Authors: Lorelie Brown
T
anner’s immediate reaction was to bristle. He hadn’t exactly invited her. Under no circumstances had he asked her opinion. Then he smiled. Leaned his shoulders back against the wall as prickly stucco caught at his shirt. “Jealous much?”
“Of you?” She gave a neatly dismissive huff. Two fingers flicked her bangs to the side. “No chance.”
He was struck with the sudden wish to see her hair damp and plastered to her temples again. No seawater needed; he’d make her work up a sweat. She had gorgeous legs that he could wrap around his hips.
He pushed all that down. No time, no place. He had a championship on the line. If that wasn’t enough, he had seen firsthand what happened to relationships broken by his hellacious travel schedule. Splitsville, pronto. The longest relationship he’d managed was six months. Nothing to brag about, but she’d gotten hella bored, hella fast being without him. “No, not of me. Of my family.”
Her smile looked a little smug. “Well, yeah. That’s a given. Have you met my mom?”
The hand he rubbed over the back of his head was
pushed by chagrin. “Um. Maybe? I’m the first one to admit that I was fairly self-centered in high school.”
“I think you might have. At Sage’s sixteenth birthday.” She winced a little, curling her hands around her thighs. “That was a mess.”
God, he did remember that. It had been one of the last times he’d been home. At that point, he’d known about Mako, but he’d bought his dad’s story about it being a onetime mistake. He’d learned soon after how much Hank lied. The truth had been so much more painful, an ongoing betrayal of everything their family stood for.
As a matter of fact, that hot mess of a birthday party had somewhat propelled the situation along. If he remembered right, the bleached blonde had been Avalon’s mom. The distraction over the inappropriately dressed woman who’d brought along a boyfriend ten years younger than her enabled Tanner to hit the keg more often than he otherwise would have. He’d barely been able to keep his mouth shut around his mom. After his further discoveries in Tahiti a few months later, he’d known he couldn’t go home.
Her chin rose. “Yeah, I see it. You remember.”
“See what?”
“That look.” She turned her gaze back out toward the far line of roofs. “Anyone who remembers my mom gets it eventually. A little distaste, heavy on the disgust. And often some doubt. Am I like her? Will I turn out like her?”
“You asking me, sweetheart? ’Cause I don’t know you near well enough to answer that.” He waggled his eyebrows. The moment had gotten way too deep for his liking. “Though you give me half a chance and I’ll find out.”
Her laugh was pretty. Light, surprisingly musical. He’d
have thought, based on her voice, that she’d have had more of a husky chuckle. “You keep trying, Tanner. You’ve got only your pride to hurt. Come on. There’s a party downstairs. Everyone’s waiting on you.”
She slipped back in the window with an easy twist of her hips. Inside, she dusted off the curve of her ass. Quite the pert curve, no less.
Drawn by that firm swell, he was in without thinking about it. But standing in what had once been his room, memories hit him all over again.
The weight of the secret threatened to drown him every time his mom smiled at him. And she was waiting downstairs to do a lot of that. Time was running out, in more than one way. It wasn’t enough that he was here again, dealing with the pictures of Hank everywhere he turned. Mako had given that damn interview. Everything was ticking down.
He wasn’t sure he could take it.
Somewhere along the years, he’d lost his way. Now that his dad was dead, it became harder every day to understand why he kept a shitty man’s secret. Except Avalon was pretty much proof of why, wasn’t she?
With no family of her own, she’d latched onto his sister and his mother. They’d welcomed her because they had that purity of spirit he’d been lacking all his life. They chilled and relaxed when he was driven to tear and shred his way through life. That was his father’s influence, pushing him to bigger and better. It wasn’t enough to have one championship; nail two. It wasn’t enough to have three sponsorships; you should find another. Drive. Ambition.
The strange thing was, he wondered if Avalon, under the surfer-chick front, had the same sort of buzz under her skin.
His hand darted out, almost without any conscious thought behind it. Her skin was smoother than liquid silk. Slicker than salt water between his fingers. He’d caught her by the waist, two fingers snaking under the bottom hem of her shirt.
Her lips parted silently. In the shadowy darkness of the room, moonlight picked out her eyes to make them gleam. Her head tilted slightly to the side. “What are you doing, Tanner?”
“I wasn’t kidding, you know.” He tugged her a little closer. A little nearer. Silence swirled around them, locking their breath together. Salt, sweet, the tiniest edge of a gasp. “Everything else aside . . . I want to know you.”
The smile she was biting back became something suspiciously like a snort of laughter. Lines cut under the apples of her cheeks as she tensed her mouth. “Has that line ever worked for you? Maybe when you snuck girls in here?”
“I didn’t,” he said, but it felt kind of like bluster, even to him. The back of his neck flushed hot. At least it was too dark for her to see the blush.
Her chin lifted even higher, but she didn’t step away. If anything, she leaned nearer. The cotton shirt brushed over his chest. Her eyes looked darker than normal, the pupils large pools. “Wanna try again? Liars don’t get in my panties.”
“Didn’t realize that was a possibility.”
“Possibility, yes. Guarantee, no. But lying to me’s the safest way to not get a shot.”
He followed the long, sleek line of her arms from her wrists all the way up to her shoulders. Then traced over the straight blade of collarbone hiding beneath her shirt. Most girls who showed up at circuit parties wore a hell
of a lot less. Bikinis, most of the time. While Avalon could have totally gotten away with that, she’d worn a V-neck shirt that gave only a hint of her cleavage. He’d seen her body before at the beach, but he was still hit with a sense of wonder. Curiosity. What she’d taste like once he’d unwrapped her.
He swallowed, dragging his gaze back up to her face. “What am I not supposed to be lying about, again?”
“Girls. In this room.”
“Yes. A bunch of them. I got them to come up after dark or when no one was home.”
“Inez Montoya.” Her head tilted to give him better access as he traced over the satin work that made up her skin. She still hadn’t touched him in any way.
She rested within his arms, but not a part of him. Not yet. He’d fix that soon enough.
It was becoming rapidly apparent that getting through the San Sebastian Pro without tasting Avalon was a ridiculous goal. “Yeah, Inez was one of them.” He hadn’t thought of that dark-haired beauty in years. It had been about six weeks after he’d graduated high school, when he’d gone to his first official ASP event.
Something about Avalon drove every woman out of his head. Her energy, maybe. Her smile sent a liquid rush through him. “I peeked.”
“Like hell.”
“I was thirteen. You didn’t close the door all the way. Man, did she have a nice rack.”
His jaw dropped open. “No, you didn’t.”
“Did too. I didn’t stick around for long, but . . .” She lifted up on her toes, close enough to whisper in his ear. The sweet scent of her wrapped around him. “I always wondered what it’d be like to kiss you.”
That was an invitation if he’d ever heard one. He kissed her.
At first he’d meant to stay soft. A tease. Something to get his mind off the swelling voices downstairs. The party he wouldn’t be able to avoid forever. The weight of the stares might be easier to bear if he had Avalon’s mouth.
But it got away from him.
She
got away from him.
Probably when she licked her tongue over his bottom lip, then took it between her teeth. Tugged. The sharp bite went straight to his cock. He filled, hardened, and the flashover want had him walking her backward. His arms wrapped low around her ass, grabbing that curve.
His fingertips found bare, silky skin at the hem of her skirt as he pushed her back into the wall.
Sinewy arms wound over his shoulders. Her wrists latched behind his neck, pulling their torsos together as if one. Her soft breasts cushioned his chest.
The way she kissed went straight to his head. She took and took, as if every motion was worship. Every taste a gift she gave him. He knew without saying a word that she’d ask for exactly what she needed from him. No guessing. No secrets.
God, that sounded good.
He hitched her higher against the wall, one arm between her and the cool wallpaper. They could fuck like this and it would be epic. Amazing. But it wasn’t time for that. Not yet.
Maybe not until he’d put the San Sebastian Pro behind him. He had to keep his head about him. Once in a decade was too much to risk on a woman. But he’d have to make sure that she understood it’d be a temporary thing, nothing long-term.
Drawing his mouth away from Avalon’s was even
more difficult than he expected, though. She kissed him back with enthusiasm that went all the way to his cock. The soft protest that dwelled in her throat stroked his ego. He pressed kisses over the line of her jaw, easing her back. She leaned her head against the wall with a sigh and looked at him from under her thick lashes, but said nothing.
He licked the last taste of her off his mouth. Something sweet, like oranges. “God, I needed that,” he breathed.
Her wrists tugged at the back of his neck. She laughed quietly. “That. Not me. Way to make a girl feel special.”
“You know what I meant.” Letting her down proved harder than he’d expected. He liked having a reason to grab her ass. It was a damn good one.
That ass twitched as she walked across the room. “What I do know is that you’re the last person in the world I should be fooling around with.”
“Funny, that felt like your tongue in my mouth, all right.” He wasn’t even sure why he was arguing his case. If anything, he ought to walk away and keep his energy for the next couple weeks of surfing.
But he’d rucked up her shirt somewhere in that kiss. It twisted higher on one side of her waist, revealing a silk-soft stretch of skin that ended to the left of her belly button. He wanted to drop to his knees and lick that skin. See if it tasted half as sweet as her mouth, or if she’d be all ocean salt.
“Oh, it was.” She picked up the camera. Her fingers curled around it with a particular level of affection. She flicked away a microscopic fleck of dirt. “People will say I got the gig because I was already in your pants.”
“No, they’ll be too busy saying you got the gig
because you grew up with my sister. Won’t bother to look past their noses.” He shoved his fists into the pockets of his cargo shorts. His body was taking its sweet time calming down. Probably because every time he started to reel himself in, he looked at the tiny patch of skin above her waistband. “No one would have to know.”
“I’d be your dirty little secret?”
“Nah,” he said, drawing the word out. “I’d be yours. Totally different.”
She laughed. Throwing her head back turned her neck into a pale column. Scooping up her camera bag, she slung it over her shoulder, then adjusted the strap across her chest like armor. “I have no idea how you got the reputation of a ladies’ man.”
He shrugged. “Me neither.”
“Lucky for you, I’m an odd girl.” She stepped close, rising up on her toes. Her soft cheek skated over his jaw as her mouth lifted toward his ear. “I’ll think about it. If you quit ditching me to surf on your own.”
The smile rose from somewhere way down deep inside him, like a sunken ship rising again. Up through the depths this party had tried to drown him with. “You don’t mean that.”
“Nope. Not really.” She patted the center of his chest with one hand, but then snapped off a few pictures with the left. The damned camera was like an extension of her. She didn’t even bother with the viewfinder half the time. “But if you go surf on your own, I’ll toss every pair of your board shorts on a bonfire and you can swim naked. I don’t think I’d mind that much, but the tourist crowds might have something to say about it.”
P
laying with fire was too damned much fun. That was the only problem with Tanner. She wasn’t going to be able to stay away from him. Avalon’s knees shook as she made her way down the stairs to the main level of the house. Her fingers left a faint trail of sweat over the wrought-iron banister while her heart was a wickedly thumping beast.
Holy sweet baby Jesus, could the man kiss. He’d turned her upside down and given her insides a good shake, like she was some kind of snow globe. A little play toy to amuse him and distract him from unpleasantness.
She’d be damned if she was going down that easily. As soon as he won, he’d be gone. Her penchant for emotionally unavailable men was bad enough. She’d realized her relationship limitations after Matthew. No need to add physically unavailable.
But going down at all . . . Yeah, that looked likely. She wanted more of those kisses. More of his rough, raw grip on her hips. The way he’d picked her up and held her against the wall had been amazing. She stuffed down a
shiver as her foot landed on the bottom step. She needed more of that. More of him.
The years hadn’t seen her celibate exactly, not by a long shot. But Matthew had left her kind of raw. The problem hadn’t even been that he’d dumped her. It had been that he’d dumped her when she’d been so obliviously confident they’d made a great couple. Only after the fact had she realized where they’d failed. The signs she should have caught to make him happier.
There hadn’t been anyone lately. Tasty opportunities didn’t often present themselves while she did her best to scramble to the top of the photography world. This one was too good to pass up, really.
But she’d have to step carefully.
Weaving her way through the throng of bodies that pressed around her, she kept her camera up. Snapped a shot of the surf manager canoodling in the corner with an up-and-coming women’s champion. Another picture of three supposed rivals who were listening to a fourth telling a story by waving his hands above his head. Probably describing some epic air he’d caught off a wave.
This world was her home. The strange mix of the surfers’ laid-back personas swirled in with the cutthroat business of promotions and a healthy helping of athletic devotion and determination. But she needed her own entry. She’d spent four years collecting a bachelor’s in photography but she’d spent enough years in the surfing world. She’d earned her place.
The photos of Tanner would prove it. She’d have the same incisive eye as the rest of her peers, the same editing to get the right frame on the shot. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she’d have some brilliant orgasms to go along with.
The kitchen was relatively empty, the quiet bouncing off the tiled counters. Sage had staked out a place near the fridge, sitting at the right angle of two countertops and holding a beer.
Avalon snagged herself a drink out of an ice-filled tub set to the side of the room, then levered to sit next to her friend. “You making it?”
Sage nodded. Her mouth curved into a beautiful but wistful-looking smile. “I miss Dad.”
At a party like this, Hank Wright would have owned the room Avalon walked through. He’d have held court from the living room, but not in any bad way. People wanted to listen to Hank, wanted to impress him. He’d have corralled them into less smashing pandemonium, more of a chill vibe.
The soda flowed sweetly over her tongue, but it still couldn’t wash the taste of Tanner out of her mouth. “This wouldn’t even be happening if your dad were around. Not the same way.”
Not with Tanner here, being the unspoken portion.
“I know.” Sage pushed a sheaf of hair off her bare shoulder. “Which I think only makes missing him worse. He’d have loved it. Loved having everyone under one roof.”
“And it never happened.” She didn’t get it, didn’t get Tanner. It was for the best that she didn’t have time for anything in-depth with the man. A long-term relationship was off the table not only because he’d be leaving in a month, but also because Avalon hoped that she’d be able to understand any man she got involved with. At least a little bit. More than she’d managed before. She flicked at the tab to her soda with the corner of her thumb, over and over, making a tinny noise.
Until Sage put her hand over Avalon’s. “Please stop, darling.”
She smiled weakly. “Sorry.” Too much churned in her head. Most of the time, she wished for Sage’s easy calm. Even when Sage was missing her father so badly, she seemed relaxed.
Avalon ought to give up and go take some photographs. It was her job, after all, which gave her a yummy little thrill. She was making it. Finally. But after the interlude upstairs, after Tanner’s mouth and the thrilling way he’d held her, she needed some calm. Some relaxation.
She’d never learned how to get there on her own. She always soaked it up from Sage.
Two men stepped through the open archway, their shoes ringing on the tile. One was vaguely familiar and the other was Jack Crews. Pretty boy of the world champions—in a way. He wore a perfectly pressed, pin-striped button-down shirt over slim dark trousers. Five levels fancier than anyone else at the party, but he pulled it off with ease. At his side walked a tall, slender Asian man with black hair, the same man who’d gotten Tanner riled at the bar.
Jack gave a wide, bright smile that creased the corners of his blue eyes. The smile almost outshadowed the faint bruise at the corner of his jaw. He’d been fighting again. “I heard I could find the sweet stuff in here.”
She grinned. There’d always been a soft spot in her heart for Jack. Hank had taken him under his wing after Tanner had flown the coop.
“You heard right.” She pushed off the counter and flew into his open arms. “You’re late enough.”
“Had to pick up a guest.” Keeping his arm hooked around her shoulders, he waved a hand toward the man at his side. “Avalon and Sage, this is Mako Wright.”
“How funny,” Sage said on a light laugh. “That’s my last name too.”
He gave a slight bow of his head, but the way he held his mouth was sharp. His eyes were dark shadows that gave little emotion away. “It’s a common enough name.”
Sage shrugged. “Sure is. Means you’re extra welcome around here.”
His mouth curled in a slightly devious-looking smile but his reply was polite enough as he and Sage drifted to the far side of the kitchen island. Sage was rambling on about the history of the name, all stuff her father had told her a hundred times. Avalon didn’t really like the way Mako kept watching her. In a way, he seemed as sharklike as his name. Nearly reptilian in his level of intensity.
Avalon held back a shiver under Jack’s linen-clad arm. He sent her a curious look out of the corner of his eyes. This close, the carefully scruff-covered jawline looked pettably sharp. Jack had to be one of the prettiest men she’d ever seen but still, she couldn’t think of anything but Tanner’s blunt features.
She looped her arm around Jack’s waist anyway and nestled closer. “Why didn’t we ever hook up?”
“Because you were clever enough to realize what a bad influence I’d be on you.” He tossed the words about lightly enough, but his eyes told on him. Jack’s childhood had been even more messed up than hers, though she didn’t know all the details. He hadn’t been lucky enough to meet the Wrights until he was in his twenties.
He played hard and fought harder. Somehow he was always rising to the defense of some poor—and usually female—bartender getting the sharp side of an asshole’s tongue. Or there was the time he’d taken on three men
because they’d pinched a cocktail waitress’s ass. He had radar for damsel-oriented distress, and almost all of it ended up with him brawling in a back alley.
The upside-down look of his mouth, with its lower lip held slightly tighter than the top, had sent plenty of surfer groupies fluttering and squealing. There wasn’t a single heat where he didn’t have girls in bikinis waiting on the sand.
Avalon had never found herself pinned up against a wall being kissed by him. Or kissing back. Never wanted to, for that matter. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“Let’s ditch this pop stand and I’ll show you a good time, then.” His hair was so short-cropped that it was a bristly cap.
Nothing to brush back, no golden mess to tousle. “You’re lying again.”
He looked forward, catching Sage in his sights. His mouth pulled, the line of his cheekbones becoming a sharp blade. The corners of his eyes tucked deeper. “I am.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” He flashed another smile, but she shook her head. Tugged on the back of his shirt.
“Tell.”
“Because some people in this world are broken, and some are not.” The expression he turned on her made her want to pet him, tell him everything would be all right in the end. “Some of us have broken pieces and we need to find somewhere to fit them into. You and me? Our pieces don’t fit.”
Too much, too heavy. She had enough crap to deal with and maybe it made her a shitty friend, but she couldn’t take on his stuff at the moment. She grinned and
rested her head on his shoulder in a coy gesture. “Boys and girls. Things fit. I promise.”
He laughed. “Wanna prove it?”
“With you? Not on your life.” Definitely not when she still had Tanner’s taste in her mouth. Or when her girl bits were still tingly and wanting Tanner’s bits. “You know what, though? Once I’m done with this WavePro contract, I’d like to do a shoot with you.”
He tugged lightly on her ponytail. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask. I was worried I wasn’t handsome enough for your lens.”
She laughed. Couldn’t help it. A rising level of confidence left her buoyant. “You
so
don’t think that’s the problem.”
“I’ll tell my manager you’re going to call. Work out the schedule.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
Sage laughed at something Mako said, then reached out to pat his shoulder. The gesture was entirely friendly, but under Avalon’s fingertips, Jack’s side went rock hard. His freaking
side
, over his ribs, as if Avalon needed any more proof of how fit he was. But there was something else about it. She tilted her head up, looking at the angular lines of his face.
Maybe there was another reason she and Jack had never hooked up.
Maybe they both had a propensity for Wrights. Wouldn’t that be a sad, sad idea?
From the other rooms, the general level of noise swelled. She sighed. “I need to get back out there.”
“Gotta find Tanner?” Sage grinned at her.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “I can’t remember if I mentioned that I’m ridiculously proud of you.”
“What’s this?” Mako asked. Intonation gave his voice a foreign vibe, but Avalon couldn’t place it.
“Our Avalon has been chosen for the next WavePro photo layout. They’re known for making a surf photog’s career,” Sage said. The genuine pleasure in Sage’s voice was what marked her as good and pure all the way down to her toes. “She’s following my brother around.”
“Tanner, yes?” Mako asked. But something about the way he asked . . . Avalon was confident he already knew. “The one you mentioned, Jack?”
“Yes.” Jack took his arm from around Avalon’s shoulders, then smoothed down the front of his shirt. “And now come on. We need to hunt down the prodigal son. Gotta remind him how I’ll be taking the points right out of his hand once we’re in the water.”
“Tanner’ll mop the floor with you,” Sage said. Even when she was smack talking, she could only smile.
Jack shook his head with mock seriousness. “Hate to be the one to tell you, but your brother’s getting old.” He turned toward the entryway. “Isn’t that right, Tanner?”
Tanner stood there, but his gaze wasn’t fixed on Jack. Instead, he was all about Mako. Tanner’s hands had fisted at his sides, and his shoulders bulked into a deep, heavy line of muscle. He’d gone white, as if he’d never seen a day of sun in his entire life.
“Get out of my house.” She’d never heard his voice that low or growling. “Or I’ll throw you the fuck out.”