"Let's go walk it off then," I suggested with a smile, "It's low tide, so the pools down at Dana Point should be awesome!"

She nodded her agreement and sipped at her water, "Sounds like a plan."

I waved down the waiter and asked for the check.

"Thank you for dinner," she said once we were back on the sidewalk, "That was probably the best sushi I've had in my life."

"I told you so." She had wrapped her hand in mine again, so I lifted it to my lips and kissed her fingertips, "I wouldn't lie to you."

She met my gaze and, to my surprise, there was none of the wary trepidation that had been there before. Something had changed. There was softness in her eyes that I hadn't seen before.

"For some crazy reason, I believe you when you say that."

I kept myself from wrapping my hand around the back of her head and pulling her in for a kiss-just barely. The urge to dominate her, to own her, to pleasure her, to protect her, swelled inside of me like a tidal wave.

But Holly Nash is not one to be taken. Owned, maybe, but on her terms. I'd make her come to me.

We crossed the street and climbed inside the car.

"Straight south from here. Just look for the pirate ship."

"The pirate ship?"

"Yeah. It's usually moored in the marina. You can't miss it."

"What the h.e.l.l kind of adventure are you taking me on Porter Hale?"

I flashed her a wicked smile, "The kind you'll never forget."

She put the car in drive and pulled out of the stall. It was only a fifteen-minute drive, and the look on her face when she saw the ma.s.sive privateer and its five thousand square feet of sail was priceless.

"That, my dear, is the Spirit of Dana Point. It's a replica of the ships built during the Revolution. Mostly used for local boy scouts and troubled teens now, but they do the occasional joy ride for the public if you ask really nice."

"It's beautiful! I was expecting a sign in the shape of a pirate ship or a cheesy restaurant or something, not a full-blown real-life boat floating in the bay!"

She pulled into a stall near the ship and almost left the car running in her excitement to get out and see the thing close-up.

We walked along her starboard side from stern to bow, Holly reveling in the beauty of a handcrafted ship, and me reveling in the beauty of her excitement and pa.s.sion over something so far outside of what I expected her interests to entail.

She named off parts of that ship that I didn't even know had names. After my thorough education on the finer points of maritime architecture, we made our way across the parking lot and down a long set of concrete stairs to the coa.r.s.e sand of the beach.

"This is more my area of expertise," I informed her as we stepped to the edge of the first tide pool, "I don't know a whole lot about sailing, but I can name off hundreds, if not thousands of plants and animals that live in these things."

"I think I could probably give you a run for your money," she winked up at me before crouching down and pointing to the bottom of the pool, "sebastes umbrosus."

I knelt down beside her, nearly dipping my chin into the water to get a better look, "No way! That's a sebastes semicinctus! The umbrosus has white spots and a more p.r.o.nounced dorsal fin!"

She giggled next to me and nodded her head, "I know. I was just testing you!" She moved her finger a few inches to the left, "Scorpaena gutatta."

I smiled when I spotted the flash of brilliant red as it darted under a rock.

"Strongylocentrotus francisca.n.u.s," I said without pointing.

"The red sea urchin. Watch out for those little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," she held her fingers a few inches apart, "nothing like a couple dozen three inch spines buried in your foot to ruin a day at the beach! Anthopleura elegantissima."

I had almost missed the tiny bed of brilliant magenta and green anemones, "You've got a pretty good eye."

"Tide pools fascinated me as a kid. The fact that they change every day and each one holds such an insanely diverse ecosystem just enthralled me. I used to sit at the edge of them until the tide came back in and my parents made me move. I always wanted to know where all the animals went when they weren't landlocked anymore and what caused them to climb down into these holes in the first place."

I pushed myself up from the edge of the rocky depression, "First one to find a Ruby Octopus gets to pick the movie we watch on our next date!"

I took off running before she even had a chance to get herself upright. I had already spotted a pool big enough to make it likely that there would be one of the elusive octopi in it and knew I had the contest in the bag. I skidded to a halt at the edge of the eight by four foot cauldron in the ground and scanned the bottom for the telltale signs of the expert pract.i.tioner of crypsis.

Thanks to the chromatoph.o.r.es in their skin, they can instantly change to any shade of red, brown, orange, black, or yellow they need in order to blend into their surroundings. They also have expert control of the papillae, the small b.u.mps on their skin, and can mimic textures ranging from smooth to spikey, rendering them nearly invisible.

"I win!" she cried from a few yards to the south of me.

I cursed under my breath and headed her direction to confirm her success.

"You're full of s.h.i.t," I announced after surveying her pool.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she had her hands on her hips and a single eyebrow lifted.

I scanned the pool again, looking more closely for an eyeball or a stray tentacle that tended to give the creatures away.

"I'm still not seeing anything."

She let out a derisive snort and bent down close to the surface.

"I'm disappointed in you, Porter!" She quickly dipped a hand into the pool, poking the wall nearest her. Much to my dismay, it bloomed to a brilliant shade of red and released a small cloud of black ink as the adolescent octopus shot to the opposite wall and puffed up in an attempt to scare her off.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," I grumbled, "You're gonna make me watch a chick flick, aren't you?"

"There's a definite possibility," she teased, "Not because I want to watch it, but because you don't."

I rolled my eyes and rose from the edge of the now-murky tide pool. I had spotted a rocky ledge that b.u.t.ted up to the surf and wanted to be on top of it when the sun set. I had a high level of certainty that she would follow me without me having to say anything, so I headed across the sand, carefully skirting tide pools in the ever-dimming light.

Holly didn't disappoint.

She took my offered hand and joined me on the flat surface of the short, narrow ledge.

As we stood there, her hand still in mine, we looked out over the Pacific in silence as the sun sank toward the distant horizon. The thin wisps of cloud still lingering in the sky flamed orange and pink, bathing us, and our slice of heaven, in its rose-gold glow.

The constant spray of the surf crashing against the rocks at our feet chilled the summer air and surrounded us with its briny scent. As the sun finally touched on the horizon, its golden reflection stretched toward us like a pathway we could follow to the end of the Earth and beyond.

Holly stepped into my side and shivered slightly. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to my chest, using my own body heat to help keep her warm.

Neither of us said a word as we stood there watching the last of the day's light disappear below the horizon.

I rested my chin on top of her head and tried not to think about the beast inside of me that she had awakened. I could feel it shifting around and knew it was only a matter of time before it was fully alert and took control. I wanted to enjoy the time we had together before that happened and we were forced to go our separate ways.

She sighed heavily and relaxed into me, folding her hands over the top of mine.

Twilight had officially fallen over California and the tide was slowly making its way back up the sh.o.r.eline. If we didn't move soon, we'd be stuck on the rock and our only option would be to wade through the shallows back to dry land.

"We should get back up to the car," I didn't loosen my hold at all, "before the tide comes in."

She nodded her head, but didn't say anything. We stood there a few moments longer before she finally dropped her arms and took a half step forward.

I wasn't prepared for the nakedness I felt without her pressed into me. Alarms went off in my head, warning me to cut ties and run while I could, but the next words out of her mouth silenced them.

Four words from her and I was practically on my knees ready to drop rose petals on the ground she walked on.

"Come home with me."

As soon as the words left my mouth a knot of terror formed in my stomach. An invisible steel band clamped down around my chest making it hard to breathe and I couldn't do anything but stare at him, waiting for a response.

I, Holly Nash, had just asked a p.o.r.n star to come home with me.

What if he said no? What if he laughed at me? Or worse, what if he said yes?

Porter just stood there, frozen, for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he smiled softly and without a word, reached his hand toward me.

This is really happening.

The excitement that rushed through me overshadowed the terror and I began to breathe again.

Of its own accord, my own hand slid into his and my legs robotically carried me along beside him back to the car.

I drove on autopilot the entire way back into Los Angeles. I couldn't spare any focus for the road since every ounce of my willpower was being devoted to fighting off the panic attack that threatened to overtake me.

The silence between us was awkward. I wasn't able to form words and no hint of Porter's usual easygoing demeanor was present. He stared straight ahead, didn't touch the stereo, and never took his hand off of mine.

I pulled into my driveway and shut off the ignition. We both sat there like nervous teenagers outside a cheap motel on prom night.

"I need wine," I blurted as I opened my door and practically jumped out of the car.

He followed suit, a little more calmly than I had, and we made our way up the walkway to the front door.

My anxiety spiked as my trembling hand slid the key into the lock and a vision of Porter sliding into me in the same way flashed through my mind's eye.

I bolted for the kitchen as soon as the door swung open, trusting that Porter would have the sense to close it behind us. Two of my largest wine gla.s.ses were filled to the brim with merlot before he even made his way into the kitchen.

I downed half of mine in one breath and refilled it as he calmly lifted his own gla.s.s and sipped at it. The huge dose of wine did wonders for my nerves and reminded me to take a deep breath. My hands steadied as I did so and the terror I felt slowly taking the reins again gave way to a giddy excitement. The heat from the wine spread through my stomach and mixed with the warmth that had begun to spread throughout me at the prospect of having Porter in my house.

"Feel better?" he asked when I had finally stopped quivering.

"A bit," I took a more controlled sip of my wine.

"This can all happen at your pace, Holly. I'm not going to let you do anything you're not one hundred percent on-board with."

The soft rea.s.surance further suppressed any doubts I felt and my confidence in my invitation began to rise. The fact that Porter Hale could stand in my kitchen with a raging hard-on and tell me that the ball was in my court flipped a switch inside me and my walls started coming down.

I took another long swallow from my gla.s.s before setting it down on the counter and taking a step toward him. I reached up with one hand and ran a thumb over the s.e.xy stubble on his jaw. I couldn't help but smile at the antic.i.p.ation I could see burning in his eyes. My other hand went to his groin, pressing his impressive anatomy against my palm and slowly rubbing my way along its length.

"It's been a long time for me, Porter. One step at a time is all I can handle."

I could feel the warmth of his arousal as I reached the head, causing it to jump beneath my fingers. He hissed a breath through his teeth and set his own wine gla.s.s down on the counter beside mine.

Before I could register what was happening, his strong fingers were wrapped in my hair, holding my head in place as his lips crushed down on mine like a starving man before a feast. He pressed his way into my mouth, taking all I was willing to give. I could feel him tasting, sampling, exploring, and savoring me. I was powerless to stop him, but there wasn't a single part of me that wanted to. I opened for him and let him ravish me with his mouth.

About the time I began to see stars, his heated kisses finally gave way to gentleness. Sated, he planted one last kiss on my jaw and stepped away panting.

Without the support of his hands on my head, I had to lean against the counter or risk collapsing to the floor as the heady high of my pa.s.sion threatened to topple me.

"That was," I gasped, "intense."

"I'm sorry I lost control. I needed to taste you, Holly. From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I've wanted to do that. I swear to you that whatever happens tonight, you're in control from here on out."

The idea of having Porter at my command shot a tongue of heat through my s.e.x. The bikini bottoms I still wore beneath my pants were soaked and it wasn't from the ocean.

A spot of wetness had also appeared at the end of the bulge in Porter's jeans. I had the sudden, uncontrollable urge to taste him as well.

I took him by the hand and led him from the kitchen, abandoning the half-full gla.s.ses of wine.

b.u.t.terflies the size of kittens rioted in my stomach. They became more frantic with each step we took toward my bedroom door until I was sure that if I opened my mouth they'd come fluttering out.

The door closed behind us with a gentle click and I led him over to the bed, guided only by the dim light filtering through my windows from the alley behind my house.

I squeaked in surprise as his powerful arms scooped me off my feet and my heart hammered in my chest as he gently lay me down on the bed. He stood over me, staring as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I stared right back, taking in every inch of his lean, predatory body. His tee shirt stretched with each rapid, heaving breath he took and I knew at that moment that he was just as impatient for what was about to happen as I was.

Porter lowered himself onto the bed beside me and softly kissed my lips. He peppered gentle whispers of flesh-on-flesh along my jaw and neck then down to my collarbone. I closed my eyes and pushed every last thought out of my head. I didn't want to think about it, I just wanted to feel it; to feel him.

One of his huge hands came down on my waist and skirted its way beneath my shirt. The feeling of his strong fingers trailing across my hip bone sent my nervous system into overdrive. Every inch of my body, inside and out, tingled with the electricity of his touch. The path he traced over the flesh between my hip and my ribs blazed to life and shot pulses of need straight to the center of me.

My breath hitched as his fingers slid under the bikini top and tenderly ma.s.saged the overly sensitive flesh of my breast. He growled deep in his chest as his hips pressed forward and crushed his erection into my thigh.

His exploration finally landed on my nipple and I moaned and arched my back as he gently took the peaked nub between his thumb and forefinger. A mixture of color and shadow burst before my eyes and I knew that I was going to climax before he even made his way south of the border.

His hips were now grinding against me steadily as he slowly worked my nipple. His mouth came down on mine and I opened for him once more, allowing him to pull the flavors from my mouth with his tongue. He wanted to taste me, to know me, to consume me. I could feel it in the way he made sure to explore every inch.

I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that had built up between them, but the sensation had the opposite effect. The whisper of cotton over my c.l.i.toris, when combined with the sensations Porter's body provided, sent me over the edge. I came hard for him.

The sound of my release triggered something inside of him and his actions became more urgent-more desperate.

His hand shot out of my shirt and tugged at the b.u.t.ton on my jeans as he sat up and removed his shirt with his free hand.