Crossing the Line (8 page)

But hate the beach? Never. Not when he got to watch Hanna skipping her way toward the water. Pure joy lit her face when she reached the band of dark, wet sand. That was all the motivation he needed to stop thinking about the shitty past and bolt after her. Loop his arms around her waist and swing her round and round, until her giddy shrieks drew the attention of everyone on the beach.

“Close your eyes,” he said as he returned her to the ground. To hell with finding a private area farther along the shoreline. He pulled the box from his pocket and popped the lid open. “Open them.”

She zeroed in on the ring immediately. The soft gasp that followed would’ve been enough, but the smile that went with it made him feel about ten feet tall.

“It’s beautiful,” her eyes lifted to meet his, “I didn’t say anything back there—how did you know?”

“Could’ve been the fact that your eyes were glued to it the entire time we stood in front of that window.”

“Were not,” she said with a giggle.

Best sound ever. “Then it must be the other reason.”

“Oh?” She snuggled closer, her hands running over his arms, chest and hair, her eyes never straying from his face. As if they were the only people on the beach. On earth. “And what’s the other reason?”

He removed the ring from its small velvet case, lifted her right hand and slid the band down her finger. “I know
you
. What you like, what you want. And I’m gonna spend the rest of my life giving you those things.”

“Like this weekend.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, pulled her lips between her teeth. Cast her eyes down.

He knew those signals. Probably better than she knew them. “Hanna…” He tipped her chin up. Shit, her eyes were all glassy. “I’m fucking this up—you’re not supposed to be crying right now.”

“Sorry.”

“Not supposed to be apologizing either. Fuck.” If he were better with words, like her, like everyone else in her life, they’d be doing the tongue tango right now, not having a goddamn impromptu therapy session. “If I could give you what you really want, I would.”

“Derrick—”

He shook his head to stop her. “And if the day comes that what we have isn’t enough for you, I’ll let you go.”

“Derrick, please don’t—”

This time, he silenced her with a kiss. A reminder that letting her go was the last thing he’d ever want to do. “As long as you want me, I’m here. With you. Nothing and nobody will ever change how much I love you or what we have, I promise. Remember that every time you look at this ring on your finger.”

She cupped his face, her fingers playing over his beard in that way of hers that’d convinced him long ago never to shave it off. “I don’t need a ring to remind me of that.”

“So I should take it back?”

She curled her fingers under protectively. Crushed her hand between their bodies. “Not a chance, mister. It’s staying on. Forever.”

“Forever works for me, Mrs. Sutter.”

* * * * *

Jeremy followed the waiter to a booth at the rear of the resort’s intimate dining room. “Just some ice water,” he said. “My friends will be here in a few minutes.”

Friends.
Kind of an understatement this weekend. But that’s what they were, both of them. Derrick since they were eight years old, Hanna for the last decade. Hard to believe ten years had passed since that night he and Derrick danced with her at the bar. He’d been physically attracted to her ever since, though it’d waned while Viv was part of his life.

Then Viv had called it quits. Derrick and Hanna had both been there for him. Derrick had listened to him vent, slapped him on the back and said, “Fuck her, she doesn’t know what she’s giving up.” Hanna had offered a female perspective and a soft hand to hold. She’d shared Derrick’s sentiment about Viv, minus the cursing. Jeremy appreciated his best friend’s support, no question, but the words had sounded a lot better coming from Hanna’s lips. And as the pain of the divorce lifted, that longstanding attraction had roared back to the surface.

He froze with his glass halfway to his mouth. This afternoon at the pool, then thinking about Hanna for the past couple hours
while he’d pretended to be working on the proposal for his upcoming project, had messed with his neatly organized feelings. It had also redirected most of his blood to his cock. The sight of her standing in the entryway to the resort’s intimate dining room finished that job.

A fire-engine-red dress hugged her exquisitely feminine body. Mile-high heels made her legs look sexier than ever. Her shiny, reddish-brown hair was pulled back, showing off her kissable neck. One of the many parts he was allowed to kiss this weekend. He sure as hell planned to take advantage of the opportunity, even though he’d tried to talk Derrick out of the idea initially. Yeah, not as wholeheartedly as he could or should have, but he had tried. Now that he’d had a taste of Hanna, now that he knew exactly what was under that dress and how naturally she’d responded to him…damn. Going back to being her
friend
on Monday was going to be hell.

Derrick grinned at him while sliding an arm around his wife’s waist. Possessive and protective of her, always. Never enough to make him an asshole, but not leaving the world with any doubt Hanna was
his
woman, either. Jeremy didn’t blame the guy one bit.

Christ. Time he focused strictly on the physical. A couple hours from now, this gorgeous woman would be sucking him off—probably more than once before the night ended. He’d work on rewiring his brain after checking out tomorrow. Tonight he was going to enjoy Hanna to the fullest extent of the rules.

“Hey, you two.” He stood when they reached the table, pulling his chair aside so Hanna could slide onto the curved bench of their private, corner booth. She watched, wide-eyed, as he took the spot beside her, rather than resume his former single seat. Her eyes went wider still when he stretched his arm over the back of the bench with his hand not-so-subtly brushing her shoulder. “Have a good time shopping?”

Hanna’s mouth opened, but all that came out was, “Um…”

Derrick chuckled and dropped into the chair immediately to her left—the seat Jeremy had vacated. “We had a great afternoon. Took a walk along the main drag, bought my beautiful wife a couple presents, fucked her on the beach in front of a few dozen people.”

“You did not.” She leaned forward to give Derrick a playful push on the shoulder, then fell back into position close to Jeremy. Very close. “He didn’t. You believe me, not him, right?”

“Of course.”

Derrick snorted. “Suck up.”

“Smart,” he said, and Derrick snorted a second time. Jeremy trailed his fingers along Hanna’s shoulder. Something electric sparked between them—he felt it all the way to his knees, saw it in the depths of her golden-brown eyes. “But I’m not above sucking up. Whatever the lady wants, she gets.”

“Can every weekend be my birthday?” The bubbly tone of voice suggested her question was innocently rhetorical.

The idea of this arrangement becoming a recurring thing, though… That’d be a dangerous proposition. One he wouldn’t turn down if the opportunity presented itself.

He twirled a loose strand of her long hair around his finger. He didn’t tug, yet she gravitated closer. Destroying him, she was, and they hadn’t even ordered dinner yet. He smiled at her while keeping Derrick in his peripheral vision. Any sign that he’d crossed a line and he’d back off. If he saw the sign. Her soft skin and the subtle scent of her shampoo were already proving to be one hell of a distraction. Not to mention the lack of blood flowing to his brain.

“Show Jer what you got.”

“Okay.” She practically bounced on the spot. She leaned forward and turned, her fine-boned fingers smoothing over that gorgeous hair he planned to wrap around his fist later. “First he surprised me with this beautiful barrette.”

“Very pretty.”

“Isn’t it?” she asked, resuming her position under his arm. She lifted her right hand, wiggling the fingers in front of his face. “And when we got down to the beach, he gave me this ring.” A soft sigh slipped from her lips. “I told him not to spend more money on me—this weekend is expensive enough—but it’s so…perfect.”

“Derrick has good taste.”

His buddy nodded. In thanks, sure, but more likely in acknowledgement. He’d know Jeremy’s comment had nothing to do with his choice of gifts and everything to do with the woman he’d chosen. That they’d both chosen. Damn coin toss.

Derrick tracked Jeremy’s fingers as they moved over Hanna’s skin. His cool, blue eyes lifted, met Jeremy’s and locked. Reading his mind, probably, or as close to it as truly possible. Twenty-plus years of brother-like friendship had honed that skill. Instead of reaching across the table and slugging him, Derrick nodded again, then his full attention returned to the beautiful woman between them. Surreal. All of it.

Jeremy laughed—a bit too loudly for the small room with its ten-or-so tables and handful of guests. Hanna smiled, albeit in a startled kind of way, and Derrick’s blond eyebrows rose. Might as well share his thoughts, they’d be sharing a lot more than words later.

“I was thinking about our pact from way back—that we’d never let a woman come between us. We broke that deal today, D, literally.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.” Derrick leaned forward, one arm on the table and one beneath. A couple seconds later, Hanna’s breath hitched. “And we’re gonna break it again. Many, many times.”

* * * * *

“Can I interest you in dessert, coffee, tea…?” A standard part of any waiter’s job, but this guy had been extra attentive throughout their meal. Not surprising, given the exclusivity of the resort—and the picture the three of them undoubtedly made.

Side-by-side in close proximity, she and Jeremy must have looked like a couple. However, Derrick had moved his chair tight to the left side of the bench, and his arm lay on the table, his hand curled atop hers. Plus, a person would have to be blind to miss the way he looked at her. And they wore wedding bands, whereas Jeremy did not. Hanna bet the waiter had been trying to figure out the dynamic all evening.

“The choice is yours, birthday girl. Interested in some dessert?” Such innocent words from Jeremy. His hand beneath the table, presently occupied with making lazy circles over her clit—not so innocent.

She needed out of this restaurant. Immediately. “Just the check.” Emboldened by Derrick’s gruff chuckle, she added, “We’ll have dessert back in the room.”

“I’ll take the bill here,” Jeremy said, dismissing the waiter with a curt nod.

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled before turning away. He had to know something was going on under the table. That many somethings had been going on under there throughout the meal.

Derrick and Jeremy had spent the last hour making her crazy. Oh sure, there’d been normal conversation. But there’s also been dirty talking. Physical teasing that took her to the brink of orgasm over and over—sometimes just one of them, sometimes both of them. Like now. Derrick leaned forward. His fingers walked up her inner thigh. Slowly, his eyes intent on her face as he inched closer to his target.

She shook her head, tried to squeeze her thighs closed. As if that would dissuade her husband. A wickedly determined grin brought out the dimples in his cheeks. He didn’t need to use physical force to regain access. One sexy smile and her legs parted willingly.

“That’s my girl.” Two long fingers slid inside, then curled toward a spot he knew oh-so well.

Only the return of the wide-eyed waiter saved her from another torturous brush with satisfaction. She pushed both probing hands from her lap, inadvertently moving the tablecloth away in the process. A quick downward glance revealed her hiked-up dress and more than a sliver of skin. And hers wasn’t the only gaze glued to her bared private parts. Oh god.

Derrick yanked the linen until it covered her, rattling the dishes on the table. His barked, “Hey—eyes up here,” got the waiter’s attention plenty fast.

“Sorry.” The guy winced at Derrick’s
I could rip your arms off with my teeth
expression. He scrambled to grab the credit card Jeremy held in his upturned fingers, nearly dropping it in a glass. “I’ll uh…”

“Be right back?” Jeremy’s voice was cool and smooth, as always.

“Yes, sir,” the waiter glanced at the platinum card in his hand, “Mr. Cruz.”

More than ever, she wanted to be back in their room. With Derrick. The man who had roared to her defense, as he always did. Even now, with the waiter across the room, Derrick’s jaw clenched and ticked. Her parents often described his love as ferocious. They always meant it negatively—they couldn’t be more wrong.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to wander back to the cabin and freshen up.”

As she’d known he would, Derrick pushed his chair away, stood and took her hand to help her from the booth. “I’ll walk you.” He draped an arm over her shoulders, kissing the top of her head when she melted against his side. “Don’t tip too much. Eyeballing Hanna was tip enough.”

“Agreed.” Jeremy smiled in his easy, confident way. “Catch up with you shortly.”

* * *

Derrick glared at the waiter as they exited the restaurant. Little weasel had the good sense not to look at them as they passed. Wasn’t really the bastard’s greedy eyes that had him riled, though. He’d lost control of the situation back there, and because of that slip, Hanna had been embarrassed. He liked pushing her limits, watching color flood her cheeks when she rode a thrill. Not from humiliation. Worse, he could’ve prevented it.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better now that we’re out of there.”

Shit.

She stopped in the middle of the path, wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “You were too far away for me to do that. Or this…” Soft, warm lips met his. Her tongue teased its way between his lips, drew his into her mouth.

Well, damn. All right. He cupped her ass and pulled her tighter. Pressed the hard-on he’d endured throughout dinner against her abdomen. Heat flared at the back of his neck where her nails dug in. Fuck yeah. A throaty moan that meant she was seriously turned-on filled his mouth, his head. Nearly made him lose his fucking mind.