Baring It All

by Rebecca Hunter

Natasha sighed in exasperation. “You want to be in charge of this outing?”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “Okay, I’m game. As long as this doesn’t involve any strand-the-novice-in-shark-infested-waters humor.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. What the hell was so funny about all this?

  “Shoes, seriously. In case you accidentally step somewhere sharp,” she said. “And I promise I won’t leave you alone with the sharks.”

  “All right,” he said warily. He eyed her tank top and shorts. “You changing first?”

  She shook her head.

  “Nice,” he said. “I like the wet T-shirt thing.”

  Natasha rolled her eyes and gave him a little push off the lounger. “Let’s go.”

  Max headed for the cabin and changed into his suit and tennis shoes then met Natasha outside. She was still sitting on one of the pool deck chairs, now wearing sunglasses and a hat. Her gaze slid down his body, slowing at his bare chest. He waited, letting her get her fill. He knew he looked good. And after spending the morning trying to block out Natasha’s luscious body in that red bikini she’d worn yesterday, he wouldn’t mind flipping that dynamic. Maybe she’d—

  “Um, you might want to put a shirt on,” she said, interrupting that train of thought.

  “I’m confident you can look without touching,” he said, grinning. “But I’ll let you know if I’m feeling violated.”

  He could see Natasha was fighting a smile. “For sunburn, Max.”

  Max waved off her comment. “I’m fine. I put on sunblock, though you’re welcome to apply another layer. In any area.”

  She sighed and shook her head.

  “At least sunglasses,” she said.

  “Aren’t we using that stuff?” He gestured to the basket of masks, snorkels and other gear outside the cabin.

  “Nope.”

  What the hell? Something was definitely going on. At her insistence, he grabbed his sunglasses and a shirt, and followed her down toward the beach.

  They started along the trail that led out to the shore, where they had met up the day before. But when they hit the sand, she turned.

  “We don’t seem dressed for this,” he said conversationally.

  “You’ll see.”

  They continued through the sand until they came to a row of sturdy-looking yellow kayaks.

  “We’ll take these,” she said and headed up the beach to where the paddles lay.

  Max looked down at the kayaks. More like oversized surf boards with a seat in the middle. The kind where their legs would be uncovered. He wasn’t a small guy by any stretch, and it wouldn’t take much of a nudge to tip him out of one of these. Into shark-infested waters.

  “I’ve seen Jaws,” he said casually. “And I’m pretty sure this little boat won’t offer me much protection.”

  Natasha just laughed as she dragged the kayak down the beach. She looked completely at ease, and she had a hell of a lot more experience in this area than he did. Time to get his shit together and go look for sharks.

  They slid the boats into the warm water, and Max climbed on, tottering a little before he found the center. Natasha paddled out toward the jetty, and he followed. The surface of the water was calm, almost glassy, and he rested his paddle to peer down at the reef. Fish of all colors and shapes swam under him, weaving through the bright coral. Slowly, they made their way around the island, under the jetty to the mainland side. The tide was low, and parts of the reef jutted out of the water.

  “We’re going there,” she said, pointing at the exposed reef. “We’ll probably have the best chance of seeing epaulette sharks right at the shallow edges.”

  Were they headed for some sort of drop-off point where the sharks gathered for unsuspecting prey? At least his kayak was red and not seal-belly gray...though red was the color of blood. She was right about one thing—flippers weren’t the best choice for this viewing.

  Max paddled through the roped-off snorkeling section and into a deeper patch with a sandy bottom. Right beyond them, the coral beds stretched off that side of the island, dark and glistening. Natasha stopped paddling, drifting right beside the exposed reef but not touching it. Max maneuvered his kayak just behind hers and looked down into the water. Sandy paths wove into the crevices between the coral. On these sandy paths, little things moved. The water stilled around them, giving him a better view of the fish that swam in and out of the channel.

  “What are those fish called?” he asked, pointing at a yellow pair.

  Natasha followed his gaze. “Those are longnose butterflyfish. But the one swimming there...” She pointed to another yellow fish just beyond the pair. “That one’s a raccoon butterflyfish. See the difference in the black stripes?”

  Yeah, he did.

  “Hey, look,” he said, pointing next to the raccoon butterflyfish. “Some creature took a dump in here. Pretty big. Is it shark shit?”

  Natasha looked where he was pointing. “That’s a sea cucumber, Max. It’s alive. And they’re not dangerous.”

  His eyes met hers, and she started to laugh. A rush of tenderness swells inside him as her eyes glittered with warmth and humor. It felt so good to do just about anything with her. They were nowhere near the bedroom, but every moment together made the attraction between them grow.

  “You sure this is shark territory?” he said. “I know I’m not the scientist here, but I’m pretty sure they need deeper water to sneak up on their prey. The reef is really shallow here.”

  She tsked at him over her shoulder. “Patience, Max.”

  The hot sun blazed down on him. It was probably good he’d covered up because the heat was intense.

  They paddled farther along on the reef. Some of the channels were deeper, so he kept a lookout on both sides for approaching sharks. Natasha slowed as they came to one of the crevices, looking into clear water.

  Max looked, too, but there was nothing but sand. “Is this when you tell me that the shark is invisible?”

  Natasha laughed. “No. I thought I saw an eel. But if we see a shark, it’ll be around here, too.”

  “Come on, Nat,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “The sharks we’re looking for are small,” she said with a wink.

  Max eyed her skeptically. “How small are we talking about?”

  Natasha held out her hands. The space between them was less than the length of two rugby balls.

  “You’re kidding,” he said. “A mini-shark?”

  “An epaulette shark,” she corrected. Then she gave him a wide smile. “But wait until you hear what it does. It walks.”

  Her excitement was infectious. “On its fins?”

  “Yes! Exactly,” she said. “Crazy, right?”

  Max might have found that fact interesting on its own, but the joy and excitement in Natasha’s voice raised it another few notches. Before he met her, Max had never thought much about fish beyond his own menu preferences, but it was the way she lit up when talking about marine life that had him hanging on to every detail. Yes, he teased her a little about it, but more than anything else, he admired it. There was something so pure, so uncalculated about her passion for fish, of all things.

  “Does this thing look like a shark?” he asked. “Will I recognize it?”

  “The shape is similar to other sharks, but it’s spotted,” she said. “Big spots.”

  He pressed his lips together. Just ask the question, you wanker.

  Max cleared his throat. “Is it, um, known for biting humans?”

  A grin spread across her face. “It’s not dangerous, Max.”

  Some of the tension left his shoulders, and he cleared his throat. “Just checking.”

  He was almost sure she smothered a laugh as she turned to paddle away. They floated along the edge of the reef, peering into the channels of water.

>   “Low tide is a great time to see some of these species up close without disturbing them. I would have taken you diving, but the shallow water is full of different stingers, so you’d need full gear. Underwater it’s even better.” She pointed down at a bright sea star draped over a small piece of coral. “Check out this guy.”

  Max leaned over the side of the kayak to get a better look. “How do they work? I don’t see the eyes or mouth.”

  “They don’t have eyes. And their version of a mouth is underneath.”

  “Huh,” he said, studying it. “What does sea star sex look like?”

  Natasha snorted. “It’s not sexy. We can watch a video later if you want to.”

  “I like videos,” he said, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

  Her kayak was next to his, and he was dying to get closer to her. The sounds of the shore, the palms, the breeze, the lapping of water on the coral, all mingled with her breaths, shorter, faster, as if she, too, was taking in the gentle friction between their bodies. He wanted this woman.

  She bit her lip and smiled. “If that’s your thing. I’m not judging.”

  Max threw back his head and laughed. When he looked at her again, Natasha’s smile was full and glorious. She looked so happy. And his heart, his breaths, expanded in the glow of her happiness.

  “Why fish, Natasha?” he asked.

  She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling over her shoulders in sexy waves. “What do you mean?”

  “Your parents are both actors, and your sister is a model. How the hell did you get interested in all this?”

  She shrugged. “I first got into biology because I love patterns. I love that even some of the craziest behaviors make sense if you look hard enough. Though the more I look, the crazier—”

  Suddenly, she put her hand on his leg, as if to still him.

  “There it is,” she hissed. “An epaulette shark. Don’t move.”

  She pointed just up the channel they were hovering over. And there, swimming toward them, was a little...shark. Yeah, it did look like a shark if he set aside the size. Pointy nose, dorsal fin and it had a few other fins, too.

  “Watch its bottom fins,” she whispered. “It uses them to walk on the reef.”

  They watched in silence as the shark slowly swam up the channel, oblivious to its audience. Max looked at Natasha, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, sunglasses propped on her head, her eyes filled with wonder and amazement as she studied the shark. The water lapped against the rocks, and a warm breeze cut through the heat of the sun, rippling the water. This moment. He wanted to stay right here forever, in the hot sun, with her hand on him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Natasha’s gaze followed the shark’s path between the ridges of exposed reef. Then she met his eyes, and her smile was open and free. She patted him on the leg and straightened up.

  “You survived your first shark sighting,” she said, amusement sparkling on her face. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone with them.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  NATASHA’S SHOES SANK into the sand as she started across the beach, back to the cluster of cabins where they were staying. Max walked next to her, close, his hand brushing against hers or lingering on the small of her back every so often. Thank goodness he had put on his shirt. Even an epaulette shark sighting wouldn’t be enough to distract her from the glistening muscles that rippled down his chest. The dusting of hair, the trail that disappeared into his suit. It was all so intimate, so...there.

  Oh, no, was she falling for him? It was like he had his own gravitational field, pulling in women who got too close. Even her, who knew better. Life would be so much easier if she were a shark. She’d mate with Max and then her little brain would forget all about him soon after he moved on. Instead, she was stuck with a human brain that wasn’t going to forget Max. Especially not after last night on the beach.

  Warning signals were flashing in her annoyingly hyperactive brain, and not for the first time. Get out now. Don’t wait until it’s too late. You’ll turn into a crazy woman.

  But she already knew she wasn’t backing out of their last day on the island together. Not when she knew that, no matter who she dated, he’d never be as fun as Max. Or as hot. If this was her chance with him, she was going to take full advantage of it. If she could just resist the temptation to make this more than it was going to be, she might still be able to walk away.

  They headed across the beach and cut onto the path that wove through the plants and palm trees toward the cabin. Max’s hand brushed the small of her back, and then he reached around and pinched her ass. Natasha yelped and jumped away.

  “What was that for?” she asked, laughing.

  Max lifted his sunglasses and gave her a mock-serious glare. “You knew I was nervous about the whole shark thing, and you let me think the worst.”

  She suppressed another laugh. “Maybe.”

  He dove for her and tickled her. Then, before she could get away, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “You enjoyed it.”

  “Okay, maybe I did,” she said, grinning. “It was fun to feel like I had the advantage for once.”

  He gave her a searching look, his smile fading. After another beat his expression shifted into something that looked a lot like determination. Max laced his fingers with hers and led the way around the pool, back to their suite. Silently, he opened the door and headed for his bedroom. She followed, and as soon as he shut his door, he slowed to a stop. He turned so they were face-to-face, his hands on her arms, his intense gaze fixed on her. He walked her backward until she was against the cool wood of the door, his sun-warmed body brushing against hers.

  He bent over and kissed her neck, her jaw. Every breath, every quiet groan sent another jolt of edgy pleasure through her. Then he pulled back and looked right into her eyes.

  “I’m very into this, Natasha,” he whispered, his lips so close to hers. “Every part of it. I don’t want any misunderstanding about that.”

  The electric pull jumped and sparked between them, and his gaze dipped lower, to her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. All day she had suppressed the urge to touch him, to explore, to feel his weight against her. It was so good to be with him on the reef, just laughing, touching, talking. But all that time, tension and want for Max brewed deliciously inside. And they hadn’t even taken off their clothes.

  Now she wanted more. She wanted a taste of what they would be like together if he wasn’t Max Jensen, the press’s favorite wealthy playboy.

  She kept her gaze steady and lifted her hands to his face. His eyes grew hot as she guided his mouth to hers. His warm lips brushed against hers, soft, almost reverent in their touch. She sighed. His mouth met hers again, and she kissed him back, tasting his bottom lip, then his top.

  A deep rumble came from him, and then they were really kissing. Hungry, needy kisses, searching, finding, looking for more. He eased her back onto the bed and climbed over her, breathless gasps mingling together. His palms came to her cheeks, and he tilted his head, kissing her, stroking her neck, her sides. His cock was hard on her stomach, and she moved against him, loving the intensity of his arousal. Strong hands lifted her so she could straddle him, her clit against his erection. He groaned and thrust, and the hot burst of pleasure rushed through her. She tilted her hips and ground against him. She nipped at his lips, and he answered with strokes of his tongue. So hungry. So good.

  That thought was enough to stop her. Natasha pulled back, shaking off that wild magic that tingled through her. Her fingers and toes and breasts—every part of her begged not to stop. But finally, her brain had caught up with her. She brought her hands to his face and held him a few inches away.

  He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. Finally, he sighed.

  “This isn’t how it usually feels for me. This fee
ls like...something more.”

  His expression was so serious, so intense. His hand was on her cheek, coaxing her eyes to his, as if he were daring her to look away. The electric pull between them was sparking again. Natasha still could steel herself against the power of Max’s charm...couldn’t she? But now that those warning lights had turned on, it was impossible to ignore them. She could recognize that road to crazy from a mile away. And she had already started down it. Which wasn’t supposed to happen after a couple days of sex and fun.

  “We don’t have a package deal, Max,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “This is à la carte, remember?”

  Natasha wasn’t even sure what they were negotiating, but her feelings about him were shifting, something that wasn’t what she’d bargained for.

  “What if I’m interested in some items not listed on the à la carte menu?” he asked with a hint of frustration.

  Her heart sped up, pumping unwanted hope through her. Still, she shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  Max’s expression turned darker, so un-Max-like. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

  He clearly had more to say, but for once, the words didn’t flow out of his mouth. Leave it to her to provoke the world’s most easygoing man.

  Or maybe it wasn’t that. Because the more she looked into Max’s eyes, the more that explanation felt like an excuse. Maybe he was just letting her see more of him this time, even that intensity, that drive that he kept so expertly cloaked beneath his good-natured exterior. She mentally squirmed under Max’s gaze but was determined not to look away.

  His gaze softened, and she saw more. Something profound and aching, something she had no words for. He was struggling, too. Her chest tightened. She drew in a shaky breath, fighting the deep ache of tenderness she felt for him. It was too much.

  Finally, he bowed his head, and when he looked back up at her there was something new in his eyes. Understanding? She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  He nuzzled her on the neck, tickling her with the stubble on his jaw until she smiled.

  “You want to stop?” he asked.