by Wilde, Lori
Compelled by the burning urge to stroke him, to travel the tempting terrain of his body, she ran her fingertips over his belly. She exalted in the way his taut stomach muscles quivered at her touch.
His low groan of pleasure lit her up inside. She tracked her hand lower, finding her way through the coarse curls to glide her palm up the long, hard length of him.
Dougal’s fiery gaze roved over her; his hands sent ribbons of pleasure unfurling throughout her body. “Woman, do you have any idea just how damned sexy you are?”
“Shakespeare.” She breathed, tossed by her tumultuous thoughts. Longing overwhelmed her. She couldn’t resist. He was so damned handsome with that shock of dark brown hair and his tanned skin.
When she reached up, threaded her arms around his neck and went in for another kiss, he smiled and languidly dipped his tongue into her mouth.
She strummed her tongue against his, making herself an active participant. If she was going to go through with this, then she was going to take full responsibility for what happened. Afterward she could tell herself she’d known exactly what she was doing. This time there would be no regrets. Roxie didn’t stop him when his hand drifted to her panties.
“Lift up your hips, Muse,” he commanded.
She obeyed, levering her lower back off the bed as his big hand made short work of the slight material.
He made a guttural sound low in his throat. This was it. No begging off now. He rolled to one side and stripped off his boxer briefs in a motion so practiced she had to wonder how many bedrooms he’d performed it in, how many other women he’d slept with. His erection burgeoned, thick and heavily veined, the velvety head purpled and pulsating.
“Oh, my.” She inhaled audibly.
It was his turn to blush, which did a strange thing to her heart. He was shy with her, this big, commanding man.
She sat up and reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “No,” he rasped. “If you touch me now I shall be ruined.”
Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to her bare belly and kissed his way to her breasts, heavy and aching. She shivered.
“Pray tell me thy pleasure. It is my honor to do your bidding.”
“Yes,” was all she could manage to say.
He flicked his tongue over one nipple and lightly bit down. Razor-thin shards of pleasure spread throughout her breast. She moaned.
“Does this please thee?” he asked.
“No.”
“No?” He pulled back, looked confused.
“It exalts me.”
He grinned and kept going, his mouth sucking, his tongue teasing, fingers tickling. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. He left her nipples and traveled downward, moving his tongue in a counterclockwise motion. The maneuver produced crazy, erotic ripples in her belly that undulated all the way down into her heated sex.
When his lips reached her throbbing clit, he stopped just short of touching her with his tongue. His breath was hot against her tender flesh, igniting her beyond reason. She arched her hips again, trying to bring his mouth and her clit into contact, but he moved with her, keeping his mouth just out of her reach.
“My lord does see fit to torture me,” she said through gritted teeth.
He chuckled.
“You are unkind.”
“Patience, Muse, patience.”
She didn’t want to hang on. She wanted him to love her with his mouth right this second. Her brain was glazed with lust, her body worked up to a fevered pitch.
Gently he spread her thighs wider and moved his body around so that he knelt between her legs. “Beautiful,” he crooned.
The head of his penis pulsed against her knee as he leaned forward. Roxie’s excitement escalated. She couldn’t stand it. She’d never felt such desperate pressure.
His big fingers gently caressed her clit as his tongue probed her inner folds. Her eyes slid closed as she savored what he was doing to her.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please don’t stop.”
He captured her clit with his mouth. Never in all her life had she been pleasured this way. It was ecstasy. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted and needed, even before she did.
While he suckled her clit, he slipped a finger into her slick wetness. The walls of her sex sucked at his finger, gripping and kneading him in rhythmic waves, pulling him deeper and deeper into her.
Sound was altered and she existed in a delicious void, simply floating, aware of every physical sensation. “Mmm,” he intoned. “You taste of nectar, hot and sweet.”
She rode his tongue, got lost in it. She hovered on the brink of orgasm, but he would not let her fall over. A steady strumming vibration began deep in her throat and emerged as a wild moan.
“Please,” she begged. “Please.”
“Please what, Muse? You must request what you need.”
“Please, please make me come.”
He let loose then, gave her his all. His tongue danced, his fingers manipulated. She let go of all control and just allowed him to take over. It seemed he was everywhere—over her, around her, in her, outside of her. He was magic. He was amazing. And she was his instrument, tuned and ready to be played.
“More.” She thrashed her head. “Harder.”
He gave it to her just the way she asked for it, pumping his thick finger into her, while his tongue pressed the button of her release. “Come, Muse, come,” he cajoled.
She came. Exploding in great, writhing pleasure. She gave a long, low cry. It flowed from her, the release she’d needed for years.
Shakespeare pulled her to him, cradling her to his chest as her ragged breathing returned to normal. Roxie couldn’t stop a spontaneous grin from spreading across her face.
“Why are you smiling, Muse?” he asked, leaning over to brush her lips with his. Lying here with her calmed him in a way he’d never quite felt before. Roxie was as soothing as a soak in a hot tub, and playing this little Shakespeare game with her had been incredibly erotic.
“Oh, now you’re angling for compliments,” she teased.
“I just wanted to share in the joke.”
“Believe me, big man, that was no joke.”
He reached up to push aside a strand of hair that had fallen over her forehead. “You enjoyed it?” he felt compelled to ask, and then immediately regretted it. He didn’t want her to think she needed to bolster his self-esteem on that score, but the truth was, it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman and he was a little unsure of himself.
She looked up at him with those wide, vulnerable blue eyes that yanked on his heartstrings. What was it about her that got to him on such a primal level? “That’s the first time…um…er…no one’s ever…”
“Made love to you with their mouth?” he finished for her.
Even in the dimmed lighting, he could see her blush. “Yeah, that.”
A thrill shot through him. Okay, maybe it was a bit chauvinistic, but he liked that he was the first to give her oral sex. “So what do you think? How was it?”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that you got nothing out of the deal, I’d say chuck the whole intercourse thing and stick with oral sex.”
“There are two things about that statement that bother me,” he said. “One, nothing is better than good, old-fashioned sex, that is if you’re doing it right, and two, I got plenty out of it. Knowing that I’m making you feel good charges me up.”
“The male pride thing, huh?”
“Exactly, and besides, we’re just getting started.” He kissed her softly. “By the time this evening is over—”
The sound of his cell phone trilling the specialized ring tone he’d programmed to play when the resort’s security staff called interrupted him. Much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn’t.
“Excuse me a minute,” he said, slipping out from under her.
Roxie gave a soft noise of disappointment.
“I’ll be right back.” Dougal leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
He found his pants on the floor and fished his cell phone from the back pocket. “Hello?”
“Mr. Lockhart, this is Gerry McCracken.”
Dougal had met Gerry and the other members of resort security after he’d arrived, and he’d held a small conference meeting, telling them to be hypervigilant concerning anything suspicious, but he’d stopped short of relating the details about a possible saboteur. Even though Taylor put her employees through a rigorous background check, Dougal was by nature a suspicious man. It took a lot for him to trust people, even those he’d known a long time.
And yet, within hours after meeting her, you’ve bedded Roxanne Stanley.
“What’s up?” he asked Gerry, waving to Roxie as he padded out of the bedroom, cell phone pressed to his ear.
She waved back.
“I smell rotten fish in Denmark,” Gerry said.
Dougal stepped into the sitting area, shutting the bedroom door behind him. His gut clenched, knowing from the sound of Gerry’s voice that he was going to confirm what Dougal suspected. “What did you find out?”
“I was investigatin’ why the spotlight fell, and I noticed all the nuts were missin’ from the mountin’ bolts. I thought you might wanna come see for yourself.”
Alarm raced up Dougal’s spine. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’M SORRY,” DOUGAL SAID as he wrestled into his clothes. “I have to go.”
“What’s wrong?” Roxie sat up in bed, her legs curled underneath her, the sheet drawn up to cover her nakedness. She felt suddenly shy in spite of what he’d just done to her with his wicked mouth and tongue.
“Um…tour-guide emergency.” An odd look passed over his face and as soon as he said it, she knew he was lying.
“What kind of emergency does a tour guide have in the middle of the night?” she asked, insecurity grabbing hold of her.
“You know…disgruntled guests.” He sat on the edge of the bed, jammed his feet into his boots and began lacing them up.
“Can’t the concierge handle it?” Why was she pushing this? If the man wanted to leave, she should let him leave. That was the logical conclusion to a one night stand. If she was going to play the game, she had to accept the rules. Except she’d gotten off and he hadn’t. What guy left before he’d claimed his orgasm?
“I’m afraid not.” He got up. “I don’t want you to think I’m running out on you.”
“But you are.”
“Yeah, but it’s got nothing to do with you. Duty calls.”
Right. She ducked her head. She shouldn’t have any expectations from this man. Easy come, easy go. Pun intended.
He leaned over the bed, cupped his palm under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “Hey.”
“Yes?”
“You and I need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine.” She waved, tried to ignore the gentle pressure on her chin and how good it felt to be touched by him. “Go, do your thing.”
“I wouldn’t be leaving if this wasn’t important.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. Listen…” He inhaled, met her gaze. “I don’t want you to think I go around doing this sort of thing. I don’t. I’m not a casual guy. Not about my work, not about my relationships, certainly not about sex.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“I want to explain myself to you, dammit,” he snapped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to irritate.”
“You didn’t irritate me. I just wanted you to understand.” His voice and expression softened. “I’m not a casual guy. I don’t get swept away by my passion.”
“And yet you did.”
“And yet I did,” he echoed.
Roxie raised her palms as a strange emotion she couldn’t identify slithered through her. “Whoa.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Whoa.”
“Listen,” they said in unison and then laughed.
“You first.” He nodded.
“I came on this trip to let loose, let go, explore my…um…” Roxie hesitated. She wasn’t completely lying. Sure her boss had sent her to spy on Eros, but she had her own agenda, as well. She wanted to make up for lost time, let her hair down, have some fun, find out what she’d been missing.
“Sexuality.”
“Yeah, that. I’ve been sheltered and I figured it was time I saw what the world has to offer.”
He nodded. “That’s the reason everyone comes to an Eros resort.”
They stared in each other’s eyes.
“What we just did,” he went on, “well, I violated all the rules. There’s no excuse for it. I crossed the line. But here’s the funny thing—I’m a big stickler for the rules. I don’t break them and yet one kiss from you and my brain short-circuited.”
“What rules?” she whispered, thrilling to his words. She’d never driven a man to break the rules before and it was a heady rush.
“It’s in my contract. A morality clause. No fraternizing with the guests.”
“We just fraternized,” she pointed out.
“Big-time.”
“So what does this mean?”
“I can’t, I shouldn’t…this needs to…”
“Stop?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
Disappointment arrowed through her. She’d known being with Dougal was too good to be true. So much for her wild vacation fling.
“But I don’t want it to stop,” he murmured.
“What are you saying?” She lowered her voice, both intrigued and titillated.
“We shouldn’t take this any further.”
“No.” She nodded as if she meant yes.
Dougal’s hand was still on her chin, his eyes locked on hers. “But this chemistry between us…” He shook his head. “Wow.”
“Wow,” she echoed.
“If it was another time, another place, we’d owe it to ourselves to fully explore it.”
“We would.”
“It might even have been the best sex of our lives.”
“I have no doubt.” The way he looked at her sent blood pumping hot and thick straight to her groin.
“I really do have to go now,” he said. “Tomorrow on the tour—”
“Got it. Act like nothing happened.”
7
DOUGAL COULDN’T BELIEVE what he’d just done. This was so unlike him. He wasn’t a rebel, no rule breaker, and yet the thought of an illicit affair with Roxie excited him as nothing ever had.
What was it about her that turned him inside out? It was more than just that rich ebony hair and those impossibly blue eyes. More than just her porcelain skin and lush, curvy body. It was in the way she looked at him, full of trust and admiration. She made him feel strong and honorable and heroic, and he had an overwhelming urge to live up to all of her expectations.
How had this happened? What did it mean? Startled, he stepped back from the bed. “Sleep well,” he mumbled.
“Until tomorrow,” she whispered.
Dougal left the cottage, rushed up the cobblestone walkway and into the castle, his heart thumping fast and hard.
Gerry McCracken was in the dining room with a few members of the cleaning staff when Dougal arrived, mentally muddled and emotionally sheepish. The minute Gerry spied him, he stalked over, hands on his hips, his shock of carrot-colored hair mussed as if he’d been repeatedly running his fingers through it. He sized up Dougal with a sidelong look. “Did I interrupt you in the middle of something?”
“Um…no,” Dougal lied. “Why would you ask that?”
“Your shirt’s buttoned up wrong.” The Scotsman, who was almost as tall as Dougal, smirked. “Sorry to be spoilin’ your evenin’.”
“Let’s take a look at the stage lights.” Dougal hastily unbuttoned his shirt and buttoned it up again and followed Gerry to the metal staircase leading to the overhead scaffolding.
They both had to lowe
r their heads as they made their way up, and then crouch and duckwalk as the space grew narrower where the lights were mounted.
“See here,” Gerry said, pointing out the studs in the bracket that had once held the spotlight that had crashed onto the stage. “Studs are intact.”
“Meaning they didn’t break off.” Dougal stroked his beard with his thumb and index finger. He moved over to take a look at the remaining spotlights. They all had washers with self-locking nuts. No way could the nuts on the one that had fallen come off by themselves.
“I’m thinkin’ someone loosened all the nuts until they were held on by just one thread, so it held for a while until the pressure from the weight of the spotlight popped them off.”
“If that’s the case, the nuts will be around here somewhere. Let’s go back down and check the stage.”
Ten minutes later, they’d found all eight nuts, and Dougal wore gloves to collect them in a plastic bag to keep from obliterating any fingerprints that might be on them. This was clearly no accident.
Gerry looked at the wing nuts, shook his head. “There’s no doubt about it, Dougal. This was sabotage.”
Dougal had to agree and that meant calling Taylor. He excused himself and headed outside to make the call. He couldn’t stop his gaze from straying to Roxie’s cottage. The lights were out. Random thoughts roamed through his mind. Was she naked under the covers? Was she thinking of him? Thinking of him and touching herself the way he wanted to think of her and touch himself?
Stop it! Don’t get sidetracked.
Purposely he shook off his unprofessional fantasies and punched in Taylor’s number. When she answered, he told her what had happened with the spotlight. “This definitely looks deliberate.”
Taylor made a noise of concern. “I heard back from the mechanics about the autopilot on the plane.”
“And?”
“The results were inconclusive.”
“Meaning it may or may not have been an accident.”
“Yes.”
Dougal cleared his throat. “Taylor,” he said, “I’ve been thinking and I’m not sure I’m the right person for this job.”
“What do you mean? You’re the perfect person for the job.”