All I Desire (Paradise Beach Book 4)

by Tamara Lush

  She nips my bottom lip, then kisses me, her tongue touching mine. “I’m very free after work.”

  “Good. So, let’s continue this conversation a little later.”

  “Sounds good. Crap. What time is it?” She reaches for my wrist and checks my watch. “Ugh, I’m late. I need to call the nudist people. The naturists.”

  I put my hand on her back as we walk inside. “Do you have to be naked while the naturists are here?”

  Her laugh is infectious, and we both crack up. There’s something so easy, so natural, about being with Natalia. I don’t have to try to be a witty conversationalist or a comedian. We just click. It’s an incredible feeling after a few years of tepid dates and awkward conversations.

  “Maybe. I didn’t consider that. What if I do?”

  “Well, then I guess I’d suddenly become a naturist. Book me a room now.”

  We’re at her office door. “See you tonight. My place?” she whispers, kissing me on the cheek.

  “Thanks for lunch. And yes, your place. I’ll bring food. Any preferences?”

  “Surprise me. Bye,” she whispers, disappearing behind her office door.

  As I’m walking out, I pass by a man and a woman. They’re several years younger, dressed in casual beach clothes. Probably guests at the resort.

  But the guy stares at me as if I’m an evil ghost. I’m not a confrontational person, but he’s gaping at me so hard that I’m tempted to ask what his damned problem is.

  “Remy, don’t stare, that’s so rude,” the woman hisses, hitting his belly with the back of her hand. She takes his arm and the pair hustles out of the lobby and into the courtyard; I keep on going to the parking lot.

  Odd. Isn’t Natalia’s brother named Remy? That’s not exactly a common name. Or perhaps I heard wrong. Maybe she said Timmy. And that guy looked nothing like her — he was beefy, dark-haired, and tan. Weird. Eh, whatever. He probably mistook me for someone else. That happens sometimes. I’ve been told that I have a generically handsome face.

  Not gonna let it bug me. I’ve got too many good things going on. I fire up the truck and call Chloe on the speakerphone while driving back to my office at the executive airport on the other side of the island.

  “Hey Dad.”

  “Hey kiddo. I have a surprise for you. You like mermaids?”

  “Yeah. Definitely.”

  “I have a friend who knows some real-life mermaids here on Paradise Beach.”

  “Dad. Mermaids don’t exist…” She’s put on her big-girl, matter-of-fact voice now. But I can tell she’s intrigued. She’s probably both rolling her eyes and grinning.

  “I dunno. We’ll see. Just clear your calendar for when you get here. I think you’re going to love this.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m excited about a new start. I was thinking about that today.”

  My heart both swells and aches from her small, hopeful tone. “Me too, kiddo. Me too. I think Paradise Beach is going to be really great for both of us.”

  Chapter Eleven

  NATALIA

  “I hope pizza’s okay with you.”

  I stand aside, allowing a grinning Matthew to walk into my condo. He’s carrying an oversized pizza box from Island Pies, and my mouth waters at the smell of cheese and dough. And the sight of him. He’s in faded jeans and a simple, white T-shirt.

  The urge to run my hands over those muscular biceps of his is strong. I refrain, because I’m not a total freak. Not yet, anyway. Give it an hour or two.

  “Sweet. Pizza’s always okay. Here, you can put it in the kitchen.”

  Mister Sinister, who is in the middle of a particularly intense ball-licking session, glances up from the sofa in alarm.

  “Hey cool cat,” Matthew says to Sin as he walks by. The feline, looking aggrieved at the interruption, returns to his privates.

  Matthew follows me to the kitchen and sets the box on the counter. “I got half veggie, half meat. Wasn’t sure which you wanted.”

  “Meat, dude. Meat. Only meat,” I blurt, and we both laugh.

  He turns to me, and I wrap him in a hug. “Thanks for bringing the pizza. I’ve got some wine around here somewhere.”

  Oh, he smells amazing. Like he just scrubbed down with a giant bar of Irish Spring soap. Yeah, I really want to bite him. Kiss him. Feast on his smooth skin. Screw the pizza. We hug hard for a second and I brush my lips on the bare column of his neck, unable to control myself.

  His hands skim my back. Then, we’re kissing.

  Okay, we’re making out. No, we’re ravenously assaulting each other’s mouths, swapping spit and touching tongues. All afternoon, I’d thought about what we’d do tonight. Whether we’d sleep together. If things would turn awkward.

  Things are definitely not awkward. They’re smokin’ hot. And from the rhythm of this kiss, that pizza’s going to get cold and we’re going to get naked. He grabs a handful of my hair and tilts my head back so he can kiss my neck. A warm shiver goes through me. Oh, yeah.

  “Do you need to eat right now, or can it wait?” I hum.

  “I’d prefer to wait, because I’m in the mood for something else.”

  “What’s that?” I purr.

  “You.” He bites me lightly on the neck.

  Oh. My. God. I think my insides just turned to hot, molten goo.

  I laugh and grab his hand, pulling him out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into my bedroom. We tumble onto the bed, him kicking his Vans off in the process.

  “You’re so hot, I swear to God,” he groans as he fumbles at the hem of my tank top. He pulls it over my head, and I strip his T-shirt off of him. Even though I know we have all night together, it feels extremely urgent that we get naked right now.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  When I go to undo my bra, he stops me with a kiss. “Let me. Lie back and let me take care of you.”

  “Take care of me?” I scoot back until I’m resting against my tall, quilted, black headboard. He unhooks the front clasp of my bra and licks his lips while looking at my breasts.

  “Yeah. Take care of you. Make you feel good.” His lips are on my nipple and I arch into him. Oh my, his tongue already feels sublime. This is my kind of TLC.

  I murmur a moan while his hands cup my breasts. His touch is downright worshipful, his focus fully on me. With some guys I’ve been with in the past, I‘ve felt like they were trying to live up to some porn video standard, always checking themselves out in a mirror or trying to contort my body into weird positions. With Matthew, he’s fully present. Checking in with me by making eye contact. Smiling. Kissing a little trail down my cleavage, then following that up with a sensual trace of his finger.

  He unbuttons my shorts, and I watch as he tugs them, and my panties, down my hips.

  I’m naked now, and he’s kneeling, wearing only jeans. I reach to trace the outline of his erection with my fingers, and he watches for a few seconds, then stops me.

  “Can I taste you? Please?” he rasps.

  He looks extremely eager. I nod, flattening my back against the headboard.

  “Spread these beautiful, long legs of yours so I can lick you nice and proper.”

  My cheeks feel like they’re being blasted with flames.

  “You’re blushing, cutie,” he says, touching the tip of my nose with his finger. “I can stop the dirty talk if you don’t like it.”

  “I love the dirty talk,” I admit.

  “Good to hear.” Gently, he takes hold of my ankles and opens my legs. He stares for a moment, then runs his tongue over his lips, grinning.

  “I can’t believe I get to do this to you.”

  And what he does is mind-blowing. I can’t believe he’s so good at this. I suck in a sharp breath, trying to hold my orgasm at bay. Trying not to dissolve into a puddle of oh-my-God-is-this-for-real?

  This man’s so incredible that I might never want oral from any other ma
n again in my life. His tongue is tracing not just the alphabet down there, but an entire love sonnet.

  He’s the Chaucer of cunnilingus. The Vonnegut of vagina. The Orwell of oral.

  “Matthew,” I cry out. The man wields his tongue like a weapon of pleasure. Dear God.

  “Wet. So wet,” he mumbles against my skin, giving me a long lick. Then his fingers are in me, and his lips are on my clit, and holy smokes. I’m squirming against his mouth and grinding against his face, and it’s the filthiest, sweetest thing I’ve experienced in years. My orgasm comes easily, surprisingly so, and I ride it out. Well, I ride his face. And he seems to enjoy every second, which makes it that much better.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I chant. My legs are shaking and my clit is throbbing against his mouth and oh yeah, there’s the orgasm. There’s the rollercoaster dip of pleasure that makes my muscles tighten then release. It’s so damned good. As if sparkles suddenly appear out of thin air.

  I moan and slide down the headboard to a flat position, boneless. “Wow, wow, wow.”

  He sits up, his erection throbbing against his zipper.

  Still shaky, I reach for his belt buckle. “That’s a triumphant smile if I ever saw one.”

  “I feel like I’ve unlocked an achievement level.”

  Oh, he has.

  I manage to undo his buckle and get his jeans unzipped halfway — it’s difficult when his hard cock is jutting into the fabric — and I let him take over. Hazy with desire, I flop back against the pillow so I can watch him take off his pants.

  When his erection bounces free, I open my eyes all the way. “Whoa.”

  He looks up, into my eyes. “Whoa?”

  “Yeah. You’re…big.” I swallow.

  A small grin lifts the corners of his mouth and he leans in to kiss me, his giant cock brushing against my stomach. “Is this a bad thing?”

  “No. But…” I turn my head to the nightstand, giggling. “I bought condoms and I’m not sure they’ll fit.”

  He leans over and slides the drawer open. “Flattery will get you everywhere. What have we here? Hmm.”

  I’m focused on his cock and reach around to squeeze his butt while he’s looking in my nightstand.

  “All sorts of goodies here. Vibrator. Dildo. Lube. Condoms.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That’s my self-pleasure drawer. Don’t be threatened or anything.”

  He leans to kiss me. “Why would I be threatened?”

  “Because some dudes think that vibrators and dildoes spoil women.”

  He snorts. “Just the opposite. I was thinking about how hot it would be if you used this little thing. If you’re multi orgasmic, that is.”

  He picks up a small bullet vibe and I snatch it out of his hands. “You focus on the condom. I’ll take care of this.”

  Laughing, he picks up the condom box and tears it open, then rips the top off a foil pack. I bite my lip and grin while watching him roll it on.

  “Wow,” I mutter through my giggles. “It fits. Barely.”

  I squirm into place, opening my legs. Click the bullet vibe on and off. This is going to be incredible, but I do have one lingering worry.

  “Matthew?”

  He kisses me gently. “Yes, Natalia?”

  “I’m super wet now, thanks to you. But…” I kiss him again, my stomach tightening. Sometimes this request is met with derision or scoffing from dudes. “I want to stay wet so I don’t get irritation from friction. It’s sometimes an issue. Would you mind if we used a little lube?”

  “Not at all, babe. Not at all.” He sits up and grabs my little bottle of lube. “Mind if I do the honors?”

  “Go ahead.” I’m delighted that he’s not being weird about vibrators and lube.

  He squirts the substance onto his thick fingers, then touches me lightly. It makes me shiver, then moan. Then he trails his drenched middle finger to my clit. Everything’s so slippery now, exactly as I like it. I whimper and let my eyes shut while he strokes me.

  “I could just do this for an hour. More than an hour,” he growls. “Is that what you want? Because I’m all for it.”

  Decisions, decisions.

  “No, I want you inside,” I plead, clicking the vibe on again. “Please?”

  I open my eyes in time to see him guiding himself into me. Since I want the full sensation, without the added enhancement of the vibrator, I relax as he enters me. He’s deliciously big and slides in easily because of all the wetness. Yum.

  “Oh my, Matthew. You feel incredible.”

  “So do you. You’re the perfect fit for me.” He grins wickedly and looks into my eyes while sliding in and out. The way he rolls his hips is some expert-level sexing. Dear God. How did I find this guy?

  “You gonna use that vibe?”

  “You want me to?”

  “Oh yeah, Natalia. Definitely.”

  I click it on and hitch my knees up so he’s in a little deeper. He groans.

  “I’ll probably come pretty fast. Or maybe a few times,” I whisper

  “You come as much as you want. Just enjoy the ride.” His voice is hoarse, desperate.

  And so, I ride. Or he rides. Or we both ride each other. I don’t even know; I’m so swept away by what we’re doing. Lord, have mercy. My second orgasm comes quick, all centered in my clit. I give that area a rest for a few minutes while he picks up speed, then press the bullet vibe against my clit again — at his encouragement.

  The third orgasm is clitoral, vaginal, cerebral. It feels like I’m about to black out from sheer bliss, and I cling to him while he’s thrusting and rasping something about how he’s about to come, too. And he does, with a long, sensual moan.

  We end up tangled together, a sweaty, quivering, post-orgasm mass of sticky flesh.

  I start to laugh.

  “What?” he asks.

  “That was incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever had a first time with anyone that was that incredible. Or any time that was so incredible. Not trying to scare you or anything. But you’re amazing with the sexing. You’re like a sex god. A sex Olympian. I’d like to give you a gold medal.”

  He guffaws. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been called a sex god. But I like it. And you were…”

  “What?” Because of my past, I’m half-waiting for him to say something nasty.

  He pauses and we stare into each other’s eyes. “Perfect.” His voice is quiet.

  My lips find his jaw and I nuzzle him for a few seconds. “Matthew?”

  “Yeah?”

  “My leg’s cramping. And I don’t think I can move after what we just did. So, I’ll just live here for the rest of my life, okay? Throw me some food every now and then.”

  “Oh! Sorry.” He slides out of me with a small inhale, then stands up. “Bathroom?”

  I point to the door, feeling the delicious ache between my legs. “Right and then left. Only other door in the hall. Be on the lookout for Sin.”

  “Want me to bring the pizza in after? And some wine? Or do you not eat in bed?”

  Holy crap this guy is the best. “Um, yeah. I’ll eat in bed with you any time. And you can eat me in bed any time, that’s for sure,” I call out, and he chuckles.

  “Deal,” he hollers back.

  I snicker about that exchange for a few seconds. What can I say? Sometimes I have the mind of a fourteen-year-old boy. While lolling on the bed, I see Sin careen down the hall.

  “Dude, not my balls,” I hear Matthew say out loud, then he laughs. I press my face into the pillow, stifling a giggle. He’s so easygoing.

  For the rest of the evening, my dirty mind turns gooey with Irish Spring soap and sex-scented sweetness. I could really get used to this man, even if he is a single dad. Maybe meeting his daughter won’t be so bad. If he’s this incredible, his kid must be, too.

  As the clock strikes twelve, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  MATTHEW

  The morning sun warms my face, and I take a deep inhale of s
alt air. Goddamn, my body hasn’t felt this good in years. Since I only got a few hours of sleep last night, I should be exhausted. Instead, I’m buzzing with a focused, calm energy.

  “Hey.” Natalia’s voice is soft. I open my eyes to see her standing next to my chair with a mug of coffee in her hands. We’re on her balcony, which overlooks the Gulf. Since it’s eight in the morning, the sky is awash in golden sunshine.

  “I can’t cook, but I can make amazing coffee. Here you go. Black, no sugar, sugar pie.”

  I take the coffee and grin. I love that we’re already calling each other pet names. “Thanks, babe.”

  She sinks into the chair next to me, extending her long legs so that she’s resting her bare feet on the balcony rail. Her toenails are painted a sexy nude color. This morning, she’s wearing a pair of tiny, black jogging shorts and a thin, white tank top, which means I can see the faint outlines of her dusky nipples. I’ve noticed that Natalia doesn’t ever dress too feminine, but she still ends up looking graceful and gorgeous. I’d call her style grown up, minimalist tomboy, and something about it is irresistibly hot.

  “Isn’t this the best, morning on the beach? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s why I bought the place.”

  She tilts her head in the direction of the sun’s rays, shutting her eyes. I take in the angles and curves of her face. She’s wearing no makeup and has silver studs in her ears. Her skin is flawless, a fawn-colored, golden brown. Her nose is a touch wide and turned up at the end. When I woke this morning, I had an insane urge to rub the tip with my finger, it was so adorably sexy.

  “Are you looking at me, Matthew?” The way her cheeks plump when she smiles is stunning.

  “Yep. Can’t help it.” I sip my coffee and turn my attention to the Gulf, which isn’t as gorgeous as her.

  “Silly.”

  “You do make good coffee. Damn, woman.” She reaches for my hand and I bring her fingers to my lips. “Yeah, you made the right decision choosing this place.”

  “I looked at condos both with views to the east or to the west. Sunrise or sunset. I decided that I’d rather have beautiful sunrises. I’m more of a morning person.”