by Cathryn Cade
“Aloha.” Claire rose, and walked along the lanai, her mind whirling. Had Daniel’s mother just hinted that she should hurry over to Daniel’s place? Weird. It was as if Tina and Grace had put their heads together or something. Oh, well, she’d follow instructions…not that it would do her any good. But at least she’d get to see his place.
Chapter Thirteen
The path to Daniel’s cove was shadowed and damp, the trees above moving gently in the warm wind, their leaves patterning the smooth pebbles underfoot with lacy shadows. Claire wandered along, enjoying the luxuriant plants spilling over the ground and the twittering of birds calling overhead.
She heard a long, growing rumble of thunder and peered through the trees at the gathering clouds with surprise. She wouldn’t have thought they were storm clouds. The thunder faded, and she continued along the path, climbing over the low stone fence and along to the little bay with its small patch of sand. She gazed around, charmed. It was a tiny, private slice of paradise.
She paused at the edge of the clearing and gazed at the house before her. It was strangely beautiful, unadorned except for the door. Whoever had designed it had made it seem a natural extension of the tangle of woods and little bay.
The clearing and the little beach were quiet. Curiosity winning, she wandered around the side of the house on the broad lanai. A driveway curved up into the trees from a flat parking area, with a garage sitting at right angles to the house. The forest pushed close, vines flowering around the buildings. She could see Daniel’s silver pickup through a small window.
Tears threatened in an ache behind her eyes. She was leaving in just a few days, he wasn’t around, and she’d never see him again. Just her luck to end up falling for a reclusive asshole.
She’d leave the package. Then she’d walk away this time, and he could kiss her ass good-bye.
Returning to the front of Daniel’s house, Claire set the package on a small carved wooden table. Then she paused, temptation beckoning again. She really wanted a look inside. Maybe there were more of those carvings. She stood on the quiet lanai, running her tongue over her lower lip and regarding the big front door. Wondering if it was unlocked.
Slowly, feeling a rush of guilt and glee, she reached out and grasped the handle. Pushed. It gave, and the door opened silently on well-oiled hinges. Eyes wide, she peered inside the shadowed interior.
“Looking for something?” a deep, rough voice said behind her.
With a shriek, Claire jumped and then whirled, stumbling back against the doorframe, her heart thundering in her chest. She slapped a hand over it. Daniel stood on the end of the lanai. He wore a pair of swim shorts riding low on his hips, and a bemused scowl.
“Whatchu doing over here?” he asked.
“Oh, Jesus, you scared me,” she said breathlessly. Guilt flooded her, and she felt her cheeks burn under his steady gaze. He had caught her snooping—or about to.
Then, like a lifeline, she remembered the package. “Um…I brought this. Your mother said to give it to you.” She picked up the package and held it out to him. “So, here.”
“Oh, did she?” He made no move to reach for it, instead looked her up and down, his gaze searing a path over the skin she’d left bare, and the parts that were covered as well. Her nipples peaked under the thin fabric, and she locked her knees as they tried to melt. Damn! “Dressed like that?”
She straightened, frowning as she looked down at herself. Well, so she was wearing the crocheted bikini and the little flowered sarong. This was Hawaii. And, she hadn’t known he’d be home, had she?
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” she demanded.
“Nothing, except you look like a great big pūpū,” he drawled, hooking his thumbs in his waistband.
She blinked. She’d known he was rude and crass and antisocial, but this was beyond anything. Rage boiled up so hot she was surprised her hair didn’t smoke. How dare he! Big, conceited bag of muscle.
“Did you just say I look like a big pile of shit?” she demanded, her voice rising and cracking.
His mouth opened and then closed. He stared at her. Slowly, his face split in a huge grin, his teeth flashing white, his cheeks creasing so that his eyes narrowed to twinkling, onyx crescents. A strange sound rumbled in his chest and burst from his mouth. His broad chest shook.
“A pile of…” he got out; then he threw his head back and bellowed.
He was laughing at her! Laughing so hard he could hardly stand. He bent at the waist, guffaws of laughter shaking him, slapping one hand on his knee.
Her face burning, Claire drew back her arm and threw the little package at him. It bounced off his shoulder. He hardly seemed to notice it, still chortling. She grabbed a big shell from a table and threw it too, with such force that she nearly overbalanced and fell. It missed, sailing past his ear to land harmlessly in the shrubbery. Damn, just like her dream.
She tossed her hair out of her face, fighting sudden, hot tears. Fine. So maybe she had hoped he’d be home. And maybe she’d put on her crocheted bikini just in case. Maybe she’d thought after their talk last night he really wanted her.
She’d take herself and her sexy outfit back to the guesthouse and grab Jack or Zane—or maybe both of them. Turning on her heel, she strode across the lanai toward the path, her sarong slapping her legs.
“C-Claire.” He called behind her, his voice still rough. “Wahine, come back. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t say—what you think.”
She stopped at the edge of the lanai, but she refused to turn around. She stood glaring at the forest, her arms crossed under her breasts. This better be damn good.
He spoke again, closer now. “I said,” he went on, his voice a caressing rumble, “that you look like a great big hors d’oeuvre. Hawaiian style. It’s spelled p-u-p-u. Not p-o-o.”
His breath gusted her hair on the last words, and then his hands settled on her shoulders, huge and hot and calloused. Her heart pounding, her mouth suddenly dry, she turned in his grasp like a puppet. Looked up into his hard, dark face. Blinked at what she saw. His mouth was still twitching, but his eyes held heat—deep, burning heat. The kind she’d been waiting to see—thought she’d never get to see.
“Your little outfit turns me on,” he said. “I’d like to eat you up. Just like a pūpū. Got it?”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “Th-thanks for clearing that up.” Oh, God, she was going to dissolve into a puddle at his feet. Her insides were melting, and he’d barely even touched her.
He bent his head, leaning in, inhaling as if he were sniffing her perfume, leaving her breathless with shock. He was doing it again, bewildering her with his open sexuality.
“Does that turn you on, when I talk dirty?” he murmured.
All he had to do was breathe. But she’d rather eat poo-poo than admit it. “Maybe. What else you got?”
His eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hands, reaching around her to plant them on the post behind her, enclosing her in the circle of his mighty arms and chest. She could feel his warmth, as well as a deep prickling—as if he had some kind of force field around him, a current running between them. And she could smell him—that scent of the sea mixed with the hot, musky scent of healthy male. Her knees went weak.
“I’ll show you what I got,” he rumbled. “And then I’m gonna give you one and only one chance to run, wahine. And you better take it, or I’ll have you, every way I can think of. Because I’m done fighting this.”
Then he kissed her. Fast and hard, like he had before.
He nudged her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. The pressure of his kiss increased until he had her back against the pole, and he was devouring her like a starving man, his tongue tangling with hers, their teeth banging. She hardly noticed that—oh, he tasted even better than she remembered. She wanted to kiss him for days.
His huge arms were shaking, as if he were fighting the urge to grab her. As if she wanted a chance to get away. She slapped her hands on his chest, hot and smooth under
his tattoos, and ran them down over his abdomen, ridged and powerful, to his narrow waist. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on, digging her fingers into his back, into the hard cushion of muscle under his smooth skin. Her breasts flattened against his chest, she arched her hips, trying to get closer. Closer, hell. She wanted inside him.
He groaned, deep in his chest. Ripping his mouth from hers, he took a deep, shuddering breath and glared fiercely into her eyes.
“This. Is. Your. Last. Chance,” he grated through clenched teeth, his breath gusting damply on her face. “I’m not—holding you.”
“Does it feel like I want to get away?” she demanded breathlessly. “I won’t break, Ho’omalu.”
“Awright den.” His arms closed around her, and he kissed her again, hard, while he pulled her tight against him, and ground himself against her, his erection raking her pubis. Her legs parted weakly, her insides turning to liquid heat.
He turned, carried her a few steps and lifted her against the wall, hauling one of her legs up around his hips while his mouth continued to ravish hers. She moaned into his mouth, and he answered by pulling up her sarong, baring her mons, clad only in the string bikini.
Leaning back, he peered down at her, cupping her mons in his hand, stroking his thumb over the thin fabric that covered it. “Fuck, that’s pretty,” he said hoarsely. “I’m gonna have you with my mouth next time. But now, I gotta get inside you.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, tugging at his shorts.
He dealt with them, his face close to hers, grabbing a swift kiss. “You want it bad, don’t you?”
“I want you bad, you big dumb-ass! Hurry, damn you.” She yanked her bikini bottoms down, letting them fall to her feet, and stroked herself, moaning at the sweet relief.
“Ah, Kanaloa. That’s hot, yeah. Keep doing that.” He shoved his shorts down and bent his knees, his powerful thighs levering hers roughly so that she parted helplessly for him. She looked down. His erection rose quivering between them, a questing rod of suffused flesh, immense and dangerous. She could hardly wait. She’d known he was big—had felt how big he was—but seeing him was different.
“My God, you’re huge,” she whimpered, stroking her clitoris. She was so close, so close, but her pussy was empty, quaking with need. “Come inside me, Daniel. Now!”
He used his hand to stroke the broad head between the swollen, wet lips of her labia, and then he froze. “Are you on anything?”
“What? Yes—I’m on the pill.” She forced herself to focus on reality. “But—oh, hell! You have to wear a condom anyway.”
He stroked her again, rocketing temptation through her. “Why? I’m clean, I swear it.”
“You can’t know that,” she said indignantly. “You’ve been with another woman, and recently.”
With a growl deep in his throat, he shoved one hand into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small square package. She just had time to register that he’d been carrying a condom around out here as he ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it onto his cock.
Then he thrust. She cried out with shock at the impossibly tight fit, as delicate tissues were stretched to the burning point, with joy as he finally gave her what she’d needed so desperately since the moment she’d met him.
He froze—shaking, a huge, rough man with tattoos, his face a mask of desire. “You want me to stop?” he grated through clenched teeth.
“No!” she shrieked, digging her nails into him. “Ho’omalu, shut up and fuck me!”
With a deep, groaning laugh, he rammed into her again and again, driving himself up into her wet depths. She was spread wide open, riding him helplessly, caught between his impaling penis and the hot steel bands of his arms, his huge hand flattened on her back, holding her for his swift, piston-like thrusts. She was going to have bruises on her inner thighs and probably her back, and she didn’t care.
She was making sounds, high and sweet, floating on the quiet air until, with a muffled curse, he hushed her by covering her mouth with his, swallowing her cries.
Something wild and hot and free overtook her, a tide of suffocating excitement rolling up through her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she surrendered to it, to him, and climaxed with an implosion of intense pleasure that burst outward through her body.
He groaned and thrust even harder. Incredibly, she came again, a second, long, delicious orgasm as he rammed into her, slamming her with his hipbones, his mouth bruising hers, his cock filling her with raw power. The only important thing on the island, in the whole world, was him inside her, too hard, too big—perfect.
He came with a deep, rumbling shout that began in the depths of his chest and burst out of his throat. At the last second, he buried his face in the curve of her throat, his teeth raking her skin.
He arched in her arms, heat pulsing within her. Then he slowly relaxed, leaning into her, breathing hard, warm as a sun-kissed wave, his skin damp with sweat.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were heavy, his mouth soft and damp from her kisses, his high cheekbones stained red under the tattoos. He stared down at her, the only sound his breathing as his great chest worked against her breasts.
She tried to speak and couldn’t. His nostrils flared; one heavy brow lifted. “Well, you got what you came for, yeah?”
She closed her eyes. She should have known better than to expect sweet nothings. “Yeah, so you can put me down, moke.”
“Put you down?” Her heart, which had sunk at his question, rose again. “You think it’s over that fast? Oh, no, wahine. Hell, we’re just getting started.” Holding her against him, he reached out and pushed his front door open and carried her inside, her bikini bottoms still hanging off one of her ankles.
Leaving the door open behind him, he squatted and laid her on the soft, woven rug, coming down on top of her in a crouch, with her legs draped over his powerful thighs, still inside her. The soft light of the cloudy day limned him in silver, a tropical warrior statue come to life, male incarnate.
He lifted up enough to look down at her breasts, and at the expression in his hooded eyes, she shivered, her nipples standing up as hard as berries.
She was still full of him, dazed and delighted from two orgasms such as she’d never experienced before, raw from his possession, and yet he had the power to make her pussy contract with renewed desire.
He flicked her a gaze filled with masculine smugness. “I felt that. You like having your tits handled? Sucked and licked?”
“Yes.” She did, and the thought of his hands and mouth on her made her want to whimper.
“Good.” He grabbed the tie of her bikini top and pulled. The bow untied, but nothing happened. One of his heavy brows quirked upward, and she laughed breathlessly.
“You have to undo the fastener.” She didn’t want to let go of his broad, smooth shoulders to do it. She loved having her hands on him. His skin was damp satin, covering the massive swell of his muscles, working under his skin as he moved. She held raw power in her grasp, inside her pussy. She’d never felt so ravished, and she loved it.
He found the hidden clasp and flicked it open, then pushed back the scanty pieces of fabric. They fell into her armpits, leaving her breasts bared to him. As he looked down at her breasts, his cock twitched inside her and began to swell.
“I felt that,” she said. “You like my breasts?”
“Oh, yeah,” he growled. “Big and firm and soft, like your pretty ass. And white—no tan here. Makes you look more naked.”
He cupped them in his hands, squeezing and hefting them, his gaze flicking up to hers as he fondled her. Then he squeezed her nipples between his thumbs and the sides of his forefingers and rolled them roughly. It hurt a little, but more than that, it felt good. Claire whimpered, arching her back into his touch as pleasure shot through her.
“Harder,” she pleaded. “Harder, Daniel.”
He obliged and then bent his head to her, pulling one into his mouth and suckling her, his tongue working he
r nipple roughly. The hot, wet caress was so delicious she clasped his head in her hands, holding him to her breast as she arched her back. The movement worked his penis inside her, and she began to move under him, begging him with her body to have her again.
He moved his mouth to her other breast, using his hand on the wet nipple he’d already tasted, squeezing her, working her nipple with his palm. She writhed under him, lifting her legs to dig her heels into his back. “Oh,” she moaned. “Oh, Daniel. Fuck me, please. Do me again now.”
He refused, biting at her nipple and then suckling it until she took over, riding him until she began to come again, whimpering his name.
She went limp, her arms falling back on the carpet beside her head, her eyes closed.
“Wake up,” he said roughly, slapping her ass with his big, rough palm. “My turn.”
“You missed your turn,” she managed.
“Oh no. My terms, remember?” He pulled out of her and then woke her out of her haze of completion, flipping her over on the rug. Her eyes flew open as he spanked her ass again, the sound loud in the quiet air.
“Ow,” she protested, glaring at him over her shoulder. What she saw turned her protest to a sharp breath of excitement. A huge, naked man, his black braids falling over one shoulder, kneeling behind her, his cock jutting out at her, engorged and glistening. “Get up on your hands and knees,” he commanded, ripping open another condom. How many of them did he carry around, for Pete’s sake?
Feeling like a compliant female of long ago, she pushed up on her hands and knees, arching her back defiantly. The position thrust her ass at him, and he took swift advantage, kneeing her legs apart and moving between them. He pulled her back against him, his penis prodding between her wet, swollen labia. With one swift movement, he thrust home, deep inside her, clear to her throat, it seemed. His huge hands dug into her hips. She cried out in pain, shock and excitement.
“Wanted to do this to you since the first damn minute I saw you,” he told her as he held her there, open, helpless against his strength and intent, his hips slamming into her, slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust, the sound a loud counterpoint to the velvet rumble of his voice. “Wanted you just like this, with your pretty ass sticking out at me, inviting me to take you any way I want, anywhere I want. As hard and as often as I want.”