Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

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Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads Page 118

by Nicole Morgan


  I rolled onto her and she stretched underneath me, molding her sweet curves into my angles.

  “Good morning,” she murmured against my neck.

  “Good morning,” I said and slid between her legs once more, pressing my cock into her wet and welcoming body.

  WE ORDERED room service and sat across from each other, slipping fruit into each other’s mouths with our fingers, sucking on the tips of each other’s hands. She was in one of my t-shirts. It swept and fluttered around her thighs, and I knew she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath.

  “So,” I asked her, “what are you going to do for the rest of your stay here?”

  “I don’t know. Lay on the beach? Hunt for shells?” She popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

  “You know, staying here means you can take advantage of any excursion or travel option they offer. Snorkeling, sailing, ATV riding, horseback riding. They have plenty you can do.”

  “Oh.” I saw her face fall and I knew then that she was hoping to spend the rest of her time with me.

  “Perhaps we can do a few things together,” I offered.

  “Yeah, maybe. I mean, just whenever you’re not busy if you want. Maybe lunch?”

  I reached across the table and tugged at her fingers. “Lunch sounds wonderful. I do have a few things to take care of though. Shall I meet you in the dining room later?”

  She thought this was a dismissal. And it was. In a manner of speaking. I just needed some time to think, and I couldn’t do it with her long legs, firm ass and wild fuck-me hair swanning around my villa.

  I stood up from the table. “I need to jump in the shower.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She dropped her napkin and stood up, her eyes shining with hurt.

  I walked around the table and pulled her to me, pressing my lips into hers. “I’ll see you at lunch.” Then I headed up the stairs to my shower.

  I soaped up and tried not to dwell on the memory of Samantha spread open on the bench, writhing on my tongue. I couldn’t. Even though I’d been inside of her this morning, my cock still thickened and throbbed until I fisted it quickly in my hand and tried to give myself some relief.

  I decided exercise would be the only thing to tame my body. After I had toweled off, I threw on a t-shirt, running pants and pair of trainers and headed off down the beach. I jogged down the sand until I found the path I was looking for. I rolled my shoulders, stretched out my legs and then set off down the path.

  I was headed toward the interior of the island. The jungle was thicker in that area, the trees grew closer together, and the ocean breezes didn’t penetrate the thickets, making the air heavy and warm. I trudged upward, heading up an incline to the ridge at the center of the island.

  Insects ticked and chattered around me, birds sang in the trees high above my head and once I had to sidestep a red-tipped snake that slithered across my path.

  And all the while Samantha filled my head.

  I knew it was dangerous to think of the things I was thinking. We’d only just met. I didn’t really know her. Maybe she was after my money. Maybe it was too soon after Portia and her betrayal to think about another relationship. Maybe I’d just wind up hurting her or she would hurt me.

  I wasn’t sure if I could let another woman get close to me. I didn’t know if I’d lost my trust and that was not something I wanted to try out on Samantha.

  The path steepened and I bent over, hands on my knees to catch my breath. Images of Samantha flashed through my mind. Returning my wallet to Jacob, slapping my face, lounging in the hammock, that glorious floaty dress. Sprawled naked across my bed. On her knees in front of me, my cock sliding between her lips.

  Damn.

  I sprinted the last few yards up the ridge, bursting above the tree line to the top. The sun burned overhead, the sky impossibly blue, the island spread out below me. I could see the bright, white sands and the green that ringed them. Sails scuttled across the green- and blue patched seas in the distance and a pod of dolphins frolicked in the waters to the west. Despite the beauty around me, all I could think of was how I wished I’d brought Samantha to see it. She was smart and kind and sexy and brash and bold and hardworking and deserved everything I could give her and more. And I could give her more than she’d ever imagined.

  I couldn’t make my way back down the path fast enough. I was going to do it. No woman, not Portia or any other girl I’d ever met made me feel the way Samantha did. I wanted her, and she wanted me. Just me. Not my money. She never asked me about how much I had, and she hadn’t asked me to buy her anything or give her gifts. She’d returned the money she needed badly. I decided I would give Samantha the world if she’d let me. At the very least, I’d help her through school.

  I ran down the ridge, stumbled over the trail, and flew out of the jungle and across the beach. I could feel the grin on my face. And I could feel the sweat coating my back.

  The humid jungle air was stuck to my skin, covering it in a sticky, sweaty film. I grimaced and pulled my t-shirt away from my body. I’d run back to my villa, jump back into the shower quickly and go to Samantha’s room before lunch. Then, I’d help her pack her bags and move them over to my villa. Or, if she preferred, I’d stay in her suite. Either way, she was spending the rest of her vacation with me.

  I jogged down the path, shells crunching under my feet and swerved around the housekeeper. I let myself in the door and took the stairs two at a time, stripping off my sweat-soaked t-shirt as I made my way down the hall. I kicked off my shoes at the door to my room and walked across to drop my key on the dresser.

  Wait.

  I turned and looked at the bedside stand. I know I left my wallet up here. Maybe.

  I ran back down the stairs and glanced around the living and dining area, even checked the veranda. Nothing. I dashed back upstairs and ran my hands through the pockets of the pants I’d worn the day before. Suspicion began to nudge at me.

  I went over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. A Patek Philippe watch and a Christophe Claret watch, gone. Platinum and diamond solitaire cufflinks, gone. My wallet and money, gone. Easily close to two million dollars in items and money. That would pay a helluva lot of tuition.

  I slammed the dresser drawer shut and clenched my fists. Son of a bitch! That bitch!

  Pain stabbed at my heart as I thought of her innocent eyes and sweet smile. Lies.

  She’d smiled at me and moaned my name and fucked me and lied to me with her honeyed mouth.

  I let out a roar and swept a lamp from the dresser, flinging it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the bulb popping when it broke.

  I wondered when I went to Jacob and he pulled up her information, if we’d find a string of wealthy men robbed of their goods in hotel rooms and resorts across the world. I doubted she was even a college student.

  She got me good, with one of the oldest tricks around. I never thought I’d be the kind of man who’d get led around by his cock but I was wrong. About so many things.

  I quickly stripped off the rest of my clothes and cleaned up, pulling on a suit. I wanted Samantha to be intimidated now. I wanted her to see the kind of wealth and power she was dealing with when I confronted her.

  I strode down the stairs and out the front door of the villa. I started for the lobby before changing my mind. I wanted to have this confrontation in private before I reported her to Jacob. It’s not like she could go anywhere, this was a private island.

  I switched directions, stomping across the grounds toward her building. I tore up the spiral stairs and stalked down the hallway, stopping in front of her door. My heart was suddenly in my throat, and I swallowed around the lump. I stood, my forehead pressed against her door.

  This was worse than Portia. I didn’t love Portia, I knew that now. Portia hurt my ego, my pride. I was more upset by the fact that she’d pulled one over on me than I was by the fact that she was fucking her “gay best friend”.

  Samantha had come into my world and destro
yed it. Even Diamond Cove was destroyed for me. I wouldn’t ever return to the island that had been another home for my family and I over the past twenty years.

  Samantha had wounded me. The pain was deep, spearing through my heart and twisting through my brain. If she’d only let me, I would have given her more than she’d stolen from me. She could have had anything from me. Even if it was only an act from her, I loved her.

  I took a step back and rubbed my hands roughly over my face before pulling my fingers through my hair. I straightened my jacket, smoothed my tie, and brushed any wrinkles off my lapel.

  I faced the door, heart fluttering in my throat.

  Then, I knocked.

  CHAPTER 9

  SAMANTHA

  I’d left Eric’s villa in a daze. I’d been a little upset that he hadn’t wanted to spend the morning in bed, wrapped around each other. However, I was enough of an adult to realize he didn’t owe me anything. And that he had a life that needed attending.

  So, I’d wrapped my dress from the night before around my waist in a makeshift skirt, twisted my hair up on the top of my head, slid on my shoes, and did the walk of shame across the resort back to my suite.

  Except, I wasn’t ashamed. Not even a little.

  I passed a young housekeeper on the path and gave a giggly wave. She gave me smirking look.

  Back in my room, I stripped out of Eric’s t-shirt and hung the borrowed designer dress back on its padded hanger. Then I ran a steamy bath, pouring in a healthy splash of the fragrant oil provided by the resort. The air scented with the smell of plumeria and lilies as I slipped into the water. It was soft against my skin, though there was slight sting between my legs at first that turned into a pleasant ache as I soaked.

  I thought back to the night before, and my body responded quickly, flesh shivering in the warm bath. Eric wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. And not because he was a Lord and gazillionaire. Because he was a man. Thorough with his tongue and cock. Attentive. Giving. Gorgeous. Kind. And kind of a pain in the ass.

  I knew we had vastly different backgrounds and I knew we’d never see eye to eye on some matters, but that didn’t matter to me. I was pretty sure I was falling in love with Lord Eric Godfrey. I jumped out, toweled off and found a light sundress to slip into. Then I wandered around my room with stars in my eyes and Eric in my head.

  I wasn’t sure how this would work with us, I didn’t know if he wanted this to work, what with him living in England, me in Chicago. Me, a broke student, him a billionaire Lord and heir. No big deal. I giggled and slipped out onto the balcony and dropped on the settee pushed up against the end.

  The air was soft, and a breeze shushed through the palm fronds lulling me into a relaxed drowse.

  The pounding on my door pulled me out of my dreamy daze and I jerked up. What in the world? I knew housekeeping wouldn’t beat the door down like that. Maybe something had happened. Something had happened to Eric. My heart started to beat faster. That was definitely the sound of a “something is wrong” knock. I stumbled off the settee and lurched toward the door, snatching it open hastily.

  Eric was standing there.

  “Eric,” I said brightly, “I thought we were meeting in the dining room. Am I late?” I turned around, searching for the clock.

  “No,” he said sharply and pushed his way inside.

  I shut the door and followed him in. “Well, we can hang out here for a bit before we go to lunch. Unless you’d like to order room service?” I picked up the menu from the nearby table and flipped it open.

  When I looked up, expecting to see a smile on his face, he was standing perfectly still in the middle of the room, staring at me. His face was granite. His eyes were cold, and his head tilted back just slightly enough that he was looking down his nose at me. His nostrils flared like something disgusted him. Like I disgusted him. I dropped the menu and walked across the room. I stopped in front of him and laid my hand on his chest.

  “Eric, what’s happened?” Concern and fear made my voice crack.

  He stared down at my hand for a moment before flicking it off his jacket like you’d flick a dead fly off a window screen. Oh, my God.

  “Eric…” my voice trailed off as I tried to swallow my fear.

  “Where is it, Miss Tate?” he asked coldly.

  “Where is what?”

  “You know damned well what,” he ground out between his clenched teeth. I took a step back. I was afraid of the rage on his face and the ice in his eyes. I was afraid he was going to hurt me.

  I took off for the bedroom.

  I wasn’t fast enough, and he was right behind me. I stumbled and fell across the bed, and he loomed over me.

  “Where is the stuff you stole from my room,” he demanded.

  “I…what?” I couldn’t help it, I dissolved into giggles. Were we here again?

  “Did you lose your wallet again? I’ll help you search the paths for it.”

  He got in my face, inches from my nose. “Return my belongings, you opportunistic little thief. Fifteen thousand dollars is one thing, almost two million in watches and jewelry is quite another. You should have kept the money the first time. You won’t get out of this one as easily.”

  I was stunned into silence, my laughter dying in my throat and replaced with a burning fear.

  “I didn’t…I didn’t take anything, Eric,” I gasped out.

  “Liar,” he spat at me.

  The tears burned, molten and fast down my cheeks.

  “Please, with the fake tears,” he scoffed, “I hope you don’t think that will work with me. I know your type.”

  “I’m not a type,” I gasped through my tears.

  “You are a type, my dear. The criminal type. And you’re headed to jail unless you return my things.”

  “I don’t have them,” I said between clenched teeth.

  “Well, let’s have a look then.” He turned and looked around the room, heading for the dresser.

  Fury spiked through me. Who the hell did he think he was? I jumped up and ran over, knocking his hand away before he opened a drawer.

  “Get out,” I snarled at him.

  “Return my belongings,” he demanded, “before I call security and have them search your room and arrest you. I don’t know what this resort is thinking, letting this place be used a contest prize. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. Look what kind of people show up when let just anyone in.” His voice was harsh and contemptuous, and it pissed me off.

  “You want to search my room,” I screamed at him, “fine, let’s search my goddamned room!”

  His eyes widened at the high and furious pitch of my voice, but I wasn’t done.

  I snatched the entire drawer out of the dresser and threw it onto the bed. It was empty, and so were the other nine I pulled from their spots and tossed randomly, some of them barely missing Eric. I stomped to the closet and flung it open. Four sundresses hung in the huge space and my single suitcase sat by the door. I pulled the dresses off the rack and pitched them toward the bed with the drawers. Then, I dragged out my suitcase, rolled it to the bed, unzipped it, and upended over the pile of growing items. A few pairs of underwear, a swimsuit, and a pair of shoes tumbled out.

  I stomped into the other room and came back with my purse. I opened it too, and dumped the contents on the bed. A brush, some gum, my passport, and two dollars fluttered out. I lobbed the purse at the pile and stood there, my hands fisted onto my hips, my breath heaving out of my lungs.

  “Happy?” I snapped.

  “Is that…is that all you have? All your things?” His voice was quiet as his eyes studied the small pile of belongings on the bed.

  “Yes,” I said shortly.

  When I looked at him again, the anger had drained from his face and something else was left behind. Something I wanted to see even less than anger. Pity.

  “Well, you can see, I don’t have your stuff. I don’t know what happened to it. You don’t have the best track record of keeping hold of
your belongings. I guess that’s what comes from not appreciating what you have. Where I come from, we call that privilege.” I speared him with a fierce look.

  He took a step toward me and I backed away. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

  “I’m…I mean, maybe I made a mistake,” he mumbled.

  “You think?” I scoffed at him. “I’m sure you can pay someone to correct it for you.”

  “But if you didn’t…and I’m not saying you did anymore…if you didn’t take my things, then who did? You were the only person there. I left you standing in the foyer when I went up to shower.” His voice is confused.

  “I don’t know,” I sighed wearily, “but maybe we should go to security and let them look into it.”

  “Yes, I think, yes, that’s what we should do.” He looked relieved to have something to do.

  I slipped on a pair of shoes, and we headed down to security. I kept my distance from Eric, standing on the far side of the elevator and walking a few steps behind him down the hallway and across the lobby.

  I kept glancing at him, my heart aching in my chest. I couldn’t believe he accused me again. I couldn’t believe he’d said the things he had said to me. He called me a thief, and worse, a liar. I blinked quickly to keep fresh tears from falling. I couldn’t believe just thirty minutes ago I was trying to figure out how we’d have a long-distance relationship and now he’d accused me of being a criminal, not once, but twice in the past few days. My heart hurt with the knowledge of what he thought of me.

  We reached the security head’s office. The door was closed and Eric knocked briskly. We heard a shuffling around inside and then the door opened.

  “Jacob, can we have a minute of your time?” Eric asked politely.

  Great, he was on a first-name basis with the head of security. This was going to go well. My stomach sank.

 

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