Playing With Fire (13 page)

"Don't sweat it. I've got you covered."

The snack bar attendant served their meals in a flimsy cardboard tray.

Matt supposed the promise of food was all that kept Lindsay there. Of course, if she bolted, he'd go after her. Matt fully planned on keeping Lindsay with him for the remainder of the night, fighting off any competition with a club if need be.

"Condiments are on that table over there. Grab some napkins and mustard, will you?"

Lindsay shot him a scathing look, but did as he requested. At the condiments table, she gathered what they needed, taking some catsup and relish for herself. They sat at one of the metal picnic tables under the ramada and ate in relative silence. Matt had a lot he wanted to say, but opted to wait. She'd pretty well laid down the law that morning at breakfast, and he'd thrown it right back at her. The next move was hers, though he might nudge her a little.

He'd understood her reasons for not wanting to see him outside of work and actually agreed with most of them. What they'd done in the equipment room was foolhardy. And if discovered, the penalties would be extensive. Matt cared about his job and didn't want to lose it. He also cared about Lindsay and because of that, he'd spent the day convincing himself to play by her rules.

All that changed the second he'd surfaced from his last lap in the pool and spotted Lindsay lying on her towel. She'd looked like a model from the swimsuit edition of
Sports Illustrated Magazine
. Eyes glued to her lithe form, he watched her rise and stroll to the snack bar, as did every other man present past the age of puberty. When the jerk in the Speedo overstepped his boundaries, Matt hauled himself out of the water, all his previous resolutions forgotten. She was his and his alone.

"I'll walk you back to your towel,” he said when they'd finished eating.

"I don't need an escort."

"Sweetheart, in that getup, you need an armed guard."

The irritation in her eyes gave way to pleasant surprise. “Is that a compliment?"

"No, this is.” He reached across the table and lifted her fingers, lacing them with his. “You look fantastic tonight and if another guy comes on to you, I'm going to bash his teeth in."

"Thank you, I think."

She appeared pleased, which pleased Matt. After depositing their trash, they walked back to her towel, hand in hand. A spray of water showered them as they rounded the slide area. The lifeguard's shrill whistle blew, and he admonished some children for running too close to the water.

"Where's Mahina?” Matt asked when they reached her towel.

Lindsay scanned the pool area. “Over there.” She squinted. “Getting a cardiovascular workout by the looks of it."

"A what?"

"It's a joke. She met a man earlier today and he mentioned his nightly swims."

"Which explains why you're here."

"You know how women are. We travel in packs."

"But not now."

Matt moved closer, pulled her into a loose embrace. Her lips tempted him. He thought of kissing them, of running his tongue along the seam until they parted and she welcomed him into her mouth. Why not turn fantasy into reality since cooling it was clearly impossible for either of them? He lowered his head.

She placed her hands on his chest. “I came here to swim."

"So we'll swim.” She shrieked when he scooped her up in his arms, strode to the edge of the pool and jumped in. The water was waist-deep where they landed.

Lindsay sputtered and kicked, pushing back the damp hair from her face and attempting to wrestle free. “Put me down!"

"Not yet.” Not ever, if he could help it.

He twirled her in a circle. Water rolled over Lindsay and sluiced between their slippery bodies, creating a silky friction where their skin met. Matt liked the sensation. More so when she linked her arms around his neck and her shrieks melted into laughter. He came to a stop when he felt himself swell and thicken inside his bathing suit.

Lindsay must have felt it, too. “This probably wasn't such a good idea."

"You're right. I have a better one.” He carried her to the steps in the shallow end, then set her down. Together, they climbed out of the pool. When she turned left, the direction of her and Mahina's towels, he caught her wrist. “This way."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Jacuzzi."

Her steps slowed. “Maybe we shouldn't—"

He spun her around and took her in his arms again.

"For once, Lindsay, let's just enjoy each other's company without worrying if what we're doing is right or wrong. Later, we'll deal with the repercussions.” He reached up and cradled the side of her face, tracing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Tonight, it's you and me."

She stared at him, her eyes searching. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay."

The Jacuzzi was separate from the pool, situated on the other side of the water slide. Wispy clouds of steam rose off the churning turquoise water. Two senior ladies, the only other occupants of the Jacuzzi, greeted Matt and Lindsay with warm, aren't-they-the-cutest-couple smiles.

Lindsay preceded Matt into the Jacuzzi, holding onto a handrail as she lowered herself into the hot water. They took a seat opposite the two ladies. Bubbles from the swirling jets collected in a white froth around them. After a short exchange of pleasantries with their companions, Matt and Lindsay faced each other and tuned out the rest of the world.

"I've missed you,” he said in a low voice. Powerful jets of water struck them in the sides, the noise they made blocking their conversation from any listeners.

Lindsay scooped up a handful of bubbles, watched them quickly dissipate, then repeated the process. “It's only been since breakfast."

"Too long.” Under the water, Matt's hand rested on the small of her back.

The blanket of bubbles surrounding them provided a modest covering. Working his way to the edge of her bikini bottom, he toyed with the stretchy material.

She shifted and smiled self-consciously at the two ladies. “We have company,” she said to Matt under her breath.

"Do you suppose they'd mind if I asked them to leave?” He slipped his hand inside her bikini bottom. His fingers settled in the cleft of her buttocks. She jerked slightly, but didn't move away.

Matt wondered if any man had touched her there before. It made him want her all the more, if that were possible. He inched his hand lower, measuring her reaction as he did. One little flinch from her, any indication of resistance, and he'd back off.

She scooted closer to him. Matt was ready to suggest they abandon the Jacuzzi in favor of a more private setting when her fingers grazed his stomach. Then traveled lower. He ground his teeth together with force, afraid one touch would set him off. It didn't. But almost.

He fought for control, preferring to avoid a repeat of the previous night, this time, with witnesses. Their escapade in the equipment room, while definitely enjoyable, didn't compare to making love. His need to touch and taste the most intimate places on her body was surpassed only by his need to sink himself deep inside her.

"I'd like to take you home, Lindsay.” He removed his hand so that his fingers could scale the column of her spine to her neck.

"I'd like that, too."

"You sure? Once we leave, that's it. There's no going back."

"I'm sure."

"And no regrets, either.” He angled her head so their eyes met.

"None.” She held his gaze without wavering.

That was all he needed to hear. “Tell Mahina we're leaving."

Chapter 8

Matt opened the passenger side door of his pickup truck, and Lindsay climbed in. As she turned to sit, the hem of her sarong hiked up, revealing a long expanse of silky, smooth leg. Matt's blood sizzled, and he felt like he was back in the Jacuzzi surrounded by hot, bubbling water.

They hadn't talked much on the way from the pool to the parking lot. There was no need. They communicated in ways other than speech; a brush of their fingers, a lifting of eyebrows, private smiles ripe with promise.

Once behind the steering wheel, Matt started the engine and drove from the parking lot onto the street. Traffic was congested, typical for downtown Glendale during early evening. He tried to remain calm. Lindsay didn't live far. He could afford to wait.

Or maybe not.

Frustrated by yet another red light, he punched the console beside him, sending an empty Styrofoam cup cartwheeling to the floor.

"You okay?” Lindsay asked as he retrieved the cup.

"If you hear a strange noise, don't worry. That's just me. Hyperventilating."

She flipped up the console, which fit into a recessed hole in the seat back, unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over next to him. “Relax,” she said, walking her fingers up his arm.

Yeah, right. Every synapse in his brain had just simultaneously fired. “The only way I'll relax is if you ride in the truck bed."

Her warm, sensual laughter rolled over him. Matt liked hearing it. She didn't laugh enough, taking life far too seriously. Placing a hand on her thigh, he congratulated himself for having the foresight to buy a truck with an automatic transmission.

Her leg melding to his, the heat generated by their intimate contact made driving difficult. He stayed on task by reminding himself of the rewards should he deliver them both to her place in one piece.

"You'd better buckle your seatbelt,” he said, nodding at her lap.

As she rooted around for the middle seatbelt, the traffic light turned green. He pressed the gas pedal and they took off, only to come to a stop at the next intersection.

Lindsay gave up on the seatbelt. She held up one strap. “I can't find the other one."

"You should probably move back to where you were sitting before."

"We'll be at my house in five minutes."

"A lot can happen in five minutes."

"That's true."

Her suggestive tone jarred his concentration. Then she put her hand on the fly of his swim trunks. After that, he couldn't add two plus two, much less operate a moving vehicle.

"Lindsay,” he cautioned. “What are you doing?"

"We have five minutes.” Her fingers grasped the Velcro fastener at his waist and yanked it apart. “Why waste it?"

Matt almost jumped out of his skin at the ripping sound. He had trouble keeping a steady pressure on the gas pedal, and the truck slowed and sped up alternately. The driver in the car behind them beeped his horn.

"You're going to get us killed."

"I thought you liked the adrenalin rush from taking risks,” she said, quoting him from yesterday.

He sucked in a sharp breath when she freed his erect penis from the confines of his swim trunks. With another one of those private smiles on her lips, she slid gracefully backwards and lowered her head. Matt froze. Did she really mean to ... No, she couldn't. She wouldn't.

But she did.

Her lips and tongue, petal soft and seeking, glided up the length of him. With a low murmur of pleasure, she took the tip of him in her mouth. Then more.

"Jeeze, Lindsay.” He gripped the steering wheel so hard, his hands cramped. “Oh, God."

He should make her stop. But nothing had ever felt so good. For a woman without much experience, she caught on quickly. By some sort of miracle, he navigated traffic, managing to keep the truck between the white lines. Barely. The entire time, Lindsay loved him with her mouth. Sweetly, wantonly, and thoroughly.

He'd never been so happy as when he pulled into her driveway.

Or so turned on.

He threaded his fingers into her hair and raised her head, crushing her mouth in a fierce kiss that left them both gasping for air when it was over.

"You're crazy for doing that,” he told her, his throat dry and scratchy. But then again, wasn't he also crazy for letting her? “What were you thinking?"

"Only that I wanted you. Right then. Not in five minutes."

Direct, succinct, and brash.

Exactly the qualities he liked in a woman.

"Inside,” he said and wrenched open his door. If he didn't get her into bed within the next minute, he'd take her right there on the truck seat.

They made it as far as the living room.

Mouths meshed and limbs entwined, they stumbled inside the front door and fell onto the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be an overstuffed chair. They landed in a heap with Matt on top and Lindsay trapped beneath him.

"My turn,” he growled and slid down her body to the floor, kneeling in front of her.

Breathing heavily, more from excitement than exertion, Lindsay watched Matt as he pushed her sarong up. She facilitated the process by elevating her bottom. When she reached to remove her bikini bottom, he took over, nudging her hands aside.

"Let me."

A single ray of soft light spilled in from the kitchen, providing enough illumination for Lindsay to see his face. His brows were drawn together in determination, his eyes dark and smoky with desire. Slowly, as if revealing a valuable treasure, he removed her bikini bottom. Pitching the flimsy garment over his shoulder, he drew her legs apart and went utterly still, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to hers.

"You're so beautiful."

Leaning forward, he kissed her belly, the sensitive spot where her leg joined her hip, the inside of her thighs, and lastly, the very center of her sex.

Lindsay's bones turned to liquid.

She'd imagined but never engaged in foreplay of this kind. Fantasy, she conceded, didn't compare to reality. The tension inside her built. She felt herself being lifted and pulled, as if riding in the front car of a roller coaster while it climbed the first steep hill. And like those thrill-seekers, she faced the fast approaching plummet on the opposite side with a mixture of nervousness and wild excitement.

Her climax came swifter than she'd anticipated and with more force. Her liquid bones suddenly solidified, and she arched off the chair, calling Matt's name.

When her spasms finally ceased and the quaking in her legs subsided, he sat back on his calves. She tried to sit up, but her arms were as weak as two sticks of straw. “Quit your smiling, will you?” she admonished him jokingly.