Sinful Intentions

by Amy Redwood

  Trent turned round, the leash dangling in his hand.

  She swallowed as images from the previous night slammed into her head with dazing intensity. But it was just a dream, she thought, feeling very comfortable about lying to herself. His dark gaze wandered over her, but she had nowhere to escape.

  Don’t you dare mention last night.

  He wouldn’t, she remembered. He’d promised.

  And she had to get Lucky back. Slowly, she resumed walking, concentrating on the sand under her feet and stopped in front of him.

  “Give me the leash.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He turned to address the group of kids behind him. “Game’s over, see you all next week.”

  “Uuuh, look everyone.” A young girl shrieked with laughter, threw a ball at Trent. “The coach has a girlfriend!”

  He caught the ball with ease, threw it lightly back. “Shove off—all of you.” The bunch of kids, not quite teenagers, ran away, howling with laughter.

  “So, you’re a touch ball coach,” she said, taking in his sport shorts and faded t-shirt and his slightly sweaty complexion.

  “Ada is very involved in the community,” he said, working his hand through his short hair, “and she didn’t even bother asking if I wanted to contribute to the summer program for the local kids,” he finished with an air of disinterest she didn’t quite trust. She was sure he had enjoyed the game as much as the kids.

  “Well, you seem to have enough time on your hands,” she said, wondering again how he made his living.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, in a few weeks time, I’m back in the real world, but ’til then I enjoy summer.” He walked toward the surf where Lucky played in the water. She stared at his back and farther down to his long, muscled legs. Sand stuck at the back of his thighs.

  When she’d gotten up that morning, she’d spotted a red mark on the inside of her thigh. He’d sucked too hard at her flesh before he’d moved his mouth and tongue farther up.

  Last night, when he’d come back from the bathroom, she’d prayed he wouldn’t notice her tear-streaked face.

  He hadn’t.

  Instead, he’d gone down on her, sucking at her pussy until she’d climaxed against his licking tongue. Her flesh, sore and oversensitized, she’d started begging as he threw her legs over his shoulders, his thick cock pushing into her. He’d ignored her stammered demands for mercy and fucked her in deep thrusts. Her body surrendering to the onslaught, she’d screamed in blissful agony as he brought her to another orgasm.

  She doubted she’d survive another night like that.

  Or maybe she would, she thought, grinning.

  But his eyes, it was the strangest thing how they had—

  “Come on, you’re here for a walk, aren’t you?” He had stopped and looked over his shoulder. “It wasn’t Ada’s idea that you take the dog to the beach, or was it?”

  “Yes, she said she’s busy today, and I was happy to help her out.”

  “I see,” he said dryly.

  She closed the gap between them. “Would you mind giving me the leash back, I want to return with Lucky.” She tried to snatch the leash out of his hand, but he held tight.

  “Later.” He walked on and she followed, careful to keep some distance because she couldn’t handle him right then with her heart beating in her chest like mad.

  Walking along the surf, she watched seagulls diving in and out of the waves in their hunt for fish. Her shoulders relaxed and she enjoyed how the water licked at her ankles. She craned her neck to see seagulls flying high overhead and imagined soaring with them in the blue skies, floating in the wind and feeling free.

  Lucky ran back and forth, thoroughly enjoying himself in the water. She wished she could be just as carefree, living in the moment without a second thought.

  Step by step, she calmed down. She might as well test if she could handle polite small talk. She closed the distance between them and matched his fast pace.

  “So, what do you do in the real world?”

  “Ada hasn’t filled you in with my entire life yet? How unusual.”

  She could hear that he didn’t mean it harshly and waited for an answer. After a minute, it became clear that he was choosing to ignore her attempt to chat.

  Whatever.

  She wondered if he had forgotten about their argument over the house.

  Unlikely.

  She fell a few steps back again and splashed her feet through the shallow surf. This is fun. The cool seawater was bliss. She should have come to the beach earlier.

  She shot a look at him walking in front of her. Why did she allow him to get under her skin, why take him so seriously? She closed the gap between them again and shot him a glance. “Hey, McGregor, you up for a challenge?”

  “Always, Yankee.”

  For a few seconds she drowned in his dark, smiling eyes. She coolly observed how her body reacted to him, the chills on her back, the way her breasts pebbled. She looked away from his face, away from the curve of his mouth. How, how did he do it?

  “You see the dunes?” She pointed over his shoulder to a small stretch of sand dunes, scattered with grass and yellow flowers. When he nodded, she said, “Let’s race there, and if I win you have to answer me a question truthfully.”

  “No,” he said, looking at her thoughtfully.

  “Afraid to lose?” She splashed water until his legs were wet with salty drops.

  “I never lose.” He drew a start line in the soft sand. “On three, whenever you’re ready. And remember whose idea it was.”

  She counted to three, watching him out the corner of her eye. The moment he dashed forward, she put her leg in his way. She didn’t turn to watch him fall but heard him swearing in surprise.

  Grinning, she ran over the hot sand, not caring that the sharp shells hurt her feet. She ran as if all hell were behind her. Just a few yards separated her from the dunes when she heard him catching up, and with two long strides he overtook her.

  “First,” he breathed, and dropped down in the sand. “Have I already told you that I always win?”

  Damn, how can he be so fast? She arrived at the dunes a second after him. Panting, she dropped next to him on the sand, ignoring the seagulls above her, their screeching sounding too close to laughter. She had been absolutely sure she would outrun him with her maneuver.

  “We haven’t discussed yet what happens after I’ve won,” he said, and leaned back on his elbows, squinting up at her, his eyes two black slits. “Any ideas?”

  She felt her heart skip a beat and she turned away from his smug smile. So much for living in the moment. She must have had too much sun.

  His hand came around her shoulder, turned her back to him. He brushed his hand over her arm, and she held her breath. “Look at you. You’re covered in sand.”

  “I’m sure you can think of a question to ask me,” she said, knowing it was too late to run away.

  “A question? I wasn’t aware that was my only option.”

  When her arm was free of his hand again, she resumed breathing.

  “Sorry, at the moment I can’t think of any questions,” he said. “Can I save that for another time?” He brushed sand from his legs.

  “Sure.” Happy to change the subject, she watched his hands. He brushed over his calf and up his thigh, and she noticed a deep scrape on one of his knees. She really must have had too much sun, because a few seconds later the scrape was all but gone.

  She must have imagined it in the first place.

  Strange.

  He brushed sand from his arms and the tiny grains flew around the air, a few settling on her shoulder. She picked a grain up and rolled it between her fingers, still following the swiftness of his hands.

  Would he come to her again, tonight, and touch her with those hot hands until she was so wet, her cunt so drenched she hardly felt the friction when he entered her with his cock? “God yes,” she whispered as he leaned back on his elbows again, and she tore her ga
ze away from his fingers.

  She turned her head and looked straight into his eyes. She swore he had inched closer to where she sat. He returned her look with a lazy smile, and she dropped her gaze to his full bottom lip. The corners of his mouth curled into a wider smile, and blood rushed into her face. His lips had been between her legs last night, his tongue inside her, and just thinking about it made her so hot-damn aroused.

  His arm touched her shoulder. “I wonder what’s on your mind,” he said quietly, his breath tickling her ear.

  If she turned her head, his mouth would be very, very close. “I’m not telling,” she said, “unless you want to use the question you won.”

  “That would be a waste since I actually have a pretty good idea about what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  His voice was neutral, not teasing, but she still felt her stomach tighten with a sexual tension she didn’t care to feel right now. It didn’t make sense, and yet, here she was, dying to strip off her clothes and have him right here in the sand.

  She moved away, putting more distance between them. Why she still felt so shy around him she couldn’t say. Last night wasn’t exactly the first time they’d fucked. Why, why did she crave the touch of him so much without even knowing much about him? She realized that he knew an awful lot about her while he was as chatty as a clam.

  “Tell me something about you, please,” she said, closing her hand over his wrist. Anything, she thought, that would make her understand what made him tick. “I feel that—”

  “Stop right there.” His skin was warm under her touch, so warm, but his gaze wasn’t when he looked into her eyes. “Katherine, do me a favor and give your fiancé a call when you need to talk about your feelings.”

  The snide edge in his words made her throat tight and she let go of his wrist, taking a moment to gather herself. “Why is it you always make me mad?”

  “Have you called him yet? Does he know where you are?”

  “Trent,” she said, a tight fist of anger forming behind her chest, “that is none of your business.” But his words stung more than she cared to admit. She was sure Meg had given Simon her phone number. So far he hadn’t been in touch. “And why do you even care?”

  “I don’t care,” he said lightly, “you do.”

  She groaned, his words too familiar. She inhaled deeply, gave herself a push, seeking and holding his cool gaze. “How come,” she said, questioning her own sanity for asking this question in the first place, “your eyes sometimes change color?”

  She kept a close watch on his face. Nothing but a poker face greeted her gaze. Whatever she’d hoped his reaction would be, this wasn’t it.

  “Change color,” he repeated, sounding bored. “That’s something that could only happen in a dream.” He shaded his eyes, looking over the sea. “The weather changes.”

  Sure enough, thick, dark clouds crowded the sky in the west.

  He jumped up and called after Lucky, and when the dog came running, he fastened the leash back on. “You better head back to Ada with him.”

  A cold gust of wind hit her in the face. “I saw it,” she said quietly, knowing, just knowing in her gut that he was lying. “I saw it, Trent.”

  He turned away, left without a second glance. He hadn’t kissed her. Hadn’t called her Kat like last night. “But I didn’t just dream it,” she whispered, staring at his back, willing him to turn around once more. There was something very odd going on with him, something she couldn’t put her finger on. But he wasn’t telling her the truth.

  No matter.

  Sooner or later, she’d find the truth out for herself.

  ———

  That night, he didn’t knock.

  He just came in, closed the door, locked it.

  After she’d walked back to Ada’s, fat raindrops falling from the sky, she’d continued working in her garden, not caring that the rain drenched her to the bones. Anything that kept her mind busy and away from thinking about him was fine.

  But the closer the sun had come to sinking behind the horizon, the more she’d wondered if he would take her into his arms again tonight.

  And there he was, all six foot something of hot, hard male. His broad chest stretched his shirt as he crossed his arms, and he looked as if he silently challenged her to fight him. His gaze flew over her body, and she was glad she was dressed, if only in pajama bottoms and a wide tee.

  “Hi, Kat.”

  “Go away. I’m still mad at you.”

  “Not mad enough to lock the door.”

  “That’s because I’m weak.” She curled up on the comforter of the bed, took a silly, heart-shaped pillow into her arms and held it tightly against her breasts. “And I wonder if you are the kind of guy who likes to take advantage?”

  His jaw set, yet she saw an amused spark in the depths of his dark eyes. She wondered if she annoyed and amused him both in equal measures—because that was exactly how she felt about him.

  “So,” he said, “I guess it’s time I use that question I won.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  “No.” She grinned.

  “You smell like a liar, Kat. See, if you’d won, I wouldn’t have lied to you.”

  Damn. She’d wanted to ask him about his eyes.

  Pushing away from the door, he drew the heavy curtain over the blinds, which left them with only the light coming from the small bedside table lamp. He braced his hands on the footrest.

  “Now you’ll ask me to stay. Nicely. To make up for lying to me.”

  His words hung in the air, made her wish she hadn’t spoken when he’d entered. Yes, he was annoying, and yes, he was also making her smile more often than not, but he also made her hot and wet and so, so itchy with need to feel his hands on her skin. She lusted for him, after him, more than for any other man she’d ever met. And that included Simon.

  But she’d loved Simon, and maybe still did—she wasn’t sure. Would figure it out when he found her—whenever, if ever, that might be.

  But Trent wasn’t offering love, wasn’t going to wine and dine her, wasn’t going to tell her his deepest thoughts and emotions. He offered sex, no more, no less. There would be no talk about feelings, no getting-to-know-you-better chats. She realized she’d started to confuse him with boyfriend material.

  He was just her lover.

  My lover.

  She’d never had one, but it was an incredibly liberating idea. She moved on the bed and leaned her back against the headboard, crossed her legs at her bare ankles.

  “Stay,” she said, her voice steady and sure, if slightly husky. “Pretty please.”

  He cocked his head, and then, unexpectedly, he smiled that beautiful, disarming smile that dimpled his cheek and made her mouth twitch up in response.

  “You want me to stay?”

  She nodded, smiling, her head growing lighter as he practically undressed her with his gaze. “You want it bad?”

  “Yes.” His gaze sent a riot of sensations through her. “I want it bad.”

  “Why are you still dressed then?” he asked. “I was hoping to find you half naked between the sheets.”

  “I bet you were.”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Why don’t you do it for me?” she quipped, starting to enjoy being a flirt, a tease. “With your teeth maybe?” She laughed.

  “No, Kat,” he said, his voice lowered and with a hard edge that had her sitting up straighter, “that’s not how we’re going to play tonight.”

  She grasped the pillow in her arms tighter, her lightheartedness dying a sudden death. “What do you mean?”

  “You wanted to know if I’m the kind of guy who likes to take advantage,” he said, the muscles on his forearm flexing as he grabbed the footrest tighter. “Guess what, I am. And I’m telling you to take off your clothes.”

  A sudden foreboding slinked up her spine, and she hoped she was mistaken. He wouldn’t take advantage like this, would
he?

  “And…if I don’t take off my clothes?”

  “I’ll leave.”

  “You mean that?” God, she really had pissed him off somehow.

  “You’ll do exactly as I say tonight or I’ll walk,” he said, his mouth curving up in a devious smirk. “Now strip.”

  Her pussy gave a little spasm, reminding her just how much she wanted him. She licked her lips, her mouth dry. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it away. The pj bottoms followed. She crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “There, happy?”

  He shook his head, turned, was already halfway out the door before she all but screamed, “Wait!”

  She jumped up, tugged her panties over her hips so fast she scratched her skin with her fingernails. “Here.” She bunched the fabric into a ball and hit him square between the shoulder blades. “Come back.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding when he did.

  “I’ll give you this one,” he said, picking up her panties and locking the door again. “But the next time you disobey, you’re on your own.” He stepped past her, his shoulder brushing against hers, and yanked the comforter off the bed, sending pillows flying. “In.”

  Her heart still beating in her throat, she climbed back into bed, wrapped her arms around herself under his cool stare. “Can we switch off the light?”

  “Certainly not.”

  She leaned against the headboard. The wrought iron was too cold against her bare back and she shivered.

  “Uncross your arms.”

  She let her arms fall to her sides, curled her fingers into the sheets.

  The longer he didn’t speak the more tense she became. Her breasts grew taut, her nipples rising hard and tight. She wasn’t entirely sure if she liked how her body reacted. Not sure if she liked that submitting to his wishes, his demands, turned her on. She wasn’t submissive, was she? Then why—

  “Stop analyzing everything,” he said suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  She felt her jaw drop. “How—”

  “You’re frowning,” he said, stepping over to her side of the bed. He touched her forehead with his index finger, rubbed the skin there, smoothed it. “Close your eyes.”

  She did. Gladly.

  “Good girl,” he whispered in her ear, making her ridiculously pleased with herself. “Now spread your legs for me.”