Surf's Up Read online

Page 6


  “You’ve been busy,” he said with a grin.

  “I still need to set the Padparadsha, of course.” Using jewelry tweezers, she picked up the expensive gemstone and held it against the center prongs, giving him an idea of what the finished product would look like. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s going to be amazing.” He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and untied the sash around her waist, his mouth inches from her ear. “Just like you are.”

  She placed the brilliant sapphire back on the velvet pouch on the table, then turned around in his embrace, her robe gaping open to reveal a low-cut, lace-trimmed teddy that was sexy as hell. “You don’t need to flatter me to get lucky.”

  God, she was beautiful, and he was already hard with wanting her. “It’s not flattery, sweetheart,” he said as he brushed his knuckles across the upper swells of her breasts, which caused her nipples to tighten against the pale pink silk. “It’s the absolute truth.”

  Her eyes blazed with pure temptation as she flattened her hands on his chest, curled her fingers into his cotton T-shirt, and gave it a playful tug. “I’m about two seconds away from ripping off your clothes and taking advantage of you.”

  That’s all Shea needed to hear to take Claire into the bedroom so she could have her way with him, and he had her there in record time. She shrugged out of her robe as he yanked his T-shirt over his head, then took off his shoes and socks. She shimmied out of her panties, and he went for the fastening on his jeans, but she stepped close and pushed his hands away before he had the chance to get them undone.

  Her fingers toyed with the top button before skimming down the length of his fly. Brazenly, she cradled his fierce erection in her palm and gently nipped at his lower lip with her teeth. “I want to take off your jeans,” she said as she stroked him slowly through the denim.

  Groaning at the snug fit of her hand squeezing his shaft, and the aggressive way she was taking control of tonight’s seduction, he relinquished the task to her.

  She unbuttoned his pants, slid the zipper down over his bulge, then slipped her hands under the waistband and pushed his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. His thick, aching cock sprang free, and she touched him lightly, briefly—just enough to tempt and tease and cause the fire in his groin to surge hotter—before pushing him backward a few steps until he was sitting on the bed. She knelt in front of him, removed the last of his clothes, then pushed his knees wide apart so she could move in between.

  She looked up at him, licked her lips, and skimmed her cool hands up his thighs until she held the most masculine part of him in her hands. Her thumb traced the throbbing vein leading up to the swollen tip, and he sucked in a sharp, unexpected breath when her finger slipped through the slick moisture gathering there and rubbed it over and around the sensitive head.

  Then, lashes falling to half-mast, she leaned into him and trailed soft, hot kisses along his chest, lapping her tongue over each of his taut nipples. His pulsing shaft was nestled between the pillow of her breasts and rubbed sensually against the silk of her teddy whenever she moved. Between the damp lips gradually making their way lower, and the erotic, mind-blowing sensations against his cock, he thought he’d died and gone to the sweetest kind of heaven.

  But that pleasure was nothing compared to the soft, wet warmth of her mouth enveloping him, the swirling caress of her tongue, and the suctioning pull threatening to make him erupt. Added to that, he dared to look into the mirrored closet door across from the bed, dared to watch his private liaison with Claire play out like their own steamy, X-rated flick.

  He let himself enjoy her ministrations as long as he could without coming, but could feel the need quickly cresting beyond his control. Wanting to be buried deep inside her when he climaxed, he speared his fingers through her hair and gently eased her away.

  “I need a condom,” he rasped, and she opened the nightstand drawer and gave him one.

  Quickly and efficiently, he rolled on the protection, but before he could take charge and drag her beneath him, she was pressing him back on the bed and crawling over him on all fours. Her hands were braced on either side of his shoulders and her knees were pressed against his hips—the only part of her that was touching him. With a come-hither look in her eyes, and her silk teddy skimming her curves, she looked like a sexy nymph from his wildest dreams.

  Except everything about this woman was real. Her allure. Her passion. Her hunger. And it was all for him.

  He reached down and slid his hand between her open thighs, finding her warm and creamy and turned on, just from pleasuring him. Absolutely incredible, he thought, and stroked her intimately, deeply, just to heighten sensations and coax her closer to orgasm. Before long, her blue eyes glazed with desire, her lips parted on a soft moan, and her fingers clutched at the covers on the bed beside him.

  She was ready, and so was he.

  Skimming his hands up the back of her thighs, he grabbed the hem of her teddy and pulled it up and off of her, so that she was just as naked as he was. He caressed her breasts, lightly pinched her nipples until she gasped, then took her waist in his hands and guided her down until the tip of his shaft penetrated the entrance to her body. He slid in an inch, felt her clench around him, and left the rest up to her.

  “Take me, Claire,” he urged huskily. “Take all of me.”

  Flattening her hands on his belly, she dropped her head back with a breathy, arousing purr of sound as she pushed down, accepting every inch he had to give, until she was finally, completely, seated on his cock and he had no idea where he left off and she began.

  Then she started to move, her hips rocking and gyrating against him, on top of him, in a slow, uninhibited lap dance that pulled him deeper with each roll of her hips. She arched into him, took her own breasts in her hands, and pleasured herself while he watched.

  The provocative sight shoved him toward that fine edge of restraint, and he instinctively drove his hips higher, harder, in counterpart to her languid thrusts. His entire body shuddered as she continued to ride him, his eyes rolled back, and a low growl rumbled up from his throat. She felt so fucking good, so hot and tight. A perfect fit in every way.

  She completed him in a way no other woman had.

  It was the last coherent thought he had as Claire started to come, her soft moans and the frenzied movements of her hips triggering his own powerful orgasm.

  CHAPTER SIX

  After an incredible night of sex with Shea, Claire was surprised, and disappointed, to wake up in bed alone. She was also shocked to discover that it was nearly eight-thirty in the morning, which was late for her. Then again, Shea had kept her up most of the night, exhausting her with his stamina, until she’d finally fallen asleep against his warm body with her head on his chest and his heart beating a steady cadence in her ear.

  Smiling at the memories, she slipped out of bed and put on her robe, hoping that Shea was still there. The living room was empty, and she opened the sliding glass door and checked out on the deck, only to find that vacant, too. Bummed that he’d left so early, and while she was asleep, no less, she headed back into the kitchen to make some coffee. A handwritten note on the counter caught her attention, and she picked up the piece of paper and read Shea’s message.

  You were sleeping so peacefully and I didn’t want to wake you. The waves were perfect for surfing this morning and I couldn’t resist. Sorry I won’t be there for my daily jog, but I promise to make it up to you later. Shea.

  Relieved that she hadn’t done something to scare Shea off, she decided to forgive him for leaving so early. He worked hard and deserved a bit of playtime to himself. Besides, she was looking forward to what he had in mind for later, especially if it was anything like the wicked, carnal things he’d done to her during the course of the night and early this morning.

  Feeling lazy and relaxed, she took a long, hot shower and put on a tank top and a gauze skirt. Since Shea wouldn’t be jogging this morning, Claire decided to take a walk on
the beach, as she sometimes did. She headed down to the water’s edge and strolled along the stretch of beach, her mind filled with thoughts of Shea.

  After last night, there was no doubt in her mind that she was falling hard and fast for him. They’d only gone out a few times, but she’d shared more with him than she’d ever intended, mainly because he’d been so easy to talk to. She’d trusted him with the humiliating details of her divorce, and she’d let him see her vulnerable, insecure side. It had felt so incredibly good to have such a strong connection with Shea that she could share anything with him, especially since it had been a long time—if ever—since a man had been so interested in everything about her.

  An hour later, she returned to her house, ready to get to work and finish the ring she’d started last night. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she carried it into the living room, settled herself on the chair in front of her drafting table, and picked up the gold setting she’d worked on yesterday. She checked the prongs on the diamonds, tightened them in a few places, and knew she was ready to add the crowning glory to the design—the Padparadsha sapphire.

  She started to slide off her seat to go and get the gem from her safe, then remembered that she’d had it out when Shea had arrived last night. She’d been so distracted and so eager to be with him that she’d forgotten to lock it up again.

  Reaching for the velvet pouch where she kept the stone, she opened the small bag, but there was no jewel inside. Startled by the realization, she checked the surface of the table, including picking up her jeweler’s tools and shuffling through her designs just in case the gem was hiding somewhere. When that didn’t produce what she was looking for, she got on her hands and knees and checked the floor around where she worked—with the help of Zoey, who was curious to know what she was doing.

  Feeling desperate and panicked, she dumped out the small trash can she kept beside the drafting table and rifled through the crumpled papers and other debris. When that didn’t produce the stone either, she rechecked everything all over again, hoping that she’d somehow missed the gem.

  The sapphire was nowhere to be found.

  A sickening, dreadful sensation swirled in the pit of her belly as she realized that she’d left the living room sliding door unlocked when she’d gone out for her walk on the beach. It had always been easier to leave the door open than to carry her keys with her, and she’d never experienced any problems. Now, with her rare and expensive sapphire gone, she was questioning the wisdom of her decision.

  She also had to face the fact that someone had stolen the Padparadsha, and there was only one thing left for her to do.

  She picked up the phone and called the police to file a theft report. Despite the fact that the stone was insured and she’d likely be reimbursed, the whole incident left her feeling violated. Needing to hear Shea’s voice, she called him to tell him what had happened. He’d been concerned by the news, but also distracted by a delivery that arrived while they were on the phone, as well as supervising tile work being done behind the bar area, and promised to come by later.

  A uniformed officer arrived at Claire’s within the hour and began the investigation process for her claim.

  “There don’t seem to be any signs of a break-in,” the cop, who went by the name of Garrett, said. “So, most likely the perpetrator came in through the sliding glass door from the deck.”

  Claire wrapped her arms around her churning stomach. Even though she had suspected as much, she hated hearing the truth out loud. Knowing that someone had been inside her house without her knowledge and had possibly gone through her things was a huge shock. While she’d only noticed that the sapphire was missing, she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d taken anything else of value that she wasn’t aware of yet.

  “Has anyone had any access to the inside of the house lately?” the officer asked as he glanced up from his notepad. “A housekeeper? A maintenance person, possibly?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “How about any friends over the past few days?”

  Shea was more than a friend, but she wasn’t about to clarify that Shea was her lover to the policeman. “Well, yes, but he doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “I understand, but I’d like to get the person’s name, anyway,” he replied patiently. “It’s standard procedure for this kind of investigation.”

  She hesitated, then gave the man the information he was after. “There’s only one person who has been in the house since I moved in a few weeks ago. His name is Shea O’Brien.”

  After jotting down the name on his notepad, Garrett glanced up at her, his gaze direct. “Does he know about this valuable stone you have?”

  The man’s stare made her feel uneasy, and she fought the instinctive urge to defend Shea. “Yes, he does.”

  “I think that’s about it.” The officer snapped his book shut and tucked his pen into his shirt pocket, then retrieved a business card and handed it to her. “I’ll get a report typed up for you so you can use it for your insurance claim. Call me if anything pertinent comes to mind, and if I find out anything else during the investigative process, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and walked him to the door. “I appreciate it.”

  The officer left, and Claire was surprised to get a phone call from him later that afternoon. She was even more stunned to hear what he had to say.

  “Ms. Reissing, I had one of the detectives here at the station run a background check on your friend, Shea O’Brien,” he said, concern in his tone. “Did you know that he has a prior criminal record?”

  Her entire body went cold, and she prayed that she’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”

  “He’s been previously arrested for stealing a valuable gemstone from a collector,” he said, and this time Claire heard him clearly. “Were you aware of this?”

  The officer’s incriminating words rang in her ears, and she had to sit down on the couch because her legs had gone weak and she felt physically ill. Shea was a jewel thief.

  Zoey came up to her and rubbed against her legs, as if sensing something was wrong, and Claire found comfort in the cat’s affectionate gesture. Especially when everything else around her seemed to be falling apart.

  “I had no idea,” she finally said, her voice a rasp of sound.

  “Would you like me to have the detective call him in for questioning?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing this was all a bad dream, except when she opened her eyes again, she was very wide awake and she had a difficult choice to make. Either send Shea to the police station to find out what he knew about her missing gemstone, or confront him herself. It wasn’t an easy decision, but after everything they’d shared—or rather, everything she’d shared with him—there was only one option for her.

  “No, I’d like to talk to him myself,” she said. She deserved to hear the truth straight from the man who’d deceived her.

  “All right,” the officer replied. “But if you change your mind, give me a call.”

  They hung up, and a combination of hurt and anger swelled within her when she thought back to the day Shea had saved her from that current. Obviously, something like that couldn’t have been planned, but she had shown him the Padparadsha that morning. She remembered his interest, and his knowledge of gemstones, and how Shea had claimed his father was a collector. It had been a logical explanation, and believing him had been so easy.

  She felt duped and used, and this betrayal cut to the core of who she was because of how deeply she’d fallen for Shea, and how fast. Everything between them had been a lie, a calculated ploy for him to get closer to her, which in turn put him in the prime position to steal the sapphire and escape suspicion.

  Her throat clogged with emotion and self-recriminations. She was much too trusting, and now she was twice a fool. First with Alan, and again with Shea. It was as though her recent past was repeating itself, and she had no one to blame for her naivete but herself, for letting ye
t another man sweep her off her feet and blind her to his faults.

  She wanted her Padparadsha back, and then she was swearing off men for a good long time.

  It was after eleven at night when Shea arrived at Claire’s, and as soon as he walked into her place he knew something was very wrong. The chill in her stance was palpable, and every time he stepped near her she’d back away, deliberately avoiding any kind of contact with him.

  He tried to push away the increasing unease creeping over him, but failed. “I’m really sorry I’m late,” he apologized as he followed her into the living room. “I had to fill in for Mark since he was out and it was busier than usual. What happened with the police today?”

  She stopped by the couch and turned around to face him, her gaze lacking any of the warmth he normally saw in her eyes. “They were very helpful, actually.”

  Since she didn’t sit down, neither did he, and the tension within him grew. “Any clues as to who might have broken in?”

  “According to them, no one broke in. They most likely came and left through the unlocked sliding glass door.” Her chin lifted in a defensive gesture. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a jewel thief?”

  Her question hit him like a punch in the chest—a hard and unexpected blow that left him momentarily speechless. “I’m not a jewel thief,” he said succinctly.

  Disbelief transformed her expression. “So, you’ve never stolen a gem from a collector before?”

  Admitting the truth would alienate her more, Shea knew, but he didn’t even consider lying. “Yes, I did. Once. A long time ago.”

  “And you didn’t think telling me the fact that you were arrested for theft was important?”

  The hurt in her voice was unmistakable, and he hated that he was the cause of her pain. He attempted to explain, to give her the answers that would make her understand. “Claire, I didn’t—”