Her Knight in Black Leather by J. M. Stewart Read Free Book Online

with the same overwhelming need winding through her.
    “What if I don’t want to go home?”
    He moved to stand beside her, turned his back to the water, and tucked the tips of his fingers into his pockets. “What
do
you want?”
    His dark eyes trained on hers, filled with so much heat and desire she feared melting through the boards and into the water beneath her. The air between them sizzled, yet there was an unspoken question in his eyes. One that clearly told her he wasn’t presuming anything but was, instead, putting the choice in her hands.
    Her heart pounded in her throat. She wanted to slide into his arms and seize his mouth, taste him again, feel the passion those eyes promised. Dive into the freedom and relish it. She wanted to lose herself in the fantasy he provided. That’s what he was — a living, breathing fantasy. The entire night was a wonderful dream. All too soon, she’d wake up, and the cold, harsh light of reality would come, taking him with it.
    The question was, was she ready to take that step forward? Leap off the cliff into oblivion?
    Seeming to sense her hesitation, he cocked a brow.
    “Say it, Cat.” His tone taunted. The mischievous glint in his eyes challenged her. “Tell me what you want.”
    Something in that look gave her exactly what she needed. He was telling her he wanted her, too, but attempted to set her at ease. It worked. Once again, his actions told her a lot about the kind of man he was.
    She met his cheeky grin with one of her own.
    “What I want,” she braced her hands against his chest, “is to go for a swim.”
    Then she leaned her body weight into him and shoved.
    Surprise lit his eyes right before he toppled, rear-end first, into the cool ocean water. The splash sounded through the quiet of the night, water spraying her clothes.
    She gripped the waistband of her skirt, ready to strip it off and jump in after him. She’d never been so spontaneous before. Hell, it was childish, and Nick would’ve been furious.
    As Michael’s head disappeared beneath the murky water, her mind took the thought a step further and her smile fell. Her heart pounded a panicky rhythm in her chest. Suppose he couldn’t swim? She hadn’t thought about the temperature of the water, either. It had been a hot summer so far. It ought to be warm enough; still, some summers it was ice cold. Would he be angry when he finally surfaced?
    He popped up moments later, spitting and sputtering.
    And laughing.
    “You little minx.”
    Relief flooded her first — obviously, he could swim.
    Then a knot of guilt sank in her gut. “I’m sorry. That was really childish. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    “You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I’m a man of vengeance, Cat. If I were you … ” He gripped the edge of the dock and vigorously shook his head as he hoisted himself up. The bottom half of him still hanging in the water, he pinned her with playful, narrowed eyes. “I’d start running now.”
    She knew she ought to heed his warning, but she couldn’t move. The sight of him caught her. His wet T-shirt now clung to his skin, showing off every solid muscle, every peak and valley, right down to his narrow waist and flat stomach.
    “When I get out of this water … ” He lifted a knee onto the edge of the dock. “You’re going to get it.”
    The low, rough timbre of his voice, the way he dropped neat and easy onto the edge of the dock, sent a shiver down her spine.
    “Want to go for a swim?” One brow arched, he sprang to his feet with all the agility of a large cat, then rose to his full height.
    When he took a menacing step toward her, she realized he wasn’t kidding. Her pulse skipped then quickened, but it was the look in his eyes that finally released the knot of guilt in her stomach. His deep, dark eyes glimmered with amusement. Amusement — and retribution.
    With a giddy little squeal, she pivoted and ran. The sound of his bare feet hitting the wood followed closely behind her, and she