Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)

by Stacy Kestwick

  “I’ll be waiting,” I promised him, pulling away reluctantly as I sensed the presence of another couple waiting to greet West behind me.

  EXCEPT, I BARELY saw him for the next two hours. He’d gotten involved in several longwinded conversations with paunchy men who had too much money and time on their hands, and I hadn’t been able to get to him. Not that I’d just been standing around spying on him.

  No, Grady had kept his word, and I’d made the rounds myself, meeting community leaders and making new connections. Not one of them batted an eye when they heard my name, no one gasped or pulled away in disgust. Aubrey’s campaign to destroy my reputation hadn’t spread as far as I’d feared.

  And Nick was there. He found me hovering by an empty table near the edge of the dance floor, taking a moment to clear my head, and handed me a blood orange margarita with a look of pure innocence. “Really?” I’d chided.

  He dipped his chin. “In remembrance of a great night. What can I say? The salt air and humidity are bringing back memories.”

  “Memories we’re never going to speak of again,” I said pointedly, taking a long swallow of the frozen beverage before setting it down on the table.

  He winked, and mimed zipping his lips while I glared at him. “I met with Grady yesterday.” He waited for me to react and when I didn’t, he continued. “He showed me your finished campaign. I’d like to commend you. The images were stunning.” He tipped a slight nod my way. “Almost as good as mine, even.” I rolled my eyes at his ego but he kept talking. “Seriously, Sadie, I wanted to say good job. I’m proud to have my work next to yours for this project, and I’d love to work with you again in the future.”

  Slightly stunned by his unexpected praise, I could only gape at him.

  Setting his drink down, he scooped up my hand. “Dance with me?”

  Glancing around, I finally spotted West sequestered with a small group near the corner of the huge white tent that dominated the yard. Aubrey was next to him.

  “Sure,” I gritted, following him to the dance floor. The live band had been playing a wide range of favorites all night, from the Beach Boys and Jimmy Buffet to more current Top 40 hits. While we danced, I couldn’t help but glance at West from time to time. He had shifted positions so he was facing me. The weight of his gaze tracked my movements, but Aubrey was still next to him, so I did my best to ignore him.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Huh?”

  “The guy staring daggers at me. It’s the idiot we talked about on the plane. The one who lost you.”

  I’d forgotten we’d talked about that. “Yeah. That’s him.”

  “Are you still lost? Or has he found you again?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. Our status was nebulous, murky, awaiting that big bang that would solidify us into being.

  “What about you?” I countered instead of answering. “Has anyone claimed you yet?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Not for more than a night or two.”

  I shook my head in mock disgust as we wove around each other, finding an easy rhythm. He didn’t crowd me or try anything inappropriate. In fact, considering our previous encounters, Nick was actually being quite . . . tame.

  “Why not?” My question was serious.

  His eyes darkened and shifted away from mine uneasily. “Despite my appearances of chasing every hot woman whose path I cross, yours included, I’m not an easy man to get close to.”

  “On purpose,” I guessed.

  “On purpose.”

  The song came to an end, and we both turned to retrieve our abandoned drinks. I started to follow up the question, but he shook his head sharply. “Just leave it, Sadie. You passed on your chance to dig deeper.” His face softened, tipping his head toward the corner of the pavilion where West was still locked in conversation. “And the idiot doesn’t look like such a bad guy.”

  I snuck a quick peek at West, whose face had turned stormy and tight as he tracked our movements. “He’s not.” Aubrey twisted to follow his gaze and scowled, stepping forward half a step to block his view.

  “Should I be worried for my safety?”

  “Maybe.” My lips twitched.

  His eyebrows rose. “Duly noted. And with that warning, I think I’ll leave you to your drink. It was good to see you, Sadie. Keep up the good work.”

  I laughed as he retreated and pretended to keep a wary eye on West. Picking up the half-melted margarita, I joined Hailey, Rue, and Grady at the edge of tent. “Did I miss anything?”

  “No,” Hailey mused, looking quite sophisticated in a strapless, tea-length emerald dress. “I’d say things were just getting good.”

  I giggled. “What does that mean?”

  “Have you talked to West yet?”

  “When I first got here. He’s been tied up since then.”

  “He might be tied up, but he’s been watching you.”

  “Well, yay. How can I untie him?”

  Grady spoke up. “I think I can help with that. Sadie, would you care to . . . salsa?”

  I WASN’T ENTIRELY sure what Grady’s plan was—with West or on the dance floor. On the island, we’d practiced to a more authentic Latin beat, but tonight we were making do with a Marc Anthony song. I’ll admit, if I was going to put myself out there on display, I wanted to look damn good doing it. If West was gonna have his eyes on me, I wanted to put on a show he wouldn’t forget. And the selfish, shallow part of me—the petty devil on my shoulder I wasn’t proud of—just wanted to fucking show Aubrey that, for once, it wasn’t all about her.

  Even if it was for just one damn song.

  After two weeks apart, the first several measures of the song were rusty. I couldn’t find the one beat and was throwing off our rhythm. Grady improvised, adding a little twisting spin to focus my concentration back on him. And purposefully face me away from West.

  “You forget,” he murmured as our feet finally coordinated, regaining the syncopated fluidity of the dance, “that there’s someone here I might want to impress as well.” He spun us, dipped me low, and continued on. “Concentrate. We’re only gonna get this one shot.”

  I smirked and donned my game face. “Bring it.”

  The beat took up residence in my chest, the 4/4 cadence becoming a natural extension of my feet as I followed his lead. We ran through several of the combos we’d learned, with an emphasis on the ones with the flashier moves we knew we can handle.

  My face lit in a smile. We. Were. Owning. It.

  Grady spun me again, and I must have done something wrong, because my wrist was captured at an awkward angle, keeping me from completing the movement. I lifted my gaze, brows dipping low in confusion, and clashed with the blue-gray storm clouds rioting in West’s eyes. I followed the line of his shoulder down his bicep, past his strong forearm to where his fingers clasped the thin bones of my wrist, not painfully, but enough to make a point.

  “West,” I exhaled.

  Not lifting his piercing stare from mine, he tipped his chin at Grady, the words somehow both heated and icy at the same time. “You don’t mind if I cut in, do you?”

  I tore my eyes from West’s long enough to glance over my shoulder, where Grady tried to smother the mirth threatening to overtake his face. He acquiesced with grace, ever the Southern gentleman. “The lady is all yours.”

  The storm clouds erupted, West’s eyes flashing dangerously as they ran over my face, searching for something. A signal? Whatever it was, he seemed to find it and his fingers threaded through mine, tugging me closer, until he was all I could see, all I could feel. I caught a whiff of his salt-and-citrus smell, and my knees weakened a bit, a slip he took advantage of to bring me snug against his broad chest. “Yes. Yes, she is.” He shifted me fully into his iron embrace, molding me to his hard contours. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to remind her.”

  My eyes widened and my breath caught, even as I instinctively followed his movements. It wasn’t a salsa anymore. No, it was dirti
er, slower, but just as sensual, the way his hips rolled and mine followed, our bodies flush and his solid thigh thrust between mine.

  The other times we’d danced at Anchor flashed through my mind. The first night we’d been intimate together, when he’d stolen me away from the boy with the British accent. And then again, before I’d left on the trip a few weeks ago. How dancing with him had always been foreplay to wild, frenzied lovemaking

  It reminded me of the last time. When love and anger had sparred for control, fighting for the upper hand. Because looking in his eyes, I didn’t doubt that both of those emotions simmered in him tonight as well. The intensity coated the air between us like molasses, thick and dark and sweet.

  I lifted my chin in challenge. He wasn’t the only one whose feelings were threatening to boil over. I wasn’t sure if I was more inclined to beat my fists against his chest or yank him closer until I could claim him as mine, publicly and irrevocably, polite society be damned.

  If there were other people around us, I was oblivious. It was just him and his touch and the sticky humidity and my pulse hammering so hard, I was sure he felt it in his own chest.

  His hand dropped until it rested dangerously low on my back. The other crept up until his fingers tangled in my upswept curls, tugging until I raised my eyes to his, the sting in my scalp skipping down my spine and pooling low in my belly.

  My tongue slid out to wet my lower lip, capturing his gaze with that small action. He groaned, his eyes dilated in the waning evening light as they focused on my mouth.

  “Sadie.” His voice was harsh, demanding, at odds with the vulnerability I saw lurking in his eyes. “Take a walk with me?” His grip tightened fractionally, as if he was scared I’d refuse him.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Took you long enough to ask.” Honestly, at this point I didn’t care. He’d blown me off again all evening, and I didn’t really want to have another conversation about Aubrey. But I made no move to escape from his arms as he maneuvered us to the far corner of the dance floor, where the twinkling lights dripping from the live oaks along with the Spanish moss didn’t penetrate. “Will Aubrey be following us? She seems rather attached to your hip.” I spoke flatly, wanting to sound uninterested in his answer but knowing I failed.

  He dipped his head, murmuring against my ear. “My hips are only interested in one girl here tonight, if you hadn’t noticed.” He ground against me, the hard length of him evident through his tailored pants. His mouth stole a taste from the tender flesh of my neck, dissolving any remaining arguments on my tongue.

  With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he nudged me into the shadows beyond the party boundaries.

  I wasn’t sure what I felt. Arousal, yes. Frustration, definitely. But did I want to tell him with words—or with my body? We edged around the pool, his grip on my hand firm and steady, as if making sure I wouldn’t try to slip away.

  When we got to the pool house, he pulled me inside, then pushed me back against the door and covered my body with his larger one. His heat warmed me right through my dress, awakening my nipples, which promptly beaded a hard hello as he rubbed against me.

  “You’ve been trying to make me jealous tonight, haven’t you?” He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand.

  The lights were off, the only illumination coming from the very last of the sun’s deep orange rays peeking through the windows. His free hand cupped my cheek, tilting me up to face him, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “First, you were with that guy, the one you let bring you a drink.”

  “Nick.”

  He gripped me tighter. “You know him then.”

  I nodded best I could. “We met in Grand Cayman. He was the other photographer for the campaign.”

  West turned my head, and pressed open-mouthed kisses along my jawline, his thumb still teasing my lip. I couldn’t resist licking the rough pad, pulling it into my mouth and biting down. He groaned, then dragged his hand down, pushing the edge of my dress aside until his wet thumb softly rubbed my pebbled nipple, just enough to tease, but not enough to ease the ache. I arched my back, silently asking for more.

  “And you spent so much time together that he knows what you drink?” He spoke against my throat.

  I tipped my head to give him more access. “He—” I gasped when he nipped the tender skin where my neck met my shoulder. “He mentored me.”

  West reared back with eyes so dark they looked feral. “Did he now? And were you a good student?”

  I was glad the light was all but gone, twilight bathing us in a purple glow. He couldn’t see the way my cheeks burned, both from embarrassment and anger. “I might know a few new tricks.” If he was going to believe the worst about me, I’d fucking let him.

  He cursed, and his grip around my tender nipple bordered on cruel. “You’re mine.” He gritted out the words from behind clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw pulsing.

  “Then act like it.” My words had the effect of a slap. He dropped his hands and stepped back until a few inches separated us, his face slack with disbelief.

  “Grady was the one who introduced me to everyone tonight, not you,” I pointed out. I bit my lip, hating how catty my next words would sound. “And she’s been the one by your side all night, not me.” I didn’t have to use her name for us to know who I was referring to.

  He shoved a hand through his hair impatiently and stepped forward again, crowding me so I had no choice but to look at him. “Tonight was an opportunity. One I’ve worked all summer on. I needed to network with those men out there, the ones who could help expand my business to the next level, but instead I’m in here with you, arguing.” He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “What did you want me to do when she walked up? Pout like a little kid? Walk away like she had cooties? This was business. My business. She wasn’t my concern, those men were.”

  His hands bit into my hips, as if he was trying to keep himself from shaking me. “Do you still not get it? Why I want to succeed so damn bad? Why I’ve been busting my ass?”

  I frowned at him, not sure where this conversation was going now. “Why?”

  “I want to take care of you, damn it! I want to make enough money to spoil you and pamper you and give you everything I know you deserve.” He leaned his forehead against mine and squeezed his eyes shut. My heart pounded inside my chest at the intensity of his words. “I want to be worthy of being yours.”

  I quit breathing.

  “Actions, right?” His fingers twined with my damp ones, and he pulled them against his chest. “Tonight was about securing our future. Her walking up on a conversation was not important enough to deter me from my goal.” Pulling back, he narrowed his eyes at me. “However, you continuing to taunt me by dancing with other men? Men who weren’t me?” He looped my arms behind his neck, and my fingers tangled in his thick hair. “I found that very, very distracting.”

  He nudged my legs apart with one of his, forcing his thigh between mine, then palmed my ass and pulled me close. He kneaded the flesh that filled his hands, and I wondered if he could tell I wore nothing beneath my dress. The filmy fabric of the skirt bunched between us as he tugged it up, until his hand cupped me, one finger sliding easily between my slick folds.

  “Is this for me, Sadie?” His thumb circled my clit, and I sagged against him, his other arm slipping behind me to hold me up, my head pressed into his shoulder. “Or is this for your mentor? Or Grady?”

  He stilled, waiting for my answer, his fingers touching me but not giving me what I so desperately wanted. I twisted my hips, seeking friction, and his arm tightened, not allowing the movement.

  “You, West.” I met his eyes with my own, knowing he could see the tears pooling. “I’m yours. But you don’t feel like mine.”

  PAIN, SHARP AND DEEP, slashed across his face and he withdrew his hand from my aching core, righting my dress until it once again swirled at my ankles. I swayed from the sudden loss of his touch, and he steadied me, but didn’t pull m
e close.

  Taking a jagged breath, he pulled my arms from around his neck, breaking our connection.

  “Fuck!” He turned from me, pacing the length of the small pool house. He passed the bathroom doorway, where we’d had our first kiss. It was hard to believe that only a season had passed since then. That four short months ago, he’d just been a surfer I’d thought was drowning, and now I was the one in over my head, hoping to be rescued. Knowing that without him, I might never recover.

  On his third pass, he stopped in front of me, one hand clenching and unclenching, the only outward sign of his agitation. His face was carefully blank. “How can you say that to me? How can you look me in the eyes, and say that to me?” His voice was tight, controlled. “I begged you to stay, sent you paper planes, dropped a client last minute to rush to Tennessee on the off chance you might need me, painted the fucking bathroom myself after hours, bared my soul to you, then gave you the space you said you needed. I loved you every way I knew how.”

  He lifted his hand as if to stroke my cheek, but then let if fall to his side limply, defeat slumping his posture. “What more do you want from me?” His eyes were glossy, voice raw.

  I bit my lip, because all those things were true, and yet . . .”I don’t like feeling that she can replace me every time I’m not there. That she does replace me. And that you’re okay with that.” Despite my best intentions, my voice cracked as I finished, and a few traitorous tears slipped down my cheeks.

  “Aubrey?!” Incredulity made his voice higher than normal. “She’s an annoyance I tolerate for the sake of my grandparents. And she could never, ever come close to your level, Sadie. I thought you understood that when we talked in Tennessee.” His thumbs wiped the wetness from my face and tipped my chin up, refusing to let me hide.