With Strings Attached (13 page)

Okay, now there was a wicked image flashing before her eyes. Dylan and Matt licking chocolate off her body…she almost moaned aloud. She cleared her throat. “Right.”

“Seriously. I don’t know why I never thought of that before.”

She continued to stare up at him, at his warm amber eyes, long thick eyelashes, the stubble that dusted his square jaw. The way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes so appealingly.

She wanted to jump him, right there. Her entire body tingled and heat swept from her hairline to her toes, which were curling in her flip-flops. “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

He was looking at her like he wanted to jump her too, which was crazy considering she looked and felt as unsexy as she possibly could, wearing her big apron, her hair all scraped back and covered with a hair net and no makeup whatsoever. He moved closer.

She didn’t know what to say.
Do me, right here?
No.

He smiled. “If I dragged you upstairs for a quickie, would it cause any problems with your chocolate?”

She glanced down. She could leave for a few minutes… She looked back up at him and shook her head.

He grinned, bent and scooped her up into his arms. The world tilted and she grabbed onto his shoulders with a gasp. “Matt!”

He headed for the stairs.

“Put me down! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“I think I can carry a hundred pounds up the stairs.”

“A hundred and ten.”

He snorted. Once upstairs, he lowered her feet to the floor. While she unfastened the apron and dragged it off, he tugged the hair net off, yanked her ponytail elastic out and with his hands buried in her hair, he held her head and kissed her. She held on to his shoulders and kissed him back in a frenzy of hunger, every nerve ending throbbing, heat rushing through her veins.

“Christ, Corey,” he gasped against her mouth. “Jesus Christ.” He reached for her leg and pulled it up against his hip so they fit together so closely, his hard-on pushing into her softness and, impatient, she jumped onto him, wrapping her arms around his head. His hands went to her butt to hold her against him and they stumbled in a little circle until he slammed her against a wall. Their mouths still fused, he pressed her there while they kissed over and over, flames burning at her skin, and a deep delicious ache centering low inside her.

“God, Matt!” Her head tipped back against the hard wall and he kissed down over her chin to her throat and sucked gently. Sensation sizzled across her flesh, an inferno of lust building up inside her.

“Gonna be hard with clothes on,” he muttered against her skin below her ear and she shivered at the tickle of his breath. “Hold on.” He stepped back and her legs lowered to the floor. “Take your shorts off,” he ordered, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He fumbled around for a condom, unzipped and rolled it on at warp speed while she shimmied out of her shorts and panties. She kicked them aside and then they were back together, mouths on each other again in hot hungry kisses, her legs around his now-bare hips, her back against the wall. Skin to skin, his cock seared her, so hot and hard. His fingers slipped between them and found her center. “Oh, honey,” he groaned. “You are so wet.”

“I know, I know. Do it.”

He laughed softly, found his cock with his hand and began pushing into her. She gave a little whimper, closed her eyes, fingers in his hair. “So hot,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear. “So hot and wet.”

“This is crazy,” she managed to gasp as he thrust all the way in. “Oh, yeah!”

“There you go. Just like that.” He began to move, small pushes in and out, groaning, kissing her cheek, rubbing his face on her hair. “Oh yeah, just like…that.”

She tried to move against him as best she could, pinned there, tried to get the pressure on her clit she needed…so bad…needed more… There it was, oh yeah, there it was. Sweet pleasure flowed from the center of her out to her fingertips and toes, and a coiling tension rose inside her. Higher. Tighter. More…one more…and then she burst with it, exquisite sensation flooding her and she gave a little wail.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart, that’s it, come for me…like that…now me. Oh God. There it is…” And with a low guttural sound, Matt pressed up hard into her one last time, holding her on his throbbing shaft, her own body still pulsing, so sensitive she could feel every spasm of his orgasm inside her. “Fuck, yeah.”

They stayed like that, slumped against the wall, holding on to each other and panting, for a few long moments. Then Matt lifted his head and kissed her mouth once more, softly. “Holy hell, woman.”

She smiled at him, feeling all warm and tingly and satisfied. “Holy hell is right. What was that?”

He licked his lips and moved his head from side to side. “Wow. I don’t know what it was but I liked it.”

He brushed his lips over her eyelids, kissed her nose, then her mouth one more time before letting go of her legs.

“Not sure if I can stand up,” she murmured, her legs a little weak. “Whoo.”

“You okay?” He paused as he turned away.

“Mmm. Oh yeah.”

With a smug little grin he disappeared into her bathroom. She scooped up her panties. Wow. What had gotten into him?

Now it was her turn to smirk a little smugly. Maybe he was feeling a little competitive. She didn’t want to come between him and Dylan, but geez…maybe a little competition was a good thing. She stepped into her panties, adjusting the string sides on her hips as Matt returned. His eyes dipped appreciatively to her hips and legs and deliberately she turned and bent over to pick up her shorts.

“Oh, man,” he groaned coming up behind her to cup her butt cheeks. From behind he rubbed his face against her hair again. “You trying to get me hot all over again?”

“Of course not.” But she smiled and closed her eyes briefly at the sensation of being held in his arms. “I have work to do, you know.”

He laughed and released her so she could put her shorts back on. “I know. So do I.”

Monday morning, Dylan made calls to the names he’d been given, and found one therapist who could see him that afternoon. His feelings about it were kind of confused. He knew he had to do it if he wanted to get back to surfing as fast as possible and get back on the tour. But getting back on the tour as fast as possible was…ah, shiz. For the first time, he thought about giving up. His insides started knotting up every time he thought about getting back to it. Maybe he should just cut himself loose. Get a real job.

But what else could he do? He stared glumly at the television in Matt’s living room. He had to do this.

He distracted himself with some hot memories of the marathon in bed the night before. Probably the last thing he would’ve thought would happen, coming back to San Amaro. Nice of Matt to share his friend. That’s what buddies were for. Now he knew that Matt really didn’t mind sharing her, he and Corey could get together just the two of them. He grinned. He looked forward to that.

He hadn’t seen Matt and Corey that morning. He’d gone back to his room to sleep at about two in the morning, for some reason feeling weird about actually sleeping all night with both of them. Having sex was one thing, but sleeping in the same bed all night just seemed…wrong. Plus, there was always the chance he’d have another one of those nightmares and if that happened he did not want to embarrass himself in front of someone else. So by the time he’d dragged his butt out of bed that morning, they’d been long gone.

That afternoon, he drove to the business district on Shore Drive. He found a place to park and, standing on the brick sidewalk with his crutches, he gazed across the avenue. Right across the street was the beach walk, a path lined with palm trees and flowers and shrubs, and beyond that the beach, a wide stretch of pale sand leading to the blue Pacific Ocean. He stared at it from behind his Oakley shades. The water called to him. He should be out there in it, on it, meeting the challenge of riding those waves, conquering it. Though in the cove here, there weren’t any waves to speak of, just gentle rolls onto shore. His insides knotted.

Farther north up the beach, the cliffs rose up into Seal Point and around the point was Breaker Beach, where he’d learned to surf as a kid. Where he’d watched big ASP events and dreamed of one day competing like that. He hadn’t been there yet, since he’d been back. Remembering the big swells made his gut tighten even more.

Whatever. He had an appointment to get to. He started down the sidewalk, past a funky little coffee shop, a gift shop, a café with tables and chairs out on a neat little patio. All the shops looked high-end, with neat brick fronts and classy signs. Palm trees waved above him in the breeze and pots of bright flowers and greenery clustered beside shop doors. Hanging baskets of flowers swayed gently in front of some stores and from the vintage-looking streetlamp posts.

He arrived at the physical therapy clinic, mondo spiffy with dark green shutters on the window and a shiny brass sign. He used the button for the automatic door opener and hobbled into a small reception area. “I have an appointment,” he told the young girl working at the reception desk. “Dylan Schell.”

She looked at her computer and nodded. “Have a seat, Mr. Schell.”

He sat and his gaze moved over the leather bucket chairs and dark wood tables with glossy magazines piled on them. Through the big window with brass grids, sun poured in and lit up a potted palm and some cool art on the walls. He’d only been waiting a couple of minutes when a young woman appeared in the door.

“Dylan Schell.” She looked at him with a friendly smile. “Hi. I’m Mallory Avenall. Come in.”

She led him into a spacious back area with beds separated by curtains. The place was busier than it had appeared from the quiet waiting room. Numerous therapists hustled from one client to another. She stopped in front of an empty bed. “Climb up here,” she said. “We’ll get some information from you.” She yanked the curtain closed around them. She was probably about his age, slender and athletic looking, with shiny auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail that hung in a curve like a comma. “So you’re a professional surfer.”

“Yes.”

She smiled, her teeth white, her lips shiny pink. Pretty.

The therapist in Perth had been in her forties and married, though that hadn’t stopped him from flirting with her, but Mallory looked like she’d be a lot more fun to flirt with.

“What happened?” she asked.

He told her about the accident and she asked some questions about his injury. He handed over the folder he’d brought from the doctor in Australia. “So you were doing some therapy in Perth?”

“Yes.”

“What kinds of things were they doing with you?”

“I had a cryo cuff for a while. They did heat and cold treatments at the clinic and some electrical stimulation. Massage. Whirlpool.”

She frowned. “All passive treatment. Exercises?”

“No. But I’ve been working out on my own at the gym—mostly upper-body weights.”

“You need to get more active,” she said. “You’ve probably lost a lot of strength already. What are you doing for cardio?”

“I haven’t.” They’d told him he could swim, but…he hadn’t been back in the water since the accident, other than the shower. He swallowed.

“Swimming, cycling…we’ll get you started on some exercises today. If you can do them on your own, you’ll probably only have to come here for a week or two.”

“I have to find a place here to work out.”

She handed him a card. “Here. I often send people to this gym. And if you’re only here for a short time, they’ll let you pay as you go, no membership.”

“Thanks.”

She examined him, pressing on various spots on his foot, which only hurt a little. He watched her slender, competent fingers holding his big ugly foot. Then she measured his range of motion and strength.

“Looks really good,” she said. “I’d say you’re healing well. You don’t need to use the crutches any more, but keep the walking boot for…” She looked at his chart. “Two more weeks. Weight bear as tolerated. If it gets sore, stay off it or use the crutches again for a while. Today we’ll get you started on some exercises for balance as well as strength and mobility.”

An hour later he was back on the sidewalk again, foot throbbing slightly, the no-longer-necessary crutches in one hand and the card for the local gym where he could work out tucked into his shirt pocket. He began making his way back to where he’d parked his rental car, but as he passed the coffee shop he decided to go in and have a coffee.

Inside he hopped up to the counter, eyes lifted to the menu on the wall behind. He wasn’t much into fancy coffee drinks, so when the girl offered to take his order, he shrugged and said, “A large cup of coffee. Cream and sugar.”

But when he looked at her, she looked…familiar. She looked back at him, too, as they each spent a couple of beats figuring it out. “Hey!” he said with a grin. “Neve! How are you?”

It was Matt’s little sister. He remembered Matt saying she was working in some coffee shop.

“Dylan! I’m good. I heard you were in town.”

“How’d you hear that?”

“Oh, you know how news travels in his place.” She grimaced.

“Yeah, I remember,” he murmured. He studied her. She’d been a little hellion as a teenager, a party girl, wild and in and out of trouble all the time. She’d driven Matt nuts. Now she was…what…three years younger than him and Matt, which would make her twenty-seven. Her hair was a long sweep of blonde, perfectly straight, her eyes heavily made up with dark makeup. A small barbell pierced her right eyebrow and a tiny diamond glittered on the left side of her nose.