A Wicked Game(19)

Tori got off the bike. She gasped at the ocean view in front of her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He took the helmet from her and placed it on the bike.

“It is. How did you find this place?” Tori removed her boots and rolled up her jeans.

“My dad.” Jack grew silent for a moment. “He used to bring me here when I was a kid. He called it our thinking spot.” He slipped off his boots.

Tori stepped on the still-warm sand and curled her toes. “Do you come here often?”

He grabbed her hand and led her the short distance to the shore. “Not too often, but I do whenever I can.”

“What do you do for fun, Jack?” She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know I can top your kind of fun.”

“Oh, yeah? Come on, what do you do for fun?”

“Not pole dancing, for starters,” he teased, pulling her to him and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Tori pushed him but Jack tightened his hold on her. “You didn’t just go there.”

“I may just have to go to therapy to get it out of my head, and send you the bill for the trauma you’ve caused me,” he said.

“I can’t believe you.” She let out a soft laugh. “You know, on second thought, perhaps it is a good idea for you to see a therapist. I’d love to see how they would react at hearing you talk about your wicked ways, let alone your custom fire pole.”

He laughed, fastening his hold on her. He placed a kiss on top of her head. “How was your week?”

Pulling away from him, she sat on the sand. “It sucked. I barely even had time to eat or sleep.” The fact that she hadn’t been able to concentrate as she should’ve because she’d been too busy day dreaming of him wasn’t something she cared to share with him. “How was yours?”

He sat next to her, staring at the waves crashing on the shore. “Hell. Shit hit the fan with a vendor and now I have to play a political game I’m not looking forward to.”

“It’s why they pay you the big bucks, no?” she said.

“For what I have to deal with sometimes, I don’t think the big bucks are worth the stress.” Jack put his hands behind him and turned to look at her.

“What?” she asked in a low voice. The intensity of his hot gaze on her made the air rush out of her body.

He touched her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “What?” A corner of his mouth turned into a lopsided smile.

She grabbed his hand and curled her fingers on his wrist, and he leaned forward and kissed her. Tori parted her lips, welcoming the warmth of his. His kiss didn’t demand anything, which made her want more.

What is wrong with me? She wasn’t supposed to want more—or anything—from him, yet she couldn’t will herself to move away. No. Instead, she cupped his face, sucking gently at his upper lip.

Jack pushed her back on the sand, laying her down. His sweet kiss was so powerful it made her body ache with desire. Had he missed her? The passion in his kiss told her he had. Hope filled her chest. Tori wished circumstances were different, because she could love this man.

Pushing the thought aside, she laced her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to her as if he wasn’t already touching her, sinking deeper in the sand. Getting the sand out of her hair would be a nightmare, but so worth the inconvenience for a kiss like his.

He drew her tongue in the hotness of his mouth; the heat from his body swept the length of hers. If he continued kissing her this way, she’d end up having sex on the beach for dinner. She didn’t mind, not when the entrée was Jack.

She’d been too deep in the emotions running through her, and she was almost swept away—literally—by the cold current crashing over their entwined legs, knocking her out of her daze.

“Fuck.” Jack sprang to his feet, hauling her with him.

Damn. Not only did she have sand in her hair, now her jeans were wet too. What a way to break the spell of the moment. Stupid Pacific Ocean and its arctic stream.

Jack glanced at her, his mouth curved into what looked like a suppressed smile. “Let me take you home,” he said.

Tori headed for his bike. “Don’t try too hard not to laugh at me, but if you do, I hope you choke on it,” she said over her shoulder, smiling.

The cool ocean breeze carried his laugh, enveloping her in its warmth.

She slipped on her boots and secured her helmet, watching him approach. She sighed. Dammit. Why does he have to look irresistible? He’d never been bad looking. Gosh no. He’d always been just quite the opposite. Tori could regret her ill-doings all she wanted, but nothing would ever take back or fix what she’d done. She’d regret it forever.