Tame Your Heart: A Small Town Romance (Bounty Bay Book 6)

by Tracey Alvarez

  She pictured herself in a spit-stained T-shirt with a yowling red-faced baby in her arms, waving goodbye to Kyle and a stunning blonde clinging to his arm as they headed out into the bright city lights. The image, crystal clear, seared into her brain.

  “Don’t wait up,” he’d tell her. Then because he was such a good guy, he’d add, “Your turn for a hot date next Friday night while I sit with junior.”

  And the blonde would awww and hug his arm tighter so her perky boobs, encased in a skimpy, single-digit-sized cocktail dress, squished prettily against his biceps.

  He’d turn his smoldering gaze from the woman at his side to her, and there’d be no smolder in his eyes then, just pity. They both knew Tui wasn’t going anywhere next Friday night, because there was only one man she wanted, and that man considered her a roommate at best and an object of embarrassed pity at worst.

  “You’re so kind to her,” she’d hear the blonde stage-whisper as they left the house.

  “She’s the mother of my child,” would be his casual response. “But, baby, you’re the woman of my dreams.”

  Jealousy, burning like acid, flooded Tui’s gut and she floundered upright in the water, which had somehow gone cold. She must’ve dozed off again. She splashed the chilly water over her face, shuddering as the last vestiges of the daydream—nightmare?—slipped away.

  Son of a…

  Tui climbed out of the bathtub and toweled herself dry. She briefly considered getting dressed again, then dismissed it. Kyle had shown her to one of the guest rooms earlier in the evening, announcing that he’d take the one down the hall. Considering she felt as murderous as a woman waking from a cheating dream and blaming her sleeping man for his imagined indiscretions, she thought it wiser to have an early night.

  Securing the fluffy white towel around herself, she padded through the now silent house into the living area to tell him she was headed to bed. Alone.

  Darkness crowded through the huge windows overlooking the now ink-black lake, kept at bay by the soft glow of a couple of strategically placed lamps around the room. Her gaze was immediately tugged toward the man seated with his back to her on one of the low couches. One long-fingered hand propped up his head as he appeared to be studying a collection of fat flickering candles on the recycled wood coffee table in front of him. Either her ninja skills were improving or the flames had hypnotized him, as Kyle didn’t react to the whisper of her bare feet.

  Wise to the fact she was naked beneath the towel, Tui approached the opposite end of the couch, mentally testing the tone of “I’m off to bed now; I’m beat,” in her head to ensure she sounded properly exhausted and not in any way desperate for him to take charge and ravish the hell outta her.

  Her mouth opened at the same time her gaze zipped to his face, brain analyzing the smoothed-out lines of his forehead, his closed eyes with girlishly long lashes, and the slightly parted mouth, the firm line of his lips softened by sleep.

  She stood watching him, her toes curling damply on the cool tile, goose bumps rising on her arms. Candlelight, an unopened packet of chocolate-covered cookies on the coffee table—he’d remembered her favorites were Tim Tams and he’d somehow conjured some up—and a fuzzy blanket beside him should she feel the cold after her bath.

  She’d been so caught up in her own head that she hadn’t considered what an emotional toll the day must’ve taken on him. He’d had her back from the moment they’d left Bounty Bay that morning, throughout the uncomfortable confrontation with her family in which he’d faced her father and brothers with quiet confidence, and then somehow known a night away from real life was what she needed when even she hadn’t known what she’d needed.

  But he’d been right.

  She moved between the couch and coffee table, straddling his stretched-out legs. She needed this time-out with him. She needed this opportunity to reexamine everything she knew about Kyle Griffin and attempt to figure out whether it was her heart or head that really knew what kind of man he was.

  “Kyle?”

  At the sound of his name, Kyle’s eyes popped open. His gaze seemed to encompass all of her at once, from her damp hair curling wildly, to the white towel hugging her curves from breasts to just below her butt. Mouth kicking up in the corner, he continued a lazy head-to-toe examination of her.

  “Power napping,” he said finally, scrubbing his fingers along his jaw. “It’s underrated.”

  She felt her mouth twitching into a smile. “And have you woken up refreshed?”

  Heat flickered in his gaze, crossing the short distance between them to sear the remaining air left in her lungs. “Very.”

  Yet he made no move to touch her. And God, did she want his hands on her body—all of her body. She moistened suddenly dehydrated lips, super-aware of her legs still braced either side of his and the caress of night air drifting up between them. She should feel chilled, but instead erotic warmth spun delicate tendrils through her nervous system, sizzling low down in her core until she wanted to shift away so she could squeeze her thighs together.

  Since that action would be kinda obvious, Tui tightly folded her arms—as added security to prevent ripping off her towel and pouncing on him. “It got quiet out here. Thought you must have gotten lost.”

  “I don’t get lost.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You and every other male on the planet.”

  A flash of white teeth in a Red Riding Hood’s wolf smile as Kyle leaned forward and stroked two fingers down her outer thigh. From the towel edge to her knee where he paused, a line of fire branded her skin and she couldn’t prevent a gasp.

  “It’s true.” He continued to run his fingers up and down her leg. “Drop me in a foreign city and within five minutes I’ve established a set of landmarks to navigate from A to B.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  To his ears her voice probably sounded like a woman unconvinced, whereas she heard a woman who was floundering in rich, gooey caramel, trying to keep from sinking beneath the sweetness.

  “As a kid,” he said, swapping from outer thigh to inner, “I remember my dad saying once it was like I saw the world differently, like there was a three-dimensional map in my head and all I had to do was follow it.”

  “You were Google Earth before there was Google.”

  She was proud she managed to speak in a complete, coherent sentence because, oh Lord, his skimming fingers were making her muscles dissolve into mush. But he stopped at the level of her towel each and every time.

  “Something like that. So trust me when I say I won’t get lost. I know my way around your landmarks.” He gave her a lazy wink and cupped the back of her knee, giving her a gentle tug forward. She wobbled a step closer, the width of his strong legs between hers parting her thighs even wider.

  She braced both hands on his shoulders for balance, reveling in the hard muscles under her fingertips. “That’s pretty corny.”

  “Too early for dad jokes?”

  “Yeah.” The thought of impending parenthood should’ve had the same effect as a dowsing of ice water, but instead butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Kyle was going to make a great dad one day.

  Before pregnancy hormones had her swimming in images of Kyle carting around a chubby dark-haired infant in a baby carrier, Tui gave in to her trembling legs and lowered herself into his lap. Her towel rode up, her sensitized flesh grazing the crisp fabric of his cargo shorts.

  “Take off your shirt,” she ordered.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, but he hauled off his shirt without further comment. Smooth, tanned skin. She twined her arms around his neck, and he splayed his hands either side of her waist and pulled her closer, notching their lower bodies together. Where they fitted oh-so perfectly.

  Her heartbeat breaking speed records as it raced around her chest, Tui dipped her head and traced her lips along the short stubble shadowing his jaw. Pinpricks of sensation spread from her lips to deep inside her, amplified to an all-consuming roar as her mouth found his.

 
Hot, luscious kisses coaxed a groan into her throat at the slide of his tongue into her mouth. She tasted a hint of sweetness—dark chocolate—and before she could even begin to formulate a teasing quip about him stealing a cookie, his big hands molded the shape of her breasts under the towel. Arching her spine, she felt the towel slip and pool around her waist. Her nipples budded in the cooler air, jutting into the slightly roughened skin of his palms. He stroked thumbs over her nipples with the lightest of touches—not tentatively, but with a gentleness that surprised her.

  He broke the kiss, leaning back so he could study her face, his hands still cupping her breasts. “Are your nipples sensitive?”

  Hell yeah, they were sensitive. And damn near marching with brightly colored signs, begging for his touch. For his mouth.

  “A little.” She managed to breathe.

  He scraped his right thumb over the puckered tip, eliciting a shudder and hard clench in her womb. “I’ll be gentle,” he said, then bowed forward, replacing his thumb with his warm, wet mouth.

  Her hips pistoned forward, grinding into him as his tongue flickered against her nipple and his lips closed over it, drawing her into a downward spiral of blissful sensation.

  Hot, luscious kisses this time focused on her breasts instead of her mouth, and Tui could barely think straight.

  “Please,” she said on a moan that made her toes curl. Please don’t be gentle because your gentleness will unravel me.

  But gentle he was, lavishing his attention from one breast to the other, hands caressing up and down her back until remaining upright was almost impossible since her very spine had turned liquid. She sagged, breathless with the growing ache between her legs—wedged against the hardness between his. The feel of him wanting her made her hips arch again and she rotated them in a tight circle, wanting to touch him in some way since her hands were busy keeping his mouth in place.

  He released her nipple on a ragged breath. Before she could protest—and her body protested vehemently—Kyle flipped her onto her back, bearing her down into the couch cushions with her wrists pinned above her head. Their gazes met above the jagged rise and fall of her breasts.

  She was a blank page, waiting for him to either write a love song on her skin or to tear her up until parts of her fluttered like ashes in the wind. Tear me up, she silently ordered, trying not to read too much into the furrows dividing his brows, the intensity with which he studied her face as if she were made of spun glass.

  Tenderness. Connection. A sense of the world shifting on its axis.

  Nuh-uh. No way. She wasn’t falling down the rabbit hole, wasn’t falling for Kyle Griffin. Enough dewy-eyed playing chicken with the man. Only one thing would break the spell he seemed to be casting.

  He released her wrists to cradle her face, his fingers stroking her cheek as he dipped his head to kiss her again—a drugging kiss that made her not falling for him stance seem as thin as tissue paper. Her stomach rolled, sending the butterflies inside tumbling. She gripped his shoulders and shoved—hard.

  Immediately, Kyle jerked his mouth from hers and pushed his body away, concern for her written in every line on his forehead. She wriggled out from under him, then with both palms pressed to his chest, shoved again so he was sitting upright.

  Kyle got with the programme when her fingers worked busily on the strained fly of his shorts.

  “Lady’s choice, huh?” he said as she worked his zipper down.

  His chuckle transformed into a rough groan as she peeled back his boxer briefs and freed him. One firm stroke then another, and he was putty in her hands, arching his spine, pushing himself into her hand with his head thrown back, tendons straining against the tanned skin of his throat. Keeping one hand firmly wrapped around him, she straddled his thighs and, bracing herself, guided him to brush against her entrance.

  His eyes flew open. “Tu? Are you sure? There’s a condom in my wallet.”

  They’d talked previously about sexual health, and as for accidental pregnancy…the thought made her give an internal eye roll.

  “I’m sure. Are you?” She teased him with her wetness, sliding him back and forth through her slick folds.

  He grabbed her hips in both hands, fingers digging into her flesh as he groaned again. “God, yes. So sure I’m about to forget about lady’s choice and nail you on the damn floor.”

  Tui seated herself on him, taking him deep inside. The sensation of stretching and being filled caused the smug snicker on the tip of her tongue to be swallowed by a moan that came from somewhere deep in her gut.

  Sex, she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Great sex—fan-bloody-tastic sex, let’s be honest—but that’s all it is. That’s all it had ever been before.

  The hands gripping her hips loosened, fingers trailing up over her rib cage to cup her shoulders, drawing her closer to him.

  “Look at me,” he ground out, his hips shifting so he somehow worked himself inside her even further.

  A whimper escaped her mouth as her nipples grazed his chest. She clenched around him, her eyes flying open to an expression on his face that sucked all the oxygen from the room. He wasn’t looking at her like she was delicate and breakable. His stare, his beautiful intense gaze that more often than not haunted her dreams, spoke of her worth to him. Challenged her to admit his worth to her.

  Tui laced her fingers through his hair. The thick strands felt like raw silk, the expensive kind. The oddest thoughts of wedding anniversary gifts floated into her mind. Paper, silk, pearls, rubies, and finally, diamonds.

  What had he become worth to her? Was he a one-year paper? Or a sixty-years diamond?

  She rose partway onto her knees, slid down with delicious friction, then pressed her lips to his in a kiss that spun out in timeless bliss. Setting the pace, they rose and fell together, stroke for stroke, slow and steady as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did. Maybe they could have that sixty years if what she felt wasn’t just muddled-up pregnancy hormones. If what he felt wasn’t just muddled up daddy-to-be hormones.

  “Paper?” she whispered against his mouth when they finally came up for air.

  He pulled back, blinked. “Huh?”

  She squeezed around him, slowly rotating her hips. Watching the steady flame of heat between them melt away the confusion in his eyes. He thrust into her again and her head fell back.

  “Diamonds,” came out on a moan.

  “Baby, you can have anything. Everything.”

  He clutched her waist in his big hands, guiding her into a rhythm that told her who was really in control. He took what she offered but gave back tenfold, his deft fingers sliding between her legs to pleasure her as they moved.

  Close, so close, the first ripples spread through her from the inside out until she trembled with wanting it all. Wanting him.

  Her climax slayed her inhibitions, and she cried his name over and over. Strong arms banded around her and he buried his face in her throat, rasping out his release.

  Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze skimming over the smooth skin of his shoulder to the curve of his ear and soft relaxation of his jaw.

  Tui felt something rip away from her heart, like stitches that had been left too long holding an open wound together. He tore her apart, but something in his hazel eyes as they met hers with a dreamy smile on his mouth put her back together again.

  Definitely diamonds.

  Chapter 17

  A guy could get used to this. A lazy lie-in next to a beautiful woman after a night that had rocked both their worlds. Kyle snorted himself awake, stretching out a hand to the other side of the bed. He found it empty, and his snort of morning humor turned into a groan. Don’t tell him she’d taken the walk of shame back to the other guest room in the middle of the night?

  His fingertips skipped over cool cotton until they found a glimmer of warmth on the sheets. She must’ve been sleeping next to him, but she certainly wasn’t there now. He sat upright, gaze drawn to the faint morning light streaming in thr
ough the windows. He hadn’t closed the drapes last night when they eventually made it to a horizontal surface other than the living room couch. He couldn’t mask a smile, wondering how he’d ever look Claire in the eye again while remembering Tui spread out and naked on her three-seater.

  Outside the windows, the lake was a glassy mirror reflecting the first rays of sunshine breaking through the cloud cover, dusting the hills beyond in a golden glow. Movement from the shore snagged his attention, and he swung his legs out of bed, crossing to stand in front of the windows for a better view.

  The movement was Tui, and in the early morning light she was shadows and darkness. A pale glimmer of white from his T-shirt she must’ve collected from the living room. Dark hair spilling loose down her back, skin that looked like burnished gold beneath the T-shirt hem. He sucked in a breath and felt vaguely voyeuristic as he watched her standing there, molding his T-shirt to her body with her arms wrapped around herself. Voyeuristic or not, he couldn’t prevent himself from continuing to study her every movement. She took a few slow steps toward the water’s edge, and in one swift move, hauled off his T-shirt.

  Bloody hell, she was skinny-dipping?

  His heart shot into his throat, pounding there like a kettle drum at the sight of her wading into the water. He knew from experience the water would be chilled to a goose-pimpling degree, but she didn’t hesitate, sinking gracefully under the water with barely a ripple. She surfaced a short distance away, slicking her long hair back over her shoulder. Then she turned, arching her chin toward the house, a Mona Lisa smile creasing her mouth. Because of sunlight on glass, she probably couldn’t see him, but he saw her. Damn, he saw her, and for the rest of his life he wouldn’t be able to unsee her.

  Kyle yanked on his shorts and in bare feet strode through the house and out onto the deck. Tui had swum farther into the lake by this time, and he kept a close eye on her as he jogged down the steps and across the grass to the lakeshore. Reaching the water’s edge, the spooky connection between them kicked in, and she paused in her smooth breaststroke, turning once more toward land.