Kelly Jamieson - Faceoff

The brightening light outside told her that the storm had long since gone and the sky was clear. She needed to get back to the cottage before people started getting up and realized she’d never come home. She started to flip back the edge of the sleeping bag, but Tag’s hand tightened on her stomach.

“Where’re you going?” he mumbled.

“Home. Before someone realizes I wasn’t there all night.”

He sighed and kissed her shoulder. “Damn.”

She gave a little huff of laughter. “I know.”

“I should get up and go for a run.”

“Good god, Tag. It’s five in the morning!”

“It’s good to go before it gets too hot. Come with me.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m going back to bed to sleep for a few more hours. Or six.”

He smiled against her skin. “Running’s good for you. You need more exercise.”

“I’d never keep up with you.”

“Okay, I’ll go again later. When you’re ready.”

“You’re insane.”

“I have to stay in shape. The off season isn’t for sitting around on my ass drinking beer.”

Warmth unfurled inside her and she touched his stubbly cheek. “As if you’d ever do that.”

“Seriously,” he muttered, rubbing his face into her palm. “You were trash talking me last night about getting old, but the truth is…I am.”

“You’re not old!”

“I’m not young either,” he said with a wry smile. “I have to work even harder than some of the young guys to be ready for training camp. And I swear every year it gets harder.”

“Oh Tag. You’re in amazing shape.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Why thank you. I like your shape too.”

They lay there smiling at each other, cocooned in a flannel-lined sleeping bag in the slowly brightening tent.

“I’ll take you fishing this afternoon,” he said.

She blinked. “Fishing?”

“Sure. In the boat.”

“Um…okay. Maybe we could bring Emily.”

“No.”

She lifted one eyebrow and he gave her a sexy grin. “Don’t get me wrong. Emily’s a doll. But I want to take you fishing…alone.”

Memories of other fishing trips with the guys flooded back, how she’d tried so hard not to be horrified by the poor fish wriggling with a hook in its mouth, how the poor fish had died, how the guys had taken gruesome pleasure in gutting and filleting the poor fish and then had expected her to eat it. She’d almost been in tears, but as usual, determined to be one of them, she’d made herself do it. She did not want to go fishing. But if it was with Tag…

“Okay.” She kissed him quickly, then slipped out and found her clothes, cool and slightly damp from the morning air. Ugh. She dressed, aware of his hot gaze on her as she did so.

“Wear that black bikini,” he said. She paused, then hid her grin as she ducked out of the tent and jogged across the wet grass.

“So where are the fishing rods?”

Tag had just steered the boat into a small bay a few miles up the shore from Crystal Beach. A patch of reeds waved lazily in the afternoon breeze, the sun glinting off the water. Kyla had moved to the back of the boat and stood there with one hand on the back of a seat, balancing in the rocking boat.

“I didn’t bring any.”

She looked at him over one bare shoulder. She’d worn the little halter-topped black bikini as he’d asked, but also wore a pair of loose black board shorts over it. They hung low on her hips, emphasizing the smooth curves of her waist.

“You didn’t bring fishing rods? How are we going to fish?”

“We’re not. I hate fishing.”

She gaped at him. “You hate fishing?”

He grinned. “I’m happy to eat all the pickerel the others catch, but it’s really not my favorite thing to do.”

“Then why did we come here?”

He just looked at her.

“Oh.” Her mouth curved. “Really? In the boat?”

He cut the motor and silence surrounded them, save for the soft slap of waves against the boat. “We’re alone,” he murmured, moving toward her. “That’s all I care about.”

She laid a hand on his bare chest and smiled up at him. “You are a bad, bad man.”

“I know.” He bent and kissed her. She wore some kind of fruity lip balm that tasted sweet and he licked her mouth. “I did however bring towels, blankets and extra sunscreen. We wouldn’t want you to burn any areas that aren’t…ahem…used to sun exposure.”

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink.

“We should probably take care of that first,” he continued, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen. “I kinda like putting sun lotion on you.”

“I kind of like it too,” she murmured.

“Take your top off.”

She blinked at him, then surveyed the area around them. They were completely alone. She bit her lip. “This is kind of…public.”

“There’s no one else here. We’ll hear a boat if someone comes.”

She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, then reached behind her for the fastener of the top. It loosened and she lifted it over her head. Tag’s breath stuck in his throat for a moment as he surveyed her naked, there in the boat, the sun gleaming on her dark brown hair, her skin smooth and golden, her breasts so firm and perfect. Her nipples puckered into tight brown points.

Tag’s dick had been half hard all day thinking about this and it hardened even more in his shorts. He squirted lotion into his hand, then rubbed his hands together before setting them on her chest. She gave a little moan as he massaged the cream into her breasts slowly, enjoying the slippery feel of soft flesh in his palms, the way her breath hitched as he rubbed over her nipples. There was something a little wicked about doing this out in the open in broad daylight.

“Pretty tits,” he murmured. “Very pretty. Now take off those shorts. And the bottom.”

Her cheeks even pinker, she unfastened the shorts and let them drop to the floor of the gently swaying boat. With her thumbs under the sides, she shimmied out of the bikini bottom and stood before him naked.

Ah holy hell. “Better do your back,” he muttered, squeezing out more sunscreen. He balanced his ass against the back of one of the seats and widened his stance to rub lotion into her back, all the way down to her sweet little butt. “Cute tan lines,” he commented. “You tan easily, don’t you?” She hadn’t had much color in her skin when she’d arrived a few days ago, all office-worker pale.

“I guess.” Her voice drifted in the afternoon sun, followed by a soft sigh of pleasure as he massaged her.

“Me too.”

“Do I get to put sunscreen on your ass?”

He chuckled. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

“Yay.”

He grinned, turned her to face him and finished off by rubbing cream onto her stomach and hips, as low as he could get, brushing over the little patch of dark curls. Fuck, this was turning him on unbelievably. “There you go. Should be good for a little while.”

She continued to cast apprehensive glances out at the water and he liked that she was a little on edge. That just added to the excitement. Although he had a feeling it didn’t matter where he and Kyla were, there’d be plenty of excitement.

He dropped his own shorts, exposing his throbbing cock to the sun and Kyla’s gaze and oh yeah, her touch. She reached for him immediately with both hands, looking at him with such awe and appreciation she made him feel like a god. He groaned.

“Oh yeah, sunscreen,” she whispered. He gave her his back and let her small hands rub him all over from shoulders and neck all the way down to the base of his spine where his skin prickled, and then lower. “Lean forward,” she directed him and he set his hand on the back of the seat and bent at the waist.