Under the Surface

by Kira Sinclair

His lips twitched. “You better have something on under those clothes that you don’t mind getting wet. Strip.” He spun his finger around in the air in the universal sign for hurry it up.

  Immediately, Loralei’s back went up. Her fingers snapped to the fly of her shorts and tore at the button and zipper. With a jerky roll of her hips, her shorts dropped to the sand at her feet. Grasping the hem of her shirt, she whipped it over her head and tossed it at him.

  The bastard ducked, snatched the soft cotton out of the air and slung it around his shoulders as if that was precisely where he’d wanted it in the first place.

  His eyes took a leisurely tour of her body. Loralei became acutely aware of just how much her suit revealed. Not that she’d ever been the kind of woman to care. Before tonight. She was comfortable in her own skin, or always had been.

  And, hell, he’d seen more of her the other night.

  Something about the way Jackson looked at her made every molecule in her body respond, desperate for the feel of his hands on her again.

  But that wasn’t what tonight was about.

  Shaking away her reaction, Loralei cocked a hip and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Unfortunately, she’d apparently miscalculated, because instead of having the desired effect of putting him in his place, it only made the heat in his eyes kindle higher.

  Stepping closer, Jackson crowded into her personal space. His hands wrapped around her upper arms, spun her until her body was surrounded by his heat.

  Back to front, his thighs bracketed hers. Her rear settled into the cradle of his hips. She could feel his strength, not just behind her, but soaking straight through her skin and permeating her bones. Nudging her knees with his, he walked slowly, pushing her in front of him, until the gentle lap of the water touched her toes.

  Suddenly, Loralei couldn’t have cared less who was holding her. The only thing that mattered was the water in front of her. Sure it was clear and shallow at her feet, but a little ways out...it was so deep it could swallow her whole. Suck her under and consume her.

  Tension wound every muscle in her body so tight she was afraid they would all snap and she would lose it. Just...lose it.

  That was the last thing she wanted to do in front of this man. Again. She’d already experienced enough humiliation in his presence to last her a lifetime.

  Yet, she couldn’t stop it.

  The panic welled up, filled her chest and stomach and head. Her lungs burned.

  Something soft brushed her ear. And a commanding voice murmured, “Breathe, Loralei.”

  Until that moment she hadn’t been aware that she wasn’t. But the second Jackson issued the demand, her mouth opened, her lungs expanded and blessed oxygen flooded her cells.

  That first draw was heaven, her chest rising and her back arching beneath the weight of the relief and release that came with the exhale.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered against her skin. His breath was warm and soothing. But Loralei shook her head anyway.

  “Close. Your. Eyes.”

  Before she realized what she was doing, her eyelids were slipping shut.

  “I have you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. You’re safe.”

  It had been so long since anyone had said that to her. Not her grandparents. Not her father.

  She wanted to believe Jackson meant it. They might be rivals on those ships anchored not far away, but tonight he was more friend than enemy. And instinctively she knew that no matter what else was between them, he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

  Slowly, he nudged one foot and then the other. She could feel the water lap first at her toes, then ankles, then calves.

  She began to tremble, slight tremors she couldn’t control no matter how hard she tightened her muscles. Her entire body ached with the force of trying to will away the panic. It wasn’t working.

  “That’s it. You’re doing great.”

  When the water hit just above her knees, Jackson said, “Open your eyes.”

  He’d guided her out around a small bend she hadn’t noticed when she’d drove the boat in. Sand and dense vegetation surrounded them on three sides. In front of them the ocean spread out, sparkling beneath the rising moon. She couldn’t see their ships in the distance anymore. The small cove was protected. Secret.

  Just theirs.

  It was beautiful. Calm and peaceful. Loralei stood surrounded by Jackson’s heat and support, and tried to let that peace wash over her. It didn’t quite work.

  He let her stand there, not pushing or impatient, and waited for some innate sign that she was ready to take the next step.

  Loralei had no idea how long they stayed like that in silence, but eventually Jackson dropped a hand to her hip and nudged her forward. Her feet shuffled against the sandy floor. His fingers branded her through the thin material of her bathing suit. Her body reacted, going liquid and warm. Which was probably why she didn’t notice the water rising steadily up her legs until it hit midthigh.

  Distraction. Apparently, that was his tactic. And it was working. She hadn’t been this deep in water without hyperventilating since she was nine.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked, the rough timber of his voice rippling through her.

  She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.

  Jackson shook his head. She felt the motion, his upper body shifting against her and sending delicious waves of sensation across her skin. “I need words, Loralei. You have to talk to me so I know you’re okay.”

  “What if I don’t want to talk to you?”

  “Tough,” he said, his voice warm with suppressed laughter.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’m...okay.” And she was, which surprised the hell out of her.

  “Excellent,” he said before scooping up a handful of water and flinging it at her.

  Loralei gasped in surprise, jerked forward and threw her elbow back.

  Jackson grunted when she landed a hit straight to his middle. He doubled over, bent her with him and somehow managed to submerge her shoulders deep into the water at the same time.

  Every molecule of air rushed from her lungs as if they’d collapsed. Her mouth opened and her lips moved, but nothing came in or out.

  Anticipating her reaction, Jackson was right there. Grasping her face, he brought them nose to nose, forcing her to look at him and nothing else.

  “You’re fine, Loralei. I have you. I promise. Breathe.”

  Her lungs obeyed him, expanding and filling on a huge gulp.

  When she could speak again, she wheezed out, “You bastard.”

  He just grinned at her. “You’re in, aren’t you?”

  She was. Fully submerged up to her collarbones with the water lapping gently at the curve of her throat.

  But she wasn’t about to admit that to him.

  “You going to hold my head under the water next?” she groused and glared at him, which was difficult when he was busy staring at her through those twinkling, mischievous eyes.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he said, his words filled with mock sincerity.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Her doubt seemed to sober him. The smirk slipped from his lips and his fingers tightened around her shoulders. “I wouldn’t, Loralei. This was like ripping a Band-Aid off all at once. It hurts like hell and leaves you breathless, but it’s ultimately the best method. Forcing your head under water is another thing all together.”

  Loralei wanted to believe him. She honestly did. But part of her just...couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

  As if sensing he shouldn’t push her on the subject, Jackson asked, “How’s the water?”

  For the first time, Loralei realized it was... “Amazing.” It was perfect against her suddenly overheated skin.

  Jackson held her that way, his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, his legs entwined with hers beneath the surface of the water. And she marveled at how comfortable she felt with him. Maybe it was the fact that this man was probably the first person she’d e
ver been completely honest with about her fear. Or maybe it was just him, transferring that sense of calm and ease in the water that came from years of experience and practice. Whatever it was, Loralei was grateful for the gift.

  Even if it was coming to her from him.

  “Ready to try more?”

  Loralei hesitated. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I won’t push you in, but you will have to put your head under the water.”

  An uncomfortable knot pulled hard and tight in her belly. The familiar anxiety spun up, engulfed her entire body. There was no way Jackson could miss the sudden way every muscle stiffened.

  But he didn’t push. Instead, he ran comforting hands to the nape of her neck and dug his thumbs into the divot there, releasing the pressure and tension.

  “How about we do it together?”

  “How do you propose to do that?”

  One corner of his lips turned up, not in that cocky grin or mischievous smirk she’d come to expect, but with something more. Heat, promise, some impish fun.

  “Like this.”

  Before she could blink, he brought their mouths together. The kiss surprised her. It was different from the ones they’d shared before. Oh, there was sizzle, but beneath it, something soothing.

  He immediately pulled her into the moment, nibbling, coaxing, until he was all she could think of. His tongue licked across her lips, requesting entrance. It didn’t occur to her to refuse.

  Hers parted and his tongue plunged inside, sweeping and claiming. His fingers tightened in her hair and she arched closer against the solid warmth of his body.

  Pulling back, he whispered, “Take a deep breath.” He sealed their mouths together again after she complied and then slowly pulled them under.

  Cool water flowed over her, but instead of making her panic, it relieved some of the heat and pressure. It felt good against her over-sensitized skin.

  They were only down a few seconds, not nearly enough time for her brain to process fully, before he was pushing them back up again. And pulling away, a wary look in his eyes as if he expected her to deck him.

  Maybe she should.

  But her fingers and arms wouldn’t have obeyed her even if she’d wanted to.

  She was panting, but not from fear.

  His thumb brushed across her wet cheeks, sweeping away droplets of water. That simple, single caress had her knees buckling. Without his arm around her she would have collapsed back into the water.

  “Easy,” he said, the vibration of the word rolling through her chest.

  Loralei blinked, trying to force her brain back into action. She should be upset. Why? Oh, yeah.

  “Bastard,” she whispered, the word holding absolutely none of the heat she’d intended.

  Jackson’s lips curved into that damn smirk. And all she wanted to do was kiss him again.

  “I knew you could do it. Wanna try again? On your own this time?”

  She did. She actually did. Loralei gave a small nod, but then followed it up with a bigger, more certain one, because if she was doing this, she was doing it. No half measures or second guessing.

  “Good. Take a deep breath. And remember I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Why was Jackson Duchane the first person in her life she’d ever believed when he uttered those words? It wasn’t as if he’d done anything to earn her trust.

  Maybe it was because he hadn’t done anything to earn her trust. He’d been manipulative. Thrown her off a boat. Saved her life. Antagonized and accused.

  What he hadn’t done was pull any punches.

  Filling her lungs with air, Loralei braced herself, let her legs fold underneath her and sank like a rock to the bottom of the sandy inlet.

  Her butt bounced off the sea floor. Her mouth opened in surprise and water rushed in. Before she could panic or process, she was being hauled back up, air chasing after the water.

  She sputtered for a second, too worried about breathing to notice she was tucked against Jackson’s hard chest for a few moments.

  And then it was all she could think about.

  He had one arm behind her shoulders, the other beneath her knees. Her arms were tight around his neck. Water lapped against her, a gentle caress that made her think about his fingers sliding across her body, awakening every cell.

  “Are you okay?”

  Slowly, Loralei shook her head. Not even close.

  9

  DISGUSTED WITH HIMSELF, Jackson waded through the waist deep water toward the sandy shore. His jaw ached from clenching it tight.

  Somehow he managed to push “I’m sorry,” between his grinding teeth.

  Loralei shifted in his arms, accidentally brushing the curve of her ass against his half-hard erection. He pulled in a sharp hiss.

  Apparently she was oblivious to what she’d just done. “What are you sorry about? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She squirmed again, shoving her fingers deeper into the hair at his nape and gripping tighter. If she didn’t stop he was going to have two choices, drop her butt-first into the shallow water at their feet or lay her out across the soft sandy beach and finish what they’d started two nights ago.

  He had a preference, but didn’t think Loralei was in the right frame of mind for that.

  Better if he kept his focus squarely where it belonged. “You weren’t ready and I pushed you.”

  She frowned, tiny ridges forming between her gorgeous green eyes. Tonight they were darker than normal, or maybe that was just because of the moonlight.

  “Not true.”

  Her breath puffed out, slipped across the skin of his neck. Moist warmth hit the cool droplets of water clinging to him and sent a bolt of need straight to his cock.

  “Dammit,” he cursed softly.

  His grip, where his fingers curved into her hip, tightened. A few more steps. The moment his feet hit dry sand, he let her go. But that was a true miscalculation because instead of falling away, her body slithered down. Her breasts, barely contained by the tight Lycra of her suit, rubbed across his chest.

  Her bare thighs brushed his hip. And her hands stayed clasped together behind his neck. The pressure made his back curve as her feet hit the ground.

  They were centimeters apart. Her mouth was open. Inviting.

  And he was a man who could only take so much.

  Pulling her to him again, Jackson kissed her. This time there was no ulterior motive beneath the joining of their mouths. It was pure, unadulterated desire. Heat blasted through him. Loralei sighed, a soft puff of sound that caressed his lips.

  Her leg lifted, wrapped around his waist and he was done. Gone. Any good intentions disappeared like so much smoke.

  He tugged at the strings of her bikini top until the damn thing finally gave. It fell into the water that lapped at their ankles.

  Somehow both of Loralei’s legs found their way up his hips and around his waist. She climbed him, the entire time nipping, licking and sucking, her tongue stroking his.

  Jackson wasn’t complaining. At all. In fact, he let out a deep groan when she squeezed her thighs and rubbed the cleft of her sex against his throbbing erection.

  He could feel her heat through the thin layers of clothing separating them. Wanted desperately to sink deep inside her.

  Loralei arched back, pulled her mouth from his. A breathy, desperate sound ground out of her throat. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. And he wanted to make her do it again.

  Reaching down, he sucked the dark pink tip of her breast into his mouth. Her breath hitched, the rough sound melting into something more when he scraped the edge of his teeth across the puckered flesh.

  God, she tasted good. A combination of sunshine and the salty sea. He wove his fingers through her thick hair, letting the soft strands caress his skin.

  He couldn’t get enough of this woman.

  Which was a problem. But one he’d search for a solution to later. Right now his brain couldn’t concentrate
on anything but experiencing her.

  She writhed against him, arching her back and silently asking for more.

  Dropping to his knees, he plunged them both into the shallow water. It surrounded them, warm and welcoming. Her dark hair fanned out around her head, floating in a sunburst.

  Her skin was flushed, glowing with the same desire that radiated from him.

  Her lips, already swollen, parted, begging for more. But she was far from acquiescent, not waiting for him to give her what she wanted. He’d hardly known her any time at all, but already recognized that wasn’t Loralei.

  Grasping his waistband, she went searching for the string tucked inside. The backs of her fingers grazed the hard length of his sex. Jackson sucked in a groan, his hips surging forward, wanting more.

  A knowing smirk touched her lips and her eyes twinkled. God, she was gorgeous.

  Her fingers intertwined with the string, pressing the rough edge of it against him and lazily dragging it across his swollen flesh.

  Jackson fought the urge to brush her hands out of the way and untie his shorts himself, caught between the need climbing higher and the exquisite torture of her touch.

  Slowly, she tugged on the braided cord, her other hand delving beneath his waistband to palm him. A groan welled up from deep inside his chest. He was so lost in the pleasure of her fist sliding up and down that he barely noticed his shorts splash into the water.

  Rolling them both, Jackson set her on top, parting her thighs wide and settling them on either side of his hips. But she didn’t let go. Her grip on his cock only tightened, her thumbnail scraping gently across the sensitive head. He hissed through his clenched teeth.

  Grasping her hips, Jackson hooked his thumbs into her bikini bottoms, dragged them down her thighs. Somehow she managed to shift and shimmy until they were gone, all while continuing her slow, measured torment.

  God, he wanted inside her. But he wanted to taste her first.

  Flexing his hands, Jackson lifted her straight into the air. Dropping backward, he let the soft, sandy floor catch him even as he settled her thighs around his ears.

  The scent of her arousal surrounded him, thick and heady. “Gorgeous,” he growled before nuzzling her swollen flesh.