Free High Risk Love by Shannon Mayer Page A

you?”
    “Hey, you can’t have my camera!” I yelped, struggling to get at it, a fear that Hugh would drop it tangling the breath in my throat. I had no way to replace it if he so much as bumped it and the thing turned off or worse, wouldn’t turn back on. “Seriously, give it back!”
    I wasn’t ready for what happened next, surprised at how fast Jet could move. With an easy scoop, he had me over his shoulder.
    “No, I don’t want to get wet, I want my camera back!” I smacked his butt, my hand stinging on the wet jeans and hard muscle.
    “Oh, baby, you know I like it rough.” He laughed, swatting my backside in response, but made sure to give me a squeeze too, his fingers kneading the curve of my ass.
    I screeched a denial, both of his treatment of me and the hot burst of anger that shot through me as he threw me into the water. Closing my eyes and mouth, the salt water sluiced over me, soothing my scorched skin. He was right, this felt amazing on my overheated body and I floated under the waves for a moment before pushing to the surface.
    The water was waist height when I stood up, and I smoothed my hair back, plucking at my sundress, still pissed off even thought the water felt good. “Seriously? You couldn’t take no for an answer?”
    He splashed me. “Not lately.”
    I glared at him. “Well, maybe you should try it on for size. Not everyone is here
just
for your pleasure.”
    He didn’t seem perturbed by my attitude at all. In fact, he continued to smile. “Are you sure about that?”
    My eyes met his, locking onto the desire simmering there. He strode toward me, his intent obvious as his eyes dipped to my lips, his hands already reaching for me. Panic warred with my anger and I backed up, the water slowing my escape, though I was moving as fast as I could. He reached for me and I dove under the water, swimming to one side. Every time he touched me, my resistance eased; so the only answer was, I couldn’t let him touch me again. Bobbing to the surface, I didn’t stand right up, but instead just lifted my head, my hair floating around me in black tendrils. I did my best to talk like a grown up, like my mom would have scolded him.
    “That’s enough, Jet. I’ve had enough. Are you going to behave? You going to keep your hands to yourself? Stop touching my things? Because I sure as hell have had enough.”
    He put his hands on his hips and frowned at me. Really frowned, not an I’m-frowning-just-to-make-you-smile frown.
    With a sharp bob of his head, he gave a curt, “Fine. Hands off, as per your request.” He turned away from me and I glared at his back.
    I waited until he’d sloshed his way out of the water, taking his time to shimmy out of his wet pants, much to the whispers and giggling delight of the women on the beach. Tight black boxer briefs clung to his body, shifted low over his hips as he peeled his jeans off. I couldn’t take my eyes of his long, lean muscled legs as he took the pair of khaki shorts and tank top Hugh had obviously brought with him.
    Then he strode away, like he’d forgotten me already, without a single backward glance. Which was good. Right?
    This was better, I told myself as I made my way out of the water. Truly, it looked like he’d finally gotten the message. I was not to be flirted and played with. Out of bounds. Off limits. Permission slip denied. No touching allowed.
    Yet, why then did I feel this ache of loss? Like I’d done something wrong and somehow hurt him? I hadn’t, I knew that, he didn’t really care about me; I was a game to him, a challenge. This was the right thing to do—push him away and keep what was left of my heart safe.
    Hugh handed me my camera, which I checked over quickly, sighing a breath of relief when the finicky beast turned back on for me.
    “You want to get changed?” Hugh asked.
    I let out an irritated sigh and shook my head and glanced at my sundress. “No, this will dry off quick enough. Thanks.”
    Hugh’s eyes held more