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“We could just play three-on-three,” suggested Ellie, pushing her sunglasses back up her nose.
“We’ll play.”
Dean swung his head around to see Dr. Mike and Ashley approaching. Ashley looked less than thrilled at joining in, but Mike led the way, stalking through the sand, his eyes fixed on Dean.
Well, wasn’t that interesting? Maybe the good doctor was having second thoughts about giving up Carly. With a smirk, Dean let him stare, glad that he and Carly had seen this charade through. Mike deserved to see what he’d walked away from, the moron.
The teams retreated to their courts, and Dean elbowed Carly on the way. “Dr. Mike’s jealous.”
“What?” She glanced over her shoulder. “He is not.”
“Is too. He’s been shooting daggers at me ever since he came over here. Watch. I bet he tries to take my head off.”
“That’s not his style.”
He shrugged, shooting her a “we’ll see” look. The sand was warm beneath his feet, the sun still climbing into the sky. From a nearby beach lounger, Christie’s grandma Rose waved, watching the players with interest. She wore a hot pink skirted bathing suit and sipped a fruit-adorned drink with an umbrella in it, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Dean, Luke, Matt, and Mike, none of whom were wearing shirts.
Mike served the ball over the net, a hard overhand drive aimed right at Dean’s head. He managed to back up just enough to get his hands under it, bumping it up to the front of the net. Matt jumped to tip it over, but Luke jumped at the same time, blocking the ball and stuffing it down.
Dean shot Carly a “see?” look, and she tipped her head, unable to deny the way Mike had sent the ball screaming at him.
Ashley served the next volley, a much friendlier underhand lob. Carly dove, sand kicking up behind her, bumping the ball up. Ellie jumped and spiked the ball over the net and into the sand at Luke’s feet, tying the game. Luke bent to pick up the ball as Dean wiped at the sweat starting to dot his brow.
“Oh, I like volleyball,” said Grandma Rose, sipping her drink.
What started out as a friendly game grew more competitive as they played, with the score going back and forth. Any time he had the chance, Mike aimed the ball right at Dean’s face. But Dean refused to react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. If he wanted to be an ass, so be it.
And while Dean wasn’t spiking the ball in Mike’s face, he did want to win. Badly. Because of the way Mike had hurt Carly, and to prove . . . something. He brushed away the thought and the confusing knot of emotions that came with it. Whatever. Didn’t matter.
Sweat dripped down his torso as he ran through the sand, dropping down to set the ball for Matt, who ran forward and spiked it over the net. But Ethan managed to get a hand under it, keeping it alive just enough for Luke to set it up against the net. Ashley ran forward, jumping to tip it over, but Carly jumped, blocking it. The ball dropped to Ashley’s feet.
“One more point and we win,” Matt called to Luke. Luke grumbled and tossed the ball back over to their side. The twins had always been competitive.
Dean moved to stand beside Carly at the net. Her skin was flushed, glistening with sweat. Her hair, thrown up in a messy ponytail, stuck to her face in damp tendrils.
Is that what she’d look like after sex? After hours in bed and multiple orgasms? Ever since he’d touched his lips to her neck, he hadn’t been able to shake the thought of getting Carly naked and underneath him. She’d tasted so good, warm and sweet, her skin soft under his lips. He hadn’t meant to take it as far as he had, hadn’t meant to get so swept up in it, but she’d been so responsive and had felt so good that he hadn’t been able to help himself.
Shit. He couldn’t let his mind go down that road, and not just because he didn’t want another raging salmon situation in his swim trunks.
From behind him, Ellie served the ball over the net. Luke returned it easily, bumping it back. Carly crouched low and set the ball up. Dean jumped and spiked it over the net, sending it into the sand at Dr. Mike’s feet.
Ha. Suck it, Dr. Mike.
Ellie and Matt whooped, and Carly jumped up from the sand. “Yes!” she cheered, throwing her arms around Dean’s neck in celebration. Instinctively, his hands went to her waist, and everything inside him went very still at the sensation of her hot skin against his.
Later, he’d tell himself it was because he knew Mike was watching them. But in the moment, he didn’t think. He simply dipped his head and caught Carly’s mouth with his. She let out a squeak, but didn’t pull away. Her lips softened against his, and he stroked his tongue along her bottom lip before breaking the kiss. Her breasts pressed into his chest as she sucked in a deep breath, as though that small kiss had stolen her air.
Slowly, she let her arms drop from around his neck, her fingers skimming over his arms. He tried to read what was in her eyes, but couldn’t, because even through the opaque lenses of her sunglasses, she looked as lost and confused as he felt.
“I . . . um . . .” She shook her head and then laid a hand on his cheek. Arching up onto her toes, she kissed him, deeper and sweeter than before, her tongue sliding against his. God, she tasted like sunshine and need, and his entire body tightened, his blood throbbing hotly through his veins. He slid one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, while he cupped her cheek with his other hand. With his thumb on her chin, he tilted her head back, just a little, just enough that he could take more of what he wanted. She sucked in a breath as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with long, slow sweeps of his tongue.
Fuck, but she tasted good. Perfect. Right. Like no one ever had before.
She broke the kiss, her chest now heaving, her nipples hard against his chest. “We probably shouldn’t, um . . .”
She was right, but he was a selfish asshole, and he needed more. So, he kissed her again, bringing his mouth back to hers for a hot, deep kiss. She moaned softly, her body melting instantly into his. He stroked a hand up and down her spine, savoring the feel of her pressed against him, the yielding way her lips parted for him, the soft warmth of her mouth under his, her taste, her scent. All of it. Someone let out a wolf whistle, but he didn’t care. He’d started out wanting to prove to Dr. Mike that she was his, but something had shifted, and now he only wanted to prove it to himself.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered against his mouth, and he pulled away. She stepped out of his arms and walked back toward her beach chair without a backward glance.
