The Wild Ones (The Wild Ones 1)

Trick in swim trunks and nothing else? Um, yes please!

“Okay.”

“Yay!” Jenna squeals. “I told you she’d be down.”

“You forgot to mention the best part, though,” Rusty says, playfully pinching her side making her giggle.

“Oh, yeah. To be more specific, Rusty and I think we ought to go skinny dipping in your pool.”

Thoughts of seeing Trick in the buff makes my cheeks flame and my stomach flutter with excitement. But that won’t be happening tonight.

“Jenna, we can’t. You forget that Drogheda is still here.”

“So. You know she sleeps like the dead.”

“She’d kill me, Jenna. We can’t take that chance.”

Jenna sighs heavily, like she’s so put upon. “Fine. Skivvies then. I didn’t bring a suit and neither did Rusty.”

I arch one brow. That’s a pretty convenient excuse. I turn to Trick. He holds his hands up.

“Don’t look at me. As long as your dad doesn’t find out, I don’t care either way. I don’t have trunks regardless.”

My mouth goes dry thinking about seeing Trick standing on the edge of my pool, water dripping off his body, his underwear plastered to his body. In some ways, that picture is far more appealing, partly because I can’t really imagine what he looks like na**d. I’m sure it’s glorious, though. Not that I’ve been looking, but his jeans fit pretty snugly in the crotch.

I look back at Jenna. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement and she’s nodding her head in encouragement.

“Come on, Cam! Live a little.”

“Fine, but we have to be quiet. Not a lot of splashing, okay? We’ll just cool off a little and then come back down here.”

Everyone agrees and, although I’m concerned about Drogheda finding us, I know deep down that she’d never do anything to hurt me. My secrets are always safe with her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - Trick

I can’t help but be a little worried that my dick is making decisions I really shouldn’t be going along with. Even as we’re walking up to the main house, I’m telling myself this is a mistake, that if we get caught and Jack finds out, I’ll be out on my ass. And that would be a disaster. But still, I follow Cami through the wrought iron gate that surrounds the pool.

She walks around the pool to the shallow end and stops. I stop beside her and we wait for Jenna and Rusty to catch up. They’re giggling and whispering the whole way.

From the corner of my eye, I see Cami fidget. At first, it appears to be a nervous thing. But when I glance at her, she looks at me and smiles. It’s a bright smile. Bright and …excited, which makes me think it’s not all bad nerves. In fact, it makes me twitch a little in my jeans, which is never a good thing when I’m getting ready to strip down in front of mixed company.

Without even pausing, Jenna pulls her shirt over her head then reaches for Rusty’s. While they’re all wrapped up in removing each other’s clothes, I turn more toward Cami.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She takes a deep breath and grins at me. “Yep. You?”

I nod. “Yep.”

She puts one small hand on my arm and looks me in the eye. “It’ll be fine, you know. Drogheda would never tell on me, so you don’t need to worry, okay?”

She’s worrying about me worrying? Now I feel bad for telling her how important this job is.

“I’m not worried,” I assure her. “I trust you.”

Her smile is sweet and pleased and it makes me want to kiss her. Hell, everything she does makes me want to kiss her.

“Good. You should.”

As if she’s making her point, Cami takes a few steps back and pulls her shirt over her head. She does it quickly and then holds it in front of her and waits. That’s my cue to shed a piece of clothing, too.

In the brightness of the full moon, I can see her eyes twinkling devilishly. She’s so coy. So damned adorably coy.

God, it would be so much fun to have her all to myself for one night. Just one night. Maybe that would be enough to get her out of my system.

“All right then, Mr. Rock Hard Abs, show me what you got,” she demands teasingly.

She doesn’t have to ask me twice! Grabbing a handful of shirt behind my neck, I pull it over my head. But I throw mine on one of the white lounge chairs, sort of like upping the ante a little. Her eyes flicker down my chest and stomach. My muscles tighten. I see her gaze drop lower then hurry back to my face. She’s curious. She wants to look, she wants to see what’s under my jeans, but she’s trying not to show it. I bite back a groan.

What I wouldn’t give to carry her off to someplace more private…

Slowly, she pulls her arms away from her chest and holds her shirt out by her fingertips then drops it onto a chair. I have to clamp my lips shut to keep my mouth from dropping open when I see the little purple scrap of lace that’s covering the most perfectly firm flesh I think I’ve ever seen. I can even see the outline of her nipples. The fact that they’re hard makes me want to squirm.

When I look up at her face, she isn’t smiling anymore. Her expression looks like I feel—hot and bothered and about as close as I’ve ever come to ripping someone’s clothes off.

She isn’t moving. She’s just staring at me. Like, right at me. Her eyes aren’t leaving mine. And there’s something about the intensity of her look that makes me feel like some kind of animal.

Just to tease her, I bend down and pull off my boots, kicking them to the side. My socks follow. I see her lips curve and she kicks off her own shoes and gives them a nudge. Then she’s watching me again, all serious and…hungry. It’s like we both know we’re getting down to business. And that excites me.

I reach for the button of my jeans and I pop it loose. Her eyes drop to my hands and I slowly slide the zipper down. My jeans hang a little on my hips, so when I let them go, they fall into a heap around my ankles. I step out of them and straighten to watch her look me over.

Her eyes start at my bare feet and move slowly up my calves and thighs. My balls tighten when she gets to my crotch. Her eyes stay there for a lot longer than what they should. It makes my pulse pick up speed.

Holy shit, that’s hot!

“I guess it’s a good thing I wore underwear today,” I say glibly, anything to break the tension. I’m not sure how much more I can take of Cami’s teasing torture and still act like a responsible adult.

Her eyes fly to my face and her mouth drops open. “You don’t normally?”

I shake my head. Even in the silvery light of the moon, I can see her cheeks darken. I know she’s blushing.

“Tonight is not a good night for you to be doing stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what?” she asks, a little breathlessly, which also turns me on.

Dammit!

“Stuff like looking me over as if you wanna lick every square inch of me and then blushing about it. It’s taking every bit of willpower I have and then some not to come over there and kiss you.”

“But you don’t want to do that.” I don’t know if it’s a statement or a question.

“Hell yeah I want to! But I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“I know. And I admire you for your…restraint.”

Before she even finishes the sentence, she’s biting her lip and tugging on the zipper to her shorts. She wiggles her thumbs under the waistband and shimmies her h*ps back and forth. But slowly, like she’s actually doing a strip tease. My mouth goes completely dry as I watch the material make its way down her slim legs.

When her shorts are pooled around her ankles, she steps out of them and flings them away. I notice she jacks her chin up a notch, like she’s not used to being on display but she’s determined to be cool about it. That makes it even sexier in my opinion.

The triangle of lace between her legs matches her bra. I don’t really much care either way. I’m as much as fan of white cotton as I am of sexy lingerie. I don’t pay any of it a lot of attention. I’m much more interested in what’s underneath.

Cami is built perfectly. At first I’m surprised that, with a body like that—long legs, tight stomach, curvy hips, narrow waist, awesome rack—she doesn’t wear more revealing clothes. But then, when I think of her personality, of what she’s really like, I’m not surprised at all. I’d say she’s picky about who sees her like this, and the fact that she saves it for a few select people makes me want her that much more.

“You do realize you’re perfect, right?”

She looks down, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. But not before I see the smile of pure pleasure pulling at her lips. I can’t help but wonder what things are like with that boyfriend of hers. Doesn’t he tell her how beautiful she is? Doesn’t he know how lucky he is to have a girl like this? To touch her whenever he wants to, probably with her daddy’s blessing?

Those thoughts bring a very unwelcome dark cloud to the night, so I put them out of my mind and make a point to keep things light. For both our sakes.

“Now, are you getting in or am I gonna have to throw you in?”

She looks confused at first, but then I see her face light up when she captures the mischief of the night.

That’s more like it.

Although it works to relieve the tension, in my head I know all she has to do is move the wrong way or touch me the right way and my rock hard willpower will crumble like day old bread.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - Cami

We play in the pool for a while. Believe it or not, Jenna and Rusty are fairly social, although I can tell they’d like nothing more than to be alone.

We talk about old cars and Rusty’s garage. We talk about horses and Rusty jokes about Trick being like the horse whisperer. We talk about the band and the fact that Trick can sing as well as play the guitar and the drums. That makes more sense now when I think about stumbling upon them playing make-believe instruments with Trick being the drummer.

“Did you tell her about your big dream?” Rusty asks Trick.

“Why do I ever tell you anything?”

“What? Was it a secret? You gotta tell me these things, man! How am I supposed to know?”

Trick rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. Now I’m intrigued and have to ask, “So, what is it? I thought you wanted to be a veterinarian.”

“I do. And I plan to. What Rusty’s talking about is more of a stretch than being a vet.”

When he doesn’t continue, I prompt him. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”

Trick raises one brow and my heart stutters in my chest. I wonder if he knows I’m almost to that point already. Only it has nothing to do with hearing his dream and everything to do with him kissing me.

“Not tonight,” he says softly.

I hear Jenna make a noise that’s a cross between a gasp and a snicker. I know which side she’s on. She’d love nothing more than for me to cut loose with Trick. I’m beginning to think I would, too.

“It has to do with a small herd of wild horses up around the Outer Banks.”

“Wild horses?”

“Yeah, some of them are from the original Spanish Mustang bloodline. They’d be incredible racers if they could be broken.”

I put two and two together. “And what? You want to try and break one?”

“You don’t have to sound so confident,” he teases.

“It’s not that, it’s just…well, I mean, has it ever been done? Has anyone ever broken one of the wild horses?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t think anyone’s ever tried to race one.”

“And you think you could do it?”

Trick looks right at me, his smile slow and assured. “Yeah, I really do. Some even say the wild ones are the best.”

I think of how far he’s come with Highland Runner, who was too wild even for Sooty. I’ve heard tales of people who have a special gift, a special connection to horses, so much so that they can ride and train almost any horse. Maybe Trick has…whatever it is. If he could do it, and the horse raced well, he’d make an instant name for himself in the horse racing world.

I return his smile. “You know, as crazy as it sounds, I really don’t doubt it.”

His smile widens and he winks. “Smart girl. You should never doubt me.”

“That’s true unless you’re doubting he’d steal your virtue,” Rusty says with a laugh. “He’s wilder than any of those damn horses.”

“You’re such a liar,” Trick punches Rusty in the arm. It’s playful, but I see him glare in a way that seems like a warning. In my head, there is definitely a warning there, and it’s duly noted. He turns to me. “He’s exaggerating. He exaggerates everything!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rusty asks.

“Nothing. I just want the ladies to know how to do anti-Rus math. Take any length he gives you, divide by two and subtract an inch. That’s much more accurate.”

Rusty flings himself out of the water and tackles Trick, shoving his head under the water. They both laugh, as do Jenna and I, but the unease is still with me. Is he really nothing more than a player? After only one thing?

Shortly after that, we get out of the water and head back down to the stable. Jenna is still teasing Rusty about his exaggerations.

“You don’t believe me, but when this guy used to play regularly with the band, the chicks would go wild! He was like a rock star.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Trick mutters with a chuckle.