Hard and Fast (23 page)

“Alright!” he told her, pulling the line forward so that the fish fell on the floor of the boat. “You got a bass, babe.”

“I did?” Imogen stared at the fish jumping around, then smiled. “Well, of course I did.”

Ty laughed. “Exactly.” He released the fish from the hook and dropped it into the small cooler he had brought with them. “Very impressive.”

Imogen beamed at him. “I caught a fish. Wow. I can’t wait to tell my mother. She’ll never believe me.”

“What’s your mother like?”

“She’s like me, actually. Logical, boring. She owns an art gallery.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise him. He knew the world of art galleries and traffic and fine dining was Imogen’s home, but sometimes he had a hard time swallowing it. While she had big-city polish, she also had small-town curiosity.

“Babe, there is nothing boring about you at all.” He meant that straight up. She entertained him every second she was with him.

“Thanks.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “So do we keep fishing? Is there a goal in mind for the number of fish we want?”

His goal had simply been to relax and introduce Imogen to something he enjoyed, nothing more. “Nope. In fact, I’m thinking we should jump in and go swimming. I didn’t bring these inner tubes with us to let them go to waste.” Ty shucked off his T-shirt. “You ever been tubing?”

“I don’t even know what it is, so I don’t imagine I’ve done it.”

“I don’t know,” Ty said with a grin. “Sometimes you do things without knowing they have a name, and then you find out that the thing that gives you so much fun and pleasure is actually called something.”

She shot him a suspicious look. “You’re talking about sex again, aren’t you?”

Ty touched his chest. “Did I mention sex? I think you have a dirty mind, girl.”

“Probably,” she said. “Because right now I’m wishing we were back in the tent instead of in this wobbly boat.”

That made him grin and go hard, all at once. “Don’t worry, we can make something work.” He tossed the two tubes he’d brought with them into the lake and glanced around. They hadn’t seen anyone in the whole hour they’d been out on the water, which was a good thing. “Now we just jump in.”

Ty stood up and dove into the water, hearing Imogen shriek behind him when the boat rocked. He hit the water in an arc and came back up to see Imogen gripping the sides of the rowboat. “Come on in, the water’s nice.”

“It’s October, you know. Isn’t the water cold?”

“Nah. It’s over eighty degrees outside, the sun is shining. If this was spring, it might be chilly, but the water holds its temperature in the fall.” It was a little brisk, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Ty paddled over to an inner tube and climbed into it. He sank in and relaxed. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“That’s tubing? You just lie in a black rubber doughnut?”

“Well, I guess technically tubing is moving down a river in your inner tube, but we’ve got a lake, not a river.”

Ty dipped his fingers in the water and flicked some in Imogen’s direction. It hit her on the arm and she stared at it like it was acid.

“Hey. Watch it.”

He did it again.

She was fighting the urge to laugh, he could tell. But she didn’t say anything, just carefully took off her glasses and tucked them in the pocket of her jeans. She stripped off her T-shirt, revealing a whole lot of Imogen in a tiny black bikini. He wasn’t sure why, but he wouldn’t have taken her for the string bikini type, but it was barely there, and he was thoroughly grateful. She stood up cautiously, back hunched over, clearly not even aware of the power she could wield over him posing in that bikini.

Instead, she pinched her nose shut with her fingers, which he found absolutely adorable. Then she jumped, feetfirst, in the most ungraceful, sinking-stone leap Ty had ever seen, covering him with water from head to toe from the massive splash.

He was shaking his head like a dog to rid his hair and eyelashes of the water when she emerged coughing and shivering.

“Oh, my God, it’s freezing! You’re a big fat liar.” Imogen treaded water and swiped at her eyes. “Did I splash you?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m soaking wet.”

“Good.” She grinned. “You deserve it.” She swam over to the second tube and tried to pull herself onto it awkwardly, with two failed attempts that had her bottom wiggling two feet away from his face.

“Need some help?” Ty contemplated swatting her wet, bikini-covered bottom, but figured that would send her face-first into the water. Imogen wasn’t exactly a natural-born athlete.

“I got it,” she said breathlessly, slipping back into the water and assessing the tube from all angles with her head tilted.

“Get in the middle,” he suggested. “Then just pull yourself up.”

She lifted it over her head, put her arms on either side, and tried to haul herself up. She immediately sank back into the water. “Huh,” she lamented. “Guess I need better arm strength.”

“Come here.” Ty tugged on her tube, pulling her over to him. He leaned over. “Put your arms back up.”

She did, and he caught her around the middle and lifted. “Bring your legs up,” he ordered, but she overshot the mark and sent them both tumbling backward into the water.

“Oops, sorry,” she said, squeezing water out of her ponytail and giving him a sheepish look.

“Not a problem unless you did it on purpose. Then I might have to punish you.”

“I didn’t.” Which he knew, but it amused him to see her vehemently shaking her head. “I’m just a klutz.”

Ty hopped back on his tube and said, “Let’s try this again. Come closer so I can lift you up by your arms.”

Imogen treaded water in front of him, but didn’t comply. “I’m not sure I should get closer. Are you going to punish me?”

The way she said that—her eager, throaty voice immediately shifting the exchange from playful to sensual—had Ty grinding his teeth to keep from groaning out loud. “Do you need to be punished? Have you been bad? Did you knock me into the water on purpose?”

She shook her head quickly, but she didn’t answer. Her mouth was open, eyes wide, her finger trailing across her bottom lip in a way that told Ty she wasn’t kidding when she’d said she’d rather be in the tent. She was regretting that they’d been interrupted on the trail and was looking for him to finish the job.

Damn, she turned him on, made him hot and hard and demanding.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. “Now get over here and lift up your arms before I have to come and get you.”

There was no further protest. She swam over to him and lifted her arms up in the air, her chest rising and falling rapidly, nipples tight beads in her bikini top, goose bumps on her chest and arms, whether from cold or arousal, Ty wasn’t sure. She blinked up at him, wanting him, lusting after him, wanting his body in hers the same way he wanted to take her with his cock, to pound into her again and again.

Ty reached out and lifted Imogen, pulling her up onto the tube with him, maintaining his balance with difficulty, but managing to get her settled on top of him. It was unfortunate that his ass was actually in the water and he couldn’t really feel her pressing against his erection, but it would do for now.

“We’re going to fall,” she whispered, looking down into his eyes, her fingernails digging into his flesh as she gripped his arms, her mouth a hairbreadth from his.

“So?” he asked. “We’ve already fallen. And this is worth the risk of a second dunking.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” And Ty kissed her, closing his eyes as the cool, sweet taste of her lips washed over him.

He could kiss her forever, he decided, just pressing his lips against hers over and over, letting their mouths mingle together. She did things to him that no woman ever had, she made him feel hot and possessive and tender and elated. He’d never thought of himself as a romantic guy, but with Imogen he wanted to be. He wanted the words to describe to her how good he felt when she was with him.

It was a place of perfect contentment for him, lolling around on the water with Imogen in his arms, no worries about the Chase for the Cup, nothing but gratitude for his life, what he had, and where he was.

“Mmmm,” she said when they broke apart. She relaxed on him, her head on his chest as they bobbed in the water.

Ty thought about finding a way to give Imogen oral sex, but decided he’d either drown in the process or knock them both into the water. So instead, he moved his hand between her legs and stroked along the front of her bikini bottoms.

“Stop that,” she murmured.

“Why?” Ty used the pad of his thumb to circle around her clitoris.

“Because you’re turning me on.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is when you can’t do anything about it.”

“Who says I can’t do anything about it?” Ty maneuvered his fingers inside the damp bottoms and slid along her warm flesh.

“Ahhhh,” was her response, which he took as a positive sign to continue.

Finding a slow, easy rhythm, he went in and out of her, feeling her body respond with a rush of moisture. It was a little bit of an awkward position for him, but he didn’t care when he heard her breathing quicken and felt her hips tense.

“Oh,” she said, her breath tickling his cheek. “Oh, that is rather nice.”

“Yeah?” Ty played with her clitoris before slipping back inside her. Hooking his finger, he stroked deeply along the inner wall and was rewarded by her whole body jerking slightly.

“Oh!” she said again, only this time it was shock, excitement, serious hot and juicy pleasure. “Nice doesn’t . . .” She sucked in a breath when he repeated the action. “Cover it. Oh, God, oh God . . .”

It looked like he’d found her G-spot again, a happy, hot discovery. Ty throbbed with desire as he stroked again and had the acute pleasure of feeling and seeing her come, her cries loud and frantic, her inner muscles convulsing around his finger. He held on until she had stilled, panting in his ear. Then he slowly slid out of her and trailed his hand up her side.

“You okay?”

She nodded, blinking at him. “That was . . .” Her raspy voice trailed off.

“Nice?” he suggested with a grin.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Ty moved his legs and separated from her. “Because we’re going back to the site now. We have a date with a sleeping bag.”

“Nice,” she said, sprawled across the inner tube like a lazy cat in the sun.

Ty laughed and rolled off into the water, welcoming the cold submersion.

 

 

IMOGEN rather expected Ty to get her back to their campsite and fling her down onto the sleeping bag posthaste. Which she would not have objected to in the least.

But he was courteous enough to suggest she change out of her wet bathing suit and have some lunch. Ty also pointed out the bathroom facilities to her, such as they were.

After a precarious few minutes in the outhouse, she emerged to find Ty had spread out a lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and crackers on the picnic table.

“Wow, aren’t you domestic?” Imogen took a seat on the bench and grabbed a grape.

“Note there’s no red dye. I don’t want you having an allergic reaction on our trip. That would seriously interfere with my plans.” Ty raised his eyebrows up and down. “And my mother taught me to take care of myself. She always said she was raising future husbands, not boys.”

Touched he had remembered an allergy she had only mentioned once when he’d been eating candy at Tamara’s house, Imogen said, “Thank you, that was sweet. And I should thank your mother as well.”

Immediately she realized how that could be misconstrued and she tried to explain. “I mean, I should thank her for ensuring you were capable of preparing decent meals, as I’ve now been the recipient of them twice. I wasn’t at all making any reference to your potential as a husband.” Imogen bit her grape and told herself to shut up.

Ty looked more amused than put out. “I kind of figured that out, but thanks for clarifying. And you already made it clear what you think of my potential as a husband when you asked Nikki why in hell she’d ever want to marry me.”

She knew he was teasing her, but she still couldn’t help defending herself. “I explained that to you. The girl was using absolutely the wrong set of criteria to choose a spouse and, frankly, to reach the conclusion that marriage was even what she wanted at this juncture in her life.”

“I agree. But what is the right set of criteria, Emma Jean?” Ty bit into a turkey sandwich as he sat on the bench across from her. “How do you know when the time is right?”

“Prevailing opinion would have it you just know.”

“I thought I knew and I was wrong.” He shrugged. “Does it matter in the long run? No, I guess it doesn’t. No harm came out of it. And it’s funny now that I can look back and see it was more of a puppy love on my part than a true and deep love.”

“What is the difference and how do you know?” That bothered Imogen, the great unknown, the wondering if there would ever be a life partner for her. She could live happily alone, she knew that, but everyone craved on some fundamental level that kind of passion and devotion. The safety that came from knowing you were truly and completely loved. But how would she know when she did have it, if she did?

“Beats the hell out of me. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in love the way I imagine you need to be to sustain a thirty-year marriage.”

He set his sandwich down on the uncovered picnic table, which momentarily distracted her. Wasn’t that table dirty? But it didn’t seem to bother him, so Imogen forced herself to refocus. His wheat bread wasn’t the issue here; they were talking about love.

“I’ve never felt that either,” she told him.

They stared at each for a heartbeat, something in his brown eyes darkening and starting to smolder. There was something between them, something new and wondrous and passionate, and Imogen wondered how far it could go.