Enemy Lovers
Page 20
Warning: Contains a combustible situation near a volcano; steamy scenes on beaches and in lava pools; hints of voyeurism, exhibitionism and bondage; and some very creative uses of a surfboard.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Never Let Me Go:
Celeste picked her way across the cool lava a few yards from the shoreline, admiring Kanoe’s perfect butt as he climbed over a hunk of black rock.
“There,” he said triumphantly, moving beside her and gesturing forward.
“Wow.” She couldn’t come up with any better response. Ahead of them a depression in the lava formed what looked like a tide pool as big as one of LBG’s billionaire clients’ swimming pools. Moonlight glinted silver off the surface of the water. A wave crested over the rocks separating the ocean from the pool, and a skin of white water washed over it, its force rippling the surface to the far end.
They maneuvered their way over the lava, finally stepping onto an enormous, somewhat flat rock slightly angled to the water’s edge.
They stood there for a moment, and she tipped her head up to him, ready to tell him how amazing this was, when Kanoe dropped the towels and pulled her to him. Just before his mouth collided with hers, he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this all day.”
She reveled in his tropical, sun-kissed taste as he led the dance between their tongues. She slid her hands up his arms and beneath the sleeves of his shirt, stroking his hard biceps. His mouth moved to her jaw, and he grasped the hem of her shirt, hiking it up over her belly until it snagged on the undersides of her breasts. He took a small step back, a question in his eyes.
She hesitated, glancing back in the direction they’d come from. Moonlight shimmered over the lava, but nobody was there.
Fixing her gaze on him, she dragged in a deep breath and lifted her arms. He tugged the shirt over her head and dropped it on the rock beside them. With trembling fingers, she reached between her breasts to release the clasp of her bra.
A low sound came from his throat as the bra fell at her heels.
“Your turn,” she murmured as he raked his gaze over her upper body. She never behaved like this. Getting naked from the waist up, out in the open with the stars staring down at her, for a man she hardly knew? This was a version of Celeste she’d never met before. And right now, she liked her very much.
She felt crazy, reckless, wild. She wanted to go skinny-dipping with him, out here, tonight.
He yanked his shirt off, and she gazed at his bare chest. Hard. Solid. So close she could feel the heat radiating from it. The tattoo made dark, sexy slashes over the front of his chest and down his arm.
He didn’t touch her; instead he knelt before her and untied her sneakers. Now she understood why he’d asked her to wear them—for the hike out here. Though he’d only worn flip-flops, he definitely had a much better handle on walking over the rugged landscape.
She gazed down at his black hair and then his shoulder. The lines of his tattoo rippled as he moved one of her shoes aside.
He had this all planned out. A stab of some foreign emotion surged through her, and before she could think to censor her thoughts, she asked, “How many women have you brought out here?”
She nearly groaned aloud. Good one. Way to ruin the moment.
He froze and then rose to his feet, his face dark, his mouth flat at the corners, and growled, “You think I bring all the nani haole chicks out here to go puinsai with them?”
“Um…er…” She might’ve been able to answer the question had she understood it. At times, his accent and the words he used were completely undecipherable. At other times, he spoke like one of her colleagues back at home. It had never occurred to her that she wouldn’t understand the pidgin English they spoke here.
Speaking through his teeth, he said, “You don’t like pidgin? You want me to speak like a haole? I can do that too. I said, do you think I bring all the beautiful mainland tourists out here to fuck them?”
Her first response was a warm flush that rushed through her. He’d called her beautiful.
Her second response was awareness that she’d pissed him off. For some reason, his narrowed eyes, the tension in his muscles, the sheer power radiating from him didn’t scare her, or make her angry or defensive. It thrilled her. Made her hotter for him.
Holding her ground, she asked, “Do you?”
He stilled, then closed his eyes for a long moment. “No.”
She inched closer to him until her nipples brushed his chest and his pelvis pressed against her lower stomach. She could feel the ridge of his erection, and she shuddered.
“What about local girls?” she asked, but her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper rather than the challenge she’d meant it to be.
He gripped her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “I’ve never brought a woman here. Any woman. Ever.”
Her blood sped through her veins. Her nipples pushed against his pecs. His fingers curled around the tender flesh of her wrists. No man had ever held her this hard.
She liked it.
The muscles in her body clenched involuntarily, and she let out a little moan. The way he pressed to her, the way his hands held her wrists—God, she could feel an orgasm rising already.
He dropped her wrists instantly, misinterpreting her moan as one of pain. Drawing away from her, he mumbled, “Sorry.”
She gazed at him straight-on. “I want to see you naked. Please.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
He stared at her for a second, then nodded. Keeping his eyes locked on her, he slid his flip-flops off and reached between them to push his shorts over his hips.
Celeste tugged the shorts the rest of the way down, kneeling as she reached his ankles. He stepped out of them.
She looked up at his cock. It was darker than his tanned skin, hard yet so smooth. Like the rock they stood on, but pulsing warm and silky. Human. She tentatively reached up to stroke him, and a wave of anticipation vibrated through her body.
Gently pushing her hand away, he knelt to face her. “Your turn.” That dark look passed over his face again, but it wasn’t anger this time. He shook out one of the towels, then gestured to it. “Lie back.”
He moved the second towel so she could use it as a pillow. As soon as she lay down, he unbuttoned her shorts, then pulled them and her panties down her legs and over her feet in one smooth movement.
She gazed at Kanoe as his hand traced the outside of one of her breasts, and he brought his mouth down over her nipple, licking, teasing. Jolts of heat rocketed through her body, centering between her legs, opening a void, an ache begging to be filled.
This wasn’t just going to be skinny-dipping.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Enemy Lovers
Copyright © 2015 by Shelley Munro
ISBN: 978-1-61922-376-9
Edited by Holly Atkinson
Cover by Erin Dameron-Hill
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
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