Love on the Boardwalk (12 page)

Her sassy streak still shone through even her insecurities. “I’ve been thinking about what this would be like, too. Ever since that night I almost kissed you on the beach back in June. Say you’re right. Say I can have any woman I want. The woman I want is you.
Because
you’re perky and fun.
Because
you’re adorable and you make me laugh all the time. And because you’re far more beautiful than you give yourself credit for. I want you, Trina. You’ve got adaptability and smarts that can’t be measured by essays and bubbled answer sheets. I don’t want a distraction. I don’t want a random hook-up. I want you.”

The door swooshed open and shut. Swearing, Brad wiped the drips from the ceiling off his face with his sleeve. Then he yanked open the door.

Trina sat neck deep in a circle of a pool narrower than his arm span. More importantly, her robe hung from a hook on the wall. “I needed to cool off for a minute. Things were getting pretty hot in there.”

“I thought that was the idea.”

“What you just said—it was wonderful.”

“It’s all true.” He hadn’t said it to calm her down, or to get her stripped faster. Brad believed in calling it like he saw it. That was how he looked at the world as a detective. So the way he felt about Trina—was feeling more and more with every day they spent together—was nothing but pure fact.

“That’s what I had to process. That you really see me that way. Not as a sidekick, or as a friend with benefits, but as your choice.”

“Let me prove it to you.” Without even taking off his robe, Brad jumped into the pool with both feet to get her. And was pretty damn sure his heart stopped pumping for a minute. The water was icy. Not cool, not Atlantic Ocean cold, but seriously down to at least fifty degrees. His feet finally remembered to kick. Arms windmilling, he surfaced, spluttering. Blinking water out of his eyes, Brad yelled, “What the hell?”

“It’s a plunge pool. I told you I needed to cool down.” She was gone. Out of the pool and he hadn’t even glimpsed an inch of bare skin in the process.

Brad didn’t bother with the ladder. It’d take too long.

“You said last night that you didn’t want it tender and slow. Well, tough.” From the low shelf, he grabbed a stack of thick bath sheets. Dropped them at his feet, right by the steps. “I want to take it slow. To map every inch of you with my tongue. To discover how each of your freckles tastes. But that’ll be for the second round.” Slowly, one by one, he let the condoms fall to the rough border of the spa. Then he sat on the edge with his legs in the water. “Once we take the edge off. Right now, I’ll give exactly what you asked for—fast and hot.”

He peeled off his robe. Gave her a second to take in the whole package, naked, lined up pretty much at eye level. Then Brad slid into the roiling water and took her. His mouth devoured her. He tried to grab on to her ass, but she was everywhere. Hands reaching for his back, then streaking up his sides, legs wrapping around his waist. Finally, when he latched his mouth onto the nipple that crested through the bubbles, she arched up to him and stopped moving. In fact, her arms fell limply into the water.

Brad grabbed her other perfect handful of a breast and molded it with his fingers. Tugged on her nipple to replicate what he was doing with his tongue to the other one. Wished desperately it wasn’t so damn dark in here. Brad wanted to know what color those nipples turned, the more he worked them. He wanted to know if, the more excited she got, a rosy flush spread over her skin. But the low lighting turned her body into shadowy peaks and valleys.

“I wish I could see you.”

“Feel me.”

“Baby, I will feel all of you, inside and out,” he promised. Brad hoisted her higher, legs above his hipbones. “Hang on tight.” Then he backed away from the edge and let her float out. Putting one hand beneath her back to steady her, Brad roamed his hand down her torso. He moved his mouth to the other breast—every bit as sweet as the first—while he trailed his fingers in lazy circles down to her belly button.

Trina thrashed and twisted at his touch. “Stop teasing me. You said you wouldn’t make me wait,” she panted.

“I’m a man of my word.” Brad plunged two fingers inside of her. A moan tore out of her throat. God, she was twice as hot and wet as the water swirling around them. He circled his thumb at the top of her mound and Trina ground against him.

“Now,” she demanded.

He lifted her out of the water onto the stack of towels he’d placed right on the edge. Her legs hung down into the water. He ripped open the condom with his teeth and rolled it on with one hand so he could keep stroking her thigh with the other. Brad climbed up a step, planted his hands on either side of her waist and drove into her with a single, fast stroke.

“Do it again.” Grabbing on to him with her heels, she scooted closer. His balls slapped against her ass, and it was the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Absofuckinglutely.” Water splashed out every time Brad moved. He barely noticed over Trina’s sexy little mewling cries and the volcano of desire within him about to erupt. She needed him, wanted him as much as he needed and wanted her. It was spontaneous. Fun. A little dirty and reckless and a lot hot.

Her nails clawed down his forearms. Brad hinged forward to latch his mouth around her nipple. Sucked hard twice before she screamed and arched up so hard she almost broke his nose with her collarbone. Not that he’d have complained. The tight clench of her orgasm squeezed his right out before she finished screaming his name. He grabbed her shoulders, hanging on as shudders racked both of them.

Brad let his weight fall onto her, head flopping sideways onto her shoulder. “Holy shit, you were fantastic.”

Her fingers danced across his scalp. “Did you see stars?” she teased.

There was a split second where Brad had to decide between playing it cool and being real. Not that it was much of a choice. Trina was a live wire. She burned through any pretense, any shields. “No. I saw rainbows.” He lifted his head to stare into her half-lidded eyes. “That’s what you do, Trina. You take ordinary things and turn them rainbow bright. It’s what makes you so special.”

Her lips parted. Brad couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. But then she closed them into a smile sweeter than maple syrup. “You really get me, don’t you? That makes me
feel
special.”

“I plan to make you feel a lot of things tonight.” Shifting his hand to the back of her thigh, Brad pulled her more snug against him. Pulsed once as a preview of what was in store.

“You’ve got moves. World-class moves. The way you swivel your hips is surprising for a man with all your muscles.”

“You have no idea.” If she ever saw him dance,
then
she’d know from moves.

“What does that mean?”

He shook his head, sending a spray of water across the room. “Never mind.”

“I hid a six-pack of beer and a plate of snacks in here. I’m not telling where until you ‘fess up whatever you’re hiding.”

Well, he did need to keep his strength up. Tonight clearly had the makings of a sex marathon. “What kind of snacks?”

“Cold pizza and chips. Oh, and guacamole because I remembered how much you scarfed it down this summer.”

Damn, she’d found his weak spot. Hot sex, cold beer and guac pretty much equaled the best night ever. As long as he didn’t scare her off with his revelation. But he’d wanted to share his secret with a girlfriend for years. Trina, with her easy acceptance of everything in life, might be just the woman to risk opening up to about it. Brad pulled out. Walked around the corner to dispose of the condom. When he came back, he planted his feet and arms wide. “Still feeling the after-effects of that orgasm I gave you?”

Her head slowly lolled to the side. “I’m stuck on a clammy, cold stack of wet towels because I can’t begin to move. You turned me boneless.”

“Let’s fix that.” Brad scooped her up and rubbed her down with two dry towels. “My point is that I think it’s safe to tell you my secret because I’m at my peak of manliness right now.”

“You are the Mt. Kilimanjaro of manliness.”

God, this was hard to say out loud. If this tanked his evening, he’d blame Coop. His cousin put all those ideas in his head about sharing interests, and not just a bed with a woman. Brad would take that risk with Trina, but it had damn well better pan out.

“I can do more than just swivel my hips. I’m a dancer.”

“No way.” She tried—cutely—to wrap her hand around his bicep. Then used both hands. “This is not the body of a dancer. This body is practically a weapon. For going into battle, for breaking a foot-high stack of boards with your bare hands.”

Boards? Child’s play. “I can do it with bricks, too.”

“I’d love to watch you do that.”

“Look, I’m not kidding. I’m a dancer.” Brad stepped back, did a quick mambo step then ended with a double...well, he wouldn’t call it a pirouette, not even in his own head. A double spin. Which felt really weird to do completely naked.

“What—how did you—” Trina’s eyes were huge as she shrugged back into her robe.

“My mom dragged me to ballroom dance class back in elementary school. She wanted to take lessons, and they needed boys in the kids class, so I was her collateral. Mom flaked after a few lessons, but I was hooked. Got serious enough to get a steady partner and win a bunch of amateur competitions. I love it as much as I love hopping on my motorcycle for a long ride.” Because he couldn’t kick the urge to defend his secret passion, Brad added, “Besides, I’ve used the smooth moves learned in dancing to evade the bad guys. Saved my ass more than once in a fight.”

“You’re the hottest guy on the Boardwalk, you’ve got a gun and know how to use it, you make love like a god, and you can dance on top of everything else? Seriously, Brad, you are the ultimate man. You should have some sort of a fancy, jeweled belt like the wrestlers get.”

God forbid. Brad tied a towel around his waist. “That would majorly diminish my manliness factor. Besides, it’s a secret. Strutting around in a belt would give it away.”

“Nobody knows? Not your buddies on the force?”

“Especially not them. I’d never hear the end of it. I keep it on the down low. Only my family knows.” He’d never even told Dana. She’d seen an ad for a reality dance competition and made a couple of insulting digs. Brad figured it was better to keep his mouth shut. Maybe surprise her during the first dance at their wedding. Good thing he hadn’t shared that part of him with her. But he didn’t regret opening up tonight. To Trina. Apparently he could say anything to her. Which felt pretty damn great. “And now you.”

“You dope.” She batted at him with one end of a towel. “You should’ve told me right from the start. We could’ve done something special tonight.”

Brad grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall. Hip to hip, he said, “I think we just did something pretty special. And we’re just getting started.”

She giggled and curved a hand around his ass. “Agreed. But we can do that any night. Whereas the Boardwalk ProAm Ballroom Dance Classic is just this weekend at the Trump Taj Mahal. All the girls at Club Eden were talking about it.”

“I know. It’s why, in addition to the obligatory strippers and beer, I chose AC to hole up over my non-wedding weekend.” Not that he’d admitted that fact to his father when he suggested this trip, Coop, or anyone else. Trina was his own personal truth serum. “I’ve got a ticket for tomorrow’s competition. Plus, I entered as a walk-in for the open-dance hour at the start. If anyone wants to dance but doesn’t have a partner, they can use me.”

Her lips pursed in an accompaniment to the quizzical frown between her eyes. “What if
I
want to use you?”

“Huh?”

“I love dancing.” She changed her hold on him and tangoed them straight across to the sauna door. “I took it all growing up—ballet, tap, jazz and ballroom. I was so little that everyone wanted to use me for lifts. It’s been a while, so I’ll probably step all over you. But if you don’t mind, I’d love to dance with you.”

Brad couldn’t believe his good luck. “You don’t have something better to do?”

“Better than grinding against my own personal sex god? Hardly. Except that first, I have a lead to tug at tomorrow morning. For my case.”

Uh-huh. The non-existent case with no paying client. Then her words clicked. As unpredictable as ever, Trina had apparently cobbled together a real case out of thin air. “You have a new lead?”

“Oh, yes. A couple, actually. And confirmation from an...outside source that there’s something bad going down at the club.”

Seeing as how she had no license, no weapon and almost no experience, Brad’s first instinct was to yet again demand she drop the whole thing. Or call in reinforcements. But he knew he had to tread lightly with that suggestion. She’d made it clear the other night that walking away just on his say-so wasn’t an option. The more Brad thought about it—and he had, as he’d tossed and turned in his bed—it was obvious his knee-jerk reaction to her had, well, made him a jerk. Brad didn’t regret
what
he’d said. Sure did regret the way it had come out, though.

Trina walked around the corner. He hoped it was to scare up the snacks. Brad raised his voice to be heard over the burbling spa. “Bad enough that you should step away and call in the police?”

“Maybe. Which I’ll totally do, once I get actual proof on top of my hearsay.”

Technically, it was the right way to progress with a case. Still made him nervous, though. And he couldn’t step back and see with a clear head if it was because she was a newbie investigator, or because she was
Trina.
Better figure that out before going off on her again. Because it wasn’t fair to judge her any differently just because he liked the way she kissed. “Guess you’ve thought this through.”

“Don’t worry. I’m taking Darcy with me, for safety in numbers. It’ll be broad daylight, too.” She reappeared, hands laden with beer and food. “What could go wrong?”

“Just about everything,” he mumbled as he helped her set it all down on the floor.

Trina crossed her feet. And her wrists. Then twisted her fingers together. “Um, do you want to come with us?”