Hitting The Spot: A Forbidden Flowers Story

by Lynne, Donya

  “I thought it was you.”

  Emma jerked, sloshing coffee over the rim of her cup, and turned around to find a freshly showered Theo stepping out of the house—home, mansion, monument to wealth, whatever—with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

  Her heart somersaulted and landed to a standing ovation from her nipples and stomach, which did a dipsy doodle that sent warmth down through her lady parts.

  He laughed, walking toward her, wearing only a pair of swimming trunks that showed off the glorious golden glow the sun had given him over the past few days. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She quickly pulled herself together. “You didn’t scare me.”

  He stopped at the edge of the pool and smiled at her like he could see through the lie, but he didn’t push her on it. Instead, he raised his cup as if toasting her and said, “Thanks for making coffee.” He blew into it, then took a sip.

  She was alone. With Theo. No crowded club. No loud music. No meddling sisters or goading friends to get in the way.

  Skills. Her sister’s voice echoed inside her head.

  Shaking off what Trina had told her a couple of days ago on the beach, she asked, “How’d you know it was me who was up?”

  He grinned over the rim of his mug as he took another sip, then lowered the base of the brown ceramic cup into his palm, keeping his long index finger hooked around the handle. “I smelled your special blend of hazelnut and french vanilla creamer.” Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he quickly added, “You’re the only one who uses both in your coffee.”

  He knew how she took her coffee. Just how closely had he been watching her? Obviously close enough to know how she dressed her morning joe, despite having spent only three mornings with her. How had Trina noticed what was happening and Emma hadn’t? Theo’s interest in her was so conspicuous now.

  Feeling more confident, she turned all the way around, facing him. “So, do you know how all of your guests take their coffee, Theo?”

  He looked down and flashed his dimples, smiling like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Uh, no.” He chuckled awkwardly and scratched his thumbnail over his eyebrow as he sheepishly squinted out over the ocean before his eyes met hers again. “Just the ones I’ve taken a personal interest in.”

  Something passed between them. A feeling, a magnetic pull . . . a knowing that neither was alone in how they felt about the other.

  “Personal interest?” she asked quietly, not daring to hope that he was about to make this peacefully perfect morning even better.

  He stared at her for a long moment, then knelt, set down his coffee, and slid into the pool. His gaze remained fixed on hers as he crossed the narrow expanse. Once he reached her, he took her almost empty mug from her, tossed it to the sand below, then cupped her face in both hands before placing the softest, tenderest, most unassuming, but most intense kiss she’d ever experienced on her mouth. Her lips went up in flames, as did other parts of her body, and she swayed forward dreamily as he gently pulled away.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he whispered, caressing her chin with this thumb while tipping his forehead against hers.

  Was this really happening?

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He eased her against the side of the pool. “The timing wasn’t right. You were dating that guy, Chad, or whatever his name was.” His lips brushed over hers again as she resisted grinning at his disdainful tone. “And I was sort of dating someone too.”

  Her back pressed against the wall. “And now you’re not?” Trina had said as much, but Emma preferred to hear it from him.

  “No.” He circled the tip of her nose with his, then lightly kissed it. “When I heard that you and your boyfriend had broken up, I ended it.”

  “Why?”

  He pulled back, stared into her eyes for one blistering moment, then said, “So that one day, when the time was right, I could do this.”

  In one breathtaking move, he encircled her waist with one arm and pulled her close as he plunged completely into her personal space and claimed her mouth with an explosive lip-lock that sent shock waves to the tips of her toes.

  The searing intensity of his craving for her fritzed out her mental synapses like he’d given her shock treatment. It was as if he’d been forcing himself to resist temptation for weeks, and now that he had finally given in, he couldn’t stop feasting. In a wordless demand, he urged her to open for him, nipping and tugging her bottom lip with his teeth. He tasted of fresh coffee, mint toothpaste, and pure desire.

  Moaning, her palm glided around to the back of his neck as she deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to plunder hers with the greed and hunger of a man ravenous with need.

  She had wanted this for weeks. She had dreamed about it. Fantasized about his hard body pressed against hers.

  His large, sturdy hand dipped beneath the water and around the back of her thigh, where he gripped and pulled her leg up and around his hip, pushing his erection against her. Gasping at the jolt of warmth that shot through her core, she lifted her other leg and wrapped both around his waist as their passion quickly escalated.

  He rubbed himself against her, groaning with heightened fervor as he tipped her head back and scraped his teeth down the slope of her jaw and up to her ear.

  “If we don’t slow down,” he said gruffly, “I’m not going to be able to stop.”

  Breathing heavily, she nodded, agreeing with the reason in his voice even though her body wanted more.

  She began to unhook her legs from around his waist, and—at least momentarily—he seemed prepared to let her go. Then, as if reconsidering, he clutched her thighs and hoisted them back around his hips as he rocked forward and assaulted her mouth again with increased ferocity.

  Emma’s stomach clenched with arousal as he gripped the back of her upper thighs and ground his erection against her sweet spot.

  Unfortunately, she knew from experience that as aroused as she was able to get during foreplay, it quickly evaporated once things progressed to actual sex.

  But this was Theo. He had skills. Maybe sex with him would be different.

  Maybe.

  He drew in his breath and released her mouth but continued to gently rock his body against hers. “I don’t want to, but we need to stop.” His words whispered out hoarsely, his breath coming in tight but deep bursts, as if he were barely restraining himself from tearing off her bikini and taking her right there, right now.

  She nodded but didn’t loosen her grip on his neck and shoulders. They did need to stop. She wasn’t ready to have sex with him yet. She wanted to have a little more time to enjoy the anticipation that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to pull out of her what no other man had. Rushing into sex now would end the suspense, and right now, suspense was all she had. It was the only prospect of pleasure she could cling to.

  He tipped his forehead against hers, bringing his body back under control. “This was so much better than I imagined.”

  She smiled at the way his hands smoothed up and down her outer thighs and over her hips like he couldn’t stop touching her. “What was?”

  “Kissing you for the first time.”

  “Was that what that was?” she asked. “Just a kiss?” From her perspective, they had just done a whole lot more than kiss. Hell, they’d been on the verge of having sex barely two minutes ago. All he had needed to do was shove down the waist of his swim trunks, push aside her bikini, and they would’ve been there.

  He smiled and eyed her lips like all he wanted was to kiss her again. “Okay, so maybe it was a little more than that.” He wound one arm around her and tugged her closer. “All I’m saying is that for a ‘first kiss’ it was pretty damn good.”

  She playfully nudged the tip of her nose against his. “So, does that mean you plan on kissing me again?”

  He released a sound that was part groan, part growl as he set her down and cupped her face in both of
his hands. “Oh yeah, Emma, I definitely plan on kissing you again.” To prove his point, he did just that, kissing her long, deep, and slow, letting his lips linger against hers before he broke away and ran his wet fingers through her damp hair as his gaze drank in her face. “I want to do everything with you.”

  Her body shivered. “Everything?” She wanted everything too. More kisses, their naked bodies pressed together, his hands all over her, the sex, and the orgasms she had no idea if he could deliver, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. She wanted it all with Theo. But what if her body went into lockdown again? What if his skills weren’t enough to unleash the pleasure pinned inside her?

  His eyes blazed with fiery intention as he lightly caressed her lips with this thumb. “Everything,” he reaffirmed. The backs of his fingers stroked down the side of her neck and over her shoulder before curving back around to leave a simmering trail along her collarbone. “I want to do everything with you, Emma.” His lips brushed her forehead. “I’ve dreamed of it for months . . . all the ways I want to make you mine”—he kissed her brow—“all the ways I want to make you come.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And I will,” he said. “I will make you come harder than you ever thought possible. You will feel things with me you’ve never felt with any man. I promise.”

  She liked the sound of tha—

  Wait, what?

  She sucked in her breath and jerked away from him as a flash of dread burst inside her chest.

  Why had he said that? Why had he used those exact words and that confident, knowing tone? Like he knew all about her embarrassing little secret and wanted to reassure her that he would be different from all the other men who had failed her in the past?

  Had her sisters ratted her out? Even after she’d told them not to say anything? Had they betrayed her confidence and revealed her secret anyway?

  Taking another step back, she looked him up and down as if that would reveal how much he knew about her frigidity.

  He frowned, eyeing her curiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Why did you say that?” she asked, crossing her arms protectively over the front of her body.

  “Say what?”

  “That you’re going to make me feel things I’ve never felt before.” She couldn’t keep the accusation from her tone.

  He shook his head, opening his mouth as if to answer, but no words came out. The guy appeared dumbfounded.

  “Did my sisters put you up to this?” She stepped to the side, away from him.

  A few minutes ago, everything had been perfect, but now . . .? Had this whole scene been a forced setup orchestrated by her meddling sisters?

  “What . . . I . . .?” His tanned cheeks flushed with color.

  Guilty.

  “Trina put you up to this, didn’t she?” Emma said, pushing through the water toward the other side.

  This wasn’t how she’d wanted things to unfold with Theo. She had wanted their relationship to develop organically and without interference, and she had wanted to share her secret with him on her own timeline, not Trina’s or Abby’s. Now, all she could think was that Theo pitied her and saw her as a challenging conquest: if he could make her come, he would earn another notch on his bedpost.

  “Emma . . .”

  She pulled herself out of the pool before he could stop her, then grabbed her dress from the lounge chair on her way to the door.

  “Emma, wait. It’s no big deal.”

  She whirled around. “No big deal?” She was one decibel shy of shouting. “My sex life is none of Trina’s business.”

  Theo’s frown deepened into a confused furrow. “What? Emma, that’s not what—”

  She spun away and threw open the door, not wanting him to see her sprouting tears of anger and humiliation and mistake them for sorrow or weakness.

  “Emma, wait!”

  She heard the water slosh as he lurched out of the pool and raced after her, his wet footfalls slapping the tiled floor as he hurried to catch up. But she was well ahead of him, taking the stairs two at a time. When she hit the landing, she bolted to her room and locked the door behind her. Then she ducked into her en suite bathroom and locked that door, too, turning on the shower so she didn’t have to hear him knocking.

  How could Trina do this to her? She’d had no right to tell Theo about her sexual problems. No right! How could Emma face him now? Mortified didn’t even begin to cover the extreme of her humiliation. She wanted to know that Theo wanted to be with her because he liked her, not because she was a challenge. Not because she needed a Jedi Master to train her in the ways of achieving orgasm.

  She sank to the marble tile and buried her face in her hands. How had her morning gone from so great to so awful so fast? And the sun wasn’t even up yet.

  Chapter Four

  A knock came at Emma’s door as she folded another T-shirt and dropped it in her suitcase.

  “Emma?” Trina. Traitor.

  Emma refused to let her in. Instead, she grabbed a pair of shorts and folded them.

  “Emma, please let me in.” Trina knocked again, more forcefully.

  “Go away.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No, not until you hear me out.”

  Emma flung her sandals into her suitcase. “I really don’t think you have anything to say that I want to hear right now, Trina.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Emma.”

  “Oh, do I?” She piled her bikinis and bathing suits on top of her clothes.

  “Yes. I never told Theo what you told Abby and me. About . . . you know . . . what you told us the other day.”

  Emma stopped packing and looked at the door. “You’re lying.” But even as she lobbed the accusation at her sister, she was backtracking and replaying her discussion with Theo.

  “I’m not lying, Em. Let me in. Please.”

  Theo hadn’t actually said that he was aware of her predicament. He’d only said that he wanted to make her feel things she’d never felt before. Had he only been making a generic statement? A seductive pass to whet her appetite for more?

  Was it possible that Emma had let her own insecurities about her sexual dysfunction blow Theo’s words out of proportion? Had she become so hypersensitive about her inability to reach the finish line during sex that she subconsciously wore her shame like a scarlet letter everyone could see and had mistakenly blamed her sisters for a crime they hadn’t committed?

  Even if that were the case, she wasn’t going to let Trina off the hook so easily. She’d said something—that much was clear—when she shouldn’t have said anything at all.

  She went to the door and flung it open to find Trina wearing a contrite smile and holding a small plate with a blueberry muffin on it.

  Trina raised the plate toward her. “Peace offering.”

  The fluffy, golden-crusted morsel did smell good. Emma hadn’t eaten breakfast, foregoing the uncomfortable face to face with Theo and her sisters in front of the others.

  Emma swiped the plate and pivoted back toward her suitcase, aloofly depositing the muffin on the dresser.

  “What are you doing?” Trina asked, eyeing the suitcases on Emma’s bed as she shut the door.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m packing.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going home.” She went to the bathroom and began collecting her toiletries. When she turned to go back to the room, Trina was blocking the door. “Get out of my way.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today, Trina.” The sting of angry tears bit at the backs of her eyes, and she forced her way past her.

  “I didn’t tell Theo that you’ve never had an orgasm during sex, Em.”

  “But you talked to him.”

  “Yes, but only to give him a little nudge.”

  Emma threw her hairbrush into her bag. “You shouldn’t have talked to him at all.”

  Trina reared back at Emma’s bi
ting tone as if she’d been slapped. “I was only trying to help.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore, Treen. I don’t need you passing notes to boys on my behalf.”

  “I wasn’t passing notes to—” Her sister’s words halted abruptly, and she reeled in her frustration as she took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “I thought I was helping. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  Emma stopped and looked at her, unsure how to respond. She hadn’t expected Trina to own up so quickly and apologize.

  Trina sighed. “Please don’t leave, Em.”

  She shook her head, reliving the humiliation she’d felt this morning when she’d thought her sister had told Theo about her deficiencies in the bedroom. Now it was her reaction that embarrassed her. She had run from Theo like a scared baby.

  Defeated, she dropped onto the edge of the bed. “I can’t face him now. Not after this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I feel like an idiot. And he probably thinks I’m neurotic.” She dropped her face into her palm.

  Trina sat beside her. “No, he thinks you’re pretty fucking incredible.”

  Emma released a bitter laugh as she looked up. “Bullshit.”

  Her sister lifted one hand in concession. “Okay, so he’s confused about what happened this morning, but wouldn’t you be, too, if you’d been seducing the woman you had the hots for when she suddenly bolts and leaves you hanging with a hard-on and no explanation?”

  Groaning, Emma closed her eyes and doubled her efforts to bury her face behind both hands instead of just one. “You’re making it worse.”

  “Hey, come on.” Wrapping her arm around Emma’s shoulders, Trina gave her an encouraging shake. “Just talk to him and tell him the truth.”

  “Oh, yes, because that will make this all better.” Because instead of Trina telling him how much of a loser she was in the bedroom, that admission would now come from her own mouth.

  “Would you stop being so dramatic.”

  Emma threw down her hands and stood. “I’m embarrassed, Trina!” She paced to the window overlooking the beach. The sun was high in the azure sky, unlike this morning, when everything had been so dark and magical.