Risking the Crown

by Violet Paige

  “No Long Island ice teas this time.”

  She chewed her lip. “I don’t know.”

  “How about this? Let’s go to the Cape for the day. It’s hot. You shouldn’t be locked up inside cleaning up shit. Let’s take the boat out. Remind you that you really are an islander.”

  “But—the charity—”

  I shrugged. “Leave them a note. I’ll pick you up on the pier in an hour.”

  I saw the corners of her pink lips curl. Damn she was still gorgeous.

  “Ok. I can do that. And I’ll pack some sandwiches?”

  I slapped the side of her car. “You better. I eat a lot. See you in an hour.”

  I watched as she backed all the way out of the drive and realized I needed to get the cooler ready. I had a full day of drinking to do.

  13

  Sierra

  I placed the open slices of bread on the cutting board and furiously spread mayonnaise and mustard over them.

  I couldn’t believe Roger Wyatt was dead. The man I blamed for ruining my life wasn’t here anymore. It was a lot to take in. What did that mean for Blake? He was dealing with the death of his father. I had missed so many events in his life.

  I hurried to wrap the turkey sandwiches and tuck them inside plastic sleeves. He would be here any minute. I couldn’t think about Blake’s dad or the past. Today was all about the future.

  I watched Blake anchor his boat on a secluded end of the bank where few tourists visited. I wondered if he tried to stay away from potential fans on purpose. I was constantly at odds trying to figure him out. He had to be feeling that way too. Was that what this was? An attempt to make me fall in love with the island again so I wouldn’t sell the house?

  Light bounced off the water and caught the glistening of a swimming school of fish. Sometimes wild ponies could be spotted on top of the dunes, playing a game of tag. I peered at the horizon, looking for the horses.

  It had been eight years since I had been to the Cape, but Aunt Lindy had taught me well how to pack for a day at the beach. I’d never forgotten her lessons. I had a cooler full of drinks, sandwiches, and suntan lotion. Blake smiled as he loaded the cooler and other bags onto his boat.

  “You know I usually just bring a six-pack of beer and sometimes a bag of chips.”

  “I wanted to make sure we had everything we needed.” Maybe three bags were too many for a day trip, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him.

  When we anchored, he helped me spread the blanket on a stretch of beach a few feet from where the waves were lapping against the shore.

  I sprawled out on the blanket with a book while Blake started on a beer. I kept reading the same page over and over again. I couldn’t get past the second paragraph. Every time I looked up at Blake, all I could focus on were the endless amounts of chiseled muscles. There was something mesmerizing about his bronze skin, and my imagination was taking over as I watched him rub more lotion on his arms and chest.

  “Either you can’t take your eyes off me, or you want some of this. Do you want me to put some on you?” Blake held out the lotion bottle with a coy grin. “The sun is serious today. I would hate for you to get burned.”

  “All right.” It made sense. I didn’t want to get a sun burn this late in the summer.

  I rolled onto my stomach, allowing him full access to my back. He poured a generous amount of coconut-scented oil in his palm. He rubbed his hands together, working the lather all over my back.

  I closed my eyes as the circular motion of his hand deepened while he explored the curves of my hips. He pulled the ties that fastened my bikini at the middle of my back and laid them on either side of my ribs. I relaxed into the blanket as he massaged the untouched skin with more intensity, a move that almost brought a moan from my throat. He inhaled while his thumbs worked the small of my back, slowly dipping below my waistline.

  “How does that feel?” he teased.

  “Uh-huh,” was all I could manage to stammer.

  “Is that all you have to say?” he asked. His hands made their way down my thigh, pressing in all the right spots.

  “Do you want me to tell you to stop?” I giggled, hoping he would keep going.

  It took everything in me to keep my hands and mouth off this man.

  Blake laughed and, with one firm hand, pulled the edge of my sun-kissed shoulder so that I rolled toward him. He gathered the scraps of bikini fabric clinging to my skin, letting his fingers brush across the pink flesh of my breasts, and tossed the top over our heads.

  I’d never felt so beautifully exposed before.

  I gasped as his mouth found mine. His lips were firm and urgent, but I could feel the want and longing lingering between us. Playful teasing turned hot the instant he bit down on my bottom lip, just enough to make me catch my breath.

  I yielded to his tongue and tugged him down against my breasts. His skin was hot from the sun, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders, as if that would keep me from spiraling out of control. Yes, I wanted this, but I hadn’t thought it through. Everything felt too good to stop. I could taste the salt on his neck as my lips grazed over his shoulder and worked up toward his ear.

  Arching toward him, I drank in the feeling of his rough hands exploring the inches of my exposed skin. Gradually, his lips trailed down the line of my neck until he was hovering over my breasts, casting a shadow on the creamy skin that only a few minutes ago had been covered in a bright pink bikini top.

  He stopped, and for a second, I worried something was wrong. I watched him, his eyes raked over me, taking in the curves of my body, my golden hair splayed all around the beach blanket, the rhythmic motion of my chest breathing in and out, and my eyes. I wanted him. I hoped he could see it. Everything happening between us right now felt hot, intense, and like we were in the same place, for the first time in eight years.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous, Sierra.”

  He reached for my hands and brought them over my head, nestling them in the sunbaked sand off the edge of the blanket. I lightly pulled against his grip, wiggling closer to him, but steadily resisted the urge to struggle against his control.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  I nodded.

  His teeth grazed my neck then returned to my breasts. I cried out when his teeth pulled my nipple between them. He bit down, sending an exquisite pressure pulsing through my body.

  “Oh God,” I moaned.

  It only made him suck and bite harder. My hips jerked involuntarily and I felt the wetness between my legs.

  My back arched so that our bodies were locked together, separated by only a tiny bikini bottom and a pair of swimming trunks. I smiled. I could feel exactly what I was doing to him. His cock was solid and long.

  He groaned.

  “I think I’m going to have to fuck you right here. Sex on the beach?”

  I nodded. “I want you too.” I breathed, knowing I was making a mistake, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  I wiggled enough so he could pull the strings on the side of my bikini. He tossed the scrap of fabric out of his way.

  I didn’t care about the sun beating down on us, or the sand all around. My body was gliding against his. His hands were all over me. His tongue in an out of my mouth. Covering my nipples. Gliding over my stomach.

  “Fuck,” he growled, pushing my legs wide.

  “Ohh,” I whimpered. My head turned to the sound and that’s when I saw it.

  The tide.

  It was coming in, but I was too late.

  Before we had a chance to move out of the ripping current’s path, we were both soaked by the unexpected wave. Startled I scrambled for my bikini as it drifted past me before the surf took it out to sea.

  “Shit,” he murmured as we both leapt forward to save what was left of our beach site.

  He cleared his throat and reached for the drenched blanket and the sunscreen. Stuffing them in the bag, he turned toward me. I was busy refastening my suit.

  “Why don’t we find anot
her beach? It looks like this one is going to wash away soon. I’ll load this stuff on the boat and we can find another spot.”

  “No.” I snatched the blanket out of the bag and tried to wring some of the water out of it. “I think we should go back.”

  I was instantly sorry I had snapped at Blake, but the shock of the wave seemed to whip me back into reality and back into control of my hormones. I had almost had sex on the beach. In broad daylight like an irresponsible eighteen-year-old girl. What in holy hell was wrong with me?

  14

  Blake

  We loaded the remainder of the beach bags and cooler, neither one of us saying anything to the other. I started the small twin power engine and careened the boat back to the docks. With one eye on the nearing horizon, I tried to focus on the boats in the marina and not the ache in my cock.

  I had been seconds from what I wanted. Fucking seconds.

  As soon we reached the pier, I could tell she was pissed. As she walked past me to put her bags on the dock, I could see the frustration in her eyes.

  “Something wrong, darlin’?”

  “No.” She hauled the bags up on her shoulders.

  “You sure? Because you haven’t said one word since the tide interrupted us.”

  “It’s just. I just … I hate being startled. And you know, the whole thing was a surprise to me anyway,” Sierra blurted out.

  “Believe me, if I could control the tides I would.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She lowered her voice.

  “I can take you inside right now and finish what we started.” I eyed her.

  She blushed. “For what? Why? Sleeping together again? You think that’s a good idea?”

  I tied off the boat and stepped toward her.

  “One of my favorite things to do.” I winked.

  She slapped at my bare chest. “Shut up. Just take your sexy smile and winking and that body and shut up, Blake.”

  My eyebrows rose high. “You have a problem with me or something?”

  She dropped all the bags. “I do. A big problem.”

  “Then let’s hear it. What is it? What is it I’ve done to the high and mighty Sierra Emory?”

  “That.” She pointed, her eyes an icy blue. “I knew it was there. You are mad at me. And as much as I want to believe the guy I used to be with is underneath that hot body of yours, you’re actually a huge dick. Huge.”

  “Are you saying I have a nice dick because I think you already know that.”

  “See?” she fumed. “Complete dick.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. It is. I don’t know what this is. You want revenge sex? Is that it?”

  “Maybe.” I admitted it. I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted her so badly I couldn’t name it, label it, or dissect it. It was the kind of want that made my veins shatter.

  Her eyes widened. “You weren’t actually supposed to say yes to that.”

  “Why not? We’re getting everything out in the open aren’t we?”

  I stepped off the pier. She was in the backyard now, backing up toward the porch.

  “So that’s what this was? Not rekindling what we had, but revenge? You wanted to sleep with me to prove some kind of point?”

  I was close enough to pull her into my arms. I wrapped a hand tightly around her waist. She stiffened against me.

  “I do have a point to prove,” I growled.

  I thought I felt her go weak in my arms.

  “Wh-what is that?”

  “That if I fuck you again, you’ll never want another man. That one time with me will ruin you from ever wanting someone else.”

  “You’re arrogant,” she whispered.

  “Arrogant because I know it’s true.” My lips dipped to her ear. “I’ll be so deep inside you, baby, so fucking hard. And you like it slow, right?” I brushed my finger over her bare shoulder. “I’ll ruin you.”

  She went silent.

  I let her go and she staggered backward.

  “You are an ass, Blake Wyatt. A complete and total ass.”

  I chuckled. “Before you leave this island you’ll be knocking on my door. I’m sure of it.”

  I turned for the boat. She was under my skin. Maybe more than I was under hers. If I didn’t get out of here now I would pick her up and take her upstairs to her bedroom—somewhere I’d never been.

  “That’s not happening,” she called after me.

  I waved over my shoulder. “See you later, darlin’.” I could hear her fuming before I started the engine. I put the boat in reverse, leaving a very hot and bothered blonde in my wake.

  15

  Sierra

  Just like that he was gone. The boat turned past the marina and I couldn’t see him anymore. I stomped up the stairs. I didn’t know if I was more pissed that he would say something like that to me, or the fact that I was on the verge of begging for him to make good on his promise.

  I dumped the drenched beach bag in the utility sink and pulled out the soaking wet towels to hang outside. I plucked four clothes pins from the line and clipped them to the colorful edges of towels. I ducked around the billowing towel, shimmied out of my cutoff shorts, and pulled the tank top over my head. Everything I had was coated in wet sand. I shook the clothes to loosen the sand stuck to the fabric. There was no point. I knew it would be tomorrow before I could properly shake these out.

  I leaned against the tree on the other side of the clothesline. I closed my eyes as images of his hands and hard chest washed through my mind like those unwanted waves.

  I kicked off my sandy flip-flops by the back door, and traipsed into the house in search of some ice tea. I grabbed a tall glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice and a few lemon slices.

  I had left my phone on the counter. There was a message from work. I listened to the voicemail.

  “Hey Sierra. I know you’re on leave, but we need you back at the station. Turns out Wendy needs to take maternity leave early and there isn’t another anchor we can get on short notice to fill in for her. Give me a call. It’s Brody, by the way.”

  I groaned. Work was the last thing on my mind. They would have to wait until this tea was gone. I had too many things going on.

  It wasn’t like I was trying to take advantage of the station. If anything I had been terrified to leave. But I hadn’t made it back for the funeral and I didn’t have any other family members. It seemed like a good idea to roll all my sick time and funeral time into one big summer break.

  The head of human resources said she understood. As the sole heir, I had a lot of shit to sort through. But time was shrinking. The house was still seventy-five percent full and I hadn’t even tried to list it yet with a realtor.

  I slumped onto the couch.

  And Blake.

  If I thought somehow I could right that wrong, I was hopeless.

  The cruises. The drinks. The day at the beach—it was all to get in my pants for some kind of final goodbye vengeance sex.

  My skin tingled. My core ached.

  Why did it sound like the hottest night of my life?

  I picked up the phone and waited for Brody to answer.

  “Sierra, hey girl. Glad you called me back. When are you coming back?”

  “I still have two weeks. I was planning on using them,” I replied.

  “Right. You got my message about Wendy, right? She has to go on bed rest next week.”

  “Bed rest? Is it that serious?”

  “Uhh. I don’t think so.”

  “Did you ask her?” I wasn’t surprised he didn’t know any details.

  “Look, it isn’t my business. I just work the schedule.”

  I sighed. “So you need me back a week early?”

  “We do, babe. Can you come home?”

  Home. It was a funny word lately. Dallas was where my apartment was. Where I kept my massive shoe collection and my journalism school diploma. The island wasn’t home anymore. But the memories had started to seep in in surprising wa
ys. Familiar scents. Comfortable accents. Views that soothed my soul.

  “Yeah, of course.” I tried to smile. “Tell Wendy not to worry about it.”

  “Good. I knew you’d come through. We’ve missed you around here.”

  “Thanks. I’ve missed it too.”

  “See you next week.”

  “Yep. See you soon.”

  I hung up and realized my job of going through Aunt Lindy’s house had just become unsurmountable. There was no way I was going to get everything done in a week. I was crazy to think it would have been done in two.

  That meant I was going to have to come back.

  16

  Blake

  I pressed my palms into the sawhorses and closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was in here.

  All I could smell was sawdust and turpentine. Everywhere I looked I saw him. Climbing the ladder with a bucket of paint. Arguing in the office about a bill someone refused to pay. But they were only memories. Dad was gone. He wasn’t going to barge in here and tell me I was doing this all wrong. He would know a better way to do it. He always had a better way than I did.

  I picked up a tattered piece of sand paper and braced it between my hand and a piece of juniper. I smoothed the wood with the rough surface. The more I moved it back and forth, the sleeker the wood looked. I ground it harder, repeating the motion.

  I got lost in it. The movement. The stillness of the barn. What it meant that I had opened the doors to his sanctuary.

  Ten minutes later, Cole entered the boathouse.

  He stopped a few feet short of where I was sanding. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Don’t say anything.” I gritted my teeth.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “You weren’t in the house. Didn’t think you’d actually be in here.”

  I nodded. “Needed something to do.”

  I heard him break the seal on a beer. “Need one of these?”

  I grinned. “Hell yeah I do.”