He liked the way she moved. Her walk was hypnotic. Dressed in a belted short dress that clung to her slender body and accentuated her full breasts, she held his gaze hostage. The short hem of her dress showed off long legs encased in stiletto peep-toe pumps. Her short hair was pushed back from her exotic face, exposing her high cheekbones. His body heated just looking at her. He had plans for her. Erotic, nasty plans. He didn’t intend to hold back, so he hoped she could handle him.
Her gaze swept him from head to toe, silently appraising, but giving nothing away. He liked the fact that she kept him guessing. He had no idea what she was thinking right now.
“Did you bring me here to gloat?” she asked, her face impassive. She’d be one hell of a poker player.
“I would never do that,” he answered. “It’s ungentlemanly.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I think you know the answer to that. From our first kiss, you had to know this was inevitable.”
Her lips curled into a coy smile. “You think because you gave me one of the best orgasms of my life, I owe you something?”
He grinned. “Only one of the best? Seems I have my work cut out for me if I want to be Number One.”
Her eyes flitted from him to the interior of the jet. With plush navy leather chairs and a small, cherry wood conference table, it was the type of luxury he was most comfortable with. “Let me guess, you own this airplane, too?” she asked.
“No. I helped the owner broker a deal for some land a few years ago. He lets me use it whenever I need.”
“Is there any pot you don’t have your hands in?”
He chuckled. “I seem to recall you enjoying my hands. If I recall correctly, I think you said they were magic, or something like that.”
Her pretty brown skin glowed. “Something like that.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to making more magic with you, Marlowe Jones.”
Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Heat flooded his body as he hungrily delved in. Every time he claimed her mouth, it was like a homecoming. He’d been missing these lips something fierce. Her body melded against his, and like the last time they kissed, she purred like a cat in heat. He dragged his lips away, careful not to get caught up.
“Now what?” Marlowe asked.
“Now, we enjoy ourselves for a few days.”
She frowned. “I have a lot going on, Roque. I can’t just leave for a few days.”
“Yes, you can. I’ve already checked your schedule with Penny. You work hard, and so do I. We deserve a three-day weekend—”
“But…”
“—where I fulfill your every fantasy.”
The long lashes framing her wide eyes fluttered twice. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“What do you have to lose?”
“You’re pretty damn confident you can meet my needs.”
“When I see something I want, I go for it. It’s no secret I want you.”
“Mr. Coleman, Ms. Jones,” the flight attendant interrupted, “You may want to take your seats now. We’re preparing for takeoff.”
“Where are we going?” Marlowe asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Roque answered.
“I don’t do surprises. I have to let someone know where I am.”
“You can call your family when we land.” He led her to the seat next to him and buckled her seatbelt for her. “Don’t want you to get caught up in any turbulence, unless it’s created by me.”
She shook her head. “Do you really think we can stand each other for three days without getting on each other’s last nerve?”
He leaned over and kissed her on the lips again. “I don’t know, but it’ll sure as hell be fun trying.”
ELEVEN
Two hours and thirty minutes later, Marlowe stood in the impressive lobby of the Nayara Hotel in La Fortuna de San Carlos, Costa Rica. With polished marble floors, cascading crystal chandeliers, and spectacular views, the luxury resort seemed like paradise in the middle of the jungle.
She stood waiting beside a colossal stone fountain that was carved into the shape of a lion’s head. The rippling water pouring from the beast’s mouth reminded her of the huge La Paz waterfall she’d seen when the plane had flown over Juan Santamaria Airport earlier.
When Roque told her he had a quick getaway planned, she had no idea he meant Costa Rica. This was even better for her plan. She’d had the entire plane ride to contemplate his proposal. Three days of hedonistic pleasure. The thought of him catering to her every sexual whim almost made her cream in her panties. Yes, she wanted it. She wanted him. She’d spend seventy-two hours with him, letting him indulge her every fantasy. Then, she’d return home and never have to speak to him again. No one need ever know. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. She had a voracious sexual appetite. Maybe she should have warned him.
No. She smiled to herself. Roque said he could handle her. She wanted to see what he had up his sleeves.
“I’ve always loved Costa Rica,” Roque said, pulling her from her erotic reverie. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been here. I never had a reason to come back until now.”
He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She didn’t have to ask the reason. She knew it was her.
“Just what kind of freaky nastiness do you have planned, Mr. Coleman?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just a few things that will make you scream my name.”
Heat flooded her body, settling into an insistent throb between her legs. “It takes a lot to make me scream.”
His blue eyes locked with hers. “I think I’m qualified for the job.”
She cocked her head to the side. “So, you think you can just whisk me away to some exotic country, put me up in a five star hotel and jump my bones?”
“Of course not. I already told you I do things with style and class.” He caressed her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “My plan was to whisk you away to some exotic country, put you in a villa at a five-star hotel, shower you with attention, ply you with liquor, lick every inch of you from your lips to your toes, and then jump your bones. After all, I do have my priorities, woman.”
Marlowe giggled. She didn’t know what to make of this side of Roque. He had a dry sense of humor that she somehow appreciated.
“Okay, so what’s first on the agenda?”
“Show you to your villa, and then you’ll get to see my volcano up close and personal.”
She almost choked. “So, is that how you refer to your…equipment? As a volcano?”
He chuckled. “ I have to admit, when we come together, it’s explosive, but this volcano is a real one.” He grasped one of her hands and led her to the nearby bank gold embossed elevators.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
“Yes.” He pressed the gold button for the elevator. “I’m going to take you to a real volcano. I call it my volcano because I worked with a firm years ago that helped create the name for the company that offers one of the tours.”
“Well, there’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I have only the clothes on my back. What am I supposed to wear to a volcano? Or better yet, for the next three days?”
Roque ushered her into the empty elevator and maneuvered her against the gold-mirrored walls. “If I had my way, you’d be wrapped in nothing but a sheet. I think you wear it well.”
Their hot gazes collided. He stroked her cheek, his finger trailing a path to the hollow of her throat. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
He’d said he was going to make her fantasies come true. She didn’t have any fantasies except to get fucked good and hard. She had no doubt Roque could do that.
The elevator doors opened to a wide hallway lined with a wall-to-wall plush carpet designed in tasteful blacks and golds. A tall, lean man dressed in a maroon suit and a crisp, white shirt stood a few feet away.
“Mr. Coleman? Ms. Jones, I’m Carlos, your pers
onal concierge. Allow me to escort you to your villas.”
Marlowe glanced at Roque. “Villas? Plural?”
He nodded. “I told Brett to book us in adjoining villas.”
“Follow me,” the concierge invited.
There was only one word to describe her villa. Breathtaking.
As Carlos led her through the impressive fifteen hundred square-foot space, Marlowe gaped in awe. Four pairs of French doors lining the opposite wall were left open, allowing the warm breeze to waft in. Wood and stone had been incorporated into the villa to create a true rainforest experience. She loved all the little details. Local artwork peppering the walls. Polished rock floors. Bamboo ceiling fans. Floor to ceiling windows. A secluded garden with a private pool fed by mineral springs. An outdoor daybed and hammock. A variety of greenery and colorful plants.
“The Nayara Hotel & Gardens is a 5-star member of Small Luxury Hotels of the World,” Carlos said. “We’ve been acclaimed as one of the most romantic places in the world. Our hospitality, impeccable service, fine cuisine, and amazing excursions make Nayara the premier destination in Costa Rica.”
He led her into the spacious bedroom, with wooden floors and a colossal four-poster bed with sheer curtains tied to the posts. The concierge walked to a pair of doors and opened them with a flourish. An enormous walk-in closet was on the other side. Several outfits hung inside.
“I believe these will fit you.”
Marlowe gawked at the vast array of swimsuits, sundresses, slacks and shorts. Even the shoes were included. Her eyes roamed across the many pairs of flip-flops, pumps, and sneakers.
“How did you know my size?” she asked.
Roque came up behind her. “Courtesy of your assistant, Penny.”
“I’m gonna have a talk with that girl.”
“Give her a raise while you’re at it,” he suggested.
She smirked, but was saved from a reply when Carlos took over once again.
“The spa is at your disposal,” he said. “No appointment is necessary for our VIP guests. And please feel free to take advantage of our custom tours. If you need me, please dial zero from your phone or call me anytime on my cell phone.”
He handed her a business card and then discreetly made his way from the villa.
Marlowe’s eyes flitted to the oversized bathroom back in the direction of the closet. She turned to Roque. “Really, do I need all these clothes for three days?”
“Is there no pleasing you, woman? First, you complain that you have nothing to wear. Now, you’re complaining about having too many outfits.”
She laughed. “You’re right.”
“Whoa! Let me write this on the calendar. Marlowe Jones admitted I was right about something.”
“Okay, don’t push it.”
He invaded her personal space, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “I told you. I’m taking care of all the details for the next three days. Relax and enjoy it.”
“I’m just not used to having someone plan everything. Usually, I’m the one in control.”
“Well, get used to me taking charge. I don’t give up control, especially in the bedroom.”
A spark of excitement coursed through her. “What about the bathroom?”
He grinned. “Is that a challenge?”
“Of course.”
“I like challenges.”
“I know.”
Roque swept her into his arms and carried her to the oversized tub. She held her breath as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest and a six-pack. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over his rock-hard abs. Her heart crashed against her ribs as she took in his hungry gaze. There was no mistaking what he wanted from her.
“What about dinner?” she teased.
“The feast I have in mind isn’t on any menu.”
Roque pulled her into his embrace and crushed her mouth to his. If their kiss on the plane was soft as raindrops, this one was a raging storm. His tongue swept inside her mouth, demanding entry. Her lips parted and she eagerly succumbed, allowing him unadulterated access. They explored each other’s mouths, tasting, nibbling, stroking. Her mouth was fused tightly to his. She couldn’t get enough of him.
As his hands roamed the contours of her body, heat erupted between her thighs. Roque’s fingers were like kindling, stroking the embers of a potentially dangerous fire. Then, as suddenly as he’d pulled her into his arms, he abruptly released her.
His husky voice penetrated the sensual fog surrounding her. “Do you still want to stop and eat dinner?”
Breathless, she gazed into his eyes. Her heart pounded in her ears like a steel drum. Her coochie throbbed relentlessly. “To hell with dinner. All I want to taste is you.”
Roque’s heart palpitated upon hearing Marlowe’s admission. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward her again. This time, she was the aggressor, sliding her tongue smoothly into his mouth. He accepted her invitation, placing his hands on her waist and grinding his pelvis against hers. He was harder than concrete, and he wanted her to know it. He suckled her tongue, diving deep, then pulling back to tease and nibble her lips, then delving back in deep again.
He’d planned to romance her and then show her a night of passion she wouldn’t forget. But the sight of her made his blood run hot with need. No dinner was going to sate the kind of hunger he had right now.
Unable to slow the speeding locomotive of lust inside him, Roque yanked the snaps on her dress, causing the soft material to slide from her body to the tiled marble floor. Her voluptuous breasts sat high on her chest, supported by an intricate contraption of wire and lace that unhooked from the front.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
He dipped his head low and feasted, showering each dark nipple with lavish attention. He pulled the puckered buds into his mouth and softly licked and caressed each one. He liked it rough, but he had enough sense to slow down when it came to sampling a woman’s breasts. He planned on kissing every inch of Marlowe’s delectable skin until she begged for mercy.
But Marlowe was no innocent bystander. Roque quickly found out she wasn’t the type of female to lay back and wait for a man to service her. She boldly explored his body, reaching inside his pants and fondling his stiff erection. When he felt her slender fingers wrap around his penis, he growled with pleasure.
It was obvious they wanted each other badly. Foreplay was divided in half as they frantically sought each other’s pleasure zones. Within minutes, Roque had her panties off. He pushed her up against the shower wall. He’d seen her naked body before, but the fact that she was hot and ready to be fucked sent him into overdrive. He reached into his back pocket for the foil packet he’d put there earlier. He quickly sheathed himself. Bursting with need, he thrust himself inside her. A sea of milky wetness greeted him as he pushed deep. His pride soared when he heard Marlowe’s gasp of pleasure pierce the air. Her reaction fueled his movements. He was glad to know he made her feel as good as she was making him feel.
He plunged in, driving deeply and thrusting harder with each successive stroke. Marlowe clasped her legs around his back, her silky thighs pulling him further into her wet center.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed. “Let me in.”
She answered by digging the tips of her nails into the meat of his deltoids. The pain was pleasurable, spurring him to increase his frenzied pace. He cupped her ass with both hands as he drove into her, using the wall for leverage.
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed.
He’d found her sweet spot. He relentlessly pumped with rapid thrusts. He refused to stop until he assured her ultimate satisfaction. His grunts of pleasure mingled with her high-pitched peals of ecstasy. He stroked faster, harder, deeper, stronger. And Marlowe encouraged him, by opening wide, and thrusting her pelvis against his. She matched his rhythm. Her slick walls eagerly welcomed him, allowing him to effortlessly slide in and out with no resistance.
Too late, he found himself in trou
ble. He was falling into a sweet vortex he couldn’t escape from—nor did he want to. A red-hot heat consumed him, engulfing his body in flames. He fought to maintain control, but he lost it when he felt the urgent spasms of Marlowe’s pussy pulsating and throbbing around his dick.
She cried out, riding the wave of an orgasm and shuddering against him.
His violent climax followed hers, a raw explosion that rocked him to his core.
“Marlowe!” he called out hoarsely.
He held tightly to her, savoring the pulsating rhythm of his release as it finally ebbed from a violent eruption to slow-moving lava.
Afterwards, they lay spooning each other on the massive bed, the cleft of Marlowe’s backside resting erotically against the base of his cock. Roque stroked her hair as a feeling of unease gnawed at his gut. This was supposed to be a pleasurable weekend. He’d planned to rock her world. Get her out of his system. Take her back to Miami and be done with her. But he knew from being with her one time, that mission wouldn’t be so easy. Marlowe wasn’t the kind of woman a man could forget. In his quest to dominate her, he’d gotten caught up. Shouting her name like some pussy-whipped lover. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He had to regain control, soon.
TWELVE
Marlowe couldn’t believe it. This had to be a record for the fastest orgasm for her. She stood on unsteady knees. She should have known Roque Coleman would deliver on his promise to fulfill her fantasies. The man’s technique should be trademarked. She’d never been fucked so good in her life. No, it had to be the newness of it. The first time with a man was always exciting. It was a time for exploring each other’s bodies and finding each other’s hot spots. Well, Roque had found hers!
She watched as he turned the water on. He had the right idea. A hot shower was just what she needed. She was already naked. Somehow, she’d ended up with no clothes on. It might have had something to do with Roque hastily unsnapping her dress and ripping her panties off. He, on the other hand, still had his shirt on, and had pulled his trousers up.
Yield to Love Page 10