Ocean of Love

by Susan D. Taylor

  The room opened up beyond the hall, the well-appointed living room with plush furniture, artwork, and vases of fresh flowers. A rich sensuality infused the ambiance of the house.

  “I do now. More than you can imagine.” He voice hung in the air.

  He came to her, taking hold of her wrist, and drew her over the floor, stopping in front of the sofa. He smoothed the hair from her face, rubbing his thumb along her jaw, tormenting her millimeter by millimeter. This time she didn’t bite her lip but relaxed her mouth, willing something sexy to come out.

  “There’s no need to keep hiding. Marissa, I want you. I’ve done what you requested. When Sinclair calls back with the seller’s acceptance, you won’t be able to hide behind the loophole of being my business acquaintance, sweetheart. No longer forced apart by reports and contracts or your sense of professional ethics.”

  “Pony up. Is that what you’re basically saying?”

  “No pony. Just you. Only you.” His face loomed before her, his lips hovered above her mouth, his breath swept over her face. He lightly kissed her. She tumbled into the sensation of his mouth upon hers, and the heat pouring off his body.

  “Drink?” He whispered against her lips. “I promised you a nightcap. And we need a vase for the flowers.”

  “In the kitchen? Do you want me to get one?”

  “No, just make yourself at home. What would you like to drink?”

  Whatever you’re having.” Her own rapid heartbeat clouded her thinking. She visually followed his progress down the hall. Alone in the elaborate room, she moved toward the terrace doorway. He’d just left the doors wide open. She shook her head. Who in this day and age did such things? Stepping outside, she marveled at the patio and yards of beach in front of her. The moonlight reflected from the water and sand, even the powder-coated furniture gleamed. Her body didn’t know which way to turn—back toward the house or run headlong into the ocean. Marissa’s heartbeat struck hard and heavy.

  Wyatt’s voice tangled in her thoughts and drew her. She wanted him, glancing back at the waves. Soon was all she thought, fighting the roil in her bloodstream.

  He carried the roses into the room and set them on the cocktail table. “Lady’s choice. There’s a fully stocked bar. What about a glass of champagne perhaps?”

  “To celebrate?” Her overheated brain didn’t want to think in terms of words. Her whole body quivered, her pulse set the tempo, and needy pulsations thrummed between her thighs.

  “Sit and we’ll celebrate, as you say.” He smiled. “A sweet idea.”

  Sinking down onto the plush cushions of the sofa, she crossed her legs, attempting to control the sparks he’d incited, ready to turn inferno.

  Wyatt moved toward the far side of the room, stopping to light several candles. He turned off a few of the table lamps arranged throughout the room.

  “Would you like to see the terrace? Perhaps the most outstanding feature of this house. Until now, of course.”

  She clutched her throat. “I took the liberty while you were gone. Magnificent.” The surf only yards away, continued sending a song strong enough to tempt her in another direction. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Behind the bar, set into the wall, was a well-stocked wine cooler. He pulled out a bottle of Perrier-Jouët. She’d been around enough closings to recognize fine champagne, only this time she was certain the celebration had nothing to do with real estate. She was torn between giving in to her longings, doing things she desperately wanted to experience with the only man who made her feel attractive and somewhat protected. The idea was crazy, like trusting a lion to keep from harming prey.

  She traced a line on the arm of sofa. Could she be happy if she gave up this chance? She glanced across the room at Wyatt. She didn’t know what would be worse, to taste the apple or keep on going, unaware and ignorant. And then there was her need to return to the ocean.

  Wyatt would more than likely want to leave South Beach as soon as his deal was sealed. Sure, he’d come back to oversee the construction progress, but that’s not what he was all about. She’d learned as much. It was all about the thrill of the chase. Nothing long-term here from what she could tell. Uncanny. It all boiled down to one night, one man, one full-moon swim.

  “Are you chilly? Or anxious?” He crossed the room carrying a bottle until he stood directly in front of her. He tilted up her chin. “Marissa, I don’t want you to be nervous.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” She rubbed her face against his hand, cupping her hand over his.

  His eyes flickered before he returned the bottle. “I think I know just the answer. Instead of champagne, let’s try something different. Brandy. To take the chill off.”

  Sinclair was right about Wyatt’s eagle eyes. “A traditional nightcap.” She nodded. The proximity of Wyatt’s body hummed or vibrated on a level that flowed over her, undressing her of fear and distrust, opening her to the possibility of what lay between them. The part of her being, the one usually forced to act as sentinel, dissolved.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She sat on the edge of the cushion and plucked this month’s edition of Fortune from the cocktail table. His company was listed in an article; one she’d already read. She thumbed through the pages, unable to concentrate, and replaced the magazine on the table. Her senses were sharp-edged this close to the rise of the full moon. Her breath came in rapid bursts.

  He pulled two snifters from the shelf, and liberally poured three fingers of toffee-colored liquor into each glass.

  She gazed around the room, aware that he was whistling a low thread of a tune. Her pulse zipped, making it impossible to remain seated. She crossed the room slowly.

  He swirled the brandy in each snifter, leaving amber rings along the inside of the glass. The aroma of chocolate, dried fruit, and aged liquor spread across the air.

  He handed her a glass. “Here’s to getting what you desire.”

  “And enjoying what we reap.” She tapped her glass against his, fighting to sip instead of gulp the fiery alcohol.

  The sweet stickiness of the brandy lifted into a flavor of dry wood. The biting alcohol burned her mouth. Her throat convulsed, bringing tears to her eyes. She held her breath, allowing the blaze to settle. The brandy’s effect ignited her to near combustion. She shivered as the tiny hairs along her skin stood up in attention.

  “Feel better now?” His voice tantalized her.

  Her senses soared. The pound of the surf, the whisper of the winds, and Wyatt’s pulse spread over her own body. He stood so close to her, the cascade of his exhalation drifted along her shoulder. Her nipples tightened, peaks of pleasure aching for his touch.

  “Take your hair down,” he said in a roughly.

  She set her glass on the table. With shaky fingers, she removed the pins one by one from her hair. Excitement coursed through her veins, singing loudly as the pulsations between her thighs unfurled into a storm, a long time in coming.

  “My God, you’re so beautiful,” Wyatt murmured at the same time the last pin slipped from her fingers. There was no thought, no plan, nothing except giving in to a consuming desire. Her hair fell about her shoulders. She shook her head, spilling her long tresses over her chest and back in rippling curls. He slipped his hand into her hair, weaving wavy tendrils around his fingers.

  “I’ve waited all day to do this.” He groaned from behind a clenched jaw.

  He drained the last of his brandy, set his glass down, and his mouth sought hers. Hungry, powerful, searching. He buried his hands further in her hair, and held her tightly against him. His teeth nipped at the seam of her lips, forcing her mouth apart, and he devoured her in one deep kiss.

  She gave into him. Trusting and diving. Kissing him reminded her of swimming in a warm ocean. Floating, soothing, exciting. She savored the taste of his mouth, the texture of his lips. His kiss ignited her desire.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he moaned over the buzzing from his pocket. He pressed a quick kiss onto her lips, shredding her w
ill power. “It’s Sinclair.”

  She held onto to him, pressing her forehead against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of Wyatt into her body.

  He held the phone up to his ear. “Sinclair, what’s the word?” Harsh cords within his voice pulled tight.

  He ran his hand down her back, settling on her hip, and making her tremble. She lifted her head, meeting his decadent smile. His heated, raw gaze was composed of a predatory glimmer cutting into her deep. The effect was a chemical combustion in her body.

  Wyatt moved against her, trailing his fingers under her jacket, along her waist. She sucked in a breath, expanding her chest, lifting her breasts, tightening the tips.

  All the while his commanding eyes didn’t leave her face. His hand moved around her hip, moved downward forcing her up against his hard body.

  “Good job. I want you to handle the closing package details. Miss Silverpointe proved excellent in her capacity. The next phase rests in your hands. No mistaking this Sinclair, I expect you and Hannah to take care of the remaining details. Marissa’s part is done. Exit her from the project so she’s not held up. No sense if she can be freed… I think the dismal closing details are better suited to someone else. I’m immensely pleased with her contribution. Communicate with Jason, my attorney, or his law clerk, tie up the loose ends, and get that closing completed. Simple.”

  Red-hot anger shot through her already tense body. She was pulled into a taut bow ready to find a target. Wyatt hung up, raw power seeping from within him, converging within her body, and still she couldn’t contain her outrage.

  “Removing me in my capacity at this stage? I should be the one to decide and relay that to my boss. Not be yanked off.” She felt her face heat and her body began to shake. She’d rather walk out the front door and never, ever, lay eyes on him again than be disrespected in this fashion. “I’m more than insulted.”

  His face remained impassive, even though his voice crept toward her in a low growl. “Sweetheart, that’s not a slight where you’re concerned. My God, even with your back against some imaginary wall, you’re a sight. I’ve no intention of wasting another moment of your precious life on such insignificant details—”

  She cut him off. “To you, Wyatt. I’m so sorry my work as a realtor is less than exciting. Well, no harm done. You’ll be on a plane to God-knows-where, now that you’re finished. Another day and you’ll be free.”

  “I’m not free. Just the opposite.” He moved so fast she didn’t have time to duck. He took hold of her and kissed her quiet.

  She pushed against him, making him tighten his grasp. “Don’t fight what we’ve got. I’m not letting you go that easily.” He kissed her, his mouth melted over hers while he secured her to him, his body bending her backward, taking his time. Sucking her lips, he coaxed her to allow him entry. He moved against her, holding her next to him, inch by inch, finding the way they fit.

  His tongue leisurely explored her mouth until she relaxed, opened up to him, moaning against his mouth. “Oh, God.” She clung to him, desire pooling between her legs.

  His hand cupped her cheek. He pulled away not more than a fraction of an inch. “I was talking about the details of my stupid business deal. Not your career. I’ve more important things to entertain you with my darling. No way am I showing up with you tomorrow at some office. I’ve no intention of leaving this house for the next week if I can get you upstairs. Let’s face it, we’re through with business unless it involves you and me naked. I don’t care about developing anything except a relationship with you. I want you. Only you.”

  She closed her eyes, lodged between desire and anger. He lowered his mouth, trailing his lips over her neck. His mouth made meticulous work of her sensitive skin up and down her neck. He sucked, nuzzled, licked his way back to her mouth.

  As though stunned by his hot lips, she let go of being upset. Her emotional steam and heat were funneled back into her ache to submit to him. She had boxed up her hunger of him for hours and her yearning erupted into volcanic proportions. She clung to him, tilting her head slightly, giving him better access. She molded her body up against him, giving into his mouth. His hands. Her desire.

  “You’re on fire. Damn, I want to feel you naked up against me.” He kissed her temple then pressed light kisses across her forehead down to the tip of her nose. He reclaimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue across her lips, kissing her harder, with a fierce possession. “I can’t help wanting you. I won’t apologize for moving this fast.”

  Her fingers crawled up his arms as if holding on for dear life.

  “No, not too fast,” she breathed out. Wyatt’s mouth and hands created amazing sensations within her. She wanted more of him. Much more. She pressed her mouth against his, opening up to him, letting him take command. Their movements required no thoughts or words and bordered on savage need.

  “I could kiss you all night,” he murmured as he pulled slightly away. “Come with me upstairs.”

  She nodded and he lifted her into his arms. He carried her up two steps at a time. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, watched as the chandelier curved high above her head. They moved upward until he stepped into the second floor hallway. His grasp tightened, setting off sparks across her skin. She traced his angular jaw and touched the ends of his hair, nearly coming to the top of his collar.

  His gaze locked with hers. “I will taste every inch of your body.” His I’ll-take-whatever-the–hell-I-want attitude percolated between her legs.

  She didn’t want to deny him anything and pushed back her fear. She was on a collision course with no way to stop. He crossed the hall into a room. Double doors were swung wide open on the opposite side of this bedroom. Another open terrace. The music from below mixed with the sound of the sea and waves floating in the air.

  He set her on top of the bed. A smooth, down comforter lay under her fingertips. He silently stroked her face before running his hand down her neck, over her shoulder, tracing a line down her arm. He lifted her fingertips up to his mouth before he turned her hand over, opening her fingers. He pressed warm lips against her palm. Decadent. The feel of his hot mouth on her skin sent a jolt of aching need between her legs. She moaned, pinching the silky comforter with her other hand.

  He stepped away from the bed to close the hall doors, and then turned back to her. She watched him unbutton his shirt. She feasted upon the grooved pectoral muscles she’d explored with her hands downstairs. He pulled the material off his shoulders, shrugging out from his shirtsleeves. She inhaled, taking in his upper body was a magnificent, muscular work of art. Her gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants, making her suddenly painfully aware, he and his intentions were real.

  “Are you sure? About us? I mean you’re so….” Huge she nearly panted.

  “I’m not thinking about me. You’re still dressed.” He made her gulp. He stood next to the bed and ran his fingers up her arm. Then his knee was next to her hip, the mattress dipping under his weight. Low lighting was cast from nightstands on either side of the bed, and he tracked her glance.

  Her eyes widened, and her stomach knotted. A tight quiver unfurled across her body. “Wyatt, I’m…” She didn’t know how to tell him about being less than experienced.

  “I want to see you. You’re such a beauty. Let me undress you. Piece by piece.”

  She glanced down, lacing her fingers together. “Please Wyatt. I’m shy. This is new to me.” She turned her head away, unable to form the right words.

  He drew her body to him, stroking her hair, and bent his head, brushing his mouth over her lips, peppering her jaw with gentle kisses. He raised his head. “We’ll get to know each other. Soon enough we’ll be anything but strangers.”

  Marissa swallowed and tried to smile. “That’s not exactly what I meant. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Never?” He stopped moving.

  She nodded, looking into his eyes. They had widened into footballs filled with a look of disbelief, and then he attempted to
speak but coughed. He tried again, only this time she didn’t quite capture his rapid-fire utterance.

  “What do you mean? Exactly?” He moved from the bed, tunneling a hand through his hair. He swung around, returning to the bedside. “Never. Not once. You’re a…” his voice trailed off.

  Her stomach hurt from holding her breath and she exhaled the word, “Virgin. Yes. I am.”

  Tears nearly assaulted her eyes. She blinked away a cloud of humiliation, of being inexperienced, and unsophisticated. He faced away from her. His fingers interlaced behind his head. She sat upright hugging her knees, staring down at the bed.

  “It’s not like it’s contagious.” Her voice cracked. Wyatt spun around, crossing to the bed, and flung himself over her.

  “You’re a treasure. Who in this day and age can say they’re fascinating, beautiful, a business woman, and perfect?” He raised her palm and slid a kiss across the skin of her hand. He pulled her against his chest, cradling her head, and kissing her hair. “Baby, I’m crazy for you.”

  She plucked one of his belt loops, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat. Her pulse raced and wove together with his. “Do you still want to have sex with me?” she asked in a small voice.

  He lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “No.” That one word resembled a growl, grinding its way from his chest. “No, my darling, I’m not going to have sex with you.”

  Chapter Ten

  He had no idea of what to do first. Sex didn’t come to mind as he’d previously planned. Not hard, mind-blowing sex. Well, not at first. He had to make her feel secure. All this time he had imagined doing everything to her. Dominating every part of her body. Hell, he almost took her to an alley to fuck her up against a wall. Real smooth.

  He pulled her gently into his arms. “Tonight you’re giving me a gift. I fully intend on showing you how much I treasure this precious moment.”

  She nodded, appearing even more innocent. More desirable. And his.

  “Your first experience is what you’ll always remember. I’m willing to take as much time as you need. But we will make love if not history.”