Wicked Nights (15 page)

over the exposed skin.

“Perfect,” she said as he yanked the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

Then he
paused.
“Should I stop? Or call you mistress?”

The thick ridge beneath the buttons of his jeans was promising, too, and also all hers for tonight.

“Not unless you have a death wish.” Sometimes, a woman had to be honest.

“Piper.” Her name was half groan, half curse. She thanked the powers above that she got to him the way

he got to her. “I’m pretty sure you’re driving me crazy.”

“I always do.” She traced the waistband of his jeans and,
hello,
someone was definitely happy to see

her. Cal bumped against her hand. She reached for the first button and popped it free.

“True.”

“I’m just planning on doing it a little differently tonight.”

“Piper.” There was her name again. She wiggled her fingers, just a little, more because he felt good and

she couldn’t help but be aware of him beneath her palm. “We don’t have to do this. The bet was a joke, not

a legally binding contract.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”

He braced his arms on either side of her on the sink, somehow managing to make her feel both secure

and looked after. Those were new sensations for her, because she always took care of herself. Cal, on the

other hand, looked after everyone. He made sure his friends and family—hell, the whole island—were safe

and had what they needed. Apparently, he’d decided to include her in that number. She didn’t want pity sex

but something else entirely. And, she’d admit it, she hadn’t misplaced her competitive spirit like she

intended on misplacing her clothes.

If she was having sex with Cal, she was going to be the best he’d ever had.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said, but his voice sounded husky.
Sexy,
and the tug she felt was

something else unexpected. Since when had she found Cal attractive?

Since always,
the little voice in her head chimed in.

“So, you do want me?” She moved her fingers and discovered she could stroke the very tip of him. She

slid her fingertips in a small circle, and he sucked in a breath. The tiny inhalation was a definite yes, right

there.

“We don’t like each other.” He sounded a little desperate, so she popped a second button, giving herself

more room to work with. More Cal.

“Nope. We drive each other crazy.” He was dead right.

It also wasn’t fair how gorgeous he was. To compensate, she unbuttoned his third button.

“But we did have a bet,” she said. “And I’ve never known you to renege on a bet.”

“I’m a man of my word.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she’d never been so grateful

for a bet before. This wasn’t about winning or losing but about a chance to explore Cal. She had him for

one wicked night—and then, because fair was fair and they’d both won or they’d both lost, depending on

how you looked at it—she’d be
his.

She could hardly wait.

“Off,” she ordered and he gave her what she wanted.

He slid a finger beneath the last button on his jeans—there was nothing sexier than a man in button-up

jeans, where she could slide the tips of her fingers between the gaps, stroke him where he was hot and hard

—until it gave. Cal was commando. And lip-lickingly gorgeous.

His dark eyes watched her, but she discovered, his control was an illusion. When she touched him, he

made a rough sound of pleasure, which only encouraged her to do it again. And again. She loved the way

the groan slipped out. She wrapped a palm around him, literally holding Cal in the palm of her hand. He

might not like her, but he definitely wanted her, and she could work with desire. He wasn’t moving fast

enough, though, so she tapped his hip, the little smack loud in the room. “Pick up the pace, Brennan.”

He grinned at her as he shoved his jeans down his legs, and his crooked half smile went all the way to

his eyes. This close to him, she could make out the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. Huh. Maybe Cal

had a bad boy in him, after all. Or she’d been too busy pushing his buttons to take a really good look.
Or

undoing his buttons.

“I’m all yours. Do your best,” he said.

His rough gasps and muttered curses were a power rush but also something more. She wasn’t thinking

about the something more tonight, so she pushed those thoughts away. Instead, she scraped the nails of her

free hand lightly over his stomach, enjoying the way the muscles there—and Cal had more than his fair

share of muscles—jumped. He liked this, too. A lot.

With her other hand, she stroked the length of him as she cupped him. He groaned, something

incoherent, half prayer and half her name. Lucky him—she’d barely gotten started. She leaned forward.

* * *

nothing had changed in the twenty years since. What had changed was how much he liked it. Liked
her.

Her mouth surrounded him, hot wet perfection that made parts of him howl with pleasure. The strangest

thing, though, was that this was
Piper.
While he was no angel, he usually insisted on having some kind of

relationship with a woman before they went to bed together. He hadn’t been holding out for a ring and

happily ever after, but he hadn’t been into the casual hookup and bar scene, either. Nor did he think Piper

was. Island gossip being what it was, he’d have heard if she’d made a practice of casual hookups.

Piper’s bathroom was getting dark, and he wished he’d thought to flip on a light when he’d made the

return trip from her front door. He wanted to see her face as she made love to him. Had sex with him. Or

maybe both, if he was lucky. He didn’t know what this was, but the way she made him feel was out-of-this-

world good and like nothing he’d felt before.

Her mouth covered him, sinking down. His hips rose up to meet her, and he was putty in her hands. He

could imagine the wicked gleam in her eyes if she knew. Which she had to, because he was making all sorts

of noises. He skimmed his hands over her shoulders, her throat, tangling his fingers in her curls. At some

point, she’d lost her tie and her hair was spread all over him. Another thing he liked too much.

“Come up here so I can kiss you.” The growly demand was back in his voice.

“You lost a bet, Cal.” Her fingers did something positively wicked to him at the same time. “Tonight’s

mine and I’m in charge.”

She lifted her mouth off him just enough to get the words out. Each word was a hot whisper over his

skin. Nope. He wouldn’t be lasting long tonight, and his imminent loss of control was only partly due (very,

very partly due) to the fact he hadn’t had sex in months.

Losing, however, didn’t seem like such a bad thing when she put it that way.

Just to prove his point, she licked her way up the length of him.

“Please?” The word sounded needier than he liked, but it worked.

Piper paused. Her fingers squeezed him deliciously, briefly, and then she slid up his body. Her parts fit

against his as she leaned in to kiss him.

His own hands got busy, stripping off her shirt and cupping her breasts, skimming the curves until he

found the clasp in front. One quick flick, and she was shrugging out of the bra he’d admired so much. Her

lingerie was still pretty, he decided—it was just that she was so much prettier. His eyes were getting used to

the dark. Piper was all soft shadows and dark curves, but his imagination hadn’t done her justice or

considered the possibility of her intriguing tan lines and the paler places where her bikini had covered her

up. Barely.

Right now, though, he was focused on baring her.

She liked what he was doing, too. She stilled for a moment before melting into his touch. The fierce

relief sweeping through him was almost as shocking as the fact that they were here. Getting naked
together.

He didn’t think Piper would go this far just to prove a point, but he’d never known with Piper. She was a

leap-first, think-later kind of gal. Tonight, though, she was warm and willing, arching into his touch with a

rough noise of pleasure. He wondered if he could make her scream. Or beg. Either one worked for him.

Maybe both, if he were a very lucky man.

She kissed him harder and more fiercely, moving their kiss into new territory. This was no gentle

meeting of their mouths but more like she’d decided to devour him, her tongue sweeping inside his mouth

and taking what she wanted. He gladly opened for her.

He ran his hand down her back, tracing the straight arrow of her spine until he was cupping her butt

through the silk of her panties. Since she wasn’t letting go of his mouth, he wasn’t asking for permission.

Fair was fair.

Her thighs held his hips in a vise, and her mouth grew more frantic as she kissed him. He wanted to kiss

her for hours, and yet at the same time, he wanted all of her right now. He pressed up into her sweet heat

and about lost his mind. Since he wanted her lost with him, he moved his hand lower, curving his fingers

inward to stroke her through her panties.

* * *

inside Piper higher. Her SEAL definitely meant business, and his demand only worked her up more. She’d

never been one for orders, but this was one command she could work with.

Not waiting for an answer, he hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and tugged.
Okay, then.

She obligingly shimmied out of them—they
were
her favorites, after all, and there was no point in

sacrificing them to hot sex if she could save them—and the scrap disappeared somewhere in the direction

of her bedroom, leaving her naked in front of Cal. She wasn’t so sure she was in charge anymore, but...it

was okay. Scratch that. More than okay—more like downright fantastic.

“Shower time,” he said roughly.

Right.
Shower.

“I don’t care.” She didn’t care anymore about concealing the truth. All she wanted was Cal and her bed,

the two sounding like the perfect combination.

“Shh.” His mouth brushed hers and then he scooped her up with one arm and headed for the shower,

which was fortunately more than big enough for two. The hot water had steamed up the bathroom, blurring

the edges. He set her on her feet on the water-warmed tiles and then stepped in, six-plus feet of hot, wet

male she couldn’t wait to hold. Even in the semidarkness, he was gorgeous, and when he held out a hand, it

seemed natural to take it. His fingers curled around hers, pulling her into the stream of hot water. Nothing

had prepared her for the heat, for the need burning through her.

She should have lit candles or had one of those aromatherapy-dispenser things puffing sweet stuff out

into the air. Cal didn’t seem to mind the lack in the romance department. He pulled her in close, her thighs

brushing his, her breasts pressed against his chest.
Heaven.

There was enough steam in the room to make things fuzzy, like the best kind of dream. Plus, this close,

she felt every inch of him, including the inches she’d just enjoyed. Cal held on to her until there was no

missing how much he was relishing this shower of theirs.

And she’d barely gotten started.

She reached for him, but he spun her gently around and placed her hands on the tiled wall.

“You touch me now, and this shower’s going to be over before it gets started,” he growled.

“You have a problem with that?” Suddenly, soap and hot water didn’t sound anywhere near as good as

having her way with Cal and the impressive erection he was sporting. She slipped a hand behind her,

reaching for him again.

He grunted, half amused, half impatient, then reached around her for the shampoo. “Behave.”

“Overrated,” she said, palming him.

“Good thing I don’t mind misbehaving with you some.” His rough whisper echoed in her ear. Then his

big fingers were massaging the shampoo through her hair. He was
good.
Or bad. She gave up trying to

figure it out, just let herself sink into the sensual press of his fingers against her head as he worked the

lather for long, dreamy minutes. She had no idea a shampoo could be so sensual. His nails scratched

erotically across her scalp, sending small shivers down her spine.

He didn’t stop there, either. When her hair was clean, he started in with the washcloth. The soft rain fell

around them, comforting and soothing, until she was all but boneless. The cloth traveled over her

shoulders, down her arms. He bathed her with the same thoroughness with which he approached

everything. Her back and her butt. Her front.

Oh, yes, please.

He ran the soapy cloth down her breasts. Once. Then again when she pushed her breasts into his hand

in silent demand. Her nipples were deliciously sensitive, tightening into greedy nubs as he traced a wicked

circle around the straining tips.

Needing more, she arched back into him. “Cal—”

“You bet,” he answered roughly.