His Marriage Pact. Kathie DeNosky
cleared his throat and shut down the ignition. “Didn’t know you had a swimsuit.”
“Actually, I didn’t either,” she said as she stood. “Jenny thought of everything.” Including massage oil and lubricants, a veritable sex shop in a bag.
“No surprise there,” he replied, his voice sounding somewhat grainy.
Paris realized she didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver, so she pointed to the enclosed hull. “What’s under there?”
“A live well to keep fresh bait and fish and a place to store equipment.” He climbed over the smoked glass minidash and stood on the decking to toss an anchor overboard into the murky green water. “You basically turn on the trolling motor and stand here to fish, but we’re going to stay stationary until you learn how to cast.”
“Or I could sunbathe,” she said as she retraced his steps and stood before him. “I can do that while we fish, right?”
“Not a whole lot of sun with all the trees, but whatever floats your boat, pun intended.”
She shimmied out of the shorts and tossed them back onto the seat, revealing the scant swimsuit bottoms. “I’m ready for a pole now.”
That earned her a wily grin. “I can fix you right up.”
“Fishing pole, Dallas.”
“I’ve got one of those, too.”
“You have an evil mind.”
“You have an unbelievable body.”
She felt a head-to-toe blush coming on, and the same old belief he’d simply been trying to be nice. “I bet you say that to all your first mates.”
He tucked one side of her hair behind her ear. “You’re technically my first mate.”
If only she could say the same for herself. If only she could erase Peter from her past and if only this arrangement with Dallas was real. “Well, I suppose we should start fishing before they stop biting.”
He stared at her a few moments before leaning over, opening a hatch and pulling out a rod. “I’ve got this rigged to catch a bass. I also have some blood bait for catfish if you’d prefer to try for one of those.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Any bait that includes blood in the name is out.”
“Good call, because it’s also known as stink bait.”
Ewww... “Definitely bass.”
“Bass it is. Now move to the edge of the boat.”
After she complied, Paris surveyed the wooded bank and noticed not a house, or soul, in sight. “How many people live on this lake?”
“Just me and George,” he said. “It’s a private lake.”
Of course it was. “So there’s no chance anyone will see me making a fool of myself?”
“Not likely.” Dallas came up behind her and handed her the pole with the little yellow frog-looking thingy dangling from the end. “Hold this in your left hand, and grasp the reel in your right.”
Simple enough. “Like this?”
“Yep. Now push that button with your thumb, pull the rod back to the side and let it go, but not over your head or you’ll hook me.”
She did exactly as he’d instructed, yet nothing happened. “I knew I wasn’t cut out for this.”
“I don’t mind helping you out.” He moved behind her, wrapped his hand around the rod below her hand and replaced her thumb on the release with his. “It’s just one smooth action,” he said as he cast the line in the water with ease.
He didn’t make a move away from her. In fact, Paris would swear he moved closer. “Okay. What now?”
He rested a palm on her belly and pushed her hair to one side with the other. “It’s a top-water jig, so the fish will hit it on top of the water.”
“How long does that take?”
“Until the fish decides to bite.”
When Dallas rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue, Paris almost dropped the pole. “So it might take a while.”
“Probably not.”
After Dallas dropped his arms from around her, Paris glanced back to find he’d removed his shirt. And oh, what a sight to behold. He had a board-flat belly and a chest that wouldn’t quit. “Hot already?”
“Lady, you have no idea how hot.”
She had a sneaking suspicion she might soon find out when he came back to her and began kissing her neck again. “What are you up to, Dallas Calloway?”
He moved flush against her back. “Pay me no mind and watch your line, in case you get a bite.”
“Aren’t you going to fish?”
“Maybe later. I have something I’d rather do at the moment.”
Paris held her breath when he tugged the string at her neck and unclasped the strap at her back. Now the bikini top lay in a pool at her feet and she found herself exactly where she’d been last night—naked from the waist up.
“Dallas, are you sure no one will see us?” Her voice sounded tinny, thanks to the cowboy’s hands roving over her breasts.
“George left for Kerrville this morning to visit his mother.” He feathered more kisses along her neck. “Besides, the possibility of getting caught makes this a little more exciting.”
Her legs began to shake like a leaf in the breeze. “Any more excitement and I might actually not be able to stand.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall. Just relax.”
Relaxing proved to be impossible when his palm came to rest on her midriff and began to drift lower...and lower. “What are you doing now?”
“Scratching your itch.”
When he slipped his hand beneath her bathing suit bottoms, Paris was powerless to stop him. When he began to stroke her softly, she could no longer hold onto the fishing pole. After she dropped it on the deck, she reached back and wrapped her hand around his nape to ground herself. She briefly envisioned how this would look to a passerby—him with his hand down her pants and her in the throes of a sexual frenzy—and that only amplified her need for release.
In a matter of seconds, her pulse accelerated and her respiration picked up speed as the impending climax began to build. The orgasm slammed into her hard with a series of strong spasms that seemed as if they went on forever. She literally shook from the force of it and Dallas, as if he sensed she might not remain upright, turned her into his arms and kissed her.
She came back to reality slowly and broke the kiss to tip her forehead against his shoulder. “Wow.”
“Been a while, has it?”
“Try never. At least not with Peter.”
He set her back and stared at her. “He never got you off?”
She shook her head. “Sadly no, because he really didn’t try, or care. And go ahead and say it. I’m a fool for staying with him as long as I did.”
His expression turned somber. “Then why did you?”
“Because I’d convinced myself I couldn’t do any better.” An admission she’d not made to herself, much less to another soul.
He hugged her for a few moments then pulled away to study her eyes. “Sweetheart, you deserve better. You deserve to have a lover who takes care of you first and puts himself second. That’s the way a man should treat his woman, especially a woman as special as you.”
His woman? Once upon a time she would have made a snide