“Like this?”
She nodded. “Perfect.” She lowered her arms and backed up several steps, moving diagonally as she went.
Instinctively he turned to keep them head-on. “No, don’t move,” she said, and waved her hand at him to indicate he should resume his original position. He did. When she was about ten feet away and to his right, she stopped. “Ready?”
“I have no idea.”
Her laugh held absolutely no concern. “Just do the thing when I say the word. You’ll be fine.” With that, she lifted her arms above her head in a graceful arc. Then she was in motion, her moves practiced but easy, like LeBron making a layup. First a small step, followed by a big step, and then she leaped into the air—front leg straight, back leg bent so her toes grazed the ends of her hair.
She stole his breath.
Every line of her body flowed with agile power. The one-legged landing involved some kind of pivot, and next thing he knew she was running straight at him, hair flying, chest bouncing, lips forming a word over and over again, and through a hazy buzz of lust it almost sounded like…
Uuuuuup!
Fuck. He bent his knees and raised his arms as she closed the distance between them. The wave retreated, giving her more runway, and then—holy shit—she flew. Literally flew over his head. He caught her by the hips, extended his arms to lock his elbows and stop her forward trajectory. Momentum forced him to take a step back, and then he had her, really had her. Five feet four inches of surprisingly strong, lithe woman balanced like a statue above him.
Triumphant laughter rang in his ears—hers and his—and to keep hers going, he reinforced his grip and spun her in a slow circle. “Oh my God,” she shouted, and wrapped her hands around his forearms. “You’re a natural.”
They hadn’t worked on a dismount, but when she let her back relax and lowered her legs, he levered his arms down, tipped his head, and kissed the black triangle covering her sex.
The move wrung a long, indulgent sigh from her.
“You haven’t seen the full extent of my talent.” Keeping one hand on her hip, he splayed the other along the back of her thigh, and shifted her around until he hitched her leg over his shoulder.
She shrieked and clung to his neck, enveloping his head in a full body hug.
He staggered, then caught himself, and mumbled, “Other leg,” against her thigh. “I’ve got you.”
It took her a second to find her balance, but then she leaned back into the hands he had braced under her ass and slung her other leg over his shoulder. He lifted her hips until he could bury his face at the apex of her thighs.
She draped over him, her chin digging into his skull, her arms clasped behind his neck. His lips met damp swimsuit. “Your bikini is soaked. Do I have the ocean to thank for that, or you?”
“Luke…”
He flattened his tongue against the fabric stretched snug over her sex and took a long taste. “You. All you.” He tongued her through the suit, his fingers digging into her fleshiest parts when she started to squirm.
Her voice murmured his name in a steady soundtrack of need. A hand fisted in his hair. Legs hooked around his body until the tops of her feet pressed against his ribs. She bucked against his face.
He shoved her closer. Held her there and flayed her relentlessly, until her body stiffened, until he felt that little quiver against his tongue…until her taste flooded his mouth and her scream filled his ears.
A few staggering steps were all he could manage. The lining of his swim trunks threatened to saw his balls off. With a groan of warning, he dropped to his knees in the receding surf, and lowered her to the wet sand.
She rolled over and started crawling the rest of the way out of the water. He caught a handful of her bikini and dragged it down. Her startled breath only heightened the fever. When she looked over her shoulder, the picture she made would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there. Her hair hung in damp tendrils around her orgasm-flushed face and cascaded down her elegant back. The tip of one nipple peeked out from beside her arm. Her soggy swimsuit dangled between her knees, leaving her ass bare save for a dusting of sand low on one cheek where the bottoms hadn’t offered any protection.
“Fuck me,” someone growled. Him. That tortured animal would be him.
She blinked, and then, as if she had no concern whatsoever for how close he was to losing his mind, she lowered onto her forearms and angled her hips higher. “No, Luke.” Her lips curved into an unrepentant smile. “Fuck me.”
The pose twisted a fuse inside him, but the smile lit it, and now this slow burn ended only one way—consuming him from the inside out. He wanted to see her sly smile go slack and her blue eyes blur when he pulled her into the fire. He wanted to cover her lips with his, feel every quiver, and taste every sigh as she surrendered to the heat of them. Only chivalry stopped him from flipping her over and driving into her, which would be tantamount to power sanding her backside. Instead he hooked an arm around her waist and rolled, so she ended up sprawled over him.
“Fuck me,” he said again, and used his foot to tug her bottoms off. He reached around, shoved his trunks down, and gripped his cock. As he nudged it along her cleft, she bit her lip and squirmed.
“Any way you want it, Trouble. Feeling lazy? No problem. Just rest your head on my chest and spread your legs. I’ll do all the work to get us both off. Prefer a more active role? Climb on up there and ride me straight into oblivion. Looking for the middle ground? Turn around, hug my knees, and show me how you work that ass. Your choice, but choose fast.”
She braced a hand on his chest and pushed herself up so she leaned over him. The position sent her hair falling forward like a silky curtain, and nestled the head of his cock in her folds. With a sweep of her arm, she moved her hair away from her face and locked her eyes on his. “What if I choose all three?”
“You’re not going to last through all three.” He definitely wasn’t. He felt huge to the point of abusive against her softness. Still holding himself at the base, he lifted his hips. She came up higher on her knees, and then sank down slowly, her head tipping back as she took him in to the halfway point.
It was his vision that went blurry. He blinked it clear and forced himself to wait like a gentleman, hands supporting her thighs while she rocked back and forth, working him in deeper by increments. When she’d seated herself fully, he let out a breath and prepared himself for a long, easy ride.
He should have known better. Nothing about Quinn was ever easy. She bore down hard and fast, sending a twisted bolt of pain-laced pleasure straight to his balls. His shaft throbbed inside her, brutally thick. The curse on his lips turned into a low groan as she slowly leaned forward, relinquishing half his cock by the time she braced herself on her hands on either side of his head. Her breasts swung forward.
Instinct had him clasping her waist, urging her lower. “Give it to me,” he grunted.
“I’m fucking you, remember?” She wiggled her hips. “Any way I want—”
He crunched his abs and raised himself up to capture her breast in his mouth.
“Ohhhh…” Her moan went guttural as he opened wide, drawing her in as deep as possible, scouring the underside of one generous curve with his teeth.
When her moans became whimpers, he allowed her to ease back, letting his teeth rake her tight nipple as she slid free. She automatically brought her hand up to cup the tender flesh. He covered hers with his and squeezed.
Her lips parted. Her breath escaped in pants. Her interior muscles hugged his shaft in quick flutters.
“More,” he said, unable to get enough of her, and suddenly, painfully aware the urgency wasn’t just physical. He wanted her spark. Her fire. All of her. Promises and commitments—which took them to places he’d sworn he wouldn’t go under their current dynamic, because tearing up a contract didn’t automatically change his underlying obligations to her. There was a limit to what he could demand from her right now. But he’d go right up to that limit.
He guided her forward again, bending her lower so her hips lifted and those flutters concentrated on the head of his cock. She fought herself a little, trying to push her hips back and take him deeper at the same time she stretched to offer him her other breast. He devoured this time, with his whole mouth—his teeth, his tongue—and kept it up until her hips jerked in restless desperation and the flutters turned to hungry clenches.
She speared a hand in his hair, holding his head to her breast, as the clenches turned to spasms and her hips rocked in frantic abandon. “Forever, Luke. Take me forever.”
“Don’t.” But he levered up and captured her mouth, plunged his tongue inside to claim the offer it wasn’t fair to accept as her body took him over. He came in a firestorm of need—to take, possess…to keep. All of it burned through him, searing away his resolve and laying him bare. He broke away, pressed his forehead to her jaw, and begged, “Don’t say forever unless you mean it, Trouble. I want to hear it too goddamn much.”
Chapter Sixteen
I want to hear it too goddamn much.
The words floated to the forefront of Quinn’s pleasure-saturated brain, as strong but surprisingly gentle fingers pushed her hair back from her face.
Forever. He wanted forever. With her. She lifted her cheek from his chest and pressed her lips to the spot where his heart thundered. Vaguely, she realized the tide had caught them. Waves swirled over their tangled legs while they lay in the sand like shipwreck survivors washed up on shore.
“You think you can handle forever with a neurotic, narcissistic actress?”
Another hand, not quite as gentle, smacked her ass. Over her startled yelp, he said, “I know exactly how to handle you, Trouble. Think you can handle forever with an arrogant fitness Nazi with…what was it again?”
“The world’s smallest dick?” She laughed at the memory. “I…um…” Laughter dissolved into a shivering sigh as he slowly slid the dick in question out of her swollen, orgasm-sensitized body. “I might have been wrong about that part.”
The comment earned her ass another playful slap. “Might have?”
“Ow! Okay. Okay. I was wrong.” In self-defense, she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around him. He twitched in her hand. “And yes, I know exactly how to handle you.” And then, because this was an important moment, despite how irreverently she’d asked her question, she went on. “I don’t need someone to focus solely on me to feel like I matter to them. We both have professional commitments. I don’t want to get in the way of yours ever again, or drag you into the middle of mine.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. “I’m not worried.” He ran his thumb along her cheek. “We’ll work out the logistics—”
The chime of a phone in the distance put some turbulence under her soaring heart.
“That’s you,” he said, and gave her butt a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, shifting them both into a sitting position, and handing her waterlogged bikini bottoms back to her.
Indecision tore at her, but family worry won out. She took the bikini and scrambled up. “I better check. Callum might have surfaced.”
She snagged her top from the sand on her way to where they’d parked the bikes. Her phone fell silent in the outer pocket of Luke’s backpack. After slipping her bottoms on, and looping the top around her neck, she lifted her phone, tapped the screen and saw Eddie had called. A text from him arrived in the next second. Two words, all caps. CALL ME!
Sensing Luke behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and tried for calm. “Eddie. He wants me to call.” Jesus. So much for her acting ability. She sounded like a nervous wreck. Apparently Luke picked up on it, because warm, steadying hands folded over her shoulders. For a moment, she let herself lean against him. Let his strength support her. Seep into her.
“It will be okay, Trouble. Trust me. Whatever happens, I’m here.”
She swallowed the ball of emotion trying to choke her throat, and managed a nod. After hitting the call icon, she wedged the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and reached behind her to tie her bikini top.
Luke’s long, nimble fingers took over the task. The second ring ended abruptly as someone picked up on the other end.
“We have a problem.” Eddie’s no-nonsense voice snapped over the line.
“Callum?” Her pulse raced, thrumming loud in her head. She pressed the phone more tightly to her ear.
“No. I haven’t heard from him, and none of the feelers I put out have come back with anything yet. Quinn, this is about you.”
Worry for her brother subsided slightly, but a nameless new anxiety licked along her spine. “Me? What have I done? I’ve been here.”
“You posed for some pictures. Based on how you look, I’m going to say the photo session occurred about six weeks ago. Needless to say, they were not your best shots.”
“I posed for pictures? Impossible. I haven’t had a shoot since…” Her mind went blank.
“There are four shots—one from every angle. You’re wearing underwear.”
“Those sound like my—” Her world took a sickening turn, and only the solid feel of Luke at her back stabilized her. “Oh God. I know what they are.”
“They hit the tabloids today. All four. Along with some snide speculation about whether the Lena Xavier cat suit comes with Spanx.”
“That’s impossible.” A fog of denial clouded her thoughts, and refused to lift. “I’m the only one who has them.” Except Luke. He had them, of course, because he’d taken them, but he wouldn’t share them with anyone. “A hack?”
“Doubtful,” Eddie said. “We set you up with state-of-the-art security. I wouldn’t let any of my clients run around with anything less. Once you’ve had a high-profile client’s personal data compromised, and experienced the joy of FBI agents sniffing around your systems searching for the source of the security breach, you get to be kind of a stickler about stuff like that. But Quinn,” he went on, “how they leaked is a secondary issue at the moment. What matters is the studio brass panicking. The Dirty Games executive producer called me a half-hour ago wanting to cancel your contract. I told her the pictures are old, and you’re in the best shape of your life. Then I talked her into meeting with us before she made the stupidest decision of her career.”
“When?” She forced the word through numb lips. The cold seeped bone deep. Sharp, icy pain lanced through her chest.
“Tomorrow afternoon, at the studio. Lisa’s booking your return flight as we speak. She’ll send you the itinerary as soon as it’s final.”
“Just sent it,” his assistant broke in. “You fly out this evening. Everything is taken care of. A car will pick you up from the villa in ninety minutes.”
“Okay. All right.” An hour and a half to get back to the resort. Clean herself up. Pack. She scrubbed a hand over her face. “I have to get moving.”
“Get moving,” Eddie agreed. “And Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“If you want to keep the role, focus on this. Focus on knocking them on their asses during the meeting tomorrow, because you need to convince them you’re the only actress on the planet who can play Lena. I know you’re worried about Callum, and you’re wondering how the tabloids scored those pictures. I’m on both of those situations. Don’t waste time and energy speculating on the what-ifs. I’ll update you as soon as I know anything.”
“Thanks Eddie. I—” She wanted to tell him there was only one other possible source for the photos, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Thank you.”
“This is why you pay me fifteen percent. Travel safe, and bring your A game to the meeting.” With that, he clicked off the line.
Behind her, Luke’s hands stilled. She stepped away from him, and despite the heat of the day, a prickly chill tightened her skin. She dug deep for the nerve to turn and face Luke. He stared at her, eyes intense, his handsome face full of concern.
“Wha
t’s going on, Trouble?”
“There’s a problem.” You were careless, or your security sucks, or… “I have to go meet with the Dirty Games producers pronto and fight for a role I already won once.” Her clothes lay in a little pile on the sand where she’d dropped them…what? Twenty minutes ago? Funny how forever could go by so quickly. Trying to keep her mind blank, she picked up her shorts and dragged them on.
“Why?”
“I don’t have time to get into it.” Frustration sharpened her tone. She turned away and pulled on her shirt before adding, “I have a plane to catch.”
“Talk to me, Quinn.”
Not a question this time. A command. One she planned to ignore, but when he took hold of her upper arm and tugged her around to face him, she lost her battle for self-control. “The ‘Before’ pictures you took of me are all over the goddamn internet. The producers are freaking out. They called Eddie to kill my deal. He talked them into meeting with me in person first. But if I don’t measure up to their expectations, then…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
He simply stared at her for a moment, while the implications seeped in. “Then it’s their loss and you’ll get another role.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t know what color the sky is in your world, but in mine, it’s not quite so rosy. Word will get out that they fired me because I didn’t look the part. My reputation will take a hit. I’ll be lucky to land a commercial, much less another movie, and I need to work. Callum’s rehab doesn’t come cheap, and if we ever find him, clearly he’s going to have to go back.”
He ignored the tirade and focused on the million-dollar question. “Who has access to your digital photos?”
“Nobody. They didn’t come from me,” she replied. “If you really want the answer to that question, I suspect you’ll have to look a little closer to home.”
“You think someone got them from me?” He released her and shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“Look, you rarely deal with celebrity clients anymore, so cybersecurity probably isn’t much of a priority for you. Or maybe someone on your staff decided to make a quick buck?” She shoved her foot into her shoe. “Let’s just call it an oversight, unless and until the facts say different.”
Dirty Games (Tropical Temptation) Page 16