Bared Read online

“What?”

  “Sex,” she said. “You’re thinking about sex, and I made you think about it. That’s the power. I mean I did that to you. I made you lose your concentration. You know what else?”

  He was afraid to know, truly he was. But he stepped away from the camera and walked around the edge of the pool so he could see her face more clearly. “What?”

  Her slight smile turned to a full-fledged grin. “I like it.”

  His body tightened even more. “You like that you’re driving me right off the edge of control?”

  “Yes.” She dipped her fingers in the water and played a little. Splashed him. “But to be honest, I’m also embarrassed.”

  “Are you kidding?” He moved back behind his camera. He was safer there. “Why?”

  “Because of the view you’ve got.” She wiggled, just a little. “I know the bathing suit is riding up, and with the angle you’re at, I’m wondering what you can see.”

  “What I can see…” He took a good long look at her long legs, at the juncture of her thighs, how the black crocheted bottoms outlined her so perfectly. Then she squirmed slightly, and he nearly moaned at the sight. “I can see that you have the most heart-stopping legs on the planet. Your slim back is arched slightly, and the low-riding bikini exposes your butt enough that I can see your adorable twin dimples just above the top of the material.”

  “I just had another jumbling emotion,” she said softly.

  “Really? Tell me.”

  “This is…turning me on,” she whispered.

  She said the words in a way that made them seem like a conspirator’s secret, and his knees went shaky. “That’s reaction, not emotion. And it’s not very specific, not as far as your writing goes.” He had no idea why he was doing this, teasing them both into a fiery lather, but he couldn’t stop now. “Be specific, Emma.”

  Her eyes were still shut, and he clicked away as she searched for the words or courage to tell him. “My skin feels too tight,” she finally said.

  “Good.” He knew the feeling. He took his camera off the tripod and moved back to the side of the pool where he could get a better view of her face tipped toward the sun, eyes closed, the glow of excitement on her cheeks. “More.”

  “My heart is pounding like I just ran a marathon.”

  He pulled his face away from the lens, stared at her. Suddenly, he couldn’t do it any longer, he couldn’t treat her as a model. He’d never talked to a model like this.

  He wanted to treat her as a woman.

  For the first time in his career, he set the camera down in the middle of a shoot. He stepped onto the first step of the shallow end of the pool, letting his feet soak up the cool water in hopes it might cool off his overheated engines.

  “What else?” he asked hoarsely.

  “My nipples…they’re hard and throbbing.”

  He understood hard and throbbing.

  She opened her eyes “You’re…done?”

  “I’m done. Emma, this isn’t the usual photo shoot.” He let out a long, shuddering breath. “I’ve never made it personal before, but this feels pretty personal.”

  “What makes it different?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Maybe it’s because it’s your last job. Or…”

  “Or?”

  “Maybe you were thinking you could get something out of it.”

  “No. God, no.” He watched her shoulders relax marginally at his emphatic answer. “It’s you.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then dumped herself into the water. She swam toward him, beneath the water, breaking the surface just in front of him. Eyes never leaving his, she started up the steps, the water sluicing off her as her body was revealed, inch by glorious wet inch.

  Drawn to her as if they were bound together, he took the next step down, meeting her halfway, and then suddenly they were lunging at each other, hands grappling for purchase, mouths mating, bodies straining while the water splashed around them.

  He never even felt the water soaking into his shorts, nor the sun beating down on his back. All he felt was her body coming alive beneath his hands.

  His certainly did.

  Research, my ass, he thought, one hand skimming up her slim spine, the other cupping her butt in his hand, squeezing just a little, loving the feel of her hot skin and the cool water running down it. She felt so good against him, he would have liked to keep her there for days, until he had lapped her up from head to toe and felt sated.

  More than anything, he wanted to have the time to do that, right here, right now.

  As for the kiss, it was their first real one. He didn’t count Kauai or the desert. Those had been nice, sweet even, but each nothing more than a quick contact, a tease, a moment of playfulness.

  Not this kiss.

  This kiss stabbed him deep in the belly with its sharp, needy claws, and had nothing to do with quick or playful. This kiss was the result of weeks of hunger and desire. And though he had never been told of her past, of her sexual experiences, when he opened his mouth and slid his tongue in to dance with hers, he knew.

  When she gripped him tighter and let out a soft gasp, he knew.

  This wasn’t just two people scratching an itch, this wasn’t research, or a job, no matter what they claimed.

  This was just two people, a man and a woman, looking for that elusive thing only a few lucky bastards ever really found.

  Looking to be loved.

  11

  WHEN THEY BROKE APART FOR AIR, Emma gulped in a few breaths and stared at him. She could hear him panting, too, could see him staring at her, as if he wasn’t sure how she’d gotten into his arms.

  During the past crazy few minutes, she hadn’t even noticed, but they’d stumbled down yet another step and now stood thigh deep in his pool, skin to skin except for his drenched shorts and her skimpy bikini. It was difficult to look at him knowing that the kiss wasn’t the end to an incredibly erotic experience, but just the beginning.

  Her body was shaking, close to the sort of pleasure she usually only dreamed about. She had a hard time understanding how in the past she’d had to strive so hard to climax, and yet all he’d done was kiss her and she was on the edge.

  “Rafe—”

  He lowered his head and kissed her again, a slow, deep, wet kiss, before slowly pulling back. “Stop me, Emma. Stop me now.”

  No. No way. She took in the tic in his rigidly held jaw, the pulse at his temple, the way his fingers dug into her. He wanted her. He wanted her more than she could remember being wanted. No way was she going to stop him now. She slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged, trying to bring his mouth back to hers. At the same time, she practically crawled up his body, wrapping one leg around his hip, opening herself up so that she could slide against him.

  This wrenched a rough groan from his throat, but he held her off, moving his hands to her hips. “Emma, if I kiss you again, we aren’t going to stop there. If I kiss you again, I want you naked, beneath me, gasping my name as you come.”

  Her knees liquefied. “How do you know I’ll…come?”

  “Oh, baby, you’ll come.”

  That cocky statement should have irritated the hell out of her; instead she ached for him to prove it. So she pulled him in for another kiss, fisting her hands in his hair to hold his head, but he didn’t try to get away. One hand moved back to her bottom, the other moved to the string ties of her bikini at the back of her neck. He tugged at the knot until she felt the bow give.

  He drew back slightly so that the cups of her top loosened, threatening to expose her breasts, but not quite. He picked up the very end of one string and dragged it along her collarbone, nudging the material away from her skin as he skimmed the string down the line of her cleavage. Then both his hands drew the cups down, spilling her free, exposing her to the opposing sensations of the cool water dripping from her hair and the warm spring day.

  His gaze was locked on hers, and the heat and hunger there made her