Crossing Lines

by Alannah Lynne

  “Boots. B-O-O-T-S. Tell me about your boots.”

  Sam froze with her beer lodged against her lips. “My boots?” Her high-pitched squeak echoed around the bottle as flames licked at her neck and spread over her face.

  Shit, he hadn’t been coming on to her at all. He was talking about her work boots. It was her gutterbrain that turned an innocent question into sexual play. She squeezed her eyes shut and drained her beer.

  “I don’t know what to say about my boots any more than I did my boobs.” She laughed nervously. “Other than to confirm, yes, I’ve had them for a while… although not quite as long as my boobs. And no, I didn’t get them just for this job.”

  Kevin reached into the cooler, drug another Lite out of the ice, and popped the top. “Here, have another. This is getting good.”

  She dropped her head in shame and reached for the bottle. “One more, but that’s it since I didn’t get to finish my lunch. I’ll eventually need to drive home, and you may decide sooner is better than later.”

  He grinned and winked. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  Men smiled and winked all the time, but when Mazze did it, an avalanche of excitement rolled in her belly. After her massive misstep, however, she needed to take a breather and regroup before making another advance.

  She sipped her fresh beer and nodded to the kids. “I still feel bad you and Spencer left the beach on my account.”

  Spencer ran the length of diving board and jumped into the water next to Michaela, sending a tidal wave over her head.

  “Does he look like he’s having a bad time?”

  To Spencer, he said, “Hey, what’s the rule about running?”

  “Don’t do it,” Spencer said before directing another splash at Michaela. Not to be outdone, she turned her back on him and kicked her feet, soaking him in a barrage of water.

  “I’m sorry you’re hurt, but this is much better than the beach.” His brow drew into a sharp V and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her angry ankle. “You’re new in town, right?”

  “Yep. Been here about two months.”

  His gaze slipped to her face. “Do you have family here who can help you over the next few days?”

  “Sure.” She grinned and nodded to Michaela. “She’s a spectacular nurse.”

  He sighed and a dull expression settled over him. “Not exactly what I had in mind. What about friends?”

  “My best friend Cheri, from high school, lives here.” Not that Cheri would be any help this weekend. But when she got back…

  “Will she be able to help you get around the next few days?”

  She rolled her eyes and readjusted the neck strap on her bathing suit. “I’m not an invalid. It’s just a sprain.”

  “So…” He chewed his lip and slowly nodded. “That’s a no. She’s not able to help, or you won’t ask?”

  “Sheesh, you’re a pain in the ass.” She laughed at his unapologetic shrug. “No, she’s not around. She’s out of town at a… convention.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning at the thought of all the new toys Cheri would bring back from her annual conference. She said they revealed the new items at these events, and Sam was a little too anxious to preview… and sample the new goodies.

  “A convention.”

  Sam giggled. “Yep.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”

  Heat simmered along her jaw and her heart gave a thwump as she chewed her lip and considered the pros and cons of telling him the truth. This would be a good opportunity to see what he thought about her best friend selling sex toys… and of Sam being her best customer. Would he think she was a kinky freak and lose interest, or would he want to come to her house and play?

  After a glance confirmed the kids were out of earshot, she leaned toward him. In a quiet voice, she said, “She has a day job, working for the city. At night, she does in-home parties.”

  “Like Mary Kay.”

  Her grin grew. “I don’t think Mary Kay ever sold anything like this.”

  “Interesting.”

  The longer and more closely he watched her, the more nervous she got.

  After several pounding heartbeats, he leaned to the side and met her halfway between their chairs. “Tell me what she sells.” His eyes darkened as his gaze locked onto hers. “Exactly.”

  Whew… even though she sat in the shade, his penetrating stare rocketed her temperature ten degrees higher. This was what happened when you played with matches. What started off as a simple tease burst into a wildfire, trapping her in its midst.

  She scratched her temple and brushed a piece of hair away from her eye. “Adult entertainment.”

  His eyebrow kicked up a notch. “Your friend’s a hooker?”

  “No!” She huffed and frowned.

  It was more of a glare, really, since she suspected he already knew the kind of party to which she referred, but for whatever reason he seemed intent on hearing her say it out loud. She didn’t know if he was just being a jerk, or if he was testing her to see how timid and bashful she might be about this kind of thing. Either way, this might be an opportunity to turn the tables and be the lightning strike, rather than the kindling.

  She pushed her sunglasses to the top her head, made her eyes heavy and sleepy, and deepened her voice to make it thick and rich. “She sells sex toys at private parties. She’s at a conference, learning how to use them.”

  He grinned at the first part, then jerked his head in surprise and blinked. “I can think of a million ways to learn to use them.” His lids dipped and the pulse in his neck jumped as he visually caressed her. “A conference isn’t one of them.”

  “Yeah…” She bit down on her bottom lip and stared at his mouth. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, but did nothing to contain the extreme heat engulfing her. Desperate for relief, she ran the base of the cold bottle across her forehead… down her temple… along the side of her neck and over her shoulder.

  Kevin muttered something she didn’t understand as he followed her every move. The tension between them grew so thick and taut, it could’ve been used as a tightrope.

  After several uneasy moments, he said, “How about a swim to cool off?” His voice was huskier than before, and she realized he’d moved Spencer’s towel over his lap.

  She wasn’t a cocktease, but after Michael’s hatchet job, she’d spent a lot of time questioning her desirability as a woman and her ability to excite a man. Kevin’s strong reaction boosted her ego and fragile self-esteem and fueled her naughty little fire.

  “Great idea.” Especially since it got both of them a little closer to naked.

  She sat upright, crossed her arms over her stomach, and took hold of the hem of her T-shirt. She didn’t need a degree in stripology to understand the art of a slow reveal, so she made her motions as drawn out and exaggerated as possible. Slowly, she lifted her shirt over her stomach… uncovered her black bikini top… then slipped it over her head. Without being obvious, she glanced at Kevin to check his reaction. A thrill shot through her as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a rough swallow and his lips parted, sucking in air.

  She protected her ankle by dangling it off the side of the chair, then pushed to her knees and unsnapped her cut-offs. With thumbs hooked inside the waistband, she wiggled side-to-side and eased the shorts over her hips and down her thighs.

  Before she got them completely off, Kevin shoved to his feet and stormed off, yammering in a foreign language. She froze, afraid she’d gone too far or miscalculated his interest. But as he crossed the slate patio, she noticed he still had the towel covering the front of his shorts and his breathing was harsh and raspy.

  He opened the door on the small utility building that housed the pool mechanicals, tossed a couple noodles to the kids, then grabbed several floats the size of small thrones. He dropped the floats in the water at the pool’s edge, then slowly made his way back to her.

  When he surrendered the towel to the chair, she couldn
’t help but glance at his shorts.

  Oh, hell yeah. He was glad to see her… And she wanted to see more.

  “Can you make it to the pool with help, or do you need me to carry you?” His voice was strained, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. He seemed to be clamping down on his self-control with an iron fist… which was close to losing its grip.

  Had they been alone, she would’ve kept up the momentum. But, they weren’t alone. A fact that was driven home when Spencer bolted from the pool and charged across the deck.

  “Yay, you’re swimming with us!” He threw his arms around Kevin’s waist and tugged, trying to drag his unmovable uncle into the water.

  Without saying a word, Kevin picked Spencer up and dropped the squealing child into the pool like he was dumping a load of laundry down a chute. Spencer came up sputtering, then splashed in retaliation as Kevin walked away, laughing.

  “After seeing that, I think I’ll go it alone.”

  The corner of his lip kicked up as a sliver of sun broke through the tree branches and reflected off his eyes, making them twinkle. His voice, however, was not light or playful. “I’d handle you with more care.”

  She gulped as the pulsing attraction arced between them again and propelled her off the chair toward the cool water. At least that was her plan. The second she put the tiniest measure of weight on her foot, numbing pain shot through her ankle and up her leg. Her knee buckled and gravity did the rest, but Kevin snaked his arm around her waist and caught her before she landed.

  “Holy sh-sheet, that really hurts.”

  “It doesn’t help to change shit to sheet,” he said, his mouth next to her ear. “They’re smart kids. They can figure it out.”

  A shiver raced down her spine as warm breath brushed her ear and neck. She nodded erratically, trying to regain her physical and mental balance. “Baby steps. It takes a long time to change a lifetime of habits.” She drew in a fortifying breath and tried going foot-to-ground again.

  Kevin stood by, patiently waiting for her to test the ankle, but when it became obvious the pain was too excruciating, he swooped her up and headed toward the stairs.

  Startled by the sudden upswing, she squealed and locked her arms around his neck, ensuring if he tried to toss her overboard like Spencer, she’d drag him in with her.

  His eyes, no longer red and watery, were sharp and focused, and his nostrils flared as his jaw tightened. She wanted to run her hand along the stubble and ease the tension, but feared the touch would be too intimate… or the proverbial last straw that snapped his control.

  Even though she started this game of seduction, she suddenly doubted her ability to ride this bull and wondered if she wouldn’t have been smarter sitting this one out.

  Chapter Eight

  Kevin’s eyes crossed and nearly rolled back in his head as he carried Samantha to the pool. Watching her try to put weight on her injured foot was painful. Having her cradled against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, the fruity flavor of her shampoo making his mouth water and driving him to the edge of insanity with each breath, was excruciating.

  The sex toy talk, which sparked a plethora of interesting images and scenarios, had been the proverbial bullet in the chamber. Her boob-swinging, ass-swaying, burlesque-style undressing spun the cylinder. Her nearly naked body plastered against his was like squeezing the trigger in this sexual game of Russian roulette.

  The only difference… the consequences of this high-risk game were on a delay, and the survival of his integrity had yet to be determined.

  The eventual endgame had already been decided: They would have sex; it would be fantastic. Waiting two weeks to start their physical relationship sounded good in theory. In practice, with an attraction this intense, the only way to make that happen would be to avoid each other, completely.

  As he stepped into the cool water and descended the steps, he wondered if Lizbeth was even a factor. For all practical purposes, they were over and done—

  You weren’t too done last night.

  Jesus, how many times would he have to deal with the regret and fallout of the previous night? While sitting in the chair until sunup, watching her sleep and hating himself for being so weak, his conscience beat him bloody. How much more did he need to repent?

  He decided to tackle the situation from a different angle. Would Lizbeth even care?

  If he thought ending their relationship prior to the wedding would be too painful, it was probably a safe bet she’d have a problem with him sleeping with someone else.

  Would it matter to Samantha?

  He glanced at the woman in his arms… the one studying his jawline and lips with hungry curiosity. He didn’t know her well, but he suspected she’d never knowingly get involved with a man already involved with someone else. Even if the other relationship were in its final countdown.

  Goddamn him, anyway. Erik was right. He was too nice. Had he ended things with Lizbeth months ago, when the “Dead End” signs first appeared, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.

  His other option was to throw a few speed bumps at Samantha to slow her down. Several times he’d caught her chewing her lip and tilting her head, as if looking at him from the corner of her eye, checking his reaction. He didn’t understand why a strong, beautiful woman would be insecure, but she seemed to be worried about rejection and he didn’t want to add to her concern. For that reason, he kept his mouth shut and let her believe he was unattached.

  He blew out a breath and wrestled with his conscience. In his heart, he was one hundred percent available—free as a penny lying on the ground, waiting to be picked up. The reality was slightly different, but if he twisted it around…

  She tugged the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your ugly facial expression isn’t reassuring me I won’t get tossed on my ass like Spencer.”

  “Sorry.” He flipped on an it’s-all-good smile. “I’m the poster child for ADD. My mind wanders like a curious pup.”

  He laid her on the float and went back for her beer. Handing it over, he said, “Okay, m’lady. Anything else you need from your cabana boy?”

  “That,” she said with a grin as she dipped her chin and flipped her gaze to his, “is a loaded question.”

  He groaned, gritted his teeth, and tried not to focus on the word “load” or think about the one he’d blow if she kept this up. He only had so much willpower, and what little remained was seeping out by buckets.

  Her actions seemed innocent enough as she swirled her fingers in the water, then gathered a handful and splashed her neck. But as the rivulets slid across her soft, creamy skin, his breath turned choppy and erratic and his thoughts were far from innocent. One streak ran down the side of her neck and puddled in the hollow above her collarbone, like a pool of water, tempting a man dying of thirst. Another stream slipped over the crest, peaked at the swell of her breast, then streaked down the valley of her deep cleavage.

  “Tu non sei un folletta; ma un angelo del sole.”

  “What language is that?” Michaela asked, doggy paddling over.

  He dragged his gaze away from her beautiful mother and smiled. “Italian.”

  Michaela, reaching shallow enough water to stand, dropped to her feet. Bobbing on tiptoes, she moved her hands back and forth to maintain balance and asked, “What did you say?”

  Spencer, also fluent in Italian, would’ve been able to translate, but he was in the midst of launching a sneak attack on Michaela and hadn’t been listening. Kevin glanced at Samantha, who wore an equally curious expression, and scrubbed a hand down his face.

  Hell’s bells. The temptation to lie was strong, since they’d never know the difference. But that went against his nature, so he took a deep breath and told the truth.

  “You’re not a pixie; you’re a sun angel.”

  “What?” Sam frowned.

  “I wanna be a angel.” Michaela paused and her little brow dipped as she thought it over. Turning to her mom, she asked, “What’s a pixie?”

  Sa
mantha ran her fingers over the top of her ears, as if checking for points, and scrunched up her nose. “Nothing good.”

  “It’s not bad,” he said, defensively. Shit, he should’ve lied. “When you were all up in my grill the other day, so feisty and…” He held his hands out toward her. “Well, you’re tiny. With your blond hair and spunky attitude, you reminded me of a pixie. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

  Her eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh, right.” She shrugged. “I’m okay with sun angel, though.” She brightened and smiled mischievously. “Better yet”—she threw her head back like an obnoxious starlet and shook her ponytail—“a sun goddess.”

  She bent a knee, dipped her hand in the water, and tossed a handful over her chest. Her nipples tightened as the cold water splashed over them; his cock tightened in response.

  Desperate for an escape from the temptation to run his tongue along the water trails and suck the tight buds into his mouth, he let his knees go weak and submersed himself in the cool, refreshing water. He opened his eyes and watched Michaela and Spencer’s tiny legs kick back and forth as they doggy paddled and fought over the noodle.

  When he ran out of breath and wasn’t able to hide any longer, he pushed off the bottom and rose from the water, arms held high, like Poseidon emerging from the sea, and descended upon on them with a mighty roar. One kid squealed—God, he hoped the shrill sound came from Michaela and not his nephew—the other screamed—not much of an improvement over the squeal—and they swam away toward the safety of the deep end.

  Go figure.

  * * *

  After a few more attacks on the kids, Kevin left them to entertain themselves and turned his attention to Sam. He pressed his back to the wall and stretched out his arms, hanging on the side of the pool like a barnacle.

  Paddling her sun goddess throne over to him, Sam smiled. “Thanks for inviting us over. I still feel bad I ruined your time at the beach, but this is amazing.”

  “Yeah…” He couldn’t agree more, but he let the sentence die, avoiding deeper trouble. “We can do it again tomorrow. Minus the sprain.”