CHAPTER SIX
Hitting the sand after a twelve-mile run around the golf course, up the road a ways, and back again, Ryan leaned over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath.
A solid twelve miles. So why the hell did he still have all this fucked-up energy?
He’d tried to block shit out, but he kept remembering that kiss. The grip she’d had on his hair, the rhythmic friction of her hips. This thing they had—it was intense. He’d never felt anything like it before.
But, yeah, he got it. She didn’t do hookups.
Spying a chaise, he headed toward it. A strong breeze cooled the perspiration on his skin, and he looked up at a blue sky. But he only saw Sophie, her lips coated with sugar. And then he remembered swiping his tongue across them, tasting that sweetness, the flood of heat that had rushed his body.
A familiar laugh spiked his pulse. He propped up on his elbows to find Sophie on a Hobie Cat, grabbing hold of the mast as the guy at the boat rental stand launched her into the water. She waved at the attendant, kneeling on the trampoline in her red bikini, and then turned to navigate her way into the ocean.
She pushed the tiller, watching the sails until they snapped and billowed. Her hair lifted in the breeze, whipping around her face. All alone on her Hobie, laughing like that—man, she didn’t need anything or anyone to make her happy.
Christ. He had to stop thinking about her.
Besides, he had to deal with his shit. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the screen to find yet another text from Emma.
Coming to see you. We need to talk.
She pulled this shit all the time. Never listened to a damn thing. Well, screw it. He was not getting into this drama with her. He’d already told her not to come.
One last message, and then he was done. I told you I can’t see you this week. I’ll talk to you after the break.
He kept his gaze on Sophie, as she struggled with the choppy water. The wind looked a little rough out there.
He forced himself to look away. Not only didn’t she need his help, but he needed to take care of his own mess. He still hadn’t called his coach back.
Time to man up. But something stopped him. He wasn’t ready to go back yet, and as soon as he came clean with his coach, he’d have to get his ass back there. What would it hurt to take the weekend off? They didn’t have another game until Tuesday.
Ryan didn’t confide in many people, so he didn’t have many to turn to for help. But he did have his dad. He punched his dad’s speed dial.
Big Bill answered on the second ring. “Yello. Bill here.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Ah, my favorite son.” His dad called all of them his favorites. “Saw you lost the game against Oregon.”
Wind whipped his hair across his face. He’d kept it short all his life, so he still wasn’t used to this new length. “Yeah. About that.” He’d never let his dad down. Always had good grades, always made MVP, treated everyone with respect. He was the kid adults patted on the head, as they told his dad what a great kid he had there.
“I’m listening.”
How come he knew he could count on his dad, and yet he never talked to him? “I fucked up.”
After a pause, his dad said, “Go on.”
“I’m in the Caribbean.”
“You’re…” He let out a breath into the receiver. “Okay.”
“I told Coach I had a family emergency.”
“There something I don’t know about?”
“No.” Not about his family anyway.
“Okay. You tellin’ me this because I’m about to get a call from him?”
“No. I’m telling you because I feel like shit about it.”
“Ah. Got it. You wanna tell me why you skipped out on your team?”
The punch of guilt made him wince. “Not really.”
His dad barked out a laugh. Ryan pulled the phone from his ear. A gust of wind plastered his gym shorts to his thighs, reminding him about Sophie. When he looked up, he saw her skidding across the water—heading toward open ocean. “Hang on a sec.” Lowering the phone, he called out to the guy at the boat stand. “Hey. She knows not to leave the lagoon, right?”
“Of course.” The guy shielded his eyes with a hand to look for her. “Whoa. Wind picked up.”
While the attendant stepped around the counter and hoisted a red flag up a pole, Ryan made a quick scan of the water. A couple pulled in the furling line, as their leeward pontoon dug into the water. But they had each other, so if their boat flipped, they’d be okay. Sophie was out there alone.
“Ryan?” he heard his dad shout.
Hopefully, she’d notice the flag. Not his business. “Yeah, sorry.”
“You called me for a reason. So what’re you looking for here? Me to kick your ass? Or to be okay with it?”
“I don’t think I can get you to be okay with it.”
“Nope. You got a responsibility to your coach and teammates.”
He knew that. “Yeah.”
“Lotta people dependin’ on you. You can’t just bail on ‘em.” His dad blew out a breath. “This isn’t like you at all. You worked your ass off to get to this point. What’s going on?”
Anxiety thrummed his nerves. He sat forward, curling his toes in the sand. “I just…”
“You just what?”
“I just needed a break. For once in my fucking life, I wanted a break.”
“Three months before the draft?” His voice was like a sonic boom in his ear.
Ryan let out a shaky breath. “Pretty much.”
“You been dreading this?” His dad’s tone gentled.
“Yes.” Energy rushed through him, blowing out the dark, heavy clouds. His dad got it. “Yes.”
“You got any sense of why? Something happen?”
“No. Nothing happened.” He closed his eyes against a spray of grit. “What I know is that I like baseball. I like my coach and my teammates. I like winning. But I just don’t want to be on the field. And I came here to figure out why.”
“Got you.”
When his dad didn’t say anything more, Ryan kicked the sand off his foot. “What do you think?”
“I think right now it’s not about you. You’re in the middle of your damn season. You’re the star of the team.”
Not helping. “Yeah, I know that. But I’m the reason we lost to Oregon. And it wasn’t just that game. It’s been getting worse. I’ve been getting worse.”
“So you didn’t want the scouts to see you screw up?”
“Yeah, that, too.”
His dad chuckled.
“Dad, I…I think I was having a panic attack.”
“You talk to your coach about it?”
“No.”
“Shit time to blow yourself up. Not a lot of kids get this shot, so you gotta think hard about skipping out on this week. You blow it, and there won’t be any going back.”
“Missing this week won’t kill my chances in the draft. The scouts think I had a family emergency.”
“You gonna keep lyin’ to your coach?”
“No.” Shame slammed him.
“Look, son. You need to call him right now and let him know what’s been going on with you.”
Noticing Sophie’s Hobie bouncing over growing chop, Ryan shot off the chaise. Oh, hell. She was too busy trying to keep the bow out of the water to notice the flag had gone up.
And why the hell was she heading for the ocean?
“Dad, I gotta go.” He headed down to the boat rental stand. “But, yeah, I’ll call Coach. Let you know how it goes.”
“You do that. I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Thanks, Dad.” He slapped his phone on the desk and quickly read the guy’s name tag. “Hey, Sam. You think you can take me out there? Looks like she’s having a hard time.”
“What? Who?” Sam looked up from his cell phone, scanning the ocean. “Yeah, that wind’s knockin’ all right.” He leaned down and pulled out a sign, setting it on the counter.
Closed temporarily due to weather.
“I need to get to her.” Now. “Before she leaves the lagoon.”
Shielding his eyes, Sam tracked Sophie’s progress. “Nah, she wouldn’t do that. She said she’s done this a hundred times.”
“Look, she’s out there alone. If she flips, she’s not gonna be able to get the boat back up by herself. Can you just get me out there?”
The guy watched her for a few moments, and then scanned the water. Several boats were already heading back to shore. “Okay, but let’s make it quick.” He pulled up his walkie talkie. “It’s Sam. Wind’s picked up. You want send someone down here to help me out?”
“Copy that.”
Ryan jumped into the dinghy before Sam. Once in, the guy locked the lift level, put the engine in neutral, and shifted the throttle into position. Ryan pulled the starter cord, and they took off.
Rough seas made the ride choppy, and they caught air a bunch of times, slamming down hard enough to rattle teeth.
As they neared the Hobie, Ryan waved to get her attention. “Sophie. Soph.” But her features were scrunched in concentration, her arms pulling the ropes taut, trying to get control of the sail. “Dammit, Sophie.” He watched her stand up on the trampoline.
He hoped like hell the Hobie didn’t tip. If it did, she’d…Fuck. He had to get to her.
“Hurry up.” The wind swallowed his shout to Sam.
And then the Hobie flew a hull. With a hand on the tiller, Sophie clung to the rail.
Anxiety ripped across his skin like fire, and he wanted to dive into the water right then. “Sophie!”
But she dumped wind and slowed down—and thank Christ—the hull dropped back to the water.
“Close one,” Sam said.
Ryan needed to get her attention. Needed to get on that boat with her.
“Almost got her.” Sam had the dinghy almost parallel with the Hobie.
She was heading out of the lagoon. “Get me closer, dammit.” Once she got caught in the pull of two opposing currents, she’d lose control of the boat. “Sophie.” He barked so loudly, he finally got her attention.
She whipped around toward him, eyes wide in shock.
“Turn into the wind now.”
After a moment of alarm, she quickly turned and pushed the tiller away from her body. The boat came around and instantly stopped. Ryan dove into the water. Momentarily lost in the quiet and blur of submersion, he imagined her ignoring him and just continuing into open ocean.
Panic had him powering to the surface. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he found her watching him with concern. “Dammit, Sophie.”
“Hey,” Sam called. “You need me?”
“No, thanks.” Ryan stroked hard until he reached her.
She stood up, and the lightweight boat rocked. “What’re you doing here?”
Lunging forward, he grabbed the fiberglass hull and hoisted himself aboard. “Sit down. I don’t want you to flip this thing.”
Surprise turned to anger. “I’m not going to flip it.”
His heart pounded like a drum. He grabbed the tiller, adjusted the sail, and turned the boat back to shore.
“Hey. You can’t just take over.”
Wind batted his ears, and cold water crashed over the trampoline.
“I’m not going back yet. What is your problem?”
“See the red flag?” He gestured to shore. “It’s too windy out here for a Hobie, and you were heading out of the lagoon.”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “No, I wasn’t.” One hand pulled the hair off her face, the other pointed toward the beach. “I was going into that inlet.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see the odd little cove that looked like a giant had shoved a finger into the sandy coastline. The water glowed a brilliant turquoise. He hadn’t seen the inlet from shore.
But that wasn’t the point. “It’s still too windy to be out here right now.” He drew in a deep breath to settle his nerves but got another jolt when he recalled how close she’d come to the riptide. “And you got way too close to open ocean.”
“I was turning.” She crawled over to him, unsteadily. As she reached him, she tried to pull on his arm. “Can you please let go? I’m going into that cove.” But when he wouldn’t budge, she shouted, “What is the matter with you?”
“What’s the matter? Jesus, Soph, you scared the shit out of me.” When he saw her baffled expression, he forced himself to calm down. “It looked like you were having a hard time controlling the boat. The wind’s bad enough, but you were getting way too close to the rip.” He blew out a breath, as he managed the light craft in a strong wind.
“Are you out of your mind?” She sounded incredulous.
The Hobie pitched deep, right up to the crossbar. “Up on the hull, Soph. Hold on and lean back.”
As soon as the craft stabilized, he cast a glance over his shoulder, relieved to see she’d done as he’d asked. She’d also lost some of her outrage. “Okay, yes, I was definitely struggling there for a minute, but I was heading into the cove to get out of the wind. So, thank you, but I’m fine now.” The choppy water had her breasts bouncing wildly.
Now was not the time to notice her breasts in the red bikini. Unlike most women at the resort who wore little scraps of material, Sophie’s swimsuit had decent coverage. But nothing could hide the fullness—the absolute ripeness of hers—the hard points of her nipples, the beads of water on her skin. He had to look away. With a chin lift, he said, “Everyone’s heading in.”
“Okay, cool, but I’m heading into that nice, quiet cove over there. So please get off my boat. Go swim back to shore. I’m serious, Ryan.” She crawled toward him and pushed his shoulders. “Get off.”
He watched her face screw up with the effort it took to push him over, and he burst out laughing.
“Don’t be a jerk.”
He turned fully to her. “I’m not a jerk. I just saved your life.”
“I’m on a Hobie. In a lagoon.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I would’ve been fine.”
He gestured toward the other boats in the lagoon. “Everyone’s going back in.”
As she stood there watching the others heading back to shore, her long hair fluttered out behind her, and she looked like a warrior queen. That sexy mouth, those brilliant blue eyes, and that lush body made him want her with a fierceness that completely undid him.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She stepped back, losing her balance and nearly toppling over.
He grabbed her arm, steadying her. “Can you please sit down so I can get us safely to shore?”
She jerked out of his hold. “I can get myself back to shore.”
“In normal conditions you can. But with this wind you could flip. And you’d never get this thing back up by yourself.”
“God, would you stop with the flipping? I wasn’t going to flip.”
“You’ve never done this before, have you?”
She looked away. “Of course I have.”
“Great, Soph. You lied to Sam.”
“I didn’t lie.”
He gave her a weighted look.
“I went to camp on Catalina Island. I took a Hobie out. I think it was a Hobie.”
“When you were twelve?”
She held onto the rail, her hair whipping like ribbons in the wind. Fuck, she was hot. Fierce, sexy, and wildly independent.
“So, fine, thank you for saving me. Now, if you’ll jump off and get back to your day of banging women, we’ll both be happy.”
“Christ.” He’d hurt her. “I’m sorry about last night. I got carried away. You’re a beautiful woman, and I’m obviously attracted to you. I’m sorry I pushed it so far.”
She looked at him for a moment, as though measuring his sincerity. “I don’t blame you for anything other than pirating my boat. Just go, okay? And let me get back to my fun.”
“Take the boat out later with your friends.”
“You know, if I waited for people to do things with me, I’d never do anything. Look, I get it now. It did get a little scary there. But I’m good now. Thank you for helping me, but I’m going to head into that cove and wait out the wind.”
“Soph, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I grew up around boats. I’m serious when I tell you the Hobie’s not safe in these conditions. That’s why he put up the red flag. Let me just get you back to shore, and you can take it out another day. Okay?” The wind whipped his words right back into his face like a hard slap. He should be with his friends. Getting with girls like Carrie. Not fucking up Sophie Valentine’s life.
He had to point a little further away from the wind after the tack so he could gain some speed before heading up to the beach. “Can you please just sit on the trapeze so I can bring her in?”
“You completely ruined my morning adventure. So, screw you.” She shoved him, hard, and he lost his footing but didn’t fall in. “What are you, a duck? Do you have webbed feet? Get off my boat!”
“I’m about to, and so are you. Now jump off and get onto shore so I can bring the boat in.” Ryan motioned for Sam to come and help him, as the boat ground into the sand.
“You suck.” Sophie jumped off and strode away. Her feet left an imprint on the wet sand.
Anger pulsed under his skin, as he helped Sam drag the boat onto shore. Heat prickled under his armpits and sweat popped out on his forehead. He wasn’t normally an asshole.
He didn’t know why he was one now.
When they’d finished, Sam jogged over to help another guest. Ryan flexed his fingers, needing to hurl something. But instead he looked around for Sophie, found her storming across the beach. Where the hell was she going? She hadn’t even bothered to pick up her key card and phone.
Watching her stride away, Ryan’s anger mounted. Too impatient to wait for Sam to finish with the guests, Ryan interrupted. “Hey, can I get my phone?” He glanced over his shoulder to find Sophie hauling it up the beach. “And her stuff?”
“Sure. Yeah.”
He saw the way they all looked at him, like he was some rude prick. But he didn’t care. He had to catch up with her. Sam headed for his desk, reached into a cubby, and handed him her key card and white cover-up, along with Ryan’s own belongings.
“Thanks.” Pocketing his phone, Ryan took off after her.
The beach was empty at this hour, just some workers setting up umbrellas and beach chairs. So he hollered for her. “Sophie.”
She ignored him, sand kicking out with each aggressive stride she took. The round globes of her ass shaking with each hurried step drove him out of his mind. He followed her, the noise in his head so loud he couldn’t think.
He’d give her the damn key card and cover-up, take a shower, and go back to bed. What the hell was he doing getting up so early anyhow? He was on vacation. He rarely had a chance to sleep late.
She hit the arched walkway that led to the pool and disappeared.
“Sophie, dammit.” Fuck him. Fuck this noise in his head. He could leave her stuff at the front desk. It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter.
The moment his feet hit the pavement, he remembered he’d left his gym shoes by the chaise. Which meant he had to turn around, and that just pissed him off even more. Dammit. He didn’t want to turn back and get his damn shoes.
And where the hell had Sophie gone? Didn’t she want her keycard? He didn’t see that bouncing, round ass anywhere. But, holy shit, he could feel her clutching him, feel the press of her body against his. Desire burned through him. She’d been so fucking responsive last night. That’s what it was, really, what had made him so wild. Her response to him.
It was them. Combustible.
He remembered tucking his face into her neck, being surrounded by her scent, her silky hair. Her hands reaching under his shirt—her touch so hungry. Oh, Christ.
His heart pounded. Need burned a fiery path through his limbs. Where the hell had she gone?
He scanned the empty pool, the chaises, and the path to the terrace grill. Stalking towards the hotel, he peered through the glass doors but didn’t see anyone inside. She couldn’t have made it to the elevator that quickly.
The sound of water hitting pavement snapped his attention to the side of the building. To the outdoor showers.
An image sprang to mind. Sophie, naked, water glistening on that peachy skin.
Desire charged through him. Don’t do it. If he went in there, he’d touch her. And he couldn’t do that. She didn’t want it.
Go to your room.
Fuck that. Go to the gym. Work this crazy shit out of you.
He stood outside the hotel, every muscle tensed. A worker rolled a cart of clean towels out a side door and wheeled it toward the wicker towel stand.
But all he could focus on was the water splattering on concrete. Had she taken off her bikini?
None of your damn business. He turned away from the worker, but instead of opening the door to the hotel, he found his feet eating up the path, taking him toward the row of outdoor showers.
He’d just give her the key card and cover-up, and then he’d go. Leave her alone.
Water pooled outside a stall. “Soph?” He knocked, and then called for her again.
The door swung open, and she stood there in her red bikini, soap suds streaming down her gleaming body. Her features softened when she saw the cover-up and phone he held out to her.
Taking them out of his hand, she set them on a wooden shelf. “Thank you.” Then, she stepped under the spray and tilted her head back, her long dark hair streaming over her shoulders.
Holy hell. Desire rushed him so hard his breath went choppy, his knees weak. He closed and locked the door, heading right for her. Her eyes flared with surprise, but she didn’t stop him. The look in her eyes set his blood roaring. Heat, need, want burst inside him.
Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. He moved toward her, crowding into her space, needing to touch her more than he needed air.
“I can’t believe you pirated my boat.”
Water splattered his calves, and his spine tingled with a lust so crazy he could barely control it. “It was too windy to be out there.”
She gave him a defiant look. “I don’t like people telling me what to do.”
Or she wasn’t used to it. No one in her family seemed to bother with her. “I’m not going to apologize for worrying about you.”
“Why?” Her voice sounded thin, shaky. Water beaded on her skin.
He was so hard he hurt, but even though he could barely think, he knew she deserved an answer. “Because I like you.”
She let out a shaky breath.
“Fuck, Sophie.” Leaning in, he watched the desire in her eyes turn fiery. Her fingertips traced a path down his chest, making him shudder. He licked the water droplets off her lips, and she sighed into his mouth.
He kissed her—fuck, yes—tongue stroking into her mouth, fingers sliding into wet hair, shoving it off her face. Cupping the back of her head, he shifted her so he could kiss her more deeply. Her mouth, so lush and hot, opened to him, and he lost himself in all the lusciousness that was Sophie Valentine.
Her hands pushed under his arms, moving restlessly over his back, gliding across skin that awakened to her touch. His body hummed. And then she cupped his shoulders, drawing him tightly against her.
Lifting the heavy hair at the back of her neck, he tugged the tie of her bikini top and pulled it down, exposing her gorgeous breasts. Oh, Jesus. Full, plump, round. Her nipples puckered, beaded, and he had to have them in his mouth.
When he cupped her, the bounty of her breasts overflowing his big hands, she sucked in a breath. He caressed her, gently rubbing his thumbs over the hard nipples. Her eyes went all soft with desire, and her back arched, offering herself to him. And so he kissed her, all the while caressing and gently squeezing those plump mounds.
He was losing his mind. “You feel so good, Sophie.” He spread kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and then he pushed her breasts together and licked her deep cleavage. His tongue flicked out, sucking first one nipple and then the other. Her hands clutched the back of his head, holding him tightly to her.
He took his time, savoring the feel of that hard nipple in his mouth, the generous mound in his hand. Those sounds she made—erotic whimpers—and the way her hips rocked with such urgency made him wild.
God, she lit him up. She woke him up. He was aware of everything, the smell of wet concrete, the sting of spray on his ankles. The scent of her body, so feminine, so blatantly Sophie. A little salty, a little floral, a lot sexy.
He reached for her hand and brought it to his dick.
“Okay, okay.” Yanking out of his hold, she pushed at his shoulders. “We have to stop.”
No. Jesus. Ryan closed his eyes, the loss of contact with her body hitting him with a painful jolt. He squeezed his dick to alleviate the unbearable pressure.
“I want this…I mean, obviously I do, Ryan. But I…God, I know myself. I can’t just have sex with you and then…”
The anxiety in her voice tore him out of the sheer, blazing pain of blue balls.
Her hands came up to cover her breasts, her wet hair streamed down her creamy skin, and she looked completely torn apart. “Just…please just go.”
The mix of aching desire and wild frustration overwhelmed him. But he understood. He had nothing to give her beyond a hot fuck in a shower stall. Yeah, he got it. He had to get out of there. Keep away from her, because she drove him out of his mind. Turning, he jammed his hands into his hair, pulling it off his face.
Christ. He could go so fucking hard in her.
But she didn’t want to be used like that. And she shouldn’t. She deserved so much more.
With a shaky hand on the lock, he lowered his head. He was out of control, no question. And it scared the shit out of him. Because it wasn’t getting better. He’d been dealing with this building frustration and aggression for months now, and it wasn’t going away. It was getting worse. Breaking up with Emma hadn’t helped. Taking this break? Only made it worse.
Chancing a look at her over his shoulder, he found her hands behind her neck tying the bikini. “I’m sorry.” And then he walked out.