by Jaci Burton
Not just yet anyway. It was all too much to take in, and she and Rick were having fun together. That was all she could handle at the moment.
Just being with him--alone with him--was a whirlwind enough. She had been besieged with sensation. Being with him one on one without interruption, not having Kayla as the main topic between them, forcing them to be just a twosome again. That hadn't been the case since they were very young. This was entirely new territory for her--for both of them. It was like starting all over again, but with someone she was very familiar with.
Yet being with Rick was brand new, too. Everything about him was different now. She supposed she was completely different, too. So many years had passed, they had both learned so much, changed completely, had more life experience to bring to the table. They really were two different people now than when they'd been together as kids.
A brand-new relationship with the same old couple. A couple who had been together, yet apart, for over twenty years. Now if that wasn't confusing as hell, what was?
They'd spent the past few days simply playing together. They'd snorkeled, swum, taken boat rides, shopped, and toured Saint Thomas. She'd probably taken two hundred pictures of all the architecture. Rick had been a wonderful companion, patient and indulging in everything she'd wanted to do. She couldn't think of anyone else she'd rather be with. And he really seemed to enjoy every activity, seemed to love exploring the buildings and the towns, taking all the tours and soaking up the local atmosphere. They were in sync--well, except for the shopping, but what man enjoyed that anyway? She knew she wasn't merely dragging him along, that he was having as much fun as she was. And every moment spent with him made her realize how much she'd missed...being with him.
That was the problem, had always been the problem. She never wanted to be with anyone else. But was that because of Rick, or because Rick was safe, a known factor in her life?
"Ugh," she said, staring into the mirror. "Stop thinking so much." She had to get ready for their date tonight and she was running out of time. Rick was in the other bathroom, and here she was musing on...what the hell was she musing on anyway? Everything and nothing, as usual. Overthinking everything, of course, just like she always did. She made herself crazy.
She dried her hair, put makeup on, then pulled the sides of her hair back and affixed a jeweled clip at the crown of her head. Fancy, but not overdone. She liked it. Now she had to get dressed. Rick had told her they were going to dinner, then to a club to go dancing and to do some gambling. She decided to dress up, and she had just the outfit in mind, something Connie had insisted she buy. It was a bit over the top for her tastes, but Connie had sworn Lisa looked knock-'em-dead sexy in it, so she figured that would be the outfit to wear.
She went to the closet and pulled out the dress. A royal blue satin, it was one piece of skin-tight, lace-up, made-for-sin heaven. The bodice was strapless, shirred under the bust in front and boned in corset fashion that ended just at her hips, with crisscross laces in the back. Fun. The rest of the dress flowed down into a pencil skirt that hugged every one of her curves, with slits on both sides of her thighs, the material ending just at the knee. She had silver strappy stiletto heels to complete the look. When she'd tried it on at the store, she couldn't believe how the corset molded to her curves, drew her less-than-ample breasts upward, making her look like she had serious cleavage, and the rest of the dress was dynamite. Plus the color was perfect for her. She had to admit, Connie was right. It was as if the dress had been made just for her. She loved it.
She didn't want Rick to see her in it until she was fully dressed, but she needed help with the laces, so she dialed housekeeping and one of the ladies was up there in a flash to help her. Fortunately, Rick was busy in the other room and didn't even notice when she let the woman in. The woman smiled and was more than happy to lace up the back of the corset. Lisa tipped her when she was done, then sucked in a breath as she surveyed the finished product in the mirror.
Not bad. Not bad at all. With the corset laced tight, it molded close to her body, accentuating every curve. She slipped on her shoes, added silver earrings and a bracelet, and she was ready. She opened the door and found Rick standing in the living room, dressed in a black suit with a white no-collar shirt. He was leaning against the arched doorway to the balcony, a vision of dark-haired perfection as he sipped a brandy. He was so handsome he could have been on the cover of a men's fashion magazine. He took her breath away. Maybe they could just stay in tonight and make love. Her nipples tightened as she stepped into the living room.
He must have heard her heels clicking on the marble flooring, because his head turned in her direction, his eyes widened.
"Holy shit, Lisa."
She warmed under his perusal as he pushed off the wall and came toward her, walked around her, and whistled.
"Goddamn, did someone sew you into that dress?"
She giggled. "Nearly."
He came around to face her, took her hand, and kissed her fingers. Their eyes locked. "You look beautiful."
She could feel the thumping of her own heart. "Thank you. You look pretty smokin' hot, too."
With a wide grin, he took her hand and slid it in the crook of his arm. "Then let's go show off."
They took a taxi across the island to another resort, this one containing a club situated on an enormous rock hill overlooking the bay and alight with purple spotlights swaying back and forth. The atmosphere in front of the club was charged and exciting, people lining up to get inside. Beautifully dressed people, too. Rick told her this was a pretty exclusive nightclub and there was a dress code, so it wasn't like you could walk up from the beach in your cover-up and flip-flops and get inside. And you had to have your name on the list, which wasn't an easy thing to do.
Their name was on the list, thanks to a hefty tip to their hotel's concierge, so they went over to the "reservations" side of the line and walked right in.
Lisa realized two things immediately. There was a quiet part of the club, and an earsplitting part. Even though there was a closed door cutting off the bar and dance club, you could still feel the pounding rhythm coming from beyond the doors, could see the lights bouncing around, and hear the music. As they moved in the opposite direction toward the restaurant and through the doors into soothing music, Lisa marveled at the amount of money the resort must have spent on sound-proofing the walls, because it was some feat to isolate that driving rhythm from the rest of the patrons.
The restaurant was all dark paneling, cherry woods, and candlelight. How romantic. They were seated at a table in the corner. Very private and intimate. A waiter came by with menus and a wine list. She deferred to Rick, who ordered a bottle of sauvignon blanc. The waiter brought the bottle, poured their glasses, took their food orders, and left them alone.
"Did you enjoy your nap today?" he asked.
"I passed out for two hours. I was exhausted after you dragged me around town half the day."
"You like shopping."
She sipped the wine, pleased with the crisp, dry flavor. "I do. You hate it."
He shrugged and took a swallow of wine, rolling the liquid around in the glass. "I like being with you. I suffered through it just fine. The shops were interesting. I wasn't bored."
He hadn't seemed to be, but she wondered. "We can do things you like, too, Rick."
"We are doing things I like. We've snorkeled, parasailed, Jet Skied, taken a deep-sea fishing excursion, and gone to the marine mammal exhibition. We've also shopped, taken a wine tour, and hung out on the beach. We've eaten nonstop and drunk our way through this island. I've hardly been bored, Lisa."
"Okay. You have a point. I haven't been bored either." Sometimes she forgot that, maybe with the exception of shopping, they enjoyed many of the same things. That's probably why neither of them had ever moved from Florida. The beach, water, and marine life were all things they both loved. And Kayla, of course. There was always that tie that bound them together and always would. But that wasn't
enough to sustain a relationship. A child was never enough to hold a couple. It hadn't been enough when they were younger and it wouldn't be now. There had to be more, something besides Kayla, besides the years between them.
"Shadows."
She met his gaze. "What?"
"The candlelight casts shadows across your face. But there are already shadows in your eyes."
"Wow," she said, reaching for a wry grin as well as her glass of wine. "That's pretty deep. You dabbling in psychology on the side now, Rick?"
He laughed. "Sorry. I just know when you're doing that whole deep thinking thing."
Her gaze drifted down, then back up again. "Yeah, you do, don't you? Sorry. I'll stop."
He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. "You don't have to stop thinking. I just wonder if your thinking doesn't tend to run toward the all-the-reasons-you-shouldn't-do-something area."
"You do know me well. Yes, it does tend to do that."
He slid his hand from hers, leaned back in his chair, and grabbed his glass. "Why can't you just accept what is and go with it?"
She shrugged. "I'm a chronic overthinker. You said you know me. You must know my affliction."
He shook his head. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'll have to come up with ways to banish thoughts from your head."
"Trying to keep me witless, huh?"
She caught his smile as he tipped the glass for a drink.
Rick was right, though. Why overthink everything and plan for the future when she was having a wonderful time right now? What was wrong with right now? They had made no plans for what happened after this vacation was over. Maybe nothing would happen, and they would go back to their lives the way they had been.
Just have fun. Enjoy. Forget about everything else.
She would. She'd try.
Dinner was a sumptuous feast of lobster, dripping cholesterol-laden butter, and a plate full of delicious steamed vegetables. Lisa ate way more than she should have considering her already too tight dress, but she couldn't resist. It was simply too decadent a meal. By the time dinner was finished, they'd polished off their bottle of wine. She was stuffed and utterly relaxed.
"Time to dance off those calories," Rick said, pulling her chair out.
Overly full, she felt like she was waddling from the restaurant to the dance club, which she could have found blindfolded. One only had to follow the sound of the thumping bass that led to red velvet ropes attached to brass stands, directing them to wide, rich wood double doors and two scary-looking bouncers. Rick gave one of the guys his name, and they were allowed entrance.
Wow, some security setup. What was inside that was so special? The doors were held open and they walked in. Lisa was immediately assailed by flashing bright lights, brain-melting music, and wall-to-wall bodies. Thankfully, Rick had hold of her hand, because they hadn't walked in ten feet before the crowd closed in on them from all sides. Good thing she wasn't claustrophobic. The ceiling was lit with a rainbow of colors cascading down from track lighting that seemed to follow her like a spotlight wherever they walked. She'd feel like she was on display if the lighting didn't appear to follow everyone else, too, in a muted, dark purple sort of way. It was funky, and kind of fun, almost like a laser tracking system. Maybe it focused on body heat or something, because everyone was lit up like that. How cool.
There was a long bar against every wall, scattered high tables and tall chairs set in front of each bar, and the rest of the club was nothing but dance floor, the biggest floor she'd ever seen. Good thing, too, because that seemed to be what everyone was doing--gyrating to the music. There had to be at least two hundred people out there on the football field-sized wood floor. The really awesome thing about it was the dance area was so huge, there was plenty of room for people to move around instead of feeling as if you were packed like sardines in a can.
"Drink first or dance?" Rick asked, leaning close to her ear so he wouldn't have to shout.
"Definitely dance. I need to work off dinner."
He pulled her onto the dance floor and they wound their way out into the crowd. The energy there was infectious and Lisa soon found herself immersed in the music, a sexy R&B song that had her swaying her hips back and forth and raising her arms over her head, turning around and laughing so much her sides ached. How long had it been since she'd been out dancing? Too long, just like every other fun thing associated with dating. Because she hardly ever dated.
Rick was a phenomenal dancer, had a killer rhythm, and knew how to move his body in a way she found incredibly sexy, especially when the music slowed to something hot and sensual and he pulled her into his arms. Their bodies touched in all the intimate places and Lisa lost herself in the music, in Rick, in the way she felt in his embrace. She focused her attention on his hips rocking back and forth with hers, her nipples sliding against his chest, the way his hand pressed against the small of her back, bringing her even closer. She felt his cock against her hip, felt it harden as his eyes turned darker. The room grew suddenly smaller, her breaths shorter, and everyone else fell away but the two of them locked in this dance with no words. And yet the dance expressed everything she wanted to say.
She suddenly wished they were alone--like right now--because there was a magical spell being woven over her. Rick moved against her, still in control of the dance, but one hand moved up to press against the side of her neck, his fingers tickling the nape as he drew her forward to kiss her. The kiss was light, a soft brushing of his lips against hers. He teased her with the tip of his tongue, no overly dramatic public display of affection, but enough to curl her toes and make her wet. Make her want. She breathed against his lips, letting out a soft sigh.
She knew he had this entire exciting night planned of dancing at the club, then gambling at the casino, but it wasn't what she wanted anymore. She just wanted to be alone with him.
"I want you, Lisa," he whispered, releasing her mouth and giving her such an intense look it left her shaken.
Maybe he had changed his mind about what he wanted to do tonight, too.
She nodded, rested her chin on his shoulder so he could hear her. "This is fun, but would you be terribly disappointed if we left?"
He leaned back, smiled, and shook his head. "No. Let's go."
He took her hand and led her out the door. Instead of hailing a taxi to take them back to their hotel, he looked down at her feet. "Take off your shoes."
She didn't even ask why, just slipped her heels off and put them in his outstretched hand. He led her down the stone stairs and onto the walkway leading to the beach.
The night was balmy with just the slightest breeze. It was difficult to see anything at all since there was barely a sliver of moon visible in the sky, but that made her other senses come alive. She smelled the salt spray from the ocean, heard the birds trilling calls as they flew overhead. All the night creatures were out, the human ones content to party at the resort above them. She and Rick were completely alone out there on the beach.
They walked hand in hand just along the water's edge, neither of them saying a word. Once they were out of sight of the bright lights of the resort, he pulled her away from the water, trudging over the sand and underneath a rocky overhang, flipping her around so her back brushed the craggy stone.
His mouth came down over hers in a demanding, passionate kiss that told her without a doubt what he wanted from her. There might have been a part of her that would have objected to sex out here in public, but she was too far gone, too much in need of this man she still wanted so desperately. He lifted one of her legs and draped it over his hip, sliding his fingers under the silky fabric to caress the bare skin of her leg. His touch, the clarity in her mind that he wanted her this much, sent hot shivers across her skin, making her nipples tingle, her clit quiver, because she wanted him with an equal desperation.
He moved his free hand under her thigh and toward her sex, cupping her, caressing her until she writhed under his touch. He tore the fabric aside and buried hi
s fingers inside her, pumping her with soft, measured strokes. She moaned against his mouth and he kissed her harder, relentless in his pursuit and coaxing an orgasm from her that she had no hope to hold back. She bucked against his hand, reaching down to grasp his wrist and hold him there while she shuddered through the waves of pleasure that swamped her. He kept his mouth planted on hers, his tongue like velvet fire, inducing moans and whimpers and reducing her to a wet, needy mess.
She finally tore her mouth from his and reached for his face, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at her so she could choke out one breathless word in between panting breaths. "More."
She barely held on while he reached into his pocket for a condom, unzipped his pants, and positioned himself between her legs. He swept one arm around her back and lifted her. With a loud groan she settled over him, her toes sliding into the sand as she impaled her pussy onto his cock. Ripples of sensation crashed over her, and she let herself drown in them.
Delicious. Decadent. Hot. Rick pushed her against the rocks as he began to pump between her legs, his movements grinding his shaft against her already raggedly sensitive clit. She had no idea if there were other people walking by. They were enshrouded in pitch darkness, yet she knew she wasn't being quiet. Not when Rick continued to pound her with relentless, steady thrusts, and her pussy gripped him with tight convulsions. Not when he bent his head low and swept her mouth again with a kiss meant to devastate, to turn her mind to mush.
Then she didn't care if they had an audience of hundreds, because she only wanted these amazing sensations to continue, wanted to climb this ladder of torturous pleasure rung by rung with the only man who could do this to her, who could make her feel on fire from her toes to her hair. Only Rick could take her from one climax to the next without even catching her breath, could make her want to die and in the next moment cling to him in ragged desperation and beg him to do it to her again until finally, he groaned, grinding against her with a wild orgasm of his own. She held tight, dragging her nails over his sweat-soaked back as he shuddered against her, pulling his mouth from hers to kiss her jaw, her neck.