by Mia London
A moan slipped passed her lips, and she wished she could reach down to take care of the blossoming need at her sex. Maybe she would have a use for the vibe after all.
After several minutes, he re-covered her leg, and she feared the massage was over. That was sixty minutes? Damn! But it was so good. Worth every blessed penny! Every one of Jack’s pennies!
She felt his breath at her ear, and his hand at her lip. “Lift your hips and I will slide a pillow underneath.”
Confused, she met his gaze. “My massage isn’t over?”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to be finished. If you’ll let me, I can help you. Help you to completely relax.” He spoke the words in a most professional manner, but his deep chocolate eyes told a different story. “Would you like my help, Cat?”
Holy crap! Was he offering what she thought he was offering? Her heart pounded against her ribcage. What should she do? She couldn’t allow this. No. But wouldn’t a release be welcome right now? NO.
Ugh. She somehow knew she could trust him. Trust that he could take care of her need and yet expect nothing more.
And she had to admit, any amount of trust in a man right now was huge.
But was she crazy to do this? This was off the charts of adventurous, right?
Double holy crap!
She licked her lips and, taking a chance, she nodded.
She raised her hips off the table slightly. He slid his forearm under her, along her belly, and lifted her the rest of the way. With his other hand, he slipped a fluffy pillow under her hips.
She could only imagine what she looked like with her ass protruding off the table.
His hands returned to her ankles and feet. She remained covered as he slid underneath the blanket to massage her legs in long strokes. With each pass, he went higher, at the same time, he spread her legs a little farther apart. Up and down he went. His warm hands finally made it to her ass cheeks—one on each globe.
The blanket collected on her thighs. He made another pass—down to her ankles and slid back up to her ass. More blanket bunched at her hips. A cool breeze of air over her exposed sex sent a shiver through her.
Oh my. Another rush of moisture filled her sex. This had to be the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced. Her heart pounded.
Another pass over her legs and this time the blanket rested at her low back, completely exposing her sex and ass to him.
She lay on this table with her ass raised up, legs spread, and his fingers working the tiny muscles at the top of her thighs. Finally, one strong finger glossed through her slit, spreading her moisture around.
“Oh,” she breathed.
He so gently stroked her slit with his fingers, making brief passes over her clit and bringing the whole area alive. She heard him shift, even as his fingers stayed in place. His voice was at her ear. “May I use my tongue?”
Oh, mercy. His fingers never stopped moving. Thinking became difficult. If this man was as talented with his tongue as he was with his fingers, she would die and go to heaven.
She replayed her new mantra: Be adventurous. She took in air. “Yes,” she whispered.
He maneuvered to the end of the table again, and his fingers gently spread her apart. In a beat, his tongue was on her clit. She moaned aloud.
Glorious. In no time, he would have her coming. His tongue massaged over her clit and through her core, poking inside and swirling around.
Her breath escalated to panting.
His strong hands spread her farther apart, but not to the point of pain. His tongue never stopped the delicious torture.
“Sebastian,” she breathed.
He didn’t let up, and she knew she was closing in on something spectacular. Leveraging her arms, she lifted her ass even more. He groaned.
He applied more pressure with his tongue, and God help her, she didn’t want it to end. This had to be the best oral sex she’d ever received.
As if sensing her desires, Sebastian left her clit and continued his licks in areas nearby: soft parts of skin, her smooth ass cheeks, and over her lips.
He returned to her clit more gently this time. He teased her, and Cat’s clit swelled, longing for friction. Longing for release.
Without notice, the slow creep of her orgasm began, sending a warmth throughout her body. Building and building, she finally exploded, muffling her scream into the headrest. She was fairly sure she squirted on Sebastian’s tongue.
Slowly, her muscles relaxed, and her hips lowered back onto the pillow.
Sebastian carefully covered her body and slipped the pillow out from under her hips. His hands traveled several times over the sheet on her back.
“Take as much time as you need. This room is vacant for another hour.” He leaned closer. “Cat, look at me.”
Did she have to? She was a little freaked. Mortified, really. She raised her head to find Sebastian’s mere inches away.
“You are exquisite,” he said in a low tone. “You are beautiful inside and out. Don’t ever believe otherwise.” He lifted the back of her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “You are absolutely beautiful when you come. You will make some man incredibly, insanely happy.” His smile was sweet and genuine. He kissed her hand one last time before he straightened to leave.
Whoa! What was that? The most incredible orgasm, given to her by an exotic, sexy stranger, and it felt positively euphoric. Out of this world. She exhaled. This would be a day Cat would not soon forget.
In a strange way, she felt powerful, and her self-confidence rose. What if the compliments from Sebastian were real? Not some flowery crap to make her feel good because he wanted a big tip.
Her whole body hummed with the after-glow of her orgasm, but it was more than that. The way he’d moved over her naked body made her feel beautiful. The way she’d come so easily? Empowered.
She sat up, leaving the blanket on the table. She felt new.
That was pretty adventurous, huh?
She chuckled quietly—taking a chance had paid off.
Her story wasn’t yet written. She got to decide the end. She could decide what would happen next. She wouldn’t let Jackass Jack determine her future or her worth.
She didn’t need Sebastian and his marvelous gift to figure all of this out. She would have gotten there in her own time, eventually. She reached for her shorts. Sooner was better than later.
Cat spied a small resting alcove off to the side, with a perfect view of the ocean and far enough away from the pool to have some quiet where she could enjoy her after-massage glow.
With her sketchpad in hand, she approached the poolside bartender. “I’d like a fruit smoothie?”
“Absolutely, miss,” he replied with a smile.
“Great, can you deliver it over there?” She pointed across the ginormous pool to the cozy area partitioned by shrubbery.
“The Palm Patio. Yes, miss.”
She meandered along the concrete path. “The Palm Patio,” she whispered. “I like it.”
She chose a wrought iron table and sank down into the chair, smiling at the only other couple. They were so caught up in each other they hardly noticed her.
No doubt newlyweds, Cat thought.
With a sigh, she opened her sketchbook and reminded herself not to think about cheating assholes and jilted brides-to-be.
The bartender delivered her fruit smoothie and confirmed her room number.
She forgot to say “no straw”, but next time. She sipped. Wow! The mango and peach awakened her taste buds. She took another sip. After her incredible morning, she didn’t want a heavy lunch. Sweet, cool, and refreshing. This hit the spot.
Staring at the blank page, her mind wandered freely. What did she want to sketch? She pulled a medium charcoal from her box and began with some simple lines—straight and curved.
She tilted her head to the side. She added some short strokes, layering them horizontally. Smudging lightly for effect. Her palm tree was taking shape. Maybe she’d add another one so it wa
sn’t lonely.
The lines came slowly. She was a little rusty, having spent zero time on her craft in the last year. But it felt good just the same. She barely noticed someone hovering close until a shadow covered half her pad.
She stopped and lifted her head. The person who stood beside her was the same man she’d seen in the elevator the day before.
“I’m sorry to bother you. That’s very good.” He spoke with no detectable island accent. He smiled, and his gaze traveled from her sketch to her eyes.
“Thanks.”
He shifted his water glass to his left hand and offered his right. “Nicholas Westbrook.”
She wiped her hand on her napkin and shook his. “Catherine Dalton.”
“Nice to meet you, Catherine.” He nudged his chin toward her sketchbook. “Is this a job or a hobby?”
He slipped off his sunglasses. His blue eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight, their hue as rich as the ocean before her. His dark brown hair had a shine that any woman would envy.
“Please call me Cat. And this is more hobby than anything.”
He took a seat at the table next to hers. “Well, you’re very talented.”
The corners of her lips pulled upward. She hadn’t had a compliment on her art in a long time. She missed it. “Thank you.”
“What do you do when you’re not creating art?”
“I’m a paralegal. What do you do?”
“I work for a wine and liquor distributor—this is my sales territory. I like to stay at this resort and branch out from here. Over the next three weeks, I’ll cover several of the Caribbean Islands.”
That explains the logo shirts.
A waitress arrived carrying what looked like a jerk chicken salad and placed it before him. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
“No. This is great.” He turned toward Cat. “What brings you to Saint Lucia?”
Shit! She hadn’t planned for this. She hadn’t expected to have to answer these kinds of questions. She swallowed hard. “It was supposed to be my honeymoon.”
He paused. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean, best to learn now than later.”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. “You caught him cheating?”
“Yup.”
“Damn.” He shook his head back and forth several times.
They sat in silence for a while. She sketched while he ate. When he was finished, he asked. “How’d you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“You gotta eat, right? So do I. We could just eat together.” The sheepish grin that crossed his face was pretty adorable, Cat had to admit.
This wasn’t what this trip was about. It’s just dinner. She lifted a shoulder. “Okay.” Why not? The company might be nice.
“Great. How about we meet at the Seaside restaurant at seven. That will give me time to visit a few more clients on the island, and you time for sketching,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll meet you there.”
He dropped his napkin on the table and rose to offer his hand. “Nice to meet you, Cat Dalton. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“See you soon.”
She watched him leave and couldn’t help but notice what a nice backside he had. She wasn’t in the market for a man. God, no. But if she was going to be alone for two weeks, an occasional someone to talk to might be good.
As she returned to her sketch, she thought, it’s just dinner.
“So where are you from?” Nicholas asked as the waiter refilled their wine glasses.
“Austin. Lived there all my life. What about you?” She scooped up some rice pilaf and chewed. Everything tasted exquisite, so fresh. The smoothie at lunch hadn’t stayed with her long enough.
“Orlando. I actually moved there for this job five years ago. They wanted someone close to cover the islands.”
“So you go around from resort to resort?”
He sipped his chardonnay. “Yup. Resorts, hotels, and several restaurants and bars.”
“Wow. Cool job.”
He gave her a nod. “It can be. Of course, it creates a challenge when trying to sustain a relationship.”
“Ah, yes. The traveling salesman.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her cloth napkin and returned it to her lap.
Swallowing his bite of shrimp, he blotted his lips and met her gaze. “Mind if I ask what happened? With the ex.”
“No. Not much to tell.” She tipped her head, debating how much crap she wanted to off-load on unsuspecting Nicholas. “We’d been dating for just about two years. I caught him with some blonde two days before we were supposed to get married.”
“Ouch. What an asshole.” His face scrunched up like he’d swallowed a cockroach.
“He said I wasn’t adventurous enough. Not a risk taker.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks,” she replied nonchalantly, trying to keep some emotional distance from the whole incident. Not to mention, any sort of breakdown at the restaurant would likely be frowned upon.
“So he was trying to cram in as much fun as he could before getting hitched.”
She took a long drink from her glass and pointed straight at him. “Bingo.”
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I actually think most times men bring that out of their women. Or visa-versa. It’s something they share together. But if the woman trusts the man, she’s more willing to try new things. If the trust isn’t there, it makes it harder to step out of your comfort zone. In my opinion.”
She’d never thought of it that way. Nicholas wasn’t trying to make any assumptions about her and Jack. In fact, he just might have a point, but regardless, she would take some time before she even needed to question trusting a guy in a relationship again. She’d thought she could trust Jack… Anyway, relationships were going on the back burner for a while.
The conversation flowed through the rest of dinner effortlessly. Cat pushed back in her chair, relaxed, sipping her wine as the waiter cleared their plates.
An odd sort of peace and realization came over her. Anytime she’d gone to dinner with Jack, she sat straight and always looked attentive or interested in anything he had to say. Had she been trying too hard and not really being herself?
Nah. That wasn’t possible. It wasn’t like she’d been uncomfortable sitting forward in her chair to listen to him. Still, there may have been a few times she’d wanted to roll her eyes as Jack told his football stories or his near-death skydiving tale yet again. But didn’t all couples go through that? Eventually one knew all their partner’s stories, right?
“Would you like some dessert, Cat?”
“No thanks. I’m stuffed. The sea bass was incredible.”
“Good. I’m glad you liked it.” He motioned the waiter for the check. Although everything was included in their stay at the resort, they were still expected to sign the bill. “Would you like to work off some of the dinner with a walk along the beach?”
That sounded suspiciously like a date, but she was only here for another eleven days, so what harm could it cause? Nothing monumental could happen in such a small about of time.
“Sure. Sounds nice.”
They walked out to the patio, past the pool, to the edge of the sandy beach.
“Want to take off your sandals?” He sat on the lounger and slipped off his shoes.
She did, and hooked the straps of her shoes over her fingers.
They strolled along the beach, mostly empty of tourists. The sun would set in about thirty minutes.
He gently steered her to the right, letting his hand linger on her waist.
An inexplicable shiver raced down her spine.
His hand dropped as they casually walked side by side. “So have you done much since you arrived?”
She dipped her head to hide the blush she felt rush to her cheeks. Celeste might not even hear about her spontaneous and surprising massage. “Um, not really. Just arrived Sunday
.”
“Well, there’s a great flea market, if you like that kind of thing. Plus water and rainforest excursions.”
She looked over at him. The dusky light shined in his eyes making the hue a stunning sapphire blue, drawing her in and making it hard to turn away.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Heat rose in her cheeks again. “No. Sorry.” She faced straight ahead. “I actually made an itinerary of sorts. And the concierge recommended some cool buildings I might want to draw.”
“Excellent.”
“Yup. Tomorrow I plan to have a driver take me downtown to an old courthouse.”
Nicholas nodded, and they continued their stroll, passing hotels and resorts, office buildings, and a few people lounging on towels or chairs. He asked a few more questions about her art and when she’d learned to draw.
They stopped as the sun dipped low in the horizon, creating a beautiful kaleidoscope of ambers and orange-reds against a deep-blue sky.
“This is one of the coolest things about my job,” he mused.
She smiled. “No doubt. Mother Nature at its finest.”
Nicholas turned to face her. “Cat, I can’t imagine what you must be going through. I mean, if something like that happened to me just before I was supposed to get married, I would be brimming with anger and hurt.” He inhaled. “I don’t know why you decided to go on your honeymoon anyway, but I’m really glad you did. I don’t want to crowd you, but would you like to have dinner with me the day after tomorrow? Tomorrow night, I’ll be in Antigua.”
Did she want to go down that road? She wasn’t here for romance. She’d come to get away from hurt, anger, embarrassment, and frankly to rethink some key beliefs in her life that just may be holding her back in the future. Holding her back from being her best self.
She nibbled on her lip. Would sharing dinner with Nicholas really prevent her from accomplishing her goals?
She gazed out at the ocean. “Why not?”
He grinned. “Perfect.”
They strolled on, enjoying the melodic sounds of the gentle waves washing in and out. They talked more about his work and hers, a little bit about some movies they’d each seen, and what they were looking forward to. Although he had family all over the country, most of her family was in Texas.