by Pam Godwin
“That sounds great.” Now comes the hard part, and my insides twist. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He’s going to say the words, and I’m going to repeat them back. While Trace sits next to me. If I leave the room to say it, it’ll be obvious, and it’s too late anyway, because Cole just sighed, which means…
“I love you.” His voice reverberates through me, full of commitment and honesty—the only way to love.
I close my eyes as the potency of three syllables swells the chambers of my heart. Then I turn my head and meet Trace’s gaze, speaking to both of them. “I love you, too.”
The next day, Trace takes me to brunch in his Maserati GranTurismo, with its metallic charcoal paint and Italian leather seats. I don’t give a shit about sports cars, but I’d have to be dead to not appreciate the view of him driving it.
With a hand draped over the steering wheel, he works the gear shift with sleek confidence. His blond hair combs back in a textured style that somehow looks both windblown and photo-shoot ready. A brown suede jacket hugs his upper body in all the right places, and fitted black slacks accentuate the bulge of his groin so distractingly I can’t stop myself from reaching over to feel the shape.
His fingers capture my wrist before I make contact.
“I’ll pull this car over right now.” His hand tightens, twinging my bones. “And fuck you on the hood, on the side of the road, in front of God and everyone.” He releases my arm. “Try me.”
I click my tongue. “That sounds illegal.”
“What you’re doing to me should be illegal.”
A swallow hangs in my throat. “What am I doing to you?”
“There are a lot of ways to hurt someone.” He trains his ice blue eyes on the road. “Only you can inflict pain and make me crave every minute of it.”
“I…I’m hurting you?” My chest collapses, stuttering my breaths. “I don’t mean to, Trace. I’m so sorry.”
“Never apologize for this.” He rests a palm over the thick outline in his pants. “No matter how painful, it’s worth the relief I’ll find with you in the end.”
I sense he isn’t referring to sex, but rather something deeper, stronger in the indefinite future. It’s moments like this that break me. I’m running from the most important question of my life, while falling victim to the greatest irony.
Because I’m not looking for an answer.
I already have two.
Lifting an arm over the back of his seat, I stroke the soft hairs on his nape. “I hate this.”
“I love you, and I’ll wait. Rest on that assurance.”
“Thank you.” I lean my head on his shoulder and try to absorb his strength for the remainder of the drive.
We eat at a quaint little bistro, where we whisper and smile and share lingering glances while enjoying locally-grown foods and strong coffee. Then he takes me home and walks me to the front door.
I left my car at the casino, but Cole’s motorcycle sits in the driveway. I wonder if he’s in the basement or waiting just inside the door.
“You want to come inside and say hello to an old friend?” I run my hands across the front of Trace’s suede jacket, shivering in the chilly air.
“I’ll pass.” He wraps his arms around me, warming me.
“I miss you already.”
His scowl twitches, and he stares at my mouth.
Lifting on my toes, I cup my hands around the back of his neck and kiss him.
He cradles my face and kisses me back, inhaling hard and deep as he swallows my breaths, my whimpers, and the whole of my heart.
Then he steps back and licks his lips. “I’ll be waiting.”
Trace’s kiss lingers like a fever as I enter the house. I desperately need a moment to cool down before seeing Cole. One look at my puffy lips and pink cheeks and he’ll know. I don’t want to hide from him, but guilt sends me darting to my bedroom.
When I reach the hallway, music blares from the basement, cluing me in on his whereabouts. I sigh with relief and slip into my room.
The sheets on my bed tangle around a six-foot-long expanse of empty mattress. He sleeps on my side when I’m not here?
The urge to curl up in his scent pulls me onto the bed. I remove my heeled boots and bury my nose in the bedding. Oh God, I love his manly, woodsy smell. I want to sleep in it.
I assured Trace a hundred and one times today that I feel fully rested. But as I lay my head on the pillow and pull the covers around me, my limbs grow heavy. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a second.
I pass out instantly and sleep like the dead. When I wake, the sky beyond the window has faded to a muted gray. And I’m not alone.
A wall of heat covers my back, and bands of muscle wrap around my body, enfolding me in a tight embrace from behind.
“How long have you been in here with me?” I turn my head and kiss Cole’s bare bicep.
“A couple hours.” He kisses my neck, tickling my skin with his whiskers.
We lie on our sides, legs bent together, both in jeans. He’s shirtless, making me wish I was, too, so I could feel more of him. Hell, I wish we were naked, like we were in the shower only two days ago.
It’s only been two days since I’ve seen him.
“It feels like a lifetime.” I turn over and touch his face, his rugged, stunning, chiseled face.
“A lifetime?” His breaths fan against my mouth.
“Since I did this.”
I lean in slowly and angle for a kiss, tilting my head, parting my lips, and savoring the anticipation lining his expression. Right before I make contact, I swoop down and scrape my teeth against his nipple.
“Danni!” He jerks back, pushing against my forehead and warding me off. “What the fuck?”
I shift to my knees and anchor my hands on my hips. “How can a tough guy like you have such sensitive nipples?”
“I just…do.” He falls to his back and flattens a palm over the imaginary pain. “You know I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t even leave a mark.”
He lifts his hand to sneak a peek then reclaims my eyes, looking all kinds of butthurt.
“Let me try again.” I can’t hide my grin. “You’ll like it.”
“Hell no. I’d rather lick the floor.”
“Big baby.”
“Get off my nuts.” He narrows his eyes, scanning my face. “I take it you’re feeling better?”
“Much.” I reach my arms over my head and bend side to side, stretching my waist. “What are we doing tonight?”
“You’ve been sick—”
“I’m not sick. I just ran myself into the ground. I’m all better.”
It’s true. I feel renewed and ready to rock.
“We should stay in bed.” His forehead grooves, and he sits up, inching toward me.
“Was that your big plan?”
“No.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, letting his touch linger on my neck. “My plan requires physical activity.” He raises a brow. “Outside of the house.”
“Count me in.” I move to climb off the bed, but his hand catches my arm, stopping me.
Kneeling on the bed, he yanks me against his chest and curls his fingers around my neck.
“I should probably…” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Give you…” His lips brush the other corner. “A full body checkup.” He breathes against my lips. “Just to be sure you’re healthy.”
“I bet your checkup includes a rectal exam.” I bite his bottom lip. “Am I right?”
“Christ.” He grips my butt painfully hard, driving his fingers against the seam of my jeans. “I want to pound your fucking ass.”
“As lovely as that sounds, how about you tell me where we’re going instead?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“What should I wear?”
“What you have on.” He smacks my backside and slides off the bed. “We’ll grab something to eat on the way.”
Two hours later, I’m standing in the last place
I ever expected—a locker room. Wearing something I never thought I’d wear on a date in November—a string bikini.
Cole hasn’t explained shit since he rolled his motorcycle into the empty parking lot of the scuba dive shop. He ushered me into the locker room, told me to change, and handed me the white bikini from his bag—a bikini he stole from my closet. Then he left.
I adjust the strings on my hips, double-knotting the double-knots.
Who am I kidding? He only has to flash his dimples and these itty-bitty bottoms will fall right off.
Deep breath, shoulders back, I head into the pool area to see what he has in store for me.
The fume of chlorine stings my lungs as I stroll along the indoor Olympic-sized pool. 15 ft decals mark the edges all the way around, but it looks a lot deeper than that.
It must be after business hours, because there isn’t a soul here.
I take that back. A man stands on the far side near the entrance to the store, gripping Cole in a one-armed hug. They smile and launch into an animated conversation, full of arm gestures and laughter.
About twenty-paces away, I round the final corner of the pool. The men turn their heads and fall silent.
Cole’s acquaintance has the deepest tan I’ve ever seen, and he’s stacked with so much brawn his shirt and jeans strain at the seams. His round head is shaved bald, but his face is youthful. He’s probably a couple years older than me. Around thirty? That would make him the same age as Cole and Trace.
He carries himself the way they do, exuding that heavy-handed, macho, alpha vibe. Maybe they’re all somehow connected through the military?
His eyes seem friendly. And interested. Oh man, he’s really staring at me.
I shift my attention to Cole and the single piece of clothing he’s wearing. Spandex dive shorts stretch across his thighs and sit low on his hips. They’re so tight they look painted on, and I feel a little lightheaded and winded in the presence of all that nude skin and ripped muscle. He’s only been home for a couple weeks, and he already appears bigger, bulkier, healthier. And hotter than hell.
As I close the final few feet, his focus fastens on my face. It’s a heated, captivated focus that hitches my breath and wobbles my balance.
His head turns toward the other man, but his eyes stay on mine, as if he intends to resume his conversation but he just can’t look away.
“Are you going to introduce me?” I touch his arm.
He blinks and scraps a hand through his hair. “Yeah, uh…this is the owner of the scuba shop. He’s—”
“Richard Hickey.” The man wipes a big paw on his shirt and holds it out to me, grinning.
I shake his hand. “Hi, Rich— Wait. Did you say, Richard Hickey?”
His grin falls. “Yes.”
“As in Dick Hickey?”
“As in Richard Hickey.” He narrows his eyes.
“But Dick is short for—”
“Leave the poor guy alone.” Cole shakes his head. “He’s heard that shit his entire life.”
I’m sure he has. “I’m Danni, and now my name sounds so boring and forgettable.”
“I suspect there’s nothing forgettable about you.” Richard gives me a friendly once-over.
“Careful.” Cole’s expression tightens.
“Roger that.” Richard holds his hands in the air and backs up. “I’ll show you the equipment.”
“So…” I follow them toward a storage room. “I assume we’ll be scuba diving in that huge-ass pool?”
“Yes.” Cole reaches back and grabs my hand.
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
In the storage room, Richard leads us through a maze of shelving stacked with fins and tanks and other things I can’t name.
“Where did you learn how to dive?” I ask Cole.
Richard stops and casts a confused look over his shoulder.
“What?” I glance between them.
They exchange a tense moment of eye contact before Richard cracks.
“Shit, man.” He grimaces. “I assumed she knew.”
“Assumed I knew what?” I release Cole’s hand and step in front of him with a fist on my hip and anger heating my face.
“My background in…” He gestures at the surrounding scuba equipment and studies my expression. “You’re pissed.”
“How can you tell?” I grind my teeth.
“Richard.” Cole slides a hand over my shoulder. “Tell Danni how we met.”
The bald man folds his arms across his chest. “BUD/S training.”
“I’ve heard that term before.” I furrow my brow. “It’s a military thing.”
“Basic Underwater Demolition / SEAL training.” Richard huffs a pained laugh. “Seven months of hell.”
“You were Navy SEALs together?” I take in the scuba gear with new eyes.
“No, actually.” Richard leans against a metal shelf. “I got my ass handed to me in the third phase of training. Crashed and burned. So here I am, running a dive shop.”
“And you?” I squint at Cole. “You passed the training?”
Richard bursts into laughter. “He blew through it with his eyes closed. Hell, he could’ve taught it.”
“You and your damn mouth.” Cole glares at the other man. “This is why you didn’t meet her five years ago.”
I turn to Richard, since he seems to be a well of helpful information. “So Cole was a SEAL and—”
“No, sweetheart.” He rests a hand beneath his chin, studying Cole. “He was assigned to a team, but someone plucked him from the force and poof! He disappeared. I don’t know anything beyond that. It was above my pay-grade.”
“I see.” I shift back to Cole, unable to keep the suspicion from leaking into my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me about the SEAL thing? That isn’t classified information.”
“Because I was never a SEAL.” He brushes a thumb along my jaw. “But I brought you here to share a piece of my training with you. Do you want to learn?”
He doesn’t offer an apology or any further explanation. He just looks at me with dimpled affection, as if sharing this experience with me means so much more to him than bragging about his SEAL training.
“Yeah.” I release a breath and just like that, I let go of my anger. “Lead the way.”
Richard hauls out the good stuff from a locker in the corner of the storage room, explaining that even his best equipment doesn’t compare to the gear Cole used in training and on the job. He stacks everything on a long table, naming them off. Masks, BCD vests, air cylinders…
I hover beside Cole as Richard brings out more gear. The shit on the table piles chest-high, and I pick through it, a little overwhelmed. I hope Cole doesn’t expect me to learn all this tonight.
Drifting closer to my side, he ghosts his fingers across the front of my thigh. My gaze darts to Richard, who stands on the opposite side of the table, rambling on about his miserable time during BUD/S.
“All these years and you’re still fucking whining.” Cole grins at Richard, and his touch grows bolder, skirting to the edge of my bikini between my leg and groin. “I’ll tell you the same thing now that I told you then. You need to get laid.”
“Some of us aren’t as lucky as you, motherfucker.” Richard grunts, cutting his eyes to me.
With equipment stacked on the table, I’m certain he can’t see below my waist from his position. But he has a direct view of my eyes, which are currently trying to roll back in my head as Cole’s fingers slip beneath the crotch of my bikini.
I steal a peek at Cole, watching his eyes close when he finds me wet. He presses inside me, and his mouth parts with a sigh on his lips.
“Cole is never without a beautiful woman in his bed,” Richard says.
“Is that right?” I grip Cole’s immovable arm, trembling against the curl of the fingers inside me.
While I don’t like hearing about all his conquests, I know it’s in the past. I’m over it.
I keep my head
turned away from those dark brown eyes, but I feel them burning the side of my face. I bet he’s wearing a sexy, shit-eating smile, too, and damn if my nipples don’t harden beneath the bikini top.
“You’re the prettiest one, though.” Richard cocks his head. “If he’s smart, he’ll hang onto you.”
Oh, he has me, exactly where he wants me—squirming and at his mercy.
“Thanks for letting me use the shop tonight.” Cole sinks his finger deeper, thrusting a whimper past my lips. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Let me show you how to lock up.” Richard gives me a chin lift. “Nice to finally meet you, Danni.”
“You, too.” I gasp as Cole removes his hand and follows the other man out.
When he returns a few minutes later, I’m still flushed and trembling.
“That was cruel.” I cross my arms and jut my chin.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of that sassy little attitude.”
“You think so?” My pussy clenches.
“I know so.” He grabs a BCD vest and holds it out. “This controls your buoyancy in the water.”
He spends the next thirty minutes walking me through Scuba 101. Each instruction adds another piece of equipment on my body. By the time he’s finished, I can barely stand up beneath the weight.
“You expect me to walk to the pool like this?” I lean against him for support.
“It’s like ten yards away.” He adjusts the tank on his back and grins. “I’ve jumped out of airplanes wearing more than that.”
“Good for you, you smug shit. You’re also twice my size.”
“Alright. Gimme a second.” He hooks more gear onto my body, grabs two sets of fins, and bends to wrap an arm around the backs of my legs. “Hold on.”
My hands fly to his shoulders as he lifts me off the floor. I must weight five-hundred pounds with all the equipment, and he’s carrying me with one arm. I’m impressed. And a little turned-on.
“Someone’s been working out.” I kiss his cheek.
“Thanks for noticing.” He strides into the pool area and sets me on a large rubber mat beside the water’s edge. “Your phone’s in the bag there, if you want some music. We’ll have our heads above water for a while, until you get comfortable.”