An appreciative whistle emanated from somewhere nearby. Although they’d moved out of the densest part of the crowd, they were still surrounded by enthusiastic festival attendees draped in colorful beads and drinking beer from plastic cups in the shape of old-fashioned steins.
And if Jesse found out who the hell was whistling at Kyra he’d sew the guy’s lips together.
Jamming her silk scarf into the pocket of his shorts, he tucked Kyra under one arm and hauled her even farther from the masses. “Are you insane?” he hissed, wishing he could have thought of another way to get her out of there besides touching her. His hand burned where it rested on one slim but perfectly curved hip. “There are a bunch of guys halfway to drunk and slobbering in that crowd. You’re a walking target for trouble in that outfit.”
She shoved away from him as they rounded the corner of the Tampa Convention Center away from the water and the excitement of the pirate invasion. “The only one who seems to be targeting me for trouble is you, Chandler. Are you halfway to drunk and slobbering?”
Drunk—no. The jury was still out on the slobbering issue. There was definitely some drooling going on right now.
He took a deep breath and made a stab at sounding reasonable. “You’re just a bit—” He searched for the right words as his gaze roamed her outrageous costume. Her sexy-as-hell body. “Naked to be out in public, don’t you think?”
“You call this naked?” She planted one fist on her hip, the breeze from the bay blowing in to ruffle her hair and mold her blouse to her body.
Jesse swallowed—twice—but still couldn’t find his voice in a throat gone dry.
“Your German plaything is showing off half her butt cheeks in those little shorts of hers today while I remain decently covered.” Kyra tugged her skirt hem for emphasis.
Jesse wasn’t sure he even remembered their thread of conversation anymore since the wind had conspired to show him the shadowy outline of Kyra’s naked body beneath her clothes. “The skirt half of you isn’t what needs covering.”
He never thought he’d hear himself beg a woman to put her clothes back on. But this was Kyra, the one woman he’d always made it a point to treat honorably. The one long-term, enduring relationship he’d ever managed with any woman save his sister.
And damn it, he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her breasts.
She flashed him a wicked smile as she trailed her hand along her shoulder where bare skin met the edge of her blouse. “Oh. You mean this half.”
Transfixed, he watched her fingers skim over her own flesh. He couldn’t have turned away if there’d been a hurricane blowing in off the bay.
Her finger paused just before she reached the top of one breast, then hooked into the loop of a single strand of gold plastic beads she wore in deference to the day. “Guess it is a bit much, isn’t it? Maybe the costumer decided to go flashy because of the good media coverage Gasparilla is receiving this year. Although we’re far removed from the spotlight way back here.”
She looked around meaningfully at their relatively quiet position at the back of the crowd.
Not that Jesse had any intention of returning to the heart of the festival with Kyra dressed like this. She’d be fending off too many wolf whistles to have fun.
Scavenging for control, Jesse swiped a hand across his forehead. Had it ever been this hot in February before? “I think the coast is clear. I appreciate you saving me from Greta back there.” That had to be the reason for Kyra’s abduction scenario, right? “I don’t know how she found me in a such a big crowd, but she’s been glued to me all day. I appreciate you showing up when you did.”
He hoped he sounded marginally normal and unaffected.
She shrugged. “Guess you lucked out then. You got what you wanted by me getting what I wanted.”
“How do you figure?” Even if he hadn’t been choking on his own damn arousal, he had the feeling he wouldn’t have followed her thinking.
“You gave Greta the slip, which is what you wanted. I got you for the night, which is what I wanted.”
Her Cheshire-cat smile fanned the flames of his already molten imagination.
Jesse refused to screw up this friendship by allowing his libido to translate for him. Surely she didn’t mean what he thought she meant.
“We’re friends from way back,” he reminded himself as much as her. “If you need me, all you have to do is let me know.”
She laid both of her palms on his chest. “But I’ve never needed you quite like this before.”
The cool strength of her small hands permeated his shirt. No doubt she had to feel the slam of his heart, the furnace heat of his body.
“No?”
“No. Tonight isn’t going to be about friendship.” Her blue eyes locked on his. “Tonight is going to be about you and me, man to woman.” She leaned in closer, her incredible breasts almost brushing his chest. “And since you’re still technically my captive, I’m going to demand that you treat me like the woman you’ve never been able to see in me.”
That sounded dangerous as hell. But before he could protest, her voice turned to a whisper, forcing him to listen all the more carefully.
“That means we’re going to be sipping champagne instead of swilling beers. That means I expect you to feed me from your fingers. Dance with me hip to hip.” She sidled closer for emphasis, her hip grazing his. “In general, Jesse, now that I’ve got my very own bad boy at my fingertips, I’m going to wield every trick of seduction I’ve ever seen you use on other women and apply them to you. Slowly.”
Jesse didn’t remember when his jaw hit the ground, but he definitely recalled when the heart failure started to set in. It had been right about the time the word “seduction” had rolled off of Kyra’s tongue like a promise of erotic torment.
Finally, he knew exactly what she was asking.
Too bad he didn’t know if he’d survive it.
KYRA WATCHED Jesse clutch his chest as if she’d just shot him in the heart with her proposition.
Did he have to be so melodramatic about this?
Finally, he raised both hands in surrender. “Okay. You win. You’d better quit right now or I’m the one who’ll damn well be blushing. And I’ll never make another crack about dominatrix outfits.”
“I assure you this is no joke.” Could she be any more obvious in her approach? “I mean it, Jess.”
“No.” His response was delayed, but from the stern set to his jaw, he sure looked like he meant it.
“What do you mean no? You can’t defy a pirate.” What had happened to the playful man she’d known for over a decade? Didn’t he know how to indulge in a few games anymore? “I could make you walk the plank. Or I could tie you to the mast and give you fifty lashes.”
In fact, the thought inspired a few other ideas….
“What are you smiling about?” He studied her through narrowed eyes.
“I was just thinking fifty lashes might be more effective if I wielded my scarf.” She made a dive for the pocket of his shorts. “Where did you hide that anyway?”
He caught her wrists in a steely grip. “No. No. And hell no.”
She hadn’t seen such a serious expression on his face in more years than she could count. Probably not since he’d had a big blowout with his older brother about who was in charge of Jesse’s finances before he left Florida to start his baseball career. Jesse had won that argument along