.” She paused, her face expressionless. “Before I put my foot in my mouth and say the wrong thing, how do you feel about that?”
The impulse to roll his eyes and bark out “shitty” was strong. But the reason he wanted to talk it through? The whole situation was way more complicated than merely “shitty.”
“Ah...conflicted.”
“I’ll bet. Would you like to run down the list?”
Chance scrubbed his palm over his face. “I thought I had years left to go in this business before figuring out what to do next. Suddenly my career, my daily life, everything I know stopped.”
“And it wasn’t your choice. That must be so tough to swallow.”
“Yeah.” A thought occurred to him. “It’s like what happened to you. Your boutique had to close with basically no warning. You were blindsided.”
“Ah, yes. Usually people say this to be sympathetic, but I truly can understand what you’re going through. It sucks.”
“Sure does.”
“What else?” she prompted.
“I should be grateful. Due to the ‘permanent inability to pursue my chosen career,’ the film’s insurance company paid out a whopper of a settlement. I mean, it isn’t Clooney doing another Ocean’s 11 kind of money, but I’m set. Comfortable without doing anything else.”
“I’m sure you’re grateful. But you can be grateful and still be full of regrets. Frustration, too. There’s no rule that says you can only feel one emotion at a time.” Anda cocked her head. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“You sure you want me to keep going?”
“Yes. Very sure.”
Chance trailed his fingers in the water to cool down. “My sister, Chelsea, is thrilled that I’m out. She thinks I spent too long cheating death. So I’m glad that I’m not adding to her worries anymore.”
“You’re a good brother. What do you do with your days?”
“I’m a stunt coordinator. I shadowed on one movie, and then put one under my belt solo. My next one is due to start soon. That way, I still get to use all my experience.”
Anda pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, studying him. “You don’t sound thrilled.”
“It looked right on paper. Made sense. But if I’m forced to close the door on that part of my life, I want more separation. Maybe in a few years this’d be the right choice. All I know is that it doesn’t fit now, watching people do what I want to be doing.”
“Of course it doesn’t. You’re rubbing salt in an unhealed wound.”
“Don’t hold back or anything.”
“You’re right. Logically, it makes sense. But your heart, your soul, isn’t ready for it.” She slapped her hands together, as if wiping away his career. “We’ll fix it. Do you have any other ideas up your sleeve?”
Her spirit, her unselfish urge to help, floored him. “Just like that? You want to help me reboot my life?”
“Yes. I mean...if you want me to. I don’t want to butt in if you’re only venting. I’m good if you need a sympathetic pair of ears.”
They were so completely in sync again. He adored the way she was ready to throw herself into his problem. “I’d love to get your take on something. An idea that’s a little bit crazy. A lot risky.”
“Isn’t that basically the definition of what a stuntman does?” Her lips blossomed into a wide smile. “I already think it sounds perfect.”
Support simply for having an idea? Yeah, Anda made him feel a hundred feet tall. Uber-capable. Chance loved it. “I thought I could open an elite self-defense school. Use everything I learned from stunt work to help movie stars and executives protect themselves. They’ve all got bodyguards, but—”
Anda jumped right in. “But look at what happened to Kim Kardashian in Paris? Her bodyguards were incapacitated, and she got tied up. Oh, this is brilliant.”
Her enthusiasm pushed him to spill more details. “Not just close fighting. Defensive driving, too. For when crazed fans or paparazzi are chasing them. Or, in the case of the super-wealthy, potential kidnappers. I know how to do everything, safely. It’d be using my skills in a completely different way.”
“I think you could give lots of people a level of peace of mind that they haven’t had in years. Plus, you’ve got all the contacts you’ve made over the years. I’ll bet you could fill a roster for the first six months with sending barely any emails.”
Hopefully. But... “It’d take a little more work than that. Hiring a staff, finding a facility.”
“What about that old kiddie park that shut down last year? You could use the parking lot for driving.”
That was damn smart. “Now you’re thinking out of the box. I like it.”
“I do, too.” She bounced in her seat a little.
The kayak tilted. Anda overcorrected by leaning too far in the opposite direction. Next thing he knew, she was in the water.
Shit. Chance didn’t think. Didn’t bother to assume that a Southern California native would know how to swim. He dropped his paddle on the floor of the kayak and rolled out of it sideways.
Two fast strokes had him at her side. Only the top of her head was visible above the water. Chance dove, hooked her around the chest with one arm, and surfaced. He immediately adjusted her head to rest against his shoulder. Raised one knee to support her like a chair. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Are you nuts? What are you doing?” Anda twisted her head sideways to skewer him with a confused glare. Her arms circled slowly, helping to keep her afloat.
Wasn’t it obvious? “Saving you.”
“From what, Aquaman?” Laughter burbled out of her as brightly as the sun reflecting off the water.
Now he felt stupid. And realized he’d overreacted massively. “Possibly drowning?”
“That’s...incredibly sweet. Unnecessary, but so chivalrous. I’ve never had someone attempt to save my life before. Thank you, Chance.” Her glare morphed into warm tenderness. Followed by her kissing the side of his jaw. “I guess I owe you something now.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I owe you an apology for making such a big deal out of it. I didn’t hurt you when I yanked you up, did I?”
“No, Chance. You’re not hurting me at all.” Her soft, slow words sounded like they cloaked a double meaning.
Which is when it hit him that his arm still supported her, with his hand splayed against the edge of her breast. That her leg hung down between his, rubbing against his dick and balls. That she was sort of bobbing in the water, riding his thigh.
That they were in a very sexual position.
Their kayaks had drifted while they’d talked, so they were now close to the shore. It only took a few strong kicks of his leg to get them underneath a bridge that spanned between two golf course greens. All Chance cared about was that it provided them cover and privacy, even though he didn’t see a single player out on the course.
“What I said made you jump, made you fall in the water. I need to make that up to you.”
“What have you got in mind?”
He couldn’t touch the bottom. And single person kayaks weren’t built for sex. But he could improvise. “I’m out of my mind, Anda, with how much I want you. How much I need to touch you.”
His friends gave him side-eye when he showed up at the gym seven days a week, still joining them in punishing workouts. Their unspoken question had been why Chance continued to push himself so hard to stay in shape. The answer, until today, had been because it was all he knew.
The answer today? So that he could easily, tirelessly, continue to tread water with one leg and his abs of steel, while continuing to hold this beautiful woman close.
“Touch me more, Chance.” It was a breathy invitation, and the signal he’d been waiting for.
Shifting a little, he got his hand inside her bikini top. Her nipple was already beaded. Probably from the cold water, but he hoped it was more than that. He circled his palm slowly, right over the taut tip.
Anda’s back arched. Her ass scooched back until it rubbed against his stomach. God, that was torture. Because Chance clearly felt the generous roundness of her bare skin, with the bikini barely providing any coverage.
With both of her arms still helping to keep them buoyed, Chance dragged his other hand down her smooth belly. She bucked against him as he cupped her through the suit. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.” Her eyelids popped open, and she threw him a saucy smile. “More, please.”
“There’s literally nothing I’d rather do.” Chance spared a look at the far opposite shore. Still clear of people. Middle of the weekday in January, it wasn’t a surprise, but he’d wanted to be sure.
They’d shared more than enough with the world when on the show. Everything that happened between them from now on needed to be private.
He slid his hand under the material of her swimsuit. Kept going to slide one finger deep inside her. Anda immediately clenched around him on a moan. His balls tightened, painfully. His dick forced its way out of the top of the waistband of his trunks to rub against her ass. There was no containing how turned on Chance was.
With her twisting and bouncing on his leg, it was clear that she was just as excited. Chance added a second finger. The mewling, panting sound of Anda enjoying his touch almost rolled his eyes back in his head.
She was so hot. So responsive.
They were so damn perfect together, just the way he remembered.
“I want to touch you, too.”
“Next time. Your job is to help keep us from sinking.”
“I’m so close. I just—” Anda broke off as he ground the heel of his hand against her clit, still pumping his fingers in and out. Her thighs slammed tight against his wrist as she let out a keening cry that echoed off the metal underside of the bridge.
As soon as her scream ended, he let go of her breast and used both of his arms to tread water. Anda sagged against his leg for a moment. “You’re so beautiful when you come. Your cheeks turn the same pink as your nipples.”
She quickly adjusted the fabric of her top to cover herself. “Nobody has ever complimented my cheeks before.”
“Give me enough time and I’ll compliment every inch of you.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have a condom.” Anda slid off of his leg, but patted his still obvious erection before swimming a few feet away. “Sex shouldn’t be one-sided. You need—”
“No. I got everything I need.” Her response sounded a little pat. Like the invisible barrier that had been up between them in the bar, the one that had disappeared once they started talking about his job, was back in place. “We aren’t ready to have sex yet.”
“Really?” And she slid her hand along his length again.
“We’re reconnecting. Syncing back up. I don’t want to have sex with you until we’re both sure it’s the right thing to do.” Because that had to be what had gone wrong last time.
They’d jumped into bed too quickly. Or maybe it was the pressure of knowing America would assume they’d had sex in the Dream Suite, and it had made Anda feel too exposed. Either way, since she’d bolted on Chance right after their night together, it had to be something tied to sex.
So, he’d take a million cold showers, if that’s what it took, until she was ready. No way was this over once they left Vegas. Anda had given him a do-over, and he wouldn’t waste it.
“That’s...almost as chivalrous as saving my life.”
“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”