Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “Baby? You’re insane. I was a senior the year your sister started as a freshman. I’m twenty-seven, and you, old man?”

  “Thirty-two.” Quinn said.

  “Oh my god,” she squealed. “Geriatric.” He rolled on top of her and stopped her insults with his mouth.

  After a late dinner and more sex, just to prove he wasn’t decrepit, they dozed on the wide expanse of bed. Quinn’s breathing evened and deepened. The man had the ability to fall asleep fast.

  She watched him sleep. She could easily fall in love with Major Edmund Quinn. Damn. How long had she known him? Did the time she knew of him through Ollie count?

  How important was time together? Time getting to know a person? Shared experiences? Take her gradual affection for her ex—Brent. She’d been slow and cautious about deepening their relationship. So much so, Brent had grown impatient and then angry. Yet, despite all the time involved, the time spent going at a snail’s pace, she’d been wrong about her feelings for him.

  Maybe moving along at Mach speed with Quinn was the better way to go.

  CHAPTER 14

  DeAnna stretched, blinked open sleepy eyes and discovered she was alone in the big bed. It was early. Checking her phone, she read the note from Quinn: ‘Hey beautiful. Early workout-main gym. If you get this before 8, join me. Or I’ll pick you up at 8:30 for chow.’

  Beside the bed, the house phone message light blinked. She accessed the voice message. Hey, good morning, this is Frank. My ETD is o-nine- hundred hours. Before I go, could you join me for coffee at the Lava Garden Terrace? I have some last-minute business to discuss.”

  ETD was short for estimated time of departure. Was Frank leaving? And why did he want to meet without Quinn? Something you’ll never know if you don’t hustle.

  Grateful it would be a sightseeing and beach day ahead, she hurried into shorts and a top, slid on sandals. Wrestling her hair into a low ponytail, she skipped make-up and headed downstairs.

  At a corner table, Frank stood, and pulled out her chair. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “Good morning. I was surprised to get your message.”

  Before sitting back down, he signaled the waiter. Then asked her, “Breakfast?”

  “Just coffee,” she said to both Frank and the eager young server.

  Frank sat hunched over his silverware. “I enjoyed our day yesterday. You’re a beautiful, talented woman and obviously interested in one of my best friends, so personally off-limits.”

  Frank waited while the server poured coffee, then said, “Time is limited so I’ll get to business. My father is determined to recruit you. For that reason, he’s given me permission to share several very confidential pieces of information with you.”

  “You know I’m not at liberty to reciprocate.”

  “I do. Not necessary. I already know the name of the corporation you work for. I can guess it was wonder-boy Martin who sent you here. I’m not certain if your chain is considering acquiring this resort.”

  She maintained her poker face.

  “This hotel,” Frank said, “the Fragrant Gardens of Kauai, is on shaky financial ground but having a manger like you would go a long way toward balancing their budget, to bringing them back.”

  She raised one shoulder in a minuscule shrug. Where did the Whitney Group get their information?

  “Dad’s associates, with myself included, are familiar with Martin’s tactics. Therefore, we’re assuming you’re on a fast-track to a promotion.”

  Frank leaned forward. “The Whitney Group was approached to bail-out your employer’s Maui resort. Dad has made the decision to decline. Even with a huge infusion of cash plus drastic changes in management, that hotel will very likely go belly-up in six months.”

  She uncurled her fists, stretched her fingers. She didn’t know Mr. Martin very well, but wow.

  “This highly confidential information comes from Whitney Group Investments with our best wishes for your future success. We want you on our team. But even if you decide not to join us, we have your best interests at heart.” He took out a business card, handed it across the table. “If you change your mind, call any time and we’ll set up an interview.”

  She stared at the card. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Dee Smith.”

  As Frank left the terrace, she checked her watch. It was too late to join Quinn. She had a sudden urge to fly back to Oahu, now.

  No, she’d learned her lesson about running away. From here on out, she was back to being the woman who faced big problems, head on. She’d finish this assignment, ace this one, and then return to Oahu on Sunday. Find out the truth about what was going on with Mr. Martin and with the Maui resort on Monday morning.

  TO SAVE TIME, Quinn showered and shaved in the gym. His hair was still damp when he knocked on DeAnna’s door.

  “Good workout?” she asked, right before he grabbed her and smothered her face with kisses. He ended the barrage at her lips, with a slow kiss that was all about tongue and arousal.

  “Yep,” he breathed, coming up for air. “I’m ready.” His hands slid down to cup her butt. “Let’s go back to bed.” He tickled her earlobe. “Frank’s gone, we can stay in bed all day.”

  “Not today. For this morning’s custom VIP tour, we need to arrive at the first stop early, the parking lot is full by 10:30.”

  “Too many people. Let’s skip that one.”

  Pointing to a beach bag on the coffee table, she laughed. “Grab your swim shorts and we’ll share the bag. You can drive. First stop is a beach.”

  They found a parking space and she led him to a photo spot over- looking the long crescent of sand. “Would you take a picture with your camera?”

  “Sure. What’s so special about Lumahai Beach?”

  “The movie South Pacific was filmed here.”

  He nodded and clicked a couple of shots. Then glanced over to her. Why did she have a frown line across her forehead?

  “You have no idea what I’m talking about,” she said.

  “I recognize the name. A Broadway show, right? From before we were born—after World War II. Then a big movie, again before our time. And finally, a TV movie.”

  “Good answer. Also, several of the songs are classics, the story references Kauai, and the anti-racism is blunt and unapologetic.”

  “Then I’m really happy we’re sharing it. Let’s go to Bali Ha’i.”

  He dodged as she punched for his shoulder. “Faker,” she said, “You do know South Pacific.”

  Bravely snaking an arm around her waist, he said, “Ollie forced me to listen to a few of the songs. I really liked There’s Nothing Like a Dame.”

  They swam in the ocean and baked for an hour in the Hawaiian sun. Feeling like a lobster, he sat up on his beach towel. “Stick a fork in me. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. I’m starved. Next stop, authentic Hawaiian lunch.”

  He jumped up, shook out his towel. “What a woman.”

  The restaurant was a dive. Or maybe he was spoiled by the resort. It was dark, smelled like old beer. DeAnna chose a padded booth deep in one corner.

  “The primary reason we’re here is for the food,” she said. He raised one eyebrow and she snorted. “Don’t be such a snob. The kitchen is immaculate and the food melts in your mouth. And let’s order an adult beverage. I just realized by trying out this “tour” on you I might have stepped over a line.”

  “If you think I’ll steal your ideas for this tour, I can swear to you I’m off duty today. Confirmed by my patron, Mr. Whitney, Sr. For today, and today only, I won’t repeat a single thing I see or hear. This entire deal, the beach and eating at this dicey hole in the wall? It’s all yours. Okay?”

  “Great. Tomorrow we’ll go back to being competitors.”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Sure, I guess. At least as far as your scruples are concerned. I’ve never thought of us as being in competition.” He traced a fingertip across her bottom lip.

&
nbsp; When she didn’t return his smile, he changed tactics. Narrowing his eyes, leering, he said, in a deep, menacing tone. “Be warned, Missy. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, Quinn the evil spy returns. I’ll plunder your thoughts and pillage your tempting body.”

  That had her laughing. “Just confirming, so I know the rules. That way, I can enjoy what’s left of my Kauai adventure.”

  He smiled. But her words sat like a cannonball in the pit of his stomach. Her what’s left emphasized the fact of their time limit. Well, they did have one. They both faced an end date to their assignments. But after Kauai, he was determined they’d see each other. Be together. Soon.

  How could he bear parting from Dee?

  Maybe Ollie could help him think of an idea. He should try to call her today, anyway. Reassure baby sister that big brother knew the exact location of her bestie, DeAnna.

  She took a long drink of her Mai Tai. Then signaled the bartender. “Let’s each order a different meal and share?”

  Quinn eyed the beer stains on the floor. Damn good thing he loved—er—trusted this woman. He was about to place his intestinal well-being in her hands.

  * * *

  DINNER THAT NIGHT at a one of the resort restaurants might be safer, but Quinn judged it wasn’t as delicious as lunch. That afternoon they’d stopped at several more beaches and a waterfall. When they returned to the suite, DeAnna whipped through her report, then created a template and Go Native marketing plan for a VIP tour which included most of the beaches they’d seen, and the grubby bar/restaurant.

  “You sure about that?” he teased.

  “Tourists love local color.”

  They had one more Fragrant Garden lounge to check out. The hostess greeted them and sat them at a tiny round table on the edge of the dance floor. As soon as Quinn ordered their drinks, the piano player in the small band tipped his hat. Quinn got to his feet. “May I have this dance?”

  Looking bewildered, DeAnna stood and put her hand in his.

  “They’re playing our song,” he explained.

  “They aren’t playing any song.”

  A male vocalist stepped to the microphone and sang the first line to Some Enchanted Evening.

  * * *

  HE EASED Dee into his embrace. While they moved, he held her close and whispered what lyrics he knew in her ear. After the song’s big finish, he escorted her back to the table.

  She kept her hand in his. “Wonderfully romantic. You didn’t know this movie?”

  “I learned a lot from Siri. He even helped me downloaded the sound track. We figured this for your favorite song.”

  “I’m seriously impressed. And turned on. Shall we go?” she murmured. “Maybe tonight we should give the bed in your suite a test flight?”

  His heart pounding, his mouth stretched in a doofus grin, he signaled for the check. It was official. He had it bad for his baby sister’s best friend. He loved being with her. On a beach, on a dance floor and anywhere naked. However, the overwhelming need to help Dee, to protect and take care of her? That part was all new to him.

  “I’m ready,” he declared. “However, I feel I should point out, we haven’t looked at the menu, haven’t tasted the drinks.”

  She fisted his shirt front, pulled his mouth to hers. After a mind-blowing kiss, she said, “Get the drinks to go, I’ll steal a menu. We’ll meet by the potted palm.”

  CHAPTER 15

  DeAnna awoke early the next morning, squinting in the dim light of Quinn’s bedroom. Judging by the slow, even breathing coming from the body next to her, he was still sound asleep. Starting to roll over, she winced. Last night’s sexual Olympics had challenged several new muscle groups. She needed a soak in a hot tub.

  And these bathrooms were ideal.

  Easing out of bed, she padded into the ensuite, and quietly closed the door behind her. Quinn’s bathroom, an exact copy of hers, was spacious. A room designed for serious pampering. Lavishly tiled and seductively mirrored, it offered a temptation to linger, to relax.

  Sitting on the marble ledge surrounding the jetted tub, she started the water flowing, then adjusted the temperature.

  Today was her turn at ‘surprise tour day’ and she’d planned a sex-filled whopper for Quinn. A customized, full-day tour that included—not counting the time spent in his Strike Eagle—several of the Major’s favorite activities. Her lips lifted in a smug smile. Anticipation sent zings of excitement dancing through her body.

  With the butler’s help, she’d located the helicopter pilot and tour company she’d been hearing about. This morning, she and Quinn would be treated to a private air tour of Kauai’s famous shore line. Then the pilot would deliver them to a secret, secluded beach for a day of nude swimming and sex on the sand.

  * * *

  THEY WERE STRAPPED in the helicopter, nearing the end of the air portion of the tour. When the pilot mentioned landing, DeAnna bit back a grin.

  Quinn’s brows drew together. “Where are you setting us down?”

  “On the sand.”

  “Seriously? What about brown out?”

  “Got more than my share of sandbox experience. Iraq, Afghanistan. And Babe’s engine is equipped with a top of the line sand filter. Since the spot where I’m taking you two gets used on a daily basis, we’ve created an unofficial landing pad.”

  “Good news.” Quinn nodded approval.

  “You fly?”

  “Back seat. I’m a Strike Eagle WSO.”

  “Damn.” The pilot grinned. “The Babe and I are honored to have you and your lady onboard, sir.”

  As they approached the inlet, the pilot pointed. “Your supplies have already been delivered. Help yourself to everything. It’ll all be cleaned and flown out after you leave.”

  Quinn’s jaw dropped. “You’re leaving us here. Nobody else around?”

  “Surprise,” she said, gripping Quinn’s arm.

  “Enjoy.” The pilot softly cleared his throat. “We’ve included two critical items. Camp toilet and SAT phone. The toilet is set up behind the tall palms.”

  “Luxury,” Quinn muttered.

  “And the phone?” she asked.

  “Plastic container at your feet,” the pilot said. “Pick up is scheduled for sixteen-hundred, 4 o’clock. Any emergency, call dispatch. Call if you see visitors, a boat or aircraft gets too close. We’re local and have privacy agreements with all the tour companies.”

  “How can you enforce that?” she asked.

  “This inlet is private property. We guarantee your privacy.”

  “All that stuff for two people?” Quinn pointed to the colorful pile of goodies below—ice chests, bins, boxes, beach chairs, umbrellas, and what looked like the makings of a sunshade, neatly stacked near the wood planked landing pad.

  “Hey,” she huffed. “I chose the luxury deserted island experience.”

  The pilot laughed. Quinn adjusted his headset mic and kissed her. “That’s my girl. Why rough it when you can go for conspicuous consumption?”

  * * *

  ON THE GROUND and standing at a ‘safe-distance’, DeAnna shaded her eyes and waved good-bye to the pilot as the chopper lifted off.

  Quinn slung an arm around her shoulder. “Decisions, decisions. Do we unpack first? Or get naked and go for a dirty swim?”

  “Tough choice.” She kissed him but wiggled free before it got too intense. “Compromise. Let’s make one trip to create shade. Bring the chairs and set up the umbrella. Then we’ll strip and swim.”

  “Where do you want the shade?”

  She pointed to a central spot on the white sand. Quinn grabbed two folding chairs, the giant umbrella, a bin marked towels, and marched double-time through the sand.

  After a look at the packing list, she was hefting the blue ice chest—assorted cold drinks—when Quinn hurried back to her. “Let me get that.”

  She frowned at him. “I’m certainly more than capabl—”

  “I know you can handle it. But, honey,” he said, leering at her, �
�you’d better conserve your strength.”

  She shoved the plastic bin at his chest.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Can you track down the sun block? A few of my body parts have never seen sun like this. You’ll need to slather goop all over me.”

  “I’ll find it.”

  Standing in the oasis of shade they’d created under the wide umbrella, she turned and faced Quinn. Slowly, provocatively she lifted her top up and over her head. Unhooking her bra, she tossed it to her chair.

  “Oh baby,” he groaned.

  Sliding off her shorts and panties together, she glanced at him. “Major, you are way overdressed.” The man went to Mach-speed, and was naked in a flash. After rolling on a condom, he reached for her, but she dodged his hands. “Hurry up,” she shouted over her shoulder, and raced for the ocean.

  The cool water didn’t bring down the heat throbbing through her body. She was almost chest deep when Quinn’s arm curled over her waist. Spinning her around to face him, their lips crashed together. The kisses were hungry, devouring. His hands were everywhere, teasing, kneading, stroking. She locked her legs around his hips and hung on.

  “I need you,” he groaned. A wave broke over her shoulders and smacked Quinn’s face with salty seawater. Coughing, he laughed and blinked like crazy.

  “Stand sideways.” It was all she could think to do. “So we can both see the waves coming.”

  They experimented with positions until she shivered with need and desire. After surviving several smaller waves, Quinn decided they could balance better on their own feet. “Keep one foot in the sand.”

  He gripped her butt, tipped her hips, and slid home. Finally. The fullness, the pressure made her toes curl. Moments later a powerful orgasm gripped her, consumed her. She drove her fingertips into his shoulders, threw back her head, and screamed his name.

  Quinn maintained his rhythm, filling her again and again. Another mind-numbing orgasm, hot on the first one, turned every bone in her body liquid. She sagged against his solid chest, his muscled arms straining to hold her. He stiffened, groaned and emptied into her. They toppled over and sank together.