The Sex On Beach Book Club (2 page)

She leaned her hips back against the table. “Fast-paced and sexy are more my style. You?”

Hell, yeah.
Looking at her, with her breasts pushing against that tank top, and her intense gaze, he was completely and one hundred percent into fast-paced and sexy. If flirting, companionship, and maybe sex was what she wanted, he was on board and ready. “Fast-paced and sexy work for me. Are you free tonight to get a drink or coffee?”

Her blue eyes shaded to nearly gray. “I would think someone like you would have plans.”

Wes narrowed his gaze. What was her game? Her remark had come out more like an accusation. “Nope. No plans once I close up the store.” He left the ball in her court.

She smiled, but her gaze roamed around the room then down to her watch. “Can I have a rain check? I have to run. Thank you for an interesting evening.”

Ice water chased out the heat in his gut as suspicion climbed up over his sex drive. She was up to something. “You're in a hurry?”

She started moving away. “Afraid so.”

Wes followed her to the front of the store to see what she had been watching. As she opened the door and left, he caught sight of Tanya and Cullen walking ahead of her.

What was Holly doing? It appeared to him she was following Cullen and Tanya. Why? Could she be one of Cullen's castoffs? But Cullen hadn't acted as if he knew her. Wes was so intent on watching her walk away, he nearly jumped at the voice behind him.

“Check her out before you get in her pants.”

Wes turned to look at George, whom he considered his best friend. These days, George played the retired businessman. He fudged the facts on the business he retired from and other minor details—like his name, rank, and social security number. But then, who was he to complain? George was the one who helped Wes obtain his new name and social security number. “She look dangerous to you?”

“Hell, yes. That woman instantly drained the blood from your head to your dick. That's the kind of shit that can get you killed.”

Wes laughed. “I must be getting old if I'm that obvious.” He sobered up. “But that woman is up to something. She seemed surprised at what book the club is reading, so why did she want to be in our book club?”

George looked over his glasses at Wes. “Want me to find out?”

Oh no, this one was all his. Wes was going to get to the bottom of sexy Holly. “No, I want you to stay here and watch the store. I'm going to go see just what Ms. Lust Over Love is up to.”

Since Wes knew where Cullen and Tanya were going, if Holly really was following them, it shouldn't be hard to catch up to her.

 

Holly stood on the docks a mile away from the bookstore and watched as the boat motored away, carrying Tanya and Cullen under the full moon. There was no two ways about it. She was screwed. She had done her preliminary research on Tanya Shaker and Wes Brockman.

But she had the wrong guy. Judging by the hand-holding, giggling, and Cullen's hand on Tanya's ass, Tanya was having an extramarital affair with Cullen, not Wes. Her client had been so sure his wife was cheating with the bookstore owner, Wes. “Shit,” she muttered to herself.

“Problem?”

Holly jumped as she watched Wes walk out from the shadows between two stores on the other side of the dock. Had he been spying on her?
What the hell?
She glared at him. “What are you doing here? And why are you sneaking up on me?”

He leaned against the wood rail. “Following you, which requires a certain stealth.”

She studied Brockman. The evening was cool, the moon was full, and there was a spill of lights from surrounding businesses now that he had emerged from the shadows. He looked dangerous, sexy, and very Bond-like in his expensive clothes and casual demeanor. As if following a woman he just met was perfectly acceptable for a guy who owned a bookstore. Not in Holly's world. Who was this guy? “What are you, some kind of stalker?”

His eyes crinkled, but he didn't quite smile. His full lips did a slight, sarcastic curve. “Call me curious. Why did you follow Cullen and Tanya?”

Seriously, what did he care? She tried to control her annoyance enough to fix a sincere smile on her face. “I wanted to return his book.” She raised her hand to show him the book Cullen had loaned her, then had forgotten in his hurry to get Tanya out to sea and naked.

Wes dropped his gaze to the book then looked back to her face. He pushed off the rail and took a long step toward her. “Give the book to me. I'll return it to him.”

Inhaling, she caught his scent, something very woodsy mixed with male heat. Sensual. A little quiver danced in her stomach. She blinked and made herself focus. Her target wasn't Brockman, it was Cullen, who had just sailed off for an evening of moonlit sex. Experience taught her that the illicit lovers wouldn't be back for a couple of hours. In the meantime, Wes knew Cullen so she could get the information she needed from him. “I'd really like to thank Cullen myself. What's his last name? I'll look him up.”

He leaned down and said in a low tone, “And how do I know you're not a stalker with murder on her mind?”

Oh boy, she was getting a bad case of poor judgment. Wes was a little mysterious and a little dark, two qualities that made her very curious. Why would he follow her to the docks? Because she turned down his invitation for drinks? Or another reason? And damn it, did he have to be so powerfully male? Sexy? He had that deep, passionate quality in a man that made a woman think that when she was naked with him, he'd be solely focused on her. Maybe her hormones needed a dip in the ocean. To Wes, she answered, “Why would I be stalking Cullen? I just want to return his book.”

Wes moved close enough to touch her, to make her feel like he
might
touch her. But he didn't. “Guess you'll have to find another way.” He turned and walked away.

Holly stood there, a little stunned. Was that payback for her turning him down in the bookstore? Shaking it off, she put Wes out of her mind. She could find out Cullen's last name on her own. She went around to a couple of the businesses, and stopped people on the docks, asking questions. But she drew a big fat zero in her quest for information on Cullen.

After twenty minutes, Holly knew she was wasting her time. She needed Cullen's last name to start doing research on him, and for her reports. Her client needed pictures and detailed reports—including Cullen's last name—to prove Tanya was cheating on him. Phil needed those to invoke a clause in the prenuptial agreement that would significantly reduce the amount of money Tanya would get.

She was sure that Wes knew Cullen's last name. All she had to do was convince him to tell her. Holly hurried through the cool night and reached the bookstore just in time to see Wes come outside, turn around, and lock the door.

Slowing her pace, she walked up. “Hi.” Damn, he was still sexy in that overbearing male way.

He pulled his key out of the lock, then turned his gaze on her. “Change your mind?” He glanced down at the book in her hand. “Want me to return Cullen's book?” He added a grin that should be labeled as dangerous.

Holly leaned against the side of the bookstore and shrugged. “I have time to kill. Thought I'd see if you still wanted to get a drink. Unless”—she opened her eyes wide—“you really are afraid that I'm a stalker with murder on my mind.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth as he shoved his keys into his pants pocket. “If not murder, then what—sex?”

Oh yeah.
Wait, no! God, she was weak tonight. Maybe it was her bad week. She decided to change tactics. “I asked you out for a drink, Brockman. All you have to say is that you aren't interested.” She turned and started to walk away.

“Does that work?” he called after her.

She'd only gone a couple feet and turned back. “What?”

“The offensive. Does it work?”

She couldn't help smiling. “Usually. But then, I don't usually have to beg men for their company.”

He directed his gaze in a slow examination down her body, clad in a burgundy tank top and form-fitting jeans, then back to her face. His green eyes darkened. “Tell me more about this begging.”

Down, girl.
What was it about him? She shot back, “For that, you'd have to buy the drinks.”

He stepped closer, throttling his voice down to a dangerous rumble. “Sex on the Beach?”

She swore the ocean roared in her head. Her hormones surged up into huge waves of longing, washing over her. “You're offering me sex on the beach?”

His grin widened, crinkling his gorgeous eyes. “The drink. What did you think I meant?”

Her thighs tightened in response.
Get a grip, Hillbay—it's just a reaction to a handsome man and a long dry spell of no sex.
Holly was all for sex, but on her terms. She always kept her emotions in check. She was the cool one—the one that walked away when the relationship had played out. It was time to take back the power. She said, “That information will cost you more than the price of a drink.”

He didn't hesitate. “Name your price.”

“Steak.” She was hungry. And food might keep her from thinking about sex.

“Done. You can follow me in your car.”

She was practically dizzy from the pace he set. Or maybe that was pent-up lust breaking free. “Follow you where?”

“My house. On the beach. I'll make the drinks and we'll grill some steaks out on my deck and watch the waves. Or maybe listen to the waves, since it's dark out.” His grin suggested more than wave-watching.

She thought about that, but in the end, Wes had what she wanted. Information on Cullen.

Not sex.

She lifted her chin. “I'll follow you. I can spare an hour or so.”

He nodded like it was no more than he expected.

Annoyed, she said, “I'm not sleeping with you.”

He moved up to her until she felt the brush of his breath. “No?”

She felt a tremor in her belly that spread wet heat.
Keep control of the situation,
she reminded herself. “I don't go to bed on the first date.”

He reached down and picked up her free hand in his larger one. “Kiss on the first date?”

She should put a stop to this. But the feel of his hand wrapped around hers was warm and sensual. She opened her mouth to tell him they weren't dating, but ended up saying, “If I like the man.”

He ran his thumb over her palm. “You like me. Make out?”

Regaining her wits, she jerked her hand away. “Ain't gonna happen, book boy.”

His face blanked at the nickname, then a grin spread out over his face. “Why don't we go to my house and take these rules of yours for a test drive?”

She was playing with fire. She knew it but couldn't stop herself. Wes was not the man she expected when she walked into his bookstore. There was so much more, and she had a strange compulsion to peel back the layers and find out just who this man was.

Could she do that and keep her clothes on? Or maybe do it naked, but keep her emotions in check?

She was going to find out. “Lead on, book boy.”

W
es flipped the steaks on the grill, then turned to watch Holly walk out the sliding glass door holding two drinks. She had volunteered to make the drinks in his kitchen while he cooked the steaks. He grinned. “Sex on the Beach?”

She handed him a glass. “Is that a fixation for you?”

Wes put down his tongs, then took her drink and set both glasses down on the table. He stepped closer to see if she'd move away. “Sex? Or doing it on the beach?”

She held her ground. “On the beach.”

“No.” The roar of the waves mixed with the crackle of flames in the fire pit and the sizzle of the steak on the barbeque. He put his hands on her wrists, then ran his palms up her bare arms to her shoulders. “But I'm fixated on you at the moment.” Her skin felt smooth and he wanted more. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so attracted to a woman. What had she been doing following Cullen out to the dock? That was part of the attraction, trying to figure her out. “Who are you, Holly? Why did you come to my book club tonight?”

She stared at him. “I've been looking for a new hobby.”

He nearly laughed. “I don't think so. I think you're after something, but I can't put my finger on what it is.”

She grinned. “You haven't figured it out by now? It's the steak. I've been looking for a man to cook for me.”

He knew they were playing a game, knew he should push her harder to find out what she was really after. But her skin felt so good, her body was so close, and he wanted her. “Yeah? Do you find that sexy in a man, Holly?”

She tilted her head slightly. “It's on my list.”

“Ah, the list. If I remember correctly, this was on your list, too.” He lowered his head slowly, giving her time to turn away. But she didn't and Wes kissed her. Her mouth was soft and welcoming. He slid one hand around her back and another behind her neck. When she didn't object, he pulled her closer to his body. She tasted hot and slightly sweet from the drink. His blood pressure shot up. He wanted more of her, and slid his tongue deep in her mouth. She put her arms around him and Wes went hard and ready.

Holly pulled back. “Is that the steaks burning?”

He blinked. “Hell.” Letting her go, he rescued the steaks.
Unbelievable.
A single kiss had rattled him. He carried the steaks into the house, added a baked potato from the microwave, and took a deep breath. Then he went back out and put the plates on the table.

Holly sat down. She appeared relaxed, but the flush across her face suggested that was a lie. She better damn well be as overheated as he was. Cutting into his steak, he said, “We can check off the kiss.”

She looked at him blankly.

Thank God—she was rattled.
He grinned, feeling a little more in control. “Your first date list.”

“Right.” She set to work eating her steak.

He watched her, enjoying the view. Then he asked, “Do I get to know your last name?”

“Hillbay. What's Cullen's last name?” Holly took a drink of her Sex on the Beach, then fixed her gaze on him.

“Vail.”

“That easy?” She looked surprised.

Wes shrugged. “I don't care about Cullen. But you interest me.”

“Don't get too interested.” She took a bite of her baked potato, then asked, “Is that Cullen's boat he and Tanya went out on?”

But she did care about Cullen for some reason. What was she after? “You're very interested in Cullen.”

She looked up from cutting another piece of steak. “If it's his boat, I'll know where to return the book.”

She was a good liar, but it made no sense. She wouldn't go to this much trouble when all she had to do was leave the book with him and he'd return it. That's what most women would do. “Let's talk about you. What kind of work do you do?”

“I'm in real estate. The steak is good. You're not a bad cook, Brockman.”

He noted the slip of calling him by his last name. It was the second time tonight. Most women didn't do that, unless they were in certain fields, like physical education or police work. Wes was not a fan of cops. To cover his thoughts, he nodded at her compliment and said, “Want some coffee?”

She opened her mouth to answer when a weak, pathetic bark caught their attention. It sounded like it was right below Wes's deck. A wretched little whimper followed. Wes frowned, wondering what that noise was from.

Holly matched his frown. “Do you have a dog?”

He shook his head. “No, but whatever it is sounds sick or hurt.” He got up, went into the kitchen, and found a flashlight. When he went back out, Holly stood at the edge of his deck, looking over the rail. “See anything?”

She shook her head. “I hear crying, though. Like a puppy.” Turning her head, she met his gaze. “It does sound hurt.”

To back her up, the creature whimpered again.

Wes opened the gate and started down the stairs. He stopped, turned, and got an eyeful of Holly's breasts. She was right behind him, one step up. He sucked in a breath, catching her slightly spicy citrus scent. It was a real effort to angle his gaze from her full breasts to her face. “I was going to tell you to stay on the deck.”

“Enjoying the view?” She looked down at him.

He wanted to drop the flashlight, pick her up, and go to his bedroom. Grinning, he said, “I'm alive and male, so hell yes.” Just as he was thinking of getting her naked, he heard the cry again. He sighed and made his way down the steps. Once on the sand, he followed the sounds and swung the flashlight beam under his deck.

The shaft of light caught a pair of golden eyes in a little fur face. He ran the beam over the animal. It looked like a little ball of misery with eyes.

“A puppy,” Holly said softly. She had dropped to her knees. “He's all wet and shivering. Is that blood?”

Crouched down beside her, Wes could see the little guy was terrified. And hurt. Blood appeared to be seeping from one ear. “Looks like someone tried to drown it.”

Holly stiffened beside him. “Bastards.”

“Yeah.” There were a lot of bastards out there. He noticed that Holly didn't argue with him or deny that someone would try to drown a puppy. She looked at the facts—a puppy rarely ended up in the ocean all by himself. “Hold the light and I'll try to get under there and coax him out.”

“You hold it, I'll get him.”

Before he could argue, Holly started forward on all fours. “He's hurt, Holly, he might bite. Get back here—”

“Shut up, Brockman, you'll scare him.”

She was halfway to the pup. Wes closed his mouth and kept the light on the shivering little dog. But his gaze went to her very shapely ass, wiggling as she made her way to the animal. The sight made his blood rush to his dick.

Her voice floated back. “It's okay, little guy. I'm not going to hurt you.”

She stopped a foot from the puppy and kept talking to him. The puppy cried, wriggled, and finally went right to her. She scooped him up in one arm and crawled back out.

Lucky dog, Wes thought. Holly had nestled him up to her breasts.

“He's soaking wet,” she said as she shimmied out from under the deck and she stood up. “His ear is bloody and he's shaking.”

Wes conceded that the puppy deserved her body heat, but he was still envious. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he said, “Let's get him inside.” They walked up the stairs and into his house.

She stopped in the kitchen and looked around blankly. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Even holding a bedraggled, wet dog, he was attracted to her. But she was right, they needed to take care of the puppy. “I have one in my bathroom, come on.” He led the way through his living room with his large fish tank on the left. Once he reached the front door, he turned left down a short hallway that opened to his bedroom. He had French doors that led to the deck so he could let in the ocean breeze. He ignored that, and his king-sized bed with its burgundy comforter which matched Holly's top, to make a right into his master bathroom.

Holly followed him into the bathroom. The puppy had stopped crying and nestled up against her chest. Her shirt was soaked. Wes leaned down and took a closer look at the puppy. He appeared to be a Golden Retriever mix. Clearly, he was smart enough to save himself from drowning. His right ear had a cut that had stopped bleeding. One of his back legs also had a minor cut. Mostly, Wes thought he was scared, exhausted from swimming in the ocean, and probably hungry.

He went to the cupboard and got out his first aid kit, a couple towels, and a washcloth. He heard Holly running water into the sink. When he turned around, she had talked the dog into letting her stand him in the sink full of water and rinse the sand and blood off him. For a dog that almost drowned, that was damned surprising. “What did you do, hypnotize him?”

She was bent over, putting her very fine ass next to his hips. Then she looked up in the mirror. “He's too tired to fight me, I think.”

Wes set the first aid stuff on the counter and held open a thick towel. “Let's dry him off.”

Holly lifted the dog from the water and Wes wrapped him up in the towel, gently rubbing his fur. The warm water seemed to have stopped his shivering. Finally they had him as dry as they could get him. He said, “Hold him while I put first aid cream on his cuts.”

She nestled the puppy to her chest. Wes leaned over, trying to ignore her boobs in his face, and put the cream on the dog.

He licked Wes's face.

Holly laughed, her breasts bouncing in his face. The temperature in the bathroom shot up to sizzling.

He stepped back, grabbed the cap to the tube, and said the first thing he thought of. “Your shirt is all wet and has blood on it. I'll get you one of mine.” He left the bathroom, and felt a little cooler when he stepped into his bedroom. Going to his dresser, he opened a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt.

Holding the shirt, he turned around to see Holly standing by his bed cradling the puppy and smoothing her hand over his head.

Clearly, he was a smart dog. Wes said, “I'll hold him while you change.”

Her gaze went to his face. He saw a gentle, almost naked longing, an expression that locked his breath in his chest. Without any real decision, he walked up to her, feeling the damp puppy between them. “He'll be okay. We'll feed him, he'll get some sleep and be good as new. But he's going to need a home.” He reached out to push back a piece of hair that had fallen from her clip. “Want a dog?”

Her eyes hardened. “No. I don't have time for a dog. Or any animals.” She shoved the dog at him and took the shirt. Then she went into the bathroom and closed the door.

 

Holly had to get herself under control.
Stupid puppy.
She had just felt sorry for it. What kind of monster tried to drown a puppy? But she knew, she'd been a cop for over five years and had seen plenty of monsters. Ripping off her shirt, she realized that her bra was also wet. She undid the clasp and took that off, too.

Then she pulled on the soft black T-shirt Wes had given her. It smelled like him. Without her bra on, the shirt rubbed her nipples and made her feel restless and hot.

Horny.

She looked at her flushed face in the mirror.
Be honest,
she told herself,
a man rescuing a puppy is sexy. Big deal. Get over it.
She needed to find out all she could about Cullen and get the hell out of Wes Brockman's house. She was here to do a job. Nothing else. She reached up, took the clip from her hair, and finger-combed it. She tried to blank out the way Wes had looked when he asked her if she wanted the dog. Like he wanted to give her whatever she desired.

Holly didn't need animals or men in her life. She knew exactly what she was—an excellent PI. Her life was her work. She'd learned the hard way that love and a family of her own weren't for her. She didn't make those kinds of commitments anymore.

Not even to a dog.

She expertly twisted her hair back up, then picked up her shirt. Wes was right, there was blood on it. She rinsed all the dog hair and sand out of the sink, and washed the blood out of her shirt and bra. After drying them the best she could, she finally balled them up to stuff in her purse.

Having stamped out her moment of weakness, she left the bathroom to go find Wes. She went through the living room and into the kitchen but both he and the puppy were missing. Weird. She looked out on the deck and didn't see him there either.

Holly turned back and looked around the kitchen. There were two doorways, the one she had come through from the living room, and a second one that was closer to the sliding glass door.

A dining room, maybe?

There was a light burning so Holly walked into the room. On the left was a beautiful bay window that had a built-in seat to watch the waves during the day. Tonight she got a view of the full moon reflecting off the ocean. There was an entire wall of bookshelves across the room. To separate this room from the living room was a big aquarium that hummed and gurgled while colorful fish swam. A doorway to the living room opened up on the left of the fish tank. She could make a big circle, going right into the kitchen, then right again, and end up back in this room. Next to the fish tank were two deep recliners with a table and lamp between them. A baseball and a book sat on the table.