He thought he had himself under control. But all bets were off when they reached the pool and Hattie ditched the cover-up. She wore a different suit this time, and he was damned glad Leo hadn’t been around to see this one.
It was a neon-blue bikini. Luc was stunned. She was a sexual goddess, even more lovely than she had been in college. The bikini bottom fastened at the hips with a large gold circlet on either side. The two tiny triangles of fabric that made up the top barely met decency standards.
Luc looked around suspiciously to see if anyone else was enjoying the show, but their privacy was absolute. Nothing but flowers and water and a mermaid just for his entertainment. If there were other guests at the small inn, they were not around at the moment.
Luc made a show of selecting a chaise lounge and flipping out his towel. “I’m going to nap.”
Hattie gazed at him over her shoulder, her eyes hidden behind tortoiseshell sunglasses. “Will you do me first?”
His body went rigid in shock until he saw the bottle of sunscreen she held out. “Sure.”
When she was situated, he perched on his hip beside her and unscrewed the lid. Immediately, the scent of coconut assailed his nostrils. Hattie pillowed her head on her arms, a small smile tilting her lips.
Luc groaned inwardly. Giving her a taste of romance before the main event might drive him mad.
When his hands touched her back, she flinched. “It’s cold.”
He ran his fingers across her shoulder blades. “It won’t be. Relax.”
Too bad he couldn’t take his own advice. Every one of his muscles was tight enough to snap. He exhaled slowly and concentrated on Hattie. His fingertips still remembered the hills and valleys of her body. His thumbs pressed on either side of her spine.
Hattie moaned.
Dear Lord.
When he hesitated, she lifted a hand and waved it lazily, her eyes closed. “Don’t stop.”
He smoothed one final spot of lotion into her skin and capped the bottle. “All done.”
Hattie didn’t answer. She was so still he suspected she had drifted off. Which irked him, because sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He stood up and went to the deep end of the pool. After one last glance at Hattie, he dove in and started a series of punishing laps. Harder and faster, pushing his body to exhaustion.
He swam until his legs began to feel like spaghetti. And then he swam some more. When spots of light began to dance behind his eyelids, he dragged himself out of the pool and collapsed onto his lounger facedown. Hattie lay where he had left her, her almost naked body lax and limp, her skin glistening with a dewy sheen of lotion and perspiration.
Luc closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He had a painful erection. His body was clenched with desire, despite the brutal workout. He was a man, not a eunuch. He might not be in love with Hattie like he’d been as a stupid kid of twenty, but he had normal male needs. If she didn’t come to him soon, he’d never be able to keep up the pretense that he was in control of the situation.
It was a shock to feel hands on his back. He’d been so caught up in his own turmoil, he never heard Hattie move. She mimicked his earlier position and was now preparing to rub sunscreen into his burning skin. Thankfully, his Italian heritage made him able to endure the sun without painful consequences, but he knew he needed the protection.
The question was—who or what would protect him from Hattie?
Her hands were small, but strong. Despite the ostensible point of the exercise, this was foreplay. And Luc was strung so tightly, he wasn’t sure he could bear it.
Five minutes later, his body aching with the need to roll over and pull Hattie down into his arms, she finished. He felt her touch on his hair, her fingers ruffling the wet strands.
She leaned in closer, her breast brushing his side. “I’m getting in the water. Why don’t you join me?”
It was a dare. He recognized it as such and knew that this game of cat and mouse had only one possible conclusion. But it was up to him to write the script and make sure Hattie knew who was in control.
He swung to a sitting position. Now they were so close, he could have leaned forward a scant two inches and kissed her. But he didn’t. Not yet.
He smiled grimly, cursing his body’s weakness. “After you.”
She didn’t try to dive in, but instead used the ladder to lower herself into the pool. The water was only chest high where she stood. He executed a show-off dive from the opposite direction and came up beside her, shoving the hair from his face. Her eyes were wide.
He touched her shoulder. “Want a ride in the deep end?”
Hattie nodded, not speaking.
He took her hand. “Get on my back.”
When she complied, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms encircling his shoulders, he shuddered. “Hang on.”
He walked forward, feeling the bottom of the pool fall away beneath his feet. When he could barely touch bottom, he tugged her off his back and around until she faced him. The slightly surprised look in her eyes when she realized she was out of her depth made him smile inwardly.
Her hands clenched his shoulders, her fingernails leaving marks in his skin. Their legs drifted together and apart. He knew she felt the evidence of what she did to him.
Hattie nibbled her bottom lip. “The water feels great.”
She was nervous. He liked that. “A lot of things feel great,” he said, deliberately taunting her.
“You didn’t let me give you my answer earlier,” she said, her eyes alight with mischief.
He kissed her softly, a bare brush of mouth to mouth. She tasted like warm summer fruit. “It will keep,” he muttered. “No need to rush.”
Need swam between them. His. Hers. It might have been a decade, but some pleasures the body never forgets.
Her eyes drifted shut.
“No. Look at me.” He cupped one breast.
Hattie’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze unfocused, her cheeks flushed despite the cool water. Her soft cry went straight to his gut.
He kicked his legs rhythmically, keeping them afloat. Now he took the other breast. Two handfuls…warm, seductive, feminine bounty. He massaged gently, moving the barely-there bikini top aside to find naked flesh.
The pleasure flooding him from touching her so intimately blurred his vision. His hands settled at her waist as he took her mouth in a ravaging kiss. They were in danger of losing all rational thought. And he was sinking fast.
As fact matched thought, they slipped beneath the surface of the water. He kissed her again, and this time, he slid his hand into the bottom of her bikini and cupped her, pressing a finger into her tight passage and probing…stroking.
It lasted no more than a few seconds. He dragged them both back up for air. Hattie wrapped her legs around his waist, her ragged breathing matching his. She had a death grip on his shoulders, her breasts mashed to his chest.
She initiated the kiss this time, her small teeth nipping his bottom lip, her tongue sliding between his teeth, dazing him with an ache so intense, his head hurt. Hunger raged like a wild animal, one that hadn’t been fed in a decade.
She whimpered when he cupped her bottom, pulling her closer. “Luc…Luc.”
Hearing his name on her lips almost unmanned him. “What, Hattie?”
“Please,” she groaned. “My answer is yes. Please, please, please make love to me.”
Exultation filled his chest. That was what he needed to hear. “Ask me again,” he demanded.
Her gaze filled with frustration. “No games. Take me. Now.”
Twelve
Hattie stumbled as Luc dragged her toward the house, their few belongings left behind in his haste. His grip on her wrist allowed no protest. But then why would she…protest, that is?
She wanted Luc—the sooner the better.
If she had expected awkwardness in the bedroom, she was wrong. Luc was smooth, determined. He stripped off his trunks, grinning tightly when she looked her fill.
His erection was magnificent. Thick, long and ready for her…only her. His broad chest and strong arms rippled with muscles. He cupped her face in his hands. “Take it off.”
His adamant tone brooked no refusal.
She trembled inside and out as she unfastened the knot at the back of her neck and reached behind to undo the clasp. For seconds, the bikini top clung damply to her breasts as she clutched it in sudden, belated hesitation.
The corner of Luc’s beautiful mouth quirked in a half smile. “Don’t go all shy on me now, Hattie.”
She gulped inwardly and let the scraps of fabric fall. Luc inhaled sharply. The look in his eyes made her weak. In college, he had been her first love, her first lover. Now he was a mature man in his sexual prime. She felt the heat of his desire, not as quiet warmth, but as a flashpoint poised to explode.
There was the problem of what to do with her hands. She wanted to cover her breasts instinctively. But she knew Luc would have none of that. So her arms hung at her sides as she shifted from one foot to the other.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not finished.”
She might have taken umbrage at his arrogant tone had she not been as eager as he was for the next act. Removing her last barrier of modesty proved harder than she expected.
Luc lost patience. He gripped her hips. “Too slow,” he growled. He kissed her wildly, his mouth everywhere…her lips, her throat, and finally, her bare breasts. The sensation was an electric shock. Her entire body melted into him, closer and closer still.
His hard shaft bruised her hipbone. The soft, wiry hair on his chest tickled her sensitive skin. Breath by gasping breath they relearned the taste of each other—the touch, the sound, the smell. It was a smorgasbord of sensual delight. A cornucopia of excess.
He tangled his fingers in the rings at her hips and jerked hard, ripping the thin fabric from the metal. The remnants that he tossed aside represented Hattie’s last resistance, if indeed she had any.
She was drunk on memories laced with present passion.
A nanosecond later he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The intimate position made her limp with longing. He backed her up to the nearest wall and buried his face in her neck. Tremors shook his large frame. His chest heaved.
Slowly, as if giving her time to protest, he aligned their bodies and entered her with one forceful upward thrust. He was big, but she was ready for him. When he was buried inside her, he went still.
“Hattie?” His voice was hoarse.
“Hmmm?” She bit his earlobe and heard him curse.
“You okay?”
The four-letter word didn’t come close to describing what she was. “Don’t stop.”
“Whatever the lady wants.”
The last words were barely audible as he directed all his energy toward driving them both insane. Her bare butt slapped against the door as Luc pounded into her over and over.
A searing heat built inside her, coalesced at the spot where their bodies were joined. Higher. Stronger. The world ceased to exist. Her arms tightened around his neck as she felt the storm begin to break. “Luc…” Stars cartwheeled inside her head and tumbled downward to reignite when Luc’s own release sent him rigid and straining against her.
When it was over at last, Luc staggered into their bedroom, still carrying her, and dropped her onto the mattress. He came down beside her and rested his head on her chest.
Her heart stopped. A perfect cocoon of intimacy enveloped them.
She might have slept for a few minutes—she wasn’t sure. Luc was out, his body a heavy weight half on top of her. She wanted so badly to stroke his hair, but she resisted. A black hole of self-destruction yawned at her feet. She was far too close to the edge.
Awkwardly, she slid from beneath him and tiptoed to the bathroom. After quickly freshening up, she put on one of the soft luxurious robes that hung on the back of the door. Belting it tightly, she peeked out into the bedroom.
Luc’s speculative gaze met hers. “You won’t need the robe.”
Five simple words. That’s all he needed to make the moisture bloom between her legs. She grasped the door frame to steady herself. “I won’t?” All the starch had left her legs. She was melting, body and soul.
He crooked a finger. “Come back to bed.”
Removing the robe was even more difficult than shedding her swimsuit. In the heat of the moment, her inhibitions had gone on vacation. But now they were back.
As she padded into the room, shivering, she noticed for the first time that the AC had been kicked up a notch. Luc held a string of condom packets in his hand. “We skipped a step. I’m sorry, Hattie. That was my fault.”
She shrugged with what she hoped was blasé sophistication. “It’s the wrong part of the month. I’m not worried.”
His grin was tight. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”
The robe fell at her feet. Luc’s amusement faded visibly to be replaced by sheer male determination. When she shivered now, it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with the man stretched out on his back like a sleek, not-quite-satisfied predator.
Nothing this older, more experienced Luc did was predictable. Instead of covering her with his aroused body, he pulled her on top. It was a position she had never really liked, because it made her feel too vulnerable. But when she tried to protest, Luc took care of that by lightly touching the small bud of nerves at her center.
She braced her hands on her thighs and tried not to flinch as he explored her most private recesses. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, she moaned and climaxed, the second event no less powerful than the first.
He held her close and stroked her hair, though she could feel the strength of his unappeased desire. Tears clogged her throat. “Luc, I…” love you. No, she didn’t. It was just the sex talking. Shades of auld lang syne. An overabundance of postcoital hormones.
He kissed her cheek. “You what?”
“I wonder if we made a mistake.” She felt him go still.
“Regrets already?”
Something in his tone made her cringe. She shouldn’t have introduced reality into their bed. Not now. But she was compelled to answer. “This makes things complicated. When we go our separate ways.”
His hands moved from her hair, her shoulders. He shifted her until they lay side by side. Already she missed his warmth.
His tone was perfectly calm when he answered. “You’re making too much of nothing. There’s no harm in enjoying each other. Divorces are simple nowadays. We’ll deal with any complications when we have to. It’s nothing to worry about.”
She winced inwardly, her lovely moment shattered by her own bad timing and Luc’s carelessly callous comment. No more pretending. This wasn’t a honeymoon. This was sex for the sake of scratching an itch. No use dressing it up with romantic frills.
No reason for tears to sting her eyes and a painful lump to clog her throat.
She swallowed, her mouth dry. “I want to take a shower.”
Luc pounced verbally. “No, Hattie. I don’t think so.”
He hardly noticed that she didn’t answer. He’d been kicked in the gut and was left reeling. The sweat was barely dry on their bodies and she was already talking about leaving him. Damn it to hell. He would be the one to end this relationship…not Hattie.
He was hard as a pike, his erection painfully stiff. With jerky motions, he ripped open a packet and rolled on a rubber. A split second later he groaned aloud as he penetrated Hattie’s tight, wet warmth. She lay passive beneath him, and it pissed him off.
He took her chin in his hand. “Look at me, Mrs. Cavallo.” She obeyed. He had to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then. “What we do in the privacy of our bed is our own business. We’re good together. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. Let yourself go, Hattie.”
Big brown eyes looked up at him with a mixture of emotions he couldn’t decipher even if he wasn’t being driven by
his baser needs. She whispered the single word. “Okay.”
It was enough. He felt her hands touch his hips, recognized the moment when she arched her back and matched her rhythm to his. A red haze clouded his vision. His hips pistoned in agonized yearning for release. It was good…so good.
Hattie gave a small shocked cry as he felt her inner muscles squeeze him. Her release triggered his, and he bore down, losing himself in her welcome embrace and finding momentary oblivion.
Sometime later, sanity returned. He could hear his own jerky breathing in the silence of the room. Hattie was still and quiet again. Had he hurt her? He moved aside with a muttered apology, relieving her of his considerable weight.
Sweet mother of God. He hadn’t had sex that good in he didn’t know when. Oh, yes, you do. It was back in college when Hattie was warm and willing and you were both blissfully happy.
He shook off the memories. No need for those when he had the real thing in his arms. What was she thinking? He was too tired to pry it out of her. He’d barely slept the night before.
His eyes closed involuntarily.
Aeons later it seemed, he felt her try to escape. His fingers closed around her wrist. “Stay.”
“I need a shower.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, yawning, his head muzzy. “I’ll join you.”
The look on her face made him laugh as he got to his feet. “Don’t be so modest. It’s the green thing to do.”
After turning the water to a comfortable temperature, he dragged a clearly reluctant Hattie into the luxurious shower enclosure. His lovely new wife huddled in a tiled corner, her arms wrapped around her waist.
Everything about her screamed innocent seduction…from her long slender legs to her hourglass waist, to her plump, shapely breasts. If he could paint, he’d commit her to canvas exactly like this.
He picked up a bar of soap shaped like a shell. “Turn around.”
Hattie was drowning in her own need. In her wildest imagination she had never invented a scenario like this. “Why?” she muttered.
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