by P. J. Mellor
She nodded and he eased his hand away, thankful she hadn’t bitten him.
He glanced at the fire. Her clothes were hung far enough from the flames to not be in danger.
“Faint heart ne’er won fair maiden….”
He scooted a little closer.
She didn’t move or protest. He considered it a good sign.
Slow and easy, he dragged the tip of his index finger up her bare arm.
She didn’t scream and jerk away, or, worse, grab and break his finger. Another good sign.
Encouraged, he leaned to brush his lips on the cap of her shoulder.
A little shudder was her only reaction.
He placed a little kiss at the base of her neck. Then he kissed his way to her ear. “Your clothes are fine where they are,” he whispered, then stuck his tongue in her ear.
She gasped and jerked, her bony elbow firmly connecting with his right eye.
“Shit! Why did you do that?” Rolling to his back, he held his injured socket.
“Oh, Ben!” She was leaning over him, her soft breasts squished against his forearm. “I’m sorry! You startled me! And I’m ticklish. Move your hand so I can see if I did any damage.”
“No.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay.”
Reese chewed her lower lip. No doubt about it, she wasn’t cut out for wild, spontaneous—much less, uninhibited—sex.
Ben’s kisses had felt nice. Good. More than good. She must be really hard up if someone who obviously didn’t like her, who had been rude to her ever since they first met, only had to kiss her arm and neck to turn her on.
She’d never done an impulsive thing in her life. It was just her and Ben in the old hotel. No one would ever know if she decided to take a walk on the wild side.
Unless Ben told. He didn’t seem like the type, but then, she had no idea what kind of guy would kiss and tell.
Did she have the nerve to find out?
Why not?
She started by placing tiny kisses on his cheekbone, then made her way to the hand covering his eye. Prying his finger back, she playfully looked through to his eye.
“Let me see if I gave you a black eye,” she whispered. “At least, give me the chance to kiss it and make it better.”
“How do I know you won’t punch me again?”
She would have taken offense, but she saw the smile tugging on his full lips. “You’re just going to have to trust me,” she said in the softest, sexiest voice she could muster.
He moved his hand. Before she could blink, it was cupping her bottom.
On his side, now, facing her, he said, “I like your underwear.” He ran his finger under the back strap. Up and down. Up and down. Ever so slowly.
She swallowed. “Thanks.”
“I vote, to conserve our meager clothing, you just wear this while we’re on the island.” When she stiffened to keep from rubbing against the erection poking at her, he hurried on. “You’re pretty pale. Think of the tan you could get.”
“True, I’m pale, but it’s raining, Ben. Wearing a thong won’t help me get a tan. Nice try.” She grazed the tip of his nose with her teeth. “Any other reason I should do that?”
He pretended to think. “Okay, how about just inside? You can wear clothes outside.”
In answer, she reached down and snapped the elastic at his waist. “What about you?”
“Me? I’m willing to negotiate,” he said against her lips as his mouth descended.
For a few seconds, she couldn’t remember to breathe, all she could do was feel.
His lips were warm and soft against hers. She opened wider and their tongues danced an intimate tango.
He gathered her close. She could feel the beating of his heart against her ribs. Their breath mingled.
His slight stubble rubbed against her chin as the kiss went on and on. She knew, with her fairness, she’d have razor burn the next morning, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
Ben tugged on her sports bra, his fingers roaming, pushing and pulling against the solid elastic. Finally he pushed his hand under the wide band on the bottom, not stopping until he cupped her bare breast, the sports bra wadded up around her armpits.
The pressure of his hand when he squeezed felt like heaven. She did a little happy dance up and down the ridge pushing against her pelvis.
He groaned, his big hands circling her ribs to push her higher and higher until his mouth closed over her aching nipple.
With a blissful gasp, she arched her back, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth.
His free hand smoothed down her stomach, circled her hip, petted her thigh, not stopping until his finger slid under the wet centerpiece of her thong to pet her excitement.
“Take this off,” he said in a growl against her breast. He pushed on her sports bra.
She reluctantly eased away from his intimate touch to sit back on her heels, pulling the bra over her head and flinging it away.
The room immediately brightened. She turned and gasped to see her bra going up in flames in the fireplace.
“Forget it,” he said, massaging her breasts with both hands as he pulled her back to him. “I like you much better like this, anyway.”
What the heck. Her bra was history now.
Lowering down to his waiting mouth, she all but purred when he drew her nipple back into his wet heat.
“How about this?” she asked in an excited whisper, directing his hand to the thin edge of her thong.
He growled—honest to goodness growled. She bit back a smile. She’d never had that effect on a man.
“Leave it,” he said between licks to her distended nipples. “It’s sexy and I can work around it.”
“Oh?”
To demonstrate, he laid her back on the quilt and spread her legs. With a wink, he pushed aside the damp thong and took a sexy, leisurely lick before letting the thong return to its place. Her breath caught at the warm, velvety smoothness of his stroking tongue.
She wanted more. She wanted him to do it again. And again.
Her heart hammered, trying to break out of her chest.
Shaking, she reached for the tented front of his knit boxers. After clearing her throat, she said, “Well, I don’t think I can work around these.”
She pulled and tugged. Ben obediently lifted his hips so she could get the boxers off and get an unobstructed view of the hardness that had made her mouth water.
But, at the last second, she chickened out. She’d see it soon, up close and personal. Brazen as she was trying to be, it was somewhat humiliating to realize she just didn’t have it in her to take that step yet.
Eyes nearly closed in what she hoped was a sexy look, she slithered up his long legs, allowing her breast to drag along his roughened tan skin. The effect on her sensitive nipples had her panting by the time she’d stretched out along his length.
She slid her hand down, maintaining eye contact and a smile. Then gasped.
Little Ben was already sheathed and ready for action.
23
Paige rolled over and reached for her farmer lover. Her hand encountered cool sheets.
A knock on her door had her pulling and wrapping the sheet around her nudity as she navigated through the litter of clothes.
Pausing with her hand on the cut-glass knob, she looked down at her less than proper attire. “Who is it?”
“Paige?” Bailey’s voice sounded as though she were whispering against the crack of the door. “It’s me. Are you alone?”
Paige opened the door and regarded her friend. Obviously in the relaxed beach-themed mood, Bailey wore a bright yellow Capri outfit embroidered with perhaps a hundred hot pink flamingos. Her bare toes sported hot pink polish with tiny yellow polka dots. The little prisms on her yellow flip-flops jingled merrily with each step she took as she entered the room.
Bailey looked at the nest of clothes on the floor, the bra dangling from the bedpost, then back at Paige.
“Aren’t
you going to turn on a light?” Bailey’s voice screeched like fingers dragged down a chalkboard.
All the alcohol she’d consumed the previous night throbbed a dull drumbeat in Paige’s skull.
“Don’t need one,” she muttered as she shuffled back to the bed and flopped down. “Your ensemble is bright enough to light up the room.”
“Are you hungover?”
She cracked open one eye. “Stop shouting. No, I’m not hungover. Just still enjoying the buzz.” She shifted and winced at the surprising ache between her legs. “Among other morning-after delights,” she muttered.
No sunlight peeked around the edges of the shades, she noticed.
“What time is it, Bailey? It’s still dark!”
“Don’t get excited, I waited until I knew you’d be awake before I came down to your room. And it is kind of dark, but I doubt it will improve much.” Bailey shoved aside Paige’s suitcase and sat down on the small sofa. “When I was down to breakfast, Rita said the tropical storm that was predicted was moving in. She and Rick think Reese and her guide are trapped out on the island and probably won’t be back until it blows over.”
“Great.” Paige rolled to her side and propped up on one elbow. “Did the informative Rita and Rick happen to say when that might be?”
Bailey shook her head. “No. I got the impression it has something to do with wind speed, which seems sort of variable.” She flashed a bright smile. “So, since we’re here for the duration too, what shall we do today?”
Ben rolled to his back and frowned at the familiar feel of his morning boner.
Down, fella, he silently chastised. Being prepared last night had done him no good whatsoever. And that was putting it mildly. It was a safe bet his bedmate wouldn’t be pleased to meet Mr. Happy first thing in the morning either.
“Now what?” Reese’s soft voice practically screamed seduction in the gray dawn.
Remembering her scathing comments when she’d called off their hot and heavy session the night before, it was easy to drudge up sarcasm.
“Now what?” he repeated, with an edge to his voice as he rolled over and propped up on his elbow to stare down at her. “You pretty much canceled any what, or chance of what, last night.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, feeling pretty smug when she shrank back. Good. Let her be wary of him. After the stunt she pulled last night, she deserved to feel awkward or guilty. Or both. Hell, even afraid wouldn’t stink.
Pulling the quilt higher, she sat up and blinked. “I meant, now what do we do? Do you think it’s safe to head back to Sand Dollar?”
In answer, he pointed upward, where the sound of the rain pounding on the roof echoed in the lobby. “What do you think?”
“You’re the expert. That’s why I hired you.”
“True. But I was also all that was available.” He stretched, biting back a smile when he saw her eyes widen at the action. For good measure, he scratched his belly and yawned, then added a grunt.
Just as he was wondering if scratching his balls would be the coup de grace to put her over the edge, she spoke.
“About last night … I’m, well, I’m sorry.”
He stopped, midscratch. “About what?”
“Well, I didn’t mean to lead you on. I mean, I should have known better.”
“What? You reckon if you screwed a low-class jerk like me, I might take it for something more than a casual fuck?” He snorted and jerked on the quilt, pulling her closer. “You think I’m so hard up for a piece of ass that I’d fall on my knees and beg you to marry me?” Leaning until they were nose to nose, he glared straight into her wide blue eyes. “No fucking way.”
“No! Of course not.” She shrugged and he did his damn best not to drool or give in to the impulse to lick her smooth skin. All over. “I was just, um, I guess, surprised, last night.” She waved her hand in a vague gesture. “You know, you were already, um, prepared.”
“I like to be prepared,” he said, on his knees, advancing across the quilt until he had her backed against the hearth. “For anything.”
She shivered when he dragged the tip of his right index finger across her shoulder and then traced her collarbone.
“Ordinarily,” he continued in what he hoped was a lazy, only mildly interested drawl, “I’d tell you to drop the quilt and let’s get back to where we left off last night.”
“B-but? I’m sensing a but in there.” Her breathing was shallow, and her voice low and husky.
He really was trying not to notice her breasts moving so enticingly beneath the old quilt with each breath she took.
“You were the one who called a halt last night, so I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. Next time, you make the move.” So close now he could feel the warmth of her skin, smell her arousal, he waited a beat. Then another. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he tugged the quilt until it fell around her knees, then walked his fingers up until he closed his hands over her breasts. Beneath his right palm, her heart hammered.
On their knees, they faced each other. He ignored her subtle hint when she inhaled, filling his hands, silently asking for more.
His lips barely brushed hers. He leaned back and slowly releasedher breasts, brushing her erect nipples with the pads of his fingers as he severed their contact.
“You want more.” She glanced down at his obvious tent.
“Don’t you?” he countered.
She broke eye contact. “Maybe.”
He couldn’t resist. Reaching out, he gave both nipples a tiny pinch, gloating at the hiss of her indrawn breath. “Liar. That’s more than maybe. So … what’s holding you back?”
“You,” she whispered. “You were right when you said I was afraid. But not because I think you will read too much into whatever we do.” She swallowed. “I’m worried I will.”
His snort echoed. “Right. I’m such a catch. You wouldn’t want to let a stud like me get away.”
Her tentative smile clenched his heart.
“Now,” he said, pulling her into his arms, trying not to sigh at the contact of her smooth chest to his, “I get to tell you, I’m really a billionaire recluse, looking for the one woman in the world to make my life complete, right?”
She bit back a giggle, which he found totally adorable.
“That would be nice,” she said with a shy smile.
“No shit. Too bad it’s not true.” Then he wouldn’t have had to scramble for money to save the island and his inheritance. He wouldn’t have had to watch what he said and did around the woman in his arms. He wouldn’t have had to pretend to be something he was not.
Because he wouldn’t have met her.
Swaying back and forth, he ran his fingers under the sides of her thong. “Damn, I love these panties.” He trailed a row of kisses up the side of her neck. “I wouldn’t object if you took them off, though.”
“I—I can’t.”
“Are they laminated to your body? What do you mean, you can’t?”
“It wouldn’t be fair. To you. To either of us. Ben,” she said, reaching for him when he dropped his arms and moved away, “we just met. Regardless of what I let you believe, I’m not a one-night–stand person. I’m in Sand Dollar on business. I’ll only be here for a week or so. I know, I know, you aren’t looking for forever. But what if I am? You only want me because I’m convenient. Sex between us would just be something to do until the storm passes. What if I did something stupid and fell in love with you? Or, worse, what if you fell in love with me? Don’t you understand how that could mess up everyone’s life?”
“You’re interested,” he persisted. “And I know you’re horny.” He winked and smiled. “I can help you with that problem.” He held his hands up, palms out. “No strings attached. Just two people giving each other pleasure.” He hooked his thumbs in the elastic edges of her thong and gave an experimental tug.
When she didn’t protest, he tugged again, until he slid the minuscule underwear down to her knees.
Bare. She was
erotically smooth all over. With the tip of his index finger, he traced her exfoliated seam. His pulse kicked up at the feel of moisture.
Barely touching her, he stroked her, spreading her liquid excitement.
Wordlessly, she widened her stance.
When he paused, she grasped his wrist and pulled his hand between her legs.
He met her fiery blue gaze. “Tell me what you want me to do.” He leaned closer, lightly massaging her distended nub.
She whimpered and pushed her wet folds against his hand.
When he didn’t immediately respond, she pushed on his wrist, moving his hand to pet her labia.
Her eyelids drooped. Her slim hips moved in a seductive pattern against his fingers, begging for more.
“Tell me,” he managed to say again in a gruff whisper, “tell me what you want.”
“You,” she said, her voice only slightly louder than air. She pushed on his hand and moved her hips harder.
He wiggled his fingers, flicking her wetness. His cock strained against the fabric of his boxers, intent on its target, like a heat-seeking missile.
He shoved his finger into her heat, the pad of his thumb massaging her nub. He pushed higher. “Open your eyes, Reese. Look at us. Look at me.” When she finally lifted her lids to look at him, relief washed through him.
They were both going to end their dry spell.
24
“Tell me,” Ben urged again, his finger buried deep inside her aching body.
Lordy, if he kept whispering to her like that and wiggling his embedded finger, she was going to embarrass them both and come all over his hand.
“Tell. Me. What. You. Want.” His breath was hot against her ear.
It’s not that she didn’t know the words. Heaven knew, she’d heard Paige say them enough. And, also thanks to Paige’s sometimes graphic descriptions, she was also pretty sure what she wanted. More turned-on than she remembered ever being in her life, Reese found her only problem was getting her throat and voice to cooperate enough to verbalize her desires.
With his other hand, he rolled her nipple. Between her legs, she grew slicker. Her muscles began to tremble. How much more of his sensual torture could she take before she collapsed in a quivering puddle of need?