Not that we can fuck all day. A man has limits.
My lips press together as my brain kicks in. We need another day like yesterday. Time to connect and get to know each other better. I enjoyed the snorkeling trip, but there are so many other things we can do.
Before I go to her, I call the front desk and arrange a few activities for the day. My thoughts are to keep us active and together as much as possible. We’ll steal a moment here and there, naturally, but I don’t want her to think I only want one thing.
With plans for the day settled, I pull on my shorts and go to meet her.
She doesn’t notice me at first. I take the time to admire the soft curves of her body before I surprise her with a hug from behind.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” I nuzzle against her, placing one soft kiss in the hollow of her neck.
“Good morning.” Her hands go to mine, and she leans into me. “It’s beautiful here. Hard to remember it’s almost Christmas.”
We’ve got two days before Christmas and I have some thoughts about how to make it a fun day for us both.
“Have you ever had Christmas in paradise before?”
“Never.” She gives a little squeeze of my hands.
I sense tension in her body. We need to fix that.
“Last night was fun.” I feather a line of kisses along her neck. It’s a ticklish spot for her, one of many wonderful discoveries made last night.
She squirms in my grip but doesn’t pull away.
“Stop that!” she lightly teases.
“Never.” I reach up to cup her breast and let my thumb drag across her nipple. She responds instantly with a low sigh. Her nipple draws tight and I give it a teasing flick. “I like when you squirm.”
“I’m at your mercy.”
She’s much more submissive than I ever would’ve thought, something I plan on taking advantage of as much as possible. It’s not play or pretend with her, she gets off when I take the lead.
I extricate my other hand from her grip and reach down to cup her mound. Her breathy sigh is a cock tease. I’m instantly hard, something she knows because her ass presses against my groin.
More nibbles along her neck feed my hunger. So fucking responsive. I rub her clit over the fabric of my tee-shirt, then say fuck it and lift the shirt until she’s bare to me. One finger slips between her folds. She’s fucking dripping for me.
“Damn, but I can’t get enough of you.” I work her to a frenzy with my fingers and thumb. I know what she likes and what it takes to get her off. She’s moaning in seconds, shamelessly grinding to get off.
Suddenly her body tenses with her climax. I hold her against me and let her ride my fingers through it. Once she stills, she spins in my arms and wraps her arms around my neck. Lifting on tiptoe, she kisses me.
Her kisses are nothing like mine. Soft, tentative, and unsure, she’s hesitant to initiate. Normally, I take over, but I let her set the pace, perfectly content to enjoy the pillowy-light licks and nibbles she gives.
Her hand reaches down between us, cupping my erection through my shorts.
“What are we going to do about this?”
“Whatever the hell you want.” My cock gives an enthusiastic jerk. I could order her to her knees, be powerful and forceful; she’d like that. Quinn responds fantastically when I order her around, but dominating her isn’t something I press too hard. We’re still too knew to each other and I fear crossing a line and making a fatal mistake. Sex is all about give and take. For now, I keep things light.
“I’ve never had sex on the beach before…” Her hand glides down with a little twist, then pulls up to the crown. She teases me there, rubbing under the flare of my cock where it’s most sensitive, until I can no longer hold back a groan.
“Sex on the beach isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. The sand is gritty and gets in places it shouldn’t.” I’d love to throw her on her back, or put her on her knees and mount her from behind. Unlike her, I’ve had sex on the beach and it never ended well.
We have a few options. One involves her mouth. The other requires a little more vigorous activity on my part. The only problem is I don’t have a condom in these shorts.
In an uncharacteristic move, she takes the initiative from me, going to her knees. She looks up at me, eyes simmering with an unreadable emotion. She’s waiting for me to take the next step.
I remember from last night how she responds when I take over. My girl likes things rough. Rougher than I imagined, which brings up all kinds of possibilities for our future.
One thing women don’t quite understand, even if they respond to it unconsciously, is that men are base creatures in our core makeup. We all want the same thing.
While we admire powerful, independent women—those who are proud and well-poised—we tell them lies when we say we value their independence when it comes to sex.
The truth is far different. Submission fuels our lust. Our very nature demands it. When a woman submits, she gives us the right to unleash the snarling beast within. It gives us permission to release our restraint and be the brutal assholes who take what they want.
She doesn’t realize what she’s doing, at least not on a conscious level.
But I do.
Her surrender is the most powerful turn on in the world.
“Fuck, do you have any idea what that does to me?”
Does she know taking control flips a switch inside me?
A low groan escapes me when she leans forward and lightly kisses the tip of my cock. Her action is reverent, as if asking permission, or waiting for me to take control. She doesn’t take me in her mouth. Instead, she turns those eyes on me, the ones that beg for those things she’s not able to openly accept.
If we had all the time in the world, this is something we’d have time to explore. But we don’t.
My hand goes to her head and I take a grip of her hair. I’m not beyond taking what I need. With a press of my lips, my jaw locks as I force her onto my cock.
The rest is a blur as I rut and fuck and come down her throat. My toes curl. The arch of my foot cramps as I come. It hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m too far gone with lust and the pleasure rushing through me from the force of my orgasm to care.
She sits back on her heels, looking pleased. Ignoring the cramp in my foot, I comb back her hair, sweeping it off her face. I tap her upper lip.
“I think I’m an addict. I can’t get enough of this mouth.”
Her expression brightens beneath my praise. I could seriously keep her here all day long, fucking each other’s brains out, but we need to eat.
And honestly, I’m more entranced than ever before. Any other woman, I wouldn’t think twice about spending the rest of the week doing nothing but fucking. Quinn, however, piques my curiosity.
I need to know her better.
Crouching down to her level, I ignore the spasm in my foot. Tiny aftershocks from my orgasm flood my system as I gaze into her eyes.
“You’re something quite unexpected, Miss Quinn Hayes.”
She nibbles on her lower lip. It’s my new, instant turn on. However, my dick is happily spent, satiated for the moment.
“As are you.” She gives a little shake of her head. “Last night was…” Her gaze takes on a faraway look as her mind pieces together the rest of that thought.
I’m learning little things about her with each passing hour. I know her ticklish spots. Her erogenous zones are firmly imprinted in my mind. I know other things, things she’s unaware of, like her inherent submissiveness during sex.
I’m well aware last night was an eye-opening experience for her, which makes me sad. It’s sad to think this amazing woman, this sexual creature, never truly had a chance to open up and embrace her sexuality until last night. That goes on the long list of reasons why I hate Scott, as well as any other lovers she’s taken in her life. We haven’t talked about our pasts, but I have a feeling she’s had very few lovers.
“Last night was perfect. You were perfe
ct. You are perfect.” I can’t praise her perfection enough. “I enjoyed every second of last night.” I lean forward to kiss her. A gentle kiss meant to connect rather than arouse. “Are you hungry?”
Her hand covers her belly and she gives a nod.
“I thought to order room service, but if you’re up for a little adventure, there’s something else we can do.”
“Something else?”
“How are you around horses?”
“Um…” She bites at her lower lip. “Not familiar with them, but willing to try? I rode a couple of times as a girl. You know, state fair kinds of things. We were in a corral and walked in circles. I didn’t fall off.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I think you’ll be okay. These horses are easygoing and used to new riders. I was thinking we’d take them for a walk on the trails. It’s one of the resort’s most popular activities. It ends on the beach and the horses wade in the water.”
“It sounds fun. I should probably head back to my place and get something to wear.”
A grin fills my face. Our clothes are a bit of a mess after last night.
“Give me a second to change, then I’ll walk you there.”
We head back inside where I change and grab a small backpack full of bug spray and sunscreen. We hold hands all the way to her villa. I love how her small hand fits inside mine. That’s another thing that’s new. I never hold hands. I’ll drape my arm around my dates. Hold them tight to me around the waist. I’ll lend the crook of my arm, but never have I ever held hands with a woman.
I’ve spent many Christmas holidays here, hiding from my mother, and realize how it must feel for someone not used to the tropical climate this time of year.
We try to dress the place up. Festive red and green lights illuminate the palm trees at night, but they’re there most of the year. The gardeners have fun, hanging large ornaments from the palm fronds. There’s a tiny Christmas village set up outside the main dining room. Stick reindeer stand in the many gardens. We try to bring the Christmas spirit to paradise, but it’s hard to compete with the tropical climate.
Lunch is a success. Quinn shows no hesitation with the horses. Two other couples join us for our horseback riding adventure. I typically don’t indulge in the sponsored activities, preferring to spend my time isolated in my villa where either work consumes me, or the flavor of the week satisfies my sexual cravings.
It’s nice to ignore work and relax. With Quinn by my side, that’s exactly what I do.
We mount up on our horses and our guides take us through a lush canopy. Dense foliage crowds the trail. Birds flutter overhead, chirping and singing to one another. I breathe in the floral aromas of tropical flowers mixed in with the musk of the horse beneath me and the loamy soil underneath its hooves.
We wander for a bit until the thick vegetation parts before us and reveals the glistening expanse of a pristine private beach. We have fun here, letting the horses lead. They canter and dance, eager to spend time outside of their stalls.
Our guide takes us to the water’s edge where the horses prance in the ripples left by the waves lapping the shore. He leads us into the water and the horses happily follow. I sense this is their favorite part of the trail. They head out until the water laps at their bellies. Snorting and shaking their manes.
My feet trail in the water and my heart warms at the excitement filling Quinn’s face. She’s positively radiant. If I could, I’d bottle this moment and keep it with me forever.
We get off the horses to enjoy lunch on the beach. The staff puts out an amazing spread. Each couple gets a blanket, and while we could separate, the six of us have bonded during the ride. We pull the blankets close and enjoy a meal together as we talk about everything and nothing. Quinn leans against me; holds my hand. She’s in constant contact, and it feels—good. Perfect, actually.
But then my mother intrudes.
Her short, concise text demands an immediate response. Not answering isn’t possible. She knows I’m at Euphoria and why. I’m fortunate she agrees with me. She’s no more interested in wasting her holidays with her son than I am spending it with my mother.
Nevertheless, I must answer.
After our ride, I have us scheduled for parasailing, and I plan a romantic sunset dinner cruise with dancing afterward. I want to get Quinn back out on the dance floor where I can hold her in my arms.
“This is simply perfect.” Quinn sighs with contentment in my arms.
“You’re perfect.” Her smile brings a flush of warmth to my body. I trace the outline of her jaw, and run the pad of my finger across her lips. She sucks my finger into her mouth. The swirling of her tongue sends heat rushing to my groin.
“I planned on parasailing after this, but I just received a text I must answer.”
“That’s okay.”
“It’s a business call.” Family business but business nonetheless.
She places her hand on my knee. “Really, don’t worry about it. We’ve got all day. If you need a minute or two, or even a couple hours, I could use a nap.” As if to emphasize her point, she yawns. “Sorry.”
Our guide gathers us together and we set off down the beach, heading back to the main area of the resort. It’s been a beautiful day. I’m loath to leave Quinn alone, but I need to see what my mother needs.
For her to contact me is never a good sign.
Twenty-Six
Quinn
There’s a problem with perfect days, perfect escapes, and a man who adds that final, crucial layer of perfection to the most perfect getaway.
Like all things, this must end. It kills me when I leave Hawke so he can take care of that business call. I tell him I’m headed back to my villa for a much-needed nap.
But it’s a lie.
Instead, I head to the main desk and speak with the concierge.
“May I help you, Miss Hayes?” A beautiful girl named Iris beams the brightest smile at me. It’s as if she exists for only one purpose, and that’s to please me.
“I hope so.” I twist my fingers. My nerves are at an all-time high.
This is wrong. This is wrong.
“I need to change my return flight.”
Don’t do it.
“Of course. Will you be extending your stay with us then?”
“Sadly, no. I need to leave tomorrow.”
My mind is made up. It’s not often I ignore my inner voice, but I seem to be doing it a lot lately—responding with emotions instead of logical thought.
Iris’ eyes widen with alarm. She covers quickly and ducks her head. The blue glow of the monitor shines in her eyes. She speaks without looking at me, all her concentration on that monitor.
“Has everything been satisfactory?” Her gaze flicks up to meet mine then dodges back down.
“Yes, it’s been amazing. The staff is incredible. I’ve never felt so pampered in my life.”
Or so well fucked, but she doesn’t need to know that little bit.
“I see. If there’s anything we can do to improve, please let us know.”
“There’s nothing. I just had a change in plans.” More like a change in heart. Or a realization. “I’m trying to make it home for Christmas.”
I miss my family. My obnoxious brothers will be happy to have me home. I can’t not tell them about this change in plans, but I want to keep my arrival a surprise for Mother and Daddy. A visit to the gift shop is in order. I’ll need something for presents.
“Oh, yes, of course, let’s see if we can make that happen.” Her fingers fly quickly over the keys.
Presents for my brothers are easy. All they need are tee-shirts and ball caps. Mom deserves something fancier. There’s a small collection of jewelry I spied in the gift shop, which should do fine. Daddy will be the tough one.
“Do you have your return flight confirmation code?” Iris glances up at me, all sweet smiles and gracious eyes.
I pull up the information on my phone.
My stomach does a little flip and I press
my hand to my belly. I survived the flight out here, I can damn well survive the flight home. Only this time, I won’t mix alcohol and cough medicine.
And you won’t have a handsome stranger sitting next to you either.
I know exactly what I leave behind, but that’s the thing.
Hawke isn’t mine.
Her fingers continue their mad dance across the keyboard. “There’s a flight leaving tomorrow at noon. It doesn’t get in until eleven at night. Will that be okay?”
I press my lips together thinking about that. My hope had been to get home earlier in the day. That way I could spend Christmas Eve with my family and go to church with them in the evening. Christmas Eve services are a big deal for my parents.
“Is there anything earlier?”
“I’m afraid not, unless you want to leave today, and there’s a significant charge to change the ticket.” She looks at me with regret. “It’s an additional three hundred dollars.”
Ouch.
“I knew there would be a rebooking fee, but damn that’s steep.”
“I’m sorry.”
Not really keen on leaving today, I consider my options. Truthfully, I’m not ready to leave Hawke. I need one more night.
One selfish night in paradise.
I could stay through New Year’s and investigate my fascination with Hawke. Truly look at it from all angles. Weigh the pros and cons of letting whatever we have continue. See if there’s any future with my enigmatic new flame.
But there’s not. I’m not fooling myself.
The resort offers plenty of amenities I’ve yet to explore. It would be fun to enjoy everything Euphoria offers with someone else. There’s really not a compelling reason to leave. Except, the circumstances that brought me here no longer apply.
My intention had been to get away from Scott and nurse my broken heart in paradise. I anticipated days of moping around, licking my wounds, and bemoaning my fate.
I figured paradise would make me forget it’s the Christmas season; a time typically spent with family, friends, and new fiancés.
Euphoria tries to be festive. They decorate with tiny touches of the holidays, but what they can’t hide are the turquoise waters, the endless skies, and foliage, which is always in bloom. They can’t hide the flocks of parrots roosting in the trees, brightly colored birds that call and sing to one another. They can’t hide the rustling of the palm fronds as they’re tickled by the ocean breeze. They can’t hide the sparkling sand and warm waters, which welcome weary travelers and wash away their fatigue.
Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club) Page 18
