by Avery Flynn
“I know it’s early, but I’m starving.” He spotted eggs, cheese, milk, and green onions. “How do you feel about omelets for dinner?”
“You’re not thinking of cooking.”
He stood up and looked at her over the fridge door. She was still in front of the window basking in the island sun, and he was still getting a very good look—unknown to her—at what he could never again touch. It wasn’t a gut punch, but his dick wasn’t too happy about it. “Why not?”
She crossed her arms and one eyebrow went up. “You do remember the pasta the other night?”
That had been a six on a ten-point scale of epic kitchen disasters, barely a blip, so it hadn’t fazed him. Now the time he’d forgotten the bacon in the oven until it had turned into charcoal briquettes? That had put him off bacon for a good month.
“This is eggs,” he said. “Totally different.”
“Oh yeah, I’m well aware of your”—she made air quotes—“talent with eggs.”
Okay, so he’d overcooked some scrambled eggs to the point that the smell had taken over the apartment and lingered for a week.
“So does that mean you’re cooking?”
She snorted and started toward him. “Not likely. How about sandwiches?”
He checked out the contents of the fridge. “You good with ham and cheese on rye?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He gathered up the ingredients and laid them out on the island, and from there they fell into sandwich assembly. She sliced the romaine while he assembled the sandwiches. It was mellow, relaxed even as they laughed about the walk to the house, and he didn’t set off a single fire alarm. Afterward, he gathered up the sandwich plates while she grabbed a couple of beers and they headed over to the sliding glass doors leading out to the pool and the fire pit.
Everly jerked to a stop in front of him. “Tyler, what in the hell is that?”
Since he’d been distracted by watching her ass as she moved, he had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
“There, pacing in front of the sliding doors.”
It was a raccoon, but way smaller than the thirty-pound bruisers that roamed Central Square Park. Leaner and narrower than the raccoons he was used to, this guy couldn’t weigh more than an average house cat, and its fur was a light grayish-brown color. And he was standing on his back paws with his five-fingered paws pressed against the glass. He wasn’t looking at them, though; this guy’s eyes were trained on their sandwiches.
“My guess is Alfred.”
Her face lost some of its color. “So we eat inside?”
He walked toward the sliding door, and Alfred took a few steps back but stayed standing on his hind legs. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of something the size of a cat.”
“It could be rabid.” Everly took a few cautious steps toward the door, her attention glued to the hungry bandit on the other side.
He jiggled the door handle before sliding it open a few inches. The raccoon scurried back to the underbrush on the other side of the pool, disappearing from sight. Tyler stepped outside, the island’s Florida heat more caressing than beating this time. Everly didn’t follow, but she did poke her head out, looking each way as if a band of rabid zombie raccoons was just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
“Alberto promised he was harmless,” Tyler said with a laugh and sat down in one of the nearby patio chairs, setting the sandwich plates on the small table between it and another chair.
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t take a step forward. “I’m sure someone said that about every serial killer at some point before he started offing everyone.”
Was it wrong to be enjoying this new, unexpected side to Everly? Because he was. The woman had an amazing capacity to surprise him—something he was beginning to enjoy far more than a chess player like him should.
“Come on, I’ll protect you, Ms. 3B—and anyway, the sandwiches are out here, and if you don’t come out, you can’t eat.”
Her stomach let out an audible growl. Victory was his.
“You know there’s more food inside the house, Mr. 2B.”
“Come on, live a little,” he teased.
She took another suspicious look to her left and then her right before finally stepping outside into the sunshine. The breeze played with the hem of her skirt, lifting one corner of it around her calves—the ones he’d felt on his back as he’d fucked her against the trunk of her car. Shit. This was going to be a long, hard lunch.
“I’m warning you now,” she said as she sat down, obviously oblivious to the path his thoughts had gone down. “If Alfred comes back with his murderous buddies, I’ll take you out at the knees to get inside first.”
Tyler laughed and accepted the beer she held out to him. “I would expect nothing less.”
Because when it came to Everly, the best bet was to accept he never knew what to expect.
Chapter Eighteen
As Everly popped the last bite of one half of her sandwich into her mouth, her gaze still scanning the periphery for movement, she relaxed back against her seat and lifted her feet to rest them on the stool in front of her chair. The early evening sun warming her skin as she listened to the sound of the ocean breeze fluttering the palm tree leaves and the occasional chirp and call of birds somewhere out on the island. The combination mellowed the worry about Alfred right out of her.
“You could forget the rest of the world even existed out here,” she said, giving in to the vibe and closing her eyes.
“It’s like the Garden of Eden,” Tyler said.
The absence of sight only accentuated the sexiness of his voice. The cultured tones hiding—almost completely—the rough and tumble accent underneath. The conflicting combination did dangerous things to her, the kind that led to banging him in the parking garage.
Before that memory could take over, she jerked her focus back to the here and now. “Just with a raccoon instead of a snake.”
“Poor Alfred, hated before he’s even had a chance to introduce himself.”
The temptation to open her eyes and read Tyler’s face was strong, but there was an intimacy to having a chat with your eyes closed that she didn’t want to give up. “You have a lot of sympathy for that fur ball.”
“I know how it feels to be prejudged.”
There was a lot of weight behind those words, but their tentative truce wasn’t made for seeking greater understanding. They were both just trying to get through the weekend.
“So you’re saying I should give him a chance, huh?” she asked, and reached over to the small table between them for the other half of her sandwich, but instead of bread and meat, she encountered something fuzzy.
The scream was out of her mouth before she could even open her eyes and jump out of her chair, adrenaline pumping through her veins like a runaway train. In the next inhale, her feet were on the ground, her eyes open, and she spotted Alfred stuffing as much of her sandwich into his mouth while staring at her like she was the one invading his space. And this was why city people shouldn’t leave their home environment. Nature was a beast. Her exhale started out as another holler, but before she could gain steam, Tyler scooped her up into his arms and marched her into the house, all the while laughing his stupid head off. After using his foot to slide the door closed behind them, he set her down on the island but kept his strong hands on her hips and stood between her legs.
“It’s not nice to laugh at people,” she said, needing to say something—anything—because the need for fight or flight was quickly morphing into an F need of a different kind.
“I can’t help it,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then the pulse point going crazy in her neck, then dropping down to the fast rise and fall of her chest before coming back up to her eyes. “The ferocious Ms. 3B is afraid of a raccoon.”
“They can be vicious,” she said, anticipation making her mouth move faster than her brain. “Anyway, it’s not like there aren’t things that scare you.”
“Ne
edles.” It was just one word, but it came out low and husky.
“So no tats, huh? I thought they were required of anyone who rode a Harley.” If only she’d gotten him naked in the garage, she wouldn’t have to ask.
He shook his head, his desire-darkened gaze locked on her. “Not one.”
“So you’ve never been tempted to have a woman’s name written above your heart?” Ramble? Her? Oh yeah.
“That would be a big negative for a lot of reasons.”
“I promise to keep your secret, if you keep mine.” She made an X with her finger over her heart.
His gaze dropped to where her finger touched the upper swell of her breast. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, and there was no way he could miss seeing her hard nipples pressed against the soft cotton of her dress, especially since she’d skipped her bra along with her panties. She didn’t need Freud to understand what that meant.
His grip tightened on her hips and he jerked her closer, bringing her flush against his hardness and holding her there. “Now that’s a deal.”
The contact was like flipping a switch, and her body was suddenly on. Her breasts grew heavy, her lungs tightened, her lips ached to make contact. Desire, hot and needy, slid through her, making her core clench, and she unconsciously arched against him, needing the friction to ease the ache already beginning to build. His tortured groan only emboldened her, and she did it again, this time on purpose, loving how he felt against her and the way lust darkened his blue eyes and made his jaw tight. He was holding back. The urge to make him let go guided her fingers to the waistband of his board shorts where she let them linger, torturing both of them.
“You better not tell anyone I’m scared of raccoons.” The words spilled out of her mouth because her brain had shut down. There was too much going on in her body right now for actual thinking.
“Talking to other people about raccoons is not what’s on my mind right now.” His palms slid down the outside of her thighs to the edge of her dress, and he started pushing it up, not stopping until everything was exposed from her ankles to her upper thighs.
“Oh yeah?” There was a hopeful breathiness to her voice, one she normally wouldn’t let anyone hear, but she was too turned on to care. “What is?”
“How you’re going to look bent over this island with your dress pulled up to your waist while I slide my cock into your wet pussy.” His hands glided under her scrunched-up skirt, thumb so close to where she needed him to touch that she could feel the heat from him, but he stopped short. “And it is wet for me, isn’t it?”
The yes nearly popped out of her mouth before she managed to seal her lips shut. She shouldn’t. Together she and Tyler were nothing but trouble. Still…she was alone on a tropical island paradise with a devastatingly hot man who knew just how to use his mouth, hands, and that glorious cock of his. Maybe just this once…
“Why don’t you find out for yourself how wet it is?”
Something sparked in his blue eyes, an acknowledgment of the challenge of the fight between them. It might be friendly but it was still there, that push and pull of want and need and knowing that it was the last thing either of them should give in to. They were oil and water together, but it didn’t matter because they were both burning right now.
“Because you’re gonna show me,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and his accent coming on as if he couldn’t control that and his body at the same time.
“And what are you gonna show me?” She dipped her fingertips into the waistband of his board shorts, pushing them down far enough that the backs of her fingers brushed the tight curls above his cock but, like him, she avoided brushing the good stuff—and there was lots of long, hard, good stuff straining for her touch.
“Whatever you wanna see.” His hands stayed put on her inner thighs but his mouth got busy, trailing a line of hot kisses down her neck.
“Strip.” Because that’s what she’d missed out on last time, and if this was going to happen again—and get real, it was—she wasn’t going to miss out on seeing him naked twice. The kiss-nip-kiss pattern halted, and she could actually feel him smile against her skin. Cocky bastard. “Now.”
He withdrew his hands from her legs, leaving her wet and wanting, and took a half step back. The protective inch of air between them should have been a relief, but it only served to emphasize how badly she wanted this man. He reached back and grabbed the neck of his T-shirt behind his head and yanked it over, letting it fall to the floor. Her breath caught but her gaze kept moving, going from his broad shoulders, to his muscular chest, to the smattering of black hair that started right below his belly button and disappeared beneath his shorts. She wanted to hop down and trace that happy trail with her fingers and tongue until she got to the prize at the end. She wanted to lick and nip and kiss her way around his sinewy chest. She wanted to make him hers.
As if reading her mind, he stepped closer, bringing them back so they fit together perfectly even if there were way too many clothes still in the way. “Wait, there’s something I gotta do first.” His hands cupped her face and his mouth crashed down onto hers in a kiss that wasn’t about satisfaction for either of them but desperation on both their parts.
His hands moved from her face to her breasts, cupping them through the cotton of her dress. It wasn’t enough. It never was with him, though, because she always wanted more. What could she say? When it was this good, she got greedy. Tyler broke the kiss, and his mouth followed the path his hand had taken. He lifted up her breast, his thumb circling her nipple over the dress until it formed a hard peak and then he sucked it into his mouth, letting his teeth graze the sensitive spot all the while his talented fingers worked her other breast. When he switched from one to the other, leaving the wet material clinging to her pebbled nipple, the shock of his warm mouth on one and the quickly cooling damp sensation of the other had her reaching for him, needing to anchor herself to him as he tormented her in the most delicious of ways.
“Yes,” she managed to get out in a moan as she threaded her fingers through his thick hair.
Pain in the ass that he was, he pulled away. “You like that, huh?”
“God, yes.” And she’d like more.
“What else do you like?” His hands dropped to her bare thighs and he shoved her skirt up to her waist, leaving her exposed to his hot gaze. Then he spread her thighs wide as she sat on the island, watching as if the image of her like this was the best thing he’d ever seen.
She expected more teasing, more talk. Instead he jerked her ass so it was barely on the island at the same time as he lowered himself down so he was on the same level as her wet folds. When he lowered his mouth, licking and sucking her intimately, it was all she could do not to fall off the side of the world. She was so turned on, so ready for him that even the softest lash of his tongue had her on edge. When he sucked her clit into his mouth while working her entrance with his fingers, she just gave in and let herself tumble over into space.
“Fuck, I love how you hold tight to my fingers.” He curled them inside her, rubbing the bundle of nerves there in a soft-soft-hard pattern that had her panting. “I can’t wait to taste you when you come, and then I’m going to do what I promised and fuck you over this island.”
Then he went back to tonguing her, sucking her, finger fucking her until she was right on the edge of the abyss. It was blissful torture that she couldn’t get enough of as the vibrations built inside her, turning her entire body electric. So close. So fucking close.
“Don’t stop,” she cried as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back just enough to change the angle the slightest bit and everything went white for half a second before her orgasm hit, exploding her world into neon.
…
Watching Everly come down from that high was as amazing as it was agonizing, because as sweet as it was to see her shatter, Tyler was desperate to bury himself inside her and feel her come again right before he went over the edge himself. By the time her breath
had steadied, his board shorts were on the ground and he was rolling on the condom he’d grabbed from his wallet.
“I might never move again,” Everly said, her voice husky.
She still wasn’t naked, and he wanted that. Needed it. Having her mostly naked in the parking garage had been one of the hottest things he’d ever seen in his life, but he wanted to see and touch every inch of her. The plan had been to just flip up her skirt—there was just something sexy about Everly in disarray that turned him on—but that wasn’t gonna happen. He picked her up off the island and lifted the dress over her head, leaving her naked and proud before him.
“You like what you see?” she asked, but she wasn’t fishing for compliments. She knew he did. She just wanted to push him. They both knew it.
He traced a finger over the upper swell of her tits, entranced by the way her nipples tightened into hard pebbles without his even touching them. “You bet I do.”
“Good, because I like what I see.” She stepped out of his reach and circled him, making a tsk-tsk sound when he started to turn to face her. “Oh no. I missed out on this before; I want to see the entire package.”
On the next breath, her lips were on him. His back. His shoulders. Part of his neck that he’d never given two thoughts to before. Then, when his dick was in a mixed state of misery at not being touched and ecstasy because of the anticipation, she brought her body flush against his back, reached around, and encircled his dick with her hand. With one hand stroking his cock and the other roaming his body, touching and teasing him, he was skating on the brink and there was no way he was coming without being deep inside her.
“Enough.” It came out more as a growl than a word, but she got his message.
And when he whirled around and spun her so they traded places and she stood between him and the island, she looked at him with lust-filled eyes and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You know what I want,” he said.