Crash Into Me (18 page)

Sonny
accepted a gift with surprise, reading the card aloud. “To Summer. Love, Ben,”
was written in dramatic, feminine script. She put a hand over her heart, as if
deeply touched. “I didn’t know you felt this way,” she teased, much to Carly’s
delight. When she opened the package, the smile fell from her face. “It’s
beautiful,” she said, lifting the necklace up to see the stone in the sunlight.
It was the most elegant piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. “Thank you.”

“Carly
picked it,” he said brusquely.

It
was no less than she’d suspected, but hearing him say it out loud, in front of
everyone, made her chest tighten and her throat close up.

Throughout
the remainder of the day, Sonny analyzed Nathan through an investigator’s eyes.
He had a lot of jealousy issues with Ben, but he wasn’t into surfing, and it
was a stretch to think he’d planted trace evidence in an attempt to frame his
hotshot older brother.

JT
Carver was a surfer, but another unlikely suspect. He’d been out catching waves
with Ben the morning Olivia was murdered, and was actually his alibi. JT had a
few marks on his record, minor charges involving drugs and alcohol, but there
was something about his Jeff Spicoli routine Sonny didn’t buy. Perhaps it was
merely an indication that he knew he wasn’t living up to his full potential,
because although she found him clever, at times his joviality seemed forced.

Unfortunately,
he’d flaked out on the party, so she couldn’t study his handsome countenance
for signs of deception.

By
late afternoon, Grace and Judge left, and soon after, Nathan and Peter made
their excuses. James showed up just in time to frolic with Carly in the heated
pool. The two of them substituted a lot of playful wrestling for sex, just as
Sonny and Ben had done on the beach that morning. When the pair got a little
too frisky, they were relegated indoors to watch DVDs.

Sonny
wasn’t sure which situation was more dangerous: Carly and James hanging all
over each other, half-naked, underwater, or sitting together, clothed but
unsupervised, on the living room couch.

Ben
kept glancing toward the sliding glass door uneasily.

“Let’s
go in the Jacuzzi,” Sonny said, stretching her arms over her head. After this
morning’s workout, her muscles would love it.

His
eyes wandered over her, then drifted back to the house, but he nodded.

It
was easy to understand his reluctance. With Carly and James nearby, he couldn’t
seduce her, and that put a damper on his plans for the evening.

Ben
was already wearing blue-and-white boardshorts, so he removed his T-shirt and
tossed it on the patio table. Sitting down on the coping at the edge of the
Jacuzzi, he waited for her to undress with undisguised interest.

Following
his lead, she took off her jeans and tank top right there, stripping down to
her black string-bikini. She was glad James was indoors, because it was very
brief, and she drew the line at revving up teenaged boys.

Ben
gaped at her, devouring her body with his eyes.

Frowning,
she checked her swimsuit, making sure everything important was covered. “What
do you think?” she asked, because he was still ogling her.

“I
think I need a cold shower.”

She
laughed. “I was afraid I had a peekaboo nipple.”

He
lowered himself into the water with a groan.

Sonny
took a seat beside him, enjoying his discomfort immensely. Leaning back and
closing her eyes, she let the hot water massage away her tension.

“So,”
he began after a while, “how are we going to get over your, uh, phobia?”

“I
suppose you have a few ideas,” she commented dryly.

“You
could tie my hands behind my back with your bikini top.”

She
smiled at the suggestion, which would leave her upper half conveniently bare.
“No.”

“Okay,
then. Your bikini bottoms.”

Laughing,
she shook her head.

He
was silent for a moment. “I would never hurt you.”

She
looked over at him. “I know.”

“Then
let me prove it to you.”

Getting
into the Jacuzzi with him had been a mistake, she realized. Lengthening shadows
stretched across the patio, cloaking the pool in darkness. No one could see
them. “What about Carly?” she asked anyway, her eyes darting toward the house.

“I’m
not suggesting anything…X-rated.”

Sonny
worried at her lower lip, considering. It was so easy to pretend she really was
Summer Moore, that Grant didn’t exist, that the situation was natural,
unplanned, spontaneous.

It
was so tempting to give in to what Ben wanted. What she wanted.

“Okay,”
she said. “But you have to promise you won’t touch me.”

He
nodded slowly and she knew he would keep his word. In effect, it was the same
offer he’d made earlier, sans bikini top, but she didn’t want to have to tie
him up to trust him.

“What
do you want me to do?”

A
thrill raced through her at his words. She did like a man who was eager to
please. “Um…sit up there again.” She pointed at the coping around the edge of
the pool. “And keep your arms at your sides.”

Resting
his palms on the coping, he raised himself up, drawing her eye to his rock-hard
triceps and strong forearms. Warm water ran in rivulets down his torso, into
the low waistband of his shorts. The fabric clung to his thighs, covering him
almost to the knee. Studying the way his body hair was plastered to his calves,
she fantasized about rubbing her smooth legs against his rough ones, delighting
in the differences between them.

Taking
a deep breath, she brought her eyes back to his face.

“Now
what?” he asked.

She
moved closer, placing her hand on his knee and situating herself between his
spread thighs. The position was provocative, considering that it brought her
breasts level with his lap, but it was kind of awkward for kissing.

It
was getting too hot in the Jacuzzi anyway, she decided, boosting herself up out
of the water. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she perched her bottom on one
well-muscled thigh, carefully avoiding the erection that was already tenting
the front of his shorts.

His
white-knuckled hands gripped the edge of the coping, but he didn’t move.
Holding himself stock-still, he waited, his mouth as tense as his body.

At
dusk, the temperature was no longer balmy, but she didn’t feel the chill. Her
heart was racing, drumming a wild beat at the base of her throat. Her nipples
peaked with arousal, pushing against the wet fabric of her bathing suit.

Lifting
a trembling hand to his face, she traced his lips with her fingertip, as if to
make sure they were real. They felt real, and warm, if not exactly pliant. Leaning
in, she kissed the crescent-shaped scar above his mouth.

He
inhaled a sharp breath.

Taking
the plunge, she threaded her fingers through his hair and flattened her breasts
against his chest, kissing him like she meant it. His mouth was hot and open,
eager for her tongue, and she gave it to him, tasting him deeply.

It
was incredibly, unbearably exciting. Pleasure spread through her, pulsing
between her thighs. After a few more kisses, she was rubbing herself along the
length of his erection, feeling him harden even more, hearing him groan.

Then
he broke his promise not to touch her. Putting his hands on her hips, he pushed
her back gently, ending the contact and the kiss.

Panting,
she blinked up at him in confusion.

“This
is going further than I thought.”

Remembering
Carly, she experienced a sharp stab of disappointment. It wasn’t every day
Sonny got this comfortable with a man. Never, in fact. Even with Grant she was
careful to maintain a safe distance, and their relationship was platonic.

She
laughed softly, moistening her throbbing lips. “Too X-rated for you?”

At
her hips, his fingers clenched. “Let me get rid of James.”

Ducking
her head, she pulled away from him, away from temptation. “Sorry. The window to
my capitulation just closed for the evening.”

He
muttered several inventive curses, all directed at his daughter’s boyfriend. As
it turned out, Ben’s animosity was justified, and after he helped her climb out
of the Jacuzzi, he was awarded an immediate outlet for his frustration.

Inside
the house, on the living room couch, James and Carly were engaging in some
inappropriate behavior of their own.

When
Ben saw James with his hands all over his daughter, he snapped. Striding
forward with a furious growl, he lifted James off Carly and threw him on the ground.
It might have ended there if James’ instinctive reaction hadn’t been to come up
swinging.

“Leave
her alone,” James yelled, launching himself at Ben.

Having
little experience with the cycle of abuse, Ben didn’t realize that James was
only protecting himself—and Carly. Sonny, however, recognized the feral gleam
in the boy’s eyes all too well. James only understood what he knew, and he’d
been taught that when a man put his hands on you, he intended to inflict pain.

Sonny
was forced to intervene. Subduing two overwrought males at the same time was
tricky, in that there were twice as many flying fists and elbows. James was
smaller, but he was scrappy, agile, and combative, not an unworthy opponent.
She went for Ben, for having instigated the fight, he deserved it more.

Jumping
on his back, she slid her arms up under his and laced her fingers behind his
neck, rendering his upper body motionless. It was a good way to get her teeth
knocked out by a bucking head, so she kept her face close to his neck. “He’s just
a kid,” she said into his ear, trying to appeal to reason.

“Goddamn
it,” Ben grated, struggling against her, his chest heaving.

Sonny
held tight. Carly was wailing, begging for him to stop, and James, lost in the
haze of violence, broke loose with a right hook so well placed that Ben’s head
rocked back, hitting Sonny’s lower lip so hard she saw stars.

Carly
switched sides in a split second. “Don’t hit my dad, you asshole!” She dove
toward James, tackling him, and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs.

Sonny
almost couldn’t bear to watch the impending disaster. If Carly hit James, James
would hit her back, Ben would beat James senseless, and in the end, someone
would be dead, badly injured, or in jail.

It
didn’t happen. Carly drew her arm back to strike, but James caught her wrist
midair, stilling her hand. Blinking rapidly, like a just-awakened dreamer, he
scanned the mayhem in the room. Carly was crying, tears streaming down her
pretty face. Ben was rubbing his jaw and glaring, daring him to feel lucky.

Sonny
felt blood trickle from her lower lip. When James saw it, his face paled.

“Shit,”
he said, letting his head fall back against the hardwood floor. Still sobbing,
Carly crawled away from him, into her father’s arms.

Without
another word, James got to his feet, walked to the door, and left.

James awoke at the coldest hour of the
day, just before dawn. He was curled up in the fetal position, in a damp,
uncomfortable crevice between rocks, at what he’d come to think of as his own
personal hideaway on Windansea Beach.

He
was warm in some places, freezing where his body touched the sand. A hand was
shoved down the front of his pants, for heat, he supposed, or comfort. He awoke
this way almost every morning and it never failed to embarrass him.

Wiping
grains of sand from his face, he realized that he wasn’t alone. And the hand
down his pants wasn’t his.

“Carly,”
he whispered, cranking his head around to see her, snuggled up behind him.
“Wake up.”

She
mumbled something unintelligible and shifted, pushing her hand down farther,
seeking warmth.

He
groaned, wondering if it was too cold for him to get hard. Nope.

“James?”
she asked, feeling his reaction.

“Take
your hand out of my pants.”

Sleepily,
she complied, moving away from the danger zone. “It’s so cold,” she said,
sliding her palms over his clenched stomach muscles. “Make me warm.” She put
her mouth against his neck and did that thing she knew he liked.

“Carly,
don’t,” he protested weakly. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“Why?”

He
turned to face her, and she initiated a frontal attack, throwing one of her
legs over his hip and slipping her arms around his neck. Arching her back, she
put all of her soft parts against his hard ones. “Touch me,” she said against
his ear. “I’m so cold.”

She
didn’t feel cold. She felt hot, all over. Her mouth, when it met his. Her
hands, in his hair, under his shirt. Her stomach, silky and smooth, when he
splayed his fingers over it.