Jenna stood, and the two of them came together in a swift, intense kiss. Then they waved at the crowd and strolled together, arms around each other’s waists, out the dining room exit onto the terrace outside.
Sophie caught that tormented look on Vann’s face again. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You tell me,” she said. “You seem off tonight. Too quiet. And tense.”
Vann drained his wineglass. “It’s been a long day,” he said tersely.
“Understood,” Sophie said, standing up. “Go rest, then. See you in the morning.”
He caught her wrist as she started to leave the table. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“To the beach. I’ve never walked on a beach on this side of the Pacific before.”
“Not alone,” he said.
“Oh, please,” she said. “I bet almost everyone at this table apart from Malcolm will end up out there on the beach. It’s perfectly safe. Go to bed. Don’t trouble yourself.”
“Hell, no,” he said. “I’m going with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, then. Suit yourself.”
The terrace outside segued into a walkway leading to an observation deck that overlooked the sea cliffs. A staircase to the beach below was bolted to the cliff face. The gleaming expanse of wet sand was lapped by the wide, foamy waves, and broken at intervals by jagged humps and spires of black volcanic rock. There was a bright, eerie glow on the water as the almost full moon lit up the night.
Vann led her to the head of the stairway. “There’s a wooden shelf here where you can leave your shoes,” he said.
Sweet relief, to slip off her heels. Vann took off his own shoes, and they made their way down the sandy staircase, zigging and zagging until they reached the bottom.
Their feet sank into the cool, dry sand as they slowly worked their way over to the water. The foam was icy cold when it first rushed over Sophie’s feet, and she gasped and laughed. Vann stopped to roll up the legs of his pants.
At some point, she stumbled on a rock that poked up out of the sand. Vann caught her arm to steady her, and his hand slipped down to clasp her fingers, squeezing them as the cold water had numbed away the pain of her stubbed toes.
The contact made the memories of their passionate night flare through her body, making her weak with fresh yearning. She tugged her hand free. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t you dare play dumb,” she said. “We’ve been through this. Your best friend is getting married. His uncle is your boss. Let’s nix any potential drama and concentrate on what’s important here, which is Drew’s wedding.”
“There’s nothing shocking or dramatic about holding hands on a moonlit beach.”
Sophie took a step away from him. “Depends on the context. And the audience.”
They looked around. As Sophie had predicted, several people had taken Drew and Jenna’s suggestion. The happy couple were a tiny bit farther up on the beach. They were madly kissing each other, not caring who saw.
Lucky them.
“What would it take to get us to the point where we could hold hands on a beach?” Vann demanded. He sounded almost angry.
Sophie’s chin went up. “We’d have to do the work,” she said. “It’s not instant. It’s not automatic. You know, the way sex can be sometimes. Maybe that was a mistake.”
“No,” he said. “That was the farthest thing from a mistake I ever felt.”
“Nice to hear, but even so,” Sophie said. “We’d need transformation before hand-holding on a beach could happen. We’d have to make some big choices. Come to some conclusions about things. Otherwise, nothing. So stop it. You’re bugging me tonight.”
“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Vann said.
“It’s fine.” She turned her back on him and walked away.
Vann trailed along behind her for a while before catching up and walking next to her again. The silence was starting to weigh on her, so she threw out a conversation opener as a peace offering.
“Your friends seem wonderful,” she commented. “What a fun group of people.”
“Yes, they are. I’m lucky. Drew and Zack are like brothers to me. Not that I had brothers as a kid, but I like to imagine it would be like my relationship with them.”
“I have good friends like that, but they’re scattered all over the world,” she said. “One’s still in Singapore, one is in Hong Kong, one got married to a guy from Sydney. A couple of them are in Europe. I never see them all together. And I hardly ever see any of them face-to-face. Just phone calls, or Skype.”
“That’s tough,” he said. “It must be lonely.”
Sophie didn’t reply. For a moment, she couldn’t trust her own voice. Her throat felt hot and soft. Admitting to loneliness was taking this instant intimacy a little too far. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her.
She turned away from him, staring out at the streak of moonlight on the sea and the surges of surf. They’d almost reached the end of this expanse of beach, and were coming to a more jagged, rocky place full of tide pools. Without a word, they turned and started back the way they came. They were quiet this time, but she was intensely aware of Vann’s tall, brooding presence. The water boiled and frothed around her toes and ankles. The salty breeze whipped her skirt and lifted her hair like a banner.
His spell was working on her again. Being out in the infinite hugeness of this beautiful place...it fed that part of her that yearned for freedom, wildness. The same part of her that hungered for Vann. His power, his energy. His sexual generosity.
Sophie climbed back up the many long flights of steps that hugged the cliff side. Her shoes had gone clammy and sticky in the humid sea air, so she didn’t bother putting them back on her sandy feet, but just walked down the wooden walkway barefoot.
Vann walked her to the door of her cabin. “Wait,” he said as she reached for her key card.
“What?”
“Look at this. For sandy feet.” Vann stepped on a small wooden pallet placed near the stepstone, and grabbed a small, retractable spray hose coiled up there.
He rinsed the sand off his own feet, and then gestured for her to step on the pallet.
Once she did so, Vann aimed the stream of cool water over her feet.
It was yet another one of his seductive tricks. The rush of cool water was soothing. He brushed the sticky sand off, caressing her feet with his hands.
The contact made her speechless and flustered. She fumbled for her key card. Fumbled again as she tried to find the switch that turned on the lights. Vann waited silently outside the door.
She turned around and beckoned impatiently for him to enter. “Oh, just get in here before someone sees you lurking.”
He came inside and shut the door, but didn’t walk into the room. “You’re still mad at me,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “Because you’re still sulking. And you won’t tell me why.”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I want to know what the hell your problem is. So I can understand if it’s fixable or not.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” His voice was guarded.
She flapped her hand at him angrily. “You’re different tonight. All wound up. Negative. You weren’t like that last night, so what’s changed?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry if I’m pissing you off.”
She waited for more, then shook her head in frustration. “You can’t say what’s wrong?”
“No,” he said. “Sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
She tried to read his face, but it was an impenetrable mask. “Did I say or do something that bothered you?”
“Not at all,” he said. “You’re perfect.”
> She snorted. “Hardly that. Then what is it?”
He turned toward the door. “I think I’d better go.”
“Stop it,” she snapped. “I already told you to come in. I want you here, but not the whole night. I don’t want people seeing you leave in the morning, and have to deal with the snickering and the side-eye. I’m at a disadvantage here as it is. Understand?”
He set his shoes down. “As you command.”
She gave him a narrow look. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Hell, no,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Sophie put her hands on her hips. “Before anything else happens,” she said. “Let’s discuss a couple logistical details. We got carried away last night, and we never talked about safe sex. I trust you have more condoms with you?”
“Only one. I didn’t have a chance to buy more. But I’ll make that one count.”
“You’d better,” she said. “But while we’re talking about this, I’ll take this opportunity to tell you that I haven’t been with anyone for a long time, and I’ve had bloodwork done since then. I’m disease free. Just so you know.”
“Thanks for bringing it up, and so am I,” he told her. “I always use condoms. I get tested regularly, and I’ve been tested since the last time I was involved with someone.”
Sophie bit her lip thoughtfully as she weighed the risks and temptations. He did not strike her as dishonest. By no means. Moody, yes. Mysterious, yes. But not a liar.
“In that case, shall we dispense with the latex?” she said, her voice tentative. “I have a contraceptive implant, and it’s good for another year or so.”
Vann’s throat worked. “Whoa,” he muttered. “That would be...incredible. I would love it. I’m honored that you trust me that much.”
“I haven’t done that with anyone, ever,” she told him. “I never wanted to risk it before. But tonight, for some reason, I do.”
“Thank you,” he said.
They gazed at each other in a moment of confused shyness.
Sophie shook it off with some difficulty. “So, Vann,” she said. “Since yesterday’s adventure started with me naked and you fully clothed, let’s switch it up. Your turn, buddy. Strip. Let’s see your stuff.”
Vann’s lips twitched, but he undressed quickly. Shirt, belt, pants. In moments, he stood there, stark naked, and ready to play from the looks of his stiff erection.
He reached out, sliding the silk jacket off her shoulders. “Your turn,” he said.
He took his time with peeling off the close-fitting knit top. He explored the contours of the balcony-lace demi bra that propped up her bosom, his thumb sliding across her nipple, taut and dark against the lace. He slid his hands to her waist and sank down to his knees, pressing his face against her belly. The warmth of his breath heated the chiffon fabric of her skirt. He stroked his big, hot hands slowly up her legs beneath her skirt. Hooking her panties, he eased them down.
She stepped out of them, gasping as he pushed the front of her skirt up and pressed his face against her. Kissing, caressing, opening her with lips and tongue.
She watched the shockingly intimate scene in the mirror. Her in just her skirt and bra, him naked on his knees, her skirt bunched up at her belly as he pleasured her. The back view of him would have taken her breath away if she had any breath to take.
She clutched his shoulders, swaying on her feet, panting with shocked delight at the tender swirl and flick of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh. She wound her fingers into his warm hair as the wild sensations lifted her—and then sent her flying.
Vann was on his feet, holding her steady. She barely noticed as he peeled the rest of her clothes off. She just felt gravity shifting and was aware of being lifted. Then cool sheets pressed against her back, and his scorching heat came down next to her.
“Wait,” she said.
He went still, eyes narrowed. “Yeah? What for?”
“You lie down on your back,” she said. “I want to look at you.”
He rolled over, head propped on the pillow. She feasted her eyes on that gorgeously strong male body, draped lazily across the bed. He held his stiff erection in his hand. He stroked it slowly as he smiled, his dark, sultry bedroom eyes saying, Come and get it. If you dare.
His self-assurance aroused her. Without ever seeming arrogant, he had complete confidence that he could please her. He instinctively knew how.
It switched her on like nothing ever had.
Sophie clambered over him, swinging her leg over his until she had him right where she needed him. She slowly took him inside...undulating, rising and falling, until the pleasure surged up, hot and sweet and wrenching.
When she came back up for air, Vann had rolled her over onto her back, folding her legs high. He propped himself up on his elbows as he once again pushed inside her clinging warmth and began to move. Surging, rocking. She was so primed, after what had come before. Slick and soft and sensitized. Every slow, gliding thrust made her whimper with delight.
The bed shook as their rhythm quickened. Sophie writhed, digging her nails into him, goading him on. That hugeness was opening up in her mind again, the endless space and power that she’d felt on the beach with the stars and the sky and the sea. Wild magic, wild mystery. Pleasure exploding, flinging them into that enormous nowhere together.
Sophie floated in the glow of residual pleasure. When she opened her eyes, she turned to look at Vann with a lazy, satiated smile.
He didn’t smile back.
He almost looked like he was bracing himself.
A chill settled into her, someplace very deep.
She tried to breathe down the hurt, but she had no barriers right now. Her walls were down, but he’d kept his own walls as high as ever. That hurt.
Be a grown-up, she lectured herself. He’d made no promises to her. This was just a fun, hot thing for him. Women must throw themselves at him all the time.
She was the one making it stupid by getting all emotional. Like a shivering virgin falling like a ton of bricks for the first guy who ever touched her.
She was careful to keep her tone light. “There you go again. All down in the mouth. What is it with you tonight, Vann?”
Vann shook his head, but he didn’t deny it. “I can’t seem to shake it.”
Sophie rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “If what just happened can’t make you feel better, nothing will,” she said. “If you’re so miserable, why are you here?”
“Because I’m starving for more,” he said. “Because I never want it to stop.”
She was taken aback by his stark intensity. And confused. “You just got more,” she said slowly. “A lot more. And you’ve still got that sad look on your face.”
Vann clapped his hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he ground out. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t control the way I feel. It just happens.”
“I understand.” Sophie slid off the bed. “That settles it. Go sulk in your own room. That was hot and fabulous, but we’re done, Vann. Like always, it’s been real.”
“Sophie—”
“I’m getting into the shower. When I’m out, I want the room to myself.”
“I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“You say you can’t control the way you feel. Well, neither can I. Good night.”
She made it into the bathroom just in time and set the shower running, hand pressed to her quivering lips. She welcomed the hot spray coming down on her face.
She wished she could wash away those inconvenient feelings. Be empty and free of them. Then the shower door creaked. A rush of cool air kissed her skin.
Vann stepped inside with her. His big body took up all the space, making the huge shower stall suddenly feel cramped. She dashed water from her face, and opened her mouth to tell him to back the hell off—an
d then she saw his eyes. Pain he couldn’t express.
She recognized that nameless pain. She’d felt it herself. “Vann—”
He cut her off with a kiss. It was too sweet and too hot to resist.
Vann hit the faucet to switch the shower off. In the steamy, dripping quiet she could hear her own heart thudding in her ears, her own breathless, helpless whimpering gasps. The sounds of absolute sensual surrender.
He spun her around, placing her hands flat against the wall, and then pulled her hips back and nudged her feet apart. She opened to him, arching her back as he reached around with his hand to expertly caress her as he sank his thick shaft slowly inside her.
She rocked back, trying to take him deeper, but he kept his surging rhythm slow and relentless. The heavy, gliding thrusts were delicious, each one stoking her excitement until she wanted to claw and scream at him.
He finally gave in to her demands and moved faster, harder, rising to meet the power building up inside her.
She cried out as the intense sensations raging through her body wiped her out.
Vann stayed inside her afterward, his face pressed to her neck. He bit her shoulder gently, then tenderly licked the spot. “I know I was supposed to go,” he said. “I just can’t seem to pry myself away.”
“You are the master of mixed signals, you know that?”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sick of your apologizing,” she said. “Go back to your room now.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes,” she said. “There are some definitions to get straight. There’s scenario A, a secret workplace affair. That’s a specific set of rules and expectations. Then there’s scenario B, a boyfriend. Totally different rules and expectations. You’re mixing them up. You’re not my boyfriend. Don’t act like you are. That’s a whole other level of intimacy.”
“This feels pretty intimate to me,” he said.
She squirmed out of his grip, and turned the water back on, soaping herself up without looking at him. “My job is important to me,” she said. “Don’t threaten it.”
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