God, she was sexy. Cerulean eyes, heavy-lidded and hungry. Her lip swollen from where she’d bit, her cheeks flushed, her hair in wild disarray.
Good intentions went out the window and he did the only thing he could do in that precise moment. He took her mouth, fast and fierce. Punishing. She thought he didn’t want her? Didn’t she know he was fucking choking with the need to yank those flimsy shorts aside and bury himself deep? He’d been ready for her since the moment he’d first seen her in the bar, even before he realized who she was.
Brooke whimpered into his mouth and Asher eased back, giving them both time to catch their breath. “There is nothing stupid about the way I’m feeling right now. Nothing at all.”
Asher ran a hand up the outside of her thigh, loving the feel of her silky smooth skin against his palm. He slid around to cup her backside, pulling her tight against him. He shoved his aching prick against her folds. Hot. So fucking hot.
“Feel how hard I am? That’s all for you.”
“Then let me have it.”
Christ. This woman. “No.”
“Why not?”
Her sexy pout damn near made him change his mind. Who did he need to see about sainthood? Because after this, he damn sure should qualify.
“For starters? Just this morning you told me this wasn’t what you wanted.”
Her fingers trailed down his spine, weakening his resolve with every vertebra. He had to shut this down. Now.
“I’m not allowed to change my mind?”
Asher shook his head. “Not when I can’t be sure it’s you talking and not the alcohol. Which brings me to reason number two, and, for the record, the sole reason I’m not buried to the hilt inside your hot little body right now. You’ve been drinking.”
She arched, rubbing her breasts against his chest. “I’m not drunk.” She scrunched her nose and giggled. “Although, I’ll admit I had more wine I thought.”
“You’re so fucking cute right now.” Tipsy or drunk…whatever the adjective, it didn’t matter. He would not take a woman to bed who’d been drinking unless she consented while sober. Brooke had not. He made her regret him once before. He wouldn’t do it again. “And stop rubbing on me like you’re a cat. I’m having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you as it is.”
“Then, don’t. Touch me. I want you to touch me.”
Asher groaned. She was not making this easy for him. “Brooke.” Her breathing hitched as he lowered down, bringing them nose to nose. “Listen up, sassy girl. The next time I get inside you, I want you stone-cold sober. I don’t want any doubts or regrets between us. Only desire and pleasure.” He pressed his hips into hers one more time to drive the point home. There would be pleasure. So fucking much.
The lust shining in her eyes told him she knew it, too.
Soon, he silently promised. Soon.
Right now it was time to go, before his moral compass spun in the wrong direction.
“You owe me a day. Tomorrow. Just you and me.” He rubbed the tip of her nose with his. “Tell me what I want to hear, sweetheart.”
She stretched up, a sensual smile curving her lips before they brushed against his.
“Yes.”
Best fucking word, ever.
8
Brooke woke with a headache, thanks to the half bottle of wine she consumed the night before. She knew the amount because the bottle was on the counter in the kitchen, along with a bottle of ibuprofen and a note from Asher indicating she should meet him in the lobby later that morning for their “date.”
Day, not date, she reminded herself. Regardless of the term Asher used, they weren’t dating. Would never date. She couldn’t have her heart getting confused about what was going on between them.
She took an extra long shower. She didn’t bother with makeup since her skin held a healthy glow from yesterday’s sun. She towel dried and braided her hair. She felt almost human as she donned a long dress and sandals. Without knowing what he had planned for the day, Brooke was unsure what she should wear. She thought about calling him to check, then immediately got irritated because she still didn’t know what room he was in or have his phone number. She resolved to remedy that situation when she saw him again.
Using the slider, Brooke stepped outside and into what promised to be a beautiful day. She double checked to make sure the lock re-engaged before heading toward the main building. The dining room located within the lobby offered an extensive Bloody Mary bar. Some eggs, bacon, and a Bloody Mary with all the trimmings would be just the ticket to get her on the right track. She didn’t want a headache to ruin her day with Asher.
God. Asher.
She couldn’t believe she’d thrown herself at him last night. Brooke snorted at the thought. She was giving herself too much credit. Throwing herself at him would’ve been slightly less embarrassing than the dry humping routine she performed when he carried her inside. And that wasn’t even the worst part. She was the one who wanted something real from him. The minute an opportunity presented itself to do just that, she turned into some kind of drunken, lap dancing hussy and ignored the reason he sought her out in lieu of what was in his pants. It served her right that she had been left wanting on both counts.
“How many?” the girl behind the hostess stand asked as Brooke approached.
She had over an hour before she was supposed to meet Asher. His note hadn’t said anything about breakfast and there was no way she could function without some food in her belly. She’d brought her laptop along so she could get some work done while she ate.
“One, please.”
The hostess smiled. “Right this way.”
The girl led Brooke to a table for four. While she could use the extra table space to work, she didn’t want to take up unnecessary room so close to the peak breakfast hour. The restaurant was quite busy.
“I can wait for a smaller table if you have a group that could use this one.”
The hostess looked surprised. “While I appreciate your offer, it’s not necessary. You shouldn’t have to wait simply because you are dining alone this morning. We like to make sure all of our guests get the same consideration.” She set a menu on the table. “Your server will be by to take your order. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Less than five minutes later, with her breakfast order taken and a Bloody Mary in front of her, Brooke dug her laptop and notebook out of her bag.
She reviewed her notes from the day before, crossing out most of the ideas she’d played around with on the beach. She needed something with impact. Something that would bring meaning to the grand opening of the couples resort.
Brooke picked up her pen and wrote destination weddings on the paper. They were all the rage these days. Weddings, honeymoons, renewal of vows. What better way to target the couple market than to offer wedding packages? The Midnight Bay Couples Resort would forever be etched into the minds of those who were bound in matrimony there. Those couples would return to relive the magic. They would tell all their friends about their amazing wedding, the friendliness of the staff, and the stunning beauty of Turks and Caicos.
Perfect.
Brooke brainstormed on paper and the foundation for a new campaign began to form. Her scrambled eggs with cheese and a side of bacon were delivered and she made several lists while she ate. Potential ideas for the kinds of photographs she would need for the pitch. Target markets they would hit. Questions to ask Gregory, since he hadn’t mentioned offering any type of wedding or honeymoon packages.
“Excuse me. Brooke?”
Startled from her work, it took Brooke a minute for her brain to process the fact that Asher’s sister was standing next to the table.
“Oh. Grace. I…I, um…” Brooke looked around for Asher. If he’d set her up again, she would have his balls in a vise before lunch.
“My brother’s not here,” Grace told her. “I haven’t seen him yet, but then again, Mom and I didn’t make plans with him today since we have to go shopping. Do you mind if I sit?”
Since Grace had pulled out the chair next to her and was already half way onto it, Brooke figured the question was rhetorical, but she answered anyway.
“Sure, but could you give me a minute? I need to finish this one thing.” She quickly finished jotting down the hook she’d been working on, then gathered the notes she had spread out all over the table.
“What’cha working on?” Grace’s eager, somewhat mischievous smile was achingly familiar. It was the same smile Asher had flashed her way before their trek down the beach yesterday. Brooke felt an instant connection to the girl. Under different circumstances, they might have become good friends.
Not for the first time, Brooke wondered what it would be like to have a sister. She had girlfriends, but none she would consider close. In school, she was too busy studying and taking care of things around the house. She didn’t have the time or energy required to nurture friendships. As an adult, she worked all the time. The few friends she’d managed to hang on to worked as hard as she did.
“An advertising campaign for a new section of this resort that opens next year.”
Grace’s eyes bugged. “You work here? That’s so cool.”
Brooke chuckled as she stuffed papers into her bag. “No, but I agree it would be totally cool to work and live here. As things are though, I work for an agency in San Diego. They sent me here to get the lay of the land and meet with the guy in charge.”
“You live in San Diego, then?”
It was surreal, being interrogated by the teenaged sister of the guy she’d begged to fuck her last night. “Yes. North Park.”
Grace toyed with the edge of the table cloth. “I guess that’s where you met my brother?”
“Actually, no. I used to live in Coronado. That’s where we met.” Brooke didn’t have a lot—or any—experience with teenagers, other than having been one herself once. Did they all take so long to get to the point? Because Brooke was sure Grace had one. She hadn’t stopped by for the hell of it.
Brooke didn’t want to be rude, but neither could she afford to get attached. She sensed the longer she spent with Asher’s sister, the more the girl would grow on her. Was already growing on her.
“Is there something you wanted to—”
“I’m sorry,” Grace blurted, her cheeks blooming pink. “I shouldn’t have been so rude to you yesterday. Ash didn’t tell us about you. I was surprised and…”
“Hurt?” Brooke guessed.
“Jealous.” Grace’s face scrunched. “That sounds so petty, wanting to hog him all to myself. I’m sure you don’t get to see him any more than I do, considering he’s gone all the time. Asher wasn’t happy that I ran you off yesterday. Do you hate me?”
Brooke wasn’t surprised that Grace had been jealous, but she was taken aback that a girl of sixteen would so willingly admit such a thing. Coupled with the apology, it was clear Grace was mature for her age. Brooke would need to be on her toes around this one, lest she forget Grace was, in fact, still quite young.
No. You don’t need to be on your toes, because you’re not going to be a part of her life. Don’t forget that.
Be that as it may, Grace was Asher’s sister. She couldn’t let the girl think she was upset with her when she wasn’t.
“Of course I don’t hate you. You didn’t do anything wrong. Can I let you in on a little secret?” When Grace nodded vigorously, Brooke said, “I was surprised, too. I knew you and your mom were on the island, but I didn’t know you’d be on the boat yesterday. The reason I left had nothing to do with you, so please, don’t give it another thought. And since I owe you an apology for the way I bailed, how about we call it even? Start over with a clean slate?”
Before Grace could answer, Gregory appeared. “Ms. Ramsey.” He smiled. “Brooke. I’m glad I saw you sitting there.” He glanced between her and Grace. “My apologies for the interruption. Might I have a word? It won’t take but a moment.”
It seemed apologies were a dime a dozen this morning. “Grace, do you mind? Gregory is the man I’m working with here at the resort.”
Grace’s cheeks turned the color of a fire engine. She was staring at Gregory as if the man held the secrets of the universe and he planned to share them at any moment. “I, um, no. I don’t mind.”
Brooke gestured toward an empty chair, which Gregory was quick to claim.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Everything is fine. I had a brilliant idea I couldn’t wait to share with you. As you know, we will be offering private romantic dinners for our couples at the new location. In order for you to understand what we are trying to accomplish, I’ve made arrangements for you and your boyfriend to have dinner in one of the new spaces this evening, if that works for your schedule. If not, we can pick another night.”
Brooke cringed at the word boyfriend. She snuck a quick glance toward Grace, who was watching the interaction with rapt attention.
Great. Asher had introduced her to Grace as his friend. Maybe Grace would assume Brooke had traveled with someone else. But what if Asher mentioned to Grace that he was having dinner with her? Then Grace would think they were together. Grace would certainly tell her mom and … how the hell had everything gotten so fucking complicated?
That’s why it was always better to be honest. You tell one lie, even a lie of omission, and it snowballed out of control. She should just come clean. Tell Gregory that she and Asher weren’t a couple and stop this farce right now. It wasn’t as if the guy actually cared whether or not they were together.
“Gregory,” she started, intending to set him straight, but the man talked right over her.
“Of course, the kitchen there isn’t ready for meal preparation, but Chef Rancourt jumped at the chance to cook for you. He will prepare your meal at Seafare, but you will be served at the new location in the same fashion as our guests will be after we open. Isn’t that fantastic?”
“Isn’t what fantastic?” a familiar voice boomed from behind her. “Gracie, what are you doing here?”
Not again. Brooke groaned.
There wasn’t enough ibuprofen on the island for the headache rebuilding inside Brooke’s skull. She turned to glare at the man who had started all of this.
Asher looked good, damn him. His hair was shining, wet from a shower or maybe a morning swim. He wore a white short-sleeved button-up tucked into black shorts. He was even wearing a belt. He looked more ready to play golf than spend the day on the beach.
“Never mind about Grace,” she snapped. “What are you doing here?”
He frowned. “You’re late. I warned you I’d come looking.”
“I’m not late on purpose.” She tilted her head toward the others at the table. “As you can see, I got distracted.”
Ever helpful, Gregory stood and clapped Asher on the shoulder. “I was just explaining to Brooke that I planned a quiet, romantic dinner for the two of you tonight.”
Annnnd they were outta there.
Brooke surged up from her chair. “Didn’t you say we were late?” She grabbed her laptop and shoved it into her bag. “We’d better get a move on. Grace, it was nice chatting with you. Gregory, I …” Need to get the hell out of here before the start of Grace Interrogation: Round Two. “Can I get back to you? Thanks.”
Brooke didn’t wait for an answer. She hooked her arm around Asher’s and all but dragged him out of the restaurant. And she kept right on going until they were out of the hotel and on the path that led to her room.
“You wanna tell me what that was back there?” Asher asked, his long strides easily keeping up with her accelerated pace. “Why were you and my sister together? And what’s this about a romantic dinner? Brooke. Goddamn it. Will you stop?” He jerked her around to face him, his hands cradling her biceps as though he wanted to shake her. “What’s lit that fire under your ass?”
Brooke shook her head and chuckled, softly at first. The last forty-eight hours had definitely been the most interesting of her life. Dou
chebag Brett. Asher, pretending to be her boyfriend. Asher, whose concerned look said he might be questioning her current mental state.
Then, there was the fact that he was even there, on the same island, thousands of miles from where either of them called home. Meeting his family. Grace and her apology. Gregory and his romantic dinner planning.
The ridiculousness of the entire situation hit her all at once. Asher Dillon had shown up and turned her life upside down. Again. What were the fucking odds?
In all the gin joints…
Brooke broke into a serious case of the giggles. She laughed until tears blurred her vision.
“What’s so funny?” Asher demanded.
“I’m …” She waved a hand, dislodging his from her arm. “Gimme a sec.”
The good news was the laughter released all the tension in her body, making her feel almost refreshed. The bad news was that Asher would probably cancel their day together after she finished acting like a lunatic.
She giggle-groaned and held her palms against her aching side. “Sorry. It’s just…” She swallowed hard, trying to keep the giggles at bay. “Your sister now thinks we’re a couple.”
The hardened look on Asher’s face dried her humor right up.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m trying to decide if I should be offended or just downright pissed off that you find the idea of being tied to me so hilarious.”
Huh? “I wasn’t laughing because I thought us being a couple was funny. I was laughing about the fact that our lie-by-omission-pretend-relationship has grown legs and learned to walk. And why would you be offended or angry anyway? Didn’t you recently explain to me, in detail, how you refuse to be tied to anyone?”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“All right, then.” Brooke tilted her head and studied him. He didn’t look appeased. She smoothed the front of his shirt, even though it didn’t need it. When she got to his belt, she hooked her finger through one of the loops and gave it a little tug. “Let it go, champ.”
Hot SEAL, Bourbon Neat (SEALs in Paradise) Page 8