Make Me Crave

by Katee Robert

  Well, fuck that.

  Allie lifted her chin. “I don’t know anything of the sort. It was a forgettable experience across the board.” She jerked her chin at Becka, who watched them with jaw dropped. “Let’s go. Something stinks out here.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  ROMAN SPENT THE rest of the day considering his game plan. Cornering Allie was all well and good, but from the look she’d given him before she paddled away early, if she thought he was trying to talk business, she’d cut him off at the knees. Misplayed the hell out of this.

  There was no use bitching about it. The ideal situation was long gone, so he had to work with what he had.

  What he had was smoking-hot chemistry with Allie Landers. Seeing her in that cocktease of a swimsuit with her hair in beach waves around her shoulders hadn’t done a damn thing to help remind him why he couldn’t have her.

  He decided to give her until tomorrow—or, rather, to give himself until tomorrow—to figure it out. Rushing this wasn’t going to accomplish the end he wanted.

  He checked his email, more to distract himself than because he thought there’d be any information yet. There wasn’t even a single fire for him to put out. Roman ran his hand through his hair. Paradise was all well and good in theory, but it was fucking boring here by himself.

  On a whim, he made his way to the patio where sunset yoga would be held—and stopped short at the sight of Allie in a pair of yoga pants and a tank top that seemed to have too many straps but showed off her body to perfection. As he watched, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and unrolled a mat.

  The instructor—a tiny woman with dark eyes, curly hair and a wide smile—caught sight of him. “The mats are against the wall. Pick a place that feels best for you, but we do prefer to have classes in a single line when there’s a small number of people.”

  Allie turned and her eyebrows shot up, then lowered just as fast. “What are you doing here?”

  “Yoga.” There was no backing out now, even if he wasn’t going to get the relaxation he’d craved. He’d wanted to get time with Allie to talk, but this wasn’t what Roman had in mind. He grabbed one of the mats and flung it out with a snap a decent distance from hers. On her other side, Becka looked between them as if she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react.

  The instructor was all smiles and gentle hands as she picked up his mat and scooted it until it was only a few inches from Allie’s. “Yoga is meant to be experienced as a group. We like to keep it intimate here—which we can’t do if someone is creating distance.” Once she was satisfied he’d obey, she moved to the front of their line and started her intro.

  Roman tried to do yoga a few times a week. He spent too much time sitting behind a desk, and he preferred boxing as his outlet—both activities wreaked havoc on his joints. Yoga helped, and it settled his racing mind like little else, he found.

  Today, there was no settling to be had.

  He had too much awareness of Allie next to him, her body flowing through the positions effortlessly, her breathing deep and even. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered to have him so close. It aggravated him in a way it shouldn’t have, but he wanted to force her to acknowledge that he was right there.

  “Roman, you seem distracted.” The instructor—he couldn’t remember her name, but it was something like Tiffany or Tracy—stopped next to him, using a light touch to adjust his Warrior I stance. “Focus on your breathing. Inhale deeply.” She demonstrated, exhaling slowly through her nose in an audible sound. He followed suit, and she nodded. “Exhale your thoughts. Let your breath center you. You gave yourself this time today. Don’t waste it.”

  He tried. Fuck, he tried. But each inhale brought a faint strain of Allie’s lavender scent, and when she turned to face the side of the patio, he found himself captivated by the faint sheen of sweat on her golden skin.

  It was too much.

  With his being so goddamn in tune with his body, there was no fighting the threatening cockstand. Roman turned on his heel and stalked away, into the main building. He needed distance from that woman, but fuck if it helped. Her scent was in his system, her body a siren call he had no business hearing. She didn’t want him—not now that she knew who he was.

  He shouldn’t want her, either.

  But he did.

  Roman considered heading straight back to his villa, but the thought of being alone right now only increased his agitation. This was a mistake. Which part was the biggest mistake was up for grabs, but he was considering chalking the entire situation up as a loss.

  With nothing left to do, he walked into the bar. It was a small space—no more than a serving counter with a handful of lounge chairs facing the ocean—as everything on the island was. He motioned to the bartender. “I need two shots of whiskey, and a double seven and seven.”

  The man’s eyebrows rose. “Sure thing. You’ve got the run of the place, so post up wherever you like.” He turned back to select two bottles from the wall behind him.

  Roman didn’t want to sit, but standing there and hovering while the guy made his drinks wasn’t going to win him any goodwill. He had enough people pissed at him currently, so he strode to the middle lounger and dropped into it.

  Lazy streaks of color teased the darkening blue of the sky, the first sign of day giving way to night. Roman welcomed the change even as he dreaded what it meant. Another day down. Another night closer to failure.

  It might not be the end of the world if he didn’t secure Allie’s cooperation in franchising her gym model, but her gym would go under. He’d seen the financials. She couldn’t keep it afloat much longer, and it’d be a goddamn tragedy to see it fail. He knew she didn’t look at it that way, but if she’d stop fucking reacting and listen to what he had to say, she might see things differently.

  Right. Because I’ve been the very essence of calm and collected.

  Her rejection stung. He wasn’t about to lie and say it didn’t. It sure as hell did. She hadn’t just rejected the professional persona he displayed for work—she’d rejected him. The sex changed things, for better or worse. Looking like for the worst at the moment.

  The bartender brought his shots over and lined them up, quickly followed by his drink. Alcohol wasn’t the best choice—not when he needed to be sharp and fully present—but he wasn’t going to be around Allie tonight, and the rest of the island could sink into the sea for all he cared. Roman downed one shot and then the second. The fiery burn of whiskey did nothing to chase away his... He didn’t even know what the fuck to call what he was feeling. It wasn’t pleasant—that was all that mattered.

  Women’s voices carried over the beach, and he tensed. Before she walked around the corner, Roman already recognized Allie’s voice. She stopped short when she saw him, but Becka rolled her eyes and gave her friend a small shove. “Enough, already. I get it—he’s a jerk. I won’t even argue with you.” She winked at Roman, not looking the least bit repentant. “But I want a drink, and this is the quickest way to get what I want.” She gave a brilliant smile to someone behind Roman. “Hey, gorgeous. Can we get something fruity and alcoholic?”

  “Sure thing, ma’am.”

  Becka launched into how horrified she was to be called “ma’am” while she walked to the bar, but Allie stopped at the foot of Roman’s lounger. “You ran off pretty unexpectedly.”

  He gave her body a slow caress with his gaze, from her bright pink painted toes to her yoga pants to the tank top that offered her breasts up to perfection. “I was preoccupied.”

  She inhaled sharply, and he didn’t miss the way her nipples pebbled against the fabric of her shirt. “Don’t play games with me. It happened. We’re done. End of story. Stop bringing it up.”

  “I didn’t bring it up.” He climbed to his feet slowly and then closed the distance between them. “A word.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We
need to have a goddamn conversation, so get your panties out of a twist long enough to unstopper your ears and hear what I have to say.” He grabbed her hand and towed her into the growing shadows beneath the palm trees framing the walkway to the beach. Roman didn’t stop until they were out of sight of the bar and far enough away that Becka’s flirting with the bartender was barely audible. Only then did he release Allie and turn to face her. “Now, where were we?”

  * * *

  Allie was so furious, she could barely put two words together. “You don’t get to just decide that we’re having a conversation and haul me out here to do it.”

  “If I was going to haul you anywhere, it’d be over my shoulder.”

  Her body clenched at the thought of him doing exactly that, but she fought her reaction back. “You are insufferable. Do you know when the last time I had a vacation was? Ten goddamn years ago when I was still in freaking high school and on spring break. Ten. Years. Becka had to twist my arm to get me here, but I was enjoying myself—”

  “I know exactly how thoroughly you were enjoying yourself.”

  She ignored that because if she tried to deny it, she’d be a red-faced liar. “That changes nothing. The point is that I’m not enjoying myself now, and the only one to blame for that is you.” She went to push him back a step, but her hands had a will of their own. They stayed on his chest, and she sucked in a breath at how warm his skin was. The man might be a corporate suit, but he looked perfectly at home in his shorts without a shirt on here in the growing darkness near the beach. It was almost enough to forget all the reasons she never wanted to see him again.

  Allie stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Nothing you say can make me believe you’re anything but a goddamn shark.”

  “Who said I’m trying to convince you of anything?” The words brushed her mouth as he leaned down, just a little. “I am a shark, Allie. I’ve never pretended to be anything else.”

  She started to call him a liar, but he was telling the truth. He hadn’t tried to seduce her with sweet words to get her into his bed—he’d offered her exactly what she wanted in as many words. Black-and-white. Simple.

  It wasn’t simple at all.

  “I despise you.”

  “You want me.” His hands rested lightly on her hips. “It tears you up inside that you crave my cock, but you can’t fight it no matter how hard you try.” He backed her up, step by slow step, until she bumped a tree. Roman kept coming, the side of his face brushing hers. “Did you think about how good it’d feel to have my fingers sliding into these yoga pants?”

  “No.”

  “Who’s the liar now, Allie?” His lips caressed her earlobe. “I’d love a private yoga session. Just us. No friends, no instructors, no clothes. How long do you think we’d last before I was on my back and you were riding my cock?”

  She couldn’t breathe. Her skin felt too tight, as if it were several sizes too small, and her core pulsed in time with her racing heart. “I would never—”

  “No, Allie. No more lies between us. You’re pissed that I’m here—I get that—and you’re even more pissed that you want me. Trust me, I know the feeling. I was never supposed to fuck you, and if I’d known who you were...”

  She leaned back enough to look at his face—or what she could see of it in the darkness. “If you’d known who I was, you wouldn’t have gone there with me.”

  Roman cursed. “Even if I’d known your name, that wouldn’t have stopped me from wanting you. Needing you.”

  She stroked her hands down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. “Do you need me now?”

  “I never stopped.”

  This was the worst idea. She needed her head clear, and it was nothing but muddled around Roman. He was too big, too beautiful, too overpowering. Even now, she leaned forward, the few inches between them too much distance. He let her, his hands on her hips branding her—but not trying to guide her. Allie inhaled deeply. “Do you drug your cologne? Because, seriously, how am I supposed to think straight when you smell so good?”

  He chuckled. “I’m not wearing any.”

  He was gorgeous and a god in the bedroom, and he had to smell good naturally. Because of course. “I don’t like you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  She could argue that, but it didn’t feel completely accurate. Allie traced the waistband of his shorts with her fingers. She shouldn’t...but she was going to. She unbuttoned his shorts and slipped her hand in to grip his cock. “I don’t have to know you—I know this.”

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  “Maybe.” Definitely. If she was smart, she’d release him, walk away and spend the rest of her vacation in as close to bliss as she could get, throwing herself into relaxation before she had to go back to reality. She stroked him again, liking the way his body went tense but his hands stayed still on her hips.

  As if he was waiting for permission.

  The realization sent a thrill through her. She kept stroking his cock, teasing him. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

  “What would?” He spoke through gritted teeth, and her body gave another thrill of pleasure.

  “Getting your way.” She squeezed him around the base and nudged his pants down a little farther so she could cup his balls with her free hand. “You thought you’d show up here, interrupt my vacation and what? I’d fall all over myself to give you exactly what you wanted?”

  Roman released one of her hips and braced his hand on the tree behind her. The move brought him closer to her, but not so close that he impeded her movements. She stroked him harder as he slid his cheek against hers, his breathing hitching with every downstroke. He nipped her earlobe. “Isn’t that exactly what happened last night?”

  She glared and gave his balls a squeeze that was just shy of vicious. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s got their nether bits in my hands.”

  “They’re very capable hands.” He shifted to press butterfly kisses along her jaw and down her neck even as his hand on her hip squeezed her. “Don’t stop.”

  “I should.” She didn’t. “I should stop right now and leave you with a wicked case of blue balls.” Why was her breath coming as harshly as his? He’d barely touched her, but having his cock in her hands and him so close... Intoxicating. There was no other word for it.

  Roman gave her collarbone an openmouthed kiss and dragged his hand up her side to palm her breast. “I’ll just go back to my villa and jack myself off thinking of your sweet pussy. Not as good as the real thing—nothing is—but you gave me more than enough inspiration to get the job done.” He tugged the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. It was one of those things with a built-in bra, so the motion freed her breast. He repeated the move with the other side, and she shivered as the breeze coming in off the water teased her nipples. “Beautiful,” Roman murmured.

  “You go overboard with the compliments.” She kept up her leisurely stroking. It was like the rest of the world ceased to exist outside their little sphere. It was just her and Roman, driving each other crazy.

  “I give credit where credit is due.” He bent and sucked one nipple into his mouth. The position meant she had to let go of his cock, which she did with reluctance. He cupped her through her yoga pants, the coolness of the tree against her back only highlighting how warm his body was. “If I slipped my hand in here, would I find you wet and wanting? I think so.” He traced a single finger up the seam of the pants—right over her clit. “I think having my cock in your hands turned you on as much as the fact that we’re ten yards away from the bar and anyone coming up from the beach will get the show of their life.”

  She pushed back against him even as her hips rolled into his touch. “That’s not true.”

  “Liar.” She felt more than heard the word as his breath caressed her neck. “You get off on this as much as I do.” Another stroke th
rough the fabric. “Would you take my cock right here, right now?”

  She started to say yes, but common sense reared its ugly head. “I’m not fucking you without a condom.”

  “Mmm.” He kissed her neck. “I know.” Roman pulled her pants down in a swift movement. She started to protest, but he went to his knees in front of her and yanked her foot free. Oh. He looped one leg over his shoulder and she caught the glimpse of white teeth when he grinned. “Have a little faith, Allie. I’m not a complete monster.” And then his mouth was on her pussy and she didn’t have the breath to argue.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ALLIE FORGOT ALL the reasons she wanted nothing to do with Roman under the slow slide of his tongue. He tasted her pussy as if he’d been years without it and wanted to imprint every last detail on his memory. She bit back a cry and covered her mouth with one hand even as her other laced through his hair and pressed his face closer to her.

  His dark chuckle vibrated over her clit, nearly sending her to outer space. What was he doing to her? She didn’t act like this. She didn’t screw strangers, and she definitely didn’t let a man she was pretty sure she didn’t like give her oral while in clear view of anyone who happened by.

  He pushed two fingers into her and zeroed in on her clit, sucking and then flicking it with his tongue in a rhythm she couldn’t have fought even if she wanted to. His fingers deep inside her circled that sensitive spot and he mirrored the movement with his tongue, driving her ruthlessly over the edge. Her hand muffled her cry, but only barely. Allie slumped against the tree and watched him press his forehead to her stomach as if trying to get control of himself.

  As if fighting not to rise and drive that glorious cock into her right then.

  Finally, he helped her get her foot back into her yoga pants and stepped back while she righted her clothing. Roman didn’t speak, didn’t look at her, and she couldn’t help the dip of disappointment deep in her stomach.

  Allie took a fortifying breath and turned for the bar. She needed a drink and to get the hell out of there. She could smell him on her skin, and between that and the orgasm, she was having a hard time remembering why Roman was off-limits.