Barefoot Bay: When You Touch Me (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Marilyn Baxter

  “No problem, man. You’re just doing your job. I’m fine, really. Just cooling down. This humidity is a monster,” Sam said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Security, huh? That sounds like a nice gig. I’m in…well, I was in the Army in IT and network security.”

  “That’s a great field to be in today,” Luke said, rising to stand.

  “I sure hope so. I was medically retired, but I’m not ready for the old folks’ home quite yet. Maybe I can find a gig like yours back home.”

  “Where’s home?” Luke asked

  “North Carolina. In the mountains. But really, I’ll go anywhere. Hell, the Army sent me all over the world, so I’m used to living out of a duffel.”

  “Tell me about it,” Luke said with a wry laugh. “I did a bit of that myself.”

  Sam stood and stretched. “McBain, you said? If I see your boss I’ll tell him what a great job you’re doing.”

  Luke cleared his throat. “Actually, I am the boss. McBain Security. And I’m hoping to expand my business from the island to the mainland. If you’re serious about looking for a job, come by my office and let’s talk.” He turned to walk away, then chuckled. “That is, if the monster humidity isn’t too much for you,” he called over his shoulder.

  Work here? He flicked at the sand with one finger. In this stuff?

  Sam grinned when he realized the other possibility.

  With Jillian.

  Chapter Eight

  Against her better judgement, Jillian had let Aunt Daffy check her aura on Sunday. When she left the shop, she had a crystal for her bedroom window to cleanse energy before it entered her room.

  “Soak up to your neck in the ocean, too,” Daphne had advised. “Sea salt purifies the aura. And spend more time with nature. It’s the ultimate aura cleanser. Maybe meditate on the beach.”

  Jillian had tried to meditate on the beach. With Sam. That went really well, she thought sarcastically. Why did the man have to be so…so…complicated? So difficult? So damned appealing?

  What had begun as a plum assignment had turned into a bowl of rotten fruit. He seemed to know how to push every one of her buttons, and damn it, she had allowed him to do it. If this didn’t stop, and stop immediately, she could easily lose her license and, consequently, her job at Casa Blanca. Without a license, she couldn’t work anywhere. Then she would really be in a tight spot.

  Also against her better judgement, she had let Sam persuade her to do the morning’s aquatic massage in the pool at his villa. Their earlier session in the resort pool had not achieved the results she had desired. Sam had been unable to relax, and by the end of thirty minutes, his muscles were strung tighter than a Stradivarius. The upper end of the resort beach would have been a better location for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was its proximity to the resort. Sam couldn’t try any funny business out on the beach, could he? She was learning all too quickly to never underestimate what the man might attempt. But he had vetoed the idea with his usual argument about sand. Only he’d prefaced the word with two expletives.

  She stepped through the wrought iron gate at Artemisia at nine o’clock sharp, fully expecting to be kept waiting by the ever-tardy Mr. Hartman. Surprisingly, he answered her knock almost immediately. He wore red swim trunks that drew her eyes to his narrow waist like a red cape attracted a bull.

  “Like what you see?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smart-ass grin.

  She was so busted. She lifted her chin, took a deep breath and directed her gaze to his crystal blue eyes. She held eye contact until she could hold her breath no longer and her lungs felt as if they would burst. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh. “Jackass,” she muttered under her breath.

  Sam placed his fingers against her lips. “Careful. Miss Swear Jar is here with the extra pool towels you requested. I’ve already contributed a couple dollars this morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that woman had bionic ears.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Jillian’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ll just think dirty and unless she’s a mind reader…. Oh sh…sugar.” Sam didn’t need to think she had anything on her mind but business.

  “Nice catch.” He laughed, and his blue eyes sparkled and crinkled at the outer edges. Her heart did a little flip, and she wondered if she might be able to persuade the housekeeper to stay at the villa during their session. Sam needed a chaperone. Or a trainer who would use a whip and chair to keep him in line. How could one man exasperate her to her limits one minute and intrigue her the next?

  “Come on in,” he said and swung the door open wider. “Do you need to change? You can use the bedroom. Or the bathroom. You’re safe since Poppy is here.” The twinkle in his eyes made her revisit the thought about asking Poppy to stay.

  “I only need to take off my cover-up.” Jillian had worn a tankini with a purple and turquoise striped top and black bottoms along with a turquoise knee-length cotton cover-up. She had piled her hair up in a messy bun instead of her usual braid. She had made sure the swimsuit passed approval from Jocelyn and didn’t reveal too much flesh. “I can do that by the pool. Why don’t you go ahead and get in? I’ll leave my things in here and join you in a minute.”

  She was stalling and she knew it. In nine years of working in a spa environment, she had never let a client affect her so much. Were it not for the money she was making from this special assignment, she would ask Jocelyn to transfer him to one of the other therapists. Did that make her a bad person? To be so focused on money? To let her emotions get so out of control?

  She heard Sam speak to Poppy as he exited the villa on his way to the pool deck. Dropping her tote on the sofa, she unbuttoned the cover-up and began to remove it. No, she’d wear it as long as possible. On the other hand, she didn’t want to do a pseudo striptease by the pool.

  “It’s a cryin’ shame about that man.”

  Jillian had been so deep in her silly thoughts she hadn’t heard Poppy enter the living room.

  “I overheard him talking to his mama when I brought the towels. He kept telling her over and over that your massages were helping and that he was going to be okay. No matter how old they are, a mama never stops worrying about her child.”

  And neither did an aunt. Jillian had heard the story of how Poppy used the money she collected in her swear jar to bring her nephews from Jamaica to Mimosa Key. And even though her own family was safely here, she continued to send money to the orphanage to help others.

  “He’s fine, Poppy,” Jillian said to reassure the woman.

  “Oh child, you and I both know he’s finer than frog hair split three ways. He’s way better than fine, and if I was a little younger I might be swooning over him like all the other women around here. But I don’t want nobody thinking Poppy Washington is a cougar, you know.” She laughed heartily and her whole body shook.

  “Well, I’m not swooning.” Jillian stood ramrod straight.

  “Ah, right,” Poppy said, stretching out the last word.

  Jillian didn’t like the woman’s tone. Did she suspect something? Know something? Did she really have bionic ears? She hoped the villa’s dim lighting hid the flush creeping up her neck.

  “I’d better go get my hands on him,” Jillian said and pointed to the pool.

  “You do that, Miz Jillian.” Poppy winked. “You get right out there and do that.”

  “Massage. Therapeutic massage. That’s all.”

  “Uh huh,” Poppy said just before she closed the front door behind her.

  “Are you coming?” she heard Sam call from the pool. “The water’s great.”

  Jillian slipped off her cover-up and flip-flops and braced herself mentally before heading to the pool. She stepped out just in time to see Sam execute a perfect flip turn and glide underwater across half the length of the pool. He rose to the surface and shook his head, flinging water droplets in every direction.

  She walked to the shallow end and down the steps into the water. The water temperature
was cool enough to be refreshing but not too cold to make his muscles contract.

  “Nice suit,” Sam said. She tried not to react as his gaze swept from head to toe with a pause at one particular location.

  She ignored the blatant flirting. “Get that pool noodle and bring it here to the shallow end.”

  Sam swam toward her, dragging the noodle beside him. “Can’t we swim a little for fun before we start working?” He moved closer and splashed water in her direction.

  “I’m not being paid for fun, Sam. You can swim for fun after we finish this session.”

  “But it won’t be fun if I’m alone.” He sounded like a petulant child. Moving even closer, he touched the hem of her tankini top as it floated in the water.

  She stepped back and cleared her throat. “I want you to float on your back with the noodle under your legs.”

  Sam rolled over, slid the noodle under his legs and held his arms out to his side. Jillian waited for him to stabilize, then waded to him and cradled his head and neck in her hands. “Breath like you do on the table. Deep breaths.”

  “You’re not going to shove me under while I’m inhaling as payback for…well…you know.”

  She hadn’t thought of that, but wouldn’t that headline look great?

  Casa Blanca Employee Says Play It Dead Sam.

  Charity Grambling and all her gossip buddies at the Super Min would have a field day with that.

  “Oh please. I’m a professional—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. A professional massage therapist. So start massaging.” His tone had turned from playful to annoyed. And that was just fine with her. She could deal with his displeasure far better than his advances.

  For the next hour she worked his neck and shoulders, plying the muscles with long, firm strokes. The weightless effect of the water helped minimize discomfort to his joints.

  “I think you deserve a break now,” she said as she lifted his head from the water and let his feet sink to the pool bottom. “Go. Swim.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Have some fun before we start again.”

  Truth be told, Jillian needed a break, too.

  Swim? Now? Sam edged toward Jillian with one thought on his mind. He wanted to have fun all right, but not doing cannonballs from the pool deck or playing Marco Polo.

  The past hour had been a mixture of heaven and hell. Floating weightless in the pool, he had let his mind go blank and for the first time in too long, his thoughts didn’t immediately zero in on the bombing.

  Instead he concentrated on the water gently lapping over him as Jillian’s movements in the pool created ripples. With each inhalation, tension left his shoulders and back as she expertly manipulated the muscles and worked out more knots and helped loosen the scar tissue on his back. With each exhalation, he relaxed further into her grasp. A grasp that was far more than physical.

  Sam had been attracted to Jillian from the moment he had first seen her on the beach a week ago. That first attraction had been purely physical, and for the most part still was. But he had seen a vulnerability in her. For all her “I’m a professional” bravado, something lurked underneath that attracted him on an emotional level. She had been responsive to him, too, on the beach. And there had been no mistaking the look on her face when he had answered the door earlier.

  “And what torture do you have planned for the rest of the morning, oh great mistress of the dark?”

  She made a face. “Very funny, oh great whiny pants. We’ll do some stretches for your shoulder. And maybe we’ll go to the beach and I’ll work some more on the scarring with salt water. It’s really much more effective than chlorinated pool water.”

  Sam moved even closer to her, which made her back up – right into the corner of the pool, precisely where he wanted her. “I can take these whiny pants off if you like,” he offered. “And have I told you how that suit really compliments your eyes? And how I like your hair piled up like that instead of braided. It’s….” Sexy. Drives me wild. Makes me want to do you right here. He reached out and slid his finger under the strap of the tankini top. “It’s prettier.”

  She grasped his hand and pulled it away from her shoulder. “Any one of the staff could show up at any time,” she warned him. “Don’t get either of us in trouble.”

  “You and I both know the staff isn’t permitted to enter a villa while the guest is present unless they’re invited in. I haven’t invited any of the staff to visit.”

  “Poppy could stop by with more towels.” Her voice rose as a note of desperation crept in.

  “She left enough towels to last me until I leave.” He reached for her shoulder again and this time pushed the strap off so it dangled against her upper arm. “No one is going to disturb us.”

  Sam closed the gap between them and lowered his mouth to hers. He nibbled at her full bottom lip before moving to her neck and kissing his way to her earlobe. She let out a sigh and her eyelids fluttered shut.

  Sam kissed his way across her shoulder before pushing the other strap out of the way. His fingers traced along the rounded neckline of the wet bathing suit top, then dipped his index finger into her cleavage and pulled the top down to her waist, baring her to him. Jillian crossed her arms over her chest, and Sam eased them out of the way before cupping her breasts in his large hands.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered as his index finger drew a line upward from her navel up to one rosy nipple, which immediately puckered into a stiff peak. “Is this the line, Jillian?”

  She opened her mouth to respond but said nothing.

  “My goodness, I do believe it is.”

  He lifted her breast toward him and drew the nipple into his mouth, sucking and eliciting a deep moan from her. She arched against him and his erection throbbed against her, straining the red swim trunks to the limits of the fabric. When she reached beneath the water and palmed his aching cock, his breath caught in his throat and he feared the tight swim trunks might cause permanent damage to his reproductive organs.

  He released his hold on her and hooked his thumbs in his waistband. The wet fabric clung stubbornly to his skin and the temptation to simply rip the fabric was strong. Eventually the fabric released its grip and he pushed the suit down and awkwardly kicked it off. When it floated to the surface, he tossed it to the pool deck where it landed with a soggy thud.

  “You are overdressed,” he said, tugging at her swimsuit bottoms.

  Jillian crossed her arms over her chest again and shook her head. “Please? Can we go inside?” Her gaze darted around the pool area. “The privacy fence might block someone’s view, but they could hear.”

  Sam scooped her up and carried her up the pool steps, his cock at full attention. He grabbed towels as he walked to the French doors, and once inside, he pulled off her suit and towel dried them both. Then he pulled her hair loose so it flowed about her shoulders.

  “I’ve wanted to undo your hair for so long,” he said as he pulled her close. He buried his nose in the mass of dark wavy hair and inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo. His cock twitched against her belly, and he considered taking her right there against the wall.

  He reconsidered though because he knew she deserved better than a rutting hound dog who put his own pleasure before hers. He lifted her into his arms again, raced through the villa to the bedroom and let her drop to the bed with a bounce. After retrieving a condom from the nightstand, he crawled onto the bed beside her.

  “You planned this?” she asked, gesturing toward the foil packet in his hand.

  “Sweetheart, I always play safe. I’m prepared regardless of whether I need it or not. And did I not tell you that first day that I wanted to get laid?” Sam reached between her legs and felt the dampness gathered there. “And it appears that you want to as well.”

  “I…don’t…can’t…please….”

  Sam puffed out his cheeks and then released the breath. Was that a yes? A no? He would never force a woman. He might try to convince her with his mouth and fingers, but he
would stop if she told him to no matter how difficult that might be.

  He gave her a quizzical look and decided to play it safe. He rolled over and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Where are you going?” She held one hand out toward him.

  He tunneled his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Damn it, woman. You are the most confusing female I’ve ever met. You say you won’t, you can’t, then—”

  “And right now I’m saying yes.”

  He wasted no time ripping the packet with his teeth, and he sheathed himself before she could change her mind. He nudged her knees apart, lowered his head and gave her the most intimate of kisses. She arched and bowed with a long, guttural moan. Sam continued, tasting her, flicking her with his tongue until she tensed. Her flesh pulsed and her moan increased in volume until an orgasm tore through her body and she quivered beneath him.

  “I want you inside me,” she begged. “Now.”

  Sam obeyed, positioned the tip of his erection against her slick sex and began the long, slow slide into her sweetness. Her dark hair fanned across his pillow. Her eyes were closed, her jaws clenched.

  “Am I hurting you, sweetheart?” He rocked backwards and withdrew a little.

  “Only if you stop,” she said, grabbing his hips and pulling him further inside her.

  She was tight, wet, tense. “Breathe, baby. Like you tell me to do.”

  Following his advice, she drew in a long, shuddering breath and exhaled on a satisfied sigh. Her body relaxed beneath him, and desire flashed through her like a meteor racing across the sky. With a final push he filled her completely.

  He paused and as she adjusted to the fullness, he nibbled at one nipple until it tightened in his mouth, then switched to the other. When she wriggled impatiently beneath him, he pulled back and began a steady rhythm in and out of her. Hooking one leg around him, she pulled him closer. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and she swore she could hear his heart pounding in his chest.