by Stacey Lynn
Her body shivers and her puff of breath against my skin turns shallow. I’ve turned her on and I’m hard as a rock.
Brushing my lips across her cheek, I kiss her, tease, taking the hint of the promise of her sweetness with me and swallowing it down before I lean back. “We should go to sleep. You have an early morning.”
She blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering closed before opening in slow motion. “I…um…well…”
I bite back a grin. I shake her up as much as she’s done to me for months, but somehow today I’ve gotten my bearings when it comes to her. I take her hand and guide her to her feet, waiting to make sure she’s stable. Sliding my hand to her waist, I hold her tight to me. There’s no way she can miss how turned on I am. My dick is punching against the thin pants I threw on, saluting her and all her beauty. I don’t hide it.
“I unlocked my door,” she says, so quickly it comes out as one word. “So, you know…”
“I do know. And I’ll take you up on that, tomorrow. That I can promise. Tonight you need your sleep so you can get your work done.”
“Okay.” She licks her lips, and it’s an invitation I won’t turn down. I dip my head down as she lifts hers. Her hand falls to my hip, hot, burning fingertips singeing through my thin shirt, and holds on tight.
God damn. She wants this.
I’m a fool not to take it so I lower my head slowly, showing my intent, our eyes meeting right before hers begin to close. Mine follow right as I find her lips. Soft, wet from the wine, with the sweet taste of apples and berries lingering. I keep it soft and slow, nibbling and tasting her lips, as she opens her mouth and her tongue darts out, seeking more.
“Willow,” I whisper against her lips, not delving deeper as my body demands. But I’m a patient man and tomorrow the real fun will begin. “Sleep well.”
I linger at her mouth. Her breath and the taste of her staying on my mouth in a way I know it’ll be there in the morning.
She falls back slowly, eyes opening, licking the taste of me off of her own mouth. “Good night, Trey.”
She steps back, and it’s a pleasant feeling to see her wobble on her unsteady feet as she turns. It’s not the wine. We haven’t had nearly enough tonight to affect her like that.
Which means it’s all me.
Oh, yeah. Tomorrow I start a new game and it’s one I’m playing to win.
She turns back before she disappears around a wall that juts out, where I know it’s the only separation between the suites, and grins at me, lifting her hand. “See you tomorrow.”
I shove my hands to my hips and nod. “Yes. You will.”
And it’s as much of a warning as it is a promise.
Chapter 12
Willow
Holy wowzers, the man can kiss. And it wasn’t even a real one. Or a strong and powerful one. It was one of those kisses that teases, that incites. It was a kiss that hints of talents and promises a pleasure that will run deep in my veins.
I’m still trembling on my toes as I enter my bathroom and strip down out of my clothes, having grabbed a nightgown from the mess I left on my bed on my way through the room.
Nerve endings I didn’t know I possess have lit up and my chest is flushed, along with my cheeks. My hands are hot and there’s a deep, needy throb at the apex of my thighs.
“Damn it,” I groan, falling forward and gripping the counter. “I’m in way over my head.”
This weekend was supposed to be about fun. Nothing serious. I have a feeling Trey’s about to change all the rules and I’m not sure I want to stop him.
My legs tremble as I push off the counter, hands shake as I flip on the faucet. For the next few moments I prepare for bed, unable to stop glancing at the bathroom door.
What if he decides to come in anyway?
I hope he both does and doesn’t. Nothing in the six months when I’ve surreptitiously watched him at Java Joe’s has prepared me for this moment. I don’t think anything in my life has prepared me for what it will be like to be touched by a man as confident as him. He’s gentle as well as honest. He seems to have nothing to hide and it’s left me completely unnerved.
I’ve washed my face, slathered on a healthy dose of moisturizer, and yet my cheeks are still pink, like I’ve already had sex with Trey. I have a feeling it will take days, maybe weeks to get over the time I have with him this weekend. I slip into my nightgown, a thin cotton racerback tank-top sleep shirt that’s cozy but not sexy, but it’s my favorite, and even though it’s well past midnight, I’m wired and unable to sleep by the time I’m ready for bed.
Knowing sleep won’t come for a while, I flip on the television and find a predictable high school romance movie available for free and curl into my bed, dragging my laptop onto my lap. I might as well try to get some work done.
It’s fruitless. I stare at the pages on my screen for an hour and I go back to the beginning. I’ve barely corrected anything, and the pages are filled with so many colored notes and corrections it looks like a Christmas tree has grown in the margins. I’m obviously not focusing so I close my computer and slide it to the far side of the large bed. I don’t move much in my sleep so it should be safe.
Lying down in the bed, I turn toward the windows. The curtains are still open but I don’t move to close them. No one can find their way to me except Trey, and if he hasn’t come this way by now, he won’t. And yet I’m still restless, twisting and turning, kicking my legs from beneath the covers. I usually have no problems falling asleep, but there’s an ache that hasn’t yet dissipated.
Sighing, I roll to my back and close my eyes.
His kiss. His hands at my jaw, surprisingly rough despite him working at computers all day long. It’s all I can think about and I find my hands moving of their own accord, sliding over my sleep shirt. The thin cotton abrades my nipples, sparking pleasure farther south as I run my hands over my breasts, down to my stomach.
Oh God. I close my eyes, and I don’t have to think very hard about Trey. He’s been on my mind for days. Weeks even and, worse, it’s not the first time I’ve done this to thoughts of him.
My fingers slip beneath my underwear and I’m already wet. Hot. Throbbing. My clit is swollen, and I slide two fingers inside, arching into them as I imagine Trey filling me. His mouth where my thumb is at my clit.
It doesn’t take long before I’m panting, one hand teasing my nipple, pinching and pulling, my other hand doing the work I imagine Trey could do so much better and harder and I’m there, at the precipice…falling over the cliff while my stomach and my sex clench and tighten, and I’m crying out his name through gritted teeth while trying to stay silent.
And finally, finally, I’m able to roll to my side. My racing heart slows and that need that’s been keeping me restless is sated and I fall asleep to the sound of the ocean, and a whisper in my ears that tomorrow…maybe tomorrow, I can experience every fantasy I’ve just had.
* * *
—
His eyes dropped to my chest and a low groan escaped his lips. His hands slid up and then over my breasts. I shifted into him, not taking my eyes off him. His eyes went hazy, and I whimpered when his hand brushed over my satin bra. Then his thumb tugged it down, revealing one breast and then the other.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze moving to my eyes.
I smiled shyly, feeling slightly vulnerable, bared before him when he was the one who wanted to stop. He didn’t want to now though, and I wouldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted to me.
I was still on edge. The area between my thighs still pulsed with need.
His thumb grazed my nipple and I gasped, my chest arching into his hands.
It was my non-silent approval, and apparently all he needed to see and hear before his lips were back on mine and his hands were all over me. We touched each other, swallowed each other’s
cries and pleasured gasps, and my hips began to shamelessly rock against his erection again.
There was no turning back now.
* * *
—
I slam my laptop closed harshly and squeeze my eyes closed. The scene is hot and only getting hotter.
Note to self: Editing a sexy romance book when I can’t get my mind off all the things I want the guy next door to do to me is a bad idea. A really bad idea.
Fortunately, it’s taken this couple several chapters to get to the hot and heavy so while I can now feel a familiar tingle and heaviness at the tops of my thighs and my pulse is kicking up a notch, I’ve managed to get a few hours of work in and I can call it a day. At least for a while. I’ve been up since before the sun rose and I had taken my time getting ready before bringing a cup of coffee to the elegant marble tabletop where I set up for work hours ago.
The ocean is in front of me, curtains flung wide open, so unless I move close, all I see is the vast blue meeting a few popcorn-bright, white clouds in the sky. It’s a beautiful day, and more than once I’ve gone to the door to see if I can spot Trey outside, surfing, but there were too many earlier to distinguish him from anyone else. That hasn’t stopped me from glancing at the door I’ve left open. Every noise. Every creak. Every time the air conditioner kicks on, my eyes jump to the handle, wondering if…hoping…no, wishing, it was Trey taking me up on my invite.
There’s no way I can finish editing this scene when all it’s making me want to do is climb into Trey’s lap and have him touch me exactly like this fictional Tyson character.
I push away from the table and grab my coffee mug, refill it, and head to the balcony. There’s a large crowd, I assume from the resort, on the beach. Dogs bounce on the sand. Frisbees are thrown. Rows of cabanas with bright-blue curved tops cover those who don’t want to get too much sun. I want to be down there, in the sun, dipping my feet in the water before scurrying up to the resort and splashing in the pool. This is the weekend I’ve needed for months.
Work…and sleep…can wait until after this weekend.
With that thought in mind, I set down my coffee on the kitchen counter and head toward the opened door.
I want lunch, and I want company, and lucky, lucky me, I know just the guy.
My hand trembles as I wrap it around the door handle. Before I can second-guess myself, I turn it, pushing my nerves aside.
Trey’s said I’m welcome whenever I want, and it’s possible he’s not even in here.
I open the door and peek in, only to find his suite is an exact mirror of mine. I’m stunned, almost like I’ve walked through a looking glass in Alice in Wonderland, and I step inside.
And immediately freeze.
Because there is one huge difference between Trey’s suite and mine—
And that’s the sexy-as-hell man, wrapped only in a white towel around his waist, water dripping down his chest, staring directly at me.
Chapter 13
Trey
Luckily for Willow I’ve just gotten out of the shower, where I spent more than a fair amount of time taking care of myself after cleaning away the ocean, so that when she appears in the doorway, I’m calm enough not to instantly reach for her.
Grab her. Slam my mouth to her. Shove my hands into her thick blond hair as we tumble to the couch, the towel at my waist falling as we do. I see it all like it’s happened in real life and clear my throat.
I allow her gaze to linger on my body, my hands on my hips, turning so she can get the full view. One little flick of my thumb where the towel that fell in my quick fantasy is still firmly tucked together and I could give her something even better to stare at.
“Ahem.” I clear my throat, louder a second time when the first doesn’t seem to work. “Are you going to come inside or keep staring at me from the doorway?”
There’s laughter in my voice, but just enough to hide the lust in it. Willow’s hand is still wrapped around the doorknob, and while she drinks me in like she can’t help herself, I know I’ve done the same with her. Hair curled in waves, down, unlike the ponytails and braids I’m used to her wearing. Two thin strings are tied at the back of her neck. I’m assuming it’s a swimsuit hiding under her pale-pink tank top. Denim cutoff shorts barely long enough to cover her ass with the front pockets peeking out from below the frayed hem.
Mile-long legs that, just twenty minutes ago, I imagined wrapped around my waist as I shove her against the tiled shower wall.
“I’m done with work, and hungry.”
Oh. I am definitely hungry. Starving. Not for food, but for a taste of Willow. I walk toward her and she blinks slowly, gaze staying on mine this time as I reach her and cover my hand with hers. A gentle tug uncurls her hand from the door and brings her toward me.
I pull her away before it smacks her shoulder and press my lips to hers. “Have a good morning?” I ask, teasing her with my lips, aware of the fact that I’m half naked. “Sleep well?”
“I did both,” she replies, in this husky, throaty sound that travels into my veins and immediately sets them on fire. What will she be like when I’m deep inside of her and she’s crying out my name?
Perfection, I believe.
“I should put some clothes on if you want to go eat.”
Her hand settles on my stomach. It’s cold, but it doesn’t settle the heat rushing through me. “We could order in.”
I kiss her again, lips closed to silence her. Any more suggestions and I might take her up on it. But I want to give her the best day she’s ever had, and while that would undoubtedly occur by spending all day in my bed, she deserves some fun.
“Splendid idea. Maybe for dinner.” Except we have the rehearsal dinner so we can’t. However, I definitely like not only the way she’s thinking, but also the way she’s looking at me. I take a step back and pray for self-control, releasing her. “For now, have a seat and get yourself something to drink while I go get dressed.”
“Party pooper,” she teases.
I flash her a wink. She’s been uncertain of me and grouchy. She’s defended herself and been honest. What she hasn’t done is been lighthearted. A teaser.
I like all the sides she’s showing me.
* * *
—
At some point during the elevator ride, our hands connected, our fingers tangled together in a way that feels so damn natural, and we walk through the hotel lobby and out to the back patio holding hands. It’s the strangest thing, this girl. And I’ve been kicking my own ass all day long for not making my move sooner.
Note to self: Stop the procrastination and getting lost inside my work so I can actually have a life outside my computer screens.
Turns out trying it isn’t such a bad thing.
“Table for two, please,” I say to the host, a guy who can’t be that much younger than us dressed in a pale-blue polo shirt and khaki-colored shorts. The dress code inside is more formal, but outside, everyone is relaxed and casual. It’s the same place we had a drink last night with Corbin and Teagan, but in the daytime, you get the full, beautiful effect of the ocean all up and down the coast.
“We have a table that seats six available. If you’d like something smaller it will be a twenty-minute wait.”
“The large table is fine,” I say, and gesture for Willow to follow him.
We slide into seats, metal scraping on cement patio in an irritating way, and after he leaves, Willow’s eyes widen as she surveys the area. “It’s so much prettier out here now than it was last night.” A child screeches from the side, where one of the resort’s pools are. “And louder. But fun, too.”
I chuckle. Personally, I think she’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen in years, but for now, I’ve put my back to the ocean, giving her the better seat with a view of the restaurant and the ocean, which means she’s the best thing I have to look at.
“Is it too early to start drinking?” Willow asks, scanning the menu and winking at me. “I don’t usually during the day, and this feels like a vacation, but I don’t want to be the drunk girl at the rehearsal tonight.”
“We’ve got plenty of time for a few drinks and a nap if you need to sleep it off.”
She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth as she scans the menu, grinning at something she sees.
“Something look good?”
“Everything.” She sets the menu down and to the side as a waitress, wearing the same uniform as the host except with much shorter khaki shorts, appears. “Hi, I’m Sammy, and I’ll be your waitress today. Are you ready to order? Drinks?”
Willow points to a slushy-looking blue drink a woman and three of her friends all have at a table near us. “That looks yummy. What is it?”
“Blue raspberry daiquiri.”
“I’ll have that, please.”
She turns to me. “For you?”
“Beer. Whatever you have on tap that’s light.” The daiquiris are large and I have no idea how much alcohol is in them. One of us should probably stay sober for the afternoon. Willow might get to take a nap later, but I’ll have to make sure I’m steady enough on my feet to walk Caitlin down an aisle.
“Sounds good,” Sammy grins. “Appetizers? Anything to start off with?”
I do a quick scan of the menu and order a plate of calamari along with some Southwest shrimp rolls that look good. As Sammy walks away, Willow leans forward, grabbing her water. “That sounds good. Do you know what you plan on eating for lunch?”
“A burger probably. Whatever they have.”
“You seem easy to please.”
Not passing on that innuendo. “Oh, I don’t know. Some would call me very particular. Bossy, even.”
Her cheeks flush in a way I know is not from the heat and she sips her water.
I do the same, looking up, and at the same time almost choke on my water. “Oh. Shit. I totally forgot.”