He turned toward her, his mouth tilted up and amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Nice, but a little ahead of yourself, don't you think?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she could salvage things, after all. “Blow job,” she said, trying to shock him.
“Ah. A personal favorite of mine.” He nodded. “But rather predictable.”
She uncrossed her arms and shifted closer toward him. She swayed slightly with the gentle vibrations of the car, and placed a hand on the dash to steady herself.
“Clitoris. Co-Cock.”
He laughed when she stuttered, but the laugh sounded slightly stilted, so she didn't take offense. “Again, some definite favorites. Keep going.”
She wondered if he'd turned on the heater, or if it was just her desire causing her to flush and feel all loose and tingly inside. “Climax. Coitus. Come.”
“Wow. Who knew there were so many dirty words that started with C?”
Despite his continued efforts to sound unaffected, she could tell she was getting to him. Sweat had popped out on his upper lip, and his fingers seemed to grip the steering wheel for dear life. His knuckles whitened as she continued.
“Copulate. Cream.”
“That's not a dirty word.”
“It is if you're licking it off someone's body.”
He scowled. “Done that often, have you?”
The idea that he might be jealous had her twisting the truth just a bit. She'd watched a movie recently where whipped cream had been a prominent prop. “Just once. But it definitely showed me what I've been missing.”
He didn't respond other than to take a deep breath.
“And now for my personal favorite.” Leaning forward, she brushed his ear with her lips and breathed her next word. “Cunnilingus.”
He hissed in a breath. When she reached out to put her hand on his thigh again, his hand whipped out, grabbing her wrist. “Don't,” he croaked out, his voice guttural.
“Or what?” she whispered.
“Or we're never going to make it into the water. And I for one can use some cooling down.” He stopped the car, and she looked around. They'd reached the lake.
“Darn. I was just getting started. But I guess you're right. Guys do like dirty talk.” She dropped her gaze to his erection, which was straining against the front of his shorts. “At least you do. You sure you don't want to hear the next one?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “It feels good, doesn't it?”
She drew back, and he slowly released her. “What?”
“Knowing you can get me hard just by talking to me. Knowing that just the sound of your voice pleases me.”
“It really does, doesn't it?” she asked, a feeling of wonder making her grin.
“Rein yourself in there, Ladybug. There's only so much a guy can take before he cracks.”
“What's your cracking point?” she pouted.
“That's for me to know and—”
“—me to find out.”
He winked, then threw open his car door. “Come on. I've worked up an appetite.” Grabbing the basket with the blanket, he walked to a shaded spot by the lake. She was still reeling with satisfaction while she unpacked their food. That feeling went out the window five minutes later when Rhys stripped off his shirt. Smooth, tanned skin, defined muscles, and a rippling six-pack nearly mesmerized her.
“What do you want first?” he asked, gesturing to the spread of crusty bread, Gouda cheese, grapes, and prosciutto.
“Uh…” She shook her head. “I'm not that hungry, actually.”
“I'll be quick.” He reached for a grape. Before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand over his, stopping him. She was breathing rapidly, her heart hammering in her ears, as she met his gaze. “It's my turn, right? To do what I think will please you?”
His green eyes darkened. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you…would you lean closer?”
Obediently, he did. She took hold of one plump grape, and lifted it. When he opened his mouth, she placed the grape on his tongue. He chewed the juicy fruit slowly, then swallowed. “Do you…do you want another one?”
“Please.”
She took another grape and fed it to him. This time, before he let her draw away, he sucked just her fingertips into his mouth. She inhaled swiftly. Bit by bit, she fed him. The grapes. The bread and cheese. By the time she wrapped a thin piece of prosciutto around her index finger and offered it to him, his breathing was as labored as hers. Taking a gentle hold of her wrist, he guided her finger into his mouth, easing the delicacy off her finger and then sucking the digit strongly.
She moaned. He moaned. After releasing her finger with a pop, he staggered to his feet.
“Rhys,” she whispered.
“You're one dangerous lady. I've got to get in the water or I'm going to be all over you.”
“So you liked me feeding you?”
“What do you think?”
She swallowed hard. “You liked it.”
“Yeah. That's an understatement.” And with that, he backed away from her, eyes locked with hers until the last possible moment, then he turned and cannonballed into the water, splashing her with a huge wave that made her yelp even as she laughed out loud.
* * *
“Come on in. The water's great.”
Melina stood uncertainly at the edge of the water as Rhys motioned her closer. She wanted close. Closer. She wanted it until her teeth ached. Her body was on fire, and she wasn't sure how much more teasing she could take. There was only one problem.
She was a coward.
She'd been too much of a coward to wear the bikini, and she was too much of a coward to strip down to her bra and panties. Not white, but a pale peach that was so sheer it left nothing to the imagination.
Maybe she squirmed at the thought, because now Rhys was staring at her oddly. She needed to get in that water and fast. What other choice did she have?
“I've already seen everything there is to see, remember?” he asked gently.
Not everything, she thought hysterically. He'd never seen her trying to be the femme fatale. He'd never seen her naked body in full sunlight, every ripple and extra pound of flesh visible. Last night had been different. Last night had been in the dark. Last night, she hadn't known it was him and she'd been buzzed. Why hadn't he brought any wine to go with that romantic picnic?
She jolted when she realized she'd spoken the question out loud.
“Because we're going to take full responsibility for what we're doing. No hiding behind misunderstandings, fuzzy vision, or inebriation. The next time I get between your legs, Melina, you're going to know full well who's there.”
“I-I—”
He cocked an eyebrow at her inability to form a comeback.
That made her mad again. Death by frustration, she vowed. He’d be well acquainted with the term before she was through with him.
Taking a deep breath and raising her chin defiantly, she pulled her tee over her head. She heard Rhys's sharp inhalation for breath immediately. Before she could change her mind, she shoved down her shorts, kicked them off, and prepared to dive into the water.
“Stop.”
She froze at the intense command in his voice that was accompanied by distinct splashing sounds. He was coming out of the water fast, his hand raised to echo his command. His gaze was riveted on her scantily clad body, the dark heat of it burning her in the best way possible.
He stopped a few feet away from her, water dripping from his hair and shoulders in sinuous streaks that she longed to lap up. All thoughts of teasing him into a frenzy vanished. She stumbled forward, wanting only to fall to her knees, drag his sodden suit down, and take him in her mouth. Instead, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I bought a bikini at Holiday Harbor, but I'm not the bikini type so I thought I'd just—”
He snorted and moved toward her until he was right in front of her. “You are so the bikini type, Melina.�
� Gently grasping her wrists, he uncrossed her arms and held them out wide. The sheer appreciation on his face made her thighs clench with need. “But I love your lingerie. God, your skin looks so soft. Like cream. And your breasts…” He groaned.
She glanced down at her chest, where her breasts were cupped and lifted by her demi-bra. Her curves were average in size, but her nipples were hard and visibly straining beneath the fabric. Dropping her wrists, he reached out, cupped her breasts in both hands, then pinched her nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently before releasing her.
“Rhys,” she whimpered as he dipped his head, suckling first one nipple and then the other. He sucked them hard, as if he wanted to swallow her whole, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, ready to offer her entire self to him. With a groan, he moved to kiss her cleavage, nipping at her skin in a way she knew would leave her bruised. Marked in the best way possible. But then he was backing away from her. Again.
No, no, no.
“The only thing that would be more beautiful than you like this is you like this and wet. Emphasis on the wet part.”
Before she could respond, he turned and jumped back in the water.
“You coming in?” His question sounded strangled. As if he'd had to force the words out.
Despite the frustrating ache that he'd caused to buzz through her body again, she smiled. The ache was so much better than the nerves had been. Plus, she was starting to see what Rhys meant about unpredictability and sex being fun even when you were just playing at it. Granted, he had more experience, but that just gave her more to work with.
With a quick movement, she dived in after him.
* * *
Under the relative safety of the water, Rhys cupped his straining dick through his swim shorts. Frantically, he tried to think of something, anything, that would give him a modicum of control as he watched Melina start a lazy crawl toward him. Unfortunately, even thinking of his favorite Seinfeld episode couldn't prompt the shrinkage that had caused George Costanza such embarrassment. He was primed and ready to go, especially after her creative alphabetizing and the feel of her fingers feeding him, her eyes transfixed on his mouth the whole time. Seeing her in her sheer bra and underwear had almost driven him over the edge. So what the hell was he waiting for?
When Melina squealed and giggled, then dived under the water to see what had brushed against her, he thought, This.
He was waiting for this. Hell, yes, he wanted to enjoy her body, but he wanted so much more than that. The opportunity to play with her. Learn about her. Enjoy her. Once this weekend was over, he'd lose that chance. Melina was letting her guard down because she had an excuse, but once that excuse was gone, the awkwardness and shyness and differences would be back on her radar. In fact, they'd probably be worse.
He'd be Rhys, Max's brother, again. But he'd also be the guy who'd seen her vulnerable and, once she was back in her real world, Melina would remember that.
He had to pack a lifetime of loving Melina in two short days.
When she came back up for air, she was grinning. “You should've warned me we had company.”
He shrugged. “You're a nature girl. Fish. Bugs. What's the difference?”
She sniffed. “Surely you jest. Insects are higher on the evolutionary chain than fish, you know.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He knew a few random facts about insects simply because Melina would occasionally throw them into conversation. He'd even done some independent research because learning more about bugs was one pathetic step closer to learning more about Melina. This, however, he'd never heard before.
She floated on her back, closing her eyes, a contented smile on her lips that made him think of the expression she'd worn when she'd said his name and fallen asleep in his arms. “Mmm. Hmm.”
He paddled closer, watching the water hover shallowly above her soft, rounded belly and lush thighs. “And what do you base that theory on?” he asked absently, unable to tear his gaze away from her belly button. He wanted to dip his tongue into it and then work his way downward. “Darwin or Genesis?”
She yawned. “Both, actually. But you don't want to hear about that.”
Silently, he caught her by the waist and swung her around to face him. With a startled shriek, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he urged her legs around his waist. Her eyes rounded as his hardness settled into the cradle of her thighs. Unable to help himself, he pressed her body closer to his and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Right now, I want to hear whatever you want to tell me.”
She leaned back and her mouth opened, but then she hesitated. They stared at one another, so close he could see the golden flecks in her warm eyes. Cream and syrup, he thought, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder. He lingered, kissed her other shoulder, nipped at it, then laved the small sting with his tongue. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Ladybug.”
She gasped, bit her lip, and blinked her eyes several times. Just as he leaned down to kiss her, she forced out a laugh, shook her head, and pushed away, looking back at him from over her shoulder. “According to creationism, fish were created on day five, insects on day six, along with man and woman. For evolutionists, life originates in primeval oceans. It's one of the few things the two can agree on. Fish first. Insects after.”
“Hmm. I'll be sure to remember that little fact. Come here.”
He reached for her, but she swam away again, prompting him to growl in frustration. She'd never teased this way with him. Max, yes. He'd watched her and his brother flirt and touch each other with affection while he did nothing but stand apart, wishing things were different. He liked her teasing far more than he'd ever thought possible.
“I find it interesting, you know—the theory that man and insects were created on the same day. Just like men, male insects are quite willing to perform certain mating rituals in order to get what they want from a female.”
Eyes narrowing, he got the distinct feeling she was trying to rebuild a wall between them. He swam closer and, sure enough, she paddled backward. What had he done to scare her? Testing her, he treaded water but let himself float imperceptibly closer. “You make it sound so calculated. Women—and I'm assuming female bugs—have their agenda, their needs, too.”
“Tell that to the female bedbug. When she lets a male get close to her, it pierces her body cavity with its penis to deposit sperm. Seems pretty calculated to me.”
He frowned. “What are you saying, Melina? You're afraid I'm going to hurt you? Male insects don't exactly have it easy, you know. Everyone knows what happens to a male praying mantis when he mates.”
Confusion swept over her expression, making her look like the little girl he'd met when her parents had first come to help his parents. Again, she seemed to force out a little laugh. “The female only occasionally bites off his head. Only when it's well deserved, I'm sure.” She shook her head, her expression growing somber. “Seriously, of course I don't think you're going to hurt me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know how things go. That's why I want to learn all I can about physically pleasing a man. The flowers. Chocolates. Deep conversation that a man puts out when he's interested in a woman? It's all part of the mating ritual. A man puts forth great effort to catch a woman's attention so he can get what he wants.”
Not liking what he was hearing, he circled her like a shark, noting the increased color in her cheeks and the rapidness of her breaths. “I'm still not getting your point.”
“My point is…you don't need to do it. The teasing. The picnic. The compliments.” She waved the air separating them. “The little lessons on trust and submission. All this. I don't need to be wooed, Rhys. I'll give you what you want. I'll give you anything you want this weekend.”
Her message was implied but clear. This weekend, but not longer. He lunged for her and she squealed, barely managing to elude his grasp this time.
Despite the slow build of anger inside him, he tried grinnin
g wolfishly. “I'm the teacher here, remember, baby? Or have you decided there's a thing or two you can teach me? If so, I'll spread myself out on that picnic blanket right now so you can show me your stuff. You'll get my point loud and clear.”
Her eyes widened, and he could see her thinking. What she said, however, nearly blew him out of the water. “What about spreading yourself out on a bed and letting me tie you down? Would that be unpredictable enough for you?”
Chapter Eight
Dalton's Magic Rule #9: Tie someone up and use a little mood music.
After her bold declaration, Melina heard nothing but the gentle lapping of the water. Unable to stand it, she looked down, straining her eyesight as if she could see one of the fish that had brushed against her. Maybe she'd been too bold? Crossed the line? Hadn't he said they'd play by his methods or not at all?
“Look at me.” Shivering at his hoarse command, she reluctantly raised her head. She gasped at the intense desire reflected in his hooded eyes, which blazed at her like ice-hot gems, but she didn't miss the edge of temper surrounding them either. “It depends what's driving you. Are you scared of me? Because if that's it, then this whole thing—”
“I'm not scared,” she rushed out. “I told you I trust you, and I do. It's just something I've never done before. All my other lovers, I would've felt silly asking them. But with you—” She shook her head. “Never mind. It was another stupid idea—”
“Come here, Melina.”
The way he said it, with more than a hint of a dare, made her heart leap out of control. To counter it, she cocked a brow, but she didn't move any closer to him. “Why?”
In response, he glided slowly toward her until they were treading water next to each other, his legs occasionally bumping against hers. What had he said about seeing her wet? Because if he touched her in the right place—she almost whimpered at the thought—he'd feel she was far wetter than mere water could make her. She was also so hot she was surprised the water around them hadn't started to boil.
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, soothing his thumb across her brow in a tender gesture that still managed to make her think of that big bed in his bedroom and him tied down and spread out for pleasure. His and hers. He smirked as if he could read her mind. “Because I'm going to kiss you. And then we're going to get out of this lake, pack up my stuff, drive back to my house, hopefully without crashing, and you're going to tie me up. But on one condition.”
Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set Page 98