Pure Attraction

by Rebecca Hunter

  A blush was creeping up her neck, an interesting contrast to her purple hair. Byron waved off her apology.

  “It’s okay,” he said, and he meant it. “I realize this is a rather...unorthodox arrangement.”

  Truthfully, he was glad Alana felt comfortable enough to make a slip like that. He wanted everyone who worked at the Kalani to feel comfortable there, particularly because ultra-luxury settings often leaned toward a more formal atmosphere. His resort didn’t. Every last detail was cared for, and yet, he’d wanted to capture the best of what he loved about Hawaii, which included relaxation and intimacy. He wanted the vacation retreat to breathe aloha, the idea his father had taught him at a young age, an idea New York had been sucking out of him since he was six, when his mother left his father and took Byron with her. He didn’t blame Alana for being curious, either. While he did make a habit of dropping in on different jobs around the resort, it was never to give personal service.

  Alana seemed to be recovering from her slip, and now she looked like she had something on her mind. “Mr. Keahi, I just wanted to make sure you were aware that Miss Van Buren specifically made a reservation at the Hilltop Restaurant.”

  Byron held back his smile. “I’m aware of that. And I will take full responsibility if our guest complains.”

  It was the second time he was putting aside Jessie’s request, though that wasn’t his intention. It was just that he had less than twenty-four hours to impress her, to satisfy her, to give her what she needed. Would she think he was an asshole to assume that he knew what she needed better than she did? He preferred to see this another way: he was giving her what she wouldn’t think to ask for. And if she wasn’t into his surprise? He was arriving enough in advance that Alana could make her reservation at the Hilltop Restaurant, as originally planned. Either way, Jessie would be getting a bonus tonight.

  Alana closed up the rest of the cartons and stacked them into two of the boxes the resort used to deliver food to the cabins.

  “Can I put this in one of the carts?” She gestured out the door, where electric-powered carts waited, ready for servers to deliver guests’ food requests, any time of the day.

  Byron shook his head.

  “And I am assuming you don’t want a server to assist you.”

  Byron shook his head again. “I’ll make this delivery.”

  He thanked Alana and then started off on foot, carrying the two meal boxes in each hand, one cold and the other hot. The evening was warm, and the sun had sunk toward the horizon, coloring the trees with shades of orange and red, beautiful and perfect. The thrill of what was coming ran through him, and walking helped him focus. Byron went over each detail of his plan: the way he’d watch her with every bit of his attention, how close he’d stand, how he’d serve her, anticipating the way that she’d respond. Then, after he served her meal, it was her move.

  Back by the side of the van, he was glad she cut it off before things went further, and not just for the pleasure of waiting. They weren’t teenagers, making out at the side of the road, and he wasn’t doing anything halfway. No sloppy, rushed efforts to make her come. He wanted to take his time, which meant no matter how much he’d wanted to please her, it was better to wait.

  Of course, she might ask him to leave after he served her food. Byron smiled. He wouldn’t put it past her to do just that. But he was banking on the idea that she’d be too curious to say no.

  Byron walked along the main road of the resort, past the pools he had so thoroughly enjoyed the night before. Fuck, he was dreading going back to New York tomorrow. Back to the city, and back to the Hayden Properties office. He had been groomed to be the next CEO since the day his second half-sister was born. Byron’s mother wasn’t the maternal type, and after two tries for Robert Hayden’s male heir, she was more than done. With his last chance for a biological son gone, Robert had reluctantly turned his legacy efforts to Byron. Byron had gone along with the plan as a way to please his mother, back when he was still under the illusion that she could ever be proud of him. But he’d also found he was good at financial decisions, and he could ensure that Hayden Properties made them ethically, with the employees in mind.

  He’d never loved the New York business world, not the way Minli Chen, the COO, did. Five years ago, he should have left the future of Hayden Properties in her hands and headed for Hawaii, bringing his New York knowledge to build an island-based business with his father. It would have meant no more traveling, no more life at a New York pace. Instead, he’d have devoted himself full-time to developing sustainable vacation destinations in Hawaii. The Kalani was ultra-luxury, but with his father, he’d have created other places, too, both high-end and more affordable.

  Now it was too late to build something with his father, and with his passing, Walter Keahi’s connections and projects died, too. Byron had missed his last opportunity, all because of his obsession with Anna. Their bedroom dynamic had melted into the rest of their lives, mixing every decision he made with the challenge of pleasing her. Though their sex life never dimmed, there were times he wasn’t even sure if she liked him. Still, he agreed not to move to Hawaii, just for her. Now his father was gone, and the Kalani, the fulfillment of his promise to his father, was under his stepfather’s control. Which effectively meant Byron was, too, until he figured out how to extract himself without feeling like he was letting down his father. Robert Hayden wanted him to be the next CEO, to carry on his legacy, and Robert wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate Byron to get what he wanted. He could press the board to sell the Kalani or put it under new management—and out of Byron’s hands.

  Which meant he was tied to Hayden Properties for the foreseeable future. But he didn’t have to worry about New York until tomorrow evening. Right now, all his attention could be on tonight.

  Byron turned onto the path to Jessie’s cabin, and the place came into view. The word cabin was definitely an understatement—an intentional contrast to the exclusive price tag. The idea of a cabin on the beach evoked ideas like privacy, escape and intimacy—all of which the Kalani gave in spades. The resort’s accommodations were priced far out of reach of anything considered a cabin, and that was in part a product of his commitment to creating a sustainable resort around the resources and traditions of Hawaii. Even the size of the resort had been designed with the parameters of sourcing in mind. Too big and they would need to look farther than the islands for materials, but a smaller resort meant the impact on the local economy would be less.

  Getting the structures right meant starting with locally sourced materials and locally manufactured items, so that the money went back to the island as much as possible. He’d hired an islander with a portfolio full of private residences, and she had created a luxury haven from the best of what the island had to offer. Reclaimed wood, volcanic rock, wooden furniture from local artisans and patio furniture woven from banana leaves... Byron had told the architect and the interior design firm to be creative, and both had listened. Though resorts had never been his dream, he had managed to find a way to use it for a project that meant something. Though it wasn’t his most profitable or even his best-known property, the Kalani was Byron’s most important one.

  He walked up the path to Jessie’s door. It was reclaimed mango wood, with a hand-carved handle since he couldn’t find locally sourced metal. But right now, the details of the resort were fading because behind this door was an incredibly sexy woman, and if he played these next minutes right, he’d do more than just serve her food. He was very good at playing things right. It was the outcomes of well-played moments that were less predictable.

  Byron set down one of the food boxes and knocked on the door. Waited. The trees swished around him, blowing in the wind, as his heart kicked up in his chest. He knocked again.

  “I have your meal, ma’am,” he called, suppressing a smile. Just the words themselves were an invitation to a fantasy, one he was hoping like hell she’d want to
play with.

  If she came to the door. Byron had checked her schedule to make sure she had no other appointments in the late afternoon. He supposed she could have gone out for an evening surf, in which case he could wait here until she got back. But otherwise, she was most likely inside.

  He knocked on the door one more time. “Miss Van Buren?” His voice was a little louder.

  After another quiet moment, he heard footsteps inside, coming across the cabin floor. Byron picked up the food box and stood at attention, his pulse thumping in his chest. This was it.

  Jessie open the door, and her eyes widened. “It was you.”

  Her red swimsuit peeked out from under a white cover-up that skimmed the tops of her full thighs, and her hair was piled on top of her head, wisps escaping from every angle like a halo. Water dripped down her arms, as if she had just emerged from lounging in the pool. Byron bit back a smile as the image formed in his mind.

  This was the moment he had thought through since the morning was here. And he was hoping like hell she was into it.

  “I’ve come with the meal you ordered, ma’am.” He emphasized that last word, letting his voice dip lower. “I thought you might like it in a more intimate setting.”

  Her brow furrowed, and he wondered if he’d miscalculated. He had alluded to coming by her cabin when they were in his van, but maybe she hadn’t taken the suggestion seriously? Then, he saw the moment when she caught on to the game. The moment she decided she wanted to play it.

  Her expression transformed. The lovely wide-eyed woman from just moments ago was gone. In her place was a haughty, demanding guest who would take what she wanted. Byron’s cock stirred in his pants, all too ready to play.

  “Take it to the lanai,” she said, her tone bored as she opened the door further.

  But as he passed, her gaze traveled down his body in a hot lick of heat, like she was sizing him up for her use, and she liked what she saw.

  He walked through the entranceway of the cabin, through the main room, to the French doors where the evening sun shone in, lighting everything. The doors led out to an enclosed U-shaped lanai that offered privacy. At the center was a pool and just beyond it were steps that led down to the beach. The sun shimmered over the surface of the water.

  Byron carried the food boxes to a wooden table just outside the doors, and laid them on the ground. He set the table, arranging the linens, dishes and glasses exactly the way Alana had instructed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jessie, hands on her hips, watching him. When both boxes were unloaded, he turned around, clasped his hands behind his back and met her gaze. Her expression was cool, assessing, but there was heat in her eyes, too. A shudder of pleasure ran through him. This was what he craved, the taunting, the electric heat between them. Before Jessie, it had been so long since he’d had an encounter that was truly satisfying, and she’d stepped into this game with such ease. It was perfect. She was perfect.

  Careful. Sheila’s warning came back, but he pushed it away. Right now, all he wanted to think about was Jessie.

  “I can serve your meal whenever you’re ready, ma’am,” he said, letting some of the desire seep into his voice. “Would you like to eat now?”

  “You’re here to serve my food?” she asked, giving his body a deliberate perusal.

  “Yes. And any other services you might want.”

  There was a hint of a smile on her face, and it was a selfish smile. Another rush of pleasure ran through him, and he fought to suppress his reaction.

  “I’ll consider other services,” she said, giving his body another slow inspection. “But I’ll eat something first.”

  Her cover-up slipped down over one shoulder, exposing her bare skin as she sat down, waiting to be served. By him. Byron swallowed, pushing away images of getting on his knees and serving her right there, on the chair. Patience.

  Instead, he found the miso soup and seaweed salad and served them into the white, square dishes. Her gaze was heavy and hot as she stared, licking her lips, sizing him up. The pull between them grew stronger, and Byron stepped back, waiting. Then she turned her full attention to her food, ignoring him completely. He had long ago stopped asking himself why this turned him on, being treated like he was some sort of plaything, but it was rare that he found a woman who did this so perfectly.

  When she finished, he cleared her dishes. “Ready for your next course, ma’am?”

  “I want to swim first.”

  She didn’t bother looking at him, just stood up and pulled the cover-up over her head, which left her in the same red bathing suit she had worn at the beach. The one that dipped low, revealing the curve of her breasts. But before he could take the time to appreciate that view, she was taking her bathing suit off, too. One strap slid down her arm, then the second, uncovering her breasts. His cock jumped, and finally, he stopped fighting it. He just let himself enjoy her. Jessie peeled off her bathing suit and slid it down her legs, leaving it in a heap by her feet, next to her cover-up. She stepped out of it and started for the pool. Fuck, she was glorious and so goddamn sexy.

  Jessie took a few languid strides without a glance at him. She stopped when she reached the edge of the pool and lifted her hands to her hair, untying the knot that held it up. The sun glowed around her, and the whole tableau shimmered with magic. Slowly, waves of her white-blond hair unraveled, fluttering down her back. Byron watched, entranced, as she shook it out.

  “Bring me my towel,” she said, without turning around. She gestured to the edge of the pool next to her. “Set it right here for when I’m ready to get out.”

  Before Byron could shake himself out of his lust-fueled daze, Jessie lifted her arms over her head and dove into the water.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JESSIE FLOATED THROUGH the pool, moving with long strokes, taking her time, letting her body simply feel. After another slow stroke, she broke the surface, turning to lie on her back. She looked up into the purple evening sky, alive with stars.

  She didn’t have to look to know that Byron’s gaze was fixed on her. The owner of this luxury resort was watching her, waiting to serve her any way she wanted. The idea was a rush, hot and powerful. Was he getting impatient, just watching her swim? She hoped so, because her instincts were telling her to make him wait. And as it turned out, she was having a good time with Byron watch her selfishly enjoy herself. She floated on her back, imagining what she wanted to do next.

  Byron’s appearance at her door this evening had been a surprise, and it had taken her a moment to register his subtle invitation into the worker-guest game. But once she had understood, she was one hundred percent in.

  Her taste in sexual fantasy wasn’t usually anonymous, so a man hired to serve her had never been something she had played out in her mind. Her tastes tended to be personal, and they often involved bringing specific men to their knees, sometimes even leaving them unsatisfied. These fantasies were especially vivid after the meetings with smug, hotshot venture capitalists who thought they knew tech better than she did, when she had to smile and bite her tongue if she wanted what they were offering. Occasionally, she satisfied her desire for the power that eluded her in the meeting in a more private manner with men who didn’t seem to mind. Equilibrium rebalanced.

  Byron didn’t just tolerate her literal lust for power—he got off on it. What caught her off guard was how easily her mind had channeled that desire toward Byron, who owned a chain of hotels and had stolen her wave. And she actually liked him, whereas in the case of the smug VC dudes, she’d go out of her way to never see them again in real life. Being with him felt a little more personal...but there was no need to clarify that point to Byron.

  Instead of imagining him as the server, she was thinking of him as... Byron himself. The owner of the Kalani was waiting on her as she made him impatient, turning him on. If he wasn’t leaving tomorrow, she might have questioned the wisdom of weavin
g a sexual fantasy around him. Not only did he hold the kind of power she had become so wary of, but the more time she spent with him, the more time she wanted.

  Yet how often did she do something just for pleasure? Besides, they weren’t having late-night heart-to-hearts. This was about sexy fun, and they could play this out with him calling her ma’am, and he wouldn’t know the difference. And she’d enjoy every moment of it.

  Jessie swam a leisurely lap, focusing on the ocean shimmering in the distance, pretending to ignore Byron. When she turned, he was standing by the edge of the pool, next to the spot she’d dived from. Her towel was folded neatly on the ground, exactly where she had told him to leave it, and he stood in that ready stance he had. Lord, this man was jacked. The way he held his hands behind his back showed off his shoulders, strong and muscular. She stared unabashedly as she swam back to her towel. When she got to the side, she stood up on the shallow seat ledge that ran along the length of the pool and turned to sit on the towel he had left for her. The evening air was warm and humid, and she didn’t bother to dry, just let the water drip down her naked skin. He was standing so close, but she said nothing, letting the moment draw out.

  Byron’s voice rumbled from above her. “Can I do anything for you, ma’am?”

  Again, the permission to ask for whatever she wanted. What did she want?

  “You can take off your clothes and get in the pool.”

  After the words left her mouth, she had a moment of uncertainty. Was this how to play the game? Was she taking it too far, ordering him around? She could feel the responsibility behind this delicate power he was giving her. How easy it could be to hurt him if she abused it. She looked up quickly and caught him staring down at her, his eyes fiery and alive, bright with desire. She must have worn her misgiving on her face, because his expression softened.

  “Anything you want, Jessie,” he whispered. “Just ask. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”