by Livia Ellis
Returning her attention to her bag, she then pulled out the black banded notebook she had carefully written down the details surrounding her lost carry-on, including names, telephone numbers, birthdays, and social security numbers of every person who knew something about her carry-on.
“Do you often lose your luggage?”
“First time,” she said. “I'm actually pretty lucky, which I don't actually attribute to luck but rather careful planning and an attention to detail. You haven't exactly seen me at my best today.”
“I would have to disagree.” He believed he had caught her during a moment in which she was her most authentic, which, in his mind, equaled her best. “If this is not your best, then I cannot imagine better.”
“That is a very sweet thing for you to say, but I am really not me today. In fact, you may find yourself profoundly disappointed very soon when you discover the real Henna isn't nearly as fun as the one you've spent the past few hours with. I don't know what I was thinking. I cannot believe I left my bag behind in that bar.”
“Tell me the truth,” he whispered in her ear. “Did you forget your bag because you were overwhelmed by thoughts of what I might have done to you if I hadn't left?”
“You know,” she said. “That really might have something to do with it. You left an impression. No doubt about it. The bartender thought I was a hooker, too, by the way. He offered me the fifty you tipped him to blow him in the backroom.”
An irrational and instant jolt of jealousy erupted in his core. “Do you want me to have him killed?” He could. He knew people. Especially in Miami. Not that he would. He forced himself to calm down. When the moment of murderous rage had passed, he smiled. He was alive. He felt jealousy. He felt passion. He felt like himself again.
She looked up at him from the corner of her eye. “No. But thanks for the offer.”
He walked up to the counter with his arm still around her waist as if letting her go might make her disappear. But she did disappear. She stepped away from him as she fiddled with her phone while he checked into his room. He stood to the side as she checked into her room.
“It's under Schwartz,” she said to woman behind the counter as she finished sending a text. “Dr. Simon Schwartz.” Eduardo felt another bolt of jealously strike his core. Henna had said she was supposed to be traveling with a friend but not that her friend was a man and that they were sharing a room.
“Will Dr. Schwartz be joining you?” the woman asked.
“Sadly no,” she said. “I'm on my own for the next two weeks. Please cancel his reservation and put it in my name.” She handed over a credit card. “Charge it to me instead, and can I have a room with a big bed, instead of two doubles?”
“I'll see what I can do.” The woman behind the counter clicked a few keys then looked up at Henna. “I have canceled his room and refunded the charge to his card.”
“Thank you,” Henna said.
Eduardo calmed immediately. The idea of taking a woman to a room paid for by another man scratched him the wrong way. That the room had been reserved with two beds, also caught his attention. This man she should have been traveling didn’t sound like a lover or a potential lover. He concluded that Dr. Simon Schwartz was a gay friend or a family member. Any other man would not be able to share two weeks in a hotel in Bermuda with Henna without at least the thought that they would become lovers. Gay friend or relative. Had to be. Either way he didn't care. But why were they sharing a room? Could it be that she truly held on to her money that tightly?
He began tapping his fingers impatiently against the counter as the two began a discussion about what room would offer Henna the best possible view and comfort. He didn't care what floor her room was on, when it would be in direct sunlight, or how far it was from an elevator. He just wanted to get her in it with the door locked behind them.
“Just put her in a room near mine,” he practically growled.
The woman gave him a look, then just shook her head slightly and smiled. “I've put you across the hall from each other.” She handed Henna a folder with her keys. “When your bag arrives, I'll have it brought up immediately.”
When Henna had the key card in hand and the porters were leading them to the elevator, he pulled her tighter against his side.
There was no knowing what might or might not happen next. Electric sparks of anticipation crackled and snapped in his body. Under normal circumstances, he could guess what would come next, but Henna was different from most of the women he knew. The voice that had been guiding him told him there was much to gain and little too lose from being totally honest with the beautiful stranger who had catapulted into his life.
He placed his lips to her ear as his arm curled around her body. “I want to take you to my room.”
“Can we go to my room?”
“If that makes you more comfortable, then we will go to your room.”
Henna had control issues. That was evident. Another reminder that she needed to be the boss made him chuckle. He wasn't bothered. Not even a little. Letting go of control and allowing another to take charge could be just as pleasurable as dominating. Soon enough, he'd show her how good relaxing her grip and letting another person be in control could be.
They rode in silence in the elevator with a chatty bellhop they both politely ignored. Eduardo tried to keep his emotions and his body under control as Henna melted into his side. He knew what he wanted to do to her. He just needed to embrace the moment and let his passion drive him. Thinking too much would ruin what was to come.
The bellman let them into her room as instructed. Eduardo tipped him generously, then sent him back to work with a firm look and a slight jerk of his head in the direction of the door. He tossed his suit jacket in a chair and watched her. She moved around the room like a hotel inspector trying to get a first impression. The bathroom got a nod of approval, the bathtub received high marks for being both spacious and modern, the shower deemed simply divine. Her long and lovely legs carried her across the room to the balcony doors.
“Eduardo.” The sound of his name from her mouth for the first time sounded almost comically anglicized and charmingly foreign. He liked it. It was nearly a pet name. At least she didn't call him Ed or Eddie like many Americans did. She looked at him. “You need to see the view.”
The doors were flung open and her shoes were discarded. He joined her on the balcony that overlooked the water. As she leaned over the railing he glanced at her from behind then wrapped his arms around her slim, but not skinny, body that boasted a pair of nicely rounded breasts he wanted to get his hands on.
The view, lovely as it was, was not what he wanted to admire. He found her hand, gave it a tug, and then pulled her inside. She could look at the view all she wanted when they were done breaking in the bed.
Henna let Eduardo lead her into the room from the balcony. Since expeditiously dispatching the bellhop from the room, she felt her first twinge of apprehension. Inspecting the room and appreciating the view had given her a moment to breathe and regroup after both the airplane and the car.
Eduardo was a beautiful man who had pleasured her enough to leave her wanting more, but she'd strayed so far from her norm that she needed to get back. Or did she? Normal very well might be overrated.
It wasn't the first time she'd jumped into bed with a man, but it was the fastest she'd ever gone from first laying eyes on a guy to actually getting him to her room. What to do was the question. The voice in her head, so often ignored on previous occasions, answered in clear and unmistakable tones. Take him to bed. Be that vixen you know you want to be.
She slid the curtain closed for privacy, shadowing the room in semi-darkness. Just because she had strayed from her comfort zone didn't mean she had to completely leave it behind. Besides, she knew what kind of lighting worked best for her.
“You don't like the light?” He had watched her from where he leaned against a low dresser with a large mirror without breaking his gaze as she'd fussed and fiddled with
the curtains and the lights.
“I'm shy.” Not a lie. She was not comfortable baring her body even to the men she'd been involved with for a period of time. Her love of lingerie had its roots in a desire to maintain both modesty and mystery.
“The man you were supposed to be here with…” he said. “Is he your lover?”
“No.” Henna laughed, thinking of poor Simon retching his guts out and her trying to get him on an airplane. Not exactly the behavior of a good friend, but Simon would forgive her. “No, not at all. Simon is my very good friend and my coworker. Nothing more. Why? Jealous?” Driving a man to jealousy would be another first for her.
He looked at her for a long moment. She was no expert in body language, but the set of his jaw and the way his eyes held hers suggested the mythical Latin temper might have roots in reality. “No.” He pushed away from the dresser then went to his carry-on bag. “Do you have condoms? That is where this is going right now, or have I lost my ability to make educated guesses where women are concerned?” His tone had a sharp edge since Simon had been mentioned.
“He's just a friend. We were going to share a room to cut down on the cost.” Why did she need to explain this?
“You are both doctors, no? Do you not make a decent income? Why would you share to room with a man you do not intend to take as your lover?”
Did he actually think she owed him an explanation? Clearly he did. Her desire to get him into bed kept her from kicking him out. That, and she did understand to an extent why the situation might appear confusing to an outsider. If Simon were a woman, there would be no question about the nature of their relationship. End of the day, he was still a man.
“Two reasons,” she said. “Do keep in mind that I'm being really patient with you about this. One. We were lovers a long time ago and the sex was terrible. This is no knock on him. I'm sure he's improved in the last twelve years. I don't want to know. Two. He's had sex with my slutty little sister. Another thing I really don't want to know, but unfortunately, I do. Getting into bed with him again would only be yuckier if he'd had sex with my mother.” The thought of her mother and Simon needed to be quickly dismissed before it had a chance to be fully realized in her thoughts. She shuddered a little bit. “Ick. Three...”
It was clear he forced himself not to smile as he raised a finger. “You said two.”
“Well, you get three. I needed him here, because he is my rock, my best friend, and the only person who has ever killed a rattlesnake for me.”
“He killed a snake for you?”
“Yes.” She put her hands on her hips and nodded. “Okay, he also shot me in the ass at the same time and then had to dig out the shotgun pellets, but that is a whole other story.”
Eduardo started to laugh. “That is a good friend. A terrible shot, but a good friend.”
“If you're nice to me, I'll show you the scars on my ass.”
“I will remember your offer.”
“Now. Are you happy? Still jealous?”
“Was I that obvious?”
“Just a touch,” she said. “Now. Have I sufficiently answered the Simon question for you?”
“I'll let you know if I think of anything else,” he said. “Condoms? I only had the one.”
If she wanted out, this was the time to put on the brakes. She looked at the beautiful stranger, considered what she truly wanted, then went to her suitcase. With a quick zip, she opened the bag. “I have condoms. Not that I was planning on meeting someone—”
“But you always like to be prepared?” he finished her sentence for her.
“That,” she said, wanting to make him understand. “And I get them for free through one of the pharmaceutical reps who is practically stalking me. I do want to explain in advance that this is more of a gag gift than any sort of expression of my insatiable sexual prowess or commitment to breaking some kind of record.” She looked over her shoulder. “Okay?”
He nodded. “Understood.”
She pulled out a large zipper bag filled with individually wrapped prophylactics. He stared at the plastic sack, took it from her hands, and began to laugh. “For someone who wasn't planning on meeting anyone, you've certainly come prepared. You have every size, shape and color, latex, polyurethane, ribbed, nubbed, textured, lubricated, non-lubricated...” He laughed as he studied the contents of the bag until he found the one he wanted. He stepped in front of her and brushed her hair behind her ears. “Henna, you make me laugh.”
“Is that good or bad?” Again with the laughing. Was he laughing at her? At her actions? What was so amusing about being prepared? She tried so hard to do everything right, but all people seemed to do was laugh at her. Simon, her sister, her parents. Everyone found her so amusing she could just punch something.
“How could making me happy be a bad thing?” Their gazes connected again, and there was no menace mixed with his mirth. He quickly grabbed her and pulled her against his body until she could feel the lines of his chest through her shirt. Her body bent against his as he held her hard and fast. He gave her a long, deep kiss that she felt to her core.
Henna thought she might climax right there as Eduardo's mouth pressed against hers and his tongue twined with his. She shivered with anticipation and delight. With one hand around her waist, he slid the other up her skirt. Her panties were long gone, so there was nothing baring the way between his busy fingers and her damp, demanding sex. One hand ran over her bare bottom and the fingers from the other slid into her damp cunt.
A deep sigh escaped her as he removed his hands, and Henna opened her eyes. Eduardo's fingers flashed over the buttons on his shirt, and with a quick shrug, the garment was discarded. The golden color of his skin over his well-worked muscles enticed her fingers to touch him. No man who sat at a desk twelve hours a day ever looked the way Eduardo did without a shirt. He slipped from his trousers and underwear, leaving him bare.
“You're not shy, are you?” she asked as her eyes ran a marathon over his legs. Long ropey muscles and again that golden-bronzed color covered most of his body. A distinct band of pale skin wrapped around his bathing suit line. He was either a swimmer or spent a lot of time sunbathing. Whatever and whomever he might have been, a total lack of inhibitions was enviable. The ability to just be free and have no fear of judgment caused a spark of jealousy in her.
“Not really,” he said. “Are you quite shy?”
“Not shy so much as modest,” she said. “I certainly don't think I could just...” She looked him up and down as his body reached hers. “I like to get under the sheets.”
“You're beautiful. Perhaps you haven't heard that enough.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “Let go,” he whispered. “Just let me make love to you.” He cupped her chin and drew her to him for a deep, arousing kiss.
Henna closed her eyes and breathed deeply, her lungs filling with the same spicy, woodsy scent she'd smelled on his handkerchief. Her heart thumped and her body tingled in anticipation. He kissed her, his lips soft and warm against hers. His hands slid up her shoulders, pushing the light cardigan she'd worn for hours off of her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. His tongue teased hers as their mouths melted together.
His mouth edged away to explore her jaw and neck as his kisses threaded their way down her throat to her shoulder. Warm hands slid under her stretchy T-shirt, sliding it up and over her head. With a quick snap of his fingers, her bra was undone and pulled from her body. In a continuous movement, his hands landed on her waist and pushed the sensible skirt down until it puddled around her ankles. Pressing his hands lightly to her waist, he guided her around to face the mirror behind the dresser.
“You're beautiful,” he repeated from behind her as his mouth ran down her neck and his hands lightly cupped her breasts then released them. Smooth, strong hands ran down her sides, then hips and finally cupped her sex. She looked at herself as he touched her, trying to discover for herself if he was telling the truth or just wanted to guarantee getting laid.
He’d awakened a longing in her she'd ignored too long. She could barely wait to be touched everywhere and then filled with him. She tried to turn away from the mirror and direct him to the bed, but he held her fast. “I'm in charge.”
“But...”
“Just let go, Henna.” One hand cupped a breast while the other massaged her mound.
She turned her head from her reflection. His hand took her chin and gently moved her gaze back to the mirror. “What do you think you're going to see that isn't beautiful?”
What she saw was her naked body, fully exposed against Eduardo's body and his hand touching her. There was nothing wrong with what she saw. It was possibly the most intimate position she'd ever been in with a man. There was neither sheet to hide under nor the darkness to obscure. He released her chin and returned his hand to her breast.
Eduardo's foot nudged between hers, urging her legs apart. She gave a small step, then a larger one as his foot moved hers just a smidgen farther to the side. Two of his fingers slid slowly against her clit in almost a nothing gesture. There was nothing hard nor vigorous about his touch. She didn't feel like he was rushing her to the finish, but rather coaxing her toward a treat. Just a simple, gentle stroke. Like a small pebble rolling down a hill and starting a chain reaction that turned into an avalanche. She bit her lower lip and breathed harder.
The orgasm that popped from her pulsating pussy made her gasp with surprise. The deliciously unexpected purity of the release left her wide-eyed and smiling. It was reminiscent of what she felt as a young woman when discovering her body, before she become overly concerned with the quality of her performance and the needs and opinions of her partner.
Eduardo's fingers slipped away from her slick, wet sex, and his hand released her breast. His arms wrapped around her as his lips brushed her neck. “You're very lovely,” he whispered. “I am overwhelmed by your beauty.”
His arms turned her around, and she gasped when he lifted her from the ground into his arms. Her body was gently laid on the bed, and he stretched out next to her. She swallowed hard as his dark eyes ran over her body, following the trajectory of his hand. Her cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze.