“Not as much fun. Then I wouldn’t get to see you naked as you bathe in a lake.” He gave a roguish smile and opened the bacon, tearing off a strip and tossing it into the pan.
Her cheeks turned red. “You’re not going to watch me.”
“Sorry to break it to you,” he gestured toward the lake. “But in case you didn’t notice, there’re no shower curtains around.”
“Jackass,” she muttered and grabbed a bottle out of the duffle bag, then hurried toward the lake. “Does your environmentally safe soap work on hair?”
“You can use it on any part of your body you want.” He set the grate over the fire, then the pan on top of it.
“Don’t look,” she screamed and pulled off her clothes, striding naked into the water.
Good Lord in heaven. She was curvy temptation. The air rushed from between his clenched teeth and despite the fact he’d already bathed, he resisted the urge to strip naked and run in after her. Pick her up and wrap those long legs around his waist, then thrust straight into her hot center.
The smell of burning bacon snapped his attention from his growing hard-on. Not now, buddy. You’re cooking something else besides your hormones.
“Shit, this water is freezing!”
He glanced up from the bacon and caught her rising from beneath the surface, water dripping down her body. His gaze locked on the drop that seemed suspended on the curve of her breast, before rolling down her nipple and falling back into the lake.
Disappointment set in when the erotic vision was blocked. She lifted the bottle of soap in front of her, squirting some into the palm of her hand. She lowered the bottle again and he bit back a groan.
She moved her hand over her body, leaving a sudsy film over her upper torso. Her gaze lifted to his and she arched a brow, slipping her hand beneath the water. A second later her lids fluttered shut and she bit her lip.
The little witch. She did that on purpose.
“Bacon’s burning,” she called throatily, a hint of a smile in her tone. “And I don’t like mine burnt.”
He cursed and dragged his focus back to the breakfast. Hell, she was right. The meat was almost black on one side. Grabbing a pair of tongs from the utensil box, he quickly flipped all the strips.
Another splash sounded and he glanced up to see her disappear under water. She reappeared a moment later and swam toward the shore.
She strode out and he had a moment to drool over her naked dripping body, before she wrapped a towel around her.
“That water is freezing,” she said, teeth chattering.
“Get dressed. You’ll be fine.”
Her face, fresh and clean, scrunched together to display her displeasure.
“Will I? Because I’m pretty sure my nipples have turned to ice and are ready to break off.” She rushed past him into the tent again.
An amused laughed bounced in his chest and he shook his head. Lord, some of the things Allie said just made him raise his eyebrows. She was so random. A little crazy at times. And, hell, definitely had moments when she was almost offensive. And yet…he’d always loved that about her. And he didn’t really get offended by her swearing, no matter how many times he might chide her on the cursing habit.
He grabbed the tongs again and lifted the cooked bacon onto a plate, then went to crack a half-dozen eggs into the pan.
“Please don’t burn those as well.”
His lips twitched and he lifted his gaze to see her climbing out of the tent again. Attired in the pink sweat suit he’d bought and with her damp hair pulled back in a ponytail again, she was the image of squeaky-clean innocence.
Innocent? Yeah right. His gut twisted and his mouth went tight. That wasn’t exactly a phrase he associated with Allie much.
Allison swallowed hard, keeping her chin high as she walked the distance from the tent to the campfire. Butterflies still ran rampant in her belly.
It had been damn hard to go run naked into that lake in front of him. But once she was in and had seen his gaze on her—the hot desire there, she’d responded. Had even found herself flirting like she was some professional exhibitionist. Damn it. What the hell did Clint do to her? The last thing she wanted was to encourage him into thinking they’d end up in bed together.
She’d been surprised to wake up this morning alone in her own sleeping bag. She’d been convinced he would try and seduce her again. Hell, it wasn’t like he made it a secret those were his intentions.
And if she admitted it, she was a little disappointed he hadn’t followed through. But could she really see it though? Sleeping with Clint? What happened after? And did she really want to risk damaging a friendship that had already been rocky for the past year?
Allison circled the fire and curled into the empty chair beside him. Through lowered lashes she took in his profile as he cooked their breakfast.
Hard jaw line, a nose that wasn’t quite perfect because he’d broken it as a teen, but the flaw just made him that much sexier. Then there were those eyes, so blue and piercing. She slid her gaze down again to his lips, pursed with consternation as he moved the eggs around in the pan with a spatula.
Her cheeks warmed and she pressed a hand to her face, closing her eyes to the memory of his mouth moving over her body. He’d made her lose all control the other night. Had turned her into the most wanton, desperate, couldn’t-think-of-anything-but-him-inside-her kind of woman.
“They’re not burned.”
Flustered, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze. “What?”
“The eggs.”
“Oh. That’s fine.” She shook her head to clear the memories of last night. “I think I’m too hungry to care if they were.”
Her stomach growled and she leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over another.
“What’s the plan today?”
“We’re going canoeing.”
“Nice. Are we going to sing campfire songs first at breakfast?” she drawled, glancing out at the lake. Her breath caught.
God, it really was amazingly beautiful with the sunlight sparkling on the blue water, casting diamond like shimmers over the lake.
He chuckled. “If you’d like. Hey, could you grab the coffee press out of the bag over there?”
With a sigh, and anticipating the warm beverage in her hands, she stood and walked over to the bag.
“How do you make coffee camping?”
“In the press. You boil water, which I’ve already done, put the grounds in the press and then pour the water on it.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You ever use a coffee press?”
“Nope. I use a place called Ooo La Latté.” She pulled out the press and walked it over to him.
“Thanks.”
Their fingers brushed, and a spark of heat passed between them. He jerked his gaze to hers, his indrawn breath sharp. She watched his pupils dilate.
She took a quick step backward, her cheeks warming further. His free hand curled around hers, stalling her hasty retreat.
“Allison.”
Her pulse jumped at how soft her name fell from his lips, the way he stroked his thumb over the palm of her hand. Her head spun and her knees turned rubbery.
“The eggs,” she choked out desperately. “They’re burning now.”
He released her with a sigh and jerked the smoking eggs off the fire.
She folded her hands into tight fists and bit her lip.
“Sorry. Looks like most of the breakfast is burnt.”
She feigned a casual shrug, even though her pulse still fluttered from his touch. “If it digests, we’ll survive.”
He dished her up a plate of food and gave her a considering glance. “Look at you. Toughening up after just one day.”
“Toughening up?”
“Sure. I think the city chick might be getting broken in.”
She snorted and accepted the plate he handed her, before sitting down. “You show me an outlet for my hair dryer and then we’ll talk.”
“You don’t need it
. It’s drying just fine.” He grinned and started making the coffee.
By the time he handed her a steaming mug full a few minutes later, she’d already scarfed down half her breakfast.
“You were hungry.” He grinned and tucked himself back into the folding chair and stabbed at a chunk of eggs. “Camping does that to you. Makes even burnt food taste good.”
She grunted and took another sip of coffee. The warm drink spread heat through her body and she gave a groan of approval.
“I love that.”
“What?” She took another sip.
“That little sound you make when you’re enjoying something,” his voice roughened. “You make it a lot when I touch you.”
“Can we not talk about that?” She lifted a burnt piece of bacon and chomped down on it. “It should never have happened between us, Clint. And please don’t count on a repeat performance.”
“Don’t count on it?” His mouth curved upward. “Kitten, that’s nothing compared to what you can expect tonight.”
He was so damn confident they would become lovers. Too confident. Her heart skipped a beat.
Full now, she stood and dumped the few last bites of her eggs in the makeshift garbage bag.
Clint stood as well, though she noticed he’d managed to take out his entire plate of food in half the time.
She strode back toward the tent, but he caught her arm before she passed him, spinning her around.
The air rushed from her lungs as he pulled her body snug against his.
He cupped her chin in his calloused hands, firmly but without hurting her, and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. The heat and possessiveness there sent her heart fluttering in her chest.
Her knees threatened to buckle and she barely held back a weak groan.
“How about a morning kiss,” he murmured softly, before dipping his head down and covering her mouth with his.
Lips, soft and firm, moved against hers, before his tongue traced the seam of her mouth. He tasted of coffee and man. Primitive and natural like the forest surrounding them.
This time she was unable to stop the soft groan, and his tongue slid past her lips to take advantage.
His palm against her back molded her body into his, as the delicious friction of his tongue against hers brought goose bumps to her flesh.
Though she knew this could only lead to something she wasn’t emotionally prepared to explore, Allison couldn’t push him away.
He angled her mouth to deepen the kiss. The palm of his hand slipped under her sweatshirt to move over her bare back.
Dampness gathered between her legs and a fierce throbbing built, until she gasped against his mouth and thrust her hips against his. Her head spun and the world around them faded. Her entire axis balanced on the man holding her. On Clint.
He lifted his mouth from hers, just barely and pressed his forehead against hers. His ragged breathing matched hers and she knew he was struggling with control as much as she.
Allison drew in an unsteady breath and didn’t move, couldn’t begin to think about tearing her body from the heat of his. Already her nipples had tightened almost painfully, and through the layers of clothing, brushed against his hard chest. She knew he felt it, how could he not?
He released her chin and moved both of his hands to bracket her waist. Clint traced his fingers over the bare flesh he’d exposed between the waistband of her sweats and her top before sliding up and dragging her sweater with it. He moved slowly over her ribcage and stopped just under the swell of her breasts.
He moved his thumbs against her flesh and she tensed, the air stranded in her chest. Her nipples ached, seemed to tighten further at the promise of his touch.
The word please hovered on her tongue. To beg for him to move the couple of inches upward, to have his fingers stroking and toying with the sensitive tips.
His fingers remained where they were, swirling circles against her flesh. His warm breath feathered across her mouth, mingling with hers.
It was almost like they were at a stand-off. To see who would break first. Would she do it? Beg him to touch her or let loose the ragged groan that she barely withheld? Or would he finally just do it—touch her like she wanted him to?
His lips brushed just barely across hers again and another rush of moisture gathered inside her.
“Please.” The word left her lips as half gasp, half groan.
His growl was a masculine sound of pure triumph, echoing in her head, just before he slid his fingers up her breasts to capture the tips through her bra.
He covered her mouth hard with his, pinching her nipples between rough fingers and squeezing. His touch was far from gentle, and damn it, exactly how she loved it. He knew her. Somehow he knew exactly what she wanted.
He sucked her tongue into his mouth, grazing his teeth across it before soothing it with his own.
Spirals of pleasure moved up through her body, dizzying her and robbing her of all ability for coherent thoughts. He pushed down the cups of her bra and his hands cupped her naked breasts. His mouth tore from hers and he looked down at her.
“Those nipples,” he muttered thickly. “Damn. So pink and pretty.”
Her nipples scraped against the roughened texture of his palms and she whimpered, her knees definitely turning to liquid this time.
Clint’s head lowered, the stubble on his chin grazed her flesh, before closing his mouth around one aching tip. Her eyes drifted shut as pleasure seared through every inch of her. She gripped his shoulders, not trusting herself to remain upright as he suckled her.
Wanting to see his head against her breast, Allison opened her eyes again. And shrieked.
Clint snapped his head up in shock as she shoved away from him. She stumbled half-naked, still screaming, to one of the camp chairs and climbed onto it.
Laughing now, Clint tried to shoo away the raccoon rummaging through their bag of garbage.
“You can come down, Allie,” he said a moment later, grabbing the garbage. “I’ll put this in the car. Can’t believe that little guy was so bold.”
“Little? That thing could’ve eaten a cat,” she grumbled, pulling the lace cups of her bra back over her breasts and tugging her shirt back down.
After Clint returned he looked at her and sighed, the disappointment on his face evident as he noted she’d adjusted her clothes on again.
He glanced toward the water. “Well, since the raccoon killed the mood, we may as save the rest of the fun for tonight and get ready to canoe.”
Chapter Ten
Allison stared at Clint, watched that veil of control slip back over his persona. He was always able to turn it on and off like a switch. And he actually thought she’d just immediately agree to have sex when he snapped his fingers and declared it the right time.
Irritated with him and herself, she ground her teeth together and climbed off the chair.
“Why don’t you grab the windbreaker out of the duffle bag in the tent?” His voice seemed altogether too calm as he moved away from her completely. “I’ll soak our dishes and then get the canoe set to go. We’ll head out in a few.”
Her body still humming from his touch and her mind screaming with frustration, she moved past him toward the tent.
She found the blue windbreaker in the duffle bag and tugged it on over her sweat outfit. Good Lord. Sweats. When was the last time she’d worn them? When was the last time she’d worn pants period?
The image of the Betsey Johnson blue teardrop dress hanging in her closet flickered through her head. With a wistful sigh, she tugged up the zipper of the ugly jacket and pushed it down on her hips. God, the thing was huge and anti-feminine.
She unzipped the tent again and climbed out without any difficulty. Clint was right about one thing, she was starting to get the hang of this camping thing.
And the air. He’d been right about how amazing it was. She closed her eyes and drew in another breath. The smell of trees—what were they? Pine?—and the crisp clean smell of the la
ke filled her senses.
“Ready?”
She glanced up to where he stood near the water’s edge. Damn, he looked good. So nature boy. Framed in front of the glistening lake, he was all man. The blue shirt he wore stretched taut across his broad chest and his calves were all muscle beneath the long khaki shorts.
She turned her focus to the canoe behind him. Her pulse skipped and she blinked with dismay. She could not be excited about going out on the lake, could she?
“Allie?”
“Ready.” She gave a brisk nod and started toward the lake.
“Hang on,” he held up his hand to stop her. “Can you run back to the car and grab my camera? The wind’s not too bad today and I’d love to take some shots with the lake still.”
Without answering, she turned and headed back to his car.
She grabbed the camera on the front seat and was about to shut the door when she spotted his cell phone. Not the keys to his car, but definitely a key to getting help if she decided she wanted it.
Allison flipped it open, ready to dial. Her heart sank at the three little words staring back at her. No service available.
She slipped the cell phone into the pocket of her windbreaker, reassured just having it on her.
“Got it.” She slammed the door and hurried back to the lake.
“Great, thanks.” He took the camera from her and their fingers brushed again.
More tingles raced through her body, but she tried harder to ignore them.
“Here, let me help you into the canoe.” He took her hand and assisted her as she stepped into the boat. “You ever been in one of these before?”
“Can’t say that I have.” She walked to the end and sat on the wooden seat, facing out toward the lake. “Is there no motor?”
“No motor crafts allowed on this lake.” He climbed in and set the boat rocking.
Her chest tightened and she gripped the wooden edge of the boat. “Are you sure this thing is safe?”
His laugh reverberated in the vast openness around them. “People have been using these babies for centuries, Allie. They’re perfectly safe.”
Seducing Allie: Seattle Steam, Book 3 Page 10