"Ted was the one, it didn't work out. I'm not going to make that mistake again, ever!"
A short pause followed her announcement. “We'll see, sweetie, we'll see."
Shelly cried, exasperated, “Grandma, please!"
Her grandmother chortled, “Just because Ted was a good-looking low-life doesn't mean this one is. Remember that, sweetie."
Shelly sighed. “How come everyone seems to think that Ted's a low-life now that I'm no longer with him? First Claire, my brother and then you."
"Oh, we always did, dear,” her grandmother assured. “But you had to find that lesson out for yourself."
Shelly pinched the tender skin between her brows. Great, everybody in her family, except her mother who believed the sun shined out Ted's butt, had thought she'd been dating a low-life. Why the hell couldn't they have said something? It might have saved her a lot of heartache.
Madge coughed and said, “I read the tealeaves in my cup and they predicted a new man would be coming into your life, dear."
Shelly rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly, Gran, you know I don't believe in all that baloney."
"The tealeaves never lie,” her grandma said firmly. “So if you know what's good for you, you'll give this new man a chance, dear. I've got a good feeling about him in my old bones."
Shelly sighed. “Okay, I'll try."
"Promise?"
"I promise, Grandma."
* * * *
Shelly had just hung up the receiver when the doorbell chimed. Giving her hair one last glance in the mirror, she left the bedroom. Pausing to take a deep breath, she opened the door.
Guy, dressed in his faded Levi's and a red shirt, grinned at her and thrust a huge bouquet of orchids into her arms. “For the beautiful lady."
"Thanks.” Shelly pushed the memory of another bouquet of orchids, her wedding bouquet which she'd watched burn to a cinder, from her mind. She headed to the kitchen, concentrating instead on how good Guy looked. He looked good enough to eat. The problem was, she didn't know what part of him she would like to eat first. Would it be his long well-made legs, his incredible butt, his cock or his sensuous mouth? She was becoming hotter by the minute. Praying he wouldn't notice, she busied herself fixing the flowers. She didn't have a vase, so she pulled down two pint glasses from the cupboard. They'd just have to do. The thought crossed her mind for the third time in sixty seconds, perhaps they should just spend a quiet night in.
"Do you want anything to drink?” she asked over her shoulder, her fingers never leaving the flowers she was seemingly intent on arranging.
Guy declined. Leaning his hip against the counter, he studied her. Her slender back was turned to him. Under her white dress, he could quite clearly see the outline of her thong. He sighed and blew the curls off his forehead. Perhaps they should just spend the night in.
Shelly placed the vase on the kitchen table, and made one final adjustment to an orange orchid, which insisted on drooping, before peeping up at him. “So where are we off to tonight?"
Guy straightened up, uncrossing his arms. The lady really did want to go out and party and he wasn't about to disappoint her. “Well, I've got nothing planned, as such,” he admitted guiltily.
Shelly looked down at the floor while she tried not to smile. Perhaps she really would get her cozy night in, after all.
Guy, taking her reaction as one of disappointment, assured, “But I'm sure between the pair of us, we'll be able to come up with something to get the night rolling."
Shelly smiled dutifully. If he wanted to go out that badly, then she would go. “I'll just grab my shawl,” she said, injecting the right amount of excitement into her voice.
Guy nodded and watched her hurry through to the bedroom. Damn it! He could have picnicked quite nicely with her there and then, on the bed with strawberries and cream—naked, of course.
He was still grinning at the thought, when Shelly returned. “What are you so happy about?"
"Oh, nothing.” He shook his head and helped her with her shawl.
Tilting her head back, Shelly looked up at him with raised brows. His expression revealed nothing, shrugging, she picked up her key and opened the door. They both tried to walk through it at the same time, and got caught in a tussle in the middle.
"Ladies first.” Guy smiled down at her.
Shelly laughed. “Oh, no. Age before beauty, I insist."
"Watch it,” he growled and caught her up in his arms. “I'm not much older than you."
"Oh really? Some people would say that ten years is quite a difference, you know."
"Well I'm not one of them.” He lowered his mouth, brushing it lightly against hers. “Are you?” When she didn't answer, he stroked his tongue over her closed lips. “Well, are you?"
Shelly wrapped her arms around his hips. “N ... no."
"What?” he asked, taking his thumb and prying her lips apart, before shoving his tongue deep in her mouth. “I can't hear you."
Shelly shivered, weak in the knees with wanting him. “I said, no, ten years is not so much of a difference, really."
Guy grunted his agreement and pushed her up against the doorframe, his large hands beginning to explore her body.
"Guy if you've got what I think you've got in mind, then we should go inside."
He broke off nibbling her ear and looked down at her from his great height. “But I thought you had your heart set on going out tonight?"
She admitted sheepishly, “Truth is, I really just wanted to stay in. I didn't say anything because I thought you really wanted to do something this evening."
Guy's mouth quirked with wry amusement. “I wanted to stay in as well."
Shelly giggled. “I think we really need to start to work on our communication, don't you?"
He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tan. “Why don't we start by learning how to better understand each other's body language?"
Shelly giggled again and pushed the hand sneaking up her dress away. “I think you've had quite enough practice in that department to last a lifetime, mister."
He licked her ear and murmured, “I disagree, let's go to bed and find out."
Shelly barely nodded. A thousand flames fanned out over her body, burning her, stirring her, as they pooled into the molten zone between her thighs where she ached for him.
Just as his arms tightened around her, and he breathed gently into her ear, her stomach growled violently.
Guy straightened up and chortled, “Okay, let me rephrase that. Let's eat, then go to bed and experiment."
Shelly, blushing beautifully, swung the front door closed, before taking his hand and pulling him through to the small kitchen. “I don't have much really, just some bread and things, I'm paying all-inclusive, so—” she shrugged.
"No matter, we can eat at my place. I think I can stretch a bit further than bread.” He grabbed her hand, whisked her out of the kitchen, and taking the key from her, closed the door. They walked hand in hand along the beach through the humid air, giggling like idiots, enjoying the beauty of the tropical evening, comfortable in each other's company.
Shelly put her free hand in the back pocket of his faded Levi's. Distracted by his shapely posterior, she couldn't resist a squeeze of his magnificent butt. Inadvertently, she let her fingers brush against the skin of his back as she stroked upwards beneath his T-shirt. She felt Guy tense.
"You know,” Guy said, looking down at her. “That would feel a whole lot better if we were naked."
Shelly, even as a blush crept into her hairline, boldly agreed, “True. Tell me, will I need my toothbrush tonight?"
Guy looked down at her from his great height. “Yep, but don't worry. I've got a spare."
Shelly only half-jokingly asked, “Am I honored or do you give all your lady friends a toothbrush?"
He kissed her forehead. “Only the special ones."
Shelly frowned and looked down at the golden ribbed sand. She wasn't sure if he was joking. It was impossible to tel
l sometimes with the man; but one thing was for sure, for her own piece of mind, she would have to get the toothbrush issue sorted out.
Was she jealous?
Hell, yes!
* * * *
Less than fifteen minutes later, Shelly was busy cutting some salad in Guy's homey kitchen, while he was absorbed in frying a peculiar-looking meat in honey and vinaigrette oil. She had been surprised, his kitchen and larder were well stocked with all the amenities of home. He obviously spent a lot of time in the kitchen, something, going by his rugged exterior, she would never have guessed at.
She peered over his shoulder and sniffed. “Why use vinegar?"
His attention never left the frying pan. “It helps to combat the sweetness of the honey, which in turn, does the same of the vinegar. The flavoring that you are left with is neither too sweet nor too sour.” Expertly, he flipped the meat, “As the French would say, it is bon magnifique."
Shelly went back to her chopping, his childlike enthusiasm not having been lost on her. “You like to cook, don't you?"
Guy turned to her, planted his fists on his hips, and practically glowered at her. “Is there something wrong with a man who likes to cook?"
Shelly almost smiled with glee. She had obviously offended his manhood. Men were peculiar beings, really.
Guy's lips tightened then he sighed. “Well, do you?"
Shelly only smiled at him sweetly, the picture of innocence, and returned to dicing the tomato before her into fourths. She decided that there was more to the man than she could ever have guessed. Much more!
The man was a keeper, for sure. So why then was she adamant about flinging him back in the fishpond with the rest of the boys at the end of the week?
His voice, which was still defensive, cut through her thoughts. “What about you, do you like cooking, Shelly?"
She paused, her hand on the next tomato. “I love it,” she admitted.
He appraised her slim figure through narrowed blue eyes. “You don't look like you do."
Shelly wiped her hands on the Playboy apron with the large bunny he had tied around her waist earlier. “If I enjoy cooking, then how should I look?"
"Well, fatter, a little more rounded on the rear, but you're as slender as a girl."
Shelly frowned. Maybe he preferred larger women. Ted certainly seemed to prefer the rounder variety.
"Do you prefer larger women?” Shelly asked vigilantly.
"Sweetheart.” Instantly, his smile vanished. His eyes focused on her like a hungry predator that had just found its next meal. “I love all women,” he said, then stepped towards her.
"Pig.” Shelly pointed the knife at him threateningly.
He backed up, waving his hands. “But of course, I love your figure the best.” He rushed.
"Of course,” Shelly replied mordantly and returned to chopping the tomato.
Guy had obviously done or said something wrong, so he tried to explain. “All I meant was that normally, if you loved to cook, then you should be carrying a bit more weight. Since the cook always tends to sample what they've made."
Shelly studied him. “Well, the same could be said for you. You've got a body like a Greek god and if your theory was true, you wouldn't have such a fit waistline, never mind the six-pack."
"Do you really think I've a body like a Greek god?"
He played it coy, but Shelly could see that he was insanely pleased by her words. She surveyed him openly; faded Levi's that clung to his slender hips, long legs, his brown, shirtless torso, and the lean muscles of his abdomen. She shook her head. “You know, now that I've had a good look at you, I don't."
He grinned and turned his attention back to the meat. “You're lying. Your mouth is watering for me."
Shelly retorted. “I'm hungry!"
Guy laughed. “So am I."
Anyone else who was to happen upon the conversation might think they were simply talking about food, but Shelly knew otherwise. A warm shiver of anticipation coursed down her spine and centered between her legs as she thought on all the glories of the flesh the night would soon bring.
* * * *
Together, they set the little table on the terrace. While Guy disappeared into the dim interior of his apartment to fetch a bottle of wine, Shelly had to admit that the feeling of doing chores together was nice. Almost as if they were a real couple and it wasn't just a holiday affair. She made a small adjustment to the place settings and then stood nervously, hands twisting anxiously at her side. Even now, after more than a week of lovemaking, each time she still felt as nervous as a girl when alone with the man.
Soon after, she heard Guy whistling a jaunty tune before he joined her, wearing a smile and not much else. With the elegant grace of an eighteenth century butler, which was made all the more amusing given his great size, he deftly filled both their wineglasses, then took the place opposite her at the table.
Shelly sipped at her wine. It was cool, thirst-quenching, and just what she needed in the tropical heat. As Guy filled both their plates, she tipped her chair back slightly so that she could better enjoy the view his tight-fitting briefs offered.
She had a glimpse of flat, brown torso and an invitingly huge bulge that gave way to strong, muscled, sinewy legs. Ah, she sighed. Men were good, despite what other women might argue sometimes. God had definitely done right in creating them. Remembering Ted, she decided well, at least in creating some of them. Her eyes wandered once more to his balls, beautifully defined beneath the material of his briefs and grinned. This one in particular was heaven on earth.
If she was going to manage to eat anything at all, she knew that she had to turn her thoughts to less excitable matters. She sat back against the wooden seat, her hands resting in her lap. The sunset, just visible over the top of the sea, washed the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. The rustling of the soft wind through the leaves of the palm trees and the faint breaking of waves against the shore should have calmed her raging hormones like nothing else could. On most nights, Shelly supposed it would, but not with Guy sitting less than a foot away, so handsome, potent, and male, and almost naked.
An hour later when the meal, which had been absolutely delicious, was over with, Shelly helped Guy carry their dirty dishes into the softly moonlit kitchen. Leaning her hip against the worktop, she watched as he opened the freezer, took out a tub of mixed ice cream and filled two bowls with it. Then he covered the ice cream with freshly cut strawberries and doused it with some champagne.
As Shelly carried the chilled champagne bottle back to the terrace with Guy following at her heals, she smiled, the man never did anything in half measures.
Guy set the bowls on the table while Shelly placed the champagne in the centre beside the flickering candle.
A heated wave of electricity danced up her spine as Guy unexpectedly pulled her into his arms and gave her a hot, soul-wrenching kiss.
Oh my, but the man knew how to give a kiss! Guy had a way with his lips that defied explanation.
And his body ... never would it be possible to get enough of those lean, hard muscles flexing around her.
It was only the barely audible, “We best eat the ice cream before it melts,” that Guy murmured against her lips, which broke the spell.
To hell with the ice cream, Shelly thought as she dutifully took a seat at the table. She had eaten about half of the delicious desert when she lowered her spoon and stood up. She couldn't take anymore, screw the ice cream, she was horny and she wanted Guy. She reasoned, he would just have to give her what she wanted. If not, she'd rape him. Then she wondered if it was possible to rape a man. With her being a woman, the appendage needed was most definitely missing.
Guy looked at her, his sapphire blue eyes warm and questioning with the hint of humor she had come to recognize that was never very far away from their depths.
Without a word having been uttered between the pair of them, Shelly sauntered around the table until she was standing directly in front of him. Knocking his kn
ees apart with her legs until her fanny was pressing up against the bulge in his briefs, she dipped slim fingers into his desert bowl and smoothed the strawberry sauce over his lips.
Guy's cool eyes never left her face as she bent and licked it off with tiny flicks of her tongue.
Shelly grinned. His eyes might be able to feign detachment, but the growing bulge against her fanny was another matter altogether. She bent and kissed his mouth; his lips, hot and hungry, eagerly answered her own. She shivered with pleasure as his hand slowly snaked over her breast, down her side and up under the hem of her dress. She shivered again as his hand, rougher against the smooth skin of her thigh, glided higher up her leg, then stopped to cup her mound, panties and all.
She gasped as he pushed a finger beneath the thin material and pressed, until the lips of her pussy parted and allowed him to slip into her cream. Still kissing him, she arched against his body as his finger continued to glide forcefully in and out of her with a fast motion that drove her wild.
Then quite suddenly, he stopped. Shelly stood back and looked at him, her mouth swollen from his kiss. Her fingers stroked his thick, soft hair. In the muted light, it seemed blacker than the night sky, but, like the Maldavian night, the strands felt warm against her fingers.
Guy grinned, blue eyes smoldering. “What do you want, angel?"
"I want to fuck you!"
He teased gently. “Such language from a lady!"
Shelly stared out over the sea. A few lights twinkled here and there as boats carved their way through the water. “I ain't no lady."
"You don't mind about the neighbors?” he teased, looking so sexy, that she forgot for a moment to breathe.
"You assured me that they wouldn't have brought their telescope on holiday. Remember, the last time we ended up doing it on the terrace?"
Guy needed no more encouragement. Shelly gasped as he kicked her feet out from beneath her. For a moment, she was falling, then his arms, secure and strong, pulled her up against his solid chest. She entwined her arms around his neck and arched her body against his. With no foreplay, Guy delved two long fingers into her pussy. It still wasn't enough. She needed something bigger.
Tempting Escape Page 23