Page 8 of Joel
Kylie: And that’s an order.
Fuck me, I’m so damn turned on right now.
It’s lust.
Very strong lust.
But I plan to enjoy the hell out of it while I can. With any luck, none of the J-Squad will catch wind of this. I just want to enjoy Kylie, without the peanut gallery trying to convince me it’s more than some good old-fashioned adult fun.
Joel: You’re giving me orders now?
Kylie: Yep. Better get used to it.
Could this woman get any hotter? I pull on a T-shirt, grab my keys, and head out the door in my wet neon orange swim trunks.
Joel: I hope you can put your money where your mouth is, because I’m on my way over to pick you up.
Kylie: Oh I have plans for this mouth.
Kylie: Plans you’ll thoroughly enjoy!
5
KYLIE
I diga neon orange bikini out of my suitcase, one I bought while in Costa Rica on a treasure hunting job last summer but have never been brave enough to wear, and toss it on the bed.
I should probably hide the maps, articles, and other damning evidence before Joel arrives, but I focus instead on stripping out of my clothes so I can change. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees me in the bright orange color he seems to favor so much. Hell, even his truck is orange.
I’ll put the maps up in a minute. Having to admit to Joel that I’m a treasure hunter who’s been up to illegal activities in the waters he protects might dampen the mood. And the only thing I want dampened are my bikini bottoms before Joel takes them off—preferably with his teeth.
I’m tugging off my panties when I hear my phone chime.
A half smile lifts one corner of my mouth. I wonder what dirty response my coastguardsman has typed out. For a man I just met, I’m really enjoying the easy, sexually charged banter between us. It’s almost a shame I’ll be leaving at the end of the week.
Is it stupid to hook up with a man who could get me in a serious amount of trouble?
Yes. Yes, it is.
But tonight, I feel like playing with fire.
It’s just one night, anyway.
I pick up my phone, but it’s not Joel’s name on the screen.
It’s Todd.
Fuck.
Todd: Call me.
My shoulders instantly stiffen at the message. God I can’t wait to be out from under his fucking thumb. But if I want this treasure hunt to be the one that frees me, I can’t ignore him.
I pull on an oversized T-shirt, and hit the call button.
“Can you make this quick, Todd? I have to?—”
“The fucking Coast Guard?” Todd shouts over the phone. His voice is so loud and high pitched that I pull it away from my ear and put the call on speakerphone. He’d be so pissed if he knew. Never mind that I’m in a private hotel room that boasts thickly insulated walls for quiet and relaxation. My stepfather is the most paranoid man I’ve ever met.
