Rachel looked over the railing at the setup and then nodded. “Yeah, that might be easiest. You don’t mind?”

“No problem.” Leah opened her massive beach bag and took out a few of her schoolbooks. “Slip it in.”

“Awesome,” Rachel said. Then she crossed her arms in front of her, grasped the bottom of her bright green tank top and pulled it up…and off.

Fuuuuuck. A buzzing sound hit my brain, and every thought went out the window as she tossed her shirt in the bag. The top of her bikini was modest. Hell, there were only a few inches of that very toned, very soft stomach showing, but it was enough to make my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth.

Add that to her breasts pushed up against the stretched material, and I was in trouble.

“You okay?” Penna asked in an overly concerned tone.

“Yep,” I said with a cough.

Then Rachel dropped the board shorts, leaving her in a pair of boy-cut bikini bottoms that hugged every curve of her ass.

I was still trying to form a thought when she threw the shorts in Leah’s bag and smiled up at me. “Ready?”

Hell yes, I was. Right here. There was a little office building about thirty feet away that had to have a lock on the door.

“Landon?” Rachel asked, her forehead puckered.

“Yeah, let’s go. Leah?” I asked, motioning to the bag.

“Yep.” She nodded, holding it open for me.

I peeled off my shirt, happy to be rid of it in the nearly ninety degrees and humidity. It landed in the bag with my hat. I was ready to roll.

Rachel’s eyes went wide and raced over my chest and abs, no doubt cataloging the tattoos I’d added. Then she swallowed and ran her tongue over her lower lip before shaking her head. “Yeah, let’s go. Now.”

I could have crowed knowing that I still had an effect on her, but then she walked away and I was too busy staring at the sway of her hips to care what she’d thought about me.

“Yeah, good luck on that no-sex thing.” Penna laughed. “I give it a week.”

I didn’t bother correcting her.

We met up with the Renegades on the lower deck and prepared for the stunt. Everyone clasped their life jackets. I pulled the side straps tight and made sure I was secure, then headed over to where Rachel stood on the deck.

“You got it?” I asked.

She looked up at me under impossibly long lashes. “Not sure. Want to pull me tight?” she asked with a little bite to her lower lip.

Danger, Will Robinson. She was up to something, but hell if I cared at the moment. I cupped one side of her rib cage with one hand and pulled the side straps snug on the other side, then flipped and did the same on the other.

“Better?” I asked, my voice low. I needed to back the hell away from her before my body had a bigger reaction than my swim trunks could disguise.

“Much. Need any help?” Her fingers traced the small strip of skin that my life vest didn’t cover.

Damn, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have her full attention—the power she held in those deep brown eyes. I tried to chill the want that lit up my nerve endings like the Fourth of July, all hungry for her touch, but it was pointless.

Pissed-off Rachel was a sight to behold.

Worried Rachel made me want to solve her every problem.

Open, honest, defenseless Rachel stole my every heartbeat.

But flirtatious Rachel? Fuck, I was screwed.

“I’m okay,” I told her.

She rose up on tiptoes and ran her lips along the line of my chin, barely able to reach. “You could be better than okay.”

My hands clenched to keep from reaching for her. I’d been so accustomed to the gluttony of taking what I wanted these last couple of years that restraint was something I was going to have to work for.

But she was worth it.

And with that tiny little smile and devilish bite of her lower lip, I knew she was testing me. She assumed I’d fail and give in to my nearly painful need for her before she was ready for everything I wanted on the emotional level.

Not that I could blame her—I hadn’t shown her much else yet.

But she had no idea how determined I was.

“Better than okay?” I asked her with a little smirk. Playing with fire, my subconscious warned me.

“Much better,” she promised.

“You guys ready?” Pax called.

“Not sure. Are you ready?” Rachel asked me in open challenge.

“I can handle everything you’ve got, Rachel.”

She shrugged. “We’ll see about that.”

We quieted as Pax ran through the plan. First runs would consist of those of us on wakeboards. We’d be pulled by the cranes, the centrifugal force propelling us at dizzying speeds toward the ramps.

Snowboards, skateboards, wakeboards—whatever. I was at home.

Like someone had flipped a switch in my brain, my concentration shifted to the stunt. I examined every angle of those ramps, the speed I could attain, which tricks I could pull off.

One by one, the Renegades strapped up and hooked on. Pax went first, and I shamelessly used him as my guinea pig, watching where he hit the fastest, which angles he got wrong.

Then I turned my attention to where they’d set up the human bowling lane.

I made sure the giant foam barrels were placed correctly in the water, stacked in a pyramid in the direct middle of the crane park, just waiting for the first Renegade to come sailing along and knock them over. The barrels were as tall as Rachel, three times as wide, and stacked on each other in a pyramid in the middle of the park.