Face Off (The Baltimore Banners Book 10) Page 2

  But it wasn’t a bed. He absolutely could not think of it that way. Especially not with the way Cindy was wiggling her perfect little ass against him. Why was she straddling him, anyway? Did she know—? No, she couldn’t know. As far as she knew, they were friends, nothing more than friends. He’d been careful to make sure it stayed that way, careful to hide how he felt. So why was she wiggling against him like that, like she was trying to climb up his body?

  The champagne. That was it. She wanted the champagne he had taken away from her.

  Ethan shifted, swallowed another groan when his hips came into contact with her body. He lowered his arm and offered her the glass with a pained smile. “Someone must be thirsty, huh?”

  She shook her head. A few strands of her hair caught on her cheek and she brushed them away with a gentle swipe of her hand. Then she leaned forward, ignoring the glass he held out to her, and placed both hands on his shoulders.

  His body tensed at the touch. He was helpless to move. Christ, he could barely breathe, not when she was looking at him like that, with those sultry green eyes fixed on him, searching his own eyes for…something.

  “I’m not thirsty.” Her voice was just above a whisper, throaty and warm. Seductive. No, that was just his imagination. Nothing more than wishful thinking.

  Wasn’t it?

  That’s what he tried to tell himself, even when she leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his. Hesitant. Light. Like she wasn’t sure she knew what she was doing.

  Or like she wasn’t sure how he would react.

  All he had to do was hold himself still. Not move, then pretend nothing had happened. Tease her, or make light of it. Or something.

  As long as he didn’t move…

  Fuck that.

  He dropped both glasses, heard them hit the sand with a tinkling thud. Then his arms were around her, pulling her more tightly against him as he took over the kiss. He swept his tongue across her full lips, swallowed her sigh when she opened her mouth to his.

  And God, she was even sweeter than he had imagined. Sweet and warm and spicy. He could kiss her all night, would gladly get drunk on her kisses.

  And fuck. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be taking advantage. She probably had too much champagne, wasn’t thinking clearly. They were friends, nothing more than friends.

  Ethan groaned and pulled away, almost afraid to breathe when she collapsed against him with a little sigh. But she didn’t pull away. Didn’t scamper off his lap or yell at him or make a joke of it. Instead, she pressed those warm lips against the side of his neck as one hand trailed up and down his arm, across his chest, back to his arm.

  “Cindy. I—” He swallowed, tried to clear his throat so the words didn’t come out as a sorry croak.

  “Why did you stop?”

  The question threw him. Of all the things he had imagined her saying, that wasn’t one of them. Had she actually asked him why he had stopped? Didn’t she know what would happen if he didn’t stop? Didn’t she know how much he wanted more than just a kiss?

  No, she didn’t. And he couldn’t tell her. They were friends. That was it. He wasn’t about to destroy his friendship with her over one silly fantasy. He was stronger than that, able to restrain himself.

  He was pretty sure he could restrain himself.

  He curled his hands into fists and shoved them under his ass so he wouldn’t do something stupid—like reach out and cup her face as he kissed her. He should probably turn his head to the side so he could look at her, but her lips were still nuzzling his neck. Okay, so maybe he didn’t have as much restraint as he thought he did. But damn, her mouth felt too delicious on him. Couldn’t he have just that much. At least?

  “I, uh.” He cleared his throat again. “You’ve been drinking and—”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Yeah, you have. And I shouldn’t—”

  “The only thing I’ve had to drink was the champagne you just brought out.”

  “Yeah, but still—”

  “And I didn’t even finish that because you dropped it. In the sand.”

  Yeah, he did.

  He turned his head, his gaze meeting hers. Emerald eyes stared back at him, deep and clear. Not filled with the haze of alcohol like he had expected. No, they were filled with something else. Something much more dangerous.

  Passion. Desire.

  Cindy leaned back, her ass resting snugly against the length of his erection. Yeah, no way she couldn’t feel that. She wiggled against him and he sucked in a deep breath, his hands curling tighter beneath him. Her gaze held his as she reached out and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the short nails of her fingers scraping against sensitive skin as she parted the material and pushed it from his shoulders. Then she flattened her hands and ran her palms along his warm chest, her eyes never leaving his.

  “I need to feel, Ethan. Please.”

  He opened his mouth, ready to ask what she meant. The words died in his throat when she grabbed the hem of her gauzy dress and pulled it over her head. She tossed it to the side then sat there, naked except for the lacy scrap of underwear, her body bared to his hungry gaze.

  Time stopped, filled with nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart. Could she hear it? She must, even over the sound of the lapping waves.

  She reached down and tugged his arm, her fingers uncurling his own as she guided his hand to her breast. Warm flesh, firm and petal-soft, filled his hand. He squeezed, watched as her head dropped back on a soft sigh as he grazed the erect nipple with his thumb.

  Restraint fled, replaced with ravenous desire and urgent need. Ethan leaned forward, caught one rosy nipple in his mouth as he palmed her other breast. Sweet, just like her kiss. Supple. Enticing.

  She sighed again, the sound turning into a moan as she rocked her hips against him. Ethan swallowed his own groan and grabbed her, holding her still as he thrust his hips against her soft flesh.

  He released her nipple after one long pull then reached up, cupped the back of her head in one hand and pulled her down for a kiss. Deep, thorough. Tasting and learning. He shifted, rolling them so Cindy was beneath his body, still kissing. Still touching.

  She moaned, a breathy little sound that fired his blood, then wrapped her legs high around his waist. Her hands roamed across his back, down to cup his ass as she pressed herself against him.

  “Please, Ethan. Make me feel.”

  There was something about her words, something that didn’t make sense. But he didn’t know what, couldn’t figure it out, not with all the other sensations racing through him.

  And he didn’t care. Not now. Not when all he wanted to do was make her feel what he was feeling.

  He broke the kiss, disentangling his body from hers, and stood up.

  “Ethan?”

  “Sh.” He leaned over her for a quick kiss then straightened once more, his hands trembling as he reached for the gauzy curtains. He pulled them closed, shutting out the night, shutting out the pinpricks of light coming from the resort so far away.

  Far away, yet too close.

  It was just them now. The two of them and the dark night sky and the Caribbean Ocean yards away, its waves pounding the beach in time to his heartbeat.

  Ethan shrugged out of the shirt, letting it drop behind him. He reached for his wallet, grabbed a condom before tossing it to the side. Then he pushed the linen shorts down, his erection springing free.

  Cindy’s gaze dropped, another kind of hunger flashing in her eyes as she reached for him. Her hand closed over his hard length, soft and smooth as she stroked him. Ethan sucked in another breath, his hand closing over hers and guiding her strokes for a few minutes. Then he stretched out on top of her, bracing his weight on his elbows as he claimed another kiss.

  “Now, Ethan. Please. I need to feel. I need to feel you inside me.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  Her hand closed over his hard length and she looked up, o
ne eyebrow cocked in surprise. “You feel ready to me.”

  And oh God, he nearly laughed. May have even chuckled as he shook his head. “There are too many things I want to do to you yet.”

  “Later. Please. I just want—”

  “You’re not ready.”

  Cindy looked at him again, her expression an endearing mixture of amusement, impatience, and need. She wiggled beneath him, guided his hand down her body, between her legs.

  Hot. Wet.

  She moaned, pressing herself against his hand. Nails dug into his shoulders as she spread her legs wider. “Please, Ethan. Now.”

  He grabbed the condom, ripped the package open and sheathed himself as she rocked against his leg. Then he stretched out over her once more, slid the lacy fabric covering her to the side, and guided the tip of his cock to her wet entrance.

  Slowly, so slowly, he eased into her. Tight wet heat sheathed him, pulling him in, pulsing around him. He eased back out, even more slowly, then drove into her with a harsh groan. Her legs locked around his waist, her hands digging into the hard muscles of his ass. Her head fell back on a low moan as he pumped into her. Harder, faster, her hips meeting each thrust.

  He wanted to slow down, tried to slow down, but she wouldn’t let him. Over and over, he drove into her. Hard. Fast. Faster still until her body stiffened on a low cry, his name falling from her lips on a harsh whisper.

  And still she wouldn’t let him stop, her hips bucking against his, her cries demanding more until he held himself still over her writhing body, his orgasm exploding from somewhere deep inside him.

  He cried out, nothing more than a guttural moan of release, then collapsed on top of her.

  And wondered if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan pulled the oar from the water and let it rest across his knee. The small kayak sliced through the clear blue water for a few feet then drifted to a slow stop and gently bobbed on the surface. The sun was already warm even though it was still early, the heat not as bad as it could be because of the gentle breeze.

  Ethan didn’t care about the sun or the heat or the beautiful expanse of water surrounding them. All he cared about was the woman sitting in front of him, her back slightly stiff as her hands curled around the sides of the kayak. The breeze played with her blonde hair, lifting the ends of it around her neck and shoulders. She raised a hand, reached up and pushed a few strands behind her ear, made a small sound of frustration when the hair fell back around her face.

  Ethan kept waiting for the dream to end. This had to be a dream, right? He still couldn’t believe Cindy was here with him. And that she was actually with him, that last night had actually happened. But she was, and it did. More than once.

  He’d thought a lot about what it would be like to make love to her in the time they’d known each other. Not once had he ever imagined it would ever happen. Fantasized, yes, but that was it. They were friends, nothing more. And he’d been content with that, had hoped spending the last two months at home, away from her, would give him time to forget about the pull she had on him—a pull she didn’t even know she had.

  Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? Content? Not even. It had been seven months of frustration and agony, being close to her without ever getting close to her. And then last night had happened. Content? No, content had been waking up next to her in his bed this morning, her body warm and relaxed against his. Content was being with her now, doing nothing but sitting in the rented kayak in the middle of the crystal waters of the Caribbean.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled, the action almost tentative and shy. He couldn’t see her eyes behind the large sunglasses she wore and suddenly wished he could. What was she thinking? Feeling? Not regret. At least, he hoped to hell not. She wouldn’t be here with him now if she was regretting last night, right?

  “I think I could get used to this.”

  Ethan’s heart thudded in his chest, excitement running through him at the words. Then she kept talking and he had to swallow back the excitement, had to remind himself not to read into things.

  “It’s so beautiful here. Peaceful, you know? Like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

  She was talking about the island. Of course she was. Ethan tried to grin as he looked off to the side, hoping she didn’t sense his disappointment. “It is nice. I understand what they mean about island time now.”

  “Yeah. Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ethan turned back around, not bothering to hide his surprise. “Why tomorrow?”

  “Because that’s when I made my flight for.”

  “You should change it. Stay the rest of the week. We can play tourist.”

  “I wish I could but that would probably cost a fortune.”

  “I’ll pay for it.” And shit. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were a mistake. Cindy’s back stiffened and she shook her head. She turned away but not before he noticed the way her mouth tightened. Disappointment? Anger? Something else?

  He dipped the oar into the water, pulled back with one long stroke and moved them forward. “I didn’t mean it however you’re taking it. I just meant—” His voice drifted off, his mind searching for the right words. “You can pay me back, if that makes you feel any better. That’s what friends do, right?”

  She tilted her head, not quite looking at him. “Friends?”

  And shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? If it was, he didn’t care. They were still friends. Hopefully more than friends, but still friends. “Yeah. Friends.”

  “Hm. We’ll see.”

  Should he drop it? Probably. But he wanted her to stay, wanted to spend the rest of the week with her. “Do you have a passport?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I’d need it or not. Why?”

  “Well, if you stay, we can take a boat ride over to Jost Van Dyke tomorrow.”

  “Why would I need a passport for that?”

  “Because it’s part of the British Virgin Islands.”

  “Oh.” She shifted on the small seat, rocking the kayak a little. “What’s over there?”

  “Some bar everyone was talking about. The Soggy Dollar Bar.”

  “The Soggy Dollar?”

  Ethan grinned. “Yeah. Apparently you have to swim to shore to reach it.”

  “You’re making that up!”

  “No, I’m not. That’s why they call it the Soggy Dollar: because everyone’s money is wet when they get there.”

  Cindy laughed, the sound as clear as the sky around them. She relaxed against the seat, some of the tension leaving her, easing the strain he had noticed earlier around her mouth. She leaned forward and grabbed two bottles of water from the small cooler sitting between them. She tossed one to him then uncapped her own and took a long swallow. A frown creased her face as she looked around them.

  “Do you think it would be expensive?”

  “The bar? I doubt it.”

  “Not the bar. Changing my flight.”

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “Yes, it does. Not everyone is loaded like you.”

  “Stop being stubborn and let me cover it. Like I said, you can pay me back.”

  Cindy shifted on the small seat once more, studying him. He wondered what she was thinking and wished he could see her eyes. It wasn’t like he could ask her to take the sunglasses off, no matter how much he wanted her to.

  She finally sighed and turned away. “It doesn’t matter. Even if I could change the flight, I don’t have a place to stay because I’m supposed to check out tomorrow.”

  He snorted. The sound left him before he could stop it. Coming from anyone else, he’d take the words as a thinly-veiled attempt at getting an invitation issued. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was Cindy. And if she wanted an invitation, she’d come right out and ask.

  He ignored the brief surge of disappointment that she hadn’t. And he ignored the doubt that maybe she didn’t want to stay
with him. Ridiculous. Even if last night hadn’t happened, she should still know she was always welcome to stay with him.

  He dipped the oar in the water then flicked his wrist, sending a small spray through the air in her direction. She gasped, her shoulder hunching around her ears as the water sprayed across her head and back.

  She ran a hand through her hair then turned in the seat, her mouth hanging open. “What was that for?”

  “For being stupid. You know you can stay with me. Even if last night hadn’t—” He bit back the words, heat filling his face. Would she notice? Maybe she’d think it was nothing more than sunburn. “You’ve crashed at my place before. Not a big deal.”

  Her mouth snapped closed as another frown crossed her flushed face. This one was more thoughtful and again, Ethan wished he could see her eyes, wished he knew what she was thinking.

  “Yeah. About that.”

  And shit. Why the hell had he said anything? He should have never brought up last night, should have just let it go. Or he should have waited until he had a better idea of what she thought. There hadn’t been any awkward morning-after vibes but that didn’t mean she wanted a repeat. Maybe she hadn’t meant for it to happen in the first place, maybe she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.

  If he were smart, he’d change the subject. Fast. Find something else to talk about, find something to distract her. But his mind was annoyingly blank, his brain moving too slow to fill the silence before she spoke again.

  “Maybe I don’t want to just crash.”

  And whoa, okay. Maybe it was a good thing his brain had been sluggish. Unless he was reading into things. Was he?

  Ethan pushed the sunglasses on top of his head, letting her get a clear look at his eyes—and at the intent in them. “Maybe I don’t want you to just crash, either.”

  His words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Was it the wrong thing to say? Maybe he’d read too much into her words wrong and just shot himself in the foot. What if he just screwed everything up?

  He waited, barely daring to breathe, watching her face for a sign of…something. The seconds dragged between them, slow and heavy. Disappointment filled him when Cindy finally took a deep breath and looked away. Shit, he’d screwed things up. Now he had to find a way to fix it.