Authors: Inara Scott
Ryker looked pained. “I can’t think about it right now.”
Alix leaned over and grabbed her purse, rifled through it,
and extracted her glasses. She started to slip them back on, but Ryker’s hand
came out and landed on her forearm.
“Don’t,” he said.
“I can’t see the road.”
“So imagine it. You’ve got a good imagination.”
She turned the glasses over in her hands. “Why?”
“Because I need to talk to a real person tonight, not an
actress.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just mean that I never know what to expect with you.
One minute, you’re walking into Tiger Lily’s like some kind of siren; the next,
you’re having dinner with my family and convincing them you’re a harmless
wedding photographer.”
Alix paused and bit her lip. “I really do need glasses,
Ryker,” she said softly. “And maybe you’re right, and they are a bit
unflattering, but that’s part of me too. It’s all part of who I am.”
He didn’t respond but threw on his blinker and cut across
all lanes of traffic to exit.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my place. To the beach.”
“But Ryker, we need to get back to work.”
He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
The touch of real pain in his voice surprised her, and she
darted him a quick look.
“Please,” he said.
Though nothing had changed about him physically—the
broad shoulders looked just as hard and imposing, the jaw set and firm—she
felt a sudden vulnerability in his rigid visage. A need in him that he must
have hated to reveal.
Alix closed her eyes and struggled with her own desire to
retreat, to run away from the vulnerability she saw in him. But there was no
running in her tonight. She’d already seen more of him, and shared more of
herself, than she would have thought possible. Running away no longer seemed an
option.
She nodded.
By the time they pulled into Ryker’s driveway, the sky had
turned to a deep, velvety purple. Ryker led Alix around the side of the house,
where a tall flight of steps wound through the rock and sand to the beach.
Damp, salty air rolled off the ocean and filled her senses with the comforting
feeling of home. Silently, they worked their way down onto the cool sand below.
The tide must have been out, because the beach seemed to
go on forever, the waves crashing in the distance. Ryker dropped down onto the
ground and began to remove his shoes.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He peeled off his socks and stood. Dark pants puddled
around his feet. Giving her a wicked smile, he threw his briefs on top of the
pile. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stripping. I need a swim.”
Alix swallowed hard and tried not to look below his neck. “But
it’s…cold. And…”
“Yes?” He began unbuttoning his shirt. The dark obscured
his features, but she could see the gleam of those white teeth.
“I’m not going swimming.”
“Yes, you are,” he replied calmly, baring his chest as he
removed the last piece of clothing.
“Not, I’m not.” She crossed her arms over her chest and
stuck out her lower lip. “I’m from Oregon. No one swims in our ocean but
children and insane people with wet suits. I guess the children are insane too.
I’ve never understood it, actually.”
“Well, this is California. We love our ocean. We swim in
it every chance we get.”
She flung her arm around in a circle, indicating the
deserted beach and street far behind them. “What if someone sees?”
“There’s no public access to this beach for miles in
either direction. Besides, the moon won’t be up for at least an hour. It’s
dark. No one is going to see anything.”
She looked up at the sky. Stars had begun to appear like
tiny pinholes of light in the black sky, but they barely illuminated the
contours of Ryker’s face. She resolutely steered her eyes from his naked form
and tried to keep her breathing steady.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He took her hand and pressed a kiss on the inside of her
palm. A shiver of excitement left her stomach quaking.
“Alix, we just went through the equivalent of a war zone.
We need to decompress.”
“And swimming together naked will allow us to…decompress?”
Her words trailed off in a long, slow hiss as he pressed his mouth again to her
skin, this time kissing the tips of her fingers and then drawing the littlest
one inside his mouth. He sucked gently, and Alix froze, unable to move, breathe,
or think of anything other than the warm, wet feeling.
He took a step closer, let her hand fall to her side, and
tugged at the hem of her shirt.
“Ryker, I think we need to discuss—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he had pulled the
shirt over her head and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. Warmth
rolled off his skin like the cool salty air flowing inland from the ocean.
“Are you really going to make me do this for you?” he
asked. “Because I will. It’s not safe to swim alone. It’s the buddy rule, you
know. No swimming without a buddy.”
A choked laugh emerged from her lips. “Oh, is that it? You
need a buddy?”
He bent down to whisper in her ear, so close she could
feel his breath on her cheek. “Will you be my buddy, Alix Z, or Daisy Zahn, or
whoever you are right now?”
She knew she should say no. Ryker was a man of strong
desires, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be in the position she
hated—protesting, pushing back, trying to set limits that no one really
understood—least of all her. But his body, so tall and lean, beckoned
her. The ocean waves roared, and the water smashed into the sand, the sound
familiar and soothing. Then Ryker kissed her ear and closed his teeth around
the lobe in a gentle nip.
Alix sucked in a deep breath. She wasn’t sure which was
more dangerous—being in the water with Ryker or out of it.
Without thinking, she pushed against his chest, needing
only a moment of space to clear her head. But her fingers met smooth skin, taut
muscles, and crinkly hair, and she was suddenly acutely aware that her torso
was almost as bare as his, only a scrap of white lace covering her breasts.
He took her face between his hands and swooped down to
press a quick kiss on her lips.
She pulled away, shaking her head and clinging desperately
to the last ounce of willpower she possessed. “This is too much, Ryker. I’m not
playing games with you. No sex. Got it?”
He stopped and eyed her seriously. “I’d never force you to
do anything you don’t want,” he said softly. “I just want to be near you. I
think you want that too.”
Something caught in her throat, and Alix had to look away.
Why did he have to look at her like that? Like he somehow understood?
Of their own accord, her fingers reached back and unhooked
her bra. The lace fell to the ground, and she shivered when the air hit her
sensitive nipples. She remained frozen while he stared at her for a moment, and
then lowered her skirt, taking her panties with it, until she stood naked
before him.
“I wish we had the moonlight. I can picture your skin,
gleaming and white under the moon.” One hand traced the outline of her breast,
slid across and, with unerring precision, landed on her nipple. She closed her
eyes, almost dizzy with the intensity of the rush of sensation that followed.
“On second thought,” he said, “perhaps this is better.”
Just when she thought she would melt into the sand, he
took her hand and urged her toward the water.
“Ready, buddy?”
She did not trust her voice to speak but began to move
toward the ocean. The sand underfoot grew cold and wet, and then the foamy
water lapped her ankles.
What was she doing? Alix shuddered when the water hit her
calves. The darkness added an air of tension to the scene that curled her toes
around the shells and rough grains of sand beneath her. Ryker’s hand pulled her
deeper, goose bumps rising on her flesh and her nipples hardening to painful
peaks.
When a low wave hit her thighs, she gasped and stopped.
“You swim in this water?”
Ryker chuckled. “We’ll have to take the quick plunge. No
sense going slow. Ready?”
Words tangled in her throat. She made a strangled sound of
assent as another wave smashed against her midriff.
He released her and held up his hand. “After the next
wave.”
Water rolled past, making her catching her breath at the
sudden chill.
“One…two…”
“Wait!”
“Three!” He let go of her hand and dove forward.
Alix sucked in a breath and followed. The shock of cold
started her heart tripping, and she pulled several short strokes under water
before coming to her feet.
“Whoo!” She couldn’t prevent the exhilaration from
emerging from her lips. The water caressed her naked skin, and when she stood,
water lapped around her breasts.
“Ryker?” Alix spun around, but in the darkness, all she
could see was the glow of lights on the hills in the distance.
When he didn’t respond, she relaxed back against the
water, her body starting to adjust to the temperature. Growing bolder, she
released her legs and floated on her back, looking at the stars, feeling calmed
by the water supporting her naked form.
A swirl beside her leg alerted her to Ryker’s presence,
and then he arose behind her, his hands spanning her waist, his head breaking
the water’s surface beside her ear.
“Miss me?” he breathed.
It was natural—inevitable, really—that she
roll over to look at him. And then bring their faces together and join their
lips in a salty kiss, their bodies slipping against each other as the water
surged and roiled around them.
“You’re warm,” she said when he pressed her against him.
He crouched down in the water, half standing, half floating, and tugged her
into a tight embrace.
“I can’t have my buddy getting hypothermia.”
“I don’t think that’s a problem.”
He dropped a kiss behind her ear, and then along the nape
of her neck. Their bodies meshed so perfectly she hardly considered how
comfortable it was to be with him, how natural it felt to have his skin against
hers.
The water moved gently around them, surging and
withdrawing. Ryker relaxed his hold, and she rolled onto her back, her head
naturally falling in the crook of his neck.
“I have to admit, this is a lovely way to decompress,” she
said. “Do you do this often?”
“Every chance I get. I swim every morning when I’m not
shooting and come down here at night. There are benefits to having money.”
She snorted. “A few. Must be a big change from growing up
in South Central.”
He was quiet for a moment, and she wondered if she’d
insulted him. But then he said, “I think about it every day, what I left
behind. You can’t help but do that, here in LA. It’s all around you, the
inequities, the poverty. I try to do what I can to help, but it’s hard. You
never know what you can really do. The problems are so big.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked.
“Of course.” He ran his fingers over her breasts, and she
sighed with pleasure.
“I donated the profits from
Candy Fever
to my old
high school so they could build their art program.” She giggled. “I did it
anonymously so no one could accuse them of getting their funding from naughty
films.”
He chuckled, and she felt the rumble deep in his chest. “I
bet there’s some old biddies somewhere who would love to know that.”
“I know. It’s delicious, isn’t it?”
He stroked his fingertips up and down her rib cage.
“You’re remarkable, Alix.”
“I don’t know about that. If it weren’t for that program,
and for the help of people like Gunther and Elias, I would never have gotten
out.”
“I’ve seen your pictures,” he said gravely. “I’m not sure
artistry like that could ever have been contained in wedding pictures.”
Warm honey spread over her chest and stomach, filling her
limbs with a delicious sweetness. “What about you? Did you have a mentor?
Someone who helped you make it out?”
He moved beneath her, the pressure of his hands at her
hips keeping her bottom firmly centered over his groin. “Not really. There
aren’t a lot of people lining up to help an angry young Latino boy who’s busy
pretending he doesn’t need any help. No, I just got lucky. I hit a few
billboards, and people liked my looks. Once I got cast in
Angel Dust
, I
started getting calls. It snowballed from there.”
Alix rocked, ever so slightly, against the rod that
centered at her back and then rode between her buttocks. She closed her eyes
and let the sensual pulse between her legs wash over her body.
“Everyone at USC said you were the hardest working student
they’d seen in years, and the most talented.”
“Talk to some of my professors?” Ryker asked.
“Read a few interviews,” she admitted. “I don’t think it
was just luck.”
“I suppose I knew what I wanted, and I didn’t expect
anyone to get it for me.”
She reached around and outlined the edges of his buttocks.
They flexed and moved under her seeking fingers. The pulse between her legs
grew and magnified, taking over her hips, her stomach, her legs.
“You make me crazy,” he said, exhaling slowly. “Every time
I see you, I imagine touching you like this.”
He moved his hands higher to cup her breasts, and she
sighed and relaxed her head against his shoulder. He tweaked her nipples,
thrummed them once, then again, and she sucked in a deep breath. Her hips moved
in time with his caress, arching back against him and then releasing.
Forcing her eyes open, she stared up at the sky, allowing
herself to dissolve into the moment. The aching pleasure of his touch deepened,
while the need for more pressure, more contact, grew stronger. She reached farther
and took him in her hands, running her fingers along the length of his penis
and then gently cupping his balls.