by Anne Marsh
Instead of answering her, he leaned forward and kissed her, a soft, gentle pressure right on her center. His tongue traced her through the silky fabric. Once. Twice. Her breath shuddered out as she relaxed into his hold.
The next few minutes got heated. At some point, in between his kisses and her moans, he managed to remove her panties.
“Very nice,” he said huskily, tucking the pink satin scrap neatly on the counter beside them. She bit back a small smile. That was her Cal.
He came back to her, and his tongue touched her. He kissed her and loved her, and he was in no rush.
Everything in her tightened, a drumbeat of yesyesyesyes pulsing through her body.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said hoarsely. She exhaled in a hard, sharp rush of air, her lower body clenching as his tongue found her again.
She could fall for a man like this. The thought stilled her, and Cal, being Cal, noticed. His head came up.
“You okay?” Concern darkened his eyes, his fingers stroking lightly over her. “Honey? You with me here?”
She was in so much trouble. This thing she had with Cal was temporary insanity. Chemistry. Whatever they called it, neither of them had called it permanent. She had no business falling in love with him.
“I’m fine.” She tugged on his shoulders, bringing him right where she needed him.
“Back,” she demanded.
“Bossy.” The laughter was there in his voice again.
“I’m blaming you,” she said. Then his mouth found her again, and he drove her crazy, until her whimpers and moans filled the kitchen and she called out his name, pulling his head closer, harder...more.
A long time later, he pulled her off the counter and sat down with her right on the floor. Apparently, he really didn’t have any chairs. She only hoped he had a bed. Or a mattress. Something. She might be desperate enough to make do with a sleeping bag. Since she was parked on his lap, she was fine, but he was the one sitting on the floor. In just a few minutes, he’d acquired a film of sawdust on his blue jeans. He hadn’t been kidding about living in a construction zone.
He rested his chin on her head. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
He wasn’t allowed to have regrets until later.
She blinked, still breathless. “Speak for yourself, but if you’re worried about your technique, we can try it again in about ten minutes.”
His rough chuckle had her melting all over again. “I’m suddenly feeling unexpectedly attached to these countertops.”
She thought about that for a moment.
“Is there anywhere you’re done remodeling? Just so we don’t put your remodel on hiatus?”
His arms tightened around her. “Funny you should ask. The bedroom. And the bath.”
“Excellent priorities.” She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to stir.
“Can I interest you in a change in venue?”
“Only if it doesn’t involve moving,” she groaned. “And if you promise you have an actual bed in there. The counter’s fun, but it’s hard.”
“Not a problem.” He scooped her up and headed down the hallway to where she hoped and prayed he had a bedroom. With a bed. “I’ll show you something else that’s hard,” he said with a wink.
* * *
CAL NOT ONLY had a mattress, but he had a bed frame. He’d paid a visit to one of those mattress stores with two hundred floor models, which was one hundred ninety-eight more choices than he’d needed. Hard or soft. That worked for him as far as choices went. He’d pointed, forked over a credit card and then spent more time arranging delivery to Discovery Island than he’d planned on.
It was worth every minute.
He set Piper down in the center of his bed, and she looked like she belonged. Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. He sat down next to her.
“Better?” he asked.
“I could definitely take a nap. For which I blame you.”
“Hey,” he said, with mock offense. “Credit, please. I’ll take the credit.”
Her hum of agreement said it all. And the look on her face—sated, he decided. She looked sated. Along with tousled and pleasured. It was a good look for her. He hadn’t planned on taking a nap—parts of him were definitely interested in continuing their kitchen activities—but they had the entire night in front of them and spending it wrapped around her seemed like a fine idea.
She cracked an eyelid but didn’t move when the bed swayed as he stood up. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, folded it and set it on top of the chair that was almost the sum total of the furniture in the room. One bed, one chair, which doubled as a table, and his duffel bag of clothes. The only other thing he had was the Maglite he used for bedside lighting. He didn’t need anything else. Bending over, he unlaced a boot.
Which apparently got her attention.
“What are you doing?” He lifted his head as he pulled off the boot and set it on the floor. She’d rolled over and the move pulled her sundress tight against her breasts.
“You said you wanted to take a nap.” He shrugged. “I’m obliging you.”
“Oh.” She chewed on her lower lip while he worked on the second boot. “Are you always so literal?”
“Do you always say stuff you don’t mean?”
His hands went to the button of his jeans and her eyes followed right along, which made him feel like king of the world. Maybe it wasn’t nap time, after all. Just in case she still wasn’t feeling what he was, he gave her a nice, slow show.
“Wow. I had no idea you were such a tease.” Her eyes didn’t move from his buttons, though, and he was lost. He had no idea how she made him feel this way, but he had a sneaking suspicion Piper had him wrapped around her fingers.
He popped buttons two and three. “Maybe I have hidden depths?”
She grinned at him. “Or maybe I could be convinced to not nap.”
He pretended to think, letting his fingers hover over button number four. “Are you convinced?”
Button number four went the way of his predecessors, and her eyes darkened. “It’s looking good,” she agreed.
The fifth button was really just eye candy, he decided, but he undid it anyhow, then shoved his jeans and his boxers down.
“See anything you like?”
“Over here,” she ordered, sprawling back and pointing to the patch of bed beside her. “Now.”
She was definitely a bed hog. He’d noticed that before, but chalked it up to his being in her bed. This was his bed, however, and she’d claimed two-thirds of the space. He paused just long enough to remove a condom from his wallet, before dropping his jeans back on top of the pile. Then he moved swiftly, scooping her up and making room for himself. He put the unopened condom on the chair. Not the smoothest move in the world but in the interest of being prepared, he told himself. Not because he was assuming or because he might be reduced to begging if this didn’t go the way he hoped.
God, he was hoping.
“You’re overlooking one thing,” he said.
“Oh?” She linked her arms around his neck. They were close enough now for him to rest his forehead on hers, to brush his mouth over her cheek. He did both while she tried to formulate her question. He was getting to her, he thought, fiercely glad. “What’s that?”
“This is my night. I give the orders,” he growled.
And there it was...the heated curiosity he loved about her. “Don’t let me stop you,” she answered and, yep, her words were pure command.
“I can see this is going to be hard for you.” He pressed into her and she laughed. He loved her laugh. The sound reminded him of margaritas on the beach, sweet but with a wicked kick, the strawberry and salt on the cool glass leaving a warm burn in his belly. Maybe they could try this again in Mexico sometime. If things worked out with Fiesta, and she was still talking to him after learning he’d bought her dive shop.
She stretched up into him, tugging him down.
“You’re wearing far too many clothes, if
we’re not napping,” he pointed out.
Lifting up, he reached for the hem of her dress. She helped with another one of those crazy-making wriggles. Her dress went up, catching on her shoulders, and she was completely, beautifully bare. No panties. He almost came on the spot.
“We forgot your panties in the kitchen,” he whispered roughly.
“Who’s this we, kemosabe?” She tugged the dress free and tossed it over the side of the bed. Her skin was bronzed from her time outdoors except for the white lines from her swimsuit. He traced the mark on her shoulder with his fingers, following the path downward until he cupped her breast with his hand. Her breathing sped up.
“So, no nap?” She curled a leg around his waist, rocking against him.
“Not for at least an hour.” His mouth needed to follow his fingers, he decided, starting with her shoulder and then going lower. When his tongue discovered her nipple, she groaned.
“Is that all you’ve got in you? An hour?” She was laughing at him. An answering grin spread across his face. He blew lightly on her nipple, and her heel dug into his back. He cupped her other breast with his free hand. Equal time sounded right to him.
“I’d be happy to keep you up all night and most of tomorrow.”
“Promises,” she said happily.
Since he had all the time in the world, he explored her breasts leisurely, kissing and licking them. Sucking the tips gently into his mouth. When he caught one hard tip carefully between his teeth and pressed, she arched up off the bed.
“Cal.”
He shifted up so he could kiss her as he moved his hands lower at the same time. There were definite advantages to forgetting her panties in his kitchen. Her hands were also as busy as his mouth. She reached between his legs and palmed his erection, and just like that, his universe narrowed to one woman with wicked hands. She stroked him from base to tip, squeezing gently.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She opened up for him, her tongue tangling up with his. Two mouths, two tongues, but he had no idea where he ended or she began. The poetic crap he’d heard before suddenly made a whole new world of sense. He could feel his body blending into hers, and guess what? It was good. Better than good.
So he kissed her and enjoyed every second of it. The rough, little sounds she was making—sexy whimpers and throaty gasps because Piper had always, always been happy to tell him what she wanted—said she was enjoying this, too. That she was right there with him.
Without breaking their marathon kiss, he pressed a finger into her slick folds. Up, then down, swirling his fingers slowly around her clit in ever smaller circles. He loved touching her there. When he slid a finger inside, she was hot perfection. She clenched around him, and he added a second finger.
She tore her mouth away from his.
“Now,” she demanded.
“My night,” he reminded her. “My rules.”
“Maybe you could make an exception?” She moved, and holy hotness, now the tip of him pressed against the opening of her, and he was fairly certain he couldn’t remember his name, let alone the rules of the game they were playing.
He did, however, remember just enough to reach over to snag the condom from the chair and tear it open with his teeth—grateful for preparation because making the return trip across the room would have killed him—and roll the latex down before sinking deep inside her. He made a rough sound, she hummed something back and then he had her pinned flat beneath him, the bed slamming into the wall because there was no holding back now, just him and Piper.
She looked beautiful spread out beneath him. There was no better sight. Just his woman, her arms open for him. Her face turned up toward his, so close there was almost no space at all between them. She made a sexy little noise as he drew back, her breath teasing his damp skin. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she hung on, a tiny, welcome sting of pain promising she was sure right there with him.
She moaned his name.
“Right here, baby,” he said roughly as her hands stopped grabbing his shoulders and cupped the sides of his face instead to draw him down for another heated kiss. That worked for him. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, mimicking his rhythm as he drove into her. Sexy. Hot as hell. She was all that—more than that—and he wanted to tell her how she made him feel, but no way was he letting go of her. So, instead, he kissed her some more because tonight he was all about the show-and-tell.
She felt so incredible, all liquid heat, her inner muscles squeezing him as she got closer. Being close with Piper was something else again. He wasn’t sure what the something was, but twice wasn’t going to be enough. He could do this over and over for the next fifty years or so.
Since he had only tonight, however, he’d make the most of every second. He pulled back and then sank into her again, deeper this time. Did it again. Piper’s body pulled at him, trying to hold on to him, as though that part of her was in full agreement with his over-and-over-for-half-of-forever sentiment. He could feel the sharp pulses as she got nearer, and he reached a hand between them, happy to give her what she wanted.
He braced his other hand against the pillow beside her head, loving the way her hair spilled over his fingers, her face close enough to touch. She smelled like green apples and soap, Piper and woman, a sweet, sexy scent with an edge that drove him crazy. Her skin was soft everywhere he touched, but beneath the softness was muscled strength. She’d worked herself back from her injury, and her body reflected the way she drove herself through life. She didn’t hold back, going all out for her goal.
She moved against him as he drove in and out of her, his hips meeting hers in a primitive closeness. Faster. Harder. Her body gripped his, squeezing him firmly, as his fingers plucked her tight, needy clit with each thrust.
“Cal.” His name was a raw moan, all feminine demand on her lips.
“I’m here,” he promised and gave her what they both wanted, slamming his hips against hers, driving himself deeper, quicker. He couldn’t hold on much longer, but he needed her to come for him. With him. He cupped her face, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was raw and urgent, watching her face as she climaxed because he loved seeing her come undone. As soon as she went over the edge, he let go himself, pumping himself hard and fast into her as she held him tight.
14
SHE’D TOLD HERSELF that winning wasn’t everything (okay, so Piper might have been kidding herself just a little there). Without the Fiesta contract, she had no hope of securing the bank financing, and Del would sell his half of the dive business. At best, she’d have a new partner who might let her continue to run things the way she had. At worst, she’d have a fight on her hands. It was hard to concentrate, though, when she would have rather been replaying yesterday’s memories of Cal. He’d kept her up most of the night, and it had been worth it.
When her cell phone rang, her heart leaped. Fiesta had finally come a-calling.
“Victory is ringing.” Carla nudged the phone toward her. “Answer it.”
Right.
She’d have her answer in four, three, two... She hesitated. It would be over. She and Cal would settle their bet, play out their remaining nights and then go back to...whatever it was they were before. Friendly competitors. Neighbors.
“If Fiesta hangs up, I’ll kill you,” Carla said conversationally.
Piper picked up the phone and tapped the talk button.
“Piper Clark speaking.” Her voice sounded sure and confident, and Fate had to be on her side, because none of the nauseating churn in her stomach came through in her voice.
Sal Britten answered, darn it. Maybe Fate wasn’t in such a good mood, after all.
“This is a difficult call to make,” Sal said and his self-satisfied voice made her question her decision not to let him drown. Okay. Not really, but letting him flounder for just a few more seconds might have improved his personality.
And then she processed his words and mouthed a really foul obscenity. Any conversation beginning wi
th those four words didn’t come with a happy ending.
Sal, however, was perfectly happy. He kept right on talking, not pausing for breath. “While we at Fiesta Cruise Lines were extremely impressed with your proposal, Piper, we’ve decided to go in another direction.”
Carla looked at her expectantly.
“I see, Sal.” She hadn’t missed his deliberate use of her first name. He was a patronizing asshole. And then she processed his words. “Dream Big and Dive has not been awarded the contract.”
Carla thumped her head down on the counter. Piper pretty much felt the same way, but it was like a diving competition where you’d been matching the leader on the scoreboard point for point and then, when the final scores flashed up on the board, you realized that some itty-bitty percentage of a point had gone to the other diver, who would get to stand on the podium instead of you. It sucked, but you put your game face on and congratulated the winner. Took a few photos on the sidelines, waved and beat the fastest, most graceful retreat possible to the locker room, because once you were in the shower, you had plausible deniability for the tears.
“We’re awarding the contract to Deep Dive,” Sal continued, oblivious to the way her world was imploding around her.
Of course. Cal would be a gracious winner. He always was. “May I ask why?” she gritted out.
Sal being Sal, he was delighted to pontificate further. “His performance on our last dive sealed the deal.”
Right. The dive Sal had screwed up so badly they had had to rescue his drowning ass. Apparently, her part in that whole save-his-butt endeavor either hadn’t made much of an impression or hadn’t made it back to the Fiesta board. Frankly, she was surprised Sal had brought it up at all.
“We extended the offer to him earlier today and he accepted.”
Even better. She was the insurance in case for some reason Cal turned down their offer. Fiesta hadn’t wanted to give her the blow-off speech until they’d been sure of him.
She didn’t do tears, she reminded herself. Crying wouldn’t help.
A dive slate appeared in her field of vision. “BRB,” Carla had scrawled. She nodded her head as she processed the shorthand for “be right back” and tried to concentrate on the blah blah blah coming her way from Sal. Since she was clearly not hired, she figured she was entitled to honesty.