The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(27)

It reminded him of another time when her face was colored …

Like when her fingers worked her to ecstasy last night. Eyes squeezed shut. Calling out his name.

What a sight. He was still hard thinking about it.

And what she'd said in their hotel room. It was the last thing he ever  would've expected, imagined, or dreamed about. Sex without any strings.  Was there anything better? He'd been afraid she'd get attached. That  she'd want more from him after this week. But she said that wasn't the  case. He was going to rock her fucking world in bed, get that ring back,  apologize, and then glide off into the sunset with a clear conscience.

Simple.

Reese threw his last bag, landing it in the center of the hole.

"And that's what we call an ass whooping, ladies." Tyke clucked his  tongue as he walked across the field to retrieve his thrown bags. "Three  games to none. That's gotta be tough for you to swallow."

"Not really," Kenna said, walking in his direction. Passing, she lowered her voice. "I've swallowed a lot more."

Tyke froze with one boot in front of the other. He jerked his attention to her. Say what?

She leaned in, and her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "Double or nothing?"

He never turned down a challenge. "You saw what happened here, right?  How bad we kicked your asses?" He caught her devilish expression. "What  are you up to?"

"I saw," she said. "But this time there'll be more at stake."

"Like what?" He liked the way her lips turned up, and her eyes grew heavy.

Tyke never turned down that kind of challenge. He leaned closer. "Baby,  you know once you set those terms, I'm gonna win. Every single time."

"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me then."

His hands itched to reach out and touch her. Pull her to him. Let her feel what she was doing to him.

"So what do you say?" she asked, eyes glittering. "I'm about done with  this game. Wanna head back to our room for some other games?"

He was about to throw her over his shoulder when a voice rang out.

"Hey, Big Bear!"

Tyke gritted his teeth. Fucking Calder.

Kenna pulled back, glancing away as she toyed with her silky red ponytail.

"Hey, Kenna," Luke said, catching his breath. "How's it going? Enjoying yourself so far?"

"I am," she said. "Thanks so much. It's been a nice week."

"Really?" Luke said with a doubtful smirk. "Nice? You mean to tell me you two aren't killing each other?"

"What do you want, Calder?" Tyke asked, trying to strangle the guy with his stare.

"Just stopped by to check on you," he said. "It hasn't gone unnoticed  that both of you have been missing from a lot of events." He turned to  Tyke with his bottom lip jutted out. Tyke almost punched him in it.  "You, Big Bear, missed our guy's off-shore fishing trip. Nothing but  miles of open water, fresh air, and bigeye tuna."

"You got seasick, didn't you?"

"All goddamn day," Calder said.

Kenna chuckled. "Poor thing."

"Thank you," Luke said. "See-" He turned to Bryan. "At least she cares."

Tyke grumbled.

"Since you missed the boat trip yesterday, and there just happens to be a  catamaran race this afternoon, I came over to tell you that you two are  the final entry." He glanced at his expensive watch, then started to  walk away. "Starts in fifteen minutes. Don't be late!"         

     



 

"Calder!" Tyke called after him.

He looked at Kenna, who could've had stars in her eyes for as brightly as they shined. "You wanna go, don't you?"

She nodded like a little kid on Christmas morning.

Damn it. That quick, her naughty promise of higher stakes dashed out the window.

"Fine. Let's go sailing."

 …

There were ten boats. Everyone was paired off two to a vessel. Naturally  the lovebirds were a team: Ash and Sam, Luke and Cass, even Reese and  the blonde he'd been attached to all week. Other teams included some of  Cass's and Sam's coworkers; Tyke's boss, Joseph Landry, and his wife; as  well as Estelle and Sam's grandma, Rose.

In other words, Tyke was going to use the brute strength he had over  everyone else and take them all down. With Kenna's equally competitive  spirit, it shouldn't be too difficult. Especially since he was still so  damn ramped up from her offer and her innuendos during cornhole. His  testosterone was in full force, and he was going to take advantage of  it. He wanted to show her his raw power. Wanted her to see him doing  something manly and physical. Something to prelude tonight's  festivities.

Watch me work, woman. He might even flex a few times just for the hell of it.

"Are you sure you know how to sail this thing?" Kenna settled on the  ten-foot-by-ten-foot contraption with a fifteen-foot sail sticking up  between them. "This looks really complicated."

Her lack of confidence in him was a shot right to his ego. And when that  happened, there was nothing for him to do but to work even harder to  prove her wrong.

"How hard could it be?" He'd been on other boats. Nothing without a  motor, but the concept was the same. Just keep it in the wind and hold  on tight.

The resort staff offered a crash course on how to handle the catamarans,  but Tyke declined. First, he was hungry and wanted to get his strength  up by eating something before the race. But also, he didn't need a  lesson. Lessons were for sissies. He was a man, and therefore this stuff  was instinctual.

"Get ready," he said, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side.  He gave her a sly grin. "I'm gonna remind you how good I am with my  hands."

Her gaze turned hungry as she took in his chest and abs on display. With  a lick of her pink lips, the temperature of his blood blasted to a  thousand degrees.

Why had he agreed to this race instead of dragging her back to the hotel?

He pulled on the bar attached to the sail, making it turn left and  right. There was probably a more proper name for the bar, but he didn't  have a clue what it was.

Right. He could do this. No problem.

Looking up into the cloudless sky, he did what he thought Reese would  do. Calculate the wind speed and direction. He licked his finger and  stuck it into the air.

Nothing. He didn't feel any wind at all.

"What are you doing?" Kenna asked.

He quickly lowered his finger. "Nothing."

"You have no clue what you're doing, do you?" She said it with a small smile like she already knew the answer.

Before he could soothe her worries, a short man with ebony skin wearing  an all-white resort uniform shouted. "Ladies and gentlemen, take your  mark!"

It's go time.

Tyke leaped off the catamaran and planted his bare feet into the sand,  bracing his hands onto the edge, preparing to push it as hard and as  fast as he could into the warm crystal-blue water.

"You ready for this?" Ash yelled from the boat to Tyke's left. His arms  mirrored Bryan's, bracing for a quick, efficient launch. "You two  assholes are going down!"

"Ha!" Luke laughed from the boat to Tyke's right. "Have you ever been sailing before?"

"Have you?" Tyke said.

Luke puffed his chest out. "Of course I have. Haven't you?"

Tyke opened his mouth, but Kenna spoke first from her perch on the tiny vessel.

"No. He hasn't. And he refused lessons from the hotel staff, but he  swears there should be nothing to it. So this should be interesting."

Luke and Ash bent over laughing.

Tyke sent an annoyed look to Kenna.

She gave him a self-satisfied grin and a fake-innocent shrug back. "What?"

"Stop doubting me, woman. I can do this."

"Okay," she said in a singsong voice and looked in the direction they were headed. "Show me what you've got, big man."

He almost howled and pounded his chest. He'd show her all right.

"Everyone ready?" the resort employee said. "On the count of three!"

"One … "

Tyke dug his feet into the sand for leverage.         

     



 

"Two … "

He swayed his weight to the back of his feet, preparing to transfer it forward and gain momentum.

"Three!"

With all his strength, Tyke propelled the catamaran forward, running as  hard as he could through the sand and splashing into the water. Once he  was knee deep, he leaped onto the vessel and reached for the bar  attached to the sail.

"Yeah!" Kenna screamed. "Let's go!"

The wind swept her red ponytail back like a superhero cape. The sun  kissed her bare skin, exposed from her form-fitting tank top, drawing  attention to the spattering of freckles across her shoulders and arms.  She looked like a sea goddess sent to tame him. Or a muse. Yeah, that  was a thing, wasn't it? She was his muse. Alluring. Tempting. And could  fulfill his every fantasy.

They darted out into the ocean, speeding ahead of the other boats, and Tyke couldn't help but revel in the rush of the moment.

"See," he shouted over the gust of wind flying past them. "I told you I knew what I was doing!"