Sneaky.
“Did you sleep well, Czarina?”
The question pulled her attention away from the dark landscape whirring past her window. She snuggled into the thick blue hoodie he’d zipped her into first thing this morning and stifled a yawn. “Not too bad.”
The bags under her eyes probably told a different story, but hopefully it was too dark for him to see them. After yesterday’s sunset sail, not to mention her first non-solo orgasm in longer than she cared to calculate, she should have been able to pour herself into bed and drift off to dreams of gentle seas and firm hands. But no.
Her father had pinged her with a bunch of additional questions about her purchase order, and a reminder about her Saturday night date. Rafe had left a thinly disguised check-in attempt in the form of a voicemail asking her to call him. A long phone conversation with her mother hadn’t helped matters, either. She’d managed to convince Sonja not to hop on a flight to Maui—barely—by mentioning that Luc expected to arrive later in the week. Between Sonja’s uneven maternal instincts, her father’s matchmaking, and her brother’s not-so-subtle attempts to keep tabs on her, the man sitting beside her might well be the only thing saving her from a nervous breakdown.
Her eyes strayed from the purple sky to him. This morning he wore gray cutoff sweats that ended a few inches above his knees and left the rest of his long, tan legs bare. But even where they covered him, they hid nothing. Not the strength of his thighs, or the mesmerizing contours of the one thing he’d withheld from her yesterday. Would he give it to her today?
She pressed her thighs together to combat the sudden, sharp need. What if she just…took it? One tug of a drawstring and those shorts would be open and gaping. She could have his hot length in her fist. She could lower her head to his lap and kiss the smooth, blunt tip. How long would delayed gratification last if she did that?
Maybe he sensed her thoughts, because he laughed. “Get your dirty little mind out of my pants, Czarina.”
Damn, he read her like a billboard. Most people didn’t. “Don’t get cocky.”
“You like cocky,” he shot back, and then pointed to a small bag tucked into the tray in the center console. “On the off chance you also like banana-macadamia muffins, there are some in that bag.”
“Thanks. Maybe later.” Much later. Baked goods, no matter how tasty, wouldn’t satisfy her appetite. She knew this from experience. She slid her gaze back to him, to look her fill from beneath her eyelashes. In deference to the chilly air, he wore a black fleece pullover, with the three snaps at the collar open to reveal a white T-shirt beneath. The pullover had a less predictable effect on her than the shorts. It made her imagine snuggling into him.
The impulse struck her as more out of line than the urge to wrangle his dick out of his shorts. People in relationships snuggled. People on a six-day sexfest didn’t. Did they?
His unshaven jaw stirred up all her hormones—the cuddlers and the ones fueling her dirty little mind.
The Jeep hit a dip in the road and jostled her. The slap of smooth leather sent shocks to already overstimulated parts of her. She clasped both hands around her coffee cup and took a gulp.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet me so early,” he said, keeping his eyes on the still-dark road.
“No”—a yawn interrupted her reply—“problem.”
“Don’t see too many early mornings in Siberia, Czarina?”
The tires bounced over another bump and sent a new round of punishment throbbing through her. She ground her teeth to keep from groaning. “I see my fair share. I work for a living.”
“Really?” He rubbed his jaw, oblivious to what the rasp of skin on stubble did to her insides. “What do you do?”
I sabotage myself by bringing up topics I don’t want to discuss. Sometimes she was her own worst enemy. For a moment she imagined telling him the truth. I’m Arden St. Sebastian. My family owns the resort where we met, along with a few hundred others around the globe. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?
But complicating their nice, simple scenario with reality risked ruining it, so she shrugged. “Have meetings. Adhere to budgets. Send emails. Nothing earth-shattering. My only point was, I don’t sleep ’til noon.”
I can’t, on account of the giant stick up my ass.
She was spared any need to elaborate because he pulled up to a National Park Service tollbooth. The conversation paused while the ranger confirmed his reservation, and he paid the entrance fee. Once they were under way again, he turned to her. “Even if you don’t usually sleep in, you probably don’t drag yourself out of bed before dawn.”
“How could I miss the best motherfucking sunrise of my life? What would my friends in Siberia say?”
He grinned and took a right into a nearly empty lot. “I have no idea, but I appreciate you being so flexible.” After pulling into a parking space, he cut the engine, and then surprised her with an unexpectedly serious look. “I wanted to see you, but I have a…um…let’s call it a prior commitment, later today and I can’t cancel.”
He wanted to see her. It helped to hear him say so, because clearly, she’d wanted to see him, too. So much so she’d put her desperation on parade by getting up before sunrise to do it, but then again, her chance at playing it cool had ended somewhere around the time he’d called her out on faking an orgasm.
What she didn’t expect was how completely uncool she wanted to play it now. Questions buzzed around her head like gnats. What was his prior commitment? She’d assumed he was on vacation, but maybe he wasn’t? Or—shit—maybe he had another date?
He reached behind her seat for the blanket, and his innocent expression told her he knew exactly what suspicion he’d planted in her brain. Was this his way of reminding her they had a temporary, no-strings-attached arrangement? He was free to play, so don’t get too attached?
Don’t ask. Do not ask.
“Something on your mind?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, then.”
He stepped out of the car with a carefree grace that suggested he’d taken her at her word. The bastard.
“Do me a favor and grab the muffins.”
She picked up the bag, but before she fully processed the impulse, she reached inside, grabbed one carb-bomb, and hurled it at him.
It thudded off his unsuspecting shoulder. He turned, looked at the muffin lying on the ground, and then braced an arm on the roll bar of the Jeep, leaned in, and looked at her. “Problem?”
The words she didn’t want to voice flew out of her mouth. “Okay, you win. What’s the damn commitment?”
Several beats of silence followed, echoing in the foggy predawn and underscoring how loud she’d been.
“Turns out that’s a personal question.”
His properly modulated reply contrasted so starkly with her outburst, she felt her face heat, even as her defenses went up. “Is it?”
He nodded. “I’m happy to answer, as long as you’re prepared to answer one of my questions in exchange. What do you say, Czarina?”
…
What the fuck are you doing?
A man who avoided drama knew better than to deliberately toy with a woman’s temper. But he’d done it with her, because this perfect deal he’d made was starting to bother him. His best assets might include above-average sexual know-how and a willingness to put it to use, but there was a bit more to him. The fact that she didn’t care to know made him feel like a dick. Literally.
She blinked first. Looked away and rubbed her forehead as if easing a headache. “I withdraw the question. Sorry I snapped at you,” she added. “I owe you a muffin.”
He released a breath, but the disappointment lingered.
You knew going in you’d have to try harder. She told you as much.
Right. So he’d try harder. He pushed off the roll bar. “I owe you something, too. Since we’re done baring our souls here, want to collect?”
The speed at which she leaped out of the Jeep managed to batter his ego and bolster it at the
same time. He welcomed her enthusiasm, even if it did highlight the singular nature of her interest. He took her hand and led her down a trail traversing the rocky red landscape that always reminded him of the surface of Mars. At this hour, and in the off-season, they didn’t have to compete with hordes of tourists for a private spot to take in the view. The chill discouraged people, too. Few tourists packed cold-weather gear for a Hawaiian vacation, and the summit temperature hovered around forty degrees before the sun came up. But she’d followed his instructions to dress warmly. Between her hip-riding, slouchy black sweats with inexplicably sexy white stripes running up the sides, the explicably sexy long-sleeved white shirt that clung to her like a second skin, and his thick sweatshirt enveloping her, she wouldn’t freeze. Once he had her situated in an out-of-the-way spot, wrapped up in the blanket and his arms, he planned on making her sweat.
When the trail curved left, toward a lookout point, he steered them eastward, down a slope of rougher, less-traveled terrain, and switched his hold from her hand to her elbow. “Watch your step here. The trail’s kind of steep, but we’re not going far.”
“I’m good.”
She was. He had to give her that. She might have chucked a muffin at him for needling her, but she hadn’t complained about the early hour, the drive, the temperature, or this hike. That wasn’t always the case. As much as he loved the view, he hadn’t brought a woman up here in a long time, and never to this particular spot. Sunset sails were easier all around, but apparently he wasn’t content to stick with easy when it came to her.
“Here.” He drew her to a halt by an outcrop of rocks and released her arm. “Give me one second.” Then he took the long step down to the broadest of the rocks. After dropping the blanket, he turned and extended his arms to her.
A distinctly wary woman looked down at him. “Oh, gee. I’m not sure—”
“I’m not going to let you fall, Czarina.”
“Yeah, but when a hundred and twenty pounds comes barreling at you, physics might have a different opinion.”
“I understand how physics works.” Please. If she knew what he dealt with on a routine basis in the ER, she wouldn’t even question his ability to handle a hundred and twenty pounds of cooperative human. But she didn’t know. Just like he didn’t know who’d set her up for a fall at some point in her past, though it was clear as day someone had. “I’ve got you.”
She looked around for a moment—searching for a way to climb down without taking such a big step—and finally reached for his outstretched hands. He took hold of her wrists and easily managed her descent. Yeah, maybe he made sure the angle of her landing forced her to lean into him for balance, and yeah, maybe he liked the way her breath hitched when their bodies touched, but he didn’t think she’d blame him for taking the small advantage. When she was stable on her own two feet, he took a seat on one of the boulders and patted the space between his legs. “Got your front-row seat ready.”
The dubious expression didn’t quite leave her eyes, but she carefully stepped in front of him and settled herself between his thighs. He unfurled the blanket, draped it over his shoulders, and then wound his arms around her, wrapping them in a cocoon of flannel.
Not bad for just shy of six fifteen in the morning. He had the rock at his back, her warm body pressed to his chest, a semi snugged comfortably against her ass, and miles of mist-filled valley in front of him stretching all the way to the sea. The first spears of dawn were already burning off the marine layer, turning the cloud pack pink.
Then she fidgeted her hips. His semi surged, and words like “comfortable” ceased to be a part of his vocabulary. She released a husky little sound along with a breath and wiggled again.
“Restless?”
“Shut up.”
He laughed and transferred the job of holding the blanket to her. “You need something to keep you busy.”
“I need—oh…”
He unzipped the jacket she had on and opened it. “Keep a tight hold on the blanket. I don’t want you to catch a chill.” Then he eased his hands under her shirt and ran them up her ribs, stopping when his fingertips skimmed the elastic band of her bra. “Tell me, Czarina, have you been obeying my no-touch rule?”
She straightened. “Yes.”
He hooked his fingers under the bra and pushed everything up over her breasts. Her gasp told him she hadn’t expected the sudden move, but the way her back arched told him she didn’t object. Her head tipped against his shoulder. An unmistakable offer.
Only an idiot would pass up such an offer. He might be a masochist, but he was no idiot. He feathered his fingers over her tight nipples. “Did you touch yourself here?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Not even once? I didn’t put them off-limits as part of our deal.” He trapped them. Plucked them, pulling firmly enough to lift them a little.
“No. I didn’t touch myself anywhere.”
“Then you won’t mind submitting to my lie detector.” He abandoned her straining nipples and wedged his hands between her knees. “Spread your legs.”
She did, and shivered when he ran his palms up her thighs. He stopped just short of the apex and let her moan vibrate through him. “How about here?”
“I didn’t. I held up my end of the deal. Are you going to hold up yours?”
Smart-ass. “Was it difficult denying yourself?” As he asked the question, he slid his hands into her pants and framed her sex. “Be honest.”
She arched back a little more and pressed her forehead against his neck. “Yes. And no.”
Okay, the “no” gave him pause. “No?” Just to make sure she understood what denial he referred to, he palmed her through her underwear and growled his approval when he found her hot and wet. She rocked her hips and groaned something unintelligible.
“Sorry.” He slipped his hand into her panties. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Yes, I wanted to be touched. So much it hurt. But I wanted you touching me, and you weren’t there.”
“Did it piss you off? Did you curse my name?”
“No… Oh God.” Her body tensed as he trapped her clit firmly between his thumb and forefinger.
“Lie detector. Remember?”
“Yes! Okay, yes. Yes. I got mad.”
“Because you wanted me there, making you come?” He eased off and circled her clit. “You greedy girl. You came on the boat.”
She shook her head, sanding her forehead on the underside of his jaw. “It wasn’t enough. I need more. I’m always in need now, and it’s your fault.”
“You think you’re the only one hurting? You feel that, Czarina?” He rocked his hips, pushing his hard-on against her ass. “That hurts.”
A clench of her glutes welcomed him to a whole new level of pain, even before she said, “Then give it to me and put us both out of our misery.”
It wasn’t on today’s agenda, but…fuck the agenda. He yanked the drawstring of his shorts and dragged his cock out.
“Do it.” She leaned forward, lifted her hips, and shimmied. A moment later she sat on his lap. Warm, smooth, completely bare skin slid over his. “We both need this. Afterward, we can get on with our lives.”
Aaaand, no. This particular brand of misery was what kept her coming back. As soon as he gave her what she wanted, she’d be done with him. He’d walk away with her name and the satisfaction of a job well done, but suddenly that wasn’t enough.
What would be? Hell if he knew, but the knee-jerk answer was more. More time with her. And the one way he could guarantee himself more of her time was by withholding the thing she wanted most. “Not so fast. The last time I gave you my cock, you chose to cheat us both. You’re going to have to earn the privilege again. One step at a time.”
“You promised.”
He clamped an arm around her waist to prevent her from jumping up. “I did,” he agreed without hesitation. “And I’m going to deliver on that promise, but I have three more days to do it, don’t I?”
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“Don’t I?” he persisted, and used his free hand to cup her chin.
She let out a sigh and sagged against him. “Yes.”
She couldn’t know what a stirring sight she made, sitting there all flustered and defiant, caught in a trap of her own desires. He understood the trap, because he was in one, too. One a lot more complicated than hers. He tipped her face toward his and rewarded her patience with a long, sliding kiss. Soft lips yielded immediately. She hooked her arms around his neck. The blanket fell open, but it was okay. There was no one around to see her clinging to him, breasts exposed to the chilly air, pants around her knees and her thighs wide. Though he’d avoided getting too caught up in anyone for years, the notion of this woman clinging to him turned him on in ways he didn’t want to analyze. “I’m going to take care of you, Czarina. You never have to worry about that, but I have a timeline in mind, understand?”
A sound halfway between a laugh and a sob served as her first response. Then she added, “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course.” Even as he said it, he took hold of her chin, cupped a hand between her legs, and pulled her tight against him. “You don’t really want to exercise it, though.” He’d make sure of that. “You want me to do this…” He introduced two fingers to her mouth at the same time he sank two inside her, enjoying her quick inhale and the slide of her ass against his shaft as she jerked up and then slowly subsided into his lap again as he withdrew a degree.
“I’ve been looking, and I’ve been listening. Want to know what I’ve cataloged about you so far?”
A whimper served as her answer. Her lips closed around his fingers and sucked them deeper.
“You like to be held—to feel secure, possibly even dominated a little—and you want to be filled. So I’m going to hold you”—he flexed his arm to nestle her more snugly against him—“and I’m going to fill you.” He pushed into her again and waited out her writhing acceptance. “And we’re going to watch the sunrise. Does that sound like a plan?”
Her neck muscles gave out, and her head lolled on his shoulder. “That’s right, Czarina. I’m going to fuck this beautiful mouth with my fingers, and I’m going to fuck your beautiful pussy with my hand, and while I’m at it, I’m going to get myself off on this beautiful ass.” As he spoke, he demonstrated every aspect of his plan. She gasped and dug the toes of her white Pumas into his calves in an effort to establish some leverage. He clamped her hip with his forearm and prevented her from getting the leverage she sought.
Compromised in Paradise Page 7