Natural Passion (Au Naturel Trilogy Book 1)

by Anna Durand

  My cheeks flamed, not only from my climax. What had I done?

  I tiptoed back to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. When I flopped backward onto the bed, the springs squeaked. What on earth had I been thinking? Spying on Val while he masturbated was bad enough, but I'd gotten myself off while watching him. Twice.

  Damn if those hadn't been the best orgasms of my life.

  I changed into my nightie and crawled under the covers. For a long time, I lay awake reliving those moments in the hallway and remembering the look on his face when he'd come. We couldn't work as a couple, I knew that much. Val and I had nothing in common. He was a celebrity with a checkered past, the kind of man who relished the spotlight and loved the big city. I liked my quiet life in rural Oregon, running my family-friendly naturist resort. Of course, he'd made it clear he didn't want a relationship with me and that he wouldn't start a brawl if another man expressed interest in me. He wanted sex, pure and simple.

  Even that seemed like a bad idea. He was so…naughty. And I had a feeling if I got it on with him, one taste would never satisfy me.

  No sex with Val. Decision made. He never needed to know I'd spied on him.

  If I could just get my body to go along with that resolution…

  Chapter Eight

  Val

  Eve was cooking breakfast when I walked into the kitchen the next morning. Instead of those very-short shorts and that tank top, the outfit I'd loved yesterday, she wore tight pink jeans and a loose-fitting white blouse. Her curves looked no less enticing in this outfit. She couldn't be frumpy even if she'd tried, not with that body.

  "Good morning," I said, taking a seat on a stool at the island. Eve had already laid out place settings on the island, one on either side.

  Across the island from me, she paused in frying up something in a skillet and glanced my way. "Good morning. Breakfast is almost ready."

  "What about your guests? Don't they eat breakfast?"

  "Their food is hot and waiting for them in the dining hall of the guest house."

  I raised my brows. "It's seven o'clock. When did you get up?"

  "Five thirty." She turned back to her cooking, stirring whatever it was with a wooden spoon. "I hope you like scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes."

  "You didn't need to cook all of that for me. Especially not after making breakfast for sixteen other people."

  "Oh, it's no trouble. I made the same thing for the other guests, so all I had to do was save a few pancakes for us. The bacon was precooked and warmed up in the microwave, so that was no trouble. I made fresh eggs, though." She smiled at me over her shoulder. "I hope you're hungry."

  "Estou verde de fome. It smells delicious."

  "Thanks, but I have no idea what that first thing meant."

  "I said I'm starving." I winked. "In Portuguese."

  "Wish I knew another language, but I barely passed high school Spanish."

  "Maybe I'll teach you Portuguese—or Spanish, if you like. I'm fluent in both."

  "Wow. I'm impressed." She shut off the stovetop burner and carried the frying pan to the island, then portioned out the eggs onto our plates. "Eat up. Can't have a guest starving on my watch."

  I pointed at my plate. "You gave me more than you gave yourself."

  "You're a big, strong man who can do a one-handed headstand. I assumed you'd need more protein than I do."

  "That sounds rather sexist," I teased.

  "I'm committing sexism against myself? Not sure how that works. If you don't want the eggs, I'll dump them down the garbage disposal."

  "No, I'll eat them."

  She set the frying pan in the sink.

  I watched her reheat the pancakes and bacon in the microwave, though my attention frequently wandered to her ass. Her loose-fitting shirt seemed to make those perfect cheeks even more enticing.

  Once she'd portioned out the rest of our meal, she perched on her own stool and picked up her fork, spearing a chunk of eggs.

  "Did you sleep well last night?" I asked.

  She froze with the forkful of egg poised between her open lips. Her eyes rolled up to stare at me. "Huh?"

  "I asked if you slept well."

  "Oh. Yes, fine." She shoved the food into her mouth and chewed it. "How about you?"

  "Very well." I ate some of my food while keeping an eye on her, trying to gauge when would be the right time to bring up the subject of last night. After eating half of a pancake, I couldn't wait any longer. "Did you enjoy the show last night?"

  Eve dropped her fork. It clattered onto her plate, and the chunk of pancake impaled on the tines broke in half. "Excuse me?"

  "Last night. When you watched me. Did you enjoy it?"

  Her eyes flew wide, and her cheeks turned slightly pink. "I—well—"

  I picked up a slice of bacon and bit off a piece.

  She sat up straighter, staring down at her lap, and took a deep breath that she exhaled little by little. At last, she raised her face to me. "How did you know I was there?"

  "I saw you in the mirror."

  "Mirror?" She winced as realization hit her. "The one on the dresser. I didn't think about that."

  "That mirror was angled just right to let me see you." I bit off another piece of bacon and chewed it so I could take a moment to savor the pinkness of her cheeks and the way her breasts rose and fell. "You came, didn't you? I heard the little noises you tried to muffle by pressing your face to the wall."

  To her credit, she didn't look away or try to deny it. Despite the faint blush coloring her cheeks, she stayed calm and resolute.

  "Why deny it?" she said. "Yes, I came. Twice."

  I couldn't help smirking. "Eve Holt won't go nude in front of her guests, but she is a voyeur."

  "How is it voyeurism when you left your door open? I bet you did that on purpose, hoping I'd see you."

  "Do you?" I chuckled. "All right. Yes, I did. I wanted you to see what you're missing."

  She shook her head, her lips stretching into a closed-mouth smile. "I'd already seen that. I Googled you yesterday. Unfortunately, I couldn't watch your sex tape since I found only a still photo from it."

  "The leaked video was taken down by the site where the thief uploaded it. At least half the world had already seen it by then." I dipped my finger into the syrup on my plate and thrust it into my mouth, drawing my finger out slowly, loving the way Eve's breath caught when I licked it and sucked the tip. Maybe she guessed that I was imagining doing the same thing to her. "I have the original on my phone if you'd like to see it. Marina and I recorded it on my phone, and I didn't bother to delete it. I never imagined my assistant would leak the tape. After that, everybody had seen it anyway."

  "Did you watch your own video last night? Is that why you were jerking off?"

  "No, I was fantasizing about you." I reached across the island to rub my thumb over her lips. "You can kiss me again anytime you want, anywhere you want. And I don't mean you can do it in the kitchen or in the bathroom. I mean anywhere on my body."

  As her gaze traveled over me, the parts she could see above the island, the stiff peaks of her nipples jutted against her shirt. When her eyes met mine again, her pupils had enlarged.

  I swirled my fingertip in the syrup on my plate, keeping my gaze nailed to hers. "How hard did you come for me last night?"

  She touched the fingers of one hand to her throat, grazing them down to her collarbone. When she spoke, her voice had gone sultry. "Those were the best orgasms I've ever had."

  "It'll be better when I'm inside you."

  We studied each other for a moment, her lips parted and her cheeks rosy, while my cock stiffened. I had to have her soon or I'd go insane. Never in my life had I hungered for a woman the way I hungered for Eve Holt. Our kiss yesterday had only heightened my lust for her.

  She cleared her throat, wriggled on her seat, and set her hands on her lap. "No, Val, I will not be kissing you again. I won't sleep with you e
ither."

  "Don't want to sleep, Eve."

  "I'm not getting involved with you in any way." She shoved a piece of pancake into her mouth and devoured it, her throat muscles working as she swallowed. "I like my simple life out here in the woods. Nothing and no one is going to derail that." She stabbed her fork into her pancake. "You are trouble, Mr. Silva. You strip naked in public and save your sex tapes on your phone. I wouldn't be surprised if you leaked that tape yourself."

  I licked the syrup off my finger and leaned into the back of my stool. "My personal assistant leaked the sex tape. The second I found out, I fired him. I'm not ashamed of what the world saw, but I can't have an assistant who betrays me for money. As for stripping in public, those were publicity stunts. I knew my football career wouldn't last much longer, and I wanted to see what kind of offers I'd get if I did something outrageous to make myself more of a celebrity."

  "What offers did you get? Starring roles in porn movies?"

  "Some of those, yes, but I turned them down. The offers I liked the best were for modeling work, so I accepted a lot of those."

  She leaned back too, eying me with a renewed interest. "I saw a few of the spreads you did for magazines. You look good in print."

  I raised a brow. "But not in person?"

  "You know the answer to that."

  "Mm, yes." I couldn't help smiling. "I gave you the best orgasm of your life without laying a finger, or a tongue, on you. Imagine what I can do when I'm touching your body."

  "As intriguing as that sounds, the answer is still no. We are not getting involved."

  "I don't want to date you, linda. I want to have sex with you."

  She hopped off her stool. "And I told you no. You are the hottest mess I've ever seen, and I don't need the complications. A notorious athlete turned model who likes to strip in public and who starred in a sex tape. No thank you, Val."

  "Not interested in complications. Just sex, nothing else."

  "Uh-huh." She carried her plate to the sink. "I've heard that before. Quentin swore sex wouldn't change anything and we could go back to being just friends after. Instead, he's jealous of you even though I haven't slept with you yet. The last thing I need is you getting jealous of every man who speaks to me."

  "I'm not the jealous type."

  "Heard that before too." She turned around and braced her bottom against the counter. "No sex, Val."

  I got up and strode around the island to stand in front of her. Inches separated our bodies. I placed my palms on the sink counter at either side of her hips, bending my head to meet her eyes. "You say that this morning, but last night you came twice from watching me get off. You want me. I want you. There's no reason to make this more complicated."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, right. Guys always think they mean that, but they don't."

  "I do. Sex only, bebê."

  "Yeah, I can guess what that one means. You called me baby, didn't you?"

  "That's right." I brushed my lips over hers, and she sucked in a breath. The feel of her mouth on mine brought my cock to attention, but she didn't seem to mind the hard length rubbing against her belly. I nipped her lower lip, then brushed my tongue across it. "Let's do it right now, right here in the kitchen."

  "What if paparazzi show up and snap lurid pictures of us through the window? You are a notorious celebrity, after all."

  "My life won't touch yours. No one knows I'm here, I made sure of that." I slipped my hand under her shirt, finding the waistband of her jeans and hooking a finger inside it. "I told only my parents and my sisters where I would be, and they're in Brazil. No one will find me. I drove instead of flying partly to keep anyone from tracking me. Mostly, I wanted to escape from my life for a while."

  "What, did you release another sex tape?"

  "No." I skimmed my finger along the inside of her waistband until I found the button on her jeans. Unhooking it slowly, I licked at the seam of her lips. "Let's enjoy each other, Evie. That's all I want and all you want too."

  I tugged her zipper down and pushed my hand inside her jeans, inside her panties, to palm her mound. Her desire had drenched the soft, curly hairs that tickled my skin.

  She sucked in another breath. "I don't have time for this. Gotta clean up the breakfast dishes from the guest house and—" She exhaled a breathy moan when I dived a finger between her slick folds. "We're all going to the Pioneer Days festival after lunch, so there really isn't…oh…time."

  I thrust my whole hand between her folds, rocking it to rub her flesh. The scent of her desire wafted around us. She smelled incredible.

  "Val, we can't," she said, though her voice was a throaty whisper and her head had tipped back, exposing the delicate column of her throat. Her fingers gripped the counter's edge harder, making tendons rise on the back of her hand. "I have to get to work. This place doesn't run itself."

  "No, you're not leaving yet." I dropped to my knees in front of her, then dragged her jeans and panties down to her ankles. "Not until I've tasted you."

  I grasped the backs of her thighs and lifted, hoisting her ass onto the counter.

  Movement outside the window pulled my attention to the view, and for a second, I swore I noticed a shadow out there. It disappeared so fast I decided it must've been a cloud passing over the sun.

  And I had more important concerns at the moment.

  Eve glanced around as if expecting to see paparazzi outside one of the windows. "We can't. I can't. What if—"

  "No one will know what we're doing. Unless you scream."

  I shoved my head between her thighs, burying my face against her mound and thrusting my tongue between her folds. Her cream tasted sweet and tangy, and the musky scent of her drowned my senses. I draped my arms around her hips while I lapped at her flesh, circled my tongue around her taut nub, and raked my tongue down her cleft and back up to suck her clit into my mouth.

  Her fingers plunged into my hair. "Oh, Val, yes."

  A knock rattled the door.

  I kept licking and suckling her nub, too inflamed by the flavor and heat of her to give up her body or to care who the fuck was knocking.

  She whimpered, her nails scraping my scalp.

  A more forceful knock rattled the door.

  "Eve?" Quentin called. "You in there? I need your input with the repairs."

  "Stop," she hissed to me.

  I pulled back enough to look up at her. The blouse she wore had gotten bunched around her hips. "Tell him to go away."

  "Can't do that." She planted her feet on my chest and pushed me away. "This is my job, Val."

  While I sat back on my haunches, she shimmied her hips as she pulled her jeans and panties up, then zipped up and hurried to the door.

  Her hand on the knob, she glanced back at me. "Better, um, go into another room or something."

  She nodded toward my groin and the erection waving at her.

  I leaned against the island. "Afraid your handyman will be jealous?"

  "Unlike some people, I don't flaunt my sexcapades for the world to see." She flapped her hands, shooing me away. "Go."

  I moved behind the island where Quentin wouldn't see the state Eve had gotten me into here in the kitchen.

  She slipped her feet into the flip-flops she kept beside the door, pulled the door open partway, and sneaked outside. She yanked the door shut after her.

  I shook my head, smiling. Stubborn as she was, Eve wanted me as much as I wanted her, and we would be fucking soon.

  Very soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Eve

  I ordered him not to do it, but Val insisted on helping me clean up the dining hall, take the dishes back to my house, and wash them. He even rushed back to the house to put on skintight jeans and a T-shirt, in accordance with the health code. Quentin tried to help too, but Val kept swooping in first to do everything. He seemed impervious to Quentin's hot glare and his snide comments. My handyman called my newest guest "a human b
ulldozer" and "an exhibitionist with a one-track mind" as well as "a mosquito buffet waiting to happen." The last one didn't make sense since Val was currently wearing clothes, but Quentin chortled at his own joke anyway.

  The three of us carried the dishes back to my house. When Quentin tried to squeeze in to claim the sink first, Val casually asked whether my handyman had finished the repairs "you keep needing your employer's input on."

  Quentin's face turned beet red at that comment. His nostrils flared—something I thought human beings couldn't do, but Quentin sure could. He fisted his hands, seeming about to erupt.

  A fist fight was the last thing I needed, so I shooed Quentin out of the house, telling him to get back to work on the repairs.

  I tried to shoo Val away, but the man was so large and strong I couldn't budge him. Even kicking his feet didn't make an impression. He flashed me a smile and went back to washing the dishes. That meant I stood beside him drying those dishes and trying not to stare at his ass. Those tight jeans didn't conceal much, though I couldn't see the bulge of his dick since he was leaning into the counter.

  My mind kept flashing me back to earlier today when he'd shoved his face between my thighs. God, that had felt incredible. His hot, slick tongue working my flesh. His lips sucking. His fingers pressing into the backs of my thighs. I'd been so close to climax. If Quentin hadn't knocked on the door, I might have enjoyed a rockin' orgasm. Instead, I had to take care of the breakfast mess while my body throbbed from thwarted bliss.

  Oh, and I remembered the glimpse I'd gotten of his aroused cock. When I'd pushed Val away from me, I'd seen it. Damn, the man was beyond well-hung. His erect penis was bigger, thicker, and even more impressive than when it hung slack. I wanted that inside me. I wanted him. More than anything, I'd wanted to tell Quentin to go to hell so I could mount Val right here in the kitchen.

  Too complicated, I reminded myself. He was a notorious celebrity.