The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(26)

But he wouldn't. That's not how this game worked. He would watch, and  she would obey. Only this time, he wouldn't take her again afterward  like they used to. No, they would watch each other get off, and then she  would walk out on him, like he'd walked out on her.

There it was. The ascent. It was starting to peak, so she pressed  harder, driving her fingers into herself, and moaning loudly. She'd  never been quiet during sex, and she wasn't going to start now.

"Bear," she said. "I need you so bad right now." She worked herself  faster. Damn, she wanted him after this. All of him. Inside her.

"Let me see it." Bear growled, and his eyes illuminated. His chest  heaved quick, deep breaths. The hand on his cock was thrusting as fast  as she was pumping herself.

"Do it," he said, his voice tight. "Come, Kenna."

Just as he grunted, and his hand stopped its motion, his stomach pulling  in tight, she let go. She flew over the edge, the powerful release  she'd been waiting for since he'd left finally overtaking her. Her  breath caught in her lungs. Her eyes darkened at the corners. Her  muscles stiffened and then relaxed.

It was the most satisfaction she'd had in years. And he hadn't even touched her.



She'd just finished drying her hair and applying a quick coat of mascara  when Bryan appeared in the bathroom doorway. This time she was fully  clothed.

They'd been silent when they went to bed, both facing opposite  directions, neither broaching the subject of what they'd done. Which was  fine by her. She didn't need his words. Not anymore. So she'd woken up,  showered, and was getting herself ready for the day. Hopefully with the  busy schedule ahead of them, she could stay occupied.

Bryan leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, looking at her through the mirror. "I feel like I should apologize."

"For what?"

"Last night."

"Don't," she said. "That was the best release I've had in-"

"Not that. For what happened on the balcony."

"Oh," she said, sobering immediately. "No biggie. It's over. I got what I wanted, so … " She shrugged.

"Did you?" His expression turned probing.

"Yeah." She'd gotten off. That's what she'd needed at that moment.

He let out a sigh. "Kenna, we're never going to be like we were. We can't."

She placed the mascara wand on the counter and turned to face him. "What does that mean?"

Bear ran a hand over the crown of his long hair, tucking a few stray  strands behind his ear. "There's stuff you don't understand. I'm not the  same guy I was. I can't …  It's not possible for me to … " He blew out a  breath and shook his head. "Look, it's just best if we get through the  rest of this week without any expectations, okay?"

Expectations? Of what?

She didn't have any expectations after he rejected her so easily last  night. Sure, they'd gotten off in front of each other, but it wasn't  like he'd been the one to finish her off.

She shrugged. "Fine with me."

He blinked a few times in rapid succession. "It is?"

She picked up the wand and turned back to the mirror, applying a final coat of mascara to her top lashes. "Yep. Totally fine."         

     



 

"Oh." He rocked back on his heels and placed his hands into his shorts  pockets. "I just thought the other night with the dance … when I walked  away … and, you know, out on the balcony … and then you told me you wanted  me while you got yourself off …  I just figured you'd think … well, maybe  you'd assume, you know, the way you reacted it was like you wanted more  from me."

She had. Or at least thought she had.

But if she concentrated on what mattered most-her mother's ring-then she  wouldn't have any more stupid fantasies about the two of them giving it  another go. The only thing from her past she cared to retrieve was that  sapphire.

"Nope," she said. "All good."

And for the first time in a long while, she meant it. All was good. The  only thing that would make it better was if she could persuade Bear to  offer his services a few more times before this week was over. It would  be nice to store up her reserve while she could before those extra  lonely nights at home.

Ah, what the hell.

"In fact … " She tucked her makeup away and zipped the bag closed. "I have a proposition for you."

His face went guarded. "And that is?"

"No expectations."

He blinked a few times, his posture rigid. "I don't understand."

"Since we can't be together-or be like we used to, as you put it-but it  appears we both have pent-up aggression we need to release, it would  only make sense for us to get some of it out of our systems."

More blinking and rigidness, but a spark of interest ignited in his  gaze. "I'm confused. You can't be saying what I think you are."

She blew out a breath. Men. "I'm offering for us to get some of this frustration out. You are frustrated, aren't you?"

"More than I've ever been in my life," he said without hesitation.

"Do you want to do something about it?" she asked. "With me?"

"Is that a trick question?" He took a quick step toward her with his hands out.

She stayed him with a lifted finger. When he froze, she said, "Like you  said, no expectations. This doesn't mean anything. You don't want me  long term any more than I want you. This is nothing but scratching an  itch. Right?"

"Right," he agreed with a greedy edge to his voice. "The only thing  it'll mean is you'll be hoarse and you'll have trouble walking after."

She almost laughed at his overly confident comment. "Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you."

"So, are we good?" he asked. "We gonna do this?"

She started nodding. "We are."

He was on the move in an instant.

"But," she said, making him stop again. She glanced down at her watch.  "Too bad for us, we have another wedding event in ten minutes."

Bryan hissed out a low curse. "And Reese sent me the address of the  second suspect. The hotel worker. He and I are checking out the place  tonight."

That comment momentarily pulled her attention away from one need and put  a spotlight on the other. "Guess we'll have to put sex on hold for  now." She didn't have to work to sound disappointed. She'd been looking  forward to getting off again.

Kenna moved forward to exit the bathroom. "Hurry up so we can get down to the beach for the next activity."

As she brushed past him, he clasped her arm and lowered his voice. "The  only reason we're leaving this room is because I don't want to hurt  Sam's feelings for missing another bullshit wedding game. But make no  mistake, Kenna, tonight you're mine."

With that, he entered the bathroom and didn't close the door as the water turned on.

Her blood heated, thinking about Bear in the steamy shower, water  running down his tall body, and she nearly jumped in with him. She  concentrated harder than normal to get the strap through the buckle of  her sandals and reminded herself over and over that marching into the  bathroom right now would result in them missing another event Sam  scheduled for them. So Kenna's need for release would have to be  postponed. For now.

Which led her to her next priority. Her sapphire ring.

As soon as she heard the shower door open, Kenna grabbed his phone and  found the text message from Reese. Silly man didn't even clear it from  his home screen.

1717 Sea Side Blvd. He needs to be at work at 7.

Guess where she was going tonight?





Chapter Thirteen


Cornhole. What did throwing a teeny tiny bag that felt like it weighed  less than a penny at a wooden square with holes have to do with corn?         

     



 

Whatever happened to the good ol' days of horseshoes?

Tyke looked up at the crystal-blue sky through his shades and squinted  against the bright sun. It was another scorcher today. Just in a  T-shirt, camo shorts, and boots he was sweating. And it's not like he  was doing any physical activity. He was standing next to Reese, tossing  the little bags underhand. The only threat he faced was twenty-degree  burns from standing in the UV rays too long.

Currently his team was winning, which wasn't a shock since Reese was a  goddamn master at this kind of shit. He calculated wind speed, velocity  of his beanbags, and distance he had to throw them. Did some math whiz  stuff in his computer brain and hit the target dead on ever since.

Too bad for Kenna, she was paired with Estelle, who seemed more  concerned with the fourth mimosa the waiter was late bringing her. Kenna  was no better. She chucked the bags like they were Frisbees and her  target was more than three hundred yards away, rather than just twenty  feet.

All the better for him. He loved watching her. Each time her beanbag  went sailing over the board, she scrunched up her face, shaded her eyes  with her hand like the sun was to blame, and stomped her foot. Her  cheeks reddened to the hue of ripe tomatoes.