“You should model,” she said, continuing to run the palms of her hands over the male perfection in front of her.
He laughed. “Not hardly, but thank you.”
“I’m serious, Brock. You are…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she leaned over and placed a kiss over his heart. Even as she did, her fingers played on the mogul course below.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned in a gravelly voice.
“Maybe I am a secret pyromaniac.” She licked his nipple and watched it harden.
He groaned. “Worst kept secret ever.”
If she licked his nipple again, he was going to throw her over his shoulder, caveman style, and haul her straight to his bed. To heck with finesse. Lust roiled in his gut like a dragon waking up after being asleep for a couple hundred centuries. Once awake, it demanded to be fed.
“I’m feeling a little underdressed,” he said, slipping his hands under her shirt. His fingers flexed against her warm, soft flesh. Her breathing quickened as he glided his hands up her ribcage until the backs of his fingers brushed the underside of her breasts.
He got a glimpse of her dilated eyes before she shut them and gave herself over to his ministrations. The corners of his lips twisted up as the dragon inside shot flames of desire through his veins. He pulled his hands back until he reached the shirt’s hem and began lifting it over her head. He moved slowly, giving her time to protest or object. Instead, she mimicked him and raised her arms over her head to facilitate removal.
There was hardly any blood remaining in his brain for rational thought. It seemed that every drop had collected below his waist. His dick strained at his zipper as though demanding to be released.
Once her shirt was gone, he got his first glimpse of her peach–colored lace bra. His knees went a little unsteady at the vision of this beautiful blonde in front of him with her eyes closed, a Mona Lisa smile on her mouth and her full, luscious breasts moving sensually up and down with each breath. That changed when he covered each breast with a hand. She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long, stuttering sigh.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and lowered his mouth to one lace–covered nipple. He sucked her through the material while he plucked the other breast with his fingertips.
He could feel her heart pounding against his lips. He had to taste her…now. He pushed the bra up and her fleshy breasts fell into his hands. Caressing and squeezing them had the last ounce of blood in his body racing to his cock. He was so hard it was almost painful.
He lowered his mouth to her flesh and sucked. She groaned and reached out to stroke him through his shorts. There was no way he was going to be able to move slowly, to take his time seducing her. He wanted to be inside her. Wanted to feel her velvet channel surrounding him.
Something vibrated against his groin and interrupted his thoughts.
Ignore it, his penis demanded.
But Natalie gently pushed him away. “I’m sorry. I need to answer that. My parents are on their first cruise and they promised to call when they made port. Sorry.”
Brock stepped back. Natalie pulled her phone from her shorts and answered.
“Hello?”
Her face solidified into a solemn frown. Her sexy, playful voice took on a no–nonsense, in–control tone.
“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, her back to him. As she spoke, she pulled her bra back into place. “I can’t help it if Bambi found someone younger, richer and better looking.” She paced across the living room to stare out the windows overlooking the ocean. “Tiffany. Bambi. Whatever. Look, Tim I’m sorry for you. Really I am, but no. You can’t come to Memphis.”
Brock found his shirt and slipped it back over his head.
“No, I’m not coming to California. We’re divorced. We’ve been divorced for two years.” There was a pause in the conversation. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not your lodestar. You need to find someone else to ground you instead of me. No. No. I mean it, Tim. Stop calling.”
Her shoulders sagged and she blew out a long sigh. “Yes, that’s the way it has to be.”
She clicked off her phone and shoved it back in her pocket.
“Nothing like a bucket of cold water to put out a fire,” she said, still staring out the window. “Sorry to have ruined the evening.” Finally she turned to face him. “You don’t have to see me home.”
The sexual flush that’d colored her cheeks was gone. The Mona Lisa smile had been replaced with a sad, apologetic one.
His raging erection had sagged to half–mast as he realized this evening had just taken a different turn.
“I’m sorry, Brock. I shouldn’t have answered the call.”
He poured two fingers of bourbon and walked it over to her. “Of course you had to answer it. Drink this and then we’ll have dinner.”
Her brow furrowed. “You still want to have dinner?” /
“Prime rib with all the fixings. And Key Lime Pie for dessert. Take it or leave it.” He kissed her. “Stay. I’d like you to.”
She downed the bourbon. “I’d like to stay. Thank you.”
Chapter Seven
Natalie lay in bed not wanting to move. But after last night’s dinner and pie, her ass would require an entire row of seats on the plane home if she didn’t run. She looked at the clock. Five–forty–five. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up with a long sigh. Where were her mother’s awesome thin genes? Unfortunately Natalie had inherited her paternal grandmother’s love of cooking and sweets, along with her propensity for fat storage in her butt and thighs.
Last night had been, well, incredible, up until Tim called. She’d been prepared for questions but Brock hadn’t asked. They’d had dinner, talked about everything but the elephant in the room, and she’d appreciated his lack of inquiry.
After slipping on a clean shirt, shorts and jogging shoes, she headed out to face the slog around the resort. Her heart leapt and she stopped short when she came across Brock sitting on her bottom step. Damn. How did that man look so delicious at this freaking early hour?
“What are you doing here?”
Brock stood, his pristine white T–shirt straightening and stretching over all those muscles she’d had the pleasure of touching last night. “Waiting for you.” He took a pointed look at his watch and then back to her. “Running a little late this morning, are we?”
She laughed. “We are not wanting to run at all this morning, late or not.”
“Me neither and that’s why I’m here. I needed the foot in the ass to get going.”
She jumped off the bottom step and deepened her voice. “Okay buddy. Let’s get a move on. Daylight’s a–burning.”
They started their run out on a slow jog. The sand and shell covering cracked and shifted with each step.
“I enjoyed dinner last night,” Natalie said. “Thanks again.”
“Me too. You interested in trying it again, only maybe this time without the phone?”
She lost a step then got back into rhythm. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“You ready to talk about it?”
Not ever, was what she wanted to say. Instead she said, “It’s hard to explain but I’ll try.”
As they ran she told him her life story. She’d met Tim Evers in high school and how they’d been together every day until their divorce. Tim had been her first. She’d loved him but he’d grown up in a family of boys with no maternal influence. He craved female attention. Loved to flirt. They’d broken up in college for a week but he’d come back begging her to marry him. She had and for a while, everything had been cake and ice cream.
But then she’d discovered Tim had been having an affair with a woman from work. He swore it’d never happen again so Natalie had taken him back. Of course a tiger can’t change his stripes.
The next time Natalie found out about an affair, she’d kicked him out. Tim had been remorseful, begging and, like a fool, she took him back. It wasn’t that Natalie was opposed to divorce but
she’d given the majority of her years to a relationship with Tim and she wanted the dream marriage.
They moved to Southern California to give the marriage a fresh start. Tim found God and dragged her to one of the mega–churches week after week. For about eighteen months, things had seemed fine but…
She looked at Brock. “That old tiger–stripes issue. But this time, Tim was having an affair with the preacher’s daughter.”
“And this would be Bambi?”
Natalie actually laughed and it felt good. “No, it was Honey. The girl’s actual name is Bertilia Imelda Godbehere.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Named after saints. Anyway, she was so sweet that everyone called her Honey.”
Brock made a gagging sound which made Natalie snort.
“Yeah. Me too. Anyway, Honey has gotten used to having money and spending it like she printed it herself. Tim has pretty much gone through every penny he has, and Honey is getting the roving eye, which is, of course, sauce for the gander. He wanted to come to Memphis or me to come to Southern California to make Honey jealous and she’d take him back. Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“When did you move to Memphis?”
“After the divorce. Moved into the family home and my parents headed south for a beachfront condo and the good life.”
“Can I say that your ex–husband is not only an ass, but a fool?”
“Sure. I say it all the time.”
“And so, the ex is in the past?”
“Oh God, yes. We’re done. He knows that but he was pretty drunk and desperate last night.”
Brock didn’t say anything. Finally Natalie asked, “Does it bother you that I’m divorced?”
“Nope. Just thinking about how very stupid your ex must be to have left you.”
“Thank you.”
By now they’d passed the castle and an area they’d learned was a small community of exclusive private homes.
“When I was booking the parasailing yesterday, the gal told me about a path that almost nobody knows about. It’s open to the public but so close to the private area that it’s pretty much overlooked. She said to look for a blue rock on the right just past the house with the red tile roof.”
Natalie giggled. “Have you looked at these houses? They all have red tile roofs.”
And they did. Nonetheless, Natalie spotted the rock and they turned right. The path led out to a shaded lane that ran along the beach. Fresh sea air rolled in with the waves crashing on shore. Birds flew above the azure water, diving periodically for a fish meal.
“This is beautiful.”
Brock grunted. “Yeah, but this loose sand is hell to run in. Let’s back off the pace a little and enjoy the view.”
Natalie immediately dropped to a walk and gasped in a breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”
After a couple of minutes of silent walking, Natalie asked, “What’s on your agenda for today?” She pulled her T–shirt up and wiped her sweaty face.
He mimicked her action, then said, “Whatever you’re doing, if that’s okay with you.”
“Well…” She wrinkled her nose. “I was going to go to the beach for some sun and while you’re welcome to join me…” She took a pointed look at his white legs. “I am a little worried you’ll fry like a chicken leg in grease.”
She quit worrying that she’d offended him when he burst out laughing.
“What? Pasty white legs ain’t your thang?”
She laughed.
“It’s winter, babe. Jeans and boots all the time at home. But I’ll be fine. My sister packed a bottle of SPF fifty in my suitcase.”
“Lauren, right?”
He nodded. “Right. She’s been a ranch gal all her life. She knows what happens to the summer tans come winter.”
“Race you back?” she asked, starting to jog in place.
They took off at a run back toward their cabins but stopped for breakfast as they passed the castle. It was almost ten when Natalie walked over to Brock’s cabin and knocked.
“Come in,” he yelled.
She opened the door. “I’m headed down.”
Brock came out wearing a pair of board shorts and a muscle shirt.
“Where’s your SPF fifty? We aren’t leaving without it.”
His cheeks tinged pink when he held up a bottle with the picture of a baby on it. “I’m going to kill my sister.”
The bottle was a special formula to protect delicate baby skin. Natalie grinned. “Sounds like she was worried about your baby–smooth, delicate skin.”
Brock laughed. “I don’t want to talk about it. C’mon.” He threw an arm around her shoulders. “And I rented us a tent cabana in case we start getting too much sun.”
She snaked an arm around his waist. “What a great idea. Thanks.”
The scent of soap and clean man swirled around her and made her squeeze in a little tighter.
When they got to the beach, there were a number of brightly striped canvas cabanas erected with sides that would raise or lower by pulley. Each one had a sign attached. It didn’t take long to find the one labeled Wade and Diamond. In fact, it was set up right behind Natalie’s cabin.
Inside the cabana the sand had been covered with an outdoor rug. Sitting on the rug were two beach recliners with cushions and two towels. Each chair had its own table. On one of the tables was a portable radio.
“Okay,” Natalie said looking around. “Now I’m impressed.”
Brock nodded. “They do it right here.”
“What’s the radio for?” Natalie asked, pointing to the electronic device.
“Beachside service. If we need drinks or food or towels, we can call in and someone will bring it down to us.”
“Totally ridiculous. I love it.”
“Want me to move your chair out into the sun?”
“Please. I’m not going to be out long. Want to come or are you going to be smart and stay in the shade?”
“After you made fun of my legs? Ha,” Brock said with a mock scowl. “I’m doing neither. I’m headed out to the ocean. You want to get wet?”
Natalie choked a little as her mind went to a totally inappropriate response. She swallowed hard. “I think I’ll work on my tan.”
He got her set up on the beach with her chair, towel and the radio. When he stripped off his shirt to head to the water, she licked her lips. Man–oh–man. She had to figure out a way to see the rest of him.
Damn Tim. She might have had her chance last night if he hadn’t called.
As Brock made his way to the water’s edge, she noticed a number of other women in the area giving him decidedly lusty looks. The man could have any of those women with a flex of his finger…or his biceps. Why was he with her? There were better looking women here and many with much better figures than hers.
She watched him swim into the waves, his strong back muscles popping and bulging with each stroke. Damn she was drawn to him. She had to stop staring at him before he caught her. She forced herself to lie back on the recliner and soak up some rays. Meanwhile she let a little erotic fantasy run in her brain like a movie.
Cold water dripped on her chest. She screamed and sat up. Brock grinned at her. Around her, the wind had picked up quite a bit.
“Storm’s coming,” Brock said.
Natalie rolled to her side and looked up into dark clouds. She frowned. “When did those roll in?”
“Just now. You were asleep. Thought we’d better–”
The skies took that moment to open the floodgate. What felt like buckets of water poured over her head and body. Natalie jumped from her chair, laughing. A bolt of lightning hit the water, followed closely by a deafening roar of thunder. The wind howled around them, the whipped sand stinging her legs.
“We need to get in out of this,” Brock yelled. He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”
Around them, other guests were racing off the beach to shelter. Resort employees were scurrying to store chairs, umbr
ellas and cabanas before they could be lifted into the ocean.
“Where’s our cabana?” she asked as they jogged past the site where it’d been earlier.
“Helped one of the guys take it down. I’ve been watching this storm coming on for a while. I wanted to let you get as much tanning as you could today since this storm will last the rest of the night.”
“And you know this how?” she yelled over the wind.
“Years of watching storms. When you have cattle to take care of, you learn about things like that.”
They hustled down the path toward Brock’s cabin. By now, they were both drenched. There wasn’t a square inch on Natalie that wasn’t wet, and that pretty much entailed everywhere on her body. Brock’s large hand wrapped around her fingers as he hurried toward his cabin. From her towed perspective, his tight ass looked down–right fabulous. She jerked on his hand to get his attention.
“Slow down,” she called. “We can’t get any wetter.”
He stopped and looked at her, and then smiled. “You’re not like most women.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re not freaking out that your hair’s wet or that you’ve got mascara running down your face.”
“I do?” She swiped at her cheeks but her hand came back clean. Then she remembered she wore waterproof mascara.
He laughed, and stepped up until her breasts were brushing his chest. Capturing her face between his hands, he attacked her mouth, licking and nibbling and sucking her tongue into his mouth. Her legs became so rubbery it was a wonder she could stand.
Natalie ran her hands up his chest, the feel of water sluicing down the firm muscles in his chest sending her mouth into a frenzy on his.
His hands slipped from her face and down her arms until he held her ass in the palms of his hands. He pulled her against the bulge in his boarder shorts. He didn’t have to pull that hard. Natalie ground her aching groin against his hardness.
He pulled back until their gazes met. “I want you,” he said. “I want you in my bed in every position we can think of. If you don’t want that, speak now.”
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 35