First Strike

by Pamela Clare

  “Not in Puerto Rico, bella.” He did his coquí imitation again. “They do sound more like birds—you’re right about that. And they are tiny—but very loud.”

  They reached the beach marker that indicated the end of the hotel’s property and stopped, turning to look out at the dark water. The breeze caught her hair, the hem of her dress. God, she was beautiful.

  “Where will you be this time tomorrow?” she asked, her hand warm in his.

  He did a little math. “I’ll be about to land at JFK. How about you?”

  “They haven’t sorted out my visa problems, so it looks like I’ll be staying here for a few more days.” There was a tone of resignation to her voice.

  “Where are you headed next?”

  She looked up at him, an apology written on her face. “I can’t talk about it. I wish I could. I trust you, but my security contract—”

  “No worries. I understand.” He leaned down and kissed her. “Dance with me?”

  In the distance he could hear “Time to Say Goodbye” playing as the Dubai Fountain put on a show for another nighttime crowd.

  She rested her hand in his, her other arm going around his shoulder as she slipped into his arms. “I’ve had such a great time with you.”

  “Same here.” He smiled. “It’s not over yet, bella.”

  They danced slow circles in the sand, Javier singing the words to the Spanish version of the song, the melancholy music putting a strange ache in his chest, an ache he saw reflected in her eyes. Was she feeling what he was feeling?

  And what exactly was he feeling? He wasn’t sure. He only knew that he wasn’t ready for this to end—and that he wanted to kiss her.

  He leaned down and took her lips with his. This wasn’t the mild peck on the cheek a married man might be able to give his wife in public in Dubai. It was a full-on, open-mouthed kiss that involved tongue, lips, teeth. And it made him want more.

  You’re playing with fire, cabrón.

  They were far from the anonymity of the crowd now, standing where they could be seen, a man and woman alone together, kissing and holding each other tight.

  He drew back. “What do you say we ditch this scene and make the most of tonight back in your hotel room?”

  She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  In the distance, they could hear the crowd at the fountain applauding.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Laura walked through the hotel’s doors and went straight up to her room, Javier not far behind. Their slow dance on the beach and that long, scorching kiss had left her ravenous for him, her need accentuated by knowing that he was leaving in the morning.

  Tomorrow night, she would sleep alone.

  That’s just how it was, of course. She’d been lucky in this big, crazy world to come across a man like him, a man she could enjoy herself with so completely, a man who not only made her body sing, but also respected her boundaries and her career.

  He arrived at her door moments after she did, the intensity and urgency she saw in his eyes a match for what she felt.

  She reached for him, took his hand, and led him to the shower, eager to rinse away the day’s heat and sand. They wasted no time, undressing one another with impatient tugs, stepping together into the warm spray.

  Javier grabbed the soap first. He turned her away from him and drew her back against him, lathering his hands, then rubbing them over her body, taking extra time with her breasts. “Does that feel good, bella?”

  The feel of his soap-slick hands on her wet skin unleashed a flood of heat between her thighs. “Yeah.”

  “Bien.” He plucked her nipples, drew them to hard peaks, the sensation almost unbearably arousing. “How about now?”

  “Even … better.” She felt her legs go weak and reached out to press one hand against the tile wall to steady herself, her fingers slowly sliding down the slick surface.

  He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, the other hand forsaking her breasts to rub soap over her belly, her hips, her bottom. “You have the sexiest ass.”

  He stepped aside, let the water rinse the lather away. Then he bent her forward and forced her feet apart. “Spread your legs.”

  She did as he asked, expecting to feel a sharp sting any second, the memory of last night’s sexy spankings making her bite her lower lip with anticipation.

  Instead of spanking her, he knelt behind her, spread her with his hands, and nipped her ass—one fierce little bite. “I want your scent on me, all over my skin, down my throat. I want to take it home with me.”

  In the next instant he was tasting her, his tongue sliding a serpentine path from her clit to the opening of her vagina. “Mmm.”

  “Javi!” If her fingers could have dug into the tiles, they would have. She clawed at the wet wall, locked her knees, afraid her legs might give out.

  He lapped at her, teased her entrance, moving his head back and forth as if he were trying to bury his face in her, the vigorous motion carrying his tongue back and forth across her clit.

  She’d always loved both getting and giving head, but this was something else, the sensation so raw that she was afraid she’d come too fast to savor it. And she wanted to savor it. She willed her vagina not to tighten, tried to relax and just let the erotic thrill of being devoured by him carry her along, her cheek now pressed against the tile, her breath coming in ragged pants.

  But then he thrust his tongue inside her—and she shattered.

  She cried out, her orgasm so intense that she reached down between her thighs to cup herself as if to hold herself together, his tongue fucking her, forcing its way past her clenching muscles to stroke her until at last her climax had passed. She sagged against the cold wall, breathing hard.

  But he wasn’t finished.

  He drew her upright and turned her in his arms, his mouth coming down on hers, her own musky taste exploding across her tongue. He caught her left leg with his hand and wrapped it around his waist, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush as he slid inside her. “You are so tight, so sweet.”

  She clung to him, her senses filled with him as he picked up the rhythm, his powerful thrusts carrying them both over the edge.

  Laura turned off the water, resting her head against the hard wall of Javier’s chest, his arms encircling her, his heart thudding as hard as hers. The bathroom air was heavy with the scent of sex, his salt and her musk mingling in the steam. She might have stayed like that forever had the hotel phone on her night stand not begun to ring.

  “Helvete!” She pushed out of the shower stall, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself as she ran to answer. She reached it on the fourth ring. “Laura Nilsson.”

  “Miss Nilsson,” a man’s voice said, “I am sorry to disturb you, but we have received a complaint about noise coming from your room. Your neighbor said it sounded as if you were screaming or fighting with someone.”

  Laura’s pulse skipped, her mind racing.

  Think fast, Nilsson, or get ready for a few years in prison.

  She let a quaver come into her voice. “I-I’m very sorry. I received some very upsetting news from home tonight. I was … crying. I didn’t realize I was disturbing anyone.”

  She looked up to see Javier listening, a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, beads of water on his bare chest. He moved quickly and silently to the door, looked out the security peephole, then glanced over at her and shook his head.

  No one was listening in the hallway.

  “I am very sorry to hear that, Miss Nilsson. Is there any way we at the Radisson may be of help to you?”

  “I’m afraid not. There’s nothing to do now but pray for my grandmother.” Laura hated to lie, but she was pretty sure she’d hate prison more.

  “I will keep her in my prayers, Miss Nilsson. So sorry to have troubled you.”

  “I’m the one who is sorry. I let myself get carried away.” Yes, she had, but with sexual bliss, not with grief or worry. “I’ll make certain not to disturb anyone further.”

>   The man wished her a good-night and hung up.

  Laura did the same, then turned and glared at Javier, fighting not to laugh.

  He shrugged, an innocent look on his face that had no right to be there. “What? You were the one who screamed.”

  She tried not to smile. “You made me do it.”

  A grin spread on those magical lips of his. “I told you I would.”

  Javier finished addressing the postcard he planned to mail to Mamá Andreína and set it together with the pen he’d borrowed on Laura’s nightstand. “How long has it been since you’ve been home—and where is home, exactly?”

  They lounged naked on the bed facing each other, sharing a bowl of Medjool dates, Javier trying to stay aware of the time.

  As much as he wanted to ignore the clock, he knew he had to leave her soon. It was already nearing midnight, and he had an early flight. He still needed to pack his duffel, confirm his reservation, print out his boarding pass, get some sleep.

  Then again, who needed sleep? He could sleep on the plane.

  “I have a flat in Manhattan, but I haven’t been there for almost six months.” She nibbled a date, daintily prying the pit out with her fingers. “I spent my last vacation with my mother and grandmother in Stockholm. I’ve been leasing the place to another reporter.”

  A flat in Manhattan.

  Not bad for a twenty-eight-year-old single woman.

  “It must get lonely.”

  She gave a little shrug. “Sometimes, but someone has to do this job. It’s important that people back home know what’s going on. Maybe it sounds egotistical, but I’m a good journalist. I want to do my part.”

  “It doesn’t sound egotistical. It’s the truth. You are good.”

  “Besides, Chris, my cameraman, and I are good friends. He spends more time with me than he does his wife. And Nico, Cody, and Tim—that’s my security team—they’re a lot of fun when they’re not being grumpy and serious.”

  “You and a bunch of guys, huh?” Javier tried to ignore a stab of possessiveness.

  As long as they keep her safe, why do you care, pendejo?

  Because he did. That’s why.

  A slow smile spread across her face. She set the bowl of dates aside and pushed him onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head and leaning over him, her hair spilling around their faces. “Why, Javier Corbray, are you jealous?”

  “Why should I be?” She was playing at control again, and he let her have her way, enjoying the sight of her incredible breasts so close to his mouth. “They’re not here with you. I am.”

  “That’s right.” She leaned down, brushed a kiss over his lips, her voice sexy-soft. “I’ve never kissed any of them.”

  “That’s good.”

  She sat back, raked her nails none too gently down his chest. “I sure as hell never let any of them spank me.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that.”

  She reached back, her arm disappearing behind her, one hand closing around his half-hard cock. “I’ve never seen them naked or given them head.”

  Heat filled his groin as she stroked him to readiness.

  “And I’ve never had any of them inside me.” She raised herself up, lowering herself onto him, guiding his cock into her pussy, taking all of him.

  Paradise.

  He grasped her hips to steady her as she settled herself, leaving it to her to set the pace. “God, I love your body.”

  She smiled, her expression changing to one of sensual pleasure as she rode him, her pace nice and easy, her palms resting on his chest for balance, her clit grinding against his pubic bone. “Give a girl a hand?”

  But he was already on it, cupping her breasts, flicking her nipples with his thumbs, plucking them, rolling them between his fingers, gratified by her shuddering exhale—and the way she grew even wetter.

  He wanted more. “Feed me.”

  He slid his hands behind her, guiding her down, his mouth capturing her puckered nipples, suckling them.

  She moaned, a soft, breathy sound, resting her hands against the headboard, her hips moving faster.

  It was enough to drive Javier crazy, but not enough to make him come. Still, he could tell it was perfect for her, and that was good enough—for now.

  Using one hand to guide her breasts, he slid the other between their bodies and pressed the pad of his thumb just above her clit, moving it in a circular motion, adding pressure.

  “Yes!” She moaned out his name, riding him hard now.

  He felt her vagina tighten around him, felt her body tense, and just had time to put a hand over her mouth to silence her cry before she came.

  She kept up her rhythm until the tremors inside her had passed, then sagged against him, boneless and breathless.

  Still hard and buried inside her, he gave her a moment to catch her breath, and then retook control, flipping her onto her back and pinning her arms over her head as she’d done to him. But, unlike her, he had the physical strength to make it real.

  “It’s my turn.”

  She struggled just enough to test him, her pupils dilating when she realized she truly was pinned down, hunger on her face. “Fuck me.”

  He hammered into her with thrusts that shook the bed, her legs spread wide, her feet resting on his ass, her little moans like music to him. God, it felt good, being inside her like this, her sweet pussy gripping him, her amazing body his to savor. He wanted to stay just like this all night—hard, inside her, on the edge.

  He looked down at her sweet face, and something strange happened.

  He stopped moving and found himself reaching with one hand to cradle her cheek, sexual need melting into tenderness. He pressed his forehead to hers, their gazes locking. “Laura.”

  Her hands slid up his chest to caress his jaw. “Kiss me.”

  He did, moving inside her again, sliding in and out of her with slow strokes, aware of every breath she took, every sound she made, every emotion that stirred behind her blue eyes. “Bella.”

  And when they came, their breathy sighs mingling in a long, desperate kiss, Javier realized he’d never felt this connected to any other woman.

  It was the sound of a closing door that woke him.

  Javier opened his eyes, looked down to see Laura curled up against his chest. He stroked her hair and closed his eyes—then sat upright with a jolt. “¡Puñeta!”

  Had he missed his flight?

  “Fuck!” He glanced at the clock on her nightstand, saw that it was almost seven.

  Laura sat up, the sheet falling away from her bare breasts, her hair tousled. “What’s wrong?”

  “I overslept.” He hadn’t meant to sleep at all, at least not in Laura’s room. “I needed to be at the airport a half hour ago, and I still have to pack.”

  It wasn’t like him to be forgetful or late.

  He jumped out of bed and went in search of his clothes.

  She was on her feet, hurrying through the suite, handing him his jeans, a sock, his boxer briefs. “A cab will get you there in about ten minutes. If you hurry, you can make it before seven-thirty. What time does your flight leave?”

  “Eight-thirty.” He dressed quickly.

  “As long as you’re there at least an hour early, you should be able to make your flight. After seven-thirty, they won’t let you board.”

  He finished buttoning his shirt, glancing around to see if he’d left anything else, anything that might get her into trouble.

  And then it hit him.

  This was goodbye.

  He reached for her, drew her naked body into his arms, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I had a great time, bella. You’re an incredible woman.”

  The words sounded meaningless, far too casual for what he was feeling. He wanted to ask for her phone number and email, wanted to give her his, wanted to tell her that he’d love to see her again, that if she ever needed him, he would be there for her. But he had agreed that their weekend would be a weekend—nothing more.

  Now
the weekend was over.

  No strings.

  Why in the hell did you agree to that, cabrón?

  She stood on tiptoe, kissed him, the sweet scent of sex still on her skin. “Thank you, Javi. You’re the best time ever. Now go.”

  He looked down at her, some part of him rooted to the spot, wanting to make this moment different, but not knowing how to do that. “Stay safe.”

  She smiled. “You too—whatever it is you do.”

  He handed her the extra key card, then turned and walked out of her life like he’d promised her he would.

  But by the time he reached the elevators, he’d made another promise—this one to himself. One day, he would track her down.

  And next time, he wouldn’t let her go so easily.

  Laura sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her bathrobe around her and staring at the closed door, feeling strangely naked and alone. She’d known she would have to say goodbye to Javier today, she just hadn’t expected it to be so abrupt. Nor had she expected it to leave her feeling so … desolate.

  She reached over, ran her hand over the sheets, the bed still warm from his body heat, his scent still on her skin. “Goodbye, Javi.”

  It was the pricking of tears in her eyes that got her to her feet.

  “What’s the matter with you, Nilsson?”

  She wasn’t usually this sentimental. Then again, she didn’t usually hook up with men she didn’t know and spend three days having sex with them—incredible, mind-blowing sex. Most of her lovers—really, there hadn’t been all that many—had been men she’d dated before ending up in bed with them.

  Javier had come out of nowhere. He’d given her more than she could have imagined. And now he was gone.

  But wasn’t this what she’d wanted, what they’d both wanted?

  Yes, it was. They’d met, spent three amazing days together, had incredibly satisfying sex—okay, earth-shattering sex—and now it was time to move on. She should be happy that things had gone so well, not moping around her hotel room.