Instant Gratification

Chapter 13

Stone’s eyes were full of mischief and a wicked intent, both of which had the same effect on Emma’s insides as his bad boy truck. “Stone. You can’t just-”

He could, and did.

He toed off his socks.

“Yeah, now see-”

Ignoring her stammering, he unbuttoned his Levi’s, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d seen him without a shirt before. On her examination table up close and personal, though of course this time he was void of all the dirt and blood. He still had some scrapes and bruises, which in no way marred the utter perfection of his broad shoulders, chest, and six-pack abs that she suddenly and inexplicably, desperately wanted to lap up like she’d lapped up the last of the chocolate.

His jeans were low-slung and loose enough that they pulled away from him, leaving a tantalizing gap that a woman could stick her entire hand down and-

“Your turn,” he said, pausing from his stripping down.

“I am not going skinny dipping with you.”

“Now here’s one thing I don’t get about women. They always make blanket statements like that, and then change their mind. Wouldn’t it be easier to say nothing at all?”

He wasn’t wearing a belt, so when he finished unbuttoning his jeans, they sank even lower, nearly to indecent levels, and she stared at what he was slowly revealing. “I don’t make blanket statements as a rule, and I always mean what I say.”

“See?” He smiled. “Another blanket statement.”

“I do mean what I say. Look, it’s…late. I need to go back.”

“It’s seven thirty.”

“Almost my bedtime.”

“You said you were hot,” he pointed out reasonably.

Yes. Yes she was hot. Holy smokes…

He added one of those panty-melting smiles. Oh God, she was in trouble.

“I’m simply offering you the solution to your problem,” he said.

“Yes,” she managed. “While creating a whole new one.”

“Which would be?” he asked innocently.

Ha! “You. Naked.”

He shoved off his jeans and kicked them aside, leaving him in a pair of dark blue knit boxers that clung to his tough thighs and lean hips. When she managed to lift her gaze to meet his, she found his eyes both hot and amused.

If she thought she’d been sweating before…

Then, without a word, he turned from her, stepped a few feet into the lake water and dove in.

Vanishing beneath the smooth surface with hardly a splash.

A few drops hit her and they were so deliciously, deliriously cool, she actually moaned. Goddammit.

He surfaced facing her, just his perfect chest, shoulders, and head popping out of the water. He shook his head, and water went flying. He looked at her, hair crazy, face streaming water, smile so contagious she had to work to keep solemn. “Stone-”

“You lost.”

“Yes, but-”

Still smiling sweetly, he pushed his hand through the water, and splashed her.

Right in the face.

“Hey!”

He arched a brow.

She let out a breath, torn between indignation and utter bliss-because God, the water felt amazing. “What if I’d straightened my hair and didn’t want it wet? What if I was wearing makeup?”

“Did you? Are you?”

“No. But still-”

He splashed her again, and that was it. He was going down. She yanked off her shirt and tossed it to the ground while she kicked off her shoes at the same time. “You are so going to get it.”

“Promises, promises.”

Leaving her plain black cotton bra in place, she shoved down her trousers. Her equally plain cotton bikini panties weren’t any prettier than the bra, but she didn’t happen to care much about lingerie. She cared about comfort. Right now she was uncomfortably hot and uncomfortably worked up. She stalked toward the water, ready to rumble.

His gaze had all but glued itself to her body. His mouth had fallen open a little, as if he needed it that way just to breathe. His eyes were eating her up, caressing her body as if she was the best thing he’d ever seen, and if she hadn’t been so overheated, with adrenaline pumping through her instead of blood, she might have been flattered. “Prepare to die.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. At the look on her face, he backed up, further into the water.

“Get over here and take your medicine like a man.” She stood at the edge and let the water lap at her feet. Oh, God, it was so cold. She kicked it and splashed him, but it wasn’t enough.

So she dove in. Not nearly as gracefully as he had, but she hadn’t been in the water much since high school, where she’d been on the swim team. It came right back to her, and as the gloriously cold water closed over her head, she pushed down, swimming underwater up to a pair of long, masculine, still scraped up legs. Her plan was to swim past him, out as far as she could get, hopefully ridding herself of as much of her restless energy as possible, and only when she could be sure to keep in control, would she turn back.

She got maybe a stroke past him when she felt a big, warm hand close around her ankle. She kicked, but he was far stronger than she, and pulled her back against him.

She fought, but he merely wrapped two long, hard arms around her and lifted her to the surface for air.

The air was shimmering hot, the water icy cold, his body a perfect mix of hard sinew and warm skin. A paradox, because her instincts were at odds.

Fight him.

Hold onto him.

Kiss him.

Splash him.

God. She wanted to do all of it, and all that heated, strong, sleek flesh was pressed up against hers. In fact, staring into his stark green eyes, eyes that didn’t attempt to hide a thing from her, she was having a hard time remembering that she was supposed to be fighting him at all, or why she even wanted to.

Then he smiled; a soft, sweet, sexy smile, and she was lost. She smiled back, and let her fingers play in his hair. Just for a minute, she told herself. Then he dipped his head close to hers, kissing her cheek, letting his mouth skim the edge of her jaw, and she sighed in pleasure, closing her eyes, melting into him, all resistance gone, and-

And he dunked her.

Dunked.

Her.

Sputtering and wriggling, she nearly got away but once again he caught her, slowly tugging her back like a fish on a line. As much as she tried to get away, she was held tight, her back to his chest, her butt to his crotch, which she only realized because the more she fought, the harder he got. “You should know,” she said through her teeth. “I’m pretty good at this.”

“Swimming?”

“Kicking ass.” But though she struggled and fought, she couldn’t get free. “Let me go!”

“Say the magic word.”

“Let me go or you’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”

With a low chuckle, he put his hand on the top of her head and pushed, dunking her again.

His mistake.

Because beneath the water, she whirled to face him, then sank even lower, where she grabbed his ankles and lifted, tumbling him backwards under the water. Without waiting to see how he took that, she whipped around and started swimming away, laughing in sheer triumph. She got two strokes this time before she was once again dragged back against his hard, wet body.

He turned her to face him, but she wasn’t falling for those sweet, sexy eyes again. Oh, no. She learned from her mistakes, and she twisted free, sinking back down and around him. Opening her eyes, she placed her hands on the backs of his knees and pushed.

When his legs obligingly collapsed, she laughed beneath the water and nearly drowned herself. She managed to swim away, and she kept at it, going as hard and fast as she could while laughing out loud.

He caught her, disturbingly easily, so easily in fact that she had to wonder if she’d meant him to. Hands on her waist, he yanked her under with him. They wrestled beneath the surface, and though she had little wrestling experience and he apparently had plenty, she did have one advantage. When he pulled her up against him and held her in so that her arms were completely ineffective, she brought her knee slowly up between his, stopping just short of her mark.

He went instantly still. His eyes met hers.

She arched a brow.

“Uncle,” he cracked, and loosened his arms enough that she could drop down through.

But she hadn’t thought it all the way through, because she felt every inch of his chest and belly and thighs, every single hard, perfect inch, and here she was, free to swim away, and she didn’t want to.

“You think you’re all that,” he said, his mouth to hers, his voice low and husky and full of laughter as he completely supported her.

“I am all that.”

He laughed again, and looked into her eyes.

And she had one thought. Send a life vest, I’m going down. The last of the sun beat down on them as the water lapped at their entangled bodies. His arms were hard around her, her breasts mashed up against his bare chest, her belly plastered to his.

He was still hard, and she could feel him, pressing up against the soft core of her. She looked into his face. The cut over his eye was still healing, but that wasn’t what made her breathless. Her legs bumped into his, and she actually physically had to fight the urge to wrap them around his waist, further opening herself to him.

As if he could read her thoughts, his smiled faded. His eyes flamed.

She flamed too, from the inside out, and when he leaned in close she had to bite back a moan.

“You feel…amazing,” he whispered huskily, and without her permission, her hands glided up his sleek, strong back, over those amazingly reassuringly wide shoulders, to sink into his wet hair. “Same goes,” she whispered back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Then he slowly lowered his mouth and finally, oh God, finally kissed her.

She met him halfway, loving the feel of his warm hands on her body in the cool water, gliding everywhere, her waist, her back, her breasts, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

She couldn’t get enough either, responding the same way, running her hands all over him, opening her mouth for his tongue, letting her legs do as they’d wanted and wrap around him so that he could nestle his erection against her core. And rock.

God. God, it felt so good she could actually feel her insides quiver. Her toes curled, and-

He tore his mouth from her. She gasped in denial, and eyes closed, body humming, she tried to bring him back to her, even as she heard him swear roughly against her cheek.

Then came TJ’s voice. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

TJ stood on the shore next to his Yamaha dirt bike, hands on his hips, looking pissed off.

Well, hell, Stone thought. The guy had always had some pretty shitaceous timing, but this topped the cake. Stone tightened his arms around a squirming Emma and lowered the both of them further down into the water so that it lapped against their chins. Not that he wanted to cover the gorgeous, wet, mouthwatering body of the very hot woman in his arms, but she was for his viewing pleasure only.

He intended to view. Then touch.

Then taste.

And he thought, given how she’d watched him strip, how her eyes had eaten him up in the water, how she’d been pressed up against him, panting for breath when he’d touched her, that maybe she’d had similar plans for him. Thanks TJ.

Emma dropped her head to his shoulder. “I’m going to kill you,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Gorgeous, wet, hot, and furious, and he sighed. How he’d not even heard TJ’s approach or the bike’s motor, he had no idea. “What are you doing here?” he asked his brother.

“Your radio called me with your distress call.”

“What?”

“Oh, and when you’re alive? Answer your goddamn radio!”

Still holding Emma, a little sidetracked by the way her breasts were pressed against his chest, nipples hard, Stone shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The radio? The thing we use to communicate? If you’re not dead or dying, you answer it after you send a distress call.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“I can see that, but you’ve been sending out a distress call to me for the past twenty minutes. I raced my ass up here to save yours.”

Emma, apparently having enough of this, jerked free of Stone and straightened. When she realized they stood in only waist deep waters and that she was in nothing but her bra and panties, she squeaked, slipping back down against him, sending blasphemous, black looks his way.

Yeah, he probably deserved that. But he hadn’t expected to be interrupted, and by his own brother, no less. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told TJ, playing a silent tug-of-war with Emma beneath the water. He had no idea where she thought she was going, but the only place to go to was straight toward his brother, who he intended to get rid of so Emma could try to kick his ass in private. “I’m nowhere near the radio, as you can see.”

“It was going off like mad.” TJ pulled his radio from his pocket. “It’s still going off.”

Huh? In the silence that followed Stone could hear it, the beep-beep-beeping of the receiver.

TJ turned to their discarded clothes. Specifically Emma’s. He nudged aside her shirt, and then her shoes, both of which had been dropped…

On top of the radio.

Specifically the talk button.

The radio stopped beeping.

Emma looked up at Stone, horrified. “I did that?”

“Mystery solved,” TJ said. “I can’t believe you were fucking around on duty. You wrote the book on protocol for us, remember? You made Cam and I swear not to-”

“Excuse me,” Emma said stiffly. Both men looked at her. “For the record, he wasn’t ‘fucking around’. Not literally anyway,” she muttered, and stormed out of the water, a glorious, furious goddess in her underwear.

TJ shot Stone a holy-shit look.

In return, Stone shot him a get-the-hell-out-of-here look, which he knew damn well TJ received and understood, and yet the dumbass just stood there.

With a sigh, Stone followed Emma out of the water. “So you drove all the way up here to chew my ass out?”

“I drove all the way up here because I thought you’d fallen off a cliff. I thought you needed my help.”

“I don’t fall off cliffs.”

TJ gave him a droll look.

“Okay, one time!” Jesus. “And that wasn’t even my fault. Look, we’re both fine, as you can see for yourself.” Stone lifted his hands to prove it. “Now go away.” He wanted to pull Emma back up against him-

She stared at him in disbelief, her fiery temperament matching her fiery hair shining in the sun. “It’s our fault he’s here!”

“Yes, but now he’s leaving.”

TJ, not leaving, smiled, and when she stomped her way toward her clothes with her head held high, he picked up Stone’s shirt, and held it out to her.

“Thank you,” she said loftily, snatching the shirt and pulling it on over the body Stone had been dreaming about for weeks. She wrapped her arms around herself and sent Stone another glacial stare.

With a sigh, Stone glanced at TJ. “Thanks, man.”

Emma picked up her pants, realized both men were looking at her, and snapped, “Turn your backs!”

TJ obligingly closed his eyes.

She looked at Stone, who looked right back. “Close ’em.”

With a sigh, he did, then peeked. She was gathering up all the clothes including his, shoving them into the backpack, and then she got on her bike.

With his stuff.

“Uh,” he said, lifting a hand toward her. “Maybe we could-”

She put on her helmet and rode off.

TJ looked at Stone in his wet underwear and grinned. “Going to be a fun ride back.” He patted Stone’s shoulder, and whistling now, took off as well.