by Zoe Dawson
The catamaran pulled up to a floating dock in the middle of the ocean, part of the Great Barrier. The Agincourt Ribbon Reef was a small reef that ran parallel to the continental shelf. It was the most pristine ecosystem in the reef’s environment.
Our charter company had built a floating base in the sea, complete with a bar, a sundeck, change rooms and freshwater showers, an underwater observatory, semi-submersibles, and a buffet food area. Guests could choose to snorkel or scuba dive. We chose snorkeling because neither one of us had ever scuba dived.
Just a mile and a quarter beyond the outer edge of this reef, the sea floor dropped away into a deep abyss, the demarcation from shallow turquoise to bottomless midnight blue. The clean, clear water from the deep ocean washed over these outer barriers, helping to promote the prolific growth of corals and supported spectacular marine life, for which it was famous.
When we hit the platform, I stripped off my orange sarong and tried to ignore the way Gunner looked at me as we followed our guide, a woman named Sarah who had a lovely Australian accent and pretty blond hair.
At the snorkel platform, we immersed ourselves in the water and entered a new wilderness of fragile beauty and perfect harmony. The reef vibrated with the hues, stripes, and shimmering of a myriad of fish. I watched, entranced, as a bright orange and white clownfish, its delicate fins tipped in black, snuggled into the embrace of a magnificent sea anemone, the tentacles a bright green and the base an electric blue.
I smiled, remembering how the other fish pestered Marlin to tell a joke because he was a clownfish in Finding Nemo. Then I realized that Gunner was watching me, not the cute little clownfish.
He took my breath away. His skin was tanned from the sun, and his black hair rippled with the ocean currents, his gorgeous brown eyes glued to mine. I saw him through the clear, pure waters, as pure and as clear as my feelings for him. I was falling for him…hard. Not the skateboarder with so much talent it boggled my mind, not the unhappy former surfer who buckled down and sacrificed for his mother and his sister, not the terribly abused boy—but the man who with commitment, sheer guts, and humbleness touched off every mushy-girl receptor in my body. I smiled into his relaxed, laughing eyes. It was so good to see him like this.
He slipped his hand into mine, his touch warm and gentle. My heart bumped up against the wall of my chest. We were making memories, building something special, and it felt so freaking real.
When the tour was over, our guide brought us back to the platform, and Gunner pulled himself out of the water and reached down to help me out. I pulled off my mask and grinned at him like a ten-year-old. “That was so damned awesome!”
“Yeah, I had more fun watching you swim with the fishes than I think I have ever had in my life.” We retreated to a corner, and he dropped his voice. “You’re so beautiful, Lena.” The urge to crawl all over this man hit me hard, but it was impossible since we were out in the middle of the ocean on a floating platform.
“Oh, yeah, just that look,” he whispered.
“What look?” I said, smiling and sliding my hands up his back, molding over some impressive muscles.
“The look that makes me want to get you on your back and use my mouth until you say my name in that hot, totally abandoned way I love. I get hard sometimes just breathing the scent of you.”
“It’s too bad we’re thirty-nine nautical miles from the nearest bed.”
“Too damn bad.” He pulled me against him, and I gasped at the thick ridge of flesh pressing into my bikini bottom. Thank God those board shorts were…roomy.
He leaned down and kissed me, and I knew after this moment I was never going to be the same. That something had touched me, something that came once in a lifetime. I wanted to hang on to it and him as long as possible. Through everything that we still had to go through to get where we wanted to be.
Regardless of Mr. Smith’s silence, I sensed that some big waves were coming our way. I took solace in knowing that Gunner was a street warrior, and even though I was somewhere between bitch and angel, nothing would stop me from standing by Gunner. If I got pushed, I’d be bringing out my bitch hard core.
Winning was everything when it meant something.
Chapter 15
Gunner
Lena and I arrived at the photo shoot bright and early. Max was already there, along with all the merchandise and the photographers and models. I noticed a hot-pink skateboard in a little girl’s fist as she talked to one of the other models. Printed on the bottom were the words sugar and spice crossed out and hell on wheels written in. Beneath that, you go, girl in bold red.
I glanced at Lena as she chatted with Max. She was dressed in this one-shoulder, gossamer multicolored sundress that floated around her, reminding me of a gorgeous butterfly. And she still had a tinge of color across the bridge of her nose where the sun had kissed her. I couldn’t forget how it had been when we’d gotten back to Port Douglas and to our hotel room.
The sex had been amazing. So lost-my-way, can’t-breathe-think-or-function mind-blowing. But it wasn’t all that mattered to me, getting deep inside her or stroking her until she cried out my name in that heated voice, begging me to slide my dick so deeply into her. What mattered more was when I’d woken up in that hotel the next morning, savoring the memory of the look on her face as she watched that little clownfish and then looked to me…ah…God, to me, to share it with me, her discovery. I’d propped myself up on my elbow and watched her sleep.
She had been on her stomach, her fiery locks spread out onto her smooth back and burning across the stark white of the pillow beneath her cheek. We had pushed the covers down in our sleep, and I was intrigued with the small of her back, the way it curved into her high, tight ass, the length of her long, toned legs.
Then when she’d opened those green eyes, the ones that held all that sassy spirit and sweetness, I realized my heart wasn’t my own anymore. It was in the supple and gentle hands of Lena.
Max clapped his hands, and my attention returned to the shoot. Lena was on her phone, doing some sports-agent business stuff. I got momentarily caught up in the way the sunlight touched her hair until Max drawled in my ear.
“When you’re finished gawking at Helena, could I possibly get your attention?”
I started and gave him a quick grin, totally unashamed of getting caught ogling her.
“Sure, Max.”
He turned back to the group and explained how he wanted the shoot to go. We were back at the Wick, but this time I didn’t have to worry about getting chased off by the cops. There were tents set up nearby, and I had to sit and endure the makeup-and-hair stuff. Then Max motioned me over and he pulled out three boards and I about lost my shit.
“Fuck me, Max,” I said.
“Yeah, Keke and Star are very talented. You look these over and decide which one fits you the best. We, of course, can adjust the trucks and such to get you the best ride.”
He walked away to talk to the cameraman, leaving me staring at the boards.
They were flipped upside down on a plain black piece of velvet cloth. I picked up the first one. My name was in block letters along the edge of the deck. The words Locked and Loaded in black script across a tan background with a barrel of a gun on the nose and heel with skulls showing instead of the backs of bullets. It was a sick design.
The second one had my name burned in a bullet-hole font that was so cool. The word Gunslinger in black across the full bottom of the red deck with Bam, Bam, Bam also in that bullet-hole font but larger and slightly slanted. Under that, You’re dead.
The last one was in black-and-white tones. The deck black with the words Hit Man—Skate or Die in white. My name was lettered in this awesome, creepy-looking script, black outlined in white, with the t in my last name shaped like a scythe in shining, metallic black. Keke and Star had outdone themselves.
“So, what do you think?” Star appeared next to me, and she was beaming.
“I’m tripping out. These are awesome!”
I held out my fist and she bumped it. “I have no words.”
“Did you make a decision?” Max said. “We’re ready to get you going.”
“You make it, Star. I just don’t know.”
“How about we feature all three? It’ll give people a chance to choose which one they like the best.”
“All three, huh?” Max thought about it for a moment. “Okay, let’s go for it. We’re going to do the posing stuff first.”
I had been dressed in a black hoodie with leather sleeves. It was too hot out, but as the water from the fountain behind me splashed out, a fine mist settled on me, cooling me off. I tried to act natural, resting the heel of my hand on the nose of the board and making hot eye contact with Lena. As the photographer was shooting, she fanned herself a couple of times, giving me hard sultry right back.
I wished I could fan myself, too. And the hoodie had nothing to do with the heat in my core.
Max clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Let’s move this to action now. This is about the boards and riding. I want you to do your thing, get a lot of air.”
“Rad. Done.”
“We’ll have you working with the fountain later. Maybe some flat-ground tricks and the like, but use this area, and our photographers will be working alongside you.”
A guy with a camera and a skateboard rolled up to us. “Just do your thing, dude, and I’ll make you look good.” He grinned.
I bumped fists with him and smirked. “I always look good, man.”
He laughed and turned his ball cap backward. “Let’s do this.”
For the next half an hour, I did flips and tricks off every surface of the Wick, including a difficult, sick 360 inward heelflip over the reflecting pool. Max loved that one. They played a lot of the footage back while I stood there and watched myself.
I wished I felt as in control as I appeared in those shots—it was like an out-of-body experience, as if I were watching someone else doing impossible feats.
Max grabbed me by the back of the neck and squeezed. “You done good, kid. We’re going to sell a shit ton of boards.”
I nodded and said, “Hey, Max. About that pink skateboard.”
He looked startled. “What? You’re not going to tell me that’s your color.”
Only when it was on Lena’s lips, then all over me. “No, I wanted to buy it. For someone.”
“Oh, buy it?” He turned and bellowed, “Star, bring me the pink board.” She had been packing them away when she stopped what she was doing and jogged over with it. Max took it and turned back to me. “Nah. Go ahead and take it. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks, Max.”
“When we get everything together, I’ll let Lena know and give you a sneak peek. How about another barbecue? Bring your board with you and I’ll get it signed. Sound good?”
My throat got tight. Max was good people. He didn’t hold that horrible scene of my dad’s against me. I smiled. “Deal.” We fist-bumped to seal it, and he left.
I turned to find Lena standing off to the side, her eyes beaming at me. She believed in me. It hit me as hard as a sucker punch to the ribs. The girl was 100 percent behind me.
“What are you looking so smug about?” I asked as she walked over to me.
“Just that I was right about you and Max. Admit it. This is a sweet deal.”
I gave her a warped smile. “You are the awesome twist in McHotstuff.”
Her eyes twinkled, and there was a whooshing sound as fountains came to life again. She did this little dodge dance out of the closest spray. “Dammit. My hair is going to look like hell, and I have a meeting in an hour.”
“You could never look like hell,” I said. “You look like a pretty butterfly in that dress.”
She took a quick breath, and I loved that my words affected her so physically. What I wanted to do was vault the short wall between us, grab her, and kiss her. I must have broadcast that thought because she took another breath, this one a bit shakier. She pulled herself together, but I was stoked to see it took some effort. With a cheeky smile, she said, “You have no idea what humidity does to my hair. You might have the word gunslinger on your skateboards, but after my shower, I quick draw, lightning fast like Billy the Kid, my choice of peacemaker: a sleek, ionic blow-dryer.”
She was so cute, it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself, especially since we were in public. For what I had in mind, I didn’t want an audience. I held her gaze and grinned at her. “Watch it, McHotstuff, there are other things I’m good at quick drawing.”
Her smile broadened. “Let’s hope you’re not as quick to…ah…discharge as well.”
I advanced on her with a rough laugh. She retreated right into the fountains, and I laughed harder when she squealed and gave me a heated look.
“Watch out. It’s a mad, wet butterfly. What are you going to do to me?”
“Flutter all over you with moist butterfly kisses,” she shot back. Then she shook her head and laughed.
But it was as if she cast a spell over me with those provocative words. My whole body tightened and flexed.
Suddenly I was feeling things I didn’t want to feel, wanting things that were within my reach, but seemed much too risky. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, wishing the hole in my gut would go away, wondering what was the matter with me.
She clasped the silky material with her delicate fingertips, swirling the skirt of the dress into the bubbling stream of water, her head bent over her shoulder, her eyes downcast as she watched the water droplets splashing away from the geyser.
Then she caught the hem of her gossamer dress in her fingers and bared a mouth-watering expanse of toned thigh. With another charming peal of laughter, she fanned out the skirt, launching a sheet of beaded spray, shimmering in the sun in front of her and turning the air into diamonds.
My eyes were burning, my shoulders tensing, and my gut clenching, my breath catching as everything coalesced into a hard, aching knot in my chest.
Something was happening…had already happened, sneaked in when I wasn’t paying attention.
I was in love with Helena Mavrick.
The forever-after, can’t-live-without-her kind of love.
She raised her head at that exact moment. Her gaze went sultry, her eyes like emeralds. I wasn’t even aware I had moved, but there I was in front of her.
She stared at me, transfixed, looking totally winded, as if she was feeling the same rush of emotion I was feeling. She closed her eyes and braced both hands on my chest, her chest rising as if she couldn’t catch any air.
Her lashes lifted to half-mast, her heart in her eyes, something wholly dangerous there, something that weakened me at the same time it bolstered me. “Damn you, Gunner,” she breathed, then she caught me by the hair, pulled my head down, and gave me a kiss that just about blew my jeans to smithereens.
My breath hitched as her mouth almost made my knees buckle, so soft and warm, her arms sliding around my hips. “Beautiful, Lena,” I murmured, tasting her lips.
She gave my hair another yank and deepened the kiss, and I got real serious, real quick, dragging her against me. She made a low sound and slid her arms around my neck, and suddenly breathing was impossible. Grabbing the back of her head, I fought for air, my heart hammering. I changed the angle of her head, then sealed my mouth hungrily over hers.
I had to stop kissing her. I pulled away with an anguished sound. I needed to see it in her eyes, that intimacy, make that connection. I was a guy, and I didn’t know jack shit about this stuff, but Lena did. She knew, and every time she looked at me like that something broke loose in me, something that was tied up and tied down. Something that was buried so deep I hadn’t even known it was there. I had been a prisoner, and I hadn’t even known it. Locked up in my own head and paralyzed in my heart. That look of hers, that laser shot to my soul made the locks snick open, and all that I had been keeping secret flooded out. My chest heaved, and my mouth went back to hers, but the frantic pace we’d set slowed. I
n its place was a calm, quiet, serene longing that made me ache so hard I thought for a minute I might even lose it. I had never experienced this before because there had been no Lena in my life before. Now that she was here, I couldn’t imagine her anywhere else.
Then the memory of my dad’s eyes intruded. The knowing look, the calculating, I-got-your-ticket smirk. This time the panic wasn’t because I would lose it here. It was because I recognized the kind of risk this posed.
The anguished thought crackled through me like electricity.
I would do anything to protect her.
Loving her compromised me in the most profound way.
And, I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat to keep her safe.
Chapter 16
Helena
I was rushing from my office to my car when my cell rang. Answering it on the fly because I was late for Kim’s birthday party and Gunner was waiting, I said, “Hello.” A sports agent was never off the clock.
“Ms. Mavrick. Mark Malone from Nitor.”
“Hello, Mr. Malone. Good to hear from you.” This was it. I could feel it. Gunner’s performance in Sydney was still firing up YouTube and Street League Jam’s website.
“This call is about your boy Gunner. We’ve decided we’d like to sit down with you and negotiate a sponsorship for him along with a slot on our team.”
“That’s fabulous. He’s very interested in talking.”
“Excellent. We think he’s going to be a hot property once he competes for the championship in a few weeks. We’d like to lock him in before that competition. How about next week? We’ll come to you.”
“That would be great. Could you call my assistant and set something up?”