Chapter Six
Wyatt swept his mouth over Belle’s, the stubble on his chin scratching her skin and the heat of his body surrounding her.
Her heart did a weird little squeeze. One it hadn’t indulged in for a long time. It was pleasant, more than pleasant. It held the promise of excitement, pleasure, and male-and-female connection.
But as Wyatt pulled back, that familiar sense of doom gripped her belly. She’d been lied to, an endless string of untruths, and the pain and disappointment of that couldn’t be wiped out by a quick kiss from a near stranger, no matter how sexy he was.
“Come on.” He gestured to the Pacific. “Let’s go. The game has worked in our favor.”
She glanced out. Apart from a couple of sailboats heading north in the distance, they had this section of ocean to themselves. It was the wide-open expanse she’d been dreaming of. Freedom. Room to breathe, to stretch … to just be.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Five minutes later, Wyatt had the Jet Ski in the shallows with the engine running. He climbed aboard. “Hop on.”
“On one condition.” She placed her hands on her hips.
“What?”
“I don’t want to fall off.”
“You won’t.” He grinned.
“I mean it.” She narrowed her eyes. “I have a phobia about sharks, jellyfish, stingrays, all those critters that might want to take a bite out of me.”
“There’s nothing like that out there.” He gestured to the dark water. “Promise.”
“Big tits don’t make me dumb.” She raised her eyebrows. “And I know they’re out there, and they’re hungry.”
“I know you’re not dumb.” He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. “Those titties do make you pretty damn cute though. Come on. Get on. Let’s go.”
“You promise I’m not going in?”
“Promise on my sister’s life.”
“Do you even have a sister?”
He laughed. “Probably, somewhere. Dad was a bit of a lothario.”
Huffing, she waded into the water. Cool splashes peppered her thighs.
“It’s easy, just like a bike,” he said. “Hang on to me.”
For a moment she hesitated, her attention on theDevil Barbarian Until I Dietattoo filling his back. It was one she was familiar with, and far from the grim reaper with its skull face and eye sockets full of flames creeping her out, it gave her confidence. Why wouldn’t it? Every man who’d ever looked out for her—her Pa, her brother, Teddy—all had the exact same one.
“Okay.” She climbed onto the soft sea-sprayed seat and wound her arms around his lean waist. “Let’s do this.”
“You’re good?”
“Yeah.”
The Jet Ski vibrated beneath her as it roared. Water spurted from behind it, a huge white arc of seawater propelling it forward.
And then they were bouncing over the cresting waves, taking them head-on.
Belle squealed and held tighter.
The front of the ski tipped upward, as though reaching for the sky. As it dipped down, Wyatt leaned back, counterbalancing.