Treat her Right: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  The time before, after the party, she’d enjoyed every moment, and she’d wanted it rough and fast—she’d even pushed him to go harder. But although it had been satisfying, it had been like a cup of espresso—an intense, one-shot boost for instant gratification. It had been great, a concentrated hit that had taken the edge off her hunger, but afterward she’d wished they’d made it into a latte.

  And Joss had obviously felt the same. Because this time, he seemed determined to take it slow. He dipped his head to kiss her or to stroke one of her nipples with his tongue, then returned to moving slowly and rhythmically, drawing out their pleasure as long as he could. Each time her muscles began to tighten, he stopped moving and kissed her until her ragged breathing slowed. Then he began again, until she felt as if her whole body was one huge erogenous zone, and she couldn’t bear it any longer.

  He appeared to be struggling too, his breathing short and harsh. When he took her hands and pinned them above her head, his fingers were tight on hers, showing how hard he was trying to hold on. His thrusts became longer apart, as if each movement of his hips was too much, and he knew it was only a matter of time before one of the thrusts would be his undoing.

  Her body ached for fulfilment, for that final sweep of pleasure, but still he withheld it from her, leaving her teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

  “Joss…” she begged, trying to move her hips against his. “Please…”

  His eyes were intense, dark blue like a stormy sky, and all humor had long since faded from his features. “Don’t…” he reproached her as she writhed beneath him. “This is fucking amazing.” His hands tightened on hers even more.

  She stopped moving and tried to hold on as his lips brushed hers. She managed a few more of his agonizingly slow thrusts, fighting to stave off the hovering pleasure. But it was no good. He was too gorgeous, and he’d already made her hold on longer than she’d ever been able to before.

  “I can’t…” she gasped, and she gave in to the orgasm that had been hovering for an eternity, waiting in the wings to sweep her away. Her muscles clenched, and she cried out as she pulsed around him.

  Joss captured her gasps with his mouth, plunging his tongue inside, and Maisey spiraled away into bliss. Vaguely, as if she’d dived into a deep swimming pool that muffled all her senses, she was aware of him swelling inside her, his hips jerking as he climaxed. She moaned as he pushed so deeply inside her she thought he might split her in two. He didn’t stop though, barely moving as he came, filling her, stretching her. She’d never felt anything like it, and they clung together, tight in their ecstasy, rigid with gratification.

  As she drifted back to earth, she marveled at the way they’d surrendered themselves to their bodies, becoming just slow, leisurely, heightened sensation. She’d not known it could be like that before, where every nerve ending seemed sensitive, and where the lightest touch could tip her over the edge.

  She opened her eyes. He was smiling, and as her eyelids fluttered open, he kissed her.

  “I love you,” she said without thinking. The words just fell out, like apples rolling from an open carrier bag.

  Shit.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Joss kissed Maisey’s nose. “I love you too.” She was such a sweetie. Lying there with her just-fucked hair and her flushed cheeks, she looked adorable, young, and fresh.

  She studied him with her serious hazel eyes, and he chuckled and kissed her, wondering if she’d been as blown away by the sex as he was. Still inside her, he moved his hips, reveling in the sensation of being enveloped in her hot, velvet warmth, and grinning as her lips parted and she gave a little gasp.

  There wasn’t such a thing as bad sex, in his opinion. It was always a pleasurable experience, one he never grew tired of. In his younger days, when he’d had the occasional one-night stand at uni, he’d still appreciated the woman had offered to share herself with him, and had accepted the compliment that she’d chosen him for the night above whatever else was on offer.

  Still, there was sex, and then there was great sex. And what had just taken place with Maisey definitely fell into the latter category.

  Like most men, he supposed, he wasn’t a great fan of candles and wine and spending hours getting in the mood. He was always in the mood, or nearly always anyway. He enjoyed foreplay, loved oral sex, and it was definitely important to him to ensure his partner had a good time. But if pushed, he’d happily have admitted that fast, rough sex was at the top of his list.

  However, the slow, sensual way they’d just made love had jumped right up to number one. He’d wanted to make it slow, but he hadn’t expected to enjoy it quite as much as he had. It had felt as if they were swimming in melted chocolate, bathed in the early afternoon sun, her damp skin sticking to his with the cool air of the fan on his back. She’d been swollen and wet from her previous orgasm, but still tight around him, and their slow, sensual movements, the slight rock of her hips, the scrape of her nails down his back, the swell of her nipples in his mouth, the taste of salt on his tongue—it had all been amazing. He’d never drawn out his climax like that before, and he made a mental note definitely to do it again.

  She blinked slowly as if her eyelids were heavy, and he chuckled and kissed her again. “Lazy Maisey.”

  “Can you blame me?” she protested. “You’ve worn me out.”

  He grinned and withdrew, disposed of the condom, then rolled onto his back and pulled her into his arms. “I can’t have worn you out. We barely moved.”

  “I feel as if I’ve run a marathon.” She yawned and curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder. “I should get going. It’s after lunch, and I’m lying here starkers like an Egyptian whore at an orgy.”

  His answering yawn turned into a chuckle. “Why Egyptian?”

  “Dunno. I feel like a cat. They thought cats were gods.”

  “And cats have never forgotten it.” He stroked her back, fingers skating over her hip. His eyelids felt heavy too. “Didn’t Cleopatra bathe in asses’ milk or something?”

  “I didn’t know asses had milk.”

  “Lady asses, I’m guessing.” He was almost asleep.

  “You have a nice ass.” She giggled.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.” He gave her rump a slap. “You too.”

  She mumbled something, but he was drifting away, and he didn’t hear what it was.

  *

  He woke about an hour later, turned his head, and saw Maisey was still asleep. He studied her affectionately. She’d moved a little away from him, probably because it was so warm. She lay on her front, her arms tucked beneath her, her face turned toward him. Her lips were slightly apart, her cheeks touched with pink, and her hair lay in a fan across the pillow.

  When he’d carried her into the bedroom, he’d wondered whether he’d end up regretting it and feeling guilty again. But he just felt pleased he’d taken the time to show her how good it could be.

  She was such a light spirit, he thought, reaching out to stroke her cheek with a finger. One day, she would make someone a lovely wife. He remembered how she’d looked holding the Maggot, in awe of the baby in her arms, the way all new mothers must look when they realize what a miracle they’d produced.

  Something stirred inside Joss, a deep longing he hadn’t experienced before. Marriage and kids had always been for other, older men, something he thought he might do one day when he was Respectable and Grown Up, ready to Settle Down. He wasn’t religious and had never been sure of the benefits of marriage. Even at the craziest, most passionate time with Ana, he’d not reached a moment where he’d been convinced he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and only her.

  But for the first time ever, he could see the appeal of putting a ring on a girl’s finger. Branding her as his own. Telling every other guy out there, Hands off, she’s mine! He’d never had sex without a condom, too scared of knocking a girl up or getting a disease to even consider it, but for the first time he wondered how it would feel with
out barriers, knowing at any time he might be making a tiny person inside her. A son, or a baby girl with his eyes and her hair…

  He rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Jesus. What was wrong with his brain? Two quick fucks and he had them walking down the aisle and having six kids. That was so not going to happen. First, he had too much on his plate to even think about going serious. Second, if he did go serious with anyone, it wasn’t going to be with a girl who—sexy though she might be—still knew what was number one on the music charts, wore onesies to bed, and painted each toenail a different color. And third, it wouldn’t be with the girl he’d promised his best mate he wouldn’t let anyone’s barge pole touch, let alone his own.

  Wondering whether some of her craziness was rubbing off on him, he sat up and stood as quietly as he could without waking her, slipped on his boxers, and walked to the doorway. He stopped there and turned around to look at her. She lay naked, her skin glowing a warm cream in the sunlight. He could see the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist, and the beautiful roundness of her bottom; she’d hooked up a leg to expose her pale inner thigh, and he imagined sliding his hand up that thigh to stroke beneath her. She’d still be warm, swollen, and slippery, and he could arouse her again until she was ready for him. He could push her up onto all fours and take her from behind, or pull her on top of him, and let her ride him home.

  He turned and walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and stood there for a moment, letting the cold air waft over him. He’d only meant it to happen once, and the second time had been great, but definitely the last.

  The phone rang. He extracted a can of soda and popped the top, took a long glug on the way to picking up the receiver, and then pressed the button. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” said his mother.

  “Hey.” Unable to stop himself, Joss walked back to the doorway into his bedroom and leaned on the post. Maisey had stirred and rolled onto her back. She lay with her arms above her head, her plump breasts with their soft pinky brown nipples begging him to go over and suck them to a peak with his mouth. He could even see the strip of hair that invited him to trail a finger down between her legs.

  Mumbling beneath his breath, he turned away again and forced himself to concentrate on what his mother was saying. “Sorry, what?”

  “…I know you’re always so busy,” Sarah was saying, “I hate bothering you.”

  “That’s okay, I’m not busy.” He willed his erection to go away. “What’s up?”

  “It’s your dad. I woke up from my nap and he’s gone. He left the front door wide open and just walked out.” Her voice quivered; she was near to tears.

  Joss closed his eyes. No need to concentrate on getting rid of his erection now—that had completely done the trick. “Okay. I’ll come over.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice low. “I thought about ringing the police, but he could be around the corner. I’m so sorry to bother you, Joss.”

  “You’re not bothering me.” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Honestly. That’s what I came back for, Mum. That’s what families do—we look out for each other. God knows you did enough for me when I was growing up. It’s only right I get to pay you back for some of the worry you went through.”

  “You were never a worry,” she said softly. “You’ve always been a lovely boy. I hope you find yourself a nice girl who’ll look after you.”

  He thought about Maisey in the next room, who could barely look after herself, let alone a family. “That’s not high on my list of priorities right now.”

  “It should be.”

  “Mum… I’ll get dressed, and then I’ll be over.”

  “Dressed? Were you in the shower?”

  “No, I…” Even as a kid, he’d been unable to lie to his mother. “Er…”

  “Just come when you can.” Her voice held a hint of a smile, and she said goodbye.

  He hung up and rubbed his brow. Where would his father have gone? Suddenly, it seemed too warm in the room. He had a headache forming, and the pleasant mood of the afternoon had been ruined.

  “What’s up?”

  Maisey stood in the doorway. She’d wrapped the duvet around her and looked like a goddess, her hair tumbling across her shoulders and one bare leg showing. More than anything he wanted to lose the duvet, carry her back into the bedroom, and make love to her all afternoon.

  He walked past her, picked up his jeans, and pulled them on. “I’m really sorry. I know this sounds terribly rude, but I have to go.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “It’s my parents.” He zipped up his jeans and grabbed a clean T-shirt from the drawer. “Dad’s gone walkabout, and Mum’s worried.”

  “Oh no.” Maisey dropped the quilt and flipped it onto the bed, then picked up her panties and slipped them on. “Does she have any idea where he’s gone?”

  “No. I doubt it’s far—it’s not the first time, and he rarely goes more than a mile or so.” He tugged the T-shirt over his head.

  She pulled on her jeans then quickly put on her bra. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, just worried.” He rolled the T-shirt down and watched Maisey run around the bed to find her shirt. “Don’t rush. You’re welcome to stay here for a while. I can leave you the key and you can lock up when you go.”

  She found her shirt, put it on, and hastily buttoned it up. “What are you talking about? I’m coming with you.”

  He walked over to her, caught her hands, and moved them away. Like a toddler, she’d missed one button at the bottom, and the two sides were uneven. He undid the buttons, then did them up again properly. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you’ll be fine. I thought it might be nice if I sat with your mum while you look for your dad.”

  He hesitated. He hadn’t thought of that. Sarah knew Maisey and liked her, and she would probably appreciate the company while she waited for Noel to come home.

  Still…he didn’t want Maisey to feel obligated because they’d slept together. “Seriously,” he tried, “I’m sure I’ll find him quickly and then she won’t—”

  “I’m coming with you.” She pushed his hands away and started to gather her hair into a knot with a band she took from the pocket of her jeans. “Come on.”

  He watched her walk out of the room, still hesitant to let her go with him. He didn’t need help. He could cope on his own, and although he’d enjoyed the time they’d spent together, he didn’t want her to think this was anything serious.

  Then he sighed. She was a friend, and she’d be concerned about his parents. She would have offered to help regardless of whether they’d slept together.

  He walked out, tugged on his shoes, and picked up his keys. She already stood by the door, her bag in her hand. He went up to her, then put a hand on the door as she went to open it.

  He looked down into her large hazel eyes. “I…” His voice faltered, and he couldn’t think what to say.

  Her lips curved. “I know. Thank you too.”

  He smiled back. She understood. Relief washed over him, and he bent and kissed her on the cheek, then opened the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maisey followed Joss’s car back to town. All the way, she tried to concentrate on Noel Heaven and what poor Sarah must be going through, but each time her brain kept coming back to Joss and what they’d done that afternoon.

  Her body felt post-sex exhausted—her thighs and hips ached, and she felt a little sore underneath. Her hair was a mess, and she’d forgotten to apply lipstick so her lips were swollen and dry. Vivid images swam through her head like fish in a tank; of Joss’s bright blue eyes fixed on hers, his strong, muscular body as he leaned over her, and the few minutes she’d spent watching him sleep before she’d dozed off herself.

  She bit her lip as she remembered blurting out the words, “I love you.” Horror had knifed through her, but to her relief he’d taken it as a typical Maisey-ism, the kind of ph
rase she threw away ten times a day: Thanks, sexy; Hey, gorgeous! Love you! “Love you, too,” he’d said, completely missing the fact that the words had tumbled not from her head but from her heart.

  She’d tried to ignore it, and had made light of the situation as he’d rolled her into his arms, but inside, her stomach had churned. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t have. They’d only had sex twice, and she’d known him forever, for God’s sake. She hadn’t learned anything new about him from sleeping with him. It wasn’t as if she’d had a huge revelation. It had all been entirely physical—amazing, true, but merely physical. Just body parts touching.

  She couldn’t have fallen in love with him.

  His car slowed as they met the highway, and she pulled up behind him. She could see the back of his head, his wide shoulders. He had one hand on the wheel, the elbow of the other arm on the window ledge, and his fingers rested on his lips as he waited for a car to pass before pulling out. She thought she saw him glance in his rear view mirror at her, but she couldn’t be sure.

  She followed him, trying to keep calm. Why had things changed? She hadn’t meant this to happen. She’d wanted to loosen him up, that was all, and have a bit of fun. She’d thought it would be something to giggle about with the girls, a few memories to take with her into later life. But she hadn’t expected to…feel anything except excitement and hopefully a bit of physical pleasure.

  He signaled and turned off for the road to his parents, and Maisey followed, her heart in her mouth. She had to ignore what she was feeling. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere. He had enough on his plate at the moment; the last thing he needed was her tagging along behind him begging for affection like a golden retriever.

  Joss pulled up outside his parents’ house, and Maisey parked behind him. They went up to the front door, and Joss opened it with his key.

  The long, low house had been adapted to make it easier for Sarah Heaven to move around in her wheelchair. Built on one level, the house was open plan, and the only doors were on the bedrooms and bathrooms. The wide corridors, large spaces, and minimal furniture gave her plenty of room to maneuver, and as they walked in, she appeared around the corner from her bedroom.