“Move faster,” he directed.
Emma’s eyes shot open as she snorted and executed a smart salute. “My ride. My way.” She maintained her easy pace, enjoying the sparks of pleasure igniting her body.
He reached up to cup her breasts and tweaked one nipple. Emma gasped, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as sensation raced through her sensitized body. After this afternoon he knew how much she liked that, how hot it made her. Then he reached up to where their bodies joined and slid a teasing finger around her swollen clitoris. His touch was firm but not enough to push her over into orgasm.
“Please,” Emma pleaded. “Do that again. A fraction harder. Now.”
Jack grunted as she rose then lowered herself slowly on his cock. Excruciatingly slow, so he massaged her right where she needed it. “You want to give instruction but not to take it?”
“Ohhhh,” Emma moaned. She swayed above him, feeling powerful yet needy, feeling as though she could do anything. The first tremors of orgasm shimmered through her, radiating outward until fiery flames licked through her lower body. Her eyes drifted closed so she could savor the experience. The rise and the slow return. The sense of fullness. The slide of their bodies, the intimacy of it. The shimmer deepened. Emma sucked in a pained breath as she balanced on the precipice, unsure of whether to move again and push over or to remain poised in anticipation. Then she felt Jack’s fingers, nimble and clever, rubbing her in just the right place, just the right way. A cry escaped. Her body jerked, and she shattered. Her pussy clenched tight around Jack’s cock. Emma’s head tipped back as she rode out the exquisite sensations then her whole body relaxed.
“My turn, princess,” Jack whispered, and he gripped her hips and lifted her off him. Before she could blink, he’d placed her face down on the bed and raised her ass in the air. His big hands cupped her buttocks, making Emma shiver with renewed awareness. He could have as many turns as he wanted. She wasn’t finished with him yet.
Jack palmed her ass then ran a finger down the crevice between her butt cheeks. A shiver racked her body and he hesitated. He’d hate to frighten her. When she didn’t voice any objections, he took it a little further. Gripping his cock in one hand, he positioned himself at the mouth of her pussy. He pushed inside until her heat enveloped him. She was wet—her juices coated his cock and made his surge and retreat easy and incredibly arousing. But he needed a little more for what he intended. Jack reached for the lubrication again. Half of him expected questions, but they didn’t come. Instead, she made a sexy little moan that tightened his balls and made his blood run hotter. Who’d have guessed that the little sparrow was such a sexual creature?
Jack pumped a generous amount of lube on his palm and smeared it from where they were joined all the way up to the puckered rosette of her anus.
The serpent inside him roared. Sex. Now. Jack held the beast back by setting up a lazy surge and retreat. In and out of her pussy. His cock swelled as the pleasure rolled through his body.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered, her words throaty. Sexy.
Jack rubbed his finger back and forth over her rosette, delicately probing while continuing the steady strokes of his cock into her pussy. “Don’t you like it? Tell me if you don’t like anything I do to you.”
“It feels different,” Emma said finally. “But good. I like it.”
Jack made a mental note to check out the sex toys she’d won. If she liked this and wanted to try more, he was ready.
The single light that shone over the bed highlighted her creamy skin. Being able to see his cock slide in and out of her cunt was an incredible turn-on. His darker skin against her pale creamy curves. Jack hastened the pace, removing his finger from her anus so he could grip her hips and hold her steady for each stroke. He felt her quiver deep inside, clasping and clenching at his cock. He jerked his hips, ramming his cock home, flesh slapping against flesh until he erupted, spurting his seed deep and hard with a loud groan.
Gradually, Jack eased away from Emma, separating their bodies. A sharp intake of breath made him still. The noise came from behind the mirror. Fuck, he’d forgotten about their watchers. He’d forgotten everything except Emma and how it felt to pound into her body. Admitting that fact, even to himself, scared the shit out of him.
* * * * *
“We need to check out all the different activities more closely,” Jack said the next morning, trying to avoid looking at Emma’s cleavage and force away memories of what they’d done to each other throughout the night. The serpent wasn’t cooperating. Jack’s cock leapt with enough vigor to fuck a netball team—the whole seven plus reserves. Bloody blue moon was really pushing his libido.
Emma dropped her hairbrush into her pink canvas bag and rose from the stool that sat in front of the dressing table. “Good. Where do we go first?”
Jack ripped his gaze away from Emma and glared at the mirror above the bar. That was another thing. He couldn’t be sure if a sound system went along with the two-way mirror. They’d have to watch what they said in case it was recorded.
He risked another glance at Emma. Her smile was so bright it almost blinded him. Damn. Now she had expectations. He’d have to make it clear his lone status wasn’t going to change. He was going to hurt her, and despite the necessity, he regretted it. Emma was a likeable girl. Easy to be with. Tempting. But after Rachel, he didn’t want to put himself through an emotional wringer again. Admitting to the whole taniwha monster thing, and all the garbage that came along with the truth. About him. About George Taniwha & Co., and the team of taniwhas who worked as private investigators. Nah, he’d skip the emotional crap. Better she was hurt a little now than come face-to-face with monsters later.
“I think we should split up.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I thought we’d spend time together like all the other couples.”
“We only have the week.” Jack scowled at the time constraint reminder. It was tighter than Emma realized. With the blue moon coming up on Saturday, he’d need to have plentiful sex or shift to avoid excruciating pain. He’d hoped to have this case wrapped up quickly and be back home in time for the fall of the blue moon. It was bloody inconvenient, but once he shifted, he was stuck in his taniwha form for twenty-four hours. Suffering through a full moon was bad enough but a blue moon… Jack forced away the dire thoughts to concentrate on Emma. “I forgot to tell you. I made an appointment for you at the spa for this afternoon.” He pulled a small card from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Wow! Thank you,” Emma said.
“It’s not all luxury. You need to ask questions and check out the spa area without being obvious. Think you can do that?”
Emma gave a decisive nod. “I’ve trained for it. Which areas do you want me to check out this morning? Will we meet up for lunch? It might look a bit strange if we don’t.”
“Let’s go,” Jack said. “We’ll talk on the way.”
The early morning sun peeked over the stand of native trees, warming the clearing and petanque pit not far from the entrance to their apartment block.
Jack took Emma’s arm and set a brisk pace. “We’ll walk along the beach.”
Emma flashed a smile and tucked her hand into his as soon as the path widened enough for them to walk side by side. Jack froze momentarily before resuming his long strides toward the beach. Her floral scent swam through his senses, making it difficult for him to concentrate. Why did she have to touch him all the time? If she stroked her hand across his serpent tattoo one more time…
“We need to watch what we say while we’re in our room.” Jack couldn’t make up his mind whether to snatch his hand from her grasp or not. Her touch burned like a brand, bringing every one of his senses to life. He heard her soft breathing, the waves rushing to shore and a gull wheeling overhead, felt the soft texture of her hand and bare arm. Man, he had to get a grip. Concentrate. “It’s possible our room is bugged.”
“Someone listening in on us? I don’t— Someone’
s watching us right now! No, don’t look.” Emma’s eyes widened then she leaned closer and twined her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”
It was an order, and Jack found himself in a lip-lock with Emma before he could ask questions. Her lips were soft, and smooth and moist and distracting. She slipped her tongue between his lips, and Jack was a goner. Taste and sensation kicked him in the gut, combining with the feel of her curvy breasts plastered against his chest. The taniwha gave a sleepy yawn then woke rapidly with a demanding growl. Jack took over the kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth and withdrawing in a facsimile of the sexual act. Suddenly, he wanted to rip her clothes off and plunge into her hot pussy. He didn’t care about an audience or the public location. He just wanted to fuck her senseless. But what he wanted and what he got were two different things. Jack struggled to hold on to the semblance of sanity that remained. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh through the thin shirt he wore. The small pain jerked his cock tight enough to cause him discomfort. Emma wriggled even closer, rubbing against his chest and groin and making a sound that resembled a purr. Dammit if the serpent didn’t purr in tandem.
Jack tore his mouth away from Emma’s. Panic roared through him as the taniwha clamored inside his head, demanding he take what Emma offered. The ever-present guilt surfaced, bringing uneasiness. He was using her, and he had to stop because he didn’t intend to follow through and give her what she needed. Jack removed his hands from Emma and took a giant step away. She needed a man who could commit wholly to her. Jack Sullivan wasn’t that man.
“I’m not doing that again,” he muttered. “What’s our watcher doing?”
“Nothing. I made it up,” Emma said, lifting her chin up in the air with hauteur. “There isn’t anyone watching. And I can’t believe that our room is bugged either. This is a low-level investigation. George said so.”
“Dammit, Emma! Our room is bugged,” Jack roared. Frustration rode him hard. If she’d been male, he could have smacked her. He should damn well tell her about the two-way mirror. If he could trust her to maintain natural behavior, he would have told her about the voyeurs. He stared at the thin gold chain that hung around her neck, his hands fisting. Taking a deep breath for calm, he said, “This is the plan for this morning. I’m going to check out the gym since this is the most logical place for drugs. I’d like you to check out the pool area and this afternoon the spa. Talk to people. Mahoney has to shift the drugs somehow.”
Thankfully, Emma must have realized she’d pushed him hard enough and merely nodded agreement.
“We’ll meet up for lunch and compare notes. And you can keep your hands to yourself. We’re not having sex again. Last night was a mistake.” Jack turned away from her wounded expression and stomped off without looking back.
* * * * *
Emma didn’t understand Jack. He ran hot then cold like a water tap on a hot day. It was difficult to keep up. One minute, he seemed to enjoy kissing her and then there was the sex. She squeezed her eyes shut and conjured up the memory of their bodies sliding together in the many different ways they’d tried the night before. The way his muscular body felt beneath her hands. And his sexy serpent tatt. A tingle sprang to life between her legs and she stirred restlessly on the sheet-covered couch inside the spa. The idea of never making love with Jack again sent a touch of panic swirling through her mind. She had to get him to change his mind. And if he didn’t, she’d try again. They were good together, and one time didn’t qualify as a win in the bet with her girlfriends.
The slap of soft soles on the tiled floor heralded the return of the spa attendant. Emma opened her eyes and lifted her head. Eek, that green stuff looked a bit nasty. Didn’t smell much better, either. Emma wondered if Jack had intended this spa visit as punishment.
The attendant smeared green paste all over her back, from shoulders to toes and bade her lie still to let the stuff dry for five minutes. Then Emma had to turn over for the woman to smear the paste on her front. When she looked like the original green alien, she was left in solitary splendor to dry and absorb the goodness from the paste. Mood music slipped stealthily into the room from concealed speakers while the green glop did its work.
Emma must have fallen asleep. An hour later, the woman shook her awake and directed her to the shower. Feminine chatter hit her the moment she opened the door into the huge shower block. In the outer area, large mirrors covered the wall. A line of padded stools stood ready for women to attend to makeup and hair. A vase of pink roses and white gypsophila fragranced the air. Emma moved through into the steam-filled shower area. Several women, with varying shades of paste covering their bodies, were waiting for showers.
Time for some questions, Emma thought, remembering Jack’s terse instructions. “Your paste doesn’t smell much better than my seaweed,” she said.
The other woman laughed. “Ah, but I’m a prettier color.”
“That’s debatable,” Emma said studying the bright yellow decorating the other woman.
“Oh look. The communal shower’s emptying. Let’s grab it. We’ll be waiting for ages for these ones.”
Emma shrugged. Suited her. She grabbed the canvas bag the spa had provided for her clothes and hurried over to the communal shower with her new friend close on her heels. Three other women bounded over. Emma blinked. Each of them was a different color, covered head to toe with a similar thick paste to her.
“I don’t know which of us looks worst,” she said, glancing from woman to woman with a critical eye.
“I hope they don’t have security cameras getting shots of my naked ass,” a dark-haired woman said.
“Do you think anyone will recognize it in purple?” Emma said.
They glanced from one to the other then burst into shrieks of laughter.
“Last one to wash off is a rotten egg,” one said.
“You already look like a rotten egg,” Emma quipped.
As one, they made for the shower door with good-natured pushing, breasts and butts jostling, and lots of laughter.
Ten minutes later, they were clean and ready to go back for the next part of their treatments.
“How about we meet up at the bar afterward?” the ex-purple woman suggested.
“Good idea,” Emma said. It would give her a chance to ask questions. “I’d like to see how we all turn out,” she added with a conspiratorial grin.
“Make it the poolside bar,” another said, “and we can watch the sunset.”
Two hours later, Emma walked into the poolside bar. She had no trouble spotting the women she’d come to meet. Raising her hand in greeting, she ambled over to the bar and waited for the barman to finish with his current customer.
Her gaze wandered the bar before settling back on the barman. With his blond surfer-boy looks, he was easy on the eye. His blue resort shirt stretched over muscular shoulders, the tight sleeves highlighting a set of well-developed biceps. Emma frowned.
“Would you like me to suggest a cocktail?” the barman asked in a husky voice. “Can’t have a pretty lady getting frown lines.”
Emma started and gave a self-conscious laugh. “I was miles away. What would you suggest?”
“How about the house special cocktail? Good for what ever ails you. Tastes good too.”
“Sure.” Emma watched his deft movements as he sliced an orange. “What’s it like working here? Are you allowed to use the facilities on your days off?”
“I use the gym a lot,” the barman said as he competently measured and mixed a cocktail for her. “The job suits me. Everyone’s happy. Lots of people wanting fun.” Woman throwing themselves at him, Emma translated as she intercepted the avid gaze of an attractive brunette at the other end of the bar.
“Maybe you can give me some quick advice—if you do weights, that is.”
“I enter Ironman contests,” he said. “I’ve lifted my share of weights.”
“What’s your name? Have you placed in any of the local competitions?”
Emma oohed and ahhed and fluttered her lashes. She leaned over the bar to stroke her hand across his forearm. “Wonderful. If I wanted to train for a bodybuilding contest, who should I talk to at the gym? Just for some initial pointers. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now. No time like the present.”
“Max is the one you need to see,” the barman said without hesitation. “He’s an ex-bodybuilder and knows everything that’s worth knowing.”
“Thanks! I’ll check it out first thing tomorrow morning. Nice to chat with you.” She paid for her cocktail then wandered over to the group of women by the pool.
“Hello.” Emma pulled out a chair and sat down.
“We’re going to play strip poker. Would you like to play?”
Emma hesitated before deciding it would be a good opportunity to get to know the women. It was possible that one of them had info or had seen something that would help her and Jack in their investigation. She’d just have to slip her questions into the general conversation. “Okay,” she said. “But you’ll have to show me how to play.”
“Oh good.” One of the women rubbed her hands together and grinned wickedly. “A rookie to fleece. Deal up.”
* * * * *
Jack checked their room, but Emma wasn’t there. Since he couldn’t hear any vibrations from behind the mirror, he took the opportunity to search the room. If there were hidden cameras, his search would alert those who had rigged their room, but he decided to risk it. Instinct told him the cameras were activated whenever the voyeurs were present so they wouldn’t need to search through hours of meaningless film. They were probably able to guess when the occupants of the room were present since most guests would attend the gala dinners and special nights. Either that or they had resort staff alert them when guests were in their rooms. He moved in a systematic manner around the room, searching every conceivable hiding place for audio and listening devices.
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