All I Do: Paradise Beach #3

by Lush, Tamara

  “Like that, beautiful. Fuck, I love watching you come. I could watch you do that every day.”

  Eep. He’s devastatingly amazing in bed.

  I’m still pulsing and throbbing when I hear the sound of foil tearing. When I open my eyes, I see Remy rolling on the condom while biting his lip. His gaze goes to me, and he looks positively feral.

  He moves on top of me and there’s no hesitation. He’s inside now, and I gasp. So big and filling. So incredible. I bend my knees and he rests his big hands on my shins, pushing inside so he’s super deep.

  “I’ve thought about nothing but this since that first day. Thought of nothing but needing this,” he rasps while sliding in and out of me. “You. Being inside you. It’s better than I dreamed. Does it feel good for you, too? I need to know. I want you to feel incredible.”

  He’s asking me how I feel during the actual act? That might be the most surprising part of the day. I’d gotten so used to Brent, who never cared what I thought or how I felt when we were in bed — or anywhere else, for that matter.

  “You feel so good, Remy. So good.”

  He grinds into me, a focused, tight expression in his eyes. “Never knew it could feel this amazing,” he mutters.

  Yes. This. This is what I wanted. Intense, hot sex. I slide my hands up his muscular biceps. He groans, and lets go of my legs so he can take my face in one hand. I move my hips in time with his, and our bodies slap against one another. Our skin feels so damp already, possibly just from our swim, but it seems we’re already getting slick with each other’s sweat.

  He dips his head to kiss me and I greedily devour his mouth. He picks up the pace, and prickles of pure lust shoot through me.

  “Want you closer,” I murmur, drawing him in, wrapping my legs higher around his waist. My knees are practically in my armpits, and I’m grateful I’m so flexible because it means he can go really deep.

  I dig my nails into his back as he grinds into me, slow and dirty. He’s groaning and I’m moaning and it’s simply the most primitive moment of my life. What we’re doing right now — having raw, unfiltered sex — seems so natural. Like this is what we’d been born to do together.

  “You want it harder?” he asks in a shaky voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Yes.” I’m a little surprised by my answer, but I feel safe with him.

  In a flash, he takes my arms and pins them over my head on the pillow, his big hands wrapped around my wrists.

  “That feels so right,” I breathe.

  By now he’s really going at it, hard.

  But not enough to make me scared. Not enough to make warning bells go off in my head. Because as forcefully as he’s grinding and thrusting, as tightly as he’s gripping my wrists, he’s not being rough. Or disrespectful. There’s something about Remy that I trust.

  “I’ll stop if it’s too much.”

  “Don’t stop, Remy. There. Right there. Like that. I might come again if you keep doing that.” He’s hitting just the right spot for my clit, and that delicious ache is building once more. Every move he makes is perfect. He’s possessing my body, and I would normally be worried. But I’m not. I’m loving every urgent, lust-soaked second.

  “I’m so close, beautiful. So close.”

  “Remy…” I hiss.

  When I say his name, he lets out a long groan. I feel him pulsing inside of me, and I hold him tight, the scent of the sea and his faint, caramel cologne washing over me. He smells like the yummiest salted caramel in the world, and I’ll never be able to consume that flavor again without thinking about this blissful moment. For a few seconds, we’re in our own bubble, fused together. Time stops.

  “You didn’t come again,” he whispers in my ear.

  I shake my head.

  Propping himself up on his hands, he gazes at me with half-lidded eyes. While sucking in a breath and holding onto the condom at the base of his cock, he pulls out.

  I’m about to roll away when he stops me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Where are you going?” He sits up and strips off the condom, plucking a tissue out of a holder and wadding it around the condom before placing it on the nightstand.

  I lift a shoulder. “Figured you’d want some space.”

  He shakes his head slowly, that foxy smile spreading on his face. “You think I’m done with you?”

  My mouth opens. What does he want? Cuddling? Talking? More sex? I’m genuinely baffled because Brent always raced out of bed like he was on fire.

  Remy bends to brush his lips over my stomach. It’s an achingly tender gesture, especially in contrast to how frenzied we just were. Then he lands another kiss, right on my belly button. Then below. I shiver. His fingers softly graze between my legs, brushing my still-throbbing clit.

  “I think that part of our pact should be that for every orgasm I have, you get two.” He looks up with a smirk, one eyebrow higher than the other. “Deal?”

  He goes back to kissing down my body. As he runs the tip of his tongue down the seam of my sex, I stutter in a breath.

  “Deal,” I manage to squeak out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  REMY

  I’m scrubbing down the cockpit of my fishing boat — not the sailboat, but the powerboat I use for my charter business — and I’m sweating buckets. It’s three in the afternoon on a Florida July day, and I think hell is less steamy than Paradise Beach right now.

  It’s been a great day so far, but I’m beat-ass tired. I’d taken a rich, British tourist out on the water early this morning to fish for red snapper. The water had been calm, the fishing hot. A perfect day. It had seemed like everything in the water was biting, and the client was stoked. Tipped me real big, too.

  As I’m just about to clean a portable cooler with a hose, I hear the slap of flip-flops on the marina dock.

  “Hey you,” comes the seductive voice.

  I grin before turning around. Leilani.

  “What are you doing here, girl?” I dump the ice in the cooler overboard. The cubes practically melt on contact with the warm Gulf water, which is kind of a metaphor for what happens to my insides every time I see her.

  “I was running some errands and remembered you said in your text this morning that you’d be back around now. Came by to say hey.”

  Oh, yeah, I did text her before I went out at six a.m. It had been one of those rare nights when we didn’t stay together, because I had a late night on the mainland with Dad. I don’t text her all the time, not really. It’s not like I have to check in with her. I just like to see what she’s up to — and this morning when I’d texted, she had been asleep and had responded with an adorably grumpy message, something about needing her beauty sleep.

  “Well, hey, beautiful. C’mere. Sorry for waking you this morning.”

  She steps into the boat, the hem of her little, pink sundress kicking up and showing me a swath of her tanned thigh. I want to groan out loud because she’s a sight for my sore, sea-struck eyes.

  She stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, and her perfume washes over me. Her fingers graze my bare chest. Suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore.

  “How’d it go on the water today?” I love that about her, how she always asks how my fishing trips went.

  “Caught a lot of red snapper. They were biting like crazy. Oh, and we saw a loggerhead, too.”

  Her eyes light up. “Oh my God, I love those! Did you get photos?”

  “I did, because I knew you’d want to see them. How were the contractors?” Today was the day they were supposed to finish the mermaid tank. She’s been worried they would end up behind schedule.

  “They didn’t quite finish. Hit some sort of snag with the frame. They need to rebuild part of it. That’s what I also came by to tell you.”

  “Aww, hell. Not uncommon though. I’ll be done in a few. Wanna grab us some beers from the fridge down below?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I spray the cooler as I watch her walk away, her hip
s swaying. It’s been two weeks since we made our friends-with-benefits pact, and I swear to Christ, life’s never been better. We have the kind of relationship I’ve dreamed about — spontaneous, casual, fun.

  And sexy as all fuck.

  Anytime I want Leilani, I can have her. I’ve showed up at her bar and her condo at all hours, and she’s ready. Hot for me. And it works both ways; there have been times when she’s come to my boat, needy and desperate.

  Okay, we’re both desperate for each other. Fact.

  Like today. I don’t think she’s here to chit-chat about the Chamber of Commerce contest. Not in that tiny sundress. Based on my expert assessment, she isn’t wearing a bra, which means she probably isn’t wearing panties, either.

  What the hell am I still doing up here?

  Leaving the cooler to dry in the sun, I make my way below deck. Even though this is a more expensive craft than my sailboat, it’s all because of the engines. Six hundred fifty horses on this baby. But below deck isn’t quite as comfy as the boat I live on — hell, it’s meant for fishing trips.

  I’m greeted by the sight of Leilani bent over, staring into the small fridge, her dress hiked up almost to her ass. Her legs look miles long, and her long hair’s tumbling to one side. She wiggles her butt.

  My dick instantly hardens.

  “Remy, I don’t see any beer.” Is she bending over even more? Yeah, she is. And nope, she’s not wearing panties. A hint of her pussy stops me in my tracks.

  I must have some helluva guardian angel, because my day just keeps getting better. A five-hundred-dollar tip and a beautiful woman flashing me on my own boat? Fuck yeah.

  “Keep looking, babe. The bottles are way in back.” I lean against the counter. My mouth waters at the thought of running my tongue over her bare skin.

  She wiggles again. This girl. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Leilani, it’s that she loves to flirt and tease. But only with me, and only in private. I’ve never seen her flirt with another guy, and she’s always professional and serious when we’re in public together.

  In private, though. Holy crap. She’s a minx. A temptress. Every man’s dream.

  And she’s mine. Well, at least right now, in a non-commitment kinda way.

  “Ohh, I’ve found them.” She reaches in and grabs two beers, then stands.

  I don’t even wait for her to turn around, I’m so hot for her. I come up behind and sweep her hair off her neck, peppering kisses over her nape.

  She rubs that sweet little ass of hers against my crotch, knowing I’m hard as a rock. Then she turns her head. “I thought you wanted something to drink.”

  I grind my hips into her ass while nibbling on her shoulder. “Changed my mind when I saw you bent over. My thirst is for something else. Coming over here without panties in that little dress. So naughty.”

  My hand slips around her waist, to her stomach, and then she clutches it and drags it down the scant few inches of fabric to the hem of her dress. I groan when I sink my fingers between her lips.

  “I took them off in the parking lot,” she murmurs.

  “Oh yeah? You should be punished for not letting me take them off for you.” I’m rubbing her clit nice and slow, knowing it’ll drive her insane.

  “They were already wet when I got here. That’s why I took them off.”

  Oh, she’s just playing now. Tormenting. I slip two fingers all the way inside her and she mewls.

  “You were thinking about coming here and fucking me, weren’t you? That’s why you were already wet.”

  “Yes.”

  The hand that’s not fingering her goes to her tits, and I slide my fingers under her dress. Her nipples are already peaked. I pinch one.

  “You came here just to fuck, didn’t you?”

  “I admit it. Yes.”

  “You knew you could come here and I’d take care of you,” I growl in her ear.

  She’s making those little, breathy gasps, the ones that mean she’s close to coming. I lazily circle her clit. Perspiration is blooming on the back of her neck and I take a deep inhale. I love the way she smells when she’s turned on. It’s a mix of flowers and sex musk.

  “I knew if I came here, you’d make me feel good.”

  “That’s right. Who takes care of you?”

  “You do, Remy.”

  Grinning, I rub faster, pressing my lips behind her earlobe. “Who gives you the best orgasms?”

  “You do.”

  “You’re already close, aren’t you, beautiful?”

  “I am,” she whines. Her head’s dipped back and resting against my shoulder.

  “Let go for me. I want to feel you come on my fingers. Please, baby? Please? Come for me, Leilani. Be a good girl.”

  Her pouty mouth parts and she scrunches her eyes shut. As she screams silently, gasping for air, I can feel her muscles pulsing against my fingers. So fucking magical, making her come. I wring every last drop of energy out of her orgasm and then I’m blind with my own need.

  I half carry, half drag her to the beige ottoman that doubles as a storage console.

  “Hands and knees,” I murmur, but she’s already there by the time I finish saying the words. She leans forward on her forearms, ass in the air. I push her skirt up over her hips. Ohh, fuck. The sight of her radiant, olive skin is glorious. Angels are chanting nearby.

  She whimpers and says my name. “I’m still coming a little.”

  My eyes are glued to her ass while I grab the condom out of my wallet and strip my shorts off.

  She makes another impatient, little noise and glances over her shoulder, tossing her long mane of hair in the process. Her look says, come on dude, I want you inside me, now. Her grin makes my heart skip. It’s as if I can feel the attraction zinging back and forth between us.

  “What do you need, babe? Tell me. We got all day and all night.” Of course, I know exactly what she needs: me, inside of her. She’s drenched. Possibly the most aroused woman I’ve ever been with. Seriously, I don’t think a woman’s ever been this into me, and it makes me feel like Die Hard-Bruce Willis and Matrix-Keanu Reeves combined. Her need for me is life-sustaining, I swear to Christ. It’s probably making me a little cockier than usual, but I’m going with it.

  I finger fuck her for a few seconds, enjoying the sounds her body makes. As eager as I am to be inside, I can’t get enough of touching her. Tasting her. Any of it. All of it.

  “No, your cock. I want it, Remy.” Her voice has a little edge. “Come on.”

  “Impatient, impatient. I love when you get all demanding.” I take my hand away from her and lick my fingers. She looks back and watches me lapping up her juices, and she starts breathing heavy again.

  “Remy, come on.” Her ass undulates from side-to-side.

  I pause and caress her sweet ass. “I wanna spank you.”

  Because of her issues with that abusive asshole she dated — whom she refuses to tell me much about — I always ask before I do any remotely rough stuff. It’s hotter that way, too, because I love it when she tells me what she wants.

  “Yes, spank me.”

  I give her ass a hard smack that echoes around the small interior of the boat.

  “That’s for teasing me, woman.”

  She giggles and wiggles and I finally get the damned condom out of the package and onto my dick. No small feat since my heart’s going at least one-fifty BPM and my dick’s so hard it aches. I grab her ass cheeks by the fistful and sink into her slick pussy, no prior warning. My eyes immediately roll back into my head when I hear her gasp.

  Sweet chocolate Christ, I’m home.

  When we first started fucking two weeks ago, I wondered if I’d get bored, or if our attraction would fade. After all, I’ve never been friends with a woman then slept with her over such a sustained amount of time. I didn’t know what to expect. Somehow, I’d thought that by now we’d be watching reruns of Friends and popping popcorn on Sunday nights, and I’d be it
ching to flee.

  I hadn’t anticipated that she’d come to my boat and beg to be ravished at three in the afternoon on a Thursday.

  So, let it be known: this relationship is a milestone for the Playboy of Paradise Beach. All because of my unicorn of a friend who wants all of my benefits.

  “Goddammit, do it harder, Remy,” she whispers fiercely. Holy crap. She’s never been so demanding before. My balls tingle and tighten. Today might set a new record for how fast I blow my load. I bury myself in her and give ass another gentle swat while I groan and grind.

  “Going to come again. Please,” she begs. “Again. Do that again.”

  Bored? With Leilani?

  As if.

  Chapter Fifteen

  LEILANI

  It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m in a long checkout line at Jack’s Grocery. There's an annual anime convention at the Paradise Beach Resort this weekend, and I’m standing behind a yellow Pikachu, a sexy woman dressed in a Sailor Moon outfit, and two dads in beach attire with their adorable little girl, who appears to be dressed as some sort of orange cat.

  Probably, I should’ve gone to the con with my on-land mermaid costume — a blue wig, a sparkly catsuit, and lots of sparkly makeup — but I’d had so much to do in the past few days with the bar. Opening night is coming up fast, and I have an anxious pit of dread in my stomach that I won’t be ready. I’ve even had nightmares that I’ve somehow missed my own bar’s opening evening.

  So, my plan tonight is to chill in my condo and try to relax. And maybe see Remy later on; he’d gone out with his dad and brothers on the boat today, and he has the usual Sunday dinner with his parents. I’ve never told him this, but the fact that he hangs out with his family — that he actively likes them, and isn’t constantly second guessing their life choices, like I do with my mom — is a terribly endearing quality.

  I’m waiting to pay for a frozen pizza and a pint of my favorite ice cream — Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, of course — when I hear a woman calling my name.

  I swivel my head toward the sound. It’s Natalia. “Hey there.”