Three Ways to Wicked (4 page)

Sliding his hand to her nape, he flicked the tip of her tongue with his before sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. The sound of her moan rippled over his heated skin, kicking up goose bumps.

Oblivious to anything but her consuming sugar-and-spice flavor, he eased over Kayla, taking her down to the blanket. With a slight shift of his hips, her thighs cradled him. Tipping her head back, he dragged his mouth along the arch of her neck, lingering over the sweet spots that made her shiver and squirm. He followed the gentle curve of her jaw and swirled his tongue in the hollow behind her earlobe. Her sexy whimpers spiked his need to the danger zone. Rolling his hips, he ground his erection against the beckoning heat between her legs, her softness molding to his hard length like she’d been designed especially for him. Loosening his hand from her hair, he slipped his palm beneath her ass, hiking her tighter against him.

Kayla’s nails dug into his shoulders, snapping him back to reality. Stilling his bump and grind, he sucked in a ragged breath. Shit. Dry humping her in public. And after she’d confessed to a not-so-distant painful breakup with her fiancé, no less. Didn’t that make him a fucking class act?

Afraid to meet her eyes, he scooted off her and readjusted the snug placement of his fly. Unable to take the silence anymore, he glanced at Kayla. She was gaping at him, her curls a wild, wanton mess framing her flushed face. She looked so damn irresistibly beautiful and sexy, his chest ached. Along with other parts of him south of the border. “Jesus. I’m sorry, Kay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Gibb?” She started to push onto her elbow, but he jumped to his feet.

Not trusting himself to keep his senses during the couple of seconds it’d take to pull on his flip-flops, he snatched the shoes and offered a tight smile that he damn well knew fell far short from being reassuring. “It won’t happen again. I promise.” Not daring to risk another peek in her direction, he loped back toward the house.

Chapter Four

She’d been dropped into a freakin’ episode of
The Twilight Zone
. That had to be it. No other explanation made sense for the mind-blowing kiss she’d shared with Gibb yesterday.

Securing her hair into a high ponytail, Kayla made her way toward the kitchen. While she searched the cupboards for a mug, her thoughts became fixated on the memory of Gibb’s cock rubbing along her crotch—thick, insistent and undeniably hard.

Okay, that part of the erotic interlude had been all too real. And bone-meltingly incredible. God, he had some serious hip-swiveling skills that could give Elvis a run for the money. A few seconds longer and she would have come merely from the delicious friction. As it was, her drenched underwear had made the walk of shame back to the Bishop place an extra uncomfortable level of hell.

She just prayed this wouldn’t make things awkward between them.

Yeah, right. Like there was the remotest chance of
that
not happening. Especially since he’d all but freaked out at the end there. Probably a damn good thing she hadn’t been able to offer up her virginity to him all those years ago. Not if yesterday was any indication of the kind of reaction she brought out in him. Her luck, he would have gotten cold feet the moment she was naked. Talk about mortifying. No amount of therapy would have repaired the devastation of
that
.

A loud tapping noise drew a ceasefire to her internal doubts. She swung her focus to the sliding door. Ty stood on the other side, his expression a mixture of apologetic and hopeful. Unfortunately a pair of camouflage cargo shorts and an unbuttoned, short-sleeved, rumpled white shirt stood in replacement of yesterday’s towel. Still, she was damn well aware of the impressive package tucked away beneath those shorts, and her hormones sang a chorus of hosannas as a result.

Oh God. What did it say about her that her horniness meter went off the charts for Ty while her clit still tingled at the recollection of Gibb’s kisses?

Maybe Jeremy was right about her being a whore.

No, she didn’t sleep around. Casual sex was definitely not her style. She could count on one hand the number of men she’d been with, and have a couple of fingers left over. The sad truth was she didn’t have a ton of experience when it came to sex. But she had one damn fantastic imagination. It’d stood her in good stead through two-dozen-plus books.

Worry settled over Ty’s features, reminding her that she’d left him locked outside, and he was likely wondering what he’d done to deserve it. She hurried to the door and freed the latch. “I’m so sorry. Come in.”

Ty’s familiar grin reappeared. “For a moment there, I wasn’t sure if you were gonna drop behind the counter and hide from me again.”

She groaned. “If I pay you a hundred bucks, could you pretend that didn’t happen and I’m not a total dork?”

Chuckling, he hooked his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. “Aw, darlin’. You know I love your adorkable ways.” He smooched her forehead before massaging her nape.

Pleasurable shivers leapfrogged along her spine. Glancing down, she noticed the perky state of her nipples. The thin, stretchy knit of her white tank top did little to conceal the traitorous buggers. Unless Ty was woefully farsighted…

She looked up and discovered his stare glued to her breasts.
Evidently not.
“It’s, uh, cold in here.”

“Funny, ’cause I’m feeling kinda hot right now.” The intense heat in his eyes backed up his statement.

Her body swayed toward him, and he steadied her before ghosting his fingers along the inner curve of her forearm. He stalled at the crook of her elbow, the ridge of his knuckles barely grazing the outer swell of her breast. Every centimeter of her skin felt itchy, sticky and excruciatingly oversensitive. She moistened her lips. “Why did you come up here, Ty?”

To set your bedsheets on fire with my sweet, sweet lovin’.
She nearly rolled her eyes at her own hokey internal dialogue. Clearly that was a gold-star example of her literary best.

“I wanted to borrow some coffee.”

“Really?”

One corner of his mouth hitched upward. “Yeah. Really. We don’t have any out in the pool house. Or a coffeemaker, for that matter.”

Okay, so apparently her bedsheets were safe for the time being. Damn.

She stepped away from him and smoothed the hem of her top. “I was about to make some for myself. I’ll throw in extra grounds for you.” She hesitated on her trip to the kitchen. “Should I, uh, count Gibb in for a cup or two?” She winced when her attempt at casualness sounded more like Minnie Mouse on helium. Biting the inside of her cheek, she bounced her gaze to Ty and smothered her relief over his lack of a smirk. Good. Maybe he hadn’t noticed how she was acting like a nervous moron.

Ty cracked a yawn before scratching the sexy dark scruff overtaking his strong jaw. “No, he beat it out of here at some you’ve-got-to-be-shittin’-me hour this morning. Mumbled he wanted to get a start on swabbing the
Salty Girl
’s deck.”

She hoped to God that was the name of their boat and not guy code for sex. Finding out Gibb had rolled out of bed bright and early to bang another chick was precisely the type of ego buster she didn’t need. “Did he say anything else?”
Smooth. That line of questioning isn’t suspicious in the least.
She mentally rolled her eyes.

“Gibb ain’t too vocal most mornings. Miracle he spit out what he did. Practically passed for a conversation.”

“Ah…okay.” She snatched a mug for Ty and opened the sealed package of coffee. While she measured the fragrant grounds into the filter, he made himself comfortable on one of the ladder-backed barstools fronting the center island. Every time she glanced in his direction, he’d daze her with a panty-wetting grin. Between him and Gibb, her entire supply of underwear was in danger of being constantly soaked.

He leaned sideways and slung his arm over the top of the neighboring chair. The positioning of his shoulder forced his shirt to inch open a bit more on the left, awarding her a prime viewing of his sculpted pecs.

Lord, he was built. “Do you bench press tractor tires and cows for the hell of it?”

His chuckle was low and smoky. “Checking me out again, darlin’? I’m gonna start taking that as a challenge.”

“For what?”

“Giving you something
exceptionally
interestin’ to peek at.”

Her skin flushed, and she resisted the urge to fan herself. “You always were a horrid tease.” She swung the basket closed on the coffeemaker and hit the brewer button. The device kicked on with a sputtering gurgle. “Remember the time you accused me of having a crush on Fabio, and then you showed up at Reese’s bonfire wearing that ridiculous blond wig?”

“Yeah, and I recall my head almost catching on fire when the damn wig started smoldering after a stray spark landed on it.”

She snorted. “Serves you right for wrongfully accusing me of being a Fabio fangirl.”

“So does that mean he’s not on any of your book covers?” Ty made a tsking noise. “Poor dude.”

She gaped at him. “How—?” Strike that, the only people who could have told him were Bailey or Gibb. And she doubted Bailey would have spilled the beans.

“Gibb mentioned last night that you write books and that you’re a big success.”

She hadn’t brought up anything about that last part, and she was far from living high off the hog from her writing, but it was nice that Gibb had bragged on her. Feeling silly for the glow of happiness that information brought on, she shrugged. “I do all right for myself.”

“I’m proud of you, Kay. Gibb is too. We both think it’s important you know that.”

Apparently Gibb
had
said a thing or two last night. “Thanks. I appreciate your guys’ support.” At least she had it from someone. God knows she’d never get it from her mom. Shoving aside the weariness that realization generated, she gave Ty a wan smile. “I’ve been dealing with a bad case of writer’s block lately. My main goal while I’m staying here is to get my mojo back.”

“Is that what you were planning to do today?” Ty swiped his hand lazily across his rock-hard abs.

She stared at his descending fingers, her train of thought officially derailed. “Um, do what?”

The tiny upward hitch returned to the corner of Ty’s mouth, leaving her with the mortifying certainty that he was fully aware that she was visualizing her tongue following the happy trail that disappeared beneath his low-slung shorts. “Write.”

Her cheeks warm, she crossed to the fridge and fetched the hazelnut creamer. “I should. I’m so far behind on this book, it’s depressing. But I also told Bailey I’d swing by and have lunch with her.” And truthfully, she was jonesing to spend some quality time with her BFF. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly six months, shortly after Kayla’s breakup with Jeremy. Bailey had flown to Detroit almost the second Kayla called her on the phone and sobbed about all of it. They’d spent the entire weekend drowning Kayla’s sorrows with mojitos and a marathon of John Hughes flicks. By the time Bailey jumped in the cab to catch her redeye back home, Kayla’s spirits had been restored even if her head was still too fuzzy from overindulging in the mojitos.

“After lunch, you could always stop in at the marina. Gibb and I don’t have much going on today. We could take you for a spin on one of the boats.”

Out on the open seas with her two fantasy men? One of which she’d shared a sexy—albeit clothed—bump-and-grind session with?
Right.
The only thing spinning would be her head. “Let me get back to you on that,” she said weakly.

“Shore thing.”

She groaned. “A nautical pun? Really?”

“You’re not the only one allowed to be adorkable, darlin’.” Ty’s unrepentant smile beamed in all its glory.

Surviving the next two weeks
without
giving in to the temptation to lick him from head to toe? There was the true challenge.

Despite her sunglasses, Kayla still had to cup her hand over her eyes to avoid being blinded as she scanned the umbrella-shaded tables scattered around the Rusty Anchor’s outdoor patio. A frantically waving arm drew her attention to Bailey. The goofy grin adorning her friend’s face was probably identical to Kayla’s.

Battling her urge to squee like a preteen at her favorite boy-band concert, she gathered her few remaining threads of dignity—and promptly tossed them to the wind a second later when she tackled Bailey with a fierce hug. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Bailey reciprocated with her own bone-crushing squeeze before sliding her sunglasses upward and anchoring them on top of her glossy, raven-hued pageboy. “There’s an easy remedy for that, you know. Move your ass down here.”

“Tempting as that sounds, I doubt my mother would appreciate sharing the same zip code with me.”

Bailey’s pixie features adopted a ferocious cast. She might be a petite five foot one, but when it came to defending those she loved, her bark was nothing to mess with. “She’s still giving you crap? What the hell is
wrong
with that woman?”

“Actually, Belinda’s moved from the shaming stage to the shunning one. I haven’t talked to her in a couple of months. Probably just as well.” She could only take being bombarded with the continuous soundtrack of how much of a failure she was as a daughter before its toll shaved off another layer of her soul. “Enough about me and my problems. What shenanigans have you been up to? How is Dane?”