Taming Lily

by Monica Murphy

  Pilar Vasquez destroyed my original plan.

  Bitch blew it when she called me. Hell, I blew it by taking her call. Should never have answered it. I could have been inside Lily for the rest of the night, but no. I had to give in and answer my fucking phone, scared out of my mind that woman would have kept calling and calling and calling …

  Thank Christ I never plugged her actual name in my contacts list. I gave her a fake name, Patty Villa, because it’s what I always do with clients. I take extra precautions and though yeah, my phone is password protected, that doesn’t mean shit.

  She gave me an ultimatum. And I hate ultimatums with every fucking thing I have. But I could tell by the tone of her voice that she meant business. She screamed at first, but then her tone dropped, became very even and low and downright menacing. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when she made her threat.

  Women don’t scare me. Hell, no one really scares me. But what she said terrified me—and made me worry for Lily’s safety.

  I’ll tell her. I’ll send her a text and tell her you’re there because of me. That you’re trying to trick her. I’ll blow your cover wide open. I can get the laptop another way. Hire someone else. Someone smarter. Someone meaner. Someone who can get the fucking job done.

  That was it. I couldn’t risk it. The woman has no boundaries, no remorse, no conscience. What if she sent someone after Lily who’s determined to get that laptop and the information inside it, no matter what it takes? By force, if necessary?

  I may be an asshole who’s using her, but I would never physically hurt her.

  Emotionally? Yeah, pretty sure I already did that. Not proud of it, either.

  After I arranged my flight and made a few other necessary phone calls, I texted Pilar and let her know I would be back in New York within forty hours and would bring her what she wanted. She didn’t call me back; she didn’t rant at me via text, something she’s an expert at. Her answer was a simple Good.

  That’s it. Good. But nothing feels good about any of this.

  Nothing.

  I tossed and turned most of the night, trying to figure out a way to get back in Lily’s good graces, and came up empty. She was so pissed. Worse, she looked upset. Hurt. Like I’d disappointed her, which I’m sure I did. I couldn’t come up with a good explanation beyond my work is confidential and it’s complicated. That sounds fucking lame when you’re lying in bed in the middle of the night. Staring at the ceiling, full of regret.

  Sleep came fitfully, and the morning sun blazing through the uncovered sliding glass door—yeah, I was a dumbass and forgot to shut the curtain—made me feel like a vampire. Hissing and squinting and cursing the light as I groaned and threw up my arm to try and block it, reminding me of Lily when she woke up yesterday morning.

  Fuck. Lily. Just thinking about her hurts.

  I took a shower and halfheartedly stroked my cock to relieve my morning wood but I wasn’t into it, so I gave up.

  My dick had a mind of its own and only wanted Lily.

  I plotted and I planned through the rest of my shower. As I packed up what little shit I’d brought to Maui and set my suitcase by the front door. I went to the hotel restaurant and ate breakfast by myself, catching up on email and making a few calls, trying my best to look busy and unobtrusive because I don’t want anyone to notice me.

  No way do I want to be remembered.

  Lily is nowhere to be found and I’m disappointed, though I should be realistic. This resort is huge, filled to the brim with singles and couples, all of them crowding around the pool or the restaurants or the bars. Walking the grounds, jogging, headed to the beach. The place is completely overrun with horny people looking to score, either with the person they brought or someone new and exotic. A stranger they can fuck during a vacation and forget about once they go back to reality.

  Yet somehow, among the crowds and the chaos, in a club or on the beach, we always found each other. As if there’s some sort of magnetic field between us, drawing us closer without our even realizing.

  Maybe I fucked it up. Somehow broke the force field by pissing her off. I regret it. I … miss her. Incredibly stupid on my part because I don’t even know her, and what I do know of her, I shouldn’t like. She accuses me of hiding something, of lying, when she’s the biggest liar out there. I’m not supposed to know she’s Lily Fowler. She’s probably one of the richest people currently staying at this ridiculously expensive hotel but she’s not flaunting it, which goes against her normal behavior. She’s famous, a nonstop party girl who likes to drink and flirt and spend too much money and cause too much trouble. A complete wreck, the press has called her more than once.

  Looks like she wrecked me instead.

  After I finish my late breakfast, I head out to the pool, my gaze automatically searching for Lily. It’s extra crowded today for some reason and I have to go on an extensive hunt to scrounge up an empty lounger. I finally find one and throw my towel on top of it before I settle in. Two women sitting nearby watch me with unabashed interest, but I ignore them.

  There’s only one woman I want to see and so far, she’s nowhere to be found.

  A hotel staffer stops by and takes my drink order and then I settle in, my gaze razor sharp behind my sunglasses as I search the perimeter. The place is packed, mostly with men and women around my age, and there’s lots of alcohol flowing. I keep an eye out for Lily, silently willing her to make an appearance, but maybe she’s gone into hiding. She’s probably purposely avoiding me and I can’t blame her. I fucked it up. Bad. If I can’t find her, talk to her, persuade her I’m not such a bad guy after all, I’m going to have to break into her room and steal that goddamn laptop. A situation that could go sideways at any given moment, and it’s the last thing I want to do.

  I quickly grow restless, pissed that I haven’t come upon Lily yet. And I’d really like to see her in one of those skimpy bikinis she seems to prefer. The waiter shows up, setting my iced tea on the table beside my chair, and asks if I want anything else before he zooms off, ready to feed the hungry and thirsty pool guests.

  “Hey, cowboy.”

  I jerk my head up at the familiar voice to find Lily standing in front of my lounger blocking the sun, her hands on her hips, a sly smile on her face. As if my damn imagination made her materialize in front of me, as if she isn’t furious with me anymore, which is strange.

  And unnerving.

  “Cowboy?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Bringing that back, huh.”

  She shrugs those pretty, bare shoulders, which are turning a bright shade of pink. “You drove like a hell-bent cowboy yesterday so I still think it’s apt, even if you disagree.”

  “I’ve never been much of a cowboy,” I confirm, though I like it when she calls me that. I like it a lot.

  Probably a little too much.

  She stares at me for a moment and I return the look, both of us silent. I see the hesitation in her, can read it in the way she shuffles her feet, how she tucks a wild strand of hair behind her ear and glances around, looking for … an escape?

  I make her nervous.

  And she does the same to me.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she finally says, her voice deceptively nonchalant. I see a challenge in her gaze, one that tells me she’s going somewhere with this. “I definitely like the way you ride me.”

  I regret choosing that precise moment to take a sip from my iced tea because I nearly choke on it. The liquid goes down the wrong pipe and I end up in a coughing fit that lasts maybe thirty seconds, which is thirty seconds too long.

  “You okay?” she asks once I stop.

  Wiping my hand across my mouth, I nod, feeling like an asshole. “Yeah. I’m fine. You just … shocked me.”

  “Bad choice of words?” She tilts her head, waiting for my answer.

  “Interesting choice,” I correct. “Surprising.”

  “How so?” Her head is still tilted as she watches me and I feel on edge. Like one wrong move … if I say or
do the wrong thing, she’ll turn and leave without a backward glance. Offer me up a spectacular view, because nothing’s better than the sight of Lily’s perfect ass in a barely there bikini bottom, but yeah. I don’t want her to leave.

  I need her to stay.

  “I figured you were still pissed at me.”

  A casual shrug is my immediate answer as she contemplates me. “I decided it’s not worth it, to hold a grudge.”

  “Hold a grudge.” I lied to her. I was purposely withholding information. She should tell me to go to hell and hope that I choke on my iced tea and die. Instead she’s saying how she shouldn’t hold a grudge. And she’s watching me like she wants to rub her naked body all over mine.

  “Life’s too short,” she says, laughter tingeing her voice. “Don’t you agree?”

  It feels like a trick question. “I guess.”

  The look she sends me could probably slay me dead. “What are you saying? Are you a grudge holder, Max?”

  “No.” I shake my head. Most men aren’t; at least the ones I know aren’t. I get over shit fairly easy. Unless I’m wronged. Betrayed. I should be pissed at this woman because she’s betraying me as we speak. Keeping her true identity from me even though I know it. I’ve always known it. Meaning I’m betraying her as well. Beating her at her own game. Aren’t we a fucking pair?

  More like a fucked-up pair.

  “Good, because grudges get us nowhere.” She smiles. “I’d like to start over if we can. Cowboy.” Her emphasis on the word isn’t lost on me. If this is what she wants, then I will definitely deliver, because it’s what I want, too.

  For entirely different reasons, of course, and none that I can mention.

  “Well, fancy meeting you here, darlin,’ ” I drawl, though truly, I’m nothing close to a cowboy. I like the nickname, though. More like I appreciate that she came up with it.

  I’d like to see her ride me again like a sexy cowgirl, full breasts swaying with her every move, nipples tight and tempting me to suck them deep into my mouth. Her long, wavy hair falling down her back, eyes heavy lidded and lips parted as pleasure rocks through her …

  Yeah. I’d like to see that real bad.

  Her smile grows and she settles in the chair next to mine, which had been abandoned a few minutes ago. She’s clad in another tiny scrap of a bikini, a real attention-getter in bright yellow, the top a strapless band that barely contains her breasts. The belly ring twinkles and shines in the sunlight, and I’m tempted to flick it with my tongue just before I move down and taste that delicious pussy of hers.

  “What’s your name, cowboy?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

  Seems like she’s taking this starting-over game seriously. “Max,” I say with a shrug. “Yours?”

  “Lily.” She smiles and the sight of it zaps me straight in the heart, then moves lower and settles in my cock. I will myself to remain in control. I don’t need to lounge around a public pool with a boner in my swim trunks, though I wouldn’t doubt there are a few boners standing at attention around here, what with all the fine-looking women wandering around.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say, sitting up and leaning toward her with my hand stretched out.

  She stares at my hand, her eyes going wide before lifting her gaze to meet mine. “My, what big hands you have,” she murmurs as she slips her hand in mine.

  We shake and when she tries to let go, I clamp my fingers around hers, keeping the connection. I missed that connection. It’s not even been twenty-four hours since I was last inside her and I fucking missed her. “The better to touch you with,” I murmur, my heart thudding fast and hard when I see desire light her gaze.

  I let her hand fall from mine and she turns away, keeping her head averted, like she doesn’t want me to see her face—more likely her reaction to my words—which of course makes me want to see her that much more.

  “Maybe you should get out of the sun,” I suggest. My gaze roves over her and I see how pink her skin is. How long has she been out here, anyway? And why didn’t I see her? I looked everywhere. I always found her before. Always.

  But maybe those who don’t want to be found remain in the shadows.

  “You’re probably right.” Her words draw me from my thoughts and I glance up to watch as she turns to face me once more. I’m struck yet again by her beauty. The woman is flat-out gorgeous. And she doesn’t have a lick of makeup on, not that I can tell, and this afternoon she’s forgone jewelry, too, except for the belly ring. Just a bikini and her hair twisted into a knot on top of her head, wild tendrils curling around her face. She doesn’t even have her sunglasses on. She looks like she ran out of her fancy bungalow in a big hurry.

  To come find me, maybe?

  Probably not. More like wishful thinking on my part.

  “Got sunscreen on?” I ask. The pink hue of her skin looks like it could get painful fairly quick if she doesn’t watch it, her chest especially. The Hawaiian sun is intense. Don’t want all that pretty flesh burnt.

  “I didn’t even bring my bag with me.” She bites her lower lip and I want to groan. Damn, she’s sexy when she studies me like that. Those big, unblinking eyes, the way she looks at me like she wants to lick me up and down. “I was hiding from you, you know,” she confesses softly.

  No surprise. I say nothing, just study her and hope she senses I want to hear more.

  “I could’ve stayed at my bungalow, but I didn’t want to be alone.” She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and I’m filled with the almost violent urge to grab hold of her and kiss her. Push her right into that lounger and let my hands roam all over her body.

  “You didn’t?”

  She releases her lip, then licks it. The sight of her pink tongue makes me hiss in a breath. Fuck, being so close to her like this and not able to touch her hurts. “No. I was so pissed at you last night, Max. So fucking angry …” Her voice drifts and I sit up straight, shocked by her display of honesty. “But despite myself I came down here looking for you. And when I saw you, I hid. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

  “It makes perfect sense.” I get it, though I’m shocked by her admission. She’s a game player, one of the best from what I can tell, and I didn’t expect her to tell me the truth.

  “Really?” Her voice is full of hope, like she’s pleased I understand her.

  “Yeah, princess,” I murmur. “I missed you last night. This morning.”

  “Is it wrong I like that you missed me?” When I open my mouth she rushes to add, “Don’t answer that.”

  “We’re drawn to each other, like we can’t help it,” I tell her, my voice low, my gaze locked on hers for a lingering moment before I let it sweep down her sexy-as-hell, pretty much all-on-display body. That body is mine. I own it, at least for the remainder of the time that I’m here on Maui. And this afternoon, tonight, I plan on exploring every last bit of that sexy body until I make her scream.

  Again and again.

  “I don’t want to lay out around this pool. I was hoping that maybe we could go back to my bungalow and sit on my lanai,” she suggests shyly.

  Would you look at that. Lily Fowler, shy. Un-fucking-believable.

  “Why do you want to sit on your lanai?” I know why I want to. Fewer people, less hassle, less everything. I figure she’s the type who likes the attention, though. That she’d want to strut herself around in front of anyone who happened to look, their hungry gazes feeding her equally hungry ego.

  Maybe I’m wrong.

  “So I can get a tan without tan lines?” She smirks, batting her eyelashes at me, and I burst out laughing, trying my best to ignore the arousal swiftly moving beneath my skin, settling in my cock.

  I sit up, scooting to the edge of my lounger so I can get closer to her. Lowering my voice, I murmur, “You thinking of lying out naked?”

  Without a word she nods, the smirk disappearing. I can see the way her chest flushes deeper than the faint sunburn, the wild flutter of her pulse at the base of her neck. “At lea
st with my top off,” she admits quietly.

  My gaze drops to her top. Her nipples press against the fabric, tiny and firm, and I want to put my mouth on them, on her, so fucking bad I can barely stand it. “I’d like to see that,” I admit hoarsely, even though I’ve seen her breasts enough that I can close my eyes and conjure them up in my mind. Full and soft, with rosy pink nipples that taste like heaven, a perfect handful, mouthful, whatever.

  I’m done playing games. I need to move this shit along, and besides, I’m dying to have my mouth and my hands on her again, for one last night. My time is limited. I need to make this happen.

  “I want to show you,” she whispers.

  “You’re not mincing words today, princess.”

  “I figured what’s the point? Why fight it?” She stares at me, those pretty eyes never leaving mine. “I know what I want.”

  My skin tightens. She keeps this talk up and I really will end up making an ass out of myself, walking around the pool with a hard-on. “You do, huh? And what would that be?”

  She leans in closer, her hand going to my knee. Her touch burns, awareness sizzling through me as my gaze drops to her lips, and I watch as they form one perfect word.

  “You.”

  We stare at each other for a long, tension-filled moment like a couple of dumb kids until I decide to not waste any more time. Reaching for her hand, I stand, taking her with me. She grabs hold of my cell phone and gives it to me and I shove it in the pocket of my swim trunks.

  We don’t say a word as we exit the pool area, our hands still clasped together, fingers entwined. I lead her through the lobby without a word toward the bungalow area, and she practically runs to keep up with my stride.

  It doesn’t matter how eager I seem. She’s right. Why bother hiding it? The chemistry between us is there, strong and overwhelming, and I’m not going to deny myself one last chance for us to be together and neither is she. This is the perfect excuse to get in her bedroom, get some satisfaction, give her some satisfaction, and then …