One-Click Buy: July 2009 Harlequin Blaze

by Julie Kenner

  Don’t go there, Laci, she warned herself. Fresh starts, remember?

  Now, she stood in the shower alone as Taylor lounged on the bed, drinking wine and channel-surfing. She tilted her face up for the spray of water and smiled. So like a guy.

  And since he was so entrenched with ESPN, she was genuinely surprised when warm hands cupped her naked breasts, and the insistent press of a fully aroused penis thrust against the curve of her butt.

  “Oh, Michael,” she said, remembering the name of the room-service waiter. “You shouldn’t have come now. My boyfriend’s in the other room.”

  “Your boyfriend’s a lucky man,” he said, sliding soapy hands down her belly, his clever fingers finding her cleft even as his cock pressed hard against her ass. His mouth nipped at her ear as one hand traveled up to stroke her breast, the other finding and teasing her clit. “Do you mean that?” he whispered. “Boyfriend?”

  She could barely breathe for the havoc he was wreaking on her, but she managed a soft, breathy “yes.”

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured, the passion evident in both his voice and his clever hands moving over her skin. Her body was so primed from having been so deliciously loved for days that she came right then, shuddering and breaking into a million glowing pieces. He stroked her and held her, his fingertips dancing all over her skin, his warm heat helping to put her back together again.

  “That was nice,” he said, reaching behind her to turn off the water. “But I think we need the bed to finish it properly.”

  She felt half-melted, so sated she could barely even giggle when he picked her up bride-style and carried her to the bed. He straddled her, his hands and mouth working over every inch of her. She was already ready, of course, but damned if he didn’t make her more so. Damned if he didn’t make her beg.

  And when she did, he didn’t tease. His gentle hands cupped her thighs, pushing her legs apart. And then, with one strong thrust, he entered her, then slid in and out rhythmically, gaining power with each thrust, as she lifted her hips to meet him, to bring him deeper.

  Finally, when she was certain she could take it no longer, he came, and she joined him, clinging and gasping, until they were both spent and exhausted, collapsed in a tangle on the sweat-soaked sheets.

  After an eternity, she stretched against him, the glow of great sex still clinging to her like bath oil, warm and slippery and deliciously comforting. “You really have to go away?”

  “I could quit my job,” he said. “We could live here in this hotel room forever.”

  “I like it,” she said.

  “So do I.” He propped himself up on his elbows and started to stroke his fingers up and down her bare back. The sensation was delicious and for a brief moment she considered twisting around and using her own hands and lips to draw him back down into the sweet abyss of sex. She fought the urge, though, and instead twisted around to smile at him.

  “I’m glad you made the trip,” she said. “It’s nice to know you came just for me. That you’re not doing anything with Banzai.”

  A shadow crossed his eyes, and her heart twisted, afraid despite the days they’d just shared that she’d judged him wrongly. But no. That wasn’t possible.

  Still, though, she had to ask. “What?”

  “Actually, that’s not true. About Banzai.”

  Her heart tightened, and she feared the worst. Some confession, now drawn out of him from guilt, perhaps. Something horrible, since anything that made her want to back away from him again would be horrible.

  The realization hit her with a jolt. She actually shifted a little on the bed, disturbed by how quickly she’d gone from wanting to burn him in effigy to wanting him back in her life. Needing him back in her life.

  Except the truth was, she’d never truly wanted him to burn. She’d wanted back the man she’d fallen in love with—because she had been desperately, hopelessly, painfully in love—but she’d been so angry about the way he’d hurt her that her wish had seemed impossible, their troubles insurmountable.

  But now here he was, apologizing and wanting her and being the man she’d yearned for.

  And also scaring her with that shadow in his eye that suggested lies and fears and the return to a bitterness between them that, so help her, she wanted to forget.

  Bottom line? She wanted him back. And the thought that he was now about to blow it between them terrified her.

  She swallowed, then met his eyes. “Tell me,” she demanded.

  “I told Reggie I’d pass out those fliers. The ones in the van,” he clarified. “Apparently, Morgan didn’t bother to put the word out to the local kids and he doesn’t have enough manpower. So technically I’ve been demoted.”

  Relief—then laughter—bubbled through her. “You bastard! You knew I’d be thinking all sorts of terrible things,” she said, and was struck by how big a step that was. That they could joke now about the bad history they’d finally put behind them.

  “Hey,” he said defensively. “Handing out fliers is terrible.”

  “I could help,” she said. He cocked his head, looking at her, and suddenly she felt foolish. “I mean, if you want me to.”

  The grin that spread over his face erased all her fears. “I’d love it, but wouldn’t you rather be beating the waves than the pavement?” He nodded toward the sliding-glass door, beyond which the afternoon sun shone clear and bright.

  She shrugged, then reached for his hand. “I’d rather be with you.”

  His brows rode up, challenging, and she laughed, warm and delighted. It had always been so easy to laugh with him.

  “Okay, fair enough,” she amended. “I am getting homesick for the waves. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you, too.” She stroked her finger on his cheek, enjoying the freedom to touch him intimately. “I’ll have to lose myself in practice. Make sure I win so that you’ll come rushing back to congratulate me.”

  “I’ve seen you surf,” he said. “And I’m certain you’ll win. And when you do, I’ll be right beside you.”

  For a second, the past intruded, San Clemente welling up all around her, along with the humiliation that came with the knowledge that he’d brought her in as a wild card because he was sleeping with her, not because of her talent.

  But that was then, she told herself. This weekend had been about moving on.

  But once again, she hoped she was thinking with her head and not with her hormones. Because hormones had a way of really messing a girl up.

  “Second thoughts?” he asked, his narrowed eyes searching her face. His tone was light, but she could see the worry, and it was that more than anything that had her shaking her head in the negative.

  “None,” she said, drawing strength from certainty. “Absolutely none.”

  LONG SHADOWS fell across the beach by the time they came up for air again. Figuratively, of course, since they’d been swimming in an ocean of sex on a sea of silk sheets and wine.

  “Now I’m thinking screw the contest,” Laci said. “I don’t have a choice since I’m going to be here, with you, two weeks from now.”

  “They’ll find our shriveled corpses,” Taylor concurred. “Starved, but not for sex.”

  “Sated,” she said. “Dead, sated and happy.”

  “We could order room service,” he suggested, and her stomach gurgled in response. “And that answered that question,” he added with a laugh.

  He slid off the bed, naked, and crossed the room. “Something different this time? Maybe—” he began, but was cut off by the ringing of the phone. “Maybe they heard us and the food cart’s on the way. Hello?” he edged the handset between his chin and shoulder and started flipping through the menu. “What?”

  Laci sat up. She could tell by the invisible rod that suddenly straightened his posture that work had intruded on their fantasy. She started running through scenarios in her head, telling herself that this party had to come to an end sooner or later, and she could be a big girl and not whine when he had to cut their date short. Not
that it had been all that short, but still…

  “I’m sorry,” he said when he hung up. “I have to swing by the office.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Reggie never sleeps.”

  “I’m being completely selfish, but I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’m being completely selfish and admitting that I like to hear that.” He came over to her and kissed the tip of her nose. “But I still have to go.”

  “I know.” She glanced at the clock, and asked, “Should I wait?”

  He shook his head, and her insides tensed, feeling foolish and afraid suddenly that she’d gotten this all wrong. “Go on back to your bungalow,” he said. “This may be an all-nighter.”

  “Okay,” she said, and told herself silently that he was being perfectly reasonable. This wasn’t a brush-off. This was basic human interaction.

  “About tomorrow,” he began.

  “Yes?”

  “I thought maybe I could take you to brunch. A real meal. A date, even.” He swept his arm around the sex-ravaged room. “This was fabulous, but I thought maybe we could try for a bit more romance. I know a great place with champagne and lobster and a fabulous view. Would that be okay?”

  She knew he could guess her answer because there was no way she could keep the smile off her face. Since, yeah, she was really starting to believe her own fantasy. Really starting to believe that they could pick up where they had left off and erase all the bad stuff. That this interlude in a hotel suite was more than just a sexual diversion. She beamed up at him, delighted to find him beaming right back. “Yes,” she said. “I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

  6

  LACI DIDN’T surf the next morning, but she did get up with the sun and go out to the beach. Neither Drea nor JC were up when she rose, and for that, she was grateful. They’d been asleep when she’d come home the night before, and she’d been grateful for that, too. No matter how much she loved her friends, she hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened with Taylor.

  Instead, she’d wanted to savor.

  She’d fallen into her bed without showering, wanting the scent of Taylor around her as she slept so that the essence of him would fill her dreams.

  It had worked, too. Sweet dreams were nothing compared to the sensual, erotic places her mind took her. Or where Taylor took her in her mind.

  She’d awakened giddy, and when she’d looked at herself in the mirror she almost didn’t recognize her face, so wide was her smile.

  “Hopeless,” she’d whispered to her reflection. She’d slipped on shorts and a T-shirt, not bothered with shoes, and padded through the living room to the door. She’d left the quiet house behind and moved to the surf, the pull and tug of the waves against the sand reminding her of Taylor’s sweet, rhythmic thrusts.

  Oh, yes, she had it bad. And it was even kind of nice to admit it.

  She walked in the surf for another few hours before heading back to the bungalow. The lights were on and she heard the hum of music and could see JC and Drea moving around inside. As soon as she pulled open the weather-beaten screen door, she saw Drea perched at the breakfast counter and JC in the kitchen scowling at a cup of coffee. Both of them turned to her as she entered, their faces grave.

  “What?” Reflexively, Laci looked behind her. “What’s going on?”

  They exchanged a look. The kind of look that friends used when they had news to share that they absolutely did not want to reveal. The kind of look that made Laci nervous. “What?” she repeated. “Out with it. Whatever it is can’t be that bad. I’m in too good a mood this morning and I absolutely refuse to let anything muck it up.”

  Another silent communication passed between her friends, and then Drea lifted her shoulder ever so slightly. JC drew in a breath. And Laci got very, very nervous.

  “Guys?”

  “It is him,” JC blurted out. “Taylor Dutton. He is here.”

  The fear that had threatened to suck the air out of Laci’s lungs vanished in a puff, and she laughed. “I know,” she said, aiming for the refrigerator. “But you guys are totally sweet to worry.”

  “You know?” The exchanged looks, and then the realization hit them both at the same time.

  “Oh, my—” Drea said. “He was the reason for the message.”

  “You’ve been with Taylor?” JC asked. “Laci! What were you thinking?”

  She could feel her cheeks heat. “We, um, sort of bumped into each other.”

  “And?” There was an urgency to Drea’s voice that made Laci hesitate.

  “We, um, had a really nice time,” she said blandly.

  “A nice time? With Taylor? The man you’ve been planning to burn in effigy for the last year?”

  Okay, obviously this was the source of the weirdness. Her friends were worried about her, and rightfully so. “I’m over it,” she announced, then held up a hand at their amazed faces. “No, seriously. He was utterly and totally contrite. He hates what he did to me back in California—it’s been eating him up inside, too, and he came here instead of going straight to Sydney for the Danger competition because he knew I was here. He wanted to make up, guys. And we did. And,” she added, although she knew her cheeks were on fire, “it was really, really nice.”

  Warm now, both from embarrassment and the mental playback of just how “nice” it had been, she moved into the kitchen and poured a tall glass of OJ. She took a long sip and watched her friends. JC and Drea were still staring, but now they were fidgeting, too. “Honestly, you guys? What?”

  “It’s just that he hurt you, Laci. Bad. Is he really the kind of guy you want to get back together with?” JC drummed her fingers on the counter and examined Laci with wide, serious eyes.

  “What if he’s shining you on?” Drea asked. “I mean, I don’t want to say that he is, but don’t you think you should be careful?” She glanced over at JC as if for support. “I mean, now’s not the time you want to get off your game, right?”

  Laci knew Drea had a point, but it wasn’t one she wanted to acknowledge. Not after last night. Not after she’d stared in Taylor’s eyes and seen both remorse and desire.

  He was genuinely sorry he’d hurt her; she’d seen that. Understood it.

  And if she knew one thing above all else, it was that he wasn’t going to hurt her again.

  She had to believe that if she wanted to make a go of a renewed relationship with Taylor. She had to start from a position of trust.

  Because if she couldn’t trust him, then the last forty-eight hours were nothing but smoke and mirrors.

  If she couldn’t trust him, she was still all alone.

  TAYLOR’S MEETING with Reggie had ended some time ago, but his head was still spinning from all that had happened. Morgan getting the ax from Reggie for “extreme nonperformance,” and Taylor getting pushed into Morgan’s now-empty shoes without ceremony, yet with a hell of a lot of expectations.

  Big expectations. Because Reggie had done a lot of blowing smoke up Taylor’s ass telling him what a comer he was, and how Taylor had the mojo to get the promo and money opps going for Banzai even as he continued to organize the Danger Down Under

  Competition in Sydney.

  A huge responsibility with pretty much his entire career riding on it.

  Honestly, Taylor wasn’t certain why Reggie hadn’t brought someone else in to take over from Morgan, especially since Taylor was already committed to the gills. But he hadn’t. He’d tagged Taylor, and Taylor fully intended to step up to the plate.

  Prove he could do this, and he’d be in solid with Reggie and XtremeSportNet, the corporate ladder his for the climbing and his Christmas bonus big enough to make his head do a solid Linda Blair number.

  And that wasn’t all, Taylor thought as he blindly paced his hotel room. Reggie’d also assigned the responsibility for a pre-Banzai exhibition on him. A last-minute, balls-to-the-wall demonstration of the mad skills the competition’s featured surfers were going to be displaying wh
en they rode the pipe. Not on the pipe, of course—for that, folks would have to wait for the day of competition. But whetting their appetite…

  Oh, yeah. Taylor had to say that it was brilliant. Definitely a marketing move worthy of Reggie Pierce. The man had started out in promotions just like Taylor and made a fortune. There was no one better Taylor could learn from, and to have been hand-picked to take over these three key projects was a vote of confidence that had Taylor’s head swelling to Goodyear-blimp proportions.

  He frowned, realizing that he wasn’t the only one this could be good for. The fact that Laci was raised in Australia meant that he could do an entire promo campaign around her, possibly even pulling in some serious endorsement dollars. She hadn’t said as much, but he knew she could use the influx of cash. So far, her star was climbing, but as of yet, her pocketbook hadn’t followed suit.

  The Danger slate wasn’t so solid that he couldn’t tweak it a bit. He could bring her in as a headliner in the exhibition and she’d soon be soaring high, especially since he intended to orchestrate a dual-country pre-Banzai exhibition, with footage piped in from Australia contemporaneously with the Hawaiian event. A media spectacle, and if he could pull it off, it would make his career.

  It could make Laci’s, too, if only she’d let it.

  He frowned, fearing he already knew how that suggestion would fly. After all, that very thing was what had ripped her from him previously.

  Then, however, he hadn’t talked to her beforehand.

  Now they were on an even keel again, and that meant the world to him. So he wasn’t about to do a damn thing without her okay. Not even if Reggie ordered him to. Some things, he thought, were more important than career advancement, and Laci Montgomery was one of those things.