“I always do.” She traced the waistband of his jeans and, hello, someone was definitely happy to see her. Cal bumped against her hand. She reached for the first button and popped it free.
“True.”
“I’m just planning on doing it a little differently tonight.”
“Piper.” There was her name again. She wiggled her fingers, just a little, more because he felt good and she couldn’t help but be aware of him beneath her palm. “We don’t have to do this. The bet was a joke, not a legally binding contract.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”
He braced his arms on either side of her on the sink, somehow managing to make her feel both secure and looked after. Those were new sensations for her, because she always took care of herself. Cal, on the other hand, looked after everyone. He made sure his friends and family—hell, the whole island—were safe and had what they needed. Apparently, he’d decided to include her in that number. She didn’t want pity sex but something else entirely. And, she’d admit it, she hadn’t misplaced her competitive spirit like she intended on misplacing her clothes.
If she was having sex with Cal, she was going to be the best he’d ever had.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said, but his voice sounded husky. Sexy, and the tug she felt was something else unexpected. Since when had she found Cal attractive?
Since always, the little voice in her head chimed in.
“So, you do want me?” She moved her fingers and discovered she could stroke the very tip of him. She slid her fingertips in a small circle, and he sucked in a breath. The tiny inhalation was a definite yes, right there.
“We don’t like each other.” He sounded a little desperate, so she popped a second button, giving herself more room to work with. More Cal.
“Nope. We drive each other crazy.” He was dead right.
It also wasn’t fair how gorgeous he was. To compensate, she unbuttoned his third button.
“But we did have a bet,” she said. “And I’ve never known you to renege on a bet.”
“I’m a man of my word.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she’d never been so grateful for a bet before. This wasn’t about winning or losing but about a chance to explore Cal. She had him for one wicked night—and then, because fair was fair and they’d both won or they’d both lost, depending on how you looked at it—she’d be his.
She could hardly wait.
“Off,” she ordered and he gave her what she wanted.
He slid a finger beneath the last button on his jeans—there was nothing sexier than a man in button-up jeans, where she could slide the tips of her fingers between the gaps, stroke him where he was hot and hard—until it gave. Cal was commando. And lip-lickingly gorgeous.
His dark eyes watched her, but she discovered, his control was an illusion. When she touched him, he made a rough sound of pleasure, which only encouraged her to do it again. And again. She loved the way the groan slipped out. She wrapped a palm around him, literally holding Cal in the palm of her hand. He might not like her, but he definitely wanted her, and she could work with desire. He wasn’t moving fast enough, though, so she tapped his hip, the little smack loud in the room. “Pick up the pace, Brennan.”
He grinned at her as he shoved his jeans down his legs, and his crooked half smile went all the way to his eyes. This close to him, she could make out the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. Huh. Maybe Cal had a bad boy in him, after all. Or she’d been too busy pushing his buttons to take a really good look. Or undoing his buttons.
“I’m all yours. Do your best,” he said.
His rough gasps and muttered curses were a power rush but also something more. She wasn’t thinking about the something more tonight, so she pushed those thoughts away. Instead, she scraped the nails of her free hand lightly over his stomach, enjoying the way the muscles there—and Cal had more than his fair share of muscles—jumped. He liked this, too. A lot.
With her other hand, she stroked the length of him as she cupped him. He groaned, something incoherent, half prayer and half her name. Lucky him—she’d barely gotten started. She leaned forward.
* * *
PIPER WAS A take-charge woman. Cal had discovered that indisputable fact when he was ten and nothing had changed in the twenty years since. What had changed was how much he liked it. Liked her.
Her mouth surrounded him, hot wet perfection that made parts of him howl with pleasure. The strangest thing, though, was that this was Piper. While he was no angel, he usually insisted on having some kind of relationship with a woman before they went to bed together. He hadn’t been holding out for a ring and happily ever after, but he hadn’t been into the casual hookup and bar scene, either. Nor did he think Piper was. Island gossip being what it was, he’d have heard if she’d made a practice of casual hookups.