Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 2

by Lexxie Couper

  “Is this how you live with yourself, McKenzie Wood?” He turned his attention back to the foyer and the broad back of the world’s most Googled rock star. “Delude yourself into believing you’re not being a horrible creep?”

  “Yep.”

  Her one word answer made him snort, but for a brief second McKenzie glimpsed a hint of a dimple in his left cheek.

  Bingo! She had him.

  “Just go with me on this one, will you?” She turned her own stare to Blackthorne, her stomach knotting. This time the physical reaction was from nervous excitement. “All I’m going to do to start with is say g’day.”

  Aidan snorted again. “Why do I not believe you?”

  McKenzie laughed. “I have no idea.”

  Nick Blackthorne weaved his way through the smattering of guests milling around the Bandicoot Resort’s massive reception area, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t the fact he was here, at the soft opening of the resort, that made him happy, nor the fact he was walking around without a minder or bodyguard or groupie to be seen. It was simply because the woman laughing behind him had a delightfully throaty, infectious laugh.

  He stopped himself from shooting a look over his shoulder, concentrating instead on finding the correct passageway that would lead him to the Oasis Bar. He was a touch jetlagged and needed something more than coffee to wake up.

  A touch? You’ve been on one plane or the other for the last three days. You’re more than jetlagged, you’re jet-fucking-dragged-through-the-turbines stoned. Besides, the need for something more than caffeine has nothing to do with jetlag. You just want to sit out in the sun and pretend you’re a normal person for a short while, don’t you?

  He smiled wider. The truth was always less sensational. It had been a long time since he’d been able to sit at a bar and relax. When his agent had offered him the chance to attend the resort’s soft opening he’d jumped at it. Minimum number of guests, all hand-picked by the hotel’s manager, all—his agent assured him—too discreet or important in their own rights to worry about him being in their presence. A nice change from where he’d just been, that was for sure.

  The thought made his smile falter. A little. He wasn’t going to let his mind turn to where he’d just been. Not when he was walking through Eden.

  Ah, so the romantic you used to be is still buried in that craven pit you call a soul, is he?

  Behind him the woman laughed again, another low, throaty chuckle and, before he could help himself, Nick turned.

  Whoa.

  She was only a few feet behind, grinning up at a guy almost half again her height, her long, strawberry blonde hair a flaming halo in the sun’s warm rays, her pink lips stretched in a grin that said very clearly, “Yes, I am completely in charge of this situation.”

  Nick let his gaze flick to her companion, noting with an experienced eye the man’s latent strength in his six-foot-plus form, his fluid, steady movements, and his utter adoration for the woman gripping his arm.

  Fuck, they were a sexy couple. Damn sexy.

  His prick twitched in his jeans and he scowled, turning away from the young lovers. There was a time he’d have walked straight on up to them and suggested something far more depraved than either could probably imagine. Something very dirty and very enjoyable. That time had passed, however.

  The woman laughed again, the delicious sound accompanied by a lower, deeper chuckle. The guy’s laugh. Relaxed. Easygoing. Coming up from his chest to slip past his lips in a humored rumble. Equally as infectious as hers.

  Nick’s cock gave an eager spasm, rubbing with a certain amount of pleasant insistency against the denim of his favorite jeans.

  He drove his nails into his palms and scanned the lush gardens on the other side of the glass wall. Where the hell was this bar? Somewhere outside beside a pool? He needed a drink.

  No, not a drink. You need—

  A face of an angel with filth on her mind,

  I pray to burn in her fire, I pray to die in her arms.

  The words—lyrics of a song he hadn’t written yet—whispered through Nick’s head and he raised his eyebrows, his heartbeat quickening. Just as it had been too long since he could relax in public, it had been even longer since words of music came to him. Whoever the redhead was, she stirred something in him.

  Yet the arms of her lover reach out for more.

  Like a sinner I will burn in his fire,

  I will die in his fire as she pleads for more.

  Nick came to a halt, the unexpected lyrics floating through his head. It seemed they’d both stirred something in him he hadn’t felt for a long time, not just the woman.

  The whisper of a rhythm teased him and he closed his eyes, a familiar sensation stirring in the pit of his gut. Carnal thoughts and lyrics? Coming to Bandicoot Cove really was a good—

  “Excuse me, but can I ask you a question?”

  The soft, husky voice speaking beside him could only belong to one person. Opening his eyes, Nick turned around, leaving his sunglasses firmly in place as he fixed his gaze on the flame-haired woman smiling up at him. This close she wasn’t just sexy, she was stunning. Stunning and gorgeous. As was the man standing next to her, his expression unreadable, that sleeping strength radiating from him in waves of…

  Like a sinner I will burn in his fire,

  I will die in his fire and beg her for—

  “You’re Nick Blackthorne, yes?”

  The woman’s question took Nick by jarring surprise. It shouldn’t have, but with the words of a hidden song taunting him and the unexpected lick of sexual interest teasing him, he wasn’t prepared. Especially for what she said next.

  “I’m McKenzie Wood from Goss Weekly.” Her clear blue eyes turned direct. Intent. “I’m wondering if you’d like to comment on your stay at the Vergnügen sex clinic in Germany?”

  Chapter Two

  Biting back a groan—damn it, she said she was going to be subtle!—Aidan watched Blackthorne stiffen. No, not just stiffen. Every muscle in the man’s body coiled, as if he were about to attack. And why wouldn’t he? He was minding his own business when out of nowhere, bam, a little thing with beguiling blue eyes and an attitude the size of Uluru smacks into his peace with a question about his sex life. If it were Aidan in the rock star’s shoes, he’d stiffen too.

  But it wasn’t Aidan, and the little thing with the beguiling blue eyes and attitude was McKenzie. Which meant Blackthorne was in a world of pain if he so much as raised his hand to her.

  “No.” The singer’s voice was a liquid-smooth purr. “I don’t think I do want to comment.”

  A strange accent—not quite Australian anymore but not quite American either—made the words sound tight. Strained.

  “So, nothing about the rumors you checked in to Vergnügen to try and cure your—”

  Aidan reached out and pressed his hand over McKenzie’s open mouth, grabbing her around the waist and tugging her against his body as he did so. He looked at the tall man standing stock still before him, eyes still concealed by pitch-black sunglasses, body still tense.

  “Sorry,” he said, ignoring McKenzie’s attempts to disengage herself from his hold. It wasn’t easy—she was the only daughter of seven offspring. She knew how to get herself out of a death grip if she needed to. He, on the other hand, was a firefighter. And he’d been wrestling with McKenzie—in some way or another—since before his balls dropped.

  When the hell are you going to tell her how you—

  “Sorry,” he said again, giving Blackthorne an embarrassed smile. “She kinda forgets not everyone’s open to her type of charm.”

  The rock star didn’t say a word. Nor did the tension leave his body.

  Aidan pulled McKenzie—still squirming in his arms—harder to his body. It was a bad idea, of course. The way her toned backside kept rubbing against his dick, the way her full breasts kept pushing against his forearm, he was going to be in a rather stiff situation any second now. Better that, however,
than Blackthorne taking a swipe at the tabloid journalist bugging him on his holiday. If that happened, Aidan was likely to do something very foolish. Knocking out the world’s most famous musician wasn’t on his bucket list.

  Telling McKenzie how you feel? That’s on your bucket list though, isn’t it? Ever since you almost—

  “Like your last album, by the way,” he burst out, shutting the unnerving thought down. Far too unnerving when the woman in question was writhing against his crotch in an attempt to break free. Jesus, he could feel his semi already. With every wriggle and squirm from McKenzie the damn thing got bigger. “Wasn’t that fussed on track number five, though.”

  Oh, you bloody moron. Has all the blood from your brain gone south?

  Blackthorne didn’t move. “Savage Lust? Not one of my favorites either.”

  Aidan laughed, the man’s answer surprising him.

  They stood looking at each other for a second, McKenzie’s muffled protests filling the awkward silence. “Well,” Aidan finally said, his cock now so hard there wasn’t a hope in hell McKenzie could miss it, “I better boat this marlin and mount her on my wall.”

  An image of McKenzie—naked and waiting for him on all fours—flashed through Aidan’s head and he bit back a groan. Fuck, that’s what he got for trying to be funny. Why the hell did he have to use the word “mount”?

  Another image of naked McKenzie popped into his head—this one of her bent over a black velvet cube with her wrists cuffed to her—

  “I’m sure that will be…entertaining.”

  Blackthorne’s strangely accented drawl jerked Aidan’s mind from the wholly arousing and unsettling image. The man looked at him, black sunglasses hiding whatever was going through his mind. His expression never changed, his body never relaxed.

  Just get her outta here, Rogers. Take her as far away from him as you can. Now. Before she bites your hand or you come on the small of her back.

  It was the last thought that did it. With a nod and an embarrassingly sheepish grin, Aidan hauled McKenzie off her feet and carried her in the opposite direction of Blackthorne. Jesus Christ, what a debacle.

  He strode through the foyer, ignoring the curious glances and questioning stares of the resort’s guests and staff. Thank God Mason wasn’t about. The guy knew what his sister was like. He’d probably offer to lend Aidan a hand and that’d end them all up shit creek.

  No, what he needed to do now was take her back to her room, deposit her on her bed and then—

  Fuck her senseless?

  —go find Kylie and apologize in advance for harassing one of her guests. After that, he’d find a bar and order himself a bloody stiff drink. To go with his bloody stiff dick.

  Two seconds later, McKenzie did what he suspected she’d do much earlier. She bit his palm. Hard.

  “Oww.” He dropped her, shaking his hand before giving the bright red teeth marks indented in his skin an angry inspection. “That hurt.”

  McKenzie glared at him. “Serves you right. What the hell were you doing?”

  “Saving you from a lawsuit,” he shot back, shaking his hand again. Damn, she knew how to bite. “And saving your friendship with Kylie. Do you think she’d be happy you pissed off one of her guests? Not just one of them, either. Nick bloody Blackthorne. Think for a second here, Mack. Yeah, there may be a story to be had, but Christ, this is your friend’s job on the line. A soft opening like this comes with all sorts of expectations and conditions. You stuff up Kylie’s event and she’ll suffer, long after you’ve written your story and moved onto the next one.”

  For the first time since he’d known her, McKenzie seemed lost for words. She stared up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her eyes wide. She looked confused. Fragile.

  So completely kissable.

  Do it. Do it now. For fuck’s sake, man, how long are you going to wait? Do you need to almost die in another fire before you tell her?

  He took a step toward her.

  “Where the hell have you two been?” a male voice boomed from behind Aidan, and he turned around, his gut sinking to find Mason approaching them both. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  McKenzie let out a soft breath, the sound ragged, and he flicked her a quick look, frustration stabbing into him. Whatever expression had been on her face when she sighed, it was no longer there, replaced instead with a wide grin as she watched Mason walk toward them.

  What do you think it was, Rogers? Do you really think she wanted you to kiss her? The whole reason you never have is ’cause she’s never shown an iota of sexual interest in you. What would change that? Manhandling her like you did? Hardly.

  “Aidan, you bloody bastard,” Mason continued, throwing him a laughing glower, “you turned your mobile phone off.”

  His balls throbbing and his cock an aching rod, Aidan turned toward McKenzie’s twin. “You think I wanna clean that boat of yours so early in the morning?”

  Mason gave him a wide grin, his eyes as blue as McKenzie’s—and just as full of irrepressible charm. “Hey, what else are you going to do?”

  What else indeed?

  “I can tell what you’ve been doing,” Aidan said, knowing very well the statement would shut Mason up in a heartbeat. McKenzie’s twin was in a rather unusual…relationship…with his best friend, Trent and the cute little Canadian pastry chef they’d met a while ago, but he wasn’t overly forthcoming about it when he was around McKenzie. In fact, Aidan would say Mason was doing everything he could to keep his sister in the dark.

  For a quick second, panic flickered across the other man’s face and then he gave them both another patented Mason Wood smirk. “Don’t try and wheedle out of it, Rogers. You owe me a boat clean-up.”

  “What have you been doing all morning?” McKenzie asked, giving her brother a curious look. “We didn’t see either you or Trent at breakfast.”

  A very faint pink tinged Mason’s cheeks as he looked everywhere but at his sister. “Err, housekeeping.”

  “That’d be right.” She rolled her eyes. “In your hotel room for less than an hour and it’s already a mess. I hope you’re not making Paige clean it up. She’s far too nice to be doing your dirty work.”

  Mason didn’t say a word, but Aidan noticed his cheeks got a little pinker.

  “How long has she been going out with Trent for?” McKenzie asked, and Aidan had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself bursting out laughing. It seemed that while he may be the only one not scoring, at least he wasn’t the only one feeling awkward at the moment—Mason’s cheeks were almost red.

  “Did you know Josh Lye is here? Installing the resort’s IT system.”

  Mason’s hurried question made Aidan blink. And McKenzie laughed. “Josh Lie-With-Si? Really? Does Sienna know he’s here? She’s going to freak when she finds out. Especially now she’s finally starting to live her life again.” A wide grin pulled at her lips and she rubbed her hands together. “Wow, I just remembered I still owe that bugger a thump in the arm.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “You’re not still holding a grudge over the AFL Grand final are you? Bloody hell, sis, that was twelve years ago.”

  McKenzie jutted out her chin, the stubborn action making the pit of Aidan’s gut tighten and his balls—still throbbing from their earlier unintended stimulation—ache anew. Jesus Christ, he was pathetic. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Josh’s team lost. I get to thump him. That was the bet.”

  Mason gave her an exasperated look. “How old are you?”

  “Same age as you. So shut up.”

  “No, you’re not,” he shot back, lips twitching. “I’m five minutes older.”

  “Freak.”

  “Lunatic.”

  “Maniac.”

  “Girl.”

  It was Aidan’s turn to roll his eyes. “Alright you two, break it up.”

  Mason poked his tongue out at his sister before giving Aidan a firm stare. “I need you at the yacht in a couple of hours, mate. Don’t be
late.”

  Aidan raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay, okay.” Mason shrugged. “Please can you come to the yacht, Aidan? Trent and I are taking Paige out later this evening and we need your help.”

  McKenzie laughed. “You mean his muscles?”

  Mason flicked Aidan a quick look, a small grin pulling at his lips. Aidan resisted the urge to shuffle his feet. The way McKenzie’s twin was looking at him made Aidan wonder if the way he felt about her wasn’t as secret as he thought.

  His gut knotted. If Mason suspected he had a thing—a big thing—for his sister, what would the guy do? Hit him? Hug him? Tell him to fuck off?

  And if you die before she finds out? What does that achieve?

  “No,” Mason drawled, a gleam in his eye that made Aidan’s stomach knot some more. “We need his firefighting skills.” He gave McKenzie a “duh” look. “Of course his bloody muscles, you moron.”

  It was McKenzie’s turn to poke her tongue out at Mason. “I don’t like you. Go away, please.”

  Mason grinned again, the smile so like his sister’s it was a little freaky. “Gladly. Places to go, people to do.”

  McKenzie pretended to make herself gag. “You’re disgusting.”

  With a wave and another uncomfortably ambiguous smile at Aidan, Mason left them alone, swinging open the nearest exit door in the glass-walled passageway and ambling through the gardens outside.

  “I’ve always wondered what sex on a boat would be like?”

  The question was out before Aidan realized where his mind had taken him. Or that he’d spoken aloud.

  “Who’s having sex on a boat?” McKenzie turned her head, tracking her brother with a narrowed-eyed stare through the glass until the tropical gardens swallowed him up.

  “Err…”

  She turned back to Aidan, giving him a disgusted look. “Mason? Really? Sex with Mason? Who would have sex with Mason?” She pulled a face. “That’s just gross.”

  Aidan cocked an eyebrow. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I’m pretty sure your brother has a dick and you know what we blokes are like—have dick, will use it.”