Almost in Love (14 page)

Zac grinned and finished his piña colada with a loud slurp.

“You’re so bad,” Bare said. “Go find Kevin and look at his etchings.”

“Maybe I will,” Zac said. He turned to go, then swiveled back, hitting Bare with a saucy look. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Bare’s voice rumbled in her ear. “I think I do.”

She laughed.

“You two are a hot mess,” Zac huffed before making a dramatic exit.

They laughed. A short while later, they headed home.

Bare dropped her off at her door. “Get some sleep. You’ll need your energy tomorrow to paint all this.” He gestured to his body with a grin.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him goodnight. He pulled away quickly, leaving her wanting more.

“Where are you going?” she pouted.

The distance between them kept increasing as he was slowly backing away.

“A man can only take so much,” he said.

“You want me,” she said, hoping to get him back, hoping to pull him inside her apartment and have her way with him despite feeling kind of droopy and tired. She’d been looking forward to it all day.

“Aye,” he said. “Night, Amber.”

Then he was gone. Disappointed, she went inside, past a sleeping Kate on the sofa, and crashed into bed. She was asleep instantly.

The next day Amber slept in. It was Sunday, which meant no rehearsal, and she was eager to get back to painting. Bare would be by in the afternoon for his portrait, so she first worked on an abstract. She added a blaze of deep purple on top of the black and red already there, watching the way the colors merged and blurred at the edges. She’d missed painting tremendously, not having the energy between work and the play’s intense rehearsal schedule. Now she had the whole summer open before her. For a while there, she’d been selling a lot of paintings to this one collector, Susan Dancy, which had sent her into a painting frenzy, trying to keep up. That had dried up. She’d been so giddy about it and reported to Bare daily about her sales. He was so happy for her too.

Kate was absorbed in whatever she did on her laptop and was quiet as a physicist all morning. After she finished her painting and lunch, Amber went to fetch Bare and decided she wanted to paint him as the Pirate King. She wanted to capture what he brought to the character. As the Pirate King, he had swagger and confidence wrapped around a tender heart. The combination was immensely appealing. She set up a chair next to her easel for him and stopped across the hall to see if he was game.

Ian answered the door. “Hey, gorgeous. ’Sup?”

“Hey. Is your brother home?”

Ian leaned one arm against the door frame above her head. “Just you and me. Want some company?”

“Who is it?” Bare called.

Amber gave Ian a look.

Ian winked. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He turned and told his brother. “It’s some delusional girl who thinks you’re all that.”

“Lauren?” Bare asked.

Amber froze. He was expecting Lauren to stop by?

Bare appeared in front of her. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Disappointed?”

Bare shoved his brother out of the way, who seemed to be enjoying the little scene. “Of course not. Come in.”

She stepped inside.

“Ian, get lost,” Bare said.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Ian moaned.

“You don’t have to go,” Amber said.

Ian inclined his head, gave her a quick up and down, and wandered into the kitchen.

She turned to Bare. “I just wanted to see if you’d sit for your portrait as the Pirate King. I thought it would be cool.”

He looked wary.

“What?”

“You only like me for my pirate side.”

She cocked her head. “Does it really matter?”

He thought for a moment. “No. Be right back.”

A short time later, he returned in his pirate costume complete with snug breeches and black leather boots. And an eye patch. She went hot all over. What was it about Bare the Pirate King that was such a turn-on? It was ridiculous. But he just had so much more swagger. Like any minute he was about to toss her over his shoulder and have his wicked way with her.

“See? I knew it was the costume,” Bare accused. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

She tried for innocent. “What look?”

Ian returned to check it out. “Yup. She wants you. Hit that while you can.”

“Ian!” they said in unison.

Ian shrugged. “What? You know you want to.”

“Don’t mind him,” Bare said, grabbing Ian by the shoulders and turning him away. “Let’s go.”

They got back to her apartment. Kate tore herself away from her laptop for the first time that day, took one look at the Pirate King, and whimpered. Amber rolled her eyes.

“Wow,” Kate breathed. “Hi, Barry, I was just researching a new method to calculate extremely large prime numbers.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.” Kate sighed. “Did you know I always use prime numbers less than a hundred when I program the microwave?”

Amber stared at her.

“That could work,” Bare said. “Seventeen, forty-three—”

“Fifty-seven,” Kate finished for him with a dreamy smile.

Amber grabbed Bare’s arm. “Okay, sit here and try not to move.”

Bare sat. Kate stared at him with unwavering lust from her perch on the sofa. Amber picked up her brush. Bare looked self-conscious as her sister’s eyes burned a hole in his chest.

Amber turned. “Kate, could you do something else? It’s hard to focus with an audience.”

Kate never took her eyes off Bare. “What should I do?”

He adjusted his eye patch and sat up straighter.

“Could you do more of that prime number stuff?” Amber asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Kate opened her laptop and went back to staring at Bare.

“Would you like to meet my brother Ian?” Bare asked Kate.

“Is he anything like you?” Kate asked.

“Sure,” Bare said. “We both like computers. We’re both six foot. He’s the one at M.I.T.”

Kate leaped off the sofa. “Take me to him.”

Amber looked from Kate to Bare. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Kate turned on Amber. “Why?” she demanded. “I want a Barry too.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and promptly turned red.

Bare waved that away. “I’ll tell Ian to be on his best behavior. Come on, Kate.” He offered his arm, and she rushed over to take it. Kate turned to give Amber an amazed smile on her way out. Amber smiled tightly.

Ian would eat her sister for breakfast.

A few minutes later, Bare returned. “Alone, at last.”

“How did it go?”

“Great. I told Ian that Kate was heading to M.I.T. for grad school. She wanted the inside scoop on campus life, and Ian was happy to tell her all about it.”

“Just talking.”

“He’s not an animal.”

She hmphed. “Okay, sit.”

“How about this?” He stood with one hand crossing his chest like he was at the helm of a ship.

“Can you hold that position?”

“Absolutely. I am the Pirate King, and this is my ship, the H.M.S.
Amber is Hot
.”

She laughed and started painting. “Okay, stop talking. I need to capture your face in a commanding position.”

“So you like when I’m in command?”

She glanced up. His brows were raised in question. “No,” she said even as she heated at the idea.

He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “You do.”

She clamped her mouth shut, but couldn’t help the blush she felt creeping up her neck as she suddenly realized why she liked him so much as a pirate. The same reason she liked edgy guys. She liked a guy who took charge.

He tapped his head. “Filing that info away. I’m an excellent role player. I can be anything you want.”

Anything? He was a very good actor.
Cool it. Focus. We’re not going
50 Shades of Grey
here.

“Stop talking.” She stared unseeing at the canvas. What would he be like in bed? Sweet and gentle or playing the commanding pirate to her wench, or something in between?

“Do I get something for being a good model?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

She shook her head, giving up on painting his face and switching to a light outline of the breeches and boots in black. “Sure. What do you want?”

“You.”

She put her brush down. “Are you saying you want to trade sex for a modeling job?”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “No?”

She laughed.

“What would you trade sex for?” he asked.

“Bare! I wouldn’t trade sex for anything. Now be quiet.”

He got quiet, and she painted. It was something about the way he held his body as the pirate. He stood taller somehow, shoulders back, and his expression lost that goofy smile. Yet, even serious, his eyes with their laugh lines spoke of a gentle playfulness.

“Unbutton your shirt more,” she said.

He unbuttoned slowly. “Now this is getting interesting.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she said as she took in his rippling abs.

“You like my six-pack abs?”

“Are there six?” She walked over to see for herself.

She placed a palm over his ribs and slowly moved down, counting to herself, trying to act casual like she wasn’t getting hot and incredibly turned on. They were spectacular. She wanted this pirate to ravish her.

“There better be,” he said, “or I’m sending a very harshly written letter to the creator of the
Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days
DVD.”

She was so startled she dropped her hand. She’d seen the infomercial for that DVD with its ripped men and women exercising like crazy to top 40 songs. “You work out to that DVD?”

He crossed his arms. “Damn right I do.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. And laughed and laughed. She crossed her arms over her stomach and bent over with it.

He turned and said over his shoulder, “Do I still have a two-pack butt at least?”

That set her off again.

He grabbed her and swung her up in his arms. “I’ll teach you to mock the Pirate King.”

He carried her to the sofa. She wiped her eyes and settled down. “Bare, my paints are gonna dry. I’m not done.”

“Tax for the mocking. One kiss.”

Then his mouth crashed down over hers, like a pirate who took what he wanted, and she reveled in it, clutching his shirt and forgetting all about her painting.

Finally he pulled back. His eyes were dark with desire. “Amber,” he said, his voice a near growl that had her insides clenching with need, “finish the painting before I take you right here, right now.”

Heat rushed through her.
Yes. Let’s do that
right here, right now
thing
.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked unsteadily.

He set her off his lap, stood, and adjusted his breeches. “No, I’m not kidding. I can’t help wanting you the way I do.” He didn’t look at her, merely went back to pose by her easel. “It’s not every day a painting is created in my honor. I know you’ll do an amazing job.”

She went back to the painting because of his faith in her abilities mostly, but she was thinking she would’ve liked more kissing. And what he’d said about taking her, wanting her. He spoke so plainly. So openly. So…erotically. It was a little unnerving. Still her artist’s eye was intrigued, and she quickly got back into the groove. His expression held a sexy intensity that was distracting. She focused on his chest with its interesting planes and grooves, felt herself growing warmer, but kept going. She had to finish this painting. He wouldn’t always be a Pirate King. She wanted to capture that.

When she’d finished, she let him see it.

“That’s what I look like?” he asked.

She looked at it again. “Yeah. Pretty close.”

He stared at it. “And you didn’t embellish it or, you know, Photoshop it.”

She stared at him. “How could I Photoshop it? It’s a painting.”

“I mean gloss over flaws.”

“What flaws?”

He turned to her with a slow smile. “Amber, Amber, Amber. You’re way into pirate me.”

She put a hand on her hip. “So what if I am?”

“Then I should take advantage of that.”

“Please do,” she said right before he swept her up in his arms in a ravishing pirate kiss. When he let her up for air, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close while he whispered what he’d like to do to her in intimate detail. She throbbed at the words.

“Bare, I didn’t know you were a dirty talker.”

“Does that bother you?”

She shook her head.

“There’s so many things I want to do with you.” He nuzzled her neck. “Things I read about—”

“Where did you read them?”

He nibbled along her earlobe. She pushed at his chest because she needed to know. What kind of things? Where had he read them? His tongue traced the shell of her ear. Her knees went weak, and she sank against him.

“Bare?” she said weakly.

“
Hunt and Get Fit
magazine. Very manly.”

She pulled back. “You hunt?” she asked, horrified.

“I only read it for the sex tips.”

She relaxed and took off his eye patch. “Okay. Let’s go. I want my third C.”

She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She’d barely turned and locked the door before he lifted her and tossed her on the bed. She bounced a little, laughing, and then he was on her, and her laugh died in her throat. His mouth claimed hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They rolled together, kissing, pulling at each other’s clothes, getting tangled in the blankets of the bed she never made.

She pulled free long enough to gasp out, “Your sword!”

“I know. I can’t help it.”

“No, take it off!”

“Take it…oh!” He stood, undid the belt and sword, dropped them to the floor, and returned to her.

He kissed her again, and their limbs tangled together as the kiss went on and on. His hands were everywhere at once, touching and stroking, and she let her hands roam freely. He was sleek, with intriguing cut muscles and broad shoulders. He pushed her to her back and settled between her legs, kissing along her jaw, down the side of her neck.

“I should warn you,” he said between kisses. “I’ve been told I have the stamina of a racehorse.” He nipped her neck, and her nails dug into his back. “Not in a good way.”