“Well, I’ll be damned.” Quinn set his rum punch down on the bar and leaped over the retaining wall that separated the grass-roofed hut from the beach.

Behind him, his twin brother Will and Will’s business partners hollered after him, but Quinn didn’t care.

He was pretty sure the gorgeous woman who’d just sauntered past was none other than Master Sergeant Leah Saunders.

They were on the same sleepy, Caribbean island, far from camo-pattern uniforms and interfering teammates. Schedules and responsibilities thousands of miles away. He probably owed her an apology—and he’d happily give her much, much more, now that he’d seen her in a pink bikini.

Not that he needed the luscious revelation of her skin to know he wanted her. He’d been attracted to her back at that off-base bar when she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and the next morning as she yelled at him, all bad-ass army girl in her uniform and bun.

And if she knew that he got a hard-on thinking about her being a bad-ass army girl, she’d knee him in his very distracted junk.

But that bikini….

Hello, Sgt.

She made him want to present for inspection in the worst way.

“Leah!” he hollered, his feet churning over the sand as he killed the gap between them.

She turned around, confusion quickly replaced by surprise on her face. Cool, controlled surprise. Not the best sign, but he forged ahead.

“Quinn.” He pointed at his chest. “We met a few months ago.”

“I remember you.” A polite brush-off.

Had he left that bad of an impression on her? “And now here we are on the same island. Far from any base or uniform or…” He flashed her a quick grin. “What are the chances?”

“Military’s a small world.” She dropped her gaze to his trunks.

Nothing small about his world. He set his hands on his hips, and by the time her gaze made it back to his face—a little less cool, now—he was smirking. “Maybe you’re here because you asked around about me.”

“I promise that if I knew you were coming anywhere near this resort, I’d have found another island for my leave.”

“Ouch. You wound me.”

She laughed, because he was grinning. Okay, he wasn’t that easily wounded.

She waved her hand down the beach. “I gotta get going.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“It’s what I’ll say every time. It’s an easy, honest way to get out of a conversation with you.”

“Keep that up and I’ll start to get the idea you’re not interested.”

She held his gaze a little too steadily for his liking. “I’m not.”

He nodded and took a step back in the direction of the bar. “If you change your mind, I’m here all week. My buddy Mick’s getting married next weekend.”

“Fun. But I won’t change my mind.”

He took another two steps away from her. “My loss.”

“It’s really not.”

“What makes you say that?”

She moved closer. “I’m sure I’m not your type.”

But the way her eyes sparkled with a cocky know-it-all-ness totally did it for him, so he doubted that very much. “You don’t know that. I’m a pretty easy-going guy.”

“That wasn’t my experience of you.” She licked her lips. “And I asked around about you.”

He jerked back in surprise. The military wasn’t that small a world. “You did?” And then it dawned on him. “Wait. That means you were thinking about me.” He grinned again. “That’s good.”

She snorted. “Yeah. Sure. Except for the part where I heard about what you like, and where I know that I’m not it. Get it?”

Nope, he didn’t get it. “Then you’ve heard wrong.”

“I trust my sources. You’ve got specific preferences.” She lifted her chin, urging him to question her.

She wasn’t wrong on that score, and his brain was whirring. But he didn’t argue the point, or ask for more information. Instead, he waited her out. Let her turn around. Checked out the sweet bounce of her ass in that pale pink bikini as she strode away. But he didn’t let her get too far before raising his voice. “So that must mean you’re in the scene.”

Bingo. Her lush, curvy body froze.

He strode closer, his dick pulsing with anticipation. Leah on her knees for him. Spread open, pink and glistening. Begging him...

“The only place you’d hear about me in the pacific northwest is at a club, or maybe online in a private loop. From someone who trusts you with the fact that they’re kinky, and so am I. So is that it, babe? You have a kinky side?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder and smirked. “Maybe.”

Well, hot damn. He’d been expecting a stammering excuse. This was even better.

“But I’m not interested anyway,” she continued smoothly. “Your kink isn’t my kink.” She gave him a sweet smile. “And that’s okay.”

Oh no she didn’t. “You have no idea what my kink is.”

She arched one eyebrow, her lips curving and plumping as she gave him a silent “Oh?” In response.

The truth was, Quinn just liked to fuck. Hard, fast, slow, sweet, tied-up or in a group...he loved it all. The smell of sex got him going. The sounds. Grunting and panting. The slap of skin against skin.

If she had more specific preferences inside that, he was game. “My hard limits are breath play, fire, and I don’t like anything bigger than a finger up my ass.”

Surprise burst across her face like an early summer sun. Bright and warm. “That so?” She murmured, throwing his flippant phrase back at him. “Because I like testing limits like that. And I prefer something bigger than a finger…although I’m willing to start there.”

Oh shit. “You’re a top.”

“Fraid so, hot shot.”

She gave him a more friendly smile than before and turned again.

Something achy and tender twisted inside Quinn’s belly. Wait.

“Tell me more,” he heard himself call out.

She just shook her head and kept walking.

* * *

Leah stayed away from Quinn for twenty-one hours, and felt good about that decision for twenty of them. But after breakfast the next day, doubt started to twist in her gut.

She’d been really flippant. Bordering on rude, really, especially because while yeah, she’d heard some things, it wasn’t strictly speaking true that what she knew of his preferences didn’t necessarily jive with her own.

Sex was sex. She didn’t have hard and fast rules about it.

One couldn’t be that choosy when one only got lucky a few times a year.

And they were on this island together for at least five days. Until the weekend, he’d said. So why not have a little fun, however it worked out between them?

Besides, she was getting out of the army in another three months, so her previously rigid rules about not mixing work and kink didn’t need to apply any longer.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around that change in her career path. But the options presented to her had been…stifling. She’d had a fantastic run, but after twelve years, she’d hit a glass ceiling. And she hated herself for not seeing it coming, for buying into the myth that she could go the distance.

And maybe she could have if she was willing to take a brutal posting instead of the…ten other choices she’d have preferred.

Oh well.

Lemons into lemonade. She was heading to college. A freshman at thirty. She snorted. Well, it would be interesting at least.

Interesting.

That’s what she needed this week to be, too.

Running away from Quinn just to hide on the beach at her resort, that was the safe, easy way out. And not interesting in the least.

She stuffed a bottle of water and a book into a tote bag, put on her favorite oversized sunglasses, wrapped a purple sarong loosely around her hips, and headed off down the beach.

There were three resorts loosely connected together. She was staying at the eastern most hotel, and Quinn had accosted her at the western most one. Her wristband allowed her to use the beaches for all three, so she headed all the way to the other end and found a lounge chair close to the beach bar.

It took Quinn thirty minutes to darken her with his shadow.

She slowly lifted her head from her book and lifted an eyebrow up at him. “Hello.”

He was wearing a black tank top and black shorts. He looked almost menacing as he towered over her, all tanned skin and black-ink tattoos. Those had been well-hidden beneath his uniform, and yesterday she’d been too busy being frosty to properly appreciate them.

The man was beautiful.

And cocky. “You came back to my beach.”

“I suppose I did.”

He laughed and settled on the chair next to hers. “Having a good holiday?”

She shrugged. “It’s quiet. But there’s a gorgeous beach and unlimited rum punch, so…”

“Surely we can have higher standards than that.”

“I actually won this trip, so I’m not complaining.”

“Ah.”

And suddenly she found herself telling him in loose terms about the conference in Seattle, and how she was expecting more people here from that event. “I think it really was just something someone donated, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“So anyway, it’s fine, but since I saw you here yesterday, I thought maybe I’d come back. See what you were up to.”

“Which is why you parked yourself on the beach instead of coming to ask for me at the front desk.”

“Well, a girl can’t try too hard.”

He grinned at her. “And a boy can never try hard enough.”

“I like the sounds of that.” She was teasing, mostly. If they were going to do something this week, even if it was just a single night together, she’d make it good for him. That was important to her, even if she refused to do any chasing.

“Me too. And I like your honesty.” He rolled onto his side, and she didn’t hide her appreciation for the flex of his six-pack or the hard, wide planes of his chest as he preened for her.

Men. They were all the same, from peacocks to gorillas to Navy SEALs. She wanted to rub him behind his ears and call him a good boy.

Maybe if they continued to get along like this, she’d get an opportunity to do exactly that later.

“Like right now, for example.” His gaze was hard and challenging. “I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“So bossy,” she murmured, glad she was wearing her sunglasses still. “And that’s usually my job.”

“So you told me yesterday.”

“And you said you wanted to know more.”

“I do.”

She stood abruptly. “I’m hungry. Would you like to have lunch?”

When he stood up—and up, and up, towering over and around her in the most delicious way—he took his time answering. But when he did, it was exactly the right response. “I’d love to. Where are you taking me?”

She pointed down the beach, back towards her resort. They took their time walking there. He swung around her, taking the surf side of the hard-packed sand along the water’s edge. The slope evened out their height difference a bit, and as they zigged and zagged around swimmers and children playing in the sand, their arms brushed repeatedly.

If she were any other woman, she was quite sure Quinn would have tried to hold her hand. If she was any other woman, she’d totally have let him, and maybe even angled for that herself.

But even more delicious than holding his hand was the tension that zinged between them because she didn’t. Anticipation and promise were the stuff that really amped her up, and Quinn gave her both in spades.

She just hoped he liked it as much as she did.

As they neared her resort, she moved away from the water. He followed. Not a fan of distance between them, she noted. So she’d reward him with nearness and punish him by pulling away.

She frowned to herself. She didn’t like the idea of punishing Quinn. This wasn’t going to be like that. He hadn’t said anything about impact play, but that wasn’t her core desire, anyway. Making him wait, yes. That turned her on in a big way. Making him suffer held no appeal.

“They do an awesome fire-roasted pizza here,” she said, pointing to the cafe that jutted out over the rocks.

“Sounds fantastic,” he said with an easy grin.

Her heart turned into a puddle of goo. It was good he wasn’t a submissive, because she’d have to twist herself into a pretzel to see a way to punish Quinn Parry. He was far too agreeable.

All of that—his personality, her reaction to it, and the general confusion he stirred inside her—all pushed her out of her normal flirting routine and into more ordinary chatter as they ate. TV shows, travel, food preferences and the latest YouTube video they’d both busted a gut over.

“Did you see the follow-up, with the dog?” she asked Quinn as he reached across to snag her last piece of pizza.

He gave her a shameless wink as he sat back in her chair. “Nope. Must have missed it. Maybe you can show me later.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe you can show me other things you like on the internet, too.”

She laughed. “Is that your way of suggesting we watch porn together?”

“Hell yes. I bet you’ve got some very creative tastes.”

“Maybe they don’t make porn for how creative my tastes get,” she said, teasing a little.

He shook his head. “Not possible. Rule thirty-four.”

She groaned and nodded her head. “If it exists, there is porn of it – no exceptions.” She recited it like she was reading the Urban Dictionary definition. “So you are a geek, after all.”

“Sure am. A kink geek. Collector of freaky porn and totally open to anything.”

“Good to know.” She licked her lips. “Watch any sci-fi?”

He held her gaze for a second, then let her change the subject to a less filthy topic again. “I’m as big a Star Wars fan as most guys my generation, I think.”

“Who shot first?”

“Come on, that’s an easy one. Han, of course.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Luke Skywalker’s original name?”

“Starkiller?”

“Good one.” He gave her a long, unblinking examination from across the table. “This is all very ordinary, I gotta say.”

“I was thinking the same thing myself.” Porn discussion aside.

“I don’t normally do ordinary.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“And I don’t think you do, either.”

“No. But then I don’t normally have a week off in paradise, and a handsome man intent on convincing me we should…hang out.”

“Hang out?” His eyelids drooped as his gaze heated up. “Is that what we’re going to do?”

Zing. Okay. They were doing this. She crossed her arms. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“For real? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve imagined something. How do you want me?”

Leah rolled her eyes at his cockiness. “Tied to my bed. Can you handle that?”

“Get your rope.”

“Stop it, Quinn.” Don’t rush me. Don’t rush this, because I think this might be something crazy and different than anything else I’ve done and I’m not sure how to handle that and oh my God when did I turn into such a special snowflake? “I was mostly kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” He edged around the table and flipped the chair next to her around so he could straddle it. And sit next to her—she didn’t miss that part. But with a barrier between them. Or a weapon…she wasn’t sure which.

Why did the thought of sparring with Quinn Parry turn her on so much?

Annoying man. “Of course you’re kidding,” she said blandly. “You like to be in charge.”

“Who said that?”

A friend of a friend, to a friend. So okay, her intel was shaky. But the man radiated sex and power. There was no way he was kneeling for her. “Tell me what you like, then.”

He leaned in and lowered his voice. “The idea of you tying me to your bed. I like that a lot. In fact, I’m hard as a rock right now.”

She wouldn’t let him see how much she liked that admission. “And you think I’m going to do something about that…problem?”

“Who said it’s a problem?” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I like the delayed gratification of being made to wait.”

Oh, dear Lord, that tugged at her womb. She wanted to make him wait. Wanted him on his knees, legs spread, cock drooling for her—while she sat in the corner and read a novel. Something filthy that would make her squirm.

“The truth is, Leah, I’m game for anything. If it’s you and me and dirty, I’m a fan. I’m sure you can find a way to work with that.”

“Do you know how to sail?”

His eyebrows hit the roof. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m going to reserve a boat to take out this evening. I’d like to see the sunset on the water. You can come with me.” She stood up, and his gaze followed her eagerly. Maybe he had potential after all. She grazed her fingertips across his cheek. “And if you’re very good, then maybe you can…come.”

His eyes flared, but he didn’t move. Didn’t speak, either. He just nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on hers.

She gave him a smile as a reward, then turned and walked away.