Spring Fling

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Spring Fling Page 6

by Claudia Burgoa


  He paused and then continued wiping. “He’s not here.”

  What?

  “We have a meeting today,” I explained, as if that would make him appear.

  “Mr. Domonoski was called out to corporate day before yesterday. Last I heard, he might be back tomorrow or the next day.” He leaned on the bar. “But nobody tells me much of anything around here.”

  Shit, shit, and double shit. Why the hell hadn’t the lady at the front desk mentioned he wasn’t on the premises when she pointed me in the direction of the dining room?

  I looked back at the bartender. “If it makes you feel better, nobody tells me anything either.”

  As I wandered back to the lobby, I checked my credit card balance. The resort had given me a deep discount for the night, but I wasn’t sure they’d extend it. If what they’d told Smithe yesterday was true, this place was booked up. Well, they’d have to unbook it. I could not leave here without meeting with the hotel manager.

  When Mikael and I had spoken on the phone, he’d mentioned their dining manger had recently moved on, which I took to mean was fired, so he had taken on both responsibilities until they could find someone permanent. I’d been lucky to convince him to meet with me in the first place.

  This was worse than being stood up on a first date. I needed this resort as a client.

  * * *

  “How’d it go?”

  Smithe bolted from her position on the sofa clad in only the shirt of mine she’d destroyed yesterday. The strip of skin from her neck to her stomach temporarily distracted me. Getting lost in her wouldn’t solve my problems, but it would be a hell of a start toward forgetting them.

  “I’ve been gone all of twenty minutes.” I winced at how sarcastic I sounded. It wasn’t her fault my meeting hadn’t materialized.

  She glanced at the clock and chewed on her lip. “Guess I lost track of time.” Her hand slipped into mine, and she guided me toward the couch. “Tell me all about it.”

  “The manager isn’t here, and it’s not certain when he’s coming back.” I rested our joined hands on her thigh. “Good news is, we’ve got this room for another two nights. The Sexcapades Book Club meeting continues.” That was the only thing worth looking forward to about the situation, but I knew I sounded as if I were about to walk the plank.

  Sympathy etched Smithe’s face, and she squeezed my fingers. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “Do you think getting barfed on was a bad omen?” I tried to force some lightness into my tone.

  “You could have ended up spending yesterday and last night alone. Instead you ended up with me, so that makes you pretty damn lucky.”

  I covered her with my body and tickled her ribs. She squirmed underneath me and begged for mercy. I found myself smiling into her neck.

  “Guess this means you need to make a trip to the gift shop,” I said, getting in one last tickle into her side.

  “But you’d really like the swimsuit I’m down to,” she teased. Her underwear from yesterday hung like a misshapen blob in the bathroom.

  “I’m not sure my poor heart can take the sight of you naked and wet all day.” My dick jumped, already semi-hard from lying on top of her.

  “Your loss.” She shrugged, and I kissed her.

  I liked to think that yesterday I’d taken her shitty day and made it better. Today she’d already done that for me. Two more days with her might physically kill me, but there were a lot worse ways to go than buried inside a beautiful woman.

  * * *

  “Room service again?”

  I pulled on the string of her bikini bottom—a thong—as we tramped back into the bungalow. She’d bought it to fuck with me, but the joke was on her. The creamy skin of her ass was pink from a little too much sun.

  She squeaked as it hit the floor. I lifted her up by the waist and kissed her cheek.

  “Ouch!” She turned and shoved at my chest. “Your wet bathing suit feels like a torch on my ass.” She twisted around to try to get a look. “How bad is it?”

  “What?” I feigned innocence, and her already red face deepened in color.

  “Yes to room service. Let’s get the same thing we had last night, but more Painkillers.” She stripped off her bathing suit top and threw it at me.

  I caught the wet fabric before it hit my stomach. “Scallops? The things you don’t like?”

  She strode to the bathroom. “Yes. And the steak again.”

  Thank Christ this place was all-inclusive.

  “Why do you keep hiding the shampoo in your shave kit?” Smithe poked her head through the open door.

  “Didn’t they put some new bottles in when they made up the room?” I asked, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder.

  Her brow creased. “I didn’t check.”

  I held up my finger and quickly placed the order for our dinner. “How about we eat and then have a bath?” I suggested when I ended the call.

  She disappeared again and emerged a second later with something in her hand. “They gave us another bath bomb.”

  “How lucky can we be?” She flipped me off, and I picked up the two robes laid out on the bed, holding one open for her. “What time did you say your friend will be here?”

  Once she was in the terry cloth, I tightened the belt around her waist.

  Patch checked her phone on the coffee table. “She never called me back.” She worried her lip between her teeth.

  “Think everything is okay?”

  “That’s not like her.” She fiddled with the screen and held the device up to her ear. “Where are you?”

  Smithe listened patiently, then cast a glance at me before turning her back and speaking in a hushed tone. In no time, she’d ended the call.

  “Well?” I asked as she returned her phone to the coffee table.

  “Tomorrow. Around lunchtime.”

  “What happened to today?”

  She averted her eyes. “Couldn’t get a flight.”

  I narrowed my gaze as her neck and cheeks turned red. “Are you sure she’ll have one tomorrow?”

  “Pretty sure,” she said, not sounding confident at all.

  Oddly, I felt relieved I’d have her all to myself for at least another half a day. Once her best friend came, Smithe’s attention would rightly be on her. In a couple of days, Antigua would be nothing but a memory. One filled with dark hair, honey eyes, and a kind soul I wouldn’t be able to shake for a long time.

  Smithe

  * * *

  “It burns.”

  I hissed as the warm water hit my ass when I sank down into the tub where Hale was waiting for me.

  “Would you rather take a cold shower?” he suggested.

  I popped back up to my full height and glared down at him. “Just give me a second to get used to it.”

  Gently, he brushed the water away from my burned cheeks. “It’s worse than I thought,” he said, sounding concerned. “Maybe we should skip this.”

  I didn’t want to.

  Turning my back to him, I squeezed my eyes shut and slid down into the water. Fire. My ass was on fire. But I braved it until the burn had subsided to a simmer.

  Strong arms, now bronzed from a day in the sun, wrapped around me. I leaned against his chest, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. This made the pin-pricks of pain completely worth it. “Stir It Up” by Bob Marley and the Wailers only helped to soothe away the tension.

  “Are you from Atlanta?” he asked. “You said your journey started there.”

  I caressed his shin with my foot and tilted my head so it rested against his. “Not originally. I’ve been there about three years. I moved because I got the job at the library.”

  “Where were you before?”

  “Belle Glade, Florida.”

  He drew back, and I opened my eyes. “You left Florida for Atlanta?”

  “I couldn’t turn down the pay, but my master plan was always to make my way back to Florida.”

  “Was?” He massaged my
arms down to my fingertips, and my eyelids shuttered again.

  “I didn’t think I’d make friends or like it as much as I do.” Roxy had been an unexpected gift. From my first day at the library, she’d taken in the new kid, wouldn’t let me say no to dinner, and wormed her way into my heart.

  Shit. I’d let her down by failing to convince her not to come to the island. Tomorrow when she arrived, I’d just have to keep her busy and away from Doyle.

  “What about you? Are you in Atlanta?” I asked to keep from worrying about Roxy, but the hope that expanded in my chest at the possibility he lived near me was acute. The idea that this might not have to be over once we left the island took root and wouldn’t let go.

  “Not anymore. Charleston,” he said.

  “Oh.” Disappointment I didn’t have the right to feel snaked its way around my heart. There’d never been any expectations beyond a few days, but as he held me, I realized this was what I’d been missing.

  “My family is in Marietta,” he said like a peace offering. “I don’t get down there as much as I’d like.”

  “Why Charleston?”

  “It’s where the company I used to work for was based.” There was something unspoken, but maybe he was like me. He’d moved somewhere and put down roots.

  “How many people work for you?”

  He shifted, and water splashed over the side of the tub. The grip he had on me loosened. “Uh, just me.”

  I angled to get a better look at him. “That’s got to be exhausting. I’m impressed you get it all done. You must be traveling all the time.”

  He scrubbed his forehead. “It’s a balance.” The lines around his eyes faded when he winked at me. “So what are you going to do here for two weeks? You’re already almost out of books.”

  I gave him my dirtiest look. “I’ve only read, like, half of one. Somebody’s been keeping me busy.”

  The events of the day replayed in my head.

  We’d played in the ocean.

  We’d fucked.

  We’d soaked up the sun.

  We’d fucked.

  We’d walked on the beach.

  We’d fucked.

  I squirmed at the heat in his eyes and held onto his thighs for support.

  “You don’t wear out, do you?” he asked, kissing my temple.

  “It’s your fault.” I settled back against him and closed my eyes.

  His pepperminty breath ghosted my ear as he spoke low against it. “I’m more than happy to take all the blame.”

  * * *

  We were quiet for a long time, lost in our own thoughts. Yesterday had seemed like the express elevator to hell, but it had landed me straight here. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this at ease, not just with another person, but in general.

  I already missed Hale, and he wasn’t even gone yet, which was total insanity. I didn’t know him, not really, but I liked this. Liked that I could be myself, and instead of running away, he’d embraced me.

  How could I thank him for that without sounding like a clingy, needy girl who couldn’t handle a little fun?

  The hypnotic circles he drew on my stomach nearly lulled me to sleep. I was warm from the bath, the sun, and the rum from the Painkillers, but mostly from being so close to him.

  “I’ve never done this before,” I murmured against his jaw.

  “Taken a bath?” He nuzzled my cheek. “I saw it with my own eyes yesterday.”

  I elbowed him in the ribs. “No.”

  “I haven’t either.”

  I sat straight up, but he pulled me back against him. “You haven’t?”

  “I haven’t ever had this much fun.”

  Whoa. I twisted around until I was on my knees facing him. He braced his hands on my hips, nothing but pure truth in his eyes.

  “Me neither,” I whispered before I dove for his mouth.

  That was the best thing anyone had ever said to me.

  I gripped his hair and pressed my body against him. Our tongues collided and dueled. I couldn’t get close enough.

  His hands slid around to my back as his erection grew between us. He sucked on my nipple, and my head fell back in pleasure.

  He pinched to get my attention. “That’s better,” he said when our eyes met.

  I placed my hands on his shoulders and ground against his hard length. He groaned as I kissed down his jaw and he held me against him.

  Want bounced between us. I’d had him at will for nearly twenty-four hours, yet I needed like I never had before. I touched anywhere my hands and mouth could reach. Fire torched all coherent thought, and instinct overtook me.

  Without guidance, I rubbed my clit up and down his cock. The friction had both of us crazed. His fingers dug into my hips like he was holding onto the last of his sanity.

  I rocked against him. He lifted us out of the water and sat on the thick edge of the tub. Once he’d rolled on a condom, he nudged my entrance, pushing just the tip inside. The move spurred me into action. I sank down and lost my breath at the fullness. Rapture twisted his face when he bottomed out inside me.

  I rode him until we both panted. Sparks of pleasure shot across my hips. I kissed him because I couldn’t not, even though my movements were sporadic.

  His hand dipped between my legs. He rubbed circles against my clit until I clawed at his shoulders and screamed my release into his mouth. As he came, he held me in place and roared my name.

  Hale brought my forehead to his and seemed to breathe me in.

  He didn’t speak as he drained the tub. Or when he dried us off. Or when he tucked me into his side once we were in bed.

  What was there to say when we’d said it all with our bodies?

  Hale

  * * *

  Déjà vu.

  Only this time, I asked the woman behind the front desk if Mikael was actually there before proceeding to the dining area.

  While I waited for her to check, I shoved a soft peppermint into my mouth and tried to focus on what I needed to do to land this resort as a client. Instead, all I could see was Patch’s face right before she’d attacked me with kisses when I’d told her this was the most fun I’d ever had. It was the truth, although maybe inappropriate to admit for something with such a short shelf life.

  In that moment, I’d never felt more wanted. As much as I needed to forget it, at least until after my potential meeting, I couldn’t let it go. I tried to recapture the exact feeling, but the only way to have it again was with her.

  The desk clerk returned and pulled me out of my daydream. “Mr. Domonoski will see you in just a moment. Please have a seat.” She gestured toward a sofa and two chairs.

  As I rolled my case of samples over to the seating area, my stomach knotted and I chewed more furiously on the candy. There was so much riding on this deal, I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I walked away with nothing. I’d cut everywhere I could, including the two employees I’d had at one time. I’d sacrificed my own pay to keep them on as long as possible, but eventually I’d had no choice but to let them go.

  When I’d gone out on my own, I’d assumed the risk, fully realizing that just because someone had been a client with my old company didn’t mean they’d follow me. I’d thought some would, though. But they hadn’t. Not a single one.

  I’d scraped and fought and clawed for what business I’d gotten. It hadn’t been enough.

  This was my last stand. I’d maxed out my credit card to extend my stay for this meeting. I had a hundred and fifty dollars in my bank account. I was two months behind on rent for the house I lived and worked out of. Thank Christ I’d saved enough to pay cash for a car before I’d bought a new one. It was the only thing left of real value I had to my name, and I probably would have already sold it if it had been worth much.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  I stood and swallowed the lump of peppermint before extending a hand to the suit-clad gentleman beside me. “Hale. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Mikael. Likewise.”

/>   We shook hands, and though I expected to move to his office or somewhere else we could talk, he remained in place.

  “I appreciate you’ve come all this way, but this isn’t a good time for me to meet. I’ve only just returned to the island and have much to catch up on.”

  I know you just got back, jackass. We were supposed to meet yesterday.

  “I won’t take much of your time. The Four Seasons wants my new line to be exclusive to them, but since you and I had this meeting scheduled, you deserve an opportunity to see it too.” Maybe I had been the one to suggest to my contact at the Four Seasons that we make it exclusive to them, but the details didn’t really matter.

  He pressed his lips together in a thin line and glanced back toward the reception desk. “Five minutes. That’s all I have.”

  I followed him to the restaurant, where he took a seat.

  I hoisted my case onto a table next to him and opened it. As I reached inside, the latch caught on my sleeve and the case tipped forward before I could stop it from falling. Dinner plates, salad plates, saucers, and stemware tumbled out and landed with an almighty crash on the tile floor. Shards of porcelain and glass flew all over the place, even onto the lap of the man I was trying so hard to impress.

  Fuck.

  Mikael raised a brow as he plucked a teacup handle from his leg and tossed it on the table.

  I searched through the rubble looking for one goddamn sample that was intact. None of them had survived.

  In a last ditch effort to salvage the meeting, I pulled out some flatware and laid it on the linen tablecloth along with a prototype of a champagne flute I’d designed that miraculously hadn’t fallen out of the case. My shoulders slumped as I looked at him with all the desperation I felt, hoping to at least generate some sympathy.

  “I believe I’ve seen enough. For your trouble, enjoy one more night compliments of the resort.” He looked at the mess on the floor with disdain. “There’s a trash receptacle by the bar.” As he stood, he picked up the champagne flute. “This is nice.”

  I scowled at the glass between his fingers. “Keep it.” No need to hold onto a reminder of failure.

 

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