Pleasure Beach

by P. J. Mellor

  The woman was addictive, Derek thought while he carried her down the stairs. But the truth was he was wild for her. Again.

  He tossed the handful of condoms onto the floor by the sofa and made a mental note to buy more. Maybe a case. He looked down at her, sleeping soundly where he’d placed her on the sofa. His cock reacted to the sight. Make that two cases.

  How much of her time had Jack paid for initially? It had to be up by now. Well, whatever it cost to keep her here, with him, it was well worth it. What good was being filthy rich if you couldn’t buy simple pleasures? Great sex was definitely one of those pleasures.

  His yawn surprised him. Maybe he’d lie down for a few minutes. Holding Mac while she slept would be good, too.

  The big sofa easily accommodated both of them, especially with his playmate’s small stature. He pulled her close and snuggled down for a nap.

  A feeling of contentment washed over him. He felt happy…complete.

  McCall snuggled closer to the warmth, enjoying the feel of skin on skin.

  Skin on skin.

  Her eyes opened to the heated gaze of her flesh-and-blood fantasy lover and she smiled. “What a wonderful way to wake up.”

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he drawled.

  As their gazes locked, he lowered his head to take one plump nipple into his mouth. The effect of his suckling took her breath away and made her toes tingle and twitch.

  He reached behind him and then rolled back, several condoms in his hand. “We’re down to just these.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We need to restock.”

  “We do?” she said with a squeak.

  “Yep.” He nodded. “Darlin’, I’m gonna fuck your brains out. I need lots of protection.”

  He raised one of her legs onto the sofa back, leaving her exposed to his avid gaze.

  “I love your pussy,” he said in a husky voice, then licked her with slow, obvious intent. “It’s so pretty and pink and responsive.” He petted it and it, indeed, responded.

  A wave of heat washed over her, burning her face. Sweat popped out along her upper lip.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, getting up and walking backward toward the kitchen. She heard the refrigerator door open and ice rattle.

  Within seconds, he was back, crawling on the sofa toward her. He held up a piece of curved ice. “We need to cool you off a bit.”

  The feel of ice dragged over her nipples made them almost painfully erect. From there, he drew an outline around each breast, then down her stomach to her naval.

  He leaned down to sip the moisture from her belly button, then continued his trek.

  He sat up and dragged the ice down the inside of each thigh, causing her to jerk.

  “Shh,” he crooned, petting her thighs wider. “It’s okay. It’s just water. Do you remember what we did with water in the shower?”

  She could only nod, the flames of arousal licking at her as surely as her lover would lick the moisture of the ice from her.

  He grinned, looking unbearably sexy, then focused his attention between her legs.

  He pressed the tip of the ice cube to her nub. So hot, it immediately melted some of the ice. Cool rivulets trickled down her folds to pool at her behind.

  “We’re getting the couch wet,” she felt compelled to point out.

  He shook his head of gloriously mussed golden hair, a soft smile on his kissable lips. “Nope. You’re still lying on the towel.”

  Slowly the ice moved downward, slicking across, up and down each fold, driving her mad with lust. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second of the delicious torture, coldness invaded her portal.

  Her breath hitched. Her nipples tightened to painful peaks. Her eyes widened when she raised her head enough to watch him slide the now sliver of ice in and out of her, the thumb of his other hand lazily flicking back and forth over her engorged nub.

  “Oops,” he said and grinned up at her. “Slippery little devil seems to have fallen in. Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

  He lowered his mouth, his hot breath a wondrous contrast to the frozen ice. His tongue felt doubly hot when it speared into her and rotated.

  With a cry, she arched her hips off the sofa, clutching at the heated skin of his shoulders, while waves of rapture carried her away.

  His hands shook, she noted, when he ripped the condom open. Seconds later, he filled her. With her left leg still up on the back of the sofa, it gave an interesting angle of penetration while allowing him room to continue the wonderful movement of his thumb.

  Unbelievably, her second climax was stronger than the first. Must have been the years of abstinence.

  She brushed his hair from his forehead and placed a soft kiss to his temple. Tenderness clutched her heart.

  Then again, maybe it was the man.

  6

  Derek gathered the limp woman close and pulled her onto his lap, then nibbled her earlobe. Her unique scent wafted around him. He inhaled greedily, marveling at the effect she had on him.

  If he lived to be one hundred, he’d remember the way she smelled. The way she felt. The way she responded, along with about a million other things about her.

  Emotion he refused to acknowledge clutched his throat, tugged at his heart.

  He couldn’t keep her indefinitely. They both had other lives to lead. The thought of the life she led caused a red haze of jealousy to descend.

  His heart skipped a beat at a sudden thought. Why couldn’t he keep her? Hell, he had enough money to be her exclusive customer for the rest of their lives.

  What was he thinking? If the debacle with the fund-raiser from hell didn’t ruin his reputation, hiring a full-time hooker would. And what would that do to his parents?

  He toyed with her plump breast, smiling when the nipple responded. It was better to just enjoy her company while he was there, then forget about her when he rejoined the real world.

  Why did that thought make him want to clutch her to his heart and never let her go?

  McCall stretched within her lover’s arms and pulled down his frowning mouth for a kiss.

  “What’s wrong, Alex?”

  He looked down at her for a moment, then smiled. “Do you like to dance?”

  “I love it, but why would that make you frown?”

  “Do you like seafood?”

  She wondered if he realized how turned on she was getting as his hands absently caressed her breasts.

  “Yes,” she said in a strangled voice.

  “Great! I know a place not far from here that serves the best crab on the Gulf Coast. And they have a great band.”

  He obviously mistook her come-hither look for concern, which wasn’t all that surprising, now that she thought about it. It happened a lot. She wasn’t very good at flirting.

  “Don’t worry about what you wear. It’s casual.”

  “I’m not worried about what I’ll wear,” she assured him, reaching for the last condom, slightly shocked at her overtly sexual behavior. She ripped open the foil pouch with her teeth, careful to maintain all-important eye contact, and discreetly tongued the piece of foil from her teeth. “It’s what you’re not wearing that has me a little worried.”

  Thrilled to see he was “up” for it, she made quick work of sheathing him—first with the condom, then with her body.

  Wild woman rides again.

  Derek let himself back into Jack’s house and jogged up the steps to the master suite with his garment bag and nylon duffel slung over his shoulder.

  It was stupid to keep running back to his place for clean clothes. If he was going to stay with Mac, he may as well move in for the rest of the week.

  He tossed his gear into the walk-in closet. “Mac? I’m back. You about ready?”

  She walked out of the bathroom and his breath whooshed out of his lungs.

  The bright, multicolored print of the sundress would fit perfectly with the apparel of the other patrons in the restaurant. What there was of her dress, that is.

&
nbsp; He suspected it was really a top, since Mac was short and it still struck her above midthigh. The plunging neckline scooped so low, he was sure he detected the edge of her nipples. Before he could mention that fact, she turned and bent to put on her shoes.

  His heart skipped a beat, then raced at the amount of skin before him. The damned dress was practically backless; nothing but strings—crisscrossed from the flare of her hip to her shoulder blades—held it together.

  “Take it off,” he finally squeezed out.

  She whirled to gape at him. “What? What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to go out!”

  “I’ll order in.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s the problem, Alex?” She sauntered toward him. He backed up a step and shoved his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

  “Your dress,” he blurted. At her wide-eyed look, he continued. “It’s practically nonexistent! I’d spend the entire evening fighting off other men.” He shook his head. “I’d also be sweating bullets because I know exactly what’s under that sin-with-me dress. I’d be so hard, I wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite.”

  “Maybe we need to fix that little problem…before we go.” She sidled up to him and unbuckled his belt, then popped the button at his waist. The zipper echoed in the quiet of the room.

  His fists clenched tighter in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “We can’t,” he said in a strangled voice.

  “Sure we can.” She nudged his hands out of his pockets and smiled up at him while she dragged his pants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprang free, ready for action—which seemed to be its constant state since he’d met Mac.

  “It occurred to me, while I was showering all alone, that we need to explore some of our fantasies.” She stood and reached for the tie behind her neck. “This is one of mine.” She hesitated and he nodded his eager approval.

  Her dress fell to her waist.

  Like a Pavlovian dog, he began salivating. Breathing became difficult.

  She knelt before him, rubbing the engorged tip of his rock-hard cock over and around the smooth skin of her nipples, driving him insane with lust. Lust was the only reasonable explanation for his reactions to this particular woman.

  “I think there’s a name for this, but I can’t remember what.” She pushed her ample breasts together, sliding his cock in and out of her cleavage.

  “Tit fucking,” he supplied in a tight voice.

  “Do you like it?” she casually asked. Before he could answer, she was on her knees, flicking her tongue across the purple tip until he thought he’d scream before she took it into her hot mouth.

  He groaned. Obviously, coherent speech was not an option at that moment.

  She set the rhythm. Kiss, lick, suck, rub. He did okay with control until about the sixth or seventh go-around.

  Then he lost it.

  He wanted to rip the rest of her dress from her and plunge into the wet heat he knew lurked beneath, or at least lift her skirt and shove her panties aside, before he made his deposit.

  Instead, to his horror, he spilled his seed all over her gorgeous breasts. Before he could voice an apology, she laughed and guided his still throbbing cock through the slippery mess to stroke her nipples.

  Face flushed, she shimmied out of her dress to reveal her total lack of undergarments. Talk about fantasies.

  He stood, like a dummy, while she purred and rubbed her magnificently nude body up and down his, making them both slick.

  She was his every adolescent fantasy come to life.

  Still smiling, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bed. “I don’t care if we make a mess. I need you now!”

  She pushed him down on the bed then straddled his renewed erection to ride him hard.

  At their mutual completion, she collapsed across his chest, her soft panting tickling his arm, her scent enveloping him. Through a sensual haze, a thought niggled at the back of his mind. The thought emerged to hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.

  He loved her.

  7

  Mac sat up, still impaled, and stretched, then smiled down at him. His face felt tight when he attempted to smile back.

  “Want to share a shower?” Her smile faltered. “Alex? Why are you looking at me like that? Are you okay?”

  I may never be okay again. “Sure, let’s take a shower. But it has to be quick, okay? I’m starving.” He lifted her from him and walked into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

  Of all the stupid things to do. What kind of moron fell in love with a hooker? He glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the double sinks. Me.

  McCall adjusted the straps on her second sundress and looked in the mirror at Alex’s reflection. “Are you sure you want to go out?” she asked again. “It might be expensive. The freezer and refrigerator are both full. I’m sure we can find something here.”

  His gaze met hers in the mirror. “What? You think I can’t afford you?”

  Refusing to let him see how his sharp words cut her, she shook her head. “Of course not. I was just offering an alternative solution.”

  He walked up behind her and slid his hands up the sides of her legs until he reached the waistband of her thong, high beneath her skirt.

  “Leave these here,” he ordered, already dragging her panties down her legs.

  “Alex!” She made a halfhearted attempt at swatting his hands away, but then stepped out of her underwear. The tingle of excitement, always hovering near when she was around this man, sent a surge of moisture between her legs.

  He tucked the scrap of lingerie into his pocket with a satisfied smile. “It’s payback time for the shoes, babe.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Derek felt sleazy for forcing her to go out in public bottomless, but it also excited him beyond reason.

  “Don’t you know what they call those kinds of shoes?”

  She shook her head as she started down the stairs. He followed, keeping a safe distance from her potent charms but close enough to admire the gentle sway of her unclad bottom.

  She stopped at the couch and turned to him, hands on hips. “Well, are you going to tell me what these kinds of shoes are called?”

  He did a quick inventory to make sure this dress covered more than the last one, and grinned. “Fuck-me shoes.”

  Unable to resist, he ran his hand beneath her skirt and patted her dampness, then smoothed her skirt back down. “Remember that, Mac. Because that’s exactly what I plan to do. Over and over.” He leaned to place a chaste kiss on the surprised O of her mouth. “Later.”

  He turned her toward the door and tapped her bottom. “Right now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  She stopped at the base of the beach stairs.

  “Do you have a car?” she asked.

  He thought longingly of his Porsche, parked in his garage. He had to protect himself, if he ever expected to live past the weekend. He shook his head.

  “My service-engine light came on just as I pulled up,” she informed him. “I’m not sure my car will make a long drive.” She looked so adorable, chewing on the edge of her bottom lip, that he almost caved and threw himself at her feet, begging her to be his and end this charade.

  Almost.

  “Not a problem, Mac. The Purple Crab is just down the beach a ways. We can walk.” His feet sank into the sand. “Hand me your shoes.” He put them in his pocket, then took her hand and set off toward his favorite South Padre eatery.

  He refused to dwell on how right her small hand felt in his or how happy he felt just walking beside her.

  Over huge platters of steamed crab, they indulged in neutral conversation, laughing at silly jokes, making clandestine observations about the other patrons. Too soon, the lights dimmed and came back up, signaling last call.

  “Would you like another pitcher of margaritas?” Alex asked, signaling their waiter.

  McCall shook her head, feeling a definite buzz from the last two pitchers they’d shar
ed. “No, thanks, I’m ready to go.” Ready for him to follow through on his promise-threat. That thought brought on another full-body flush. She fanned herself with her napkin. “Whew! Is it hot in here to you?” She stumbled out of her chair and grabbed his arm for support. “I think I need some fresh air.”

  While her date paid their tab, she walked out onto the sand and removed her shoes. She’d love to strip naked and run along the beach with her fantasy lover, but even wild women had their limits. At least, this wild woman.

  “Are you thinking about your shoes?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, next to her ear.

  She frowned. Her lips were numb. “My shoes?”

  Instant recall came flooding back at the hot intensity she saw in his eyes. She laughed and skipped away from him down the beach. She must have done something right in her life to deserve a break from reality like this.

  He caught up with her within seconds, clasping her hand in his, and fell into step beside her.

  “What do you want to do now?” he asked, stopping and pulling her into his arms. His hands rubbed the silky fabric of her dress across her bare bottom.

  “I want to make love to you,” she answered truthfully, “right here on the beach.”

  His eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. He glanced all around. “Why don’t we wait until we’re closer to the house? It’s a private beach, so what we do in front of your beach house won’t have any witnesses.”

  “You don’t sound very enthusiastic for someone who was bragging, not three hours ago, about how many times we were going to do it.” She knew her voice was slurred.

  He dropped her hand and put both fists on his hips. “You’re drunk.”

  “Am not.” She swatted at a piece of hair that seemed to be super glued to her recently refreshed lip gloss.

  “Okay.” He shrugged. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “Here and now?”

  He nodded. “Here and now. Whatever you want, however you want it.” He gave a slight bow. “Your wish is my command.”