by Cathryn Fox
“No,” she whispered.
“You probably should.”
“I don’t. You’re a good guy, Carson. Your sister said you were the best guy she knew, and she was right.” She swallowed. “You saved me,” she whispered. “You protected me from your friend.”
“He’s no friend.”
“The shelter Crystal was talking about. What exactly is it?”
“It’s a women’s shelter. We provide beds, food, and other resources, like medical help and counseling, to women and children in crisis. Crystal does a clothing and toy drive every summer. That’s what she was talking about. I move around a lot and have pretty much been involved with a shelter in every city.”
Gemma nodded slowly. “We have one in Brooklyn. It’s close to the hospital, unfortunately. Mom won’t go anywhere near a hospital. If we had one closer, maybe I could talk her into getting some counseling.”
“I can look into that for you, if you like.”
She went deathly quiet. “You’re a good guy,” she whispered again, her eyes cast downward.
Needing to lighten the mood and put a smile back on her face, he nudged her. “Hand me those cuffs, and I’ll prove you otherwise.”
She smiled, but he could tell it was forced.
Coolness enveloped him as she pushed away. “I need to take Gracie for a walk.”
Ah, the great escape artist in action.
“I’ll go with you. It’s late and dark, and I don’t want you in the park by yourself.”
One hand went to her hip, her look haughty, but there was something lingering beneath that indignation. Was it pleasure disguised as annoyance?
“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she said.
“I know, but I’m coming with you. As long as I’m around, I’m taking care of you. I told you that. So get used to it.”
She mumbled something about bossy pants and pushed the sheets off.
He laughed and grabbed the handcuffs. “Besides, I don’t want you running away. I’m not nearly done with you tonight.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re kind of glowing.”
Gemma shot Andy a glance, and realized how little time they’d spent together since Carson had come into her life two weeks ago. Andy had been working the night shift for the last couple of weeks, but her friend being tied up in the ER wasn’t the real reason Gemma hadn’t seen much of her. No, it was because she’d been tied up with Carson. Literally. They fell into bed together nearly every night, and he continually impressed her with his sweet bedside manner and oh-so-deft hands.
“I am not glowing,” she countered, and smoothed one hand over her sundress. “It’s hot back here.”
“Speaking of being back here.” Andy glanced around the kitchen, and Gemma followed her gaze, taking in Score’s staff and servers, who were all hurrying around to cover the lunch-hour rush. “What are you even doing here, anyway?” Andy checked her watch. “Isn’t it your day off?”
“I’m just making a couple of sandwiches.”
Andy tapped her nails on the stainless steel countertop. “Oh? Who for?”
Gemma cut the bread, wrapped the sandwiches, and stuck them in a takeout bag. “None of your business.”
“Since when did you start doing deliveries, anyway?”
She grinned at her best friend. “Dave is out on a run, so I thought I’d help him out.”
“Right,” Andy said, laughing. “You’re full of it. Those are for you and Carson.”
She laughed, too. “Yeah, we’re going out on the boat this afternoon.”
Andy gave a wistful sigh. “Truthfully, though—is the sex really so good that you’re making him one of your famous turkey sandwiches?”
“Yeah, it’s that good, and I need to feed him to keep up his stamina.” She gave her friend a playful wink. “This is all about me, Andy.”
“And meeting his family, that was all about you, too?”
“No, that was for Carson,” she admitted. “Part of the arrangement.” She neglected to tell her about the engagement party his mother insisted on planning, with or without Gemma. Andy would definitely go into lecture mode over that one. Carson had tried to talk his mother out of it, but she was an incredibly pushy woman. For now, they were riding it out and hoping to keep pushing the date back until after they faked their breakup at the end of summer.
“And they liked you?”
“They appeared to.” Gemma shrugged. “I went out with Crystal a couple of weekends ago. We did some charity work and had lunch. She’s really great.”
“So you’re falling for all of them, then? Carson and his family?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “I’m not. I was cornered into spending time with Crystal, and the only thing between Carson and me is sex, that’s it.”
“Really good sex.”
“Yeah.”
“And you still know what you’re doing?” Andy grabbed a piece of turkey from the plastic container and popped it into her mouth. “You’ve got everything under control?”
“Yes.”
Andy’s voice dropped, becoming more serious. “Carson has a real reputation with the ladies, you know that, right?”
An unwise pang of jealousy gripped her stomach. “I have a question. Do the hospital staff all sleep with each other, like I see on the nighttime doctor dramas on TV?”
“Oh, yeah, they do. So I know what I’m talking about. And if he hurts you, Gemma, I will personally remove his balls.”
She chuckled. “Thanks, but I have Gracie for that.” When she looked back up, she found Andy watching her carefully. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, pulling herself together.
“When he leaves at the end of the summer, you’re not going to be heartbroken, are you?”
“Nope.”
Andy pushed off the counter. “All right. I’m off to get some sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Let’s catch a movie this weekend,” Gemma said, feeling a little bad about the lack of time they’d been spending together.
Andy left the kitchen, and Gemma packed away the turkey and snatched two cans of soda to go with lunch. She grabbed her purse, paid for the food, and went out the back to the rear lot. When she found Carson leaning against his car waiting for her, looking warm, relaxed, and so sexy, her heart did a little jump.
Careful, Gemma. He’s a guy you could easily fall for.
“Hey,” he said, bending to give her a kiss on the mouth when she reached him.
She held up the bag. “I hope you like turkey.”
He took the bag and put it in the backseat. “It’s food isn’t it?”
Laughing, she circled the car and slid into the passenger seat. She studied his profile as he drove, taking in the hard ridges along his jaw, and the stubble on his chin. She breathed in his scent, and he turned her way. His face softened, and he smiled.
“Did you bring a suit?” he asked.
“You didn’t say anything about swimming.”
“Doesn’t matter, you don’t need one.”
“If you think you’re dunking me fully clothed again, you can forget it.”
“No, but we have to take a dip. It’s a beautiful day.”
“So you’re suggesting we skinny-dip.”
He gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. “It’s not really a suggestion.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like swimming in the ocean.”
He took the turn, and she leaned his way. His hand snaked out and captured hers. “Why not?”
“Did you not see Sharknado?”
He burst out laughing and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. God he was so fun to be with, so easy to talk to. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“From a shark? Do we need to talk about how you reacted to Gracie?”
“Ah, pit bull, Gemma. Sharp teeth.”
“Ah, shark, Carson. Sharper teeth,” she returned, and he just laughed again.
He drove to the Southampton yacht
club, squeezed his car in between two trucks and powered it down. One hand went to her headrest, and he shifted to face her. Warmth moved into his eyes, and his fingers brushed over her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He brushed her curls from her face. The display of tenderness seemed odd coming from the domineering man who played with handcuffs and literally took what he wanted. That wasn’t to say he didn’t give as good as he got. The man was all about reciprocating.
She tightened her ponytail and, deciding to leave her purse in the car, grabbed their lunch from the backseat. Carson popped the trunk, pulled out his backpack and shouldered it. Again with the backpack. What did he carry in that anyway? Before she had a chance to ask, he closed his hand over hers and her body reacted to his closeness, his heat. Hand-in-hand, they walked through the parking lot and along the wooden dock. When she caught sight of the luxurious speedboat at the end of the marina, she pointed.
“Is that yours?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She crinkled her nose and took in the big boat. “Did your grandfather teach you how to sail this, too?”
He laughed. “Yes, and technically I’m not sailing it, I’m steering.”
They walked the length of the dock and when they reached the boat, he moved to the side and waved his hand, gesturing for her to walk up the wobbly aluminum gangway. She grabbed the rails and shook them. They rattled, and she swayed. “Well, technically, I’m still not too sure about this.” She shook the rails again. “Is this even safe?”
“Yes, I’d never do anything to put you in danger.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He really was one of the good guys.
She slowly made her way up, thankful she was in flats and not heels. Good God, it was the biggest boat she’d ever been on. She down glanced the length of it. Did it have its own staff?
“So, you really know how to steer this, Carson?”
“Yes, and out here, you can call me ‘Captain,’” he said, a note of amusement in his voice.
“I think I’ll stick with Sailor Boy.”
He laughed, and it brought a smile to her face. When he grinned at her like that, like she was the most important girl in the world, it was easy to forget this thing between them was pretend. Andy’s warning came rushing back, and Gemma gave herself a quick lecture about what was real and what wasn’t.
He put his hand on the small of her back, his touch warm and intimate as he guided her on board. Her body heated, and bathing suit or not, she was going to have to take a dip in the water just to cool herself down.
She stopped when she reached the lower deck, and he came up behind her. His body was close, his mouth near her ear. “I’m not a boy anymore, Gemma,” he said, his voice full of sensual promise.
No. No he wasn’t. He was all man. 100 percent alpha male. El Capitano, in every sense of the word. A shiver moved through her when she thought about those controlling hands of his.
He guided her up a set of stairs to the top level of the boat, and they walked around a gorgeous bar with chrome stools and headed toward the front of the cruiser. She took in the opulence, the luxurious white leather seats, and all the areas for sun bathing. This boat was seriously out of her league, and a reminder they were different people from different worlds.
She slid into the chair beside his. Looking right at home, Carson dropped his backpack, powered up the boat, and took them out. She smiled as she watched him, and it was easy to tell he loved being on the water.
“Tell me more about your grandfather,” she said as she reached into her bag for their food, wanting to know so much more about him. She unwrapped his sandwich and handed it to him.
Carson bit into the bread. His eyes lit up. “This is good.”
“I use cranberry sauce instead of mayonnaise,” she explained, feeling silly that his enthusiasm made her so happy.
He took another big bite and when he gave an exaggerated moan, she grinned. “Drink.” She handed him his soda, bit into her own sandwich, and lifted her face to the sun. “Was it your dad’s father or your mother’s?”
He cracked the can, took a long swallow and put it in the cup holder. “Dad’s.”
“Did you get along with your grandmother, too?”
“We lost Gran when I was young. Granddad came around a lot more then, especially after he retired.” Carson waved to an elderly gentleman as they passed his anchored boat, and then he turned those ocean-blue eyes on her. “He was a lawyer, like my dad. Gran never worked. She stayed home and raised her family. She loved to knit and cook.” He held up his last bite of sandwich. “She would have loved these.” He grinned like he was remembering something funny. “She would have loved you,” he said in a voice so soft she had to strain to hear it. But then he frowned, as if he’d said too much.
She shifted in her plush leather seat. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet them.” He went quiet for a long time. “I’m also really sorry the model boat he gave you got destroyed, Carson. Could it not be fixed?”
“No, it was damaged beyond repair.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but Gemma could imagine what the gift had meant to him. “At least I have my memories.” He steered the boat and took them farther from the dock. Outside the marina, the choppy water crashed against the side of the vessel and they swayed slightly.
“Do you have grandparents you’re close to?” he asked.
“No. It was just me and Mom, and too many…” She paused to do air quotes. “…uncles.”
“You had Andy and her mom.”
“Still do.”
“Seems like they were a good influence on you.” He snorted. “Except for Andy leaving you alone that night at my place when she took off upstairs with my buddy.”
She rolled one shoulder, not at all upset by her friend’s action. “She liked the guy and went after what she wanted.”
He wagged his eyebrows, his grin sexy. “So did you,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “And I’m glad you did.”
“Yeah, we’re wild women. Really aggressive.” She wasn’t. Not really, but he didn’t need to know that.
He cocked his head, his gaze moving slowly over her. “I do appreciate you not sleeping around while we’re faking this engagement. I hope it’s not been too hard on you.” She eyed him, took in the smile playing on his mouth. “I’ve been trying to do my best to keep you satisfied.”
What the hell? Was he suggesting he could see behind the bad girl act she presented to the world? While one part of her wanted him to look behind the mask, to see that she wasn’t easy, because what he thought actually mattered to her, there was another part of her that needed that shield in place, especially when it came to him. Andy was right. If there was one man who could hurt her, it was Carson, and she knew better than to let him in a second time. Truthfully, this was a dangerous game they were playing, and she needed to be careful—a whole hell of lot more careful than she had been so far.
Turning on the bad girl act, she said, “I know you’ve been trying, and I give you an A for effort,” she said. “But I do like variation.” She was kidding, of course. She had no desire to be with another guy, and this one man was beyond creative in the bedroom. He continually surprised her…pleasured her.
Carson chuckled but it died on his lips when he touched her chin and lifted her face to his. His eyes were a deeper shade of blue when they met hers. A horn sounded in the distance, breaking the moment, and she crinkled the sandwich paper in her hand. Carson let go of her chin, and she dropped the wrapper into the takeout bag.
“About this skinny dipping,” she said, like it was something she did every day.
He cocked his head. “You serious?”
She fanned her face. “Sure, it’s hot out here.”
“Okay.” He looked around, steered them into a quiet cove, and dropped anchor. “Nice and private here.”
Gemma stood and gripped the hem of her sundress. She peeled it over her head and grinned when Carson’s groan reached he
r ears. “Your turn,” she said.
He reached over his shoulder and tugged his T-shirt. Her gaze latched on to his hard chest as he tossed his shirt away. Comfortable in her skin around him, she slipped her hand around her back and removed her bra. Carson made quick work of his shorts, and once he was standing in front of her wearing only his boxers, he put his hands on her rib cage in a familiar movement, his thumbs brushing her nipples.
Smoldering eyes latched on her breasts, and he murmured, “Maybe the swimming can wait.”
She worked to find her voice as her nipples hardened beneath his hands. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
His grin turned wicked. “How about a little of that variation you were talking about.” He slid one big hand into her panties, and when his fingers connected with her sex—a long luxurious stroke that burned through her—all thoughts of skinny-dipping were long gone. He pressed into her then drew out, and she moaned and moved against his invading fingers. He stroked again, the friction setting her on fire. Honest to God, the man was so good with his hands.
In a smooth move, he reached behind him, gripped the back of his captain’s chair, and swiveled it. He withdrew from her, grabbed a condom from his shorts, and sank into his seat.
He crooked his finger. “Come ride me.”
Her skin grew hot, feverish, and it had nothing to do with the sun beating down on them. “Don’t you mean steer you?”
He laughed but it came out sounding sexually tortured, painfully needy. “I’m the captain, not the boat.”
She laughed, enjoying the easy intimacy between them, but that laugh died an abrupt death when his face went dead serious. “Now, get those panties off before I tear them off, and come straddle me. If you’re not on me in two seconds, I’m going to bend you over that seat and show you a few more variations.”
While that sounded equally fabulous, she stepped up to him and, feeling completely naughty, gripped the band on his boxers and pulled them until his cock popped out. “There is one thing I need to do first.” Dying to taste him again, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.
“Fuck,” he moaned, and ran his fingers through her hair. She licked from his base to his crown, a slow drag of her tongue. His cock jumped, and she smiled, loving that she could do this to him. Pressure brewed between her legs as she swirled her tongue over him, and from his ragged moans, it would only be a matter of time before he put a stop to her explorations.