Risking It All

The DEA would have his ass if he messed this up now, and his CO would take the rest and stomp it if Cash allowed a traceable image of himself on film that was possibly distributed worldwide.

He didn’t remember being filmed yesterday, but then again, when he was being pulled into some of the biggest waves Pipe had to offer, he was more concerned with getting his adrenaline rush and coming out in one piece. Because his CO would kill him if he came back from vacation hurt. And really, he could understand that, since his job necessitated that he be ready for action at a moment’s notice.

Still, putting himself—and keeping himself in danger was all part of the game to keep him sharp, to let the fear find him so he could conquer it over and over. He liked to meet life head on on a daily basis, to stay busy enough so he didn’t have to think about the one thing he refused to meet head on.

Besides, it would be too big of a blow to his pride to let a wave—or anything else—take him down. He’d been battling them, and the stormy past they represented, for a while now, and as long as he could keep his head above water, he was winning.

And he was all about winning.

“Hey, can you take us to shore? There’s someone I’ve got to find,” he said to the captain of the small boat even as he muttered something about now he hated having a goddamned conscience under his breath. The day had been a bust, anyway. Nothing to see out here but waves, and unfortunately, waves weren’t the only thing he had left to find.

“I thought we were surfing,” Mike said, once Cash was through having the conversation with himself, and the boat had turned around. The salt sprayed their faces as the craft picked up some serious speed.

“We are,” he said. “You’re just going to do it for the camera today.”

RINA HADN’T BEEN ABLE to do anything at all with the film. She’d worked through the better part of the night before she’d finally given in and slept with her head down on her arm on the console, then woken up with marks from her watch on her cheek and a bad attitude. She’d tried to fix the video with a determination she hadn’t even known she’d possessed. But, in the end, even Stella, normally her biggest cheerleader, had to admit that it just wasn’t good enough.

Rina knew she was going to have to reconfigure the whole thing, and that she and Stella would need to choose something else to send in with the grant proposal. None of the other men fit in with the theme of hero as well as Cash had, and she shook her head at the irony of that, especially since her hero turned out to be some kind of shady character.

Typical.

Five days in Hawaii and her one trip to the most beautiful beaches on earth had turned into a complete and utter disaster.

Stella had eventually dragged her away from the editing room, forced her to shower and put on something fun and cute. And then they’d gone to dinner, but ended up with an hour’s wait at most places, and settled in at the nearest bar instead.

“You’d better slow down, or you’ll never be able to fix that film in the morning before we leave,” Stella told her. But Rina batted her friend’s back away when she tried to take away the Mai Tai.

The third, very strong Mai Tai she’d had over the course of two hours. “Stel, maybe if you talked to him…”

“From what you said, he sounded pretty adamant about it.”

“But you’re his type.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re every man’s type. Tall. Thin. Blo-o-o-ond.” She strung out the last word and Stella laughed.

The two women looked as opposite as night and day, and Rina often bemoaned Stella’s tall, slim figure while she had to work to keep her own curves under control. Stella also had long, blond hair and deep green eyes that had men drooling after her. Rina had always done fine with her share of guys, but if Stella wasn’t such a good friend, she might seriously hate her.

“It was your job to convince him. Besides, you seemed very proprietary,” Stella reminded her.

“Not anymore,” she said. “Not when he’s an arrogant, obnoxious, ‘look at me I’m a surfing God’—”

“Talking about me?”

She almost fell off the stool when she heard that low, sexy “do it to me baby” voice behind her.

Hold it together, she told herself firmly. You don’t owe this guy a thing.

“Not everything is about you,” she said, turning to look up into his eyes. Big mistake. That electric current she’d felt running between them was still there and strong, and yes, it certainly was all about him because he looked just as good dry.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Cash said, and when did his eyes get bluer?

“Can I help you with something?” she asked finally.

“Actually, this arrogant, obnoxious, surfing God is here to help you,” he said.

“You’ve already done enough,” she said. “We had a fight,” she told the dark-haired man standing next to Cash.

“Who won?” the man asked, and Rina reluctantly pointed a finger at Cash, who shook his head and looked up toward the sky as if some divine intervention could save him from all of this.

“Mike, this is Rina,” Cash said.

“Mike, your friend ruined my video and threatened to call my boss,” she said, and noted that Stella watched the whole scene with growing amusement.

“She doesn’t seem that uptight to me,” Mike said to Cash.

“You told him I was uptight?”

“You are uptight. Too much city and not enough of the beach in you,” Cash explained.

“And I suppose you’re the man to change all that, right? The one to set me on the path to a Zenlike relaxation, beginning with what? I’d bet you’d suggest a mind-blowing orgasm,” she said, before she could stop herself, because the Mai Tai’s were in control now.

Funny thing, Cash didn’t seem to mind a bit. And she wanted him to mind, although she wasn’t sure why.

Note to self—no sleep plus Mai Tais does not equal a great combination.

“She won’t remember this come morning, so I’ll tell you,” Cash addressed Stella.

“Yeah, that’s it. Talk to the blonde,” Rina muttered. Stella kicked her shin lightly, and Mike looked amused by the whole thing. “Well, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you,” she said to Cash, who threw her one last scowl before shifting his attention to Stella.

“Your cameraman’s Zoot, right? Purple hair?”

“Yes, that’s him,” Stella said.

“Well, I had him film some footage of Mike, the man who taught me everything I know about big-wave surfing. I had Zoot show me what he’d shot of me and we tried to recreate it, using Mike, so Rina, the non-blonde with the attitude over here, wouldn’t have too much work to do.”

“Wow. That’s great of you.” Stella turned to her. “Did you hear that? This could really work.”

“It won’t be the same,” Rina replied, even as Stella and the other surfer began talking about release forms.

“Hey, it’s the best I could do,” Cash told her. He then murmured something about stubborn women never being satisfied, and walked off into the crowd.

Even in her Mai Tai haze, she knew she owed him an apology. He didn’t have to find a replacement, didn’t have to seek her out at all. But why he did…now that was worth finding out.

“Hey!” she called over the crowd that was gathered at the door to the bar. He didn’t acknowledge her and she was forced to half chase him through the parking lot. “Cash, please wait,” she said.

He finally turned, so fast she kind of crashed against him. “You smell good,” she whispered, from where her nose was buried against his shirt. Smelled like sun, sand and beach, and she’d bet he tasted like the beach, too, all hot and tangy and salty.

“That’s what you followed me out here to say?”

She lifted her head. “No. I wanted to apologize.”

“By smelling me?”

“By telling you I’m sorry,” she said, backing away from him.

“I’m not sure if that’s how they give apologies up north, but I’ve got to say, as apologies go, that’s probably the worst one I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the way it happens up north, so take it or leave it,” she said.

“Guess I’ll leave it then.” He turned to go, but she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, suddenly dizzy from the walk and the alcohol. Things seemed to be spinning when all she wanted was for everything to hold still. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t want to go back in there,” she told him. Cash really shouldn’t care. He sighed, looked up at the sky as if that would offer him some way out of all this. She looked up, too. “That’s a beautiful sky.”

“Surfing’s going to kick ass tomorrow,” he said. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”

He took her by the elbow, mainly because she’d started walking in the opposite direction from the hotel and together they strolled the two blocks, taking the beach route instead of the road.

She followed his lead, kicked off her shoes once they hit the beach, and she liked the way the cool sand moved between her toes. Liked it so much that she just stopped and flexed her toes.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“This just feels nice. I haven’t gotten to the beach much this trip.”

“Except to yell at me.”

He took her arm and they began to move forward, the sound of the waves rushing toward shore in the background, the cool air blowing her hair back and her skirt around and everything felt so good. Heightened.

“Speaking of yelling, in the film, you were fighting with some guy. Something about dropping in.”

He laughed. “Saw me at my best, did you?”

“You were really pissed.”

“I guess you’d recognize that emotion,” he teased. “Dropping in’s when someone jumps into the wave you’re already riding. Screws the ride up majorly, and there’s nothing that ticks me off more than someone who can’t wait their turn.”

“Why did you make that new tape for me?” she asked. He looked at her for a second before he answered, the look that made her body tingle and her blood heat.

“Because it seemed important enough to you.”

“It was,” she said quietly.

“But you don’t think it’ll work.”

She couldn’t lie. “He’s not you, Cash. It’s hard to explain but, when I watched you on the video, you were flying. Does it feel like that?”

“Yeah, it does. You’re weightless, suspended between time and space and even though you’re balancing, your feet are moving out from under you. Like no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to be fully in control, and that’s pretty damned cool.”

He stared off toward the waves as he spoke, at the water crashing against the shore with a pounding, intense rhythm that seemed a lot like Cash himself. The sensations vibrated through her entire body.

She wanted to stay angry at him for ruining her film, but the way he sounded when he talked about surfing wouldn’t let her. It was the way she imagined she must sound when she talked about her passion for filmmaking.

“You love surfing,” she said finally.

“Yes.”

“Then I still don’t get it.”

“Why I won’t sign the release?” he asked, and she nodded. “My future depends on it. Same as yours. And don’t ask me to explain.”

“Fine. But I think you like being mysterious, just as the people at the surf shop said.”

“And I still think you need to relax a little more,” he informed her. “What, exactly, did the people at the surf shop tell you about me?”

“They said you were some kind of criminal or trust fund baby or something. And that all women were your type,” she repeated. They’d paused in front of the stretch of Oceanside hotel rooms and she stared at one door then another because everything looked a little fuzzy.

Cash grinned. “Not all women,” he said, but he didn’t deny the rest.

“I think you need to know that I don’t get involved with bad boys like you,” she told him. Even poked him in his big, broad chest a few times to bring her point home.

His hand closed around hers, held it. She liked the power in his grip, decided that she might want to feel those hands on other parts of her body, too.

“Well, that’s good, since I don’t get involved with good girls.”

“How do you know I’m a good girl?” she asked.

“Trust me. I know.” He caught her arm when she pitched forward. “Come on, now. Let’s get you to your room safe and in one piece.”

“I’m not inviting you inside,” she insisted, even as she fumbled in her bag for the key. And he was standing so close that suddenly, she didn’t want to be the damned good girl anymore.

“You don’t even seem to know which room is yours,” he said. “I think I should take you back to your friend at the bar.”

“Why? So you can prove to everyone how uptight I am?”

“Now that didn’t even make sense,” he said.

“And neither does this.” She planted her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up on tiptoe so that she could kiss him. Really kiss him.

He grabbed her around the waist, held her against him and deepened the kiss. She didn’t want him to ever stop. And when the rough rasp of his tongue played with the soft, sensitive underside of hers, she moaned into his mouth and tightened her grip on his hair.

Eventually, he pulled away, she bit her bottom lip and tried to calm her breathing, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not when he was holding her so close to him.

“Are you still not inviting me in?” he asked.

She searched her bag again and came up empty. “I don’t have a key,” she announced. “All my keys are gone.”

“Does your friend have a copy?”

“We’re not sharing a room,” she murmured. “I guess I’d better go to the front desk and get a new key.”

“Are you sure this is your room?” he asked.

“Yes, this is it.”

He moved her aside and fiddled with the doorknob for half a second before the door opened. She stared between it and him. “You are a criminal, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Don’t ask things you don’t really want answers to,” he said. Then he picked her up, crushed his mouth against hers and took them both inside the room.

4

INSTINCT TOLD CASH to take Rina’s keys, the ones he’d swiped easily on the walk to the hotel, and leave. However, the current brains of the operation were pressing solidly against her hip and let him know in no uncertain terms that Cash wasn’t going anywhere fast.

He dropped the keys outside the door for Justin to grab and knew he’d never hear the end of it when they didn’t meet up later. But Justin could easily get the tapes from the production offices by himself, and right now, Cash wasn’t ready to let this woman go. That, any man could understand.

He closed and locked the door behind them, put Rina down on the end of the king-sized bed and pulled her to him. But he didn’t kiss her again. Not right away.

Again, not his style. Normally, he liked hard and fast, no rules and no talking, but the way Rina watched him, her alcohol-fueled bravado fading quickly, he knew he had to slow down. Wanted to, even, and he wondered what the hell was going on here.

“I’m not your type,” she whispered, but he noticed she didn’t move away from him, fit against his chest better than most.

“I know. And I’m not yours, remember?”

“I’m not very experienced.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “When was the last time you just let it all go?”

“In bed?”

“In bed, in life,” he murmured and she bit her bottom lip in concentration. Before he spoke again, he cupped her chin in his palm and forced her to meet his eyes. “If you’ve got to think about it, it’s been too long.”

She couldn’t argue with him. “So, you’re my big chance?”

“Yeah, guess I am.”

“This is only for one night,” she said.

“Does that mean we’re done talking?” he asked, right before he put his mouth back on hers and kissed her until she kissed him in earnest, the way she had outside the door when she’d been beyond caring about anything. His mouth traced the path down her neck toward her collarbone, and he took a few seconds to work his tongue along that magic area behind her ear, the one that made Rina squirm under him as his fingers found the buttons on her top.

After a moment of debate, he turned her gently away from him and onto her stomach because she kept ducking her face into his neck as if she couldn’t bear to look at him as he exposed the lace bra she wore underneath her sheer top.

“You’ve got to loosen up, baby,” he murmured, and rubbed her bare back between her shoulder blades as he trailed kisses on her neck. “Time to let vacation mode take you over.”

“I’m not on vacation,” she said.

“Everyone’s on vacation in Hawaii. Trust me.”

“I’m working.”

“Too hard. Much too hard. You’ve got to find some time to play,” he said as his fingers trailed along her spine, traced a buttock and then moved to her inner thigh. When he touched her through the fabric of her lace panties, her mouth opened and a small moan escaped. And when his fingers worked their way under the fabric, he watched as her hands clutched the pillow in response.

He freed her from her bra and shirt completely so that her nipples rubbed the soft cotton of the sheets as her hips began to rock under his touch, faster and faster until she begged, “Please, Cash, please stop.”

“Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“Then why would you want me to stop?” he asked. His fingers moved faster against her, his free hand reaching around underneath her to pull her hips slightly up and forward off the mattress.

He traced circles around her clit, wanting to give her a quick first release so she could stop worrying about everything else and just concentrate on feeling good. And when her hips began to rock faster than the pace he’d set and her shoulders loosened, he knew he had her.

She sounded beautiful when she came, half whimpering with his name on her lips. And then he turned her because he’d wanted to touch her breasts from the second he’d seen them in that bikini she’d worn on the beach yesterday, had wanted to have his way with her nipples until she screamed for more.

One nipple, sucked between his teeth, and she was begging again, even as he worked her underwear off completely. Her fingers wound in his hair and yeah, he was in heaven or damned near close to it. And she’d stopped worrying, evidenced by her moaning his name over and over, rubbing against him, and letting it all go.

Why it was so important to him was something he didn’t plan on investigating right now.

Speaking of investigating, his cell phone was vibrating in his pocket. He nuzzled against her neck while he took it out of his pocket and snuck a peek at the screen. The number came up as unknown, just like he’d figured. None of his teammates ever used a listed number and he never programmed the numbers into his phone. Everything from memory was the motto drilled into him from the earliest training he’d had in covert ops.

She pushed him onto his back while he considered answering his phone, only because he was technically still on the clock. But then she straddled him and smiled and oh, yeah, that decision was made for him. He threw the phone down on the floor, wondered what she’d do if he picked her up and carried her outside, right out onto the beach or even the small patio attached to her room, and made a mental note to try that out after she came again.

“YOU’RE UP TO SOMETHING,” Rina accused, right after Cash threw the phone to the ground, because he had a gleam in his eye and one corner of his mouth tugged up slightly.

He didn’t argue, but he didn’t answer her, either. Instead, he put his hands behind his head and waited, watched her, his eyes trailing over her body.

For a split second, her shyness came back full force, but she knew she wouldn’t have another chance like this one again. Whatever pull this surfer had over her was going to end when the plane pulled off the runway tomorrow, and she was on it. So, she’d take her fantasy now, thank you very much.

There was something so incredibly wanton, so freeing, about being naked against his fully clothed body. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed the back of her bare thighs, the center of her body pressed against his shaft as the weight of her body pinned his against the bed, letting her take claim over him. She let herself go, just the way he wanted her to.

“Take this off,” she ordered, then started to unbutton his shirt from the bottom and he helped her finish the job. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and she ran her hands over his bare chest even as his fingers brushed her already taut nipples.

She moaned, leaned forward and murmured his name against his mouth. She moved her hands down to his waist and started to unbutton his jeans as her mouth played with his, nipping his bottom lip and pulling it between hers before she couldn’t help but move in for some deep kisses.

When she put her hands between his legs, he groaned against her mouth and she knew she had to explore every inch of him. She slid her hands inside the opened zipper and touched him, moved her hands up and down his long, hard length without fully freeing him.

And when neither of them could stand the slow bump-and-grind anymore, she rolled to the side and helped him strip off his jeans because she wanted him inside her.

He eased her back, covered her body with his and spread her legs. He pushed inside of her, gently at first, more firmly when she grabbed him and began to thrust back against him.

“Rina,” he groaned as he arched his neck while she hooked her ankles around his lower back, wanting him deeper.

“So good,” she whispered, more to herself than to him, although the way he looked at her after she’d said it made her turn inside out. “Knew you’d be so good at this. Knew from the way you looked on the video.”

“You liked watching me ride the waves?”

“I’m going to like watching you ride me better.” she said, and he groaned again, louder this time. One hand cupped the smooth curve of her ass while he used the other, palm down on the mattress, to steady himself above her.

God, he was big and she was tight. Very tight, and it felt so much better than she remembered. Probably because it had never been that good—except in her dreams.

This was no dream. And, watching Cash poised above her, the muscles in his arms sleek with sweat and straining as he kept them both in motion and oh, she would never let him stop.

Who cared about videos and X-treme sports and grants? Who cared about anything but her arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, his thumb reaching down to hit the spot that most men ignored in favor of their own pleasure.

Cash didn’t seem to be finding any shortage of his own pleasure, either. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head back, and the smile on his face told her that he was having as good a time as she was.

When he picked her up, mid-stroke, and carried her outside to the terrace, she didn’t bother to protest. She stayed wrapped around him on the lounge chair, let the night air waft around her and her cries mingle with the sounds of the ocean rolling in to shore.

“THAT’S MY KIND OF APOLOGY,” he murmured against her neck hours later, his skin damp against hers, from sweat and salt water and, oh, yeah, that was amazing. More so because Rina hadn’t known what she wanted—instead, she’d just wanted.

The sex had been hot and sweet. And he had to get out of there before he found out that she was engaged or married or something, even though he knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And that might prove to be even more dangerous than anything else that had happened to him.

“Aren’t you a little bit sorry you didn’t sign the release?” she said out of nowhere, pulling him right back into reality. Justin was sure to kill him.

“Not at all,” he said. He pulled the sheets around her because he noticed her shivering slightly. She hadn’t wanted to come in from the patio, wanted to sleep under the stars, but he’d insisted on bringing her back to bed.

And now, he didn’t want to leave.