Sand Angel (5 page)

Not Drew’s thing. He wasn’t up for company. His confrontation with Zoë had not gone well. Though he did have to admit that for a brief second the unyielding woman had vanished and he had held the soft, warm girl she used to be. He had felt the moment of surrender when her body responded to his touch. Her nipple had been diamond-hard against his tongue. Her pussy wet and slick as his fingers probed between her thighs.

His cock jerked with the recollection. Again he felt the tingly sensation in his groin as blood rushed to fill his sac. This was what he had to look forward to over the long weekend. A woman who despised him and an eternal hard-on for said woman.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The only thing that thwarted the direction his mind headed was Zoë’s silent tears. Her wet emotion pulled at his heartstrings. It was true that her body had been accommodating, but not her heart.

She hated him.

He had hurt her again.

The darn hamburger he’d eaten after he showered was now settling like a weight in his stomach. The near-empty beer he held wasn’t much better. He chugged down the remainder in one gulp, reached for the ice chest, retrieving another. With a quick twist, he popped the top and then took a sip. All the while, he continued to eye Zoë’s trailer, waiting for her to emerge.

Earlier, she had refused Josh’s encouragement to come out and eat. Her insistence had earned Drew a quiet scowl from her brother.

When a truck door slammed and a jolly howl followed, Drew turned his attention to the new arrivals.

Sonofabitch, if it wasn’t Dean Connor. Drew pushed to his feet and met Connor halfway.

“Well look what the dog dragged home.” Connor’s large hand jutted out in welcome. He pumped Drew’s arm like a water handle. “Shit, Drew. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” The brawny man released Drew and then slapped him on the back.

Connor had been a halfback for the Rattlers. Arena football was all the rage in Arizona. The man’s square jaw, muscular neck and rowdy good looks had always kept the women nipping at his heels. “Damn, buddy, I’m glad to see you made it back in one piece.”

Drew shared Connor’s sentiments. Yet there were times when Drew had wondered whether he
would
return. Fact was he came back with more than he left. A couple of pieces of shrapnel embedded in his body were souvenirs he would have rather left behind.

From the passenger side of Connor’s big, black truck, a pretty little sable-haired gal in a halter-top and a pair of short-shorts slipped out. With a sway to her hips, she sauntered up to Connor.

Her gaze danced across Drew in heated appreciation. “Dean, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” she purred, smiling up at Drew through heavy lashes.

“Woman, do I have to remind you you’re here with me this weekend?” Connor chuckled as he wrapped a brawny arm around her shoulders.

If Drew remembered correctly, Connor and Josh shared their female conquests and sometimes at the same time. Was she one of their little playthings?

Connor pressed his lips to her forehead. “Drew, this little minx is Kari. Drew just got back from Iraq.”

She wiggled from beneath Connor’s arm and inched closer to Drew, crowding his personal space. “A soldier boy. I do love a man in uniform—or out of one.” She ran a single finger along the dip in his T-shirt’s neckline, focusing on the spot, before she tilted her nose and smiled up at him. Her fingernail scraping against his skin and her coy expression sent goose bumps across his flesh.

Damned if his cock didn’t take the opportunity to stand at attention, alerting her to the reaction she had on him. A coy smile touched her lips, then her tongue made a slow, sensual trail across her bottom lip.

His gaze darted back to Zoë’s toy hauler. A twitch of anxiety tightened the muscles across his shoulders and up his neck. The last thing he needed was for Zoë to catch him with Kari.

Arms dangling by his sides, Drew sucked in a breath, while searching for an excuse to become scarce. “Uh—”

Connor must have seen Drew’s discomfort. “Ease up, Kari. Drew is a professional photographer and freelancer for INN.”

A sparkle lit in her amber eyes as they raked a path across him from head to toe. “Photographer? I hope you brought your camera, hon. Maybe later we can have a private photo shoot of our own.”

Yep. Drew was pretty sure this one was one of Connor and Josh’s girls. Connor didn’t appear fazed by her sexual innuendo. In fact, the man was grinning ear to ear. “Party in my trailer later.” Connor wagged his heavy brows. Then he slapped Kari on the ass, making a smacking sound. A delightful giggle was her answer. “Come on, hussy. Let’s get the rail and quads unloaded.”

Again, her tongue made a slow, sexy path between full lips. “Later,” she promised as one eyelid dipped in a seductive wink, before turning away from Drew.

Kari was bad news. An interference he didn’t need this weekend, not when he was attempting to get back into Zoë’s good graces.

A Hummer pulling a trailer with two sand rails, and another truck and toy hauler, pulled off the road and into the sand. The deep, steady rumble and rich scent of diesel filled the air as the one-ton truck eased into a place perpendicular to Josh’s trailer. Drew recognized the driver as Trent Manning. He and Josh had gone to college with the dark-haired man. Trent switched the engine off and climbed out of his truck. A handful of men followed him as they immediately went to the back of his rig and unloaded six quads, then moved to the other vehicle.

With Connor’s trailer aligned the same way to Zoë’s, and a couple more rigs placed horizontally in front of them, their campsite formed a perfect rectangle, creating their own private party area.

Already Drew could hear the hiss of beer bottles opening and laughter as women disappeared into the trailers and men started stripping their clothes off where they stood, reaching for their riding gear and donning it. It wasn’t long before the sharp twang of two-stroke versus four-cycle engines ranged loud and clear. These people took their riding seriously. Drew guessed setting up camp could wait in their eyes.

It was time to ride.

Zoë must have heard the commotion, because she stepped out of her trailer fully dressed for riding.

Drew’s pulse leaped. He didn’t have any of his gear on. As he moved hastily toward the trailer to retrieve his clothing and boots, he saw Zoë fall into the embrace of one man after another. He watched as Trent picked her off her feet, swung her around and then slapped a big kiss on her. When he sat her on her feet, his arm remained around her.

A growl vibrated up Drew’s throat as he dropped his shorts where he stood. He crammed one leg into his pants. Like an idiot, he hopped around on the other foot before he gained his balance. Pants on, he pulled the jersey over his head and quickly took a seat. It chapped his ass to see her so comfortable among a shitload of rowdy and surely horny men. As he pushed his foot into a sock and then his boot, he saw Zoë walk away with Trent toward a sand rail. Drew fumbled with the snaps of his boots, leaving the top ones undone as he reached for his other sock and boot. Everything inside him wanted to yell out at her, draw her attention, as she slipped behind the wheel of the vehicle. Yet he knew there was a ninety percent chance she’d simply ignore him. More than likely the odds were closer to a hundred percent. As he jumped to his feet, fastening his belt, he began to hastily move toward her.

The sand rail engine screamed to life.

Too late.

The vehicle’s front tires popped off the ground, high into the air.

“Shit!” Adrenaline coursed through Drew’s body fast and furious. The speed and sharp incline stole his breath away. He knew any minute it would fall backward and kill both her and Trent.

As his heart crashed against his chest, shouts of excitement rang from individuals within eyesight of the spectacle. Zoë steered the contraption on its back tires down the road, riding it out.

Damn her. She was going to be the death of him.

This was not the innocent girl he left behind. No. This one had a wild streak a mile wide. He didn’t take a breath until the front tires of the rail bounced against the ground. Even then, she spun the vehicle on a dime, cutting into the sand and spraying the gritty substance from beneath her tires.

How the hell was he going to catch up with her? Probably the better question was, what was he going to do when he caught her?

“Hey, sugar, looking for me?” The sexy, soft-spoken words made him spin around. Kari slithered to his side. Her arm curled around his. She was dressed in riding gear from the waist down, but her chest sported a bathing suit top that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her full breasts stood invitingly, urging him to reach out and cup them.

Drew didn’t want to appear rude. He eased his arm from hers as he forced a smile he didn’t feel. With as much aplomb as possible, he glanced down at Kari. “Just heading out.” His voice reflected disinterest, while his insides felt like they were tied in knots.

This was exactly the reason he had run in the first place. His feelings for Zoë were uncontrollable. She lit a fire in him like no woman ever had. When he was around her, the desire to touch her was overpowering. All he could think about was going to bed each night buried inside her body and waking up each morning wrapped in her arms.

She drove him crazy.

Turned him every which way but loose.

Hell, she kept him in a constant state of arousal.

Bright pink fingernails slowly crawled up his arm as Kari insinuated herself again around his arm. “Why don’t you stay behind?” He caught her not-so-subtle glance toward Josh’s trailer. “I’m sure we can find something to entertain us. Maybe a photo shoot.” Her free hand stroked up and down his arm as she snuggled in closer.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off the rail and stream of quads following as they disappeared in the distance. “Kari—”

With a jerk she pulled her arm from his. He glanced down at her. “Don’t tell me. You’re sniffing at her heels too.” That foxy tone disappeared, replaced by a chilly bite.

Drew didn’t dare ask who she referred to, but he did anyway. “Who?”

“Umph.” She frowned, her perfectly plucked eyebrows pulled inward. “The Davis chick. Josh’s sister. Didn’t you see her grand exit or the line of worshippers following her? She did this last year.”

Drew didn’t like the sound of that. Now that Kari mentioned it, the camp did seem a little quiet, too bare. And there was no way in hell he’d catch Zoë now.

“You don’t have to worry about Zoë anymore. She’s mine.” A skeptical laugh met his announcement.

Kari shook her head. The sneer on her face held contempt. “Yours and how many others?” She turned to leave, stopping to glance over her shoulder. “When she’s through with you, sugar, I’m available.”

Drew didn’t realize it, but his hands were fisted. His ears burned with an inner heat. Red-hot anger rushed through his veins. Zoë was his—no one else’s. The sooner she admitted it, the sooner they could put the past behind them.

Heavy steps expressed his determination as he headed toward his quad. In seconds, he had his helmet and goggles in place. Slung his leg over the seat and started the quad. It whined and then roared as he pressed the gas and sped away from camp.

In the distance a huge, brown cloud rose. The smell of dust and the sounds of small and large engines permeated the air.

The races had begun.

There was no doubt in Drew’s mind just where he’d find Zoë.

He approached the makeshift raceway aligned with quads, dirt bikes, rails, Rhinos, trucks, jeeps, any and all types of all-terrain vehicles on both sides. The strip was a series of whoop-de-dos, hills and valleys of various heights and spacing.

Drew slowly pulled up and parked next to Josh, who sat on his quad by Dean Connor. Connor and a man Drew had yet to meet both had their legs hanging casually through the piping of his rail.

“Where’s Zoë?” Drew asked, easing his goggles and then helmet off his head.

Josh’s expression was grim as he used a wet-wipe to clean his goggles. “She should be coming over that ridge shortly.” Concern rimmed his friend’s eyes. Maybe Drew wasn’t the only one worried about the chances Zoë was taking riding, or in this case driving.

From over a particularly large hill a rider on a dirt bike caught air. He soared high, but on his landing, for a mere second, he lost control, sliding into a squirrelly, a trail of waving lines in the sand behind him. The next to appear over the horizon was a monster truck. Its horn burst into a long wail like a train whistle that stirred the crowd with excitement. As the jacked-up truck raced down the track, each whoop-de-do tested its shocks and carriage.

Then, as Drew anticipated, Trent’s sand rail appeared, Zoë at the wheel, as another vehicle ran alongside. No one could claim she sandbagged the race. Trent was gripping the oh-shit bar for dear life. As she hit a hill, she gassed it, soaring higher and farther than the dune buggy now behind her. Sand sprayed into the crowd as they landed hard.

Applause and cheers of appreciation followed her win.

“Fuck,” Drew heard Josh whisper, more to himself than anyone in particular. But Drew’s glare was pinned on Zoë as she whipped the rail around, heading toward them.

Connor threw a lighthearted glance toward Josh. “Damn, Davis. Your sister drives that thing like she stole it. Hell on wheels.”