“I understand.” He didn’t sound like he did, but his words helped. “I’m not used to this either. I’ve always hired an escort from a service, and they’re more skilled at acting, because they’re paid to be. And they certainly don’t argue with me about things.” She ignored the twinge of jealousy at the image of other women with Charlie Delmonico. She was a big girl. This was a no-sex situation, right? He was saying so right now. So why did the idea of him having sex with other women in the past affect her like this? “This is a different situation entirely.”
“The difference being, escorts have sex with you to make the charade more believable?”
To her surprise, his eyes hardened and he settled his silverware across his own plate before leveling a stern gaze on her. She swallowed the piece of foreign fruit she’d just put in her mouth, its initial sweet taste turning sour in her stomach.
What had she said?
“They do things to make the charade more believable, yes. We kiss, touch each other, and murmur in each other’s ears. They act like lovers. They don’t stiffen up when I touch them. They melt into my embrace. Then, yes, we do fuck.” He grabbed his fork between elegant fingers and speared a bite of omelet. “But then again, they don’t know I’m a killer.”
He spoke low, his voice caressing her skin, causing goosebumps to break out.
He’d actually said the words out loud. He was a killer. That should affect her in some way, but instead, she found herself reacting to his other words.
Despite her misgivings about his job, Amelia found herself crossing her legs under the table, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache his words evoked. She was suddenly hot, and the throbbing inside her was deliciously uncomfortable.
She wanted all of those things.
Especially the part about not knowing he was a killer.
If she didn’t know that, would she be willing to do the rest?
“I can do most of that, Mr. Delmonico.”
“It’s Charlie. And not Delmonico. It’s—”
“Stryker. Yes. I’m Mrs. Stryker,” she finished for him, letting him know she was on board.
“And how much are you willing to do?”
She swallowed. “Kiss. Melt. All of the things besides the sex.”
His eyes darkened, and she wondered how far he was going to go. He looked at her like she’d just challenged him and he was going to make her regret it.
And then, when they were back home, in the city, at work, how in the hell she was going to forget his lips on hers and actually get work done?
**
Amelia’s bathing suit was going to be the death of him, even with what passed as a cover-up. It was mesh and completely see-through, so he could see every exposed curve. She’d avoided turning her back to him, but he’d seen it when he’d come out of the bathroom, and she’d been talking to the hotel boy who’d brought breakfast.
He’d nearly groaned at the sight. He could kiss whoever told her this was a suit he would like, because he was confident Amelia wouldn’t have it otherwise.
It was a string bikini, not rare at all, but the butt of it went deep into her crack, showing off the ass he’d imagined so many times. A deep purple, her tits spilled around the edges of the triangles, which was heavenly enough. But the bottoms were fucking exquisite.
He longed to walk behind her with the dual advantages of getting to see her walk in it, her ass bouncing with each step, and blocking anyone else’s view of her. But he settled with walking next to her, draping an arm around her waist, tugging her next to him. She looked up at him, her eyes so wide and innocent he wanted to get lost in them. She wrapped her arm around his waist, clinging to him. Then offered him a small smile.
Charlie liked it more than he cared to admit. She had said she was willing to do the things his escorts did, so he dropped his mouth to hers, taking what she was inadvertently offering him.
As soon as his lips touched hers, in what was supposed to be a casual peck on the lips, she froze again. He stopped walking and wrapped the arm around her waist tighter, tugging her to his body, willing her to melt.
Melt, dammit.
And melt, she did. Her soft curves molded to him, her pelvis against his, her breasts pressing against him. Her mouth opened, and he took it, like a pirate and his plunder.
He dropped the picnic basket the hotel had packed and wrapped his other hand around her, grabbing the ass he’d fantasized about. Firm, supple, Jesus God, it was everything he wanted.
And her tongue was so sweet as it timidly touched his own. They swirled together in an exploratory dance that had him hard as a goddamn rock. He broke the kiss before he lost control and stared at her breathlessly.
He was still grabbing her ass, his hand having delved between the cheeks into the heat he craved.
She breathed every bit as hard as he did, her tits pressed against his bare chest, her nipples poking him through her suit.
“Shit. Just like that.” His voice didn’t sound normal, but that was expected. She had just kissed him better than any other of the women he’d paid for the experience had. He forced himself to take a step back and adjusted his erection in his suit before stooping to pick up the picnic basket and dropping his arm back over her shoulders. “Just fucking like that.”
That was all he could manage to say as he led them to two lounge chairs on the beach. He scooted them together, as newlyweds would. That’s what he told himself anyway, because he didn’t want a doubt in any other man’s mind that she wasn’t his. They weren’t siblings on some family vacation together. They were fucking together.
She didn’t speak as she settled into the lounge chair and got out some sort of lotion and started spreading it across her smooth skin. He watched, unable not to, and realized he was so goddamn hungry for her. It would be a miracle if he made it through this week without fucking her the way he wanted.
Needed.
Yeah, she was a distraction he could hardly afford, since he hadn’t thought of anything else since he’d awoken to find her sleeping next to him. She was so damn sweet and innocent, and he’d just watched her, marveling at how she’d ended up in his bed. Amelia had been angry yesterday. It was a familiar anger, born of fear, and he fucking loved it.
He had a great desire to see more of it. He loved it when people were afraid of him; it gave him power, and he wanted power over Amelia.
Now, she wasn’t afraid of him, but she wanted him. That much was obvious, from the way she’d clenched at their talk over breakfast, to her agreement to do some physical things with him, to the kiss they’d just shared.
And he loved that too. He had a desire to see how far she would go with that want.
As she caressed her skin, rubbing sunscreen into it, he realized her skin was delicate, unkissed by the sun. She would burn if she didn’t use it.
“Turn over, let me.” He wasn’t capable of complete sentences at this point, but she understood what he wanted.
Starting at her shoulders, he smoothed the lotion over her skin, then rubbed it in. Then he moved down her back, making sure to get underneath the string that tied, resisting the urge to untie it. Then down her back, to her ass. He spent a lot of time there, rubbing and smoothing, pulling her cheeks apart to see what he could see. The valley to her pussy had him groaning aloud, and he didn’t give a shit who heard him.
He massaged her as he rubbed in the lotion, going back over her again, spending even more time on the delicate cheeks of her ass. He didn’t want her skin to burn, certainly not there. He wanted to spread her wide and fuck her there. Badly.
She was his. He wasn’t pretending now. As he rubbed the lotion down the backs of her legs, he was lost in the feel of her smooth skin, the way it lightened when he pressed down, then reddened slightly in his wake. He wondered how it would look with the blush of a good spanking, and he was hard again.
Then he kissed the back of her calves, the backs of her knees, watching the goosebumps on
her skin. The breeze off the ocean cooled the sun, but her skin was downright hot as he kissed, then nipped at the globes of her ass before kissing again, first one then the other. He licked up her back, tasting salt and sunscreen as he got to her shoulders, where he kissed her again. She whimpered and squirmed slightly, but didn’t move.
When he finished, he went back to his own chaise lounge, and reclined, watching her. She stayed where she was, on her stomach, with her eyes closed. He looked at the press of her tits on the chair, admiring the curves.
Finally, he forced himself to lean back in the chair and close his eyes, lurid images of the two of them together burning his retinas.
**
Amelia didn’t know which way was up by the time Charlie had finished with her body. When he’d started, she been so tense she didn’t know how she would ever relax. By the time he was done, she was putty, nothing but a dripping puddle of sensations on the beach.
He’d taken his time, inviting all sorts of images of sensual lovemaking, sweaty nights on rumpled sheets, cries of ecstasy in the darkened air of their hotel room. His hands were large, rough, and entirely welcome. He could do what he wanted to and she’d be on board with all of it, no matter what she had told him over breakfast.
When he was finished, she dozed, until a trickle of sweat ran down her leg and she decided to walk to the water to cool off.
“I’m going to go dip in the water and get wet.”
Charlie wore sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but he told her, “I’ll watch.” The tone of his voice suggested more, but she wasn’t sure how to take it, so she simply gave him a small smile before getting up.
She walked down to the water, aware of his eyes on her. She didn’t like this bathing suit. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but he made her feel really pretty when he looked at her in it, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad. The part she hated the most, he seemed to really enjoy if the amount of time he’d spent rubbing sunscreen into her bottom was any indication.
She sighed, wondering what she’d gotten herself into with him. She was attached, as much as she didn’t want to be. Amelia longed for things to happen between them, even though she was scared of the man, and didn’t know how to act when they got back to work.
She got into the water up to her thighs and looked down. She could see her toes, with little silvery fishes swimming around them, darting this way and that. A few swam up and nibbled, testing her out, before dashing away. It tickled, and she giggled, shifting her feet to watch them scatter.
Pulling water up her body with her hands, she felt the coolness as it cascaded over her body, then went a little deeper before turning back to the shore. Charlie was on the chair, his sunglasses-clad eyes on her. She gave him a little wave, then dove into the water.
It was cool, but not cold, and she felt it against her heated face as she swam a little ways underwater before coming back up. She brushed her hair back off her face and paddled around a little before declaring herself cool and going back. She’d get some sun on her front side while she read her book.
When she returned, Charlie held two glasses of something bright yellow with tiny umbrellas and skewers of fruit sticking out of the top.
She decided right then and there to just go with things. Charlie Delmonico couldn’t be all that bad, and this was a vacation she’d never ever dreamed of going on. She would enjoy it and do what he was paying her to do. After that rubdown, even sex wasn’t off the table, if he wanted.
Chapter Thirteen
They spent the next two days playing at being honeymooners in the sunshine. She kissed him whenever she got the chance and let him rub sunscreen on her backside when he told her that’s what he was going to do. Charlie didn’t ask. Ever. And she didn’t mind.
They snorkeled, and she couldn’t get over all the fish that just swam around them, seemingly unafraid. The underwater landscape was breathtaking, and she spent a long time just floating and looking, everything quiet in the oasis under water.
They sat on the beach and drank fruity drinks, and ate the picnic lunches the hotel staff packed. It was decadent, and Amelia didn’t have any problems pretending she was rich and used to this sort of lifestyle.
It was fun.
And she spent the entire time on the edge of going mad with arousal as he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. He liked her second bathing suit even more than the first, apparently. It was similar to the first, only instead of deep purple, it was white with small pink flowers on it, and had a small ruffle along her hip before delving into the depths of her butt. She was getting used to his ogling her down there, even giving him a little shimmy when she first emerged from the bathroom wearing it.
Monday morning, they woke to shower and dress like real people instead of beach bums. They had an appointment to open an account that afternoon.
He wore a light-gray suit, and she dressed in a tight-fitting dress that opened up and flowed below her knees. It was demure enough for a bank setting, yet sexy enough for the island life she was falling in love with. It had wide straps over her shoulders, and a squared neckline that dipped low enough to show her tanning cleavage. The time in the sunshine had given her pale skin the kiss of the sun, and she felt beautiful on Charlie’s arm.
She slicked her dark hair back from her face, letting it fall behind her ears, and wore little diamond studs from her grandma.
“Wear heels.”
She tilted her head and complied, finding a pair of silver heels with straps around the ankles and putting them on.
She didn’t question him, because she now looked perfect.
As they walked out of the lobby, her hand on his arm, he leaned down to her ear. “You look gorgeous.”
She beamed up at him and gave him a peck on the lips, ignoring how very not pretend it felt. “I feel gorgeous.”
“I can tell.” His other hand came on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. She wondered if any of this was an act for him, then shut down that thought. She knew what was happening, and she couldn’t afford for it to. She was developing feelings for this man, and she knew it was because he’d basically paid for her to have a new life, and here she was, turning into everything she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. Then she’d talked herself around it, justifying her own actions.
She was liking this pretend life he’d paid for.
No better than one of his escorts.
That thought soured her mood.
“I booked us a couples massage after the bank, to keep up with appearances.”
“Okay,” she said, even though the idea of him spending more money on her turned her stomach. Everything was fine as long as they were on the beach, but now he was back to business Charlie, and she was his arm candy. Exactly what he’d told her in the “interview” when he’d hired her.
She’d do well to remember.
“And I wanted to warn you, there will be an exorbitant amount of money exchanged today. Don’t act shocked. Mr. Stryker is a day trader and doesn’t want to pay taxes on the amount of money he’s acquired.”
“Gotcha.”
It was all a ruse. Every bit of it.
But he was so good at it. When they arrived at the bank, he helped her out of the car with an outstretched hand, and immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her inside.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stryker! So happy you could break away from paradise to meet with us. I’m Anthony Wright.” A well-dressed gentleman with dark hair and skinny mustache met them at the door. How he knew their name was a mystery, but Charlie shook his hand warmly.
“It’s a pleasure to be here. This is a beautiful island, and we are enjoying ourselves immensely. Aren’t we, darling?” He looked down at her for an answer, his eyes twinkling with the shared game.
“Yes, so much! I’m wanting to do a boat tour later in the week. Do you have any you’d recommend?”
“Absolutely,” the rich island accent made Amelia feel welcomed a
nd warm. She really could live here. “I have several private charters I can recommend. Let’s go into my office and get the business out of the way.”
Charlie had a large duffel bag, and presumably it held cash, that he carried in the hand he wasn’t using to hold Amelia. When they followed Mr. Wright into his office, Charlie took her hand in his.
They sat, and while the men talked, Amelia’s mind wandered. She looked at Charlie’s square jaw and lush lips as he spoke. He shaved off the stubble of the weekend this morning, and she’d almost missed it. Not that she’d ever touched it, but she had imagined what it might feel like. And it had felt nice when they kissed.
She wanted to kiss him more. Even if this was a ruse. She’d gotten back into the justification of things and knew that’s where she wanted to stay for the duration of the holiday. She could get back to the self-loathing when they got home.
“How much are we depositing today?” Mr. Wright asked pleasantly, but the greedy glimmer to his eyes couldn’t be mistaken.
Charlie casually spouted a number, and aside from a brief widening of her eyes, Amelia was proud of her reaction.
That much money fit into the duffel? And they’d had it with them this entire time? Left in their room? Granted, she watched him get it out of the room safe this morning, but still. That was a monumental shit ton of money.
**
Back at the hotel, their business at the bank concluded, Charlie took her hand and led her straight to the spa.
“I sure could use something to relax after that.” He murmured as they went to where a man dressed in scrubs greeted them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stryker, come this way.”
He led them to a room with two massage tables. “Undress and cover with the sheet. We will be back in a moment.”
Perfect Drug Page 7