by Jaci Burton
She crossed in front of him and bent down to retrieve the brochure. Christ, what an ass! Firm and round and perfectly shaped. Not flat, but nice and round and firm, just the way he liked it. Abso-fucking-lutely perfect. He laid his head in the palms of his hands, wishing he could take back the offer to share the suite with her. This week was going to be hell. A living, nightmarish, ball-crushing hell.
“Oh, the brochure!” she exclaimed, tracing the events listing with a long, manicured nail. She slipped onto the cushioned sofa, her bare thigh sliding against his naked leg. He resisted the urge to scoot away from her. “See anything in here you like?”
Where was his tongue? He couldn’t form a word to save his life. “I’m, uh, not participating this week.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her pert, upturned nose crinkling with her frown.
“I’m here to research a book I’m working on. This isn’t a pleasure trip for me.”
“Oh.” She cast her luscious lashes downward, and had the gall to look disappointed. “That’s too bad.”
“Why?”
She looked at him, those sea green eyes of hers pleading innocently. Innocent his ass.
“I was going to ask you a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“About this week.” She half turned, her breasts pushing up against the top of the dress. Damn, they were luscious. He bet his shaft would slide easily between the two full mounds, fucking them until he came all over that beautiful face.
Down cock, down. “What about this week?”
“Well, I came here for some action, Michael. And I was thinking, since we’ll be sharing a room and all, that you and I could participate together in the, uh, events.”
“Participate? How?”
She swallowed. “You know how. The way the brochure described.”
“Well, I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.”
“C’mon, Michael,” she said, her voice low and throaty and sexy as hell. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”
So she was still a little shy. Definitely not what he expected at this resort. “If you want something from me, you’re gonna have to spell it out, Serena. Tell me exactly what you want.”
A brief glimpse of that unsure woman who’d all but stumbled into his room today surfaced, but she disguised it brilliantly with a quick lick of her hot, pink tongue over her lips.
“I’d like you to be my partner this week, Michael. I’d like us to choose events to participate in together. Events where we’d touch, kiss, explore each other’s bodies. I want to suck you and feel your tongue on me. I want to feel that hot cock of yours deep inside me, pumping away until we both come.”
Well, that sure as hell spelled it out for him.
Chapter Two
“I see.” All too clearly, in fact, Michael’s mind was awash in images of what he and Serena could do over the next week. No, no, no. Absolutely not. He was not about to get involved with a sex-starved woman this week, when what he really needed to do was research his book. If Ginny were here it would have been uncomplicated. Once the sex was over, she’d either sleep or lay in the sun. God forbid they should carry on a conversation. But Serena? No way.
He’d have to pay attention with her, not to mention engage in sexual activities that would rob his brain of even the rudimentary fundamentals of how to plot a book. Already the blood had rushed to his straining cock and he’d lost ten IQ points.
“Well? What do you think of my idea?” she asked.
He wasn’t buying that innocent bat of her eyelashes for one second, despite the fact his penis jumped up and down and shouted, Yes! Yes! Yes! “I think it’s a really bad idea. Like I said, I’m here to research, not participate.”
Her expression softened and she cast her eyes downward, those long lashes fluttering against her cheek. “Oh.”
Ah, hell. That damn hurt look from a woman always affected him. Serena was especially good at it. Her sad, puppydog face was like a knife in his heart. He wanted to pull her into his lap and stroke her back and tell her everything was going to be okay. And then fuck her senseless until she smiled again.
Not a bad plan, actually. “Hey, I didn’t mean I wasn’t attracted to you. I just have to concentrate on my work.”
“It’s okay,” she said, quickly standing and walking toward the sliding glass doors open to the balcony. She turned to him. “What kind of books do you write?”
“Erotic crime novels.”
She stared back at him for a second and tilted her head, then her eyes widened. “I read erotic crime novels. Only one Michael that I’m aware of. You wouldn’t be Michael Donovan, would you? “
He nodded. “Yeah.” For some reason the fact that she knew who he was surprised the hell out of him. She didn’t seem the type to read his kind of books.
“I love your books,” she said, a smile curving her lips before she turned back to view the ocean.
“Thanks. What do you do, Serena?”
“I’m a professor of literature at a small college in Kansas.”
A professor? Hell, she didn’t look old enough to be out of college yet, let alone be teaching at one. “No shit.”
She didn’t answer, seemingly miles away as she stared outside.
In profile, she was stunning. Hell, frontways, behind, sideways, she knocked his socks off. The face of an angel and the body of a seductress. A combo that would make any man’s cock stand at attention. His certainly was. Making it through the week with a constant hard-on wasn’t going to help his research one bit.
Then again, the protagonist of his newest book would be suffering severe sexual teasing from the femme fatale out to get him. Maybe it would be good research to be strung up tighter than a thinly stretched wire.
“I guess I should head downstairs and make some connections before all the single guys are taken for the week,” she sighed.
Suddenly, the thought of her making connections with any guy’s cock other than his irritated him. Big time.
But why? She wasn’t his. Hell, he barely knew her. But what he’d seen showed an intelligent, beautiful woman that maybe, just maybe, might fit the main femme fatale in his new book. He could always chalk it up to research.
Yeah, right. Any excuse to find out exactly what she wasn’t wearing under that tight little dress.
“Wait a second.” He stood and walked over to her.
She turned to him and offered a delicate smile. God, she was breathtaking. Just like the woman he envisioned as the murderer in his new book. Beautiful on the outside, vicious killer on the inside. His mind churned with plot ideas, thinking he’d just found the perfect model for his heroine.
“Is it too late to change my mind about your offer?”
She lifted a brow. “You mean…?”
He nodded. “The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced you might be the perfect woman to help me with research for my next book.”
She smiled, showing white, even teeth. “Oh, you mean it? I’d love that. I mean, I love your books; the characters are so psychotically perfect. I’ve studied your craft for years, Michael. I’d love to help.”
He laughed, and couldn’t help the tiny jolt of pride he felt that she thought so highly of his writing. “Thanks. But I didn’t mean just the research for the book.”
“I know that. You want to fuck me.”
There went his cock again, like a divining rod and she held the water source. “Yes. I want to fuck you. I want to do a lot of things with you. Are you game?”
She nodded. “Yes. And thank you, Michael. You won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” he replied, lifting a blonde curl. She gasped when his knuckles brushed the top of one burgeoning breast. Her skin was like soft butter. His cock was demanding attention. Patience, dammit. It’ll happen soon enough. Right now, he wanted to anticipate the moment when he revealed the secrets Serena barely hid underneath that scrap of dress.
“I have one condition, though,” he
said.
“What’s that?”
“This week between us is about sex. Physical pleasure only. No emotions. No involvement. And nothing goes beyond this week. When the party’s over, it’s over forever.”
She tilted her head to the side and her hair fell behind her back, giving him a clear view of that creamy neck. Damn he’d like to leave a few marks on that gorgeous throat of hers.
“Got it. Physical only. Sex only. No emotions. Exactly what I was thinking. You’ve got a deal, Michael.” Her body practically thrummed with the excitement that showed so clearly on her face. He could feel the vibrations already. So could his penis. He might have to get a hammer and beat the bastard into submission.
Which conjured up all kinds of visuals on how Serena could tame his wayward penis.
He nodded. “Let’s go downstairs and have a drink and see what fun they have in store for us this week.”
Michael followed her out, watching her perfect ass sway back and forth as she headed towards the lobby. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the only man in attendance tonight with a hard-on like a steel beam.
* * * * *
Serena couldn’t believe her good luck. She’d stumbled onto the perfect man for her foray into sexual paradise, and he’d just agreed to act as her stud for the week.
No, that sounded crass. But true. It wasn’t like this was the Dating Game. It was sex. Rowdy, public or private, in groups or one-on-one, any way you wanted it sex. And she had to get it straight in her mind. She couldn’t expect anything to come of this week except pure sexual enjoyment. Otherwise she’d be grossly disappointed.
Michael Donovan. Wow. She’d loved every single one of his books, read them with guilty pleasure in the privacy of her little apartment. She could only imagine what the university faculty would think if they knew she read erotic novels, especially ones like Michael wrote. Not only loaded with graphic sex, but psychopaths, serial killers, evil most profound. She inhaled his novels like she would forbidden fruit.
And did his writing ever turn her on. She’d masturbated to a few of his sex scenes before, vividly imagining the cop or agent who’d fallen under the spell of the beautiful, tormented, female with a body to die for and the psyche of a killer. Those scenes never failed to take her to new heights of sexual pleasure. Many times she had to muffle her screams as she came, knowing the walls of her apartment were too thin to be yelling out in ecstasy.
He had a wickedly sexual mind. Serena wondered if his mind traveled in those directions in his real life, or were those scenes he wrote about merely an exercise in literary creativity.
She’d bet he knew exactly what to do with a woman. Even more so than before, her excitement level grew in anticipation of the wild week ahead of her. Gone was mousy and plain Professor Graham. In her place, Sexy Siren Serena had materialized.
At least for the next week.
Michael led the way toward the throng of people already assembled in the resort lobby. Tropical flowers in tall urns decorated every corner of the dimly lit room. A huge bar sat against one wall, and the open deck on the ocean side blew a fragrant evening breeze inside the nearly packed room. Rattan tables and chairs circled the room, with plenty of space left over for standing and mingling.
The party was in full swing. People with drinks in hand were laughing and talking loudly. Hopeful and disappointed expressions could be seen in every group. There was even some graphic touching of women’s asses and palming of men’s crotches. Serena inhaled, mentally preparing herself for an adventure the likes of which she’d only dreamed.
Michael headed to the bar to get them drinks. Serena found an unoccupied table and grabbed two chairs. She hadn’t been alone for more than a minute when a good looking man approached her. In his early thirties, she’d estimate—roughly the same age as Michael. He had sandy blonde hair, brown eyes and quite a nice physique. Muscular and well built. She’d guess he was involved in athletics or sports of some kind.
“Hi,” he said, sliding into the seat she’d held for Michael. “My name is Steve.”
She shook the hand he offered. “Hi, Steve. I’m Serena.”
“This your first time here?”
“As a matter of fact it is. Why? Do I have that first-timer look about me?”
He laughed. “Nah. I come here a lot, so I know most of the regulars already.”
“Oh, I see.” He seemed like a decent enough guy. And if she hadn’t already finagled a week with Michael as her partner, she might have considered Steve. But as it was, she had a feeling she’d have her hands full with the man she selected.
Then again, the brochure said that swapping and multiple partners was welcomed and encouraged at the resort. Maybe for others, but she’d be happy to share some mind blowing sex with just one guy.
“So, have you partnered off with anyone yet?” he asked.
Serena nodded. “Yes, I have. As a matter of fact, here he comes now.”
Steve followed Serena’s gaze to Michael. She smiled, watching Michael frown as he approached the table and set down the drinks. Jealous, maybe? No, that couldn’t be it. Jealousy would imply emotional attachment to her, and he’d already made his “no emotion” speech.
“Michael, this is Steve.” She made the introductions, noticing the two men sizing each other up as they warily shook hands. This could be fun. She’d never had two guys vying for her before.
Michael shot her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. She couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or merely curious at Steve’s presence.
“So, you two have partnered off for the week?” Steve asked, vacating the chair.
Michael spoke first. “Yeah, we have.”
“Interested in a three-way?”
Oh my. Serena hadn’t thought of that before. Did she even want two men at once?
“No thanks,” Michael countered before she could say a word.
Guess not, then.
“No harm, no foul,” Steve said. “I’ll go scout out some other action. You two have fun this week.”
After he walked away, Michael sat and pulled his chair as close to Serena’s as physically possible. He was jealous. Or something. Either way, she liked it.
“Did you want a three-way with him?” he asked, his dark blue eyes focused intently on her.
Did she want one? She shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never had one.”
“Trust me. They’re not all that great.”
Interesting. She made a mental note to explore that conversation some other time.
“Attention everyone. Can I have your attention please?”
They turned to the makeshift dais where a gorgeous woman stood. Dressed in a flowing, tropical sarong, she was a true goddess. Her shoulder-length red hair seemed alive in the evening light, the spotlights’ glow showcasing her vivid blue eyes. Her body would make any man salivate. Full, high breasts, a tiny waist and slender hips. One long, tanned leg peeked out from a high slit in the side of her sarong.
“I’m Morgan Brown, the manager of Paradise Resort. Welcome to a week of passion, excitement, and any sexual adventure you could possibly desire.”
Serena shifted, feeling the rush of excitement as the week she’d scrimped and saved for was about to begin.
Morgan continued. “I’ll start with laying out a few ground rules. Really, there aren’t many, except to indulge your fantasies to your heart’s content. The only cardinal rule the resort holds is that if you are uncomfortable in any situation, the game stops. No one will force you to do anything you do not want to do.”
She paused for emphasis. “Anyone who pressures another guest or harms them in any way will be forever banned from the resort, and turned over to the local authorities. We take our guests’ safety very seriously here, and as long as the fun is mutual, you may enjoy yourselves with no limit.”
“Please take a moment to scan the brochure and form on the tables. Select your adventures for the week, and turn them in at the desk before you leave tonight. Tomorrow, th
e fun begins. Enjoy your stay at Paradise Resort, and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask me or one of the staff. “
Serena picked up the brochure, which described in great detail the different scenarios the resort offered. She supposed she’d need Michael’s input, too, since he would have to share them with her.
What were his sexual tastes? Did he prefer plain sex, or something out of the ordinary? Hopefully he wouldn’t want to do anything she found unpleasant.
“Let’s take a look and make our choices,” he suggested, his shoulder brushing against the side of her breast.
She inhaled, both anticipation and fear swirling inside her. She was about to embark on a sexual escapade with a complete stranger.
“Unless you’re incredibly kinky and enjoy extreme pain, I’d prefer to avoid Sadomasochistic Palace,” he said.
With a sigh of relief, Serena nodded. “I agree.”
“Why don’t you pick one, then I’ll pick one, and if we both agree, we’ll put it down for a daily activity?” he suggested.
“Good idea.”
“You first.”
Serena looked closely, that familiar shyness and uncertainty pounding like her rapidly beating heart. What if Michael laughed at her suggestion, or expressed shock at her choices? Well tough. She’d plunged head first into this adventure, and the time for hesitation was over.
“How about Voyeurism Venture?” she whispered, feeling silly for the heated blush that warmed her cheeks.
Michael smiled. “You like to watch?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I’ve never watched before, but I think I’d like to.”
“I’m game if you are,” he said, his voice taking on a seductively husky edge that made her nipples tingle. God, what would happen when he actually touched her, when they got naked together? Would she self combust on the spot?
Now it was Michael’s turn. “How about Everything Oral?”
Wetness formed between her legs the minute her mind registered exploring tongues, mouths and all forms of oral pleasures with the man sitting next to her. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and managed a squeaky, “Yes.”