Love Me if You Dare Read online

  Camille felt a little at loose ends as she realized most of the others were helping themselves to snorkeling equipment from bins beneath padded benches—even Mike and Rachel weren’t shy about looking through Reece’s supplies and picking out what they wanted. And Camille would have joined them—if she’d had any clue about snorkeling.

  So it was a relief when Reece appeared at her side to say, “Don’t be shy, Tinkerbell. Pick out a mask and some fins.”

  She tried to sound less intimidated than she felt when she asked, “Are they all the same? And if not, how do I know which ones are best for me?”

  He cast her a long, sideways look, the hint of a teasing grin on his face. “Been a while since you went snorkeling?”

  She returned the sideways glance and made sure not to sound sheepish when she said, “You could say that. As in never.”

  Reece tilted his head, smile still in place, but being less arrogant than before. “Really, Tink? A worldly woman like you has never gone snorkeling?”

  “There are lots of ways to be worldly,” she replied smartly.

  And he said, “Well, you’ll add one more to your list today.” Then he took her hand and said, “Come on—I’ll help you with the equipment, and then I’ll give you a lesson once we’re in the water.”

  She tried not to feel the tingly awareness of having her hand in his. She tried to ignore the quickened beat of her heart. But it was there, and she couldn’t deny that her heartbeat seemed to echo into other places, too, most notably her bikini bottoms. Why, oh why, did the owner of the Happy Crab have to be so sexy?

  Soon enough, though, everything felt a lot less sexy as Reece outfitted her with a massive pair of flippers, which he called by the nicer name, fins, along with a thin, inflatable lifevest and a clear mask attached to a snorkel tube. In fact, she felt like some sort of bizarre sea creature as she waddled toward the catamaran’s built-in staircase that descended into the water.

  Due to it taking a while for Reece to get everything on her, everyone else had already gone in, and now Reece waited for her in the sea, at the foot of the stairs, his mask pushed up on top of his head, now wet tendrils of dark hair curling around his face.

  It wasn’t easy navigating the way down in the huge flippers—it was the equivalent of maneuvering a narrow set of steps in clown shoes—but Reece told her to take her time, and said encouraging words like, “There you go—slow and easy,” and she at once loved and hated how patient and helpful he was being. In the moment, she was grateful, but certain aspects of this attraction would be so much easier if there wasn’t such a decent guy hiding underneath the smart-ass parts of him.

  She finally went bounding into the water with a bigger splash than intended and with it came a little cry of alarm. She hadn’t thought through this. She’d imagined it would feel more natural—easier. But in fact, she wasn’t comfortable suddenly bouncing around in the ocean waves that lapped around her, carrying her to and fro and making her feel she had no control over it all.

  Reece clearly saw the bit of panic in her eyes—he swam toward her and let his arms close around her from behind. “You’re okay—I’ve got you,” he said soothingly.

  Two thoughts raced in to blend with her general discomfort: Did he do this with every slightly panicked snorkeling passenger? And oh Lord, it felt nice to have him wrapped around her, even bobbing up and down amid the waves, even in snorkeling gear, even panicked.

  Of course, the panic was dying away—being in his arms made her feel instantly safe. “I—I . . .” She suffered the urge to somehow explain. “I guess I’m just . . . not very confident in the water.” Though it made her feel like an idiot that everyone else seemed perfectly confident in the water. Mike and Rachel already swam about in the distance, faces immersed, looking at fish. And Jack and Christy were talking, hugging, laughing, off to the right, as at ease as if they were still on the boat.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Tink, promise,” Reece said near her ear. “Your lifevest will keep you afloat, and your fins will take you where you wanna go.”

  She’d noticed Reece didn’t even wear a lifevest—showing exactly how confident he was in the ocean waters. It made her feel weak and a little envious, even if he was being nice about it. She so hated being in a position of weakness—and it seemed to keep happening over and over since her arrival in Coral Cove.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I need this thing off my face right now.” And she pushed the snorkeling mask up onto her forehead, same as Reece’s, to free up her nose for easier breathing at the moment.

  “It’s pretty choppy right here behind the boat,” he told her, arms still around her waist beneath the surface. “You’ll feel better out in more open water. Lean back against me and flip your fins.”

  She did what he said and—with the help of his fins too, she assumed—the movement propelled them backward through the deep water and off to one side of the boat, which now blocked them from being able to see the others. And indeed the waves were much calmer here and she began to relax more.

  “Better?” he asked, his voice warm on her neck.

  Reece hadn’t let go of her yet. And she was glad. For more reasons than one.

  She said, “Yes,” but it came out low, tentative. She was still getting used to this. Being out in the open gulf. And being wrapped up in Reece Donovan’s capable arms.

  Then she got brave enough to ask him what she’d wondered a minute ago. “Do you do this with all your panicky guests?”

  “This?” he asked. Calmer waters continued to lap around them.

  “Wrap around them like this,” she explained, her voice going lower again.

  “No,” he said, his breath drifting across her skin.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  He hesitated only slightly before saying, “Just followed an instinct, I guess. Do you mind it?” The question felt supercharged with heat.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Good,” he said.

  And that was when his hold on her tightened just a bit, and she grew even more fully aware of being enveloped by him in such a warm, sexy way that it nearly stole her breath.

  But not quite. Because what really stole it was when he leaned in to lower the gentlest of kisses to her neck. A soft gasp escaped her and she went a little light-headed. But then the pleasure spread all through her. From just that tiny little touch of his mouth on her skin.

  Now she turned her head to look at him. His face was so close, his eyes penetrating. Seeing the snorkeling mask still propped on his head and the wet locks that curled around his ears reminded her more fully where they were. And that she had a big snorkel mask on her head, too. This wasn’t how she’d expected this to happen. But when he leaned in again, this time bringing his mouth to hers, she didn’t fight it.

  It had been a long time since she’d been kissed and it moved through her like molten lava, filling every crack and crevice of her being. He was a good kisser. She tried not to wonder if she measured up and instead let herself sink into the moment, following instincts of her own, even if it had been a while since they’d been activated. It wasn’t a wild, passionate kiss, but a slow, thoughtful one—somehow tender but intense at the same time.

  When it ended, she let out a breath, met his gaze briefly, but then glanced away. Like the kiss itself, his eyes on her were so intense that, at such close proximity, she couldn’t quite keep looking. Because it was one more thing that made her feel a little weak inside.

  Even still, though, she settled her arms over his where they wrapped around her beneath the lifejacket. To make it clear that she liked it. And to maybe regain a little of her composure in some small way, exhibit some control. She wanted this, too, and she wanted him to know it.

  So it blew her mind a little when he said, “Um, we probably shouldn’t do this.”

  Her stomach dropped and she was glad he couldn’t see her face. “Why?”

  “Cami . . .” he began on a sigh, “you know why.” />
  “Because of my job, why I’m here.”

  He confirmed it with a “Yeah.”

  And she let out a breath, disappointment roiling thick inside her. “I can’t help my job.”

  “I know. But it’s kind of a problem between us, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  Her heart still beat too fast—it was too strange to be having this whole conversation with his arms still wrapped around her from behind in the water, his body still pressed warm against hers as they floated. “Well, you seem to be very no-strings-attached and all that,” she pointed out. “So if there are never any strings attached, what does it matter? Couldn’t this just be something we view as . . . separate from my job?”

  “It would be tough,” he said.

  Which maybe should have put her off. If he was fighting it so much, why should she even want it?

  And yet . . . they’d come this far, carried the flirtation forward to reach this kiss—and all that seemed like a total waste if they weren’t going to explore this further. “But . . . what if it’s worth it?” she asked.

  And it was a bold thing to say—but something made her put it out there. Maybe she wanted to be her normal, more outgoing self with him again. Or maybe she just didn’t want a chance at passion like this to pass her by.

  And that was when it hit her. It was the second part. Because Camille would have let it pass her by. Camille always did the sensible thing—she took care of business, she protected herself, she looked out for number one, she got the job done, she kept up walls, and hard shells, and armor.

  But Cami . . . Cami wanted this. Cami wanted to let down her guard, just a little. Because she’d never felt this way before—she’d never felt so drawn to a man, and as he held her in his arms, their bodies rolling with the waves, she realized she was actually terrified of letting this pass her by.

  Because what if it never came again? This kind of chemistry. This kind of want. This kind of connection. She’d truly never experienced anything quite like this before, so what if she never encountered that wild desire again in her entire life? She didn’t want to regret not feeling this to the fullest, not having this.

  She hadn’t said any of that, but she knew he felt it. All of it. Through osmosis or something.

  “Damn, Cami—you’re tempting me,” he murmured deep in her ear. Once more, she felt the words in her bikini bottoms. And it was like . . . being revived, brought back to life—in a really hot way.

  “Good,” she whispered. She gave him one more sideways glance, quick—because, even now, that was all she could manage.

  “I . . . didn’t know you felt this way,” he told her.

  And she could understand that. She’d been so busy doing her job, even while softening to him, that she supposed she hadn’t let her desire show—or at least not very much. But she couldn’t deny now that he’d drawn from her a whole new part of herself, or . . . a part of herself she’d just never really gotten to know. A gentler self. A . . . sexier self. Cami. She didn’t mind the name anymore. “I’ve been fighting it, too,” she explained. “But I’m tired of fighting. Aren’t you?”

  Ribbons of heat raced across her skin everywhere their bodies connected, even beneath the water, as she awaited his answer.

  “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he finally said again. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

  And Cami’s heart fell.

  This had come upon them so fast, yet now she really wanted it, wanted him.

  And on top of that, getting rejected sucked.

  “But hell,” he said, “maybe what it comes down to is . . . you’re just too damn hard to resist.”

  And before she could even fully absorb the sudden surrender, he slid one hand from around her waist down onto her thigh, then let it dip smoothly between her legs.

  “Do you mean we shall both be drowned?”

  J. M. Barrie, Peter and Wendy

  Chapter 11

  CAMI GASPED, stunned—by more than one thing. That he’d changed his mind so fast. That the move he’d made was so bold. And that—oh . . . it felt so amazingly good. One second he’d been telling her what a bad idea this was, and the next, he was stroking the flesh between her thighs through her bathing suit.

  Without quite planning it, she let her legs part, leaned further back into him in the water. It wasn’t a decision so much as a natural instinct. It felt as if she’d been waiting for this much longer than she actually had. Or . . . maybe she’d actually been waiting for this her entire life. Because it was so much more intoxicating than anything that had come before.

  She’d had good sex in previous relationships. But she wasn’t sure one solitary touch had ever echoed through her this profoundly, numbing her mind even as it intensified her body’s responses.

  But—wait. Despite how eager she’d grown to move forward with him, there were certain practical concerns. “Um, um . . . your friends.”

  Reece’s warm voice came low in her ear. “They can’t see us. Can’t hear us.” True enough—the catamaran had drifted, separating them from the others. “Close your eyes. Close your eyes. I want to make you feel good.”

  Oh boy. All things considered, it was hard to keep arguing. He made excellent points. And he wanted to make her feel good. A few days ago she couldn’t have dreamed Reece Donovan would ever want to make her feel good. And that made this sort of like a miracle. And you couldn’t just pull the plug on a miracle, right? Especially a miracle this . . . consuming.

  He began to kiss her neck as he touched her beneath the water. Mmm—she’d forgotten how nice neck kisses were, how they could tingle all through you. The sensations seemed to vibrate inside her in sparkly little waves, amplifying what she felt in her bikini bottoms.

  She moved against his hand now—again, not a decision but a primal instinct. The truth was, she couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried. Her fears of just a few moments ago were being sweetly assuaged—this chemistry with Reece wasn’t passing her by; it was unfolding, they were living it, breathing it, experiencing it. And even if it never came again, in her whole life, she would have this, this hot, electrically charged connection with him.

  Every time she remembered the oddness of where they were—the swim mask on her head, the lifevest she wore, the fact that they floated in the ocean—it seemed almost surreal. And again, not the way she’d pictured it. But when she closed her eyes and forgot all that, it was just so, so hot. Hot to let herself go in his arms. Hot that he wanted her to. Hot that he was touching her where she most longed for it, needed it.

  And then soon—mmm—the unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against her ass. Oh, yum. She wanted all of him. She wanted to be touched by him, kissed by him—but she wanted that part, too.

  She tried to keep from emitting moans of delight lest it be heard on the opposite side of the catamaran that now seemed to tower above them nearby in the water—and instead her mounting pleasure came out in a series of breathy sighs.

  Until . . . until . . . the sighs grew a little shakier, more heated, and she knew she was reaching a certain, blessed point of no return she couldn’t have foreseen even a few minutes earlier. Eyes shut, she bit her lip, forgot the people on the other side of the boat, felt nothing but the sun on her face, the warm water caressing her skin, and the sexy man embracing her, stroking her, and . . . . oh God, yes . . . making her come.

  The staggering orgasm moved through her more forcefully than any climax of her life—jolting her body in his arms, again, again. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from screaming out, but feared a few small whines escaped her. She gripped the arm around her waist with both hands to give her some sense of purchase in the water.

  When it finally ended, she let her head drop back against his shoulder. It still felt so wonderfully right to be in his arms, to just rest there now. Warm. Somehow safe.

  But maybe that’s how you always feel when you’re intimate
with a guy. Maybe you’ve just forgotten.

  And then another thought hit her and she voiced it aloud, although her breath came soft, tired. “You must be a really good swimmer.”

  “What?” he asked, clearly taken aback.

  “You must be a great swimmer. To be able to . . . you know . . . just float around doing something like that.”

  “Salt water’s buoyant,” he pointed out, “and your lifejacket helps, too. But yeah, I’m a good swimmer.” Though he sounded distracted, like his thoughts were really elsewhere. Which she supposed made sense and was actually a good thing.

  Until a few seconds later when he said, “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Huh?” Tensing inside, she automatically lifted her head from his shoulder, turned it to look at him.

  “I mean, like I said, probably not a good idea.”

  She lowered her chin, narrowed her gaze. “You’re still stuck on that?”

  “You’re not?”

  “No,” she said emphatically. “And if I can let it go, why can’t you?”

  He let his eyes widen slightly to reply, “Uh, maybe I have more at stake.”

  And rather than weigh it, Cami said the first thing that popped into her head. “Maybe so, maybe not. Maybe my job is at stake. Maybe I’m willing to just forget all that for right now because . . . because I want you.” Wow, okay, that was really putting it out there. Yet given what they’d just done together, she supposed she’d already sort of put it out there—just in a different way. Which was why she was getting a little offended by his attitude. “But if you don’t feel the same—fine.” And with that, she physically detached herself from him in the water.

  Which made her feel like she was going to sink, despite the lifevest, and she began to flail around a little.

  Reece just sighed and said, “Come here,” and hauled her back against him, this time face to face. Her arms circled his neck and his hands cupped her bottom—in order to support her, she was pretty sure, but it still seemed oh so personal.