Wicked Nights (25 page)

enough. He could do this over and over for the next fifty years or so.

Since he had only tonight, however, he’d make the most of every second. He pulled back and then sank

into her again, deeper this time. Did it again. Piper’s body pulled at him, trying to hold on to him, as though

that part of her was in full agreement with his over-and-over-for-half-of-forever sentiment. He could feel

the sharp pulses as she got nearer, and he reached a hand between them, happy to give her what she

wanted.

He braced his other hand against the pillow beside her head, loving the way her hair spilled over his

fingers, her face close enough to touch. She smelled like green apples and soap, Piper and woman, a sweet,

sexy scent with an edge that drove him crazy. Her skin was soft everywhere he touched, but beneath the

softness was muscled strength. She’d worked herself back from her injury, and her body reflected the way

she drove herself through life. She didn’t hold back, going all out for her goal.

She moved against him as he drove in and out of her, his hips meeting hers in a primitive closeness.

Faster.
Harder.
Her body gripped his, squeezing him firmly, as his fingers plucked her tight, needy clit with

each thrust.

“Cal.” His name was a raw moan, all feminine demand on her lips.

“I’m here,” he promised and gave her what they both wanted, slamming his hips against hers, driving

himself deeper, quicker. He couldn’t hold on much longer, but he needed her to come for him.
With
him.

He cupped her face, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was raw and urgent, watching her face as she

climaxed because he loved seeing her come undone. As soon as she went over the edge, he let go himself,

pumping himself hard and fast into her as she held him tight.

14

SHE’D TOLD HERSELF that winning wasn’t everything (okay, so Piper might have been kidding

herself just a little there). Without the Fiesta contract, she had no hope of securing the bank financing, and

Del would sell his half of the dive business. At best, she’d have a new partner who might let her continue to

run things the way she had. At worst, she’d have a fight on her hands. It was hard to concentrate, though,

when she would have rather been replaying yesterday’s memories of Cal. He’d kept her up most of the

night, and it had been worth it.

When her cell phone rang, her heart leaped. Fiesta had finally come a-calling.

“Victory is ringing.” Carla nudged the phone toward her. “Answer it.”

Right.

She’d have her answer in four, three, two... She hesitated. It would be over. She and Cal would settle

their bet, play out their remaining nights and then go back to...whatever it was they were before. Friendly

competitors. Neighbors.

“If Fiesta hangs up, I’ll kill you,” Carla said conversationally.

Piper picked up the phone and tapped the talk button.

“Piper Clark speaking.” Her voice sounded sure and confident, and Fate had to be on her side, because

none of the nauseating churn in her stomach came through in her voice.

Sal Britten answered, darn it. Maybe Fate wasn’t in such a good mood, after all.

“This is a difficult call to make,” Sal said and his self-satisfied voice made her question her decision not

to let him drown. Okay. Not really, but letting him flounder for just a few more seconds might have

improved his personality.

And then she processed his words and mouthed a really foul obscenity. Any conversation beginning

with those four words didn’t come with a happy ending.

Sal, however, was perfectly happy. He kept right on talking, not pausing for breath. “While we at Fiesta

Cruise Lines were extremely impressed with your proposal, Piper, we’ve decided to go in another

direction.”

Carla looked at her expectantly.

“I see,
Sal.
” She hadn’t missed his deliberate use of her first name. He was a patronizing asshole. And

then she processed his words. “Dream Big and Dive has not been awarded the contract.”

Carla thumped her head down on the counter. Piper pretty much felt the same way, but it was like a

diving competition where you’d been matching the leader on the scoreboard point for point and then, when

the final scores flashed up on the board, you realized that some itty-bitty percentage of a point had gone to

the other diver, who would get to stand on the podium instead of you. It sucked, but you put your game

face on and congratulated the winner. Took a few photos on the sidelines, waved and beat the fastest, most

graceful retreat possible to the locker room, because once you were in the shower, you had plausible

deniability for the tears.

“We’re awarding the contract to Deep Dive,” Sal continued, oblivious to the way her world was

imploding around her.

Of course. Cal would be a gracious winner. He always was. “May I ask why?” she gritted out.

Sal being Sal, he was delighted to pontificate further. “His performance on our last dive sealed the deal.”

Right. The dive Sal had screwed up so badly they had had to rescue his drowning ass. Apparently, her

part in that whole save-his-butt endeavor either hadn’t made much of an impression or hadn’t made it back

to the Fiesta board. Frankly, she was surprised Sal had brought it up at all.

“We extended the offer to him earlier today and he accepted.”

Even better. She was the insurance in case for some reason Cal turned down their offer. Fiesta hadn’t

wanted to give her the blow-off speech until they’d been sure of him.

She didn’t do tears, she reminded herself. Crying wouldn’t help.

A dive slate appeared in her field of vision. “BRB,” Carla had scrawled. She nodded her head as she

processed the shorthand for “be right back” and tried to concentrate on the blah blah blah coming her way

from Sal. Since she was clearly not hired, she figured she was entitled to honesty.

“His rescue sealed the deal?”

“He was very impressive.”

Piper made a mental note to tell Cal that one.

“And you’re expecting near drowning to be a common occurrence on your Fiesta-sponsored dives, and

therefore you had to go with a professional rescue swimmer?” she asked sweetly.

The dead silence on the other end was her answer. Sal was undoubtedly calculating how fast he could

hang up on her now that he’d delivered his bad news.

“Thank you for
your
time,” she said and ended the call. Since Fiesta wasn’t going to be paying her, she

didn’t have to put up with Sal anymore. That was one silver lining.

But...wow. She ran through the details of her proposal in her head, mentally walking through the demo

dive. She’d been so sure the Fiesta team had loved her dive, that they’d understood exactly how much fun a

shipload of cruisers and newbie divers could have swimming with the sea lions. And, instead, she’d been

trumped when Mr. Heroic Navy Swimmer had come charging to the rescue.

Worse, if she hadn’t offered to lead Cal’s dive, none of this would have happened. He would have got

into the water or not—she was betting strongly on the
not
—but he wouldn’t have taken over for her. She

thought about it for a moment. She’d had his back. Had covered for him. And it had backfired on her,

hadn’t it?

Carla came back inside the shop, carrying a cardboard tray with paper coffee cups. She flipped the open

sign to closed and locked the door. The gesture was appreciated, but caffeine wasn’t the Band-Aid Piper

needed right now.

“Never forget who the competition is,” she told Carla.

“Got it.” Carla popped a cup free and handed it over.

“I rescue Cal’s butt and therefore he won.” Saying it out loud wasn’t as therapeutic as she’d anticipated.

Carla took a sip from her own cup. “At least he’s got a mighty fine butt.”

“Irrelevant.”

“Would you feel better about losing to him if he wasn’t a hottie?”

Would she? “No.”

Carla motioned toward the cup. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m not in the mood for coffee.”

“Good thing I didn’t bring you coffee.”

Piper took a cautious sip. With Carla, anything was possible. Sure enough, sweet and salty, the

margarita froze her teeth and hit her stomach like a rock.

“Where did you find margaritas at—” she checked her phone “—ten in the morning?”

“Big Petey’s. He likes you.”

And she definitely liked his margaritas. Mainlining her weight in the sweet stuff was unexpectedly

appealing, but it wouldn’t erase her loss. The Fiesta contract had gone to Cal.

“So,” Carla said. “Next steps?”

“I’ve got an appointment with the loan officer tomorrow over on the mainland.”

Carla nodded. “And you’re keeping it?”

“Yes.” She had no idea how she’d convince the guy to take a chance on her and shower her business

with cash, but she’d figure something out. “He had ‘questions about my cash flow,’” she said, making air

quotes. “The Fiesta contract was the perfect answer to those questions.”

“Rest in peace, dear dream of a partner buyout.” Carla raised her coffee cup. “What about your bet?”

Wow.
That
had completely slipped her mind. She now owed Cal one night of yes-master-what-can-I-

do-for-you-master sex. Or at least that was what she’d imagined—with the roles reversed—when she’d

made the stupid bet in the first place.

“Your face is flushed,” Carla observed. “I’m going to assume you’re not worried about paying up.”

Nope. That would be a resounding
look forward to it.

* * *

last person she wanted to see right now, so he had no idea why he’d come looking for her. He hadn’t come

to gloat or rub her face in it or even to tease, although he doubted she’d see it that way. He’d gotten the call,

accepted the congratulations, and yet the whole time, he’d been thinking about Piper. While he was printing

out the Fiesta contract and pretending to read the fine print (until Tag had taken the pages from him), he’d

imagined Piper getting her call. Someone would be telling her that she’d lost and Cal had won.

With the new revenue, he’d be able to hire more former SEALs. He knew plenty of good guys who

were struggling to find the right place for themselves after leaving the service, and Deep Dive could fill that

need. He still had plenty of work to do on his own head, but with the Fiesta contract he could give other

veterans the same opportunity. He’d listened to Daeg and Tag making celebratory plans but hadn’t been able

to drum up any enthusiasm.

He had what he wanted, except...suddenly it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what mattered
most.
Piper was.

So he’d headed over here.

Like an idiot.

He killed the engine on the Harley and coasted toward the sidewalk. She had her back to him, so there

was the small possibility she hadn’t heard him coming. Faded blue jeans cupped her butt and ended just

above a pair of kickass boots. The dive shop T-shirt she wore hugged her breasts and she had a messenger

bag slung over her chest. She didn’t look angry, but then again, she hadn’t seen him yet. She turned around,

reaching up to pull her hair into a ponytail. The move emphasized the way her shirt clung to some of his

favorite places. When she saw him, her face froze.

“You heard the news.”
Stupid,
he chided himself.

“Congratulations.” She didn’t move, just stood there and looked at him. The three feet of space between

them suddenly felt like three million miles.

“Piper—”

She walked toward him. For a moment, he thought she was coming to him, and he wasn’t ashamed to

admit he was fiercely glad. Maybe winning didn’t have to mess things up. Maybe she could accept this and

even his partial ownership of her dive shop. Then, of course, she brushed past him and straddled her bike.

She was leaving.

“I’m going to follow you,” he warned. She didn’t get to run from this.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” She fished in her bag for her keys.

He didn’t want to talk, either, not if he was honest. He wanted to share his good news with her and hold

her because the news hadn’t been good for her. Those two things were incompatible, however, and he had

no idea how to solve things for her.

“I thought about dropping out,” he admitted.

She grabbed her helmet from the back of her seat. “I didn’t. I’m a big girl, Cal. I don’t need you to hand

me things. Or fix them. I lost and I’ll handle it.”

The look in her eyes was part pride, part sadness and humor. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” She flashed him a quick smile. “I may not
like
losing, but I do know how to do it. Next time,

however, I’m going to kick your butt. Consider yourself warned.”

Next time sounded good to him.

She pulled the helmet on, started the Harley and pushed away from the curb. Definitely leaving. He

opened his mouth to say something, although he had no idea what, and then she looked back at him.

“Are you coming? Or are you afraid I’m going to kill you and hide the body so I can get my hands on

that contract?”