Busted: Promise Harbor, Book 3 (19 page)

“Just a little cute?”

Hayley squirmed in his arms, and he loosened his hold as if to drop her in the lake. She squealed, an awfully girly sound for a woman who’d fired fifty thousand volts into him without blinking.

“Tell me the truth, Hayls.”

She glanced down at the water. “I will. Just put me down first.”

“So that you can bolt?” Or end up shoving him in the lake? “I don’t think so.”

“I won’t run.”

She sounded so convincing that he couldn’t help but play along. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

He started to pull her back, then dropped her even lower. “Tell me.”

Her eyes widened. “Jackson. Don’t—”

Chapter Eight

He released her, laughing at the splash she made hitting the water.

Three seconds later she came up sputtering. “Ass.” She swam the couple strokes to reach the dock and held up a hand.

How stupid did he look? Jackson backed up, well out of reach should she try—emphasis on
try
—to get ahold of him.

She pushed her wet hair back from her face and hoisted herself onto the docks. He might have laughed if his attention hadn’t been snagged by the way her yellow T-shirt was plastered to her chest. The outlines of her nipples were clearly visible through her equally drenched bra.

So help him, that’s all it took and he was hard for her. He didn’t even need to be within touching distance to feel his blood punch through his veins, all the way to his cock.

Jackson spun around and strode for the house. He didn’t stop when she called out his name or when she told him to get his ass back there. He didn’t stop until he reached the porch and yanked the door open.

The short walk didn’t cool him off, not even a little bit. He tried to convince himself to walk straight on through to the kitchen and out the back door. A whole lot less complicated that way.

But he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay right where he was.

The front door opened and closed behind Hayley, the sound of her bare feet barely noticeable coming down the hall.

“I suppose now you’re ready to call it a night?” She ducked into the half bath next to the stairs and grabbed a towel. Despite the water running down her legs—legs that would look best wrapped around his waist—she focused on wringing out the ends of her hair with the towel.

“You might not want to know the answer to that.”

Something in his voice must have alerted her to what was going through his head. Or maybe it was the undeniable arousal he was sporting, and it wasn’t getting any better with only a see-through T-shirt and skimpy shorts between her and the hands clenched at his side.

“Throwing me into the lake once tonight wasn’t enough for you?”

“That’s the problem. I can’t seem to get enough of anything where you’re concerned.” He paused. “Except maybe the tasing.” Once was plenty.

He crowded her against the wall and took the towel, letting it drop to the floor.

Her voice lowered, like she might not be getting enough air with him pressing up against her. “What about the handcuffs?”

“I’m not ready to rule them out entirely.”

She planted her hands on his chest but didn’t push him away. “I’m going to get you wet.”

“Christ, I hope so.”

Hayley sucked in a breath, the catch in her voice dragging his attention right to her mouth.

Tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, he gave himself a second to absorb the charged current drawing them closer, his mouth a whisper from sweeping across hers. And then he kissed her, slowly. He took his time sinking into the kiss, savoring the faint taste of beer and fresh water on her skin.

Her tongue stroked across his, slick and warm, and he groaned into her mouth. He broke from her lips to explore her throat. She tipped her head, giving him complete access.

Jackson gripped her hips, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of her shirt. Her skin was soft and warm, and he needed to see more of it. Keeping his hands off her until this point had been almost impossible, and he couldn’t stop himself now. He tugged her shirt over her head, letting it drop next to the towel.

Dark nipples showed through the simple white cotton bra she wore. He traced the thin line of lace that decorated the trim. Hayley shivered, her lips parting as if she might say something, but it only made him need to kiss her again, to steal any words that would remind either of them that this was a bad idea in a lot of ways.

He half expected her to find a reason to stop, but he couldn’t bring himself to rush a second of this. He slanted his mouth over hers, ignoring the ball of his nerves in his stomach. Like the last few moments before a fight on the ice, he knew the restless energy would settle, so he deliberately slowed the rhythm of the kiss.

Her body was warm against his despite the wet clothes, and the smell on her skin, lazy summer days spent at the lake, reminded him of his adolescence and all the times he’d been convinced he knew it all.

The only thing he knew for sure right now was how much he wanted Hayley.

Dipping down, he licked his way to the curve of her breast and closed his mouth around a dark nipple straining against the material. Hayley moaned, clutching his shoulders when he gently bit down.

The heaviness between his legs intensified, and he straightened long enough to press himself against her. The pleasure of it nearly made his eyes roll back in his head. He cupped her ass, sliding his palms over the wet denim and then up beneath the hem of her shorts.

A sound of uncertainty left her lips.

“You’re thinking. Should I be worried?” There was a good chance she’d need those fifty thousand volts to make him let go of her at this point.

“No.” Hayley shook her head, wondering if that meant she had to be a little out of her mind. The more he kissed her—faster, deeper, consuming her—the tighter she held on to him. It had been so long since she felt such a rush of heat simmering in her belly, far more intense than she could remember.

And so freaking delicious.

Jackson settled his hands back on her hips and she almost grabbed them to stick them back on her behind. She wanted him holding her there, pushing against her so she could feel every inch of him through his pants.

His finger brushed across her stomach, circling her navel. Eyes locked on hers, he undid the button on her shorts. His finger closed around the zipper, and she felt one notch after another give way.

His dark head bent, his mouth finding the sensitive spot at her collarbone, and her eyes slid shut. Edging closer, he planted a hand flat on the wall next to her head, leaving the other to slide into her shorts.

The heat from his palm burned all the way through her panties, and that was before he moved it in agonizingly slow circles.

Hayley pitched her hips, grinding into his hand just as slowly. Warm, sweet flames curled through her, and between her legs kept getting hotter and hotter.

His thumb brushed her clit in passing, and she shifted to recapture the touch. Jackson laughed against her lips, the sound rich and seductive. Like other times before this, he was playing with her, teasing, and she both hated and loved every second of it.

“How long has it been?”

It was her turn to laugh. “You want details?”

“What I want is inside you. But I don’t want to hurt you if it’s been a while.” His finger slipped beneath the edge of her drenched panties to stroke along her wet folds.

Her breath shuddered out. “Does it feel like you’re hurting me?”

He shook his head. “You’re soaked.”

She closed her hand over his. “Then I guess you have nothing to worry about.” She guided him to her opening.

Jackson didn’t need any more help. He pumped a finger inside her. Her whole body clenched in sheer pleasure. In and out he thrust, filling her up. Her lungs worked to drag in more air, her body already straining toward the release skimming the edges of her nerve endings.

A slow swirl across her clit had her moaning. Then he did it again, circling a little slower, then faster.

Oh god. She tucked her face against the strong column of his neck, nearly panting with the need to come.

He found the perfect rhythm, stroking back and forth across her clit, waiting until she moaned before thrusting his fingers inside her all over again. A little bit dizzy, she leaned in to him, seeking his mouth and another kiss that just might finish her off completely.

Jackson gripped her shorts, tugging them all the way down. She reached for his zipper, and everything inside aching at the thought of him sliding inside her.

A sound registered at the back of her mind, but it took a second for her to notice the house phone was ringing.

“Ignore it,” Jackson pleaded, the words barely audible between their mouths.

His button was undone and she ran her hand along his lower belly, following the faint arrow of hair that disappeared into his boxers. Her shorts pooled around her ankles, his hand still teasing and stroking along her slick center.

She yanked at his boxers, and he didn’t even wait to shove them down before he tucked the tip of his cock against her, sliding along the seam of her.

“Hayley!” Her grandfather's voice boomed through the answering machine. “I need to see you. Now. It’s important.”

“Forget the damn robe. I’m not here to fulfill your Hugh Hefner fantasies.”

Hayley stopped in the doorway of her grandfather’s hospital room. Gramps stood opposite Trudy, a four-foot-eleven nurse. His cheeks were flushed, his big bushy eyebrows slanted in a fierce frown. Although he’d lost nearly thirty pounds since his chemo treatments, he was still just as overbearing and grumpy as ever.

Trudy was used to it, though. Even though Gramps towered over the fortyish nurse with her meaty arms, wide hips—which had accommodated seven children and she didn’t let anyone forget it—and wicked mean streak, Hayley’s money was on Trudy.

“Maybe you can reason with him.” Sighing, Trudy walked past Hayley.

Gramps looked at her. “She wouldn’t let me watch the NHL draft, and I’m the unreasonable one?” His voice rose on the last part, guaranteeing Trudy heard him, along with everyone else in this wing.

“I’ve got Ativan and I’m not afraid to use it,” came the threat from down the hall.

To prevent her grandfather from engaging in a verbal sparring match, Hayley closed the door. It wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on him giving one of the nurses a hard time. Usually it stemmed from boredom on his part, and torturing the nurses was how he entertained himself. Trudy had caught on long ago and dished it out as much as he did.

Gramps sat on the end of his bed, staring at the blank TV screen.

“Matt is recording the draft for you.”

“Not the same,” he grumbled, then focused all seventy-two years of weathered face and perceptive eyes directly at her. “You haven’t been by the last couple days.”

“I dropped by yesterday. You were napping.” Granting her another reprieve from talking about the bar fight at Stone’s and taking Jackson away in cuffs. The longer she could avoid the subject, the better, as far as she was concerned. Her time looked to be about over though.

“Hmmph.” He took a sip of water from his glass, crunching on a piece of ice. “Heard you arrested Jackson.”

She’d known it was coming, but she still winced. One of his friends had probably called him on speed dial the second she left the bar with Jackson in cuffs.

“Hayley Delilah Stone.”

Sighing inwardly at the use of her middle name, she squared her shoulders. “No charges were filed.”

His brows crumpled together in a familiar expression that usually preceded a threat to take the stick and show the kid which end he was supposed to be shooting with. Instead he surprised her by bursting out laughing.

Wondering if she’d slipped into the Twilight Zone, Hayley could only stare. He was amused by that? His laughter triggered a nasty cough that rattled his chest hard enough to break a rib.

She handed him the glass of water, and he sipped from it until his coughing subsided.

“That’s my girl.”

“You’re not mad?” She had assumed he would be at least disappointed. Annoyed had been more likely, and it turned out she was wrong on both.

“Boy probably had it coming.” Gramps sounded anything but surprised.

“Wasn’t his fault, really.” She’d seen Jackson dive into fights with far less provocation, and although most of those had been on the ice, at least he hadn’t been the first one to make a move this time.

“He always did think with his fists first.”

Hayley shook her head. “The other guy got in his face, Gramps. Didn’t leave him with much of a choice.” Hadn’t left her with much of one either.

Gramps amused smile vanished. “It’s true then.”

“Yeah,” she answered vaguely, unsure if they were talking about the same thing.

“Goddamn it.” He bolted to his feet, moving faster than Hayley had seen him go in years. He nearly knocked her backward in his rush to get to the small closet across from his bed.