Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle

by Amy Andrews, Aimee Carson, Avril Tremayne

  She gave a small nod, as if she had processed and approved his words, and then hers lips turned up in a shy smile. ‘So what now?’

  Adam returned the smile, aiming to project a whole lot of inner wolf. ‘We are going to do whatever you want, Liv. Your choice. Your control. Your terms.’

  * * *

  Olivia tried to think over the exhilarated buzz that hummed through her body, turning her into a live wire of excitement. They were going to do it—assuage this crazy attraction. Any which way she wanted.

  ‘Whatever I want?’ she asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘OK. Don’t laugh, but I want to go home and sit under the stars and make out.’ She blurted the words out.

  A smile tipped his lips and creased his eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ she protested, ‘I said don’t laugh.’

  ‘I’m not laughing. I’m thinking that sounds about perfect.’

  Light-headedness born of anticipation made her giddy as they rose together. Adam made to pull out his wallet and Olivia shook her head. ‘My treat, remember? It’s already paid for.’

  ‘So we’re all done here?’

  ‘Check.’

  ‘Then come on!’

  Olivia’s heart did a funny little flip at the huge grin on Adam’s face as he held out his hand and she slipped hers into it.

  Half running, half walking, both of them laughing in sudden exhilaration, they made it back to the villa. It was only when they stood on the threshold that Olivia felt the onset of faint panic, and an absurd shyness tugged across her chest as they stepped inside.

  But diffidence loosened its hold as Adam reclaimed her hand and led the way onto the decking. Without breaking their connection they settled onto the woven bamboo swing chair.

  Olivia curled her feet under her bottom on the white cushion as the chair rocked under their weight, feeling that strange shyness returning. It had been easier back in the day in the lift, or in the limo, where passion had simply overtaken them with no time for thought.

  This was different. Adam had given her a choice.

  She stared up at the inky black sky, coruscating with starlight, and turned to Adam. The half-moon dappled his profile with its beams.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, meaning You’re beautiful. But maybe that wasn’t an appropriate thing to say to a man? Her tummy dipped with desire; this was right. How could it not be?

  Stop overthinking, Liv.

  She took a deep breath—infusing her senses with the calming frangipani aroma—and dropped a bare foot to the ground to act as a pivot, twisting herself onto his lap. Her knees straddled his lean hips, the core of her pressed against his hardness, and she exulted in the reaction.

  The movement was a deliberate replay of their time in the limo—only this time she knew she wouldn’t pull back. She would trust herself to Adam completely.

  She pushed her fingers into the thick springiness of his hair and lowered her lips onto his.

  As if her actions weren’t enough, he growled against her mouth. His lips parted and his tongue touched hers, gently at first, each stroke teasing her, sending a stream of exquisite sensation rollicking through her body.

  ‘More,’ she breathed. And with a deep groan he gripped her waist and rocked against her. Just like that warmth rushed through her lower abdomen and she wriggled in his lap.

  Tilting his head, he deepened his kiss, his hands slipping from her waist to plunge downwards and smooth back up her thighs under the skirt of her dress. She writhed to give him room, and when his fingers curved around her bottom and he kneaded the soft flesh she seized in rapture.

  Her whole body was alight—until Adam ended their lip-lock. When he pulled back she gave a mewl of protest.

  ‘Liv...’ he said, his breathing ragged. ‘You need to decide what’s next. Because soon we’re going to gallop over the line of making out and I won’t be able to stop.’

  His gorgeous milk chocolate eyes were dark and dilated with raw, primal need and she tensed inwardly, waiting for the automatic reflex of shame. Adam had managed to stop, to call a halt, whereas she would have kept going without a thought. Out of control.

  Not so much as a flicker. Instead she felt heady, exhilarated. As if she could swim the Channel doing the butterfly stroke.

  Her lips curved upward as she braced her palms against his chest, felt the pounding of his heart beneath her fingers.

  ‘Good,’ she whispered. ‘Because I don’t want you to stop.’

  In one lithe movement he stood up, and she wrapped her legs around the solidness of his waist, entwined her arms round his neck as he strode towards the sliding door leading back inside the villa.

  She pressed her lips against his, desperate for another of his blissful kisses. Their tongues danced, the tempo increasing as they wended their way through the lounge. Olivia was faintly aware of knick-knacks tumbling in their wake as Adam bumped into a laden table.

  They entered the bedroom and Adam halted; Olivia slid down his body and stared up at him, senses awhirl.

  She stepped backwards, caught a glimpse of her reflection in the ornate gold-framed mirror. Eyes wide, pupils dilated, a fine sheen of desire glistening in her skin.

  She wanted him.

  A tight knot of anticipation tangled her tummy up as she slipped her dress off so it fell in a tangerine pool to the floor. She stood in front of him. Just her. Olivia Evans. Completely and utterly naked.

  Mouth parched, she licked her lips as her throat clogged in sudden vulnerability. ‘Adam...?’

  The predatory glint in his eyes as they raked over her said it all. Had more of an effect—she felt hot and squirmy and exultant.

  Careful, Olivia. Any beautiful woman standing here would make him react like this.

  Really, Liv? You really believe that?

  No, she didn’t. Because the point was that it wasn’t any woman standing here. It was her.

  ‘Liv. You are gorgeous.’

  He skimmed the back of his finger along her collarbone, followed the curve of her breast until it reached her tight nipple. One soft caress, one light flick with the pad of his thumb, and an electric flash of heat jolted through her body, turning her legs to jelly.

  ‘So beautiful,’ he murmured, and for the first time in her life she was glad of it. Wanted to be beautiful, to give pleasure.

  ‘Tell me what you want,’ Adam rumbled, the dark chocolate of his voice strumming her skin.

  And suddenly it was all so simple ‘I want you,’ she said, and buzzed with exhilaration at the sinful smile that curved his lips and lit his eyes. ‘Naked.’

  ‘That’s easily arranged.’ He crossed his arms, his fingers gripped the bottom edge of his T-shirt and he tugged it over his head.

  His chest was perfection: sculpted muscle with a light smattering of hair arrowing down over ripped abs, pointing in a sexy vee towards the ridge in his pants.

  ‘Keep going,’ she breathed.

  ‘Patience,’ he admonished in a mock growl, before deftly shucking off his shorts and boxers and kicking them unceremoniously to one side.

  Holy Moly. Adam was...magnificent, was one adjective. Bloody enormous would be two.

  Mine.

  For this night Adam was hers.

  Her skin felt taut with a yearning to be touched, but her greedy fingers were more interested in him and she wanted to stroke and caress and explore every inch of his muscular glory.

  His chest felt hard under her fingertips, and when she smoothed her palms over his hot skin Adam reciprocated, cupping the weight of her breast in his palm, his thumb circling her nipple. Olivia whimpered for more.

  Suddenly the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and Adam coaxed her down; her back hit the satin coverlet and she looked up at him, braced above her
. His palms were either side of her head, his brown eyes so completely focused on her that she shivered from head to foot.

  Rolling onto his side, he tiptoed his fingers across her sternum, over her tummy and downward, his eyes hot and heavy with delicious intent as they reached the very heart of her.

  His fingers circled and teased and tantalised until she was burning for him, and when he finally slipped inside her she clenched around his fingers. ‘Please, Adam,’ she breathed, begging him to end the torment.

  At her words his erection nudged her thigh and she reached out to span and stroke the velvety thick length of him. He groaned long and low as she slid her hand to the tip of his hardness, circled the satiny head and glossed over the bead of moisture she found there. He felt amazing.

  ‘You’re killing me, Liv,’ he gasped.

  Not as much as he was killing her.

  Olivia undulated on the bed, raised her hips, questing, needing release with a painful intensity as his skilful provoking ministrations pulled her to the brink and back; the pleasure was so excruciating her breath caught in her throat.

  Then finally, with one, two, three deft strokes, he found her sweet spot and she cried out, shattered as she clenched around him in release.

  It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes before she floated back down to earth to find him watching her, a thoroughly satisfied smile tilting his lips. She stroked his cheek, unable to think of anything to say except thank you—which felt wholly inadequate.

  ‘That was incredible,’ she said.

  ‘That’s just the starter,’ he said. ‘You’re in luck. It’s HOOGOF day.’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘Have one orgasm, get one free,’ he murmured, and Olivia burst into a peal of laughter.

  ‘You want to take me up on it?’

  ‘Absolutely, I do.’ Hard to believe she could come again, but already her body tingled as he gently nudged her legs apart and knelt between them.

  Adam lowered his head to kiss her tummy, then trailed a path of butterfly kisses upwards until he reached her breasts, where he laved first one nipple then the next. Exquisite sensations shot through her, and Olivia gripped his shoulders and scored her nails down the gorgeous supple length of his back.

  Waves of pleasure swirled deep inside her and she thrust upward, desperate to have him inside her.

  She watched him fist a condom down his length, his hands unsteady. ‘Now, Adam,’ she whispered.

  Then he was braced above her, sliding that long, hard thickness inside her so slowly that every gorgeous inch sparked a new and building tension, creating a maelstrom of pleasure until she couldn’t bear it any more.

  ‘Please...’ she moaned, and he began to thrust faster, harder, the sensuous wonder so fierce Olivia thought she’d pass out. Then they reached the apex and she shattered beneath him, crying out his name as she soared to release. Distantly she heard Adam’s deep, exultant roar and knew he’d followed her into the abyss.

  * * *

  Olivia opened her eyes to the lilting sound of birdsong and the knowledge that all was right in the world. A world where she lay cocooned in Adam’s strong embrace, enclaved in a sanctuary of sheer bliss.

  The night and the pre-dawn hours had fulfilled and exceeded any flight of fantasy, and had revealed to her a truth so blinding in its pure simplicity that she felt like an idiot for never realising it before.

  Yet at a primal level she knew no one else could have shown her except Adam. He had demonstrated that a union of bodies was exactly that. A union. She and Adam had given and taken, shared a mingling of mutual need and fulfilment, soared on the waves of ecstasy to achieve communion.

  Nothing she had experienced before could be compared—no more than she would liken the flickering light of a nearly dead torch to the hot blaze of a desert sun.

  Very gently she shifted, not wanting to wake Adam but consumed by the need to see him, to study the planes and angles of his sleeping face. Too late; his eyes had opened and he surveyed her with drowsy, languorous contentment.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, and his sleep-roughened voice tugged her heart as he pulled the blanket over his head and pulled her back into the crook of his arm.

  A sudden realisation shot through Olivia: she would never see him like this again. Dark hair mussed from her fingers, bare, smooth skin available for her caress. Never again would Olivia experience the magic of their bodies’ union.

  Zeb was arriving; the night was over. The portals of paradise were swinging closed and reality had to be faced. The irony of the situation struck her. A week ago all she had wanted was to locate Zeb Masterson. Now she wished she could put off his arrival for just one more day.

  But that wasn’t possible, so somehow she had to be all right. She’d known the rules—could hardly cavil now. Yet Adam had changed so much in her life. He’d smashed her notions of desire; he had shown her that a man could still desire a woman even if she didn’t look perfect all the time. That sex could be a beautiful, consensual act, and that a little bit of power play could be fun. As long as there was trust.

  That was it. Somehow over the past week she’d grown to trust him, to believe that he saw her as a unique individual and not a beautiful commodity.

  And if he had changed her so fundamentally then maybe there was a chance that she had done the same for him. Turned his conveyor belt view of relationships topsy-turvy?

  A furling tendril of hope took root. Later, after they had seen Zeb, she would talk to Adam. After all, there was nothing to stop them from exploring their feelings. This baby could be a shared bond between them; it didn’t have to be a barrier.

  Drowsily Olivia closed her eyes....

  She woke later to the aroma of coffee teasing her nostrils and the realisation that Adam was no longer next to her.

  No need to panic.

  Today was about meeting Zeb. It was time for her to put all these new burgeoning feelings aside and focus on the baby. No way could she tell Adam anything about her epiphany. Yet.

  THIRTEEN

  Adam dropped watermelon slices into the juicer and pushed the on button. Soon enough all these oddly domestic chores would end. No more preparing breakfast, or visiting the market for ingredients, or cooking with Olivia.

  In fact reality dictated that within hours they might well be on their way back to the UK. Mission accomplished.

  And it wasn’t only household activities that would cease; there would be no more shared bedroom antics, either. His body gave a cold shiver that belied the blazing sunshine pouring through the open window. The shudder of protest was augmented by the fire of memory from the night before; his mind and body were still caught up in the flow and eddy of the most amazing sensual experience of his life.

  He’d known that he and Olivia had a spark; he’d failed to realise it would be an ember that lit flames so intense he doubted they would ever bank.

  Whatever they had shared last night had transcended sex; there had been a connection, a mutual bond that sent a bolt of panic straight down his spine. Definitely time to call it a day. He’d waded into the pots and pans, scrubbed a few floors. and now it was time to play the ‘I’m a billionaire, get me out of here’ card.

  ‘How do I look?’

  Olivia’s soft voice broke his reverie and he turned from the kitchen counter.

  His breath hitched in his throat; she was stunning.

  She wore a fluorescent camisole top over white jeans, a jewelled clip held her hair in a knot on the top of her head, strawberry blonde tendrils escaped to frame her sun-kissed face.

  A far cry from the muted dressed-in-grey girl who had arrived on Ko Lanta in her carefully chosen neutral outfit to meet Zeb.

  This Olivia would meet Zeb on her own terms—as herself.

  ‘You look perfect,’ h
e said simply as he handed her a glass of smoothie.

  ‘Thank you.’ Sipping the vivid red drink, she shifted from foot to foot. ‘So where are we meeting him?’

  ‘Gan is taking him to Saru’s bar. They should be getting there any minute now.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

  A daft glow lit deep within him because she cared, even as instinct told him to dodge the question. This wasn’t about him, and nor did he want to discuss Zeb in arbitrary detail. This new in Zeb’s life should not be influenced by the old.

  ‘Fine,’ he said.

  Her lips pouted in a plump moue of disbelief. ‘I want to know how you’re really feeling.’

  Trying not to focus on the mouth that had moved over his body with such devastating effect only hours ago, he hitched his shoulders. ‘I’m not feeling anything. Best not to with Zeb, because you never know what to expect.’

  ‘So there is no point having expectations?’ she said softly as she moved towards him, surrounded him with a cloud of sheer Olivia. ‘Does he know we’re here?’

  ‘He knows I’m here. But that’s no guarantee that he’ll stick around. Zeb has a good nose for danger. He’ll suspect that it has to be something pretty big to get me out here waiting for him for a week. So the sooner we get to him the better. But first tell me how you’re feeling.’

  ‘Nervous. I hope with all my heart that Zeb will step up and want to be a great father.’ She wrapped a stray tendril of hair around her finger. ‘But no matter what happens now, this week has been incredible.’

  Suspicion pricked his thumbs; there was something in Olivia’s expressive eyes that initiated unease. Ridiculous. Adam shoved the brooding thought aside. They had an agreement: one night. Olivia knew and concurred with the rules—and anyway she didn’t believe in love and wasn’t looking for a relationship.

  Whatever bond had been formed would now be dissolved. Following this meeting with Zeb, he and Olivia would go their separate ways. If Zeb confirmed paternity then perhaps their paths would occasionally cross and the steeped banks of desire would give a little smoulder. But right now she deserved his support; she must be anxious about Zeb. That was the vibe he was picking up.