Falling for the Guy Next Door

by Claire Robyns

  “I could do with a break,” she called down. “Do you want to come in?”

  He shook his head. “I’m on my way into town. I thought we could go to the beach later? If the weather holds.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said after the slightest pause.

  “Great. I’ll grab a bottle of wine while I’m in town.”

  “I’ll bring the glasses.”

  “I’ll come knocking at three, then.” He flashed a smile up at her before turning to go.

  Megan watched him walk to the car, her gaze inadvertently sliding over the denim worn into the shape of his firm backside and lean, muscled thighs. Sea, sand, sun, and Jack. No problem whatsoever.

  The cove was little more than a patch of golden sand that would disappear beneath the encroaching waves when the tide peaked in a couple of hours. Jack had driven about ten miles up the coast, then made her cross a field of gorse and heather, jump a wooden fence and practically abseil the twenty-foot drop into the cove using a weathered rope ladder that was actually just a rope. The effort, Megan thought as she spread her towel out and watched Jack shrug off his backpack, was definitely worth it.

  The only sound came from the gentle echo of the ocean and seagulls swooping low over the bay. Numerous yachts and fishing vessels dotted the flat waters in the distance, none veering too close to this particular rocky stretch of Cornish coastline.

  And the view…she sank onto her towel and gave in to the pleasure of feasting her eyes as Jack stripped his T-Shirt and threw it on top of the backpack. Swimming trunks tugged low around his hips and ended inches above his knees. His lean biceps, solid chest, concave abdomen and long thighs were naturally toned from his active lifestyle rather than the stockier build that came from pumping iron indoors.

  “Are you coming in?”

  She dragged her eyes all the way back up that gorgeous physique and shook her head. “I always need to warm up first.”

  His appraising gaze suggested he could help with that, but then he grinned and turned from her to jog into the waves. Her insides softened in languid desire as she admired the muscles rippling over his back. When the water covered his calves, he waded a little deeper and dived into a swell. He broke the surface with broad strokes that took him further and further from the shore.

  Realising he’d be a while, she removed her clothes and stretched out over the towel, arms folded beneath her head. With the heat of the sun brushing her bikini-clad body, she closed her eyes. After a few minutes of inner struggle, she decided there’d be no harm in letting her imagination take flight.

  Jack striding out of the waves, his sun-kissed torso glistening with seawater, maybe one toss of his head to shake a dripping fringe from his forehead—all in slow motion, of course. Her own body tightening in coils of anticipation as he approached, that dark gaze brushing heat over every inch of her skin. His trunks clung to muscled thighs and hugged the outline of his thick erection…despite the frigid water? She sighed deeply. Oh, yeah, his blood was hot for her, heating him up faster than the Atlantic could cool him down.

  Her toes curled as she reversed that thought. He’d lost his trunks to the drag of the ocean and rose from the water in all his naked glory. His intentions lurked darkly in the hollows of his jaw as he strode up and dropped over her, fitting neatly between her thighs in a single move that put them breast to chest and thigh to tangled thigh.

  A shadow broke the warmth of her sun-baked daydream.

  Megan’s eyes flashed open. He stood a foot from her, rubbing the excess moisture from his hair with a towel. The rest of him glistened with water. His gaze was on a slow journey up the length of her body, dark and hungry. Intentions definitely lurked in the hollows of his jaw. Unfortunately, his trunks had survived the swim. And he wasn’t dropping between her thighs. But everything else was pretty darn perfect.

  She lifted onto her elbows. “How’s the water?”

  His gaze finally reached hers. “Refreshing.”

  “In other words,” she interpreted, “freezing.”

  She couldn’t resist sneaking a look lower down and was proved wrong. Apparently his blood wasn’t quite that hot for her after all.

  “You’re not going to swim at all, are you?” A smile creased the corners of his eyes. “The sole purpose of that bikini is to torment me.”

  She arched a brow on him. “And perhaps to get some colour into my skin.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the colour of your skin.” Jack spread out his towel beside her and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

  Their bodies were so closely aligned, his trunks pressed cold and wet against her thigh. His eyes never left hers as his palm flattened on her abdomen just below her belly button. “Nothing wrong with the feel of your skin either.”

  His hand was cool on her sun-drenched skin, evoking a small gasp from her. He bent his head over her and pressed butterfly kisses to the swell of each breast. Her heat mixed with his chill and tiny reactions exploded throughout her body.

  He’d brought her to this secluded cove for a seduction, she realised. There’d be no rude interruptions, no second thoughts and no stopping. Her blood caught fire, swirling want and need through her veins. Her body had been in a state of readiness for him for two days, waiting and wanting. She arched into the imprint of his lips, too weak to resist the demands of her desire.

  Too soon, he raised his head to give her a warm, sultry look. “There’s nothing wrong with the taste, either.”

  She melted beneath that look; tried to form a response, perhaps tease him about sniffing her skin next, but all she could do was stare into his heated gaze and melt a little more.

  “The answer to your question is none.” His thumb rimmed the indent of her belly button, sending tingles to her pulse. “I haven’t slept with another woman since that night.”

  The marrow swooshed from her bones and her elbows collapsed, the back of her head sliding flat onto the towel.

  It was probably a bad sign, she knew, that that admission had the power to floor her even faster than his touch. She didn’t care. What was done was done. If her heart was more invested than she’d allowed herself to believe, then shoving him aside now wouldn’t change a thing.

  Another night with Jack, though, another memory to savour when he left…that didn’t sound so bad.

  Then his hand lifted from her belly, his index finger tracing a path up the middle of her ribcage, and she stopped thinking altogether. He hooked the edge of one skimpy triangle and slid the material aside. His gaze moved down as he cupped her breast, massaging gently. Exposed to the fresh air, to the sun, to his heated gaze, desire throbbed to her nipple until it stood erect, swollen and seeking attention.

  “Jack…” She was pleading for him to take her into his mouth and suck the aching throb.

  “Close your eyes and enjoy,” he said, misunderstanding. “I’ll hear and see anyone long before they get near.”

  Giving herself completely up to his ministrations, she did as she was told and closed her eyes. She bit down on her lip at the sweet agony as he rolled her sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He moved to her other breast, massaging, tweaking, and then leaving both her nipples in an identical state of arousal as his hand moved away. But not for long. His lips closed over the peak of her breast, his tongue rasping over one engorged nipple as he sucked her deep into his mouth.

  The beating sun crested her other nipple, lavishing a different kind of heat and twin threads of desire pulled tight all the way to her core. She arched her spine, unable to keep still, her breasts reaching for more of both.

  Jack’s fingers worked loose the bows on both sides of her bikini briefs. He didn’t displace the material, but her body knew what was coming and heat pooled low in her abdomen. Her blood steamed inside her veins and each breath came out on a whimpered moan.

  “Part your thighs, baby.” His voice was husky, a groan of his own need, and she obeyed willingly. He flipped the final triangle of her
bikini down, this time exposing her intimate core.

  His mouth moved off her breast. Her lids were so heavy, she couldn’t open her eyes, but she knew instinctively that he’d lifted his gaze to the apex of her spread thighs. Without his mouth sucking her, without his body covering her, with only his gaze on her and the anticipation of his next touch, every sensory nerve seemed to be pulsing at her centre. The intensity grew with each passing second that he didn’t touch her. The heat of the sun stroked her core, hotter and hotter, until her lower folds were swollen masses of aching desire.

  “Jack, please…” She couldn’t take much more. She bucked as the tip of a finger stroked a line between the folds and rubbed lightly over her pulsating pearl. Liquid heat rushed from her. That finger trailed down to dip inside and massage her own juices into her throbbing flesh.

  “Jack, I can’t…” A burning tremor started deep inside. She needed to explode. Right now.

  “Okay, baby, let go.” His mouth crushed over her breast again, sucking her nipple hard against the length of his tongue. Between her thighs, his thumb swirled a point of hot pleasure into her pearl bud while his palm rubbed hard against her swollen lower lips. Two fingers speared her, touching an erogenous spot deep within her.

  Her torso lifted off the ground as she exploded in wave upon wave of burning heat, grinding her core against his palm and the fingers thrusting to the rhythm of her climax. Once she’d peaked and crashed, his fingers stopped moving but remained buried deep so she could pulse and clench against the thickness as she slowly floated down from that staggering height of oblivion and brought her legs together.

  Megan felt utterly boneless. Each breath was a gulp for air as tremors of aftershock shuddered through her.

  She opened her eyes and saw the agony of unspent desire carved into Jack’s face just before his head came down, his mouth crushing hers in an unyielding kiss. His tongue pushed deep inside to mate with hers and she met each stroke with a fresh surge of passion. His body moved partially over hers as he inserted a leg between her thighs. The length of his erection lay thick and heavy on her belly. Skin roughened by chest hairs scraped a new level of sensitivity over her breasts and her nipples hardened against his warm skin.

  Her belly was tightening again, demanding more, aching for the fullness of him thrusting deep inside her, joining them with the same intimacy of his darting, exploring tongue.

  She hooked one leg around him and arched her hips, rocking slightly, thrilling in the sensation as he grew even harder against her belly.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, his body sliding over hers with a hot, dragging friction. She slid her arms around him, her nails scraping lightly down his back until she reached the ribbed waistband of his trunks. She gave the wet material an impatient, ineffectual tug, but it was enough to encourage Jack to roll off her and shrug out of his trunks. He reached for his backpack and settled between her thighs a few moments later, fully sheathed.

  Supporting his weight on his elbows, poised for entry at the juncture of her thighs, he looked into her eyes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move as he looked at her.

  His eyes held a depth of emotion she’d never seen there before. Hunger, need, the same raw desire that strained at his jaw, but so much more. He hungered for her, not just a woman’s body. The urgency to bury himself deep inside her was the culmination of building desire and not merely the urge to sate an immediate need.

  Every primal, possessive instinct he’d shown along the way had returned to gather in that look with a common theme: You belong to me.

  Not forever. She knew that. For one day at the most, perhaps even for only one hour. She told herself it was enough.

  Then, finally, he brought his mouth down to brush kisses over the column of her throat and he slid into her an exquisite inch by inch until he’d buried himself to the hilt. He filled her completely, his heat pulsing thick and heavy inside her, and she threw her head back on a soft moan at the overwhelming sensation. His kisses had trailed to one breast and he took the peak into his mouth, his tongue flicking her nipple to an erect nub. He cupped her other breast and teased that nipple with his thumb. Fire licked her veins and spread a web of aching heat throughout.

  He withdrew a couple of inches and then thrust hard with a force that pounded a wall of red-hot desire straight to her core. She cried out on the wave of pleasure-pain. Her fingers tore through his hair and clutched in a desperate need to anchor herself as he withdrew slowly and plunged hard and fast again, and again, taking her to a new, burning height with each thrust. His mouth clenched on her breast around a hoarse grunt.

  Her body bucked off the ground as he tensed deep inside her and then, on an almost savage roar that rumbled in his throat, he found his release and swept her over the black edge of her own climax. Her muscles clamped his pulsing length, milking every last drop of his release as she rode wave upon wave of blinding heat.

  He stayed seated deep inside her until the last shudder left her body, then he rolled off her and reached for his trunks.

  Feeling suddenly abandoned and confused, Megan popped her breasts back inside her bikini top and looked around for her bottoms. Her fingers were trembling—damn, her heart was trembling and where the hell was—Oh! She went onto her knees, grabbed the scrap of material and concentrated on sliding it between her legs and tying the bows.

  “Megan.” His voice was butter soft, a balm to her splintered nerves. “Come here, baby.” His arm came around her waist, pulling her down firmly into the cradle of his embrace as he sprawled out over his towel, her cheek pressed to the thudding beat of his heart.

  “That was amazing.” His fingers curled in her hair, brushing her fringe aside, and his lips pressed gently to her forehead. “You’re amazing.”

  A knot formed in her throat at his tenderness. The sexual energy consuming her had been drained, the anxiety attack squelched, and emotion rushed in to fill the gap.

  At least half of the ache of longing she’d kept suppressed for so many months had been for this…to be folded in his warmth and to be cherished, to feel complete and at peace instead of like a live wire that had been abruptly severed.

  She’d lied to herself. She couldn’t do the not-a-single-string-attached night—or afternoon—of passion without letting her feelings get in the way. Not with Jack. But he need never know.

  She slanted one leg over his and folded her arms across his chest to prop her chin on. She gave him a playful smile. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “It’s always been different with you, Megan. Special.” His grin came on slow and sexy as he linked his arms around her, his hands resting on the small of her back. “That’s why I resisted for so long.”

  Spread over him, satin soft skin flush with rock hard abs and rippled chest, appreciation for his animal maleness soaked into her pores and kept her blood simmering. Lost in the intensity of his gaze, her muscles growing languid beneath his exploration, her heart opened to his words and demanded answers.

  Why resist?

  What are you so afraid of?

  Because she knew this wasn’t Jack yielding to compelling forces beyond his control. This was his version of a goodbye speech.

  Thankfully her mind sharpened against the lull of too much Jack, too much sex and possibly too much sun, and she kept her mouth shout.

  She’d already asked those questions in various forms, long before they’d crossed the line from friendship into lovers, and his stubborn answers never changed and didn’t actually answer anything at all. He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t do long-term relationships. The world was too big and exciting and life was too short to cram into one corner of it.

  Pain stabbed at the edge of her subconscious, but she couldn’t allow it to pierce. That he’d be gone by morning was a certainty grafted to her bones and she was determined nothing would ruin these precious few hours. If she pushed him, he’d back off so quickly, he’d topple over into that abyss of secret fears and God knew what else and she didn�
��t want them to end in that particular manner again.

  So no questions, no probing, not even a casual reference to when she might see or hear from Jack again. She’d bargained this deal between her body and her heart and reneging was not an option. She got Jack this one last time and then she moved on swiftly.

  Chapter 8

  Megan couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned until her covers strangled her and then she kicked them off with a burst of frustrated energy. She tried emptying her head of all thought, but that just left a blank canvas for a fresh slew of mind games. She should have stayed; could have spent the night in his arms.

  They’d shared the bottle of wine on the beach and talked for hours, swum in the frigid ocean and warmed up afterwards with slow, lingering kisses and entwined limbs. Talked some more and watched the oranges and pinks bleed into inky blue as the sun met the horizon with spectacular grace. They’d stopped in town for calamari takeaways and eaten on the pier while Jack told her all about his upcoming exhibition at a London gallery, his eyes lit with passion as he delved into technical aspects she didn’t quite understand. It didn’t matter. With a breeze cooling the muggy evening, his thigh brushing hers as their legs dangled off the end of the pier, his enthusiasm rumbled out on a sexy baritone that washed her senses with pure pleasure. And then he’d brought her home and taken his sweet time adoring every inch of her body.

  Dragging herself away from his warmth, her limbs drugged with his lovemaking and the heaviness of sleep invading her muscles, had felt like the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

  It wasn’t.

  Waking up in Jack’s bed, watching his eyes shut down as he back-pedalled from the night before, tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave…a repeat performance of the last time she’d woken up beside him would have been much, much worse.

  Sleep must have claimed her eventually, because next thing she was drifting awake, her head groggy but her senses seeking out the disturbance that had roused her. She lay perfectly still and held her breath. Nothing to hear, except the familiar echo of the churning ocean. She released that breath, was just relaxing into the long descent back to sleep, when her body jerked and she was instantly wide awake.