“Dunno.”

She snuggled into Tag’s big warm body in the sleeping bag. He’d turned off the lamp and they lay there in darkness while outside the tent the wind howled in the trees in gusty bursts. Another, louder rumble told them the storm was moving closer. “It is thunder.”

A flash of light briefly lit the tent.

“I love thunderstorms,” she said, enjoying the feel of his arms around her, holding her against him.

“Ungh.”

She smiled against his chest and rubbed her fingers over his big shoulder. They’d talked a lot earlier, but apparently he was all talked out and ready for post-coital sleep. She could probably sleep herself, feeling so relaxed and satisfied. “I should go back to the cottage.”

“Don’t go.” His arms tightened. “It’s starting to rain.”

He was right. Big drops spattered on the tent, another flash of lightning illuminated them. Kyla counted in her head until thunder cracked. “Ooh, that’s getting closer. That was loud.” She liked storms, but she didn’t want to be running across the yard through one. “Are we safe here, Tag?”

“Of course.”

“There are trees all around us. What if one gets hit by lightning?”

“We’ll be fine.” He kissed her temple in a sweetly tender gesture that made her insides go all soft. “Want me to distract you again?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. You’re not a teenager anymore, you know.” His hand landed sharply on her ass and heat flared there. “Hey!” She wriggled against him.

“Keep that up and I’ll be ready, all right,” he growled.

The storm passed over them with rapid flashes of light, crashes and cracks that made the ground shake. “Wicked,” Kyla breathed, so glad she was wrapped up in Tag’s arms. There was no way she was going to sleep with that raging on outside the tent, so she just let herself enjoy it, snuggled into the sleeping bag and Tag’s body. He stroked a hand lazily up and down her back.

A complicated mixture of emotions filled her. Tenderness. Affection. Sexual satisfaction. Maybe when you put those all together it felt like love. But it couldn’t be love. They’d both agreed at the start of this that neither of them was looking for a relationship. This was about sex, about finally fulfilling one of her deepest, longest-standing fantasies—being with Tag.

It was nothing more than that.

Her chest ached a little at that thought, but she ignored it and squeezed her eyes closed. The fast-moving storm was now only faint flickers of light and muted rumbling, although rain drizzled down steadily outside, and she closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

Day came early at this time of year, the tent growing bright shortly after five in the morning. Kyla blinked and turned her head to look at Tag, spooned around her, his hand resting on her tummy, her butt pressed into his groin. His eyes remained closed and she studied him, his long eyelashes, thick straight eyebrows, his square jaw deeply shadowed with whiskers. She gave a shaky smile at how beautiful he was and how moving it was to be there with him like that. How incredible last night had been.

The brightening light outside told her that the storm had long since gone and the sky was clear. She needed to get back to the cottage before people started getting up and realized she’d never come home. She started to flip back the edge of the sleeping bag, but Tag’s hand tightened on her stomach.

“Where’re you going?” he mumbled.

“Home. Before someone realizes I wasn’t there all night.”

He sighed and kissed her shoulder. “Damn.”

She gave a little huff of laughter. “I know.”

“I should get up and go for a run.”

“Good god, Tag. It’s five in the morning!”

“It’s good to go before it gets too hot. Come with me.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m going back to bed to sleep for a few more hours. Or six.”

He smiled against her skin. “Running’s good for you. You need more exercise.”

“I’d never keep up with you.”

“Okay, I’ll go again later. When you’re ready.”

“You’re insane.”

“I have to stay in shape. The off season isn’t for sitting around on my ass drinking beer.”

Warmth unfurled inside her and she touched his stubbly cheek. “As if you’d ever do that.”

“Seriously,” he muttered, rubbing his face into her palm. “You were trash talking me last night about getting old, but the truth is…I am.”

“You’re not old!”

“I’m not young either,” he said with a wry smile. “I have to work even harder than some of the young guys to be ready for training camp. And I swear every year it gets harder.”

“Oh Tag. You’re in amazing shape.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Why thank you. I like your shape too.”

They lay there smiling at each other, cocooned in a flannel-lined sleeping bag in the slowly brightening tent.

“I’ll take you fishing this afternoon,” he said.

She blinked. “Fishing?”

“Sure. In the boat.”

“Um…okay. Maybe we could bring Emily.”

“No.”

She lifted one eyebrow and he gave her a sexy grin. “Don’t get me wrong. Emily’s a doll. But I want to take you fishing…alone.”

Memories of other fishing trips with the guys flooded back, how she’d tried so hard not to be horrified by the poor fish wriggling with a hook in its mouth, how the poor fish had died, how the guys had taken gruesome pleasure in gutting and filleting the poor fish and then had expected her to eat it. She’d almost been in tears, but as usual, determined to be one of them, she’d made herself do it. She did not want to go fishing. But if it was with Tag…

“Okay.” She kissed him quickly, then slipped out and found her clothes, cool and slightly damp from the morning air. Ugh. She dressed, aware of his hot gaze on her as she did so.

“Wear that black bikini,” he said. She paused, then hid her grin as she ducked out of the tent and jogged across the wet grass.

“So where are the fishing rods?”

Tag had just steered the boat into a small bay a few miles up the shore from Crystal Beach. A patch of reeds waved lazily in the afternoon breeze, the sun glinting off the water. Kyla had moved to the back of the boat and stood there with one hand on the back of a seat, balancing in the rocking boat.

“I didn’t bring any.”

She looked at him over one bare shoulder. She’d worn the little halter-topped black bikini as he’d asked, but also wore a pair of loose black board shorts over it. They hung low on her hips, emphasizing the smooth curves of her waist.

“You didn’t bring fishing rods? How are we going to fish?”

“We’re not. I hate fishing.”

She gaped at him. “You hate fishing?”

He grinned. “I’m happy to eat all the pickerel the others catch, but it’s really not my favorite thing to do.”

“Then why did we come here?”

He just looked at her.

“Oh.” Her mouth curved. “Really? In the boat?”

He cut the motor and silence surrounded them, save for the soft slap of waves against the boat. “We’re alone,” he murmured, moving toward her. “That’s all I care about.”

She laid a hand on his bare chest and smiled up at him. “You are a bad, bad man.”

“I know.” He bent and kissed her. She wore some kind of fruity lip balm that tasted sweet and he licked her mouth. “I did however bring towels, blankets and extra sunscreen. We wouldn’t want you to burn any areas that aren’t…ahem…used to sun exposure.”

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink.

“We should probably take care of that first,” he continued, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen. “I kinda like putting sun lotion on you.”

“I kind of like it too,” she murmured.

“Take your top off.”

She blinked at him, then surveyed the area around them. They were completely alone. She bit her lip. “This is kind of…public.”

“There’s no one else here. We’ll hear a boat if someone comes.”

She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, then reached behind her for the fastener of the top. It loosened and she lifted it over her head. Tag’s breath stuck in his throat for a moment as he surveyed her naked, there in the boat, the sun gleaming on her dark brown hair, her skin smooth and golden, her breasts so firm and perfect. Her nipples puckered into tight brown points.