Quick & Dirty

by Whitley Cox

  The further I got into the lobby, the more I liked my idea. I was going to fuck away my worries. Fuck away my problems. Use someone else to exorcise the plague that was Xavier Rollins from my mind, my body and my soul. Now I just had to find the right guy . . .

  “Hello, and welcome to The Windward Hibiscus Hotel. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Eyes as green as the surrounding mountains flared with curiosity and perhaps a dollop of fear. But I hardly took notice of his eyes and their long camel lashes, because the rest of him was just that handsome . . . no, handsome wasn’t the right word . . . yummy? Delicious? Sex on a stick? No, he wasn’t a stick. Too much muscle to be a stick. A sex god? Yeah . . . this guy was a walking, talking, sex god. He just had to be. Tall and dreamy with just a hint of danger. Muscles, toned and hard, threatened to rip right out of his crisp white dress shirt, while stubble, thick and impeccably groomed, covered his jaw, cheeks and upper lip.

  Oh mama! You, you are exactly what I’m looking for.

  Without even thinking, I gave him my best assertive stare. “Yes!” I said with a huff, lifting my head just a tad to look him in the eye. He was a good six inches or so taller than me. “You can take me into the nearest broom closet and fuck me senseless.”

  “Uh . . . ” he said back, his dark brown eyebrows nearly shooting clear off his head.

  I shook my head and shrugged. “Or I can go find someone else. A pool boy or landscaper.” If I were to guess by the nice designer shoes, expensive shirt and the way he greeted me, he was probably high up on the management chain. But that was okay, I could slum it just this once. Hotel managers had needs, too. And if anything, I’d bet he’d be even more discreet than a guest, not wanting it to get back to his boss, Mr. McAllister.

  I watched as his eyes slowly, appreciatively raked my body from head to toe, a big smile spreading across his mouth as his gaze landed on my breasts. I made a noise in my throat, and his head snapped back up.

  “So? Broom closet?”

  Hunger glittered in his eyes while challenge curved his lips. “Well, if you’re a guest, we can just check into your room.”

  I shook my head. “I am a guest. But no, no names for now. Broom closet, or I’ll find someone else.”

  His chest shook with laughter as he grabbed my hand without hesitation. His other hand reached for my suitcase, and soon he was pulling both me and it down a wide and airy corridor, past a few restaurants, what looked to be a spa, a couple of banquet rooms and a library before he stopped in front of a big wooden door. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a key ring and, after a few seconds of fumbling, slid the key into the knob. It clicked, and he pushed the door open.

  “I think a lady deserves more than a broom closet, don’t you think?” We were in a small but very nice room with a baby grand piano, a loveseat and two chairs. “This room is soundproof. It’s where musicians who come here to play practice and warm up.”

  The room was windowless, but the walls were a soft gray, and three of the four held big, beautiful paintings of the islands and ocean. So, even though there was no view of the outside, the room wasn’t suffocating or stuffy.

  I spun around to face him, swallowing hard at just how gorgeous he was. And the look he was giving me—pure lust.

  He left my suitcase near the door and took a couple of steps toward me. “You can back out, you know. I won’t judge you.” Another few steps. The gap between us closed quickly. I licked my lips. “Unless sex with a random stranger was on your list of things to do while you’re on the island.”

  My eyes went wide as they roamed his rock-hard body, finally landing on the front of his pants. I could see the telltale bulge, and I licked my lips again. He crept forward until we were less than a step away from each other, his body radiating heat and pheromones in such volume I was starting to feel a little woozy.

  “Do I get to know your name first?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m a guest. You work here. I’m sure you’ll find out eventually. But for now, no names. Just . . . this.” I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, rising up on my tippy-toes to get at his mouth.

  His lips crashed down onto mine as his hands made their way around my body, skimming my waist and hips, cupping my butt, bringing my pelvis closer to his. A growl rolled up from the depths of his chest and into my mouth, electrifying my body. He rocked against me, and I felt his hardness between us. Sparks shot through me, zinging out and landing between my legs. I couldn’t stop the moan that flowed from the back of my throat, and I grinded my body into his, loving the rush of adrenaline and the rush of need that coursed through me, awakening every cell and nerve ending. I hadn’t felt this alive in years, maybe ever. Xavier certainly never made me feel this way. Compared to this man, kissing Xavier had been like kissing a wrinkled mole rat.

  I let my hands travel up and around to his hair. It was lush and soft, with just a slight wave. I pulled ever so slightly, and he groaned against my lips, his mouth opening wider to let his velvety tongue sweep in and explore the recesses of my mouth.

  This was good, so good, but I wanted more. I’d asked him to fuck me senseless in a broom closet, and although we were several steps up from a broom closet, the rest of the request needed to be fulfilled. Letting my hands drift back down, I snaked them between us and went to work on his belt, needing to free him, to see him, to feel him. Was he big? Was he circumcised? Did it matter?

  Picking up on my vibe, he cupped my butt even more firmly and hoisted me up onto his hips, driving the two of us forward until my back and head abruptly hit the wall with a dull thud. He hiked my skirt up with one hand while I continued to work his belt and zipper.

  Finally, he was free.

  I couldn’t help but take a peek, and holy fuck, he was big.

  Like huge!

  My eyes flicked back up to his, and he grinned wide and cocky at me before finally shrugging.

  But then responsibility kicked in. That bitch.

  “Uh . . . condom?” I asked. Sex hadn’t been on the agenda for this trip, so I wasn’t packing.

  “Just a sec,” he murmured, pressing a knee between us and against the wall while shoving a hand into his pocket, his other one still firmly holding onto my butt cheek, long, nimble fingers digging into my plump flesh. Seconds later he came up victorious, a little black foil packet held between his finger and thumb.

  My feet hit the floor as he put me down. “Start without me. I’ll be with you in two shakes.” He ripped the pack open and quickly sheathed himself.

  Start without him?

  His gaze wandered back up to me and my chest heaved from the heat of his stare. “I said start without me. Touch yourself. I want to see you touch yourself.”

  Well, this was not going at all how I had thought.

  His hand came forward, and those strong fingers wrapped around mine. Then he ruffled up my skirt and guided my hand beneath the front of my panties.

  “Are you wet?”

  I swallowed. Holy fuck, this was so hot. And holy fuck, was I ever wet. I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “How wet?”

  My lips parted slightly, and my eyes threatened to roll into the back of my head when he pushed my fingers a little deeper and I brushed my clit.

  “Really wet,” I said, surprised at how out of breath I was.

  “Hmmm…” he hummed. “Let me see.” He pushed my fingers out of the way and began to explore on his own. My breath caught, and I moaned when he started rubbing delectable little circles around my clit, only to push farther down toward my core, dipping inside for just a moment before pulling back out. Playing with me, toying with me, gliding around with incredible ease. Exploring my pussy as if he owned it, as if he were mine and I was his and we hadn’t just met five minutes ago.

  “Now, how do you taste?” He pulled his digits free, but not before delivering one final pinch to my clit. I jerked, and my legs nearly flew out from under me.

  His chuckle was dia
bolical and deep, smooth like warm honey. I watched as his pupils took over his irises, black invading green the moment he slid those two wet fingers into his mouth and sucked off my arousal. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in all my life; the way he looked at me, in his eyes, in his mind I was completely naked, on my knees with his cock in my mouth. The thought ran rampant through my brain, but I quickly pushed it away.

  No. Not this time.

  Maybe if he could keep a secret from his boss, we could do this again and I’d do that, but right now it was about fucking. Hard and fast, quick and dirty.

  “Mmmm . . . so sweet,” he hummed, his tongue darting out to run along the seam of his sensuous lips, lapping up the last drops of me.

  My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, while my lungs burned and my mouth was all of a sudden incredibly dry. I let my eyes drift back down his body, landing on the thick, pulsing rod between us, encased in latex and poised to fuck. And again, my brain taking a backseat to my libido, I leaped up on to his hips and captured his lips with mine.

  He growled against my mouth as his hands made their way to my butt again. He tilted his hips and rocked against me while I used one free hand to move my thong to the side. Then, with a grunt and an inhale from the both of us, he was inside me.

  “Oh God!” I cried, my body taking over and starting to move as I rode his length up and down while his arms bunched and flexed under the strain of having to hold me up.

  “Fuck!” He snarled, his lips traveling along my cheek and neck before finding rest in that sweet spot where the neck meets the shoulder. He nipped at my skin, alternating between gentle kisses and savage bites. All the while, his hips continued to hammer into me, his pelvis shoving me hard against the wall in unrelenting thrusts. And I took each and every one, my body relishing the brutality of the way he took control, took possession.

  I bowed my back and pressed into him, my nipples hard, achy peaks against the fabric of my bikini top. He lifted his head from my neck and began to drop kisses along my collarbone, reaching inside my halter top and bikini top with one hand to draw out a diamond-hard bud, latching on and tugging with his teeth. I gasped from the delicious bite of pain.

  Yes, more!

  My body was a maelstrom. Everything felt incredible, from the way he kneaded my backside to the way his cock stroked inside me, coaxing out the orgasm with hard, measured thrusts. His mouth was hot and wet on my skin as he continued to suckle and lash at my nipples, alternating between harsh bites and soft licks, until I was gasping for air and practically begging him to stop, but also to never stop.

  I was close. So damn close. My clit throbbed, and the orgasm that brewed like a hot tropical storm in my belly was getting ready to unleash itself, preparing to devastate everything in its path and leave me as no more than a shell of a woman in its wake.

  “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin as his lips traveled back up to my neck. “You’re close. I can feel it. Let go.” He wedged a free hand between us, found my clit, pinched, and that was it. My body short circuited. I shut my eyes and threw my head back against the wall as the sensations swamped me. Pleasure upon pleasure upon pleasure rippled in never-ending and growing waves throughout my entire body.

  I cried out. But the words came out as no more than a choked and garbled sob as I said “yes” and “more” over and over again, until I wasn’t sure I knew any other words in the English language. I wasn’t even sure I knew my own name or where I was or why I was here. My only answer would have been “to fuck this man,” whoever he was.

  I was just starting to come down from my cloud when the realization hit me. He hadn’t gotten off.

  “Um . . . do you still need to get off?”

  His laugh wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and my body went lax against him. “I got off, baby. Yours was just a hell of a lot better than mine, and you didn’t even notice.”

  My cheeks were on fire. “Oh . . . I’m sorry.”

  He continued to laugh and I found myself laughing right along with him. “Don’t be. That was some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had. And the way you come . . . the way you taste . . . holy fuck, woman.”

  Now I was certain my cheeks were aflame. I resisted the urge to touch them and make sure no embers flickered across my freckles.

  Swallowing, I motioned for him to let me down. “Well . . . uh, thank you.”

  He pulled the condom off, tied it and then shoved it into his pants pocket. “Thank you, Miss . . . ”

  I shook my head. “No names, please.”

  Jesus Christ, what had I done? Now that the endorphins were starting to wear off, things were not looking nearly as fun or hot. I’d just had sex, albeit world-rocking, coma-inducing sex, but it’d been with a complete stranger. And I needed to keep it that way. I was coming off a breakup; I had no room for relationships or romance in my life. This was a one-time thing. I wasn’t going to spend the next ten days screwing random guys. No, I had a job to do. What on earth had I been thinking?

  “I’m going to find out your name eventually, you know.”

  I shrugged and smoothed down my skirt. “I know. But can you just pretend you don’t know it? Can we just behave, for the next ten days, as if this never happened? Ships passing in the night. That kind of thing.” Regret settled like a lead balloon in my stomach, and I watched as his face, for just a fraction of a second, fell in disappointment.

  “We can pretend or do whatever you like. You are the guest, and we aim to please and see to your every whim.” He plastered on a giant panty-dropping grin and finished doing up his belt. “Now, I’ll let you go first, then I’ll wait a minute and leave after you when the coast is clear. I highly doubt you will ever see me again anyway. I’m incredibly busy over the next several days seeing to a VIP guest.”

  I gave him a small smile, followed by a nod. “All right, then, well . . . uh . . . thanks again.” I grabbed my suitcase handle and opened the door, poking my head out and scanning the hallway to make sure no one was around. Once I’d determined the coast was clear, I glanced back over my shoulder at him one last time. He winked. Who the hell winks these days? Nobody winks anymore. But he winked, followed by another big, sexy smile. I couldn’t stop myself and smiled back. Then, with a pit the size of a grapefruit rattling around in my stomach, I pushed the door open and headed up to reception.

  “Parker Ryan,” I said, trying to feign nonchalance as best I could, as though not ten minutes ago I hadn’t been forced up against a wall and impaled by a sexy demigod in expensive shoes and a tight shirt.

  The front desk woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh . . . Miss? Miss Ryan. We’ve been expecting you. Yes, of course, welcome to The Windward Hibiscus Hotel. We’re so happy you’ve decided to come and spend your time at our resort. If there is anything, anything at all that you need, please do not hesitate to call and let us know. We have a twenty-four-hour concierge service, and even though we’re on an island, there’s not much we can’t accommodate.”

  I glanced at her name tag it said “Janessa.” Smiling, and hoping my cheeks were not as red as they felt and I didn’t have the words “I JUST HAD SEX WITH A STAFF MEMBER” stamped on my forehead, I said, “Thank you.” A man dressed in the customary beige pants and navy polo shirt with the hotel logo and name emblazoned in the top right corner, came over and offered me a customary smoothie in a glass. I thanked him and sipped it greedily. Sex with a stranger was parching. Mmm coconut and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “It’s guava, Miss,” Janessa said, taking in my creased brow as I continued to sip through my straw.

  “Is that what it is?” I hummed. “It’s delicious.” I finished off the delightful glass of liquid heaven and set the empty vessel down on the front desk. “Now I know I’m supposed to go and meet with Mr. McAllister, but I was hoping to freshen up first. If I could be shown to my room, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Her French-tipped nails tippy-tappe
d on the keyboard, and her round face with rosy cheeks stretched into a big smile. “We actually have you in our presidential villa for the duration of your stay. Mr. McAllister wants you to spend your time here in the lap of luxury. You have an unencumbered view of the ocean as well as fresh fruit trees right outside your door next to your own private veranda. The veranda has full privacy as well, if you’re one of those who chooses to tan topless.”

  I smiled ruefully. “I’m not, but good to know. Thank you.”

  She nodded as she reached for a key card from a big stack, swiping it through a reader to load it with my room number. “All right then, Miss Ryan, if you’ll just follow me, I will take you to your villa so you can freshen up.” She sashayed out from behind the desk and went to reach for my bag. I let her, and then the two of us took off back down the same hallway I’d just come down. Past the same door I’d just ducked out of, the door to the room where not fifteen minutes ago I’d had the most intense, incredible and unforgettable sex of my life, all with a man whose name I refused to learn.

  Chapter Two

  Not that I dress to impress, because in my line of work, people are trying to impress me, but for some reason I wasn’t happy with my current outfit and desperately wanted to change. When I’d selected my clothes before my flight, the white, flowy skirt and wide-strapped blue halter top seemed acceptable. With four-inch cork wedge sandals and some chunky jewelry, I was beachy casual but also professional.

  I was in French Polynesia, on the island of Moorea in Tahiti, the definition of tropical; a pantsuit or pencil skirt and nylons were out of the question, especially in this heat. But this was also the nicest hotel I’d ever stayed in, and I’ve stayed in some real posh places. Everything was top of the line, spotless and impressive. I didn’t need to count the threads to know that the sheets were going to feel like silk against my skin, or to read the price of the booze in the minibar to know that there wasn’t going to be a thing in there under fifty dollars, or more likely a hundred. This place was paradise for plutocrats, and for the next week and a half, I got to live like a magnate as well.