Rebound (Tryst Island Series) (3 page)

“Very often.”

“But…” She swallowed the words clogging her throat.

“But what?”

“I… Robyn was perfect.”

“She was.” Her belly dipped at that. “But when she smiled, she didn’t smile with her whole face. Not the way you do. She didn’t embrace life. She just kind of clung to the edges. You toss yourself in.” He fondled the neck of his bottle. “It’s an attractive quality, Kris. A man can’t help wondering…”

“Wondering what?”

“If you make love that way too.”

Ooh. Those words skimmed over the air between them, smooth and silky and oh so beguiling.

Not that he needed to seduce her.
 

Hell, all he had to do was
breathe
and she wanted him. Still…

“Are you drunk?”

He grinned. “Not in the slightest.”

“This is probably a bad idea.”

His grin broadened.

“Cam, we’re both on the rebound.”

He shifted, as though something was making his position uncomfortable. “Sometimes you score the winning point off a rebound.”

“A basketball analogy? Really?” He knew she was a football fan.

“If the shoe fits.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. His heat enveloped her, sank in and made her want to weep. She could only imagine how good he would feel touching her
all over
. Pressing her into a downy mattress. Entering her in a hard, hot thrust…

Lordy. She could imagine it. So well, her body was already preparing for it. A slick dampness eased between her thighs. Her nipples pebbled. Her womb clenched in hunger.

“What would the others think?”

“Why would we tell them?” His expression was far too innocent. “It’s only a kiss.”

“One kiss?”

“One kiss. A forfeit. If you win the game, I kiss you. If I win, you kiss me.”

She glanced at his lips. Strong. Powerful. Perfectly formed. She’d wanted to feel them, taste them,
have
them since the day they’d met. Why was she dithering? What was she afraid of?

Well, other than heartbreak.

But she’d long ago learned that heartbreak could come whether you were careful or reckless.

Might as well be reckless.

She would rather enjoy a decadent sliver of fudgy brownie than suffer through a lifetime of rice cakes.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

He stared at her. The tension between them mounted, hummed. His Adam’s apple made the slow journey up and back down his throat. Then he picked up the cards, shuffled once and quickly dealt out a new hand.

Kristi’s pulse raced. Her mind whirled. Her body trembled.

She was going to do it.

After all these years.

She was going to kiss Cam Jackson.

Chapter Two

Cam hoped to God Kristi couldn’t see the tremor in his hands as he tossed the cards into piles. He couldn’t believe he’d finally worked up the nerve to ask. He couldn’t believe she’d said yes. That he was finally going to get a taste of the most luscious woman he’d ever known.

He hadn’t always wanted her like this. When they’d first met, he’d seen her as a more of a little sister, goofy and funny and always up for some grand adventure. But as time passed and he’d gotten to know her better, gotten a glimpse into her soul, his interest had been piqued.
 

When she’d graduated from wearing oversized football jerseys to outré outfits that enhanced her figure, he’d been intrigued. But in the last year or so, she’d become something of an obsession for him.

One day, last summer, everything had changed.

He’d taken her out on the jet ski—just a ride around the island. A lark.

And holy hell.

The feel of her arms around him, her scent as it wafted on the breeze, the enticing pressure of her breasts against his back. He’d nearly gone cross-eyed.

He’d always loved her sense of humor, the way she looked at the world. He loved that she was smart and fearless. And that every moment he spent with her was just plain fun.

But that weekend, he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

Now all he could think about were her full breasts, the enticing curve of her hips, that hourglass waist. He spent a good portion of the day and the better part of the night imagining how it would feel to hold her sumptuous body against his, caress her generous curves, bury his face between those glorious swells. More than once, he’d caught himself thinking of her when he was with Robyn.

Well, he wasn’t with Robyn now.
 

And she wasn’t with Rolf.

And, win or lose this game, he was going to win. He was going to get what he wanted. He was finally—
finally
—going to taste her. Maybe more. If he was lucky. He hoped to hell the others stayed at the bar long enough for his plan to come to fruition.
 

Though it wouldn’t hurt to speed things up and throw the game.

He tossed out a card.
 

She wrinkled her nose—damn, she was cute when she wrinkled her nose. “Really, Cam?”

“Huh? What?”

“That’s your lead? The queen of spades?”

“Yup.”

“Are you trying to shoot the moon? Because I already took a point.”

“Just play.” She shook her head and underplayed the queen. He ate a whopping thirteen points. And then he led with the jack of diamonds. She took it with her ace and then went on to win the hand.

He really wasn’t paying attention. He was busy planning his assault. If he lost the game,
he
got to kiss
her
. And he wanted to
kiss
her
. In fact, the desire, the need to orchestrate the entire clinch bubbled deep in his gut.

He dealt again, trying not to glance at the clock. This should be the last hand if he played his cards right. Or wrong, as the case may be.

And yes. She won. Easily. In fact, she spanked him.

Although he didn’t let his mind linger on
that
image. It was far too distracting.

Instead, he leaped to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over. He ignored it—and her little
‘eep’
—and came around the table in a rush to yank her into his arms and…yes! Yes. The feel of her, molded against him, was delicious. He’d known it would be.

The scent of her shampoo, or her perfume, or just Kristi, enticed him. He drew it in, savoring the moment, the knife’s edge of intense anticipation.
 

“You won,” he murmured, gazing down into her wide hazel eyes. “Now I have to kiss you.”

Her lashes fluttered. Her lips pursed. She wiggled a little against him and his cock stirred. “You
have
to? Well, isn’t that just—”

 
She didn’t finish. Whatever she’d been about to say never made it out of her mouth because he took her then. He dipped his head and settled his lips over hers and ate the words, consumed them. A thrill shot through his solar plexus at the contact. Warm, supple, sweet. Fragrant.

He surprised her by diving in like that. She went a little stiff, but it didn’t take long for her to relax and respond.

And hell. Did she respond. Did she ever.

The kiss, which he’d intended to be slow and provocative, quickly raged into something else altogether. And when she uttered a throaty moan and her tongue peeped out to touch his, he nearly lost his mind.

He changed the angle of his head and deepened the kiss, holding her in place with one hand to her chin. The other roved.
 

God, she was amazing. He drew his palm over the flare of her hips. It dipped in at her waist and then rose up her ribcage. He nearly passed out when he skimmed the underside of her breast. Nearly passed out because all the blood in his brain shot straight to his cock. His whole body thrummed with every beat of his heart.

He cupped her and she made another charming little noise. When he scraped a thumb over her nipple, she whimpered.
 

He longed to suck it. Draw it into his mouth and nibble and nip. Make her thrash.
 

He lifted her up onto the table and when she started to protest, he shifted his attention to her neck, nuzzling her there, right behind her earlobe. She gasped and garbled a word that might have been “more” and dug her nails into his shoulders.
 

He loved that as he drew her higher, teased her to a fever pitch, her responses became like his—feral.
 

He’d known she’d be like this in her passion. Wild. Unrestrained. Demanding. He loved it. Fucking loved it…but he wanted, needed, more.

He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.

His euphoria tumbled into the dark abyss when she stopped him. He pulled back to look at her, although pulling back was the last damned thing he wanted right now. Fortunately, a tiny chunk of his brain was still functioning. It reminded him he’d been raised to be a gentleman.

He could go for the jugular again. He could renew his attack on the sensitive spot he’d found, the one at the base of her neck that made her warble and squirm and arch into his cock with a mind-bending pressure. He could make her forget whatever stupid objection she was about to present.
 

But he wanted more than a mindless fuck with Kristi.

He wanted a lot more.

“What is it?” he asked. And damn, his voice was rough. He barely got the words out.

“You–you said one kiss.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

She laughed as she pushed him away and rose from where he’d splayed her on the table.

Yeah. He’d been ready—he
was
ready—to fuck her on the dining room table.

Some evil ifrit in his head howled at the idea of all the future meals they’d share. Here. At this table. And none of the other Dawgs would know the manner in which he and Kristi had defiled it.

Lucy would fucking kill him if he screwed her business partner—or anyone for that matter—on her dining room table.

But then, Lucy would never know.

And his cock was rather insistent.

His cock wanted to be in her.
Now
.

He reached for her. Stroked her neck, teasing that tender spot.

She shivered but stepped out of his reach, twining her fingers together as though she need to restrain herself from grabbing him again.
 

Then again, that could have been hopeful thinking on his part.

“We need to talk, Cam.”

He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly in an attempt to regain control of his wayward lust.
Fuck.
A conversation. He hated conversations. Especially at moments like this. Right now his warrior was riding high. He wanted nothing more than to conquer. Storm the castle. Plow through her defenses. His battering ram was primed and ready to go.

And she was calling a halt.

Fuck.

“Okay.” He turned away. He couldn’t look at her.
 
Not now that he
knew
. Knew what she felt like in his arms. Knew what she tasted like. Knew how fucking responsive she could be when he—

“Protection.”

One word. As though she couldn’t manage any more than that. And forced out to boot.

And, ah. That word.

He whipped around and gaped at her, his pulse rushing in his ears. She wasn’t calling a halt. She was…negotiating surrender. A bolt of electricity sizzled through him. “Did you say protection?”

She shrugged. Just a tiny lift of one shoulder but it made him zero in on her breasts. Her nipples were hard, visible through the silky material of her blouse. “We’ve never talked about…you know…health stuff.”

Health stuff. Right. “I have condoms.” Shit, he had a full, unopened box in his suitcase. Not that he’d planned this once he’d seen her name pop up on the calendar this afternoon. But it did illustrate the value of positive thinking.

“Thank God,” she gushed. He was dying to find out if she gushed elsewhere. “I didn’t bring any.”

“And for the record, I’m clean.”

“Me too.”

“On the pill?”
 

“Yes.”

Shit yeah. They didn’t need the condoms.

Their gazes locked. They stared at each other for a long moment. Tension crackled.

“Do you think you can make it downstairs?”

She tipped her head to the side like a puppy who thought she heard something about
going for a walk
. “Downstairs?”

“I’m in the grotto.” He’d made sure to get here first. Whoever arrived first got their choice of rooms. He’d made damn sure he got the single in the basement. Far away from everyone else.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t say a word. She turned tail and sprinted for the door leading to the staircase.

Naturally, he followed.

The bottom floor of the house was one big rumpus room with a single bedroom and bath on one end. It featured an enormous wide screen TV and a pool table and several comfortable sofas. But Cam had the bed in mind for this, his first time with Kristi.