THE RIDE BACK to the marina was uneventful. If Piper had been behind the wheel of the Feelin’ Free, Cal bet she’d have opened up the throttle and raced him every inch of the way. Instead, Carla kept the other motorboat to a nice, steady pace, content to follow Cal’s lead.
Piper dropped down onto one of the bench seats where she had a direct line of sight on him. “You want to talk about it?”
He didn’t have to ask what “it” was. Piper wasn’t blind. She’d clearly seen him struggling on his free dives, and now she was asking the questions he didn’t want to answer. He tightened his grasp on the steering wheel and let the speedometer creep up a little.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” he said, because admitting to the truth was impossible.
“Uh-huh.” Piper didn’t sound as if she believed him. “The dive didn’t work out so well for you.”
He shrugged. “We both know you’re going to insist on using Rose Wall in our demo. Your text mentioned sea lions, as well. Maybe I’m tired of fighting you on every point, Piper.”
She gave him what he was coming to think of as The Look. “You think? We’re oil and water. I’m not sure we’ve ever agreed on anything.”
“Yeah, but I blame you.”
She smiled and looked out over the water. Discovery Island’s harbor wasn’t precisely a bustling hotbed of activity. A few motor launches headed in and out, ferrying visitors who’d plunked down a substantial number of dollars for a charter fishing trip. Piper looked rumpled and relaxed, her hair whipped into salty curls by her dive and the breeze. She’d shoved her wet suit down to her waist and he couldn’t help but notice her breasts in her bikini top. Two small pink triangles of fabric cupped her curves.
“You wish,” she said.
“You could try agreeing with me,” he pointed out. “In fact, you could just try listening. I’m not the bad guy in this picture. I want to give a good demo every bit as much as you do.”
Or more. Honestly, he had no idea what to say to her. The five feet separating them on deck might as well have been a million miles. Bridging the distance was impossible.
She sat cross-legged on the seat, arm extended along the gunwale as her body melted into the up and down of the boat. “How are we going to make this work?”
He had no idea.
Bending over, he popped the top on the cooler by his feet and tossed her a bottle of cold water. “We have to put together a program of two dives. We’ll use one of yours and then I’ll pick a second site.”
“We’ll pick the second site together,” she said firmly.
Her definition of partner was closer to dictator. “You picked Rose Wall.”
“You don’t like the site?”
“It’s easy,” he countered. “We take uncertified divers out there all the time. There’s no challenge to it.”
“A dive doesn’t have to be hard to be worthwhile.”
For the next fifteen minutes, they bickered amicably, until the marina came into view. The arguing kept his mind off the dive he hadn’t made. Good.
As he pulled into the slip, she hopped out onto the dock and helped him tie off. He wanted to say something, but he was out of words. Piper was confident and sure as she went about the business of docking, so even that topic of conversation was out. He turned the boat off and grabbed her gear. She was already padding down the dock to the dunk tank, pushing the damp wet suit down her thighs with a wriggle.
And...wow. The wet suit hit the ground and her pink bikini had his body heating right up. When she bent over and swiped up the wet suit, his blood pressure soared. How did she manage to get under his skin without even trying?
He contemplated that while he rinsed her booties and fins in the freshwater tank at the end of the dock. Beside him, her arm brushing his, she dunked the wet suit.
“Where’s Carla?”
She snorted. “Probably closing up the dive shop or giving us space to kill each other.”
“Death or permanent injury would make a joint demo hard.”
“We fight,” she stated matter-of-factly.
True. “We could try not fighting,” he suggested.
“Yeah. And you could try not giving orders.”
“Your shoes are on your boat,” he pointed out.
“I’m tough. Walking barefoot isn’t going to kill me.”
“Uh-huh.” She’d say the same thing if she were strolling over hot coals. “Humor me.”
“Because it’s safer?” There was no missing the gentle tease in her voice.
There was nothing wrong with wanting to keep her from harm. “You want a piggyback instead? You’re going to burn your feet on the dock.” It was shocking how hot a nail baking in the summer sun could get.
Her eyes narrowed. “The boards can’t be that hot, and I weigh a lot more than I did when I was eight.”
He plucked her gear out of the rinse tank and folded it neatly into his dunk bag. He pulled on his own T-shirt.
“And that’s a good thing.”
Her disgruntled huff had him smiling. “Sometimes, honesty isn’t your best policy, Cal.”
She looked great. He pulled a pair of flip-flops out of his bag and tossed them to her. “Your other choice is to use these.”
“News flash. Our feet are not the same size.”
“Put them on.”
“Right.” She gave an exasperated sigh but shoved her feet into the flip-flops. He had big feet. She didn’t. She also sported a topcoat of bright green nail polish his own feet were missing. Then—yep—four steps in, he heard the moment she kicked the shoes off.
“Busted,” he said, stopping. “Choose. Shoes or a lift.”
“I’m fine. I’m not going to burn.”
He gave her The Look when she picked up her pace. Sure enough, her feet were burning, and they still had a ways to go. “A or B. It’s simple, Piper.”
“You’re truly volunteering to haul my butt from here to my dive shop?”
He considered her question for a moment. “To the boardwalk, yeah. And across the road. I promise not to bite unless you ask me to.”
She stopped dead, propping her hands on her hips, legs apart. Experience had taught him that Piper didn’t like ultimatums of any sort.
“I think I can handle you,” he said.
And...match to the gasoline. She pointed a finger at the dock. “Fine. Bend down. Squat. Do something to close the distance between us unless you want me to scale you like a monkey on a tree.”
It figured certain more southern parts interpreted her words as an invitation. He dropped to one knee. “Climb away.”
She twined her arms around his neck, her bare arm brushing his throat. Her position plastered her breasts against his back, the only things between them his cotton T-shirt and her bikini. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and he stopped thinking.
Just for a moment because...
He stood up, trying to ignore his new view of a pair of long, muscled legs. Piper’s legs were bare and sun-kissed, only the ridges of scars on her right knee white. And the sweet, hot heat he felt against the small of his back? Don’t think about it. Piper’s swimsuit drove him crazy. It needed more fabric. Or iron plating.
“Mush,” she whispered in his ear.
* * *
STUPID. PIPER HAD sworn not to let Cal push her buttons again. And yet here she was, the soles of her feet burning as she bounced up and down on his back like she was four years old or he was the very best kind of pony ride. He’d dared her and she’d caved, when she could have made a mad dash for the end of the dock and a shady spot. Her arm brushed his neck, and she realized the man had soft places, after all.
Two minutes to the end of the dock. Another minute to cross the boardwalk and reach her shop, at which point he unceremoniously dumped her down his back. Piper had no idea three minutes could last so long or that it was even possible to provoke Cal into being less than a gentleman.
Carla looked up from where she was checking gear when Piper ducked inside. “Please tell me you have plans for our resident SEAL?”
Nipping into the backroom, Piper grabbed the clothes she’d left behind. Hanging around Cal in a bikini wasn’t her best bet.
“What kind of plans?” she hollered back, shimmying out of the bikini. Panties were a good start, plus it was wear-your-favorite-bra-to-work day, a padded number designed to give her the cleavage God had denied her. Blue jeans, a tank top and her steel-toed boots. That had to be enough armor to keep Cal at bay. Just in case, she shrugged on her flannel shirt because gravel sometimes kicked up on the road.
“Sexy plans,” Carla bellowed. They really needed to discuss the concept of an inside voice. The odds of Cal having not heard Carla’s repartee seemed distinctly low.
She grabbed her tote bag and shoved the wet bikini inside. “I haven’t decided.”
Liar, her lady parts screamed. You know exactly what you want to do to him.
“I could make you a list.” Carla moved toward the windows when Piper stepped back into the front room. “Starting with, strip him down. Although I’d leave the dog tags. I love those on my man.”
“We’re competing for the same business contract.” Darn it. Her voice got all soft and husky on the last words.
“You also had a bet,” Carla pointed out. “And he lost.”
“So did I.” As much as it galled her.
“Take advantage of him.” Carla shoved her toward the door. “When’s the last time you had fun?”
Carla’s definition of fun was dangerous, and Piper knew she was wavering. And was lost when Carla popped open the door and leaned out. “Are you as good as you look?”
Cal raised a brow. “I plead the Fifth.”
“Right.” Carla avoided Piper’s attempt to smack her. “Because I promise you that Piper here is.”
Cal raised a brow, all masculine amusement. Yep. He knew what Carla was up to.
“Okay.” Something inside her broke. Hot and wicked and...right. She strode toward her bike. “Get on.”
She gestured toward her Harley. The low-slung orange-and-chrome bike with its powerful engine was her baby. She didn’t let just anyone ride with her. She hoped he appreciated the invitation.
“Where are we going?” He didn’t move, his feet still planted on her sidewalk. Carla smirked and retreated inside the dive shop. Wise woman.
“My house. We’ll do it there. If my bike is in front of your house overnight, your mother is bound to drive by and notice.”
“It?” He grinned but looked slightly dazed. She wasn’t ceding home-court advantage to Cal. Plus, his mother would have them engaged before breakfast. Not that she was planning on sticking around until breakfast.
“You owe me one night. I plan to collect.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We both lost.”
“Ladies first,” she reminded him and tossed him her spare helmet. He caught it by reflex.
Throwing a leg over the bike, she patted the seat behind her. “Get on.”
He came over and then paused Yep. Cal was thinking instead of jumping. “Just so I’m clear, what exactly are we doing here?”
“We’re having sex.” She flipped the key in the Harley’s ignition and reached for her own helmet.
Cal swung onto the seat behind her, caging her between his arms. “And we’re doing this because...?”
“To get it out of our systems. And because you lost a bet.” She gunned the motor and he groaned.
“Hold on.”
“I plan to.”
* * *
CAL WRAPPED HIS arms around Piper’s middle. Possibly, he held on a little tighter than necessary. While he considered his less-than-gentlemanly impulse, he tucked his head beside hers, resting his chin on her shoulder. The position gave him a prime view down the front of her shirt and of the black bra with strips of blue lace. The cups pushed her breasts up and he could imagine all sorts of things he’d like to do to her bra, starting with getting her out of it.
Piper’s family owned a ramshackle cabin on the water’s edge. Fewer than ten minutes after they’d left town, Piper veered off the main road and took them down a gravel driveway, which spit rocks when Piper took the final stretch too fast. She parked hard, killed the engine and slid off the bike.
“Home sweet home.”
He tried to remember how long it had been since he’d last stopped by the Clark place. The roof was missing a few more shingles, and the paint had long since peeled off. The yard, however, still sported the same mismatched collection of Adirondack chairs, piled with colorful cushions and surrounded by half-melted tea lights in jars. A bug zapper connected to the house by a frayed electrical cord did its thing overhead. Jesus. She was going to cause a fire.
Of course, it wouldn’t be the first fire the Clark place had witnessed. In addition to the tamer pursuits of bonfire building and marshmallow roasting (safely down on the beach with a few cubic tons of water on hand), Piper and her brothers had built signal fires in the barbecue after reading a book about Lewis and Clark. They’d also experimented with setting leaves on fire with a magnifying glass, fished birds’ nests out of the cottage’s stopped-up chimney and practiced their long jump over the fire Piper’s dad had built to burn the fallen leaves. Good times. It was a miracle any of them had survived.
“Come on.” She strode away from the bike, without waiting for him, and made for the door.
He didn’t like following like a puppy on a leash. He also didn’t know why he was here. He half expected her to turn around, yell “Gotcha,” and send him on his way. Since there was no figuring Piper out, he settled for watching her very fine ass lead the way. The worn denim cupped her in all the right places, and so, yeah, maybe he knew exactly why he was here. He and Piper were oil and water, but they had chemistry.
When she flicked open the screen door without so much as a pause, however, he was back to seeing red. “You didn’t lock the door?”
“It’s Discovery Island. We’re not a hotbed of urban crime.” Piper moved inside, tossing her keys onto the side table and dropping her messenger bag on the floor. Great. Any passing moron could rob her blind just by opening the door and reaching down.
Her place still looked pretty much the same. Slipcovered sofas flanked the stone fireplace, and stacks of books and oil paintings covered every available inch of wall space. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave way to a view of the ocean, and he walked over to them. The dock stretched out into the water, and she had a small slice of beach all to herself. Roses, blue morning glory and wisteria covered every inch of the front porch. If she hadn’t reinforced the roof, she’d need to soon.
“So.” Piper paused, and for the first time he spied a hint of uncertainty, quickly banished, on her face. He leaned against the wall and waited for her to make the next move in this game they were playing. This was going to be good.
“Where do you want me?” he asked agreeably.
The sun was setting now, lighting up the ocean with color, but the light inside Piper’s house was soft and golden. She picked up a sofa cushion and dropped it, sending motes of dust dancing in the sunshine. Her housekeeping skills hadn’t improved any over the years.
Piper cursed and he held back a grin. She wasn’t getting out of this one with a witty comeback. She’d started something she didn’t want to finish and, yeah, watching her squirm was fun. He’d tease a little bit more—because this was Piper—and then he’d call Daeg and head back to his own place. He might not have been in the cottage in years, but some things stayed the same. He headed for the hallway.
“Bedroom’s down here, right?”
“I need a beer,” she said behind him. “Or a margarita.”
The grin was unstoppable this time, but he had his back to her and she couldn’t see.
Finding her bedroom wasn’t hard to do. The cottage had only three bedrooms and, when he opened the doors, two of them were clearly unused. Plus, she’d chosen the room he’d have picked, the one where he could see the ocean from the bed. Piper had left her mark in here, too. The bed had enough height to reenact the Princess and the Pea. Plus, the surface was buried beneath a mountain of useless little throw pillows. Huh. Not what he would have imagined. He cleared a spot and lay down on the bed, legs stretched in front of him and crossed.
The sound of a blender echoed down the hallway. Apparently, Piper had meant one thing tonight. It was margarita time.
“You want me naked?” he hollered.
She ignored him, so he removed his boots and set them on the floor where he could grab them if he had to make a quick retreat. He also texted Daeg and asked him to bring his truck out here. The SEALs had taught him it was always wise to establish an escape route early on.
Daeg was on it, too. Sure thing. Do I need to alert the cops now?
Right. Cal texted back: Ha ha.
Then, because Piper was taking her own sweet time getting back to him, he sent a couple of texts about the rescue dive program he’d put together.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
Piper slouched in the doorway. She’d made one margarita. Apparently, he didn’t merit a drink. Just sex. He patted the bed beside him.
“You coming over here?”
She glared, but she also looked tempted. He hadn’t expected that. She took an angry swallow of her drink, and he had no idea what was running through her head. It must have been good, though, because her cheeks turned pink.
“You owe me a night.” She took another drink.
“If you want.” To his surprise, he meant it. What had started out as a joke and a dare was...something more?
She came over to the bed and he fought the urge to reach up and pull her down into his arms. She hadn’t turned and run down the hallway, which was something, but he didn’t know how far she really wanted this to go. So he took the margarita glass from her and took a drink. And shuddered. Piper didn’t make margaritas any better than she compromised. The drink was sickly sweet, the tequila a distant afterthought. At least he’d be fine to drive.
She snatched the glass back from him, eyeing the drink level. Which was too bad. She should have brought enough to share.
“I should put tonight to good use.” The smile lighting up her face was pure mischief. “How do you feel about bondage?”
Bondage wasn’t something he’d ever been interested in experiencing firsthand. “If you tie me up, I’ll tie you up.”
Her eyes darkened and he sucked in a breath. She was thinking about it—and she was turned on.
“Piper,” he crooned. He plucked the glass out of her hand and set it on the bedside table.
“I don’t like you.” She leaned forward.
The feeling was mutual. She was impetuous with an unforgivable side of rude. Plus, she’d insist on being in charge of any relationship she had, and he’d never let anyone—male or female—dominate him, in bed or out.
“Got it.” When he leaned forward to meet her halfway, their foreheads touched and he caught a whiff of salt and tequila and something else. Something all Piper.
“You owe me,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself.
“A bet’s a bet,” he agreed. Besides, if she got tonight, then he’d get another night. His pulse picked up as he thought about the possibility.
“So we’ll just get each other out of our systems,” she said, nodding like they’d both agreed to something.
“Piper?” He whispered her name against her mouth.
“Yeah?” Her tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.
“Shut up.”
He kissed her because he suddenly needed to, and he had no idea why. He’d never planned on kissing Piper, but her eyes said she might be thinking the same things he was, and heat shot through him at just the possibility. Her fingers curled in his T-shirt, tugging him closer, so he slid his hands along her neck, threading his fingers through her flyaway curls to hold her nearer still. He kissed her and she kissed him back, her mouth softening. Opening up to let him inside. Her breath came in little catches and he was pretty sure the rough groan he heard was his own. His brain had her name on a desperate soundtrack of Piper Piper Piper.
Her fingers discovered the hem of his shirt and tugged. Perfectly willing to help her out, he broke off their kiss long enough to help her draw his T-shirt over his head. She tossed it somewhere, wriggling out of her own shorts, and then ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Perfect. He found her mouth again or she found his. He wasn’t sure which, but it didn’t matter. They were kissing each other again, long, slow, hot kisses. Her tongue swept into his mouth, taking charge, and he wanted to grin. And thump his chest. Roar out his pleasure. Any or all of the above.
Instead, he slid a thumb beneath the strap of her tank top, nudging the narrow strip down her shoulder. Taking the hint, she shimmied her arms out. He had to open his eyes. Her bra had teased him the whole way here, and, yeah...Piper had fabulous taste in lingerie. The satin cups were edged with something lacy and perfectly, wonderfully naughty.
“You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely.
“More kissing,” she demanded, uninterested in his opinions.
Kissing he could do. He swept his hands up and cupped her breasts through the soft fabric, rubbing a thumb over the plump curves as he gave her what she’d asked for. More kissing, more touching.
The familiar sound of trucks pulling into the driveway had him breaking off. Shit. Daeg might as well have marched a mariachi band down the driveway. Cal pulled back with a groan, resting his forehead against hers.
“This is why locking the door is a good thing.”
The hard rap on her front door was followed by a brief pause. Cal could practically hear Daeg running the pros and cons of opening it. In a community as neighborly and tightly knit as this one, that was what you did. You knocked—and then you came in.
“You called in the cavalry?” Piper sat back. Her hair was drying into wayward corkscrews. Margarita making had apparently trumped finding a hairbrush. She looked sexy and mussed and the last thing he wanted to hear was Daeg’s repeat knock.
He sat up and her hands fell away. “I figured you’d want me gone at some point, and I didn’t want to walk.”
Right. Because they both knew it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility she might kick him out and make him hike the five miles back to town. In the dark.
“Would I do that to you?”
He looked at her. “I’m not sure. But we haven’t always gotten along.”
“Because you were bossy.”
“You were reckless.”
She made a show of looking down at her exposed bra. Daeg pounded again and called something. “Case in point?”
“Maybe.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and settled back. “As long as we’re clear.”
He didn’t know if her words were his cue to leave or not, but he swung his legs over the side of the bed and went to collect his keys.
* * *
PIPER’S WEEK HAD, frankly, sucked. Del planned on selling the dive shop out from under her. She hadn’t gotten the Fiesta contract. Yet. She hadn’t gotten the contract yet. Nothing was going the way she’d planned and, really, that had been the case since the man who’d been lying on her bed had pulled her out of the water five years ago.
The murmur of voices reached her from the front door. Then the door shut. She’d bet ten bucks Cal had locked it. Outside, a truck started up and drove off. She heard just the one engine, though, and wondered if Cal had decided to stay. Sure enough, he reappeared in the door of her bedroom.
“Daeg and Tag say hi,” he said.
She flopped back onto the bed. “This is all your fault.”
“Everything?” he asked, coming over.
Yes. No. She wasn’t angry, more...at sea. She always had a plan and it always was a good one. Her plans worked out. Cal wasn’t part of the plan. “You bet.”
He leaned against the door frame and opened his arms wide. “You’re in charge. I’m at your beck and call.”
His small, lopsided grin had her wondering if he’d read her mind. That could be useful—or embarrassing.
Those three words—you’re in charge—were the magic words she’d been waiting for, however. For no good reason, she wanted this man. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Time to take action. Her hair was salty and tangled from a day in and on the water. She liked the way her hair curled after a dive, but she also had salt on her skin and in places she very much hoped Cal would be touching. Kissing.
He straightened up. “Are you leaving?”
One point for her.
“I want a shower.” She paused just long enough to motion toward her margarita and then headed for the bathroom door, shooting him a naughty grin. He definitely brought out her inner bad girl. “Bring my drink.”
“Is that an order?” His rough question had her pulse speeding up.
She smiled.
“Absolutely, beck-and-call boy.”
She stepped into the bathroom, achingly aware of the man following her. She might have only one night—two more, her libido reminded her, but only one where she definitely got to be in charge—so she’d make every minute count. Her bathroom was the first room she’d remodeled in the cottage, because she loved baths. She’d scoured antiques shows in Marin County until she’d found the perfect piece, bribing one of her brothers to drag the heavy white claw-foot tub back to Discovery Island. It was big enough for two, but she’d also installed a rain shower.
She’d put every spare dime and hour she had into this room because it was her happy place, her refuge. From the slate tiles in soothing gray to the tub by the window, looking out over the beach, she’d built out her fantasies. Part of her wondered what Cal would think.
Part of her didn’t care.
He was hers.
Temporarily, fantastically all hers.
She reached into the shower and hit the water before grabbing a stack of towels from the shelf. Rose-colored towels.
Pink.
“Pink? Really?”
She flashed him a grin. “Be glad I don’t make you pose for a photo.”
She turned and leaned against the sink. The white pedestal was a Victorian antique she’d scored for a song and refinished, the china cool and slick beneath her fingertips. How far would he let her push him?
He closed the door. Wow. She’d been close to Cal before—he’d ridden behind her on the way to her place—but this was different. This time, they both knew they were going to get naked and act out their secret fantasies. She’d known Cal for years, but the heat blasting through her was as unfamiliar as it was luscious.
“Strip,” she said.
“Now I’m definitely hearing an order.” His voice sounded rough and husky.
“Make it good,” she suggested.
He didn’t hold back any, either. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
His eyes met hers, waiting for her to take charge.
No problem. She traced a finger down his thigh, feeling the hard muscle there. “Take it all off.”
“You want to help?”
She thought about his question for a moment.
When she hesitated—too many choices—he made the decision for her. His fingers grasped the hem of his T-shirt and slowly pulled the cotton up, revealing the chiseled lines of his abdomen.
“Closer,” she ordered throatily. She could look and touch. Not a problem.
He stepped toward her, until his feet brushed hers, and then sucked in a breath when she ran her fingers over the exposed skin.
“Perfect,” she said as he yanked the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.
Then he paused. “Should I stop? Or call you mistress?”
The thick ridge beneath the buttons of his jeans was promising, too, and also all hers for tonight.
“Not unless you have a death wish.” Sometimes, a woman had to be honest.
“Piper.” Her name was half groan, half curse. She thanked the powers above that she got to him the way he got to her. “I’m pretty sure you’re driving me crazy.”
“I always do.” She traced the waistband of his jeans and, hello, someone was definitely happy to see her. Cal bumped against her hand. She reached for the first button and popped it free.
“True.”
“I’m just planning on doing it a little differently tonight.”
“Piper.” There was her name again. She wiggled her fingers, just a little, more because he felt good and she couldn’t help but be aware of him beneath her palm. “We don’t have to do this. The bet was a joke, not a legally binding contract.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”
He braced his arms on either side of her on the sink, somehow managing to make her feel both secure and looked after. Those were new sensations for her, because she always took care of herself. Cal, on the other hand, looked after everyone. He made sure his friends and family—hell, the whole island—were safe and had what they needed. Apparently, he’d decided to include her in that number. She didn’t want pity sex but something else entirely. And, she’d admit it, she hadn’t misplaced her competitive spirit like she intended on misplacing her clothes.
If she was having sex with Cal, she was going to be the best he’d ever had.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said, but his voice sounded husky. Sexy, and the tug she felt was something else unexpected. Since when had she found Cal attractive?
Since always, the little voice in her head chimed in.
“So, you do want me?” She moved her fingers and discovered she could stroke the very tip of him. She slid her fingertips in a small circle, and he sucked in a breath. The tiny inhalation was a definite yes, right there.
“We don’t like each other.” He sounded a little desperate, so she popped a second button, giving herself more room to work with. More Cal.
“Nope. We drive each other crazy.” He was dead right.
It also wasn’t fair how gorgeous he was. To compensate, she unbuttoned his third button.
“But we did have a bet,” she said. “And I’ve never known you to renege on a bet.”
“I’m a man of my word.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she’d never been so grateful for a bet before. This wasn’t about winning or losing but about a chance to explore Cal. She had him for one wicked night—and then, because fair was fair and they’d both won or they’d both lost, depending on how you looked at it—she’d be his.
She could hardly wait.
“Off,” she ordered and he gave her what she wanted.
He slid a finger beneath the last button on his jeans—there was nothing sexier than a man in button-up jeans, where she could slide the tips of her fingers between the gaps, stroke him where he was hot and hard—until it gave. Cal was commando. And lip-lickingly gorgeous.
His dark eyes watched her, but she discovered, his control was an illusion. When she touched him, he made a rough sound of pleasure, which only encouraged her to do it again. And again. She loved the way the groan slipped out. She wrapped a palm around him, literally holding Cal in the palm of her hand. He might not like her, but he definitely wanted her, and she could work with desire. He wasn’t moving fast enough, though, so she tapped his hip, the little smack loud in the room. “Pick up the pace, Brennan.”
He grinned at her as he shoved his jeans down his legs, and his crooked half smile went all the way to his eyes. This close to him, she could make out the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. Huh. Maybe Cal had a bad boy in him, after all. Or she’d been too busy pushing his buttons to take a really good look. Or undoing his buttons.
“I’m all yours. Do your best,” he said.
His rough gasps and muttered curses were a power rush but also something more. She wasn’t thinking about the something more tonight, so she pushed those thoughts away. Instead, she scraped the nails of her free hand lightly over his stomach, enjoying the way the muscles there—and Cal had more than his fair share of muscles—jumped. He liked this, too. A lot.
With her other hand, she stroked the length of him as she cupped him. He groaned, something incoherent, half prayer and half her name. Lucky him—she’d barely gotten started. She leaned forward.
* * *
PIPER WAS A take-charge woman. Cal had discovered that indisputable fact when he was ten and nothing had changed in the twenty years since. What had changed was how much he liked it. Liked her.
Her mouth surrounded him, hot wet perfection that made parts of him howl with pleasure. The strangest thing, though, was that this was Piper. While he was no angel, he usually insisted on having some kind of relationship with a woman before they went to bed together. He hadn’t been holding out for a ring and happily ever after, but he hadn’t been into the casual hookup and bar scene, either. Nor did he think Piper was. Island gossip being what it was, he’d have heard if she’d made a practice of casual hookups.
Piper’s bathroom was getting dark, and he wished he’d thought to flip on a light when he’d made the return trip from her front door. He wanted to see her face as she made love to him. Had sex with him. Or maybe both, if he was lucky. He didn’t know what this was, but the way she made him feel was out-of-this-world good and like nothing he’d felt before.
Her mouth covered him, sinking down. His hips rose up to meet her, and he was putty in her hands. He could imagine the wicked gleam in her eyes if she knew. Which she had to, because he was making all sorts of noises. He skimmed his hands over her shoulders, her throat, tangling his fingers in her curls. At some point, she’d lost her tie and her hair was spread all over him. Another thing he liked too much.
“Come up here so I can kiss you.” The growly demand was back in his voice.
“You lost a bet, Cal.” Her fingers did something positively wicked to him at the same time. “Tonight’s mine and I’m in charge.”
She lifted her mouth off him just enough to get the words out. Each word was a hot whisper over his skin. Nope. He wouldn’t be lasting long tonight, and his imminent loss of control was only partly due (very, very partly due) to the fact he hadn’t had sex in months.
Losing, however, didn’t seem like such a bad thing when she put it that way.
Just to prove his point, she licked her way up the length of him.
“Please?” The word sounded needier than he liked, but it worked.
Piper paused. Her fingers squeezed him deliciously, briefly, and then she slid up his body. Her parts fit against his as she leaned in to kiss him.
His own hands got busy, stripping off her shirt and cupping her breasts, skimming the curves until he found the clasp in front. One quick flick, and she was shrugging out of the bra he’d admired so much. Her lingerie was still pretty, he decided—it was just that she was so much prettier. His eyes were getting used to the dark. Piper was all soft shadows and dark curves, but his imagination hadn’t done her justice or considered the possibility of her intriguing tan lines and the paler places where her bikini had covered her up. Barely.
Right now, though, he was focused on baring her.
She liked what he was doing, too. She stilled for a moment before melting into his touch. The fierce relief sweeping through him was almost as shocking as the fact that they were here. Getting naked together. He didn’t think Piper would go this far just to prove a point, but he’d never known with Piper. She was a leap-first, think-later kind of gal. Tonight, though, she was warm and willing, arching into his touch with a rough noise of pleasure. He wondered if he could make her scream. Or beg. Either one worked for him. Maybe both, if he were a very lucky man.
She kissed him harder and more fiercely, moving their kiss into new territory. This was no gentle meeting of their mouths but more like she’d decided to devour him, her tongue sweeping inside his mouth and taking what she wanted. He gladly opened for her.
He ran his hand down her back, tracing the straight arrow of her spine until he was cupping her butt through the silk of her panties. Since she wasn’t letting go of his mouth, he wasn’t asking for permission. Fair was fair.
Her thighs held his hips in a vise, and her mouth grew more frantic as she kissed him. He wanted to kiss her for hours, and yet at the same time, he wanted all of her right now. He pressed up into her sweet heat and about lost his mind. Since he wanted her lost with him, he moved his hand lower, curving his fingers inward to stroke her through her panties.
* * *
“IF YOU LIKE these panties, take them off.” Cal’s growly voice in her ear stoked the heat building inside Piper higher. Her SEAL definitely meant business, and his demand only worked her up more. She’d never been one for orders, but this was one command she could work with.
Not waiting for an answer, he hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and tugged. Okay, then.
She obligingly shimmied out of them—they were her favorites, after all, and there was no point in sacrificing them to hot sex if she could save them—and the scrap disappeared somewhere in the direction of her bedroom, leaving her naked in front of Cal. She wasn’t so sure she was in charge anymore, but...it was okay. Scratch that. More than okay—more like downright fantastic.
“Shower time,” he said roughly.
Right. Shower.
“I don’t care.” She didn’t care anymore about concealing the truth. All she wanted was Cal and her bed, the two sounding like the perfect combination.
“Shh.” His mouth brushed hers and then he scooped her up with one arm and headed for the shower, which was fortunately more than big enough for two. The hot water had steamed up the bathroom, blurring the edges. He set her on her feet on the water-warmed tiles and then stepped in, six-plus feet of hot, wet male she couldn’t wait to hold. Even in the semidarkness, he was gorgeous, and when he held out a hand, it seemed natural to take it. His fingers curled around hers, pulling her into the stream of hot water. Nothing had prepared her for the heat, for the need burning through her.
She should have lit candles or had one of those aromatherapy-dispenser things puffing sweet stuff out into the air. Cal didn’t seem to mind the lack in the romance department. He pulled her in close, her thighs brushing his, her breasts pressed against his chest. Heaven.
There was enough steam in the room to make things fuzzy, like the best kind of dream. Plus, this close, she felt every inch of him, including the inches she’d just enjoyed. Cal held on to her until there was no missing how much he was relishing this shower of theirs.
And she’d barely gotten started.
She reached for him, but he spun her gently around and placed her hands on the tiled wall.
“You touch me now, and this shower’s going to be over before it gets started,” he growled.
“You have a problem with that?” Suddenly, soap and hot water didn’t sound anywhere near as good as having her way with Cal and the impressive erection he was sporting. She slipped a hand behind her, reaching for him again.
He grunted, half amused, half impatient, then reached around her for the shampoo. “Behave.”
“Overrated,” she said, palming him.
“Good thing I don’t mind misbehaving with you some.” His rough whisper echoed in her ear. Then his big fingers were massaging the shampoo through her hair. He was good. Or bad. She gave up trying to figure it out, just let herself sink into the sensual press of his fingers against her head as he worked the lather for long, dreamy minutes. She had no idea a shampoo could be so sensual. His nails scratched erotically across her scalp, sending small shivers down her spine.
He didn’t stop there, either. When her hair was clean, he started in with the washcloth. The soft rain fell around them, comforting and soothing, until she was all but boneless. The cloth traveled over her shoulders, down her arms. He bathed her with the same thoroughness with which he approached everything. Her back and her butt. Her front.
Oh, yes, please.
He ran the soapy cloth down her breasts. Once. Then again when she pushed her breasts into his hand in silent demand. Her nipples were deliciously sensitive, tightening into greedy nubs as he traced a wicked circle around the straining tips.
Needing more, she arched back into him. “Cal—”
“You bet,” he answered roughly.
“Let’s—” She didn’t finish her sentence or even her thought. The cloth dipped lower, moving down past her stomach to her core.
“Let’s let me take care of you, okay?” His ragged breathing promised he was right there with her, and letting Cal have his way didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.
“Right now,” she demanded.
And he did.
He touched her intimately with the cloth, nothing but four-hundred-count Egyptian cotton between his fingers and her flesh. The rough friction of the material was even better than bare skin, letting her prolong the sweet, steady ache. She was close, her body tightening, bearing down on him.
“Tease,” she muttered.
“I’m not teasing.”
When, long minutes later, he reached to turn off the water, she scrambled to get out first because there was something too devastatingly sensual about Cal looking after her. The truth was he overwhelmed her. Fantastically, wonderfully so, but she was losing control of her body in a way she never did. She wrapped a rose-colored—pink—towel around her and padded into the bedroom, leaving him to follow her.
* * *
PIPER WAS STILL determined to be in charge, to be the one giving the orders. Sexy, yes. Cal loved the way she knew what she liked and how her sensuality didn’t embarrass her. Piper was as all out in bed as she was diving. Or living. Piper didn’t hold back. But he wanted something more from her.
He wanted her to trust him.
He followed her into the bedroom, turning different options over in his head.
“Do you trust me?” This night was for her, but for some things, he wanted permission.
She had to think about her answer, which wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for. “Piper—”
He knew she didn’t want a discussion or a conversation. She wanted hot, meaningless sex. With him, though, which apparently meant what they did in her bed wasn’t going to be meaningless. Not for him.
Her knees hit the edge of the mattress. “Yes.”
“Yes, you trust me?”
“You want a notarized document?” she growled back. “Because I can absolutely get up and get one for you, right now.”
He couldn’t stop the smile from flashing across his face. “Remember, you offered.”
She’d been warned.
* * *
CAL TURNED AWAY from the bed and if he wasn’t looking for a condom, she’d kill him.
“Top drawer,” she said. “On the left-hand side. There are condoms.”
He made a rough sound, half protest, half amused. So, yeah, she liked being in charge. She knew what she liked, too. He’d have to deal with it.
He came back, though, setting a foil packet by the side of the bed. That wasn’t all he had. He also had a handful of her sarongs. The thin strips of mesh fabric tied over her hips and hinted at the bikini bottom beneath. She had no idea what kind of fashion statement he intended to make.
“Modest much?”
He gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret.
“I’m going to tie you up.”
A statement of intent, her brain noted through the lightning bolt of heat torching her body. Not a question at all.
“Any questions?” he asked roughly. “Objections?”
She should object. She really, really should but...he’d made her think about it. About how it would feel to be at Cal’s sensual mercy, her body his to touch. Instead of protesting, she shook her head.
“Good.”
He made quick work of tying her up, carefully fastening her wrists to the headboard. Just her wrists, and not so tight she couldn’t get free if she needed to, but tight enough to remind her she wasn’t going anywhere easily.
“Now you’re all mine.” The look in his eyes got her going. She’d wanted to take him, to take advantage of being the one in charge, but he’d turned the tables on her...and she loved it. Arousal shot through her. She’d never been the kind of woman who needed or wanted a man to take charge, but this was...wicked sexy.
He ran a finger over her stomach and the muscles there fluttered nervously, as though she had a thousand highly aroused and nervous butterflies flapping around in there. Being tied up, even as a game, made her feel vulnerable. Which was something she didn’t do. Of course, Cal didn’t like opening up, either, which made them a good match on some levels. Now, however, she couldn’t do anything but wait. And anticipate, her brain on overload suggesting possible fantasies.
Too late, she thought of a question. “Do I get to tie you up on your night?”
One night was definitely not going to be enough.
“I should gag you,” he said tenderly, brushing his fingers over her mouth. “You look beautiful.”
Heat curled through her as he touched her intimately.
Perfect.
“Kiss me some more,” she demanded as his fingers did something positively wicked and she clenched deep inside. His hand urged her leg up around his hip, another good idea she decided with a breathy moan.
Like always, he didn’t hesitate. He decided—and then he did. “Absolutely.”
Like her words were some kind of permission he’d been waiting for, he took charge, lifting her effortlessly as he moved down the bed. She squeaked. To her eternal mortification, she made an inelegant, embarrassed sound of surprise.
“Cal—”
“Shh. My turn.” She felt his rough whisper against her core. Her very bare, very exposed core. He kissed her and then she completely lost it. He had her whimpering and groaning, and there might have been begging involved, although she’d deny it if asked. His big hands on her hips kept her right where he wanted her, his fingers dipping in to tease and part her. And his mouth...she lit up like a forest fire from the heat and pleasure.
“Cal—” She squeaked his name out, and her reward was a very male sound of appreciation. He kissed her some more, clearly in no rush, as deliberate and thorough about this as he was about everything. If she’d known he was this good, she’d have jumped him sooner, she thought, dazed.
“Now it’s your turn,” he said against her, and the hot whisper of his words right there, where she was tight and slick, sent her over the edge in a rush. She came shockingly fast, rocking against him.
There was a rustle as he untied her and conjured up the condom. Yes.
“May I?” he asked, and there was no holding back the smile splitting her face.
“My pleasure,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist. He’d won the first round, but... She grinned and pushed, until he rolled over so she straddled him. Threading her fingers through his, she pinned his hands over his head. “You cheated.”
“You’re complaining?” She gripped his hips with her knees and sank slowly down.
“Absolutely not.” He groaned out the words.
She loved his body, she decided. He was all hard, tempting muscles and ridges in all sorts of delicious places. She couldn’t wait to explore him, so she sank down a little farther.
“Just making my point.” She leaned forward and nipped his ear.
The touch was his tipping point, because he bit out a curse and surged upward. “Piper—”
There. She wriggled and took the last inch of him. “Now it’s my turn.”
She began to move and, nope, he didn’t have any complaints. Even when it was her turn for a very, very long time.