Crazy for Love

by Victoria Dahl

  “Jesus.” He sighed. “You feel amazing.”

  “Maybe you’ve just been really celibate.”

  “Ha. Maybe you’ve been torturing me in that red bikini.”

  She arched her back and pressed into him. “Surely you’ve seen a lot of girls in bikinis.”

  Max’s mouth was hot as fire when it touched her neck. Wet fire that sucked at her skin and sent rivers of desire sluicing down her body. “Are you still talking?” he muttered against her pulse.

  “No,” she groaned. “Not talking. Just… Oh, man, I want to fuck you.”

  He jerked against her just as Chloe realized what she’d said. “Oh.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, God!”

  “Chloe Turner,” he scolded, choking on laughter. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing!” she squeaked. She would’ve wiggled away, but his arm was tighter than ever around her waist as his grin stretched impossibly wide.

  “Are you trying to kill me, Chloe? You know I’ve been celibate. I don’t need that kind of dirty talk going on while I’m trying not to lose it.”

  “Stop,” she begged, even while her eyelids fluttered at the way his erection pushed snugly against her.

  “Stop what?” he murmured, rocking gently against her.

  “Stop…nothing. Just… Just don’t…” He was pressed against the perfect place, his faint movements sending sparks flying through her belly. “Max,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  The wind swirled over her skin as his hand bunched her shirt up, exposing her back to the breeze. This was like a movie, the kind she never thought she’d star in. A sexy romance. A dream scene on a beach with a gorgeous man. And he wanted her. Badly. Her. Chloe, who’d lived her whole life beneath the radar. Chloe, who’d become an international joke.

  Tonight, she was a romantic heroine.

  Screw it. She took a deep breath and framed his face with her hands. “Max Sullivan, I want to have sex with you, and if that rocks your celibate world, so be it.”

  “Jesus, now you’ve done it,” he growled. His hands scooped beneath her, cupping her ass as he stood. She screamed.

  “Let’s get this done, Chloe Turner.”

  “You’re going to drop me!” she shouted as he turned and stepped up to the porch.

  “Not a chance. If I dropped you, that might postpone the sex for a few minutes.”

  “I hope we’re not skipping the foreplay.” She squeezed her eyes shut as he eased her past the doorway.

  “For you, no.”

  “And for you?”

  “Is your goal my complete and utter humiliation?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then by all means, touch me anywhere you want.”

  Laughing, Chloe forgot her fear of being dropped. And since that fear had overridden her nervousness about the sex…now she felt nothing but giddiness and the tight hold of his hands on her ass.

  He walked her all the way to the doorway of one of the bedrooms, then let her slide down his body.

  “God, you’re soft,” he murmured. “And…happy.”

  That surprised a laugh out of her. “Well, I hope you’re happy right now, too.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did know what he meant. And in that moment she knew she should tell him the truth. That her peace was an illusion. A hastily donned disguise. That she wasn’t anything he thought she was.

  Yes, she should tell him the truth, but she didn’t want to, so Chloe nodded and pulled him down for another kiss.

  I am peaceful. I am beautiful. I’m calm and confident and definitely not a Bridezilla hated by the whole world. And I am having a vacation fling with an adorable treasure hunter with control issues.

  She laughed, still kissing him, and his fingers tightened on her shoulders. When he slid one hand down to curve around her waist, his touch felt rough and desperate and his breath turned to a growl in his throat.

  When he pulled her shirt up, Chloe raised her arms without hesitation. A bra was no different from a bikini top, after all…except that it was made of sheer white lace and her skin had gotten nice and tan in the last few days…

  Max dropped her shirt and stared down at her, suddenly still.

  “What?” Chloe whispered, aware that his eyes were locked on her chest. She started to raise her arms to cover up.

  “Are you on the pill?” Max asked in a low tone.

  “Oh. Yes, but…I’d still expect you to…”

  His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “Of course! I just like to know I’m being careful.”

  She smiled nervously. Then grinned. Then began to laugh. “Of course you do.”

  “Don’t laugh.” His mouth twisted into a grimace.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that…you’re so damn adorable.”

  “I think it’s actually called an anxiety problem.”

  “Shut up,” she ordered, reaching for the hem of his shirt to even the score. “You are total hotness, Max.”

  “Well, if you feel that way about it…” He whipped his shirt off and curved his hands around her naked waist to steer her toward the bed. Not that she needed much steering. He used his foot to slam the door and close out the rest of the world.

  Her laughter was still fading, a smile still hovering on her lips, when Chloe found herself caught up in Max’s arms and was overwhelmed with the feel of him. As if she’d been standing in a calm sea and was suddenly overtaken by a crashing wave.

  His hands slid hot and rough over her back as he dragged his open mouth down her neck. Her belly pressed to his naked skin. He felt like the sun and smelled like it, too. Hot and clean and stunning. Her bra fell away and she gasped loudly at the feel of his skin against her nipples.

  Max went to his knees as if the feeling were too much for him, as well.

  “Max,” she whispered, but her whisper turned to a moan when his mouth touched the underside of her breast.

  “My God, you’re beautiful.” His breath skipped over the curve of her breast.

  She could do nothing but breathe, then breathe even harder as his mouth traced a slow path upward. The tanned skin of his face made her skin look like fine white silk. The faint roughness of his chin made her shiver. Nearly dizzy with anticipation, she watched his tongue turn a careful circle around her nipple. She closed her eyes just as his lips closed and heat and suction became her whole world.

  She felt everything, the push of his tongue and the sucking and the delicious sharpness when he pressed his teeth into her. She felt it all, and her hands were shaking when she buried them in his hair.

  They’d only known each other a few days, and yet it seemed that every minute, every second, since she’d seen him, Chloe had been waiting to feel his mouth on her. To feel this wildness take over her body.

  As he sucked at her and skimmed his hands up her thighs to sneak beneath her skirt, her body tightened to an unbearable knot of need. He was touching the curve of her ass now, slipping beneath the fabric of her panties. His thumbs rested on her hips, but the tips of his fingers were so close to where she needed them.

  Her pulse beat there, every push of blood adding pressure to her sex. This was almost painful, and Chloe suddenly understood the desperation of teen age boys who seemed willing to say anything to be touched. She’d say anything right now. Do anything.

  A low whimper escaped from her throat. She curled a fist tighter into his hair.

  Max kissed his way to the other breast, but more important, his hands edged toward the seam of her body.

  She was going to die. Turn in upon herself until there was nothing left. The tension she’d suffered in the past month was nothing compared to this.

  But he was so close…. Her breath hitched and then his fingers brushed over wetness.

  “Ah,” she gasped, body jerking in his hold as his touch slid over her. Pleasure sprang from his fingertips, jagging through her body on a rough, unsteady course. She felt swollen with lust, breaking open with it.

  “Ch
rist,” Max cursed. “I can’t…”

  His hand slipped away, and Chloe gasped in horrified alarm, but then he yanked her underwear down and stripped her bare, thank God.

  The bed was only a foot behind her, so when he guided her back, Chloe collapsed willingly. Her back had barely touched the mattress when Max pushed her skirt up to expose her completely. Looking at her, he murmured something too low to hear, but Chloe had no time to puzzle it out, because his mouth was on her then. No time to prepare or anticipate. His tongue licked and his thumbs feathered over the sensitive flesh that she’d bared for the sake of her bikini line.

  “Max,” she whispered. “Oh, Jesus.”

  Thomas had done this, of course. Who would marry a man who didn’t? But he’d never been nearly so thorough.

  Max slid his tongue slowly over her, as if listening for every moan or a hitch in her breath. He flicked over her clit, chuckling when she jerked against him, then sucked at the soft skin that framed her sex before circling back to the spot that made her cry out.

  “Max,” she gasped. “Please.”

  “Foreplay, Chloe,” he whispered. “Remember?”

  “I changed my mind!”

  “Too late.” His tongue traced her again, delving inside for a moment, teasing her, not going nearly as deep as she needed.

  “No, please. Just… You’ve been celibate and I need… Next time. Next time we’ll do foreplay.”

  “Uh-uh.” The sound vibrated into her, making her whimper. His tongue flicked against her clit, just enough pressure to torture and not enough to make her come.

  “Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod,” she chanted, arching her back, trying to open herself wider to him. Her hands clutched the bedspread. They should be clutching his hair, forcing him, but she couldn’t relax her muscles enough to let go of the blanket.

  Finally, in a small act of mercy, Max pressed a finger slowly inside her, his tongue still torturing her with small, firm licks. But the pressure of his finger was heaven on top of hell, and she moaned his name in relief.

  He thrust into her once, twice, and she pushed up to meet him in a desperate attempt to get him deeper.

  “Okay,” he breathed. “You win. I can’t wait.”

  He deserted her completely, and for a moment, she was lost. Sinking into deep, lonely water, close to weeping with the loss. But she heard the rustle of clothing and a faint rip of a plastic wrapper, and then his strong hands were bracing her hips and inching her farther off the end of the bed…

  She curled her fists so tightly that they ached. Lights danced behind her clenched eyelids. And then the head of his cock slid against her sex until it caught snugly just inside her.

  “Yes,” she prayed aloud.

  He pushed slowly, opening her with steady pressure. Chloe tried to breathe and couldn’t. Breathing would distract her from the feeling of his wide shaft filling her up.

  She didn’t need to look to know that he was bigger than Thomas. Her sex squeezed against the welcome invasion.

  “Christ,” he breathed as his hips settled against her thighs. His fingers spread wide against her stomach as if to hold her steady.

  Chloe finally drew a breath, and she opened her eyes.

  He looked beautiful above her, face tight with concentration as he stared down at their joined bodies. His shoulders were impossibly wide, his arms corded with tense muscles. Then he raised his gaze to her face, and Chloe gasped. Heat lit his brown eyes so they glinted like copper. He looked wild and tender all at once.

  Eyes still locked on hers, Max slid out and thrust hard into her. Oh, boy, he was definitely bigger than Thomas. For a moment, she had to fight the panicked urge to push her toes into the carpet and back away. But then his thumb slid down to brush her clit and the next thrust pushed a pleased cry from her throat.

  He wasn’t too big at all. He was just perfect, and when Chloe arched up to meet him, Max whispered curses under his breath and took her faster. He slid more easily now, as her body finally adjusted to his width, and she could tilt her hips into every thrust, every deep slide of his cock.

  She closed her eyes against the brightness of the room, so that all the light gathered into heat inside her. Heat that tightened and circled around every small rub of his thumb.

  Oh, God, that was good. So good. And his body was so…inside her. More solid than any other part of her, the force coalescing every sensation in her body into that tight center.

  Toes pressed hard to the floor, Chloe rose up against his next thrust, and everything inside her squeezed tight around him until the tension set her free. She threw her head back and cried out her shocked pleasure. He grabbed her hips to hold her close against him as the climax shook through her. Long after she’d stopped jerking against him, his fingers clutched her hips in a hard grip.

  Chloe forced her unwilling eyes open to look at him. His gaze was locked on her face, the muscles of his jaw standing out in stark relief. And his hair was a mess. Tousled and slightly damp, as if he were back on the deck of a ship. But she’d done that to him. Made him mad-eyed and wild-haired. She smiled.

  His fierce expression didn’t budge. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are when you come.”

  Though she was limp and boneless, Max lifted her toward him as if she weighed nothing. Still deep inside her, he put his arms around her and kissed her hard.

  Chloe curled her legs around his hips as he began to thrust again. He came like that, kissing her, his whole body pressed to hers, their skin slick with sweat.

  At that moment, Chloe had the silly and terrifying thought that she could stay wrapped around Max Sullivan forever.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HER HIP ROSE UP from her waist in an enticing curve, drawing Max’s eye every time he tried to form a thought. Not that he was in a thought-conducive position, pressed naked against Chloe’s back while she curled into his pillows like a cat. He eased his hand onto her hip and followed the contour up to her ribs. “You are so damn soft.”

  “I wish you’d stop saying that. You’re making me feel fat.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said. Genevieve had been whip-thin and elegant and well-manicured at all times. Chloe was perfect, with her soft curves and fresh, natural beauty.

  “Your skin is soft,” he said belatedly, and that was true, too. And she smelled good. And her breasts…and her sex…

  Jesus.

  Maybe he was just OD’ing on femaleness. Maybe nine months of celibacy had drained his body of any resistance to their delicious charms. Or maybe it was that she was the girl next door he’d always dreamed of.

  Max closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. Even as he breathed in the scent of her skin, he told himself to cut it out. This was an island fling. She wasn’t going to be his girlfriend. She was way too normal to be his girlfriend.

  But her body fit against his perfectly, melting into him as if she felt the same draw he did.

  “So…” she said. “You also have a fear of out-of-wedlock pregnancy?”

  The words shocked a cough from his throat. “Good God, can you imagine me with a kid?”

  She wiggled onto her back to look up at him. “Aw, I think you’d be an adorably overprotective dad.”

  Max automatically reached for the headboard to rap it with his knuckles. “Knock on wood when you say shit like that.” She laughed, but he wiped a hand over his brow. “I’d be a complete nightmare.” But he felt a twist of disappointment in his gut at his own words. He liked kids. But so many bad things could happen to them, and any kid of his would be the one life he actually would be 100 percent responsible for. Max barely bit back a shiver at the thought.

  Luckily, he was saved from descent into panicked thoughts by the realization that Chloe’s chest was fully visible. “Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are?” He cupped one breast in his hand as a blush crept up her neck.

  “Yes. You mentioned it. But I’d like to make clear that I think you’re ridiculous.”

  “I’m
not ridiculous.” He softly dragged his fingers over her nipple, watching as it pebbled at his touch.

  “I’m entirely average.”

  He noted the faint rasp to her words and smiled as he touched her. “Perhaps you don’t understand just how much men like women’s bodies. If you mean you have an average dress size…you’re naked now, Chloe, and that means you’re officially spectacular.”

  “Really? Is that all it takes?”

  “That and your gorgeousness.”

  “Ha!” She shook her head again, but her smile was more than a little pleased. He pressed a lingering kiss to that grin.

  “It’s nice,” he said. “Being honest with you.”

  The smile faded. “Lying to everyone can’t be fun.”

  “Oh.” Max flushed with shame and dropped to his back. “I prefer to think of it as living in a disguise.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I just don’t know how you have relationships if you never reveal that part of yourself.”

  He shrugged, aware of the way her hair shifted against his shoulder. “Haven’t you ever kept part of yourself hidden from a boyfriend?”

  Silence filled the room, and Max was thankful for it. He’d been in several long-term relationships, but he couldn’t say any of them had been meaningful, not on his part. He’d spent every month with each of those women watching for a sign that he was free to leave gracefully. Luckily, with women who lived for drama, there was always an obvious ending point. Usually the point at which Max became boring and another man promised scandal and excitement.

  He should feel lucky that he’d never been invested enough to have his heart broken, but instead, each breakup had left him emptier. Taking care of a woman wasn’t the same thing as loving her. It was draining, and it was a lie.

  “Yes,” Chloe finally said. “I’ve hidden things from people before.”

  Max nodded. “Sometimes you just get caught up in it.”

  She inhaled so deeply that Max frowned at the ceiling. “Can you really love someone if you keep so many things hidden from them?”