Make That Man Mine

by Shelley Munro

  “Nothing,” he muttered, checking his watch. Perhaps it was as he’d thought—they’d lucked out scoring a room that voyeurs could access, making the addition of sound unnecessary. Or they’d decided it would be easier to add a soundtrack later, something that would appeal more to their audiences than the words the innocent actors might say. Jack grimaced. Nah, it couldn’t be that simple. Surely, they’d want sound? Jack crossed over to the bed and sat while he considered the problem. Where the hell could they hide sound equipment? Enlightenment hit, along with a feral grin of triumph. Under the bloody bed.

  Bingo, he thought less than a minute after his brainwave. He tugged at the wiring in such a way that it appeared as though the resort staff had damaged it while vacuuming under the bed. He’d check each time he returned to the room. It should be simple enough now he knew what to look for.

  He wandered over to the window and stared out, wondered if he should worry about Emma’s absence.

  Outside, the sun was starting to set. Ribbons of fiery red and orange spread across the horizon as the sun sank lower. Over on the mainland, people started to switch on their lights and they twinkled in pockets of illuminations along the coast.

  Jack paced the length of the bedroom and back. Time for a drink. Tension thrummed through him, and he didn’t have to think too hard to analyze the cause. Emma. Jack checked his watch again before deciding to shower and change for the themed pirate dinner the resort was hosting.

  Half an hour later, Jack was ready, dressed in tight black trousers and a loose white shirt that made him feel like a sissy. Tight black leather boots encased his feet and calves. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and snorted. He’d be glad when this assignment was over and his life got back to normal. He was really looking forward to the tarts and vicars night later in the week.

  What the devil was Emma doing? Although they hadn’t agreed on a time to meet back at the room, it had been implied it would be before dinner. In his mind at least. He grabbed up the keycard, thrust it inside his back trouser pocket and slammed from the room. If something had happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. And if she didn’t have a good reason for not showing up and worrying him, he was going to wring her bloody neck.

  The bar near the restaurant was hopping, full of pirates ready to plunder and party the night away. Emma wasn’t there. A few people had drifted into the restaurant and the reception area, but no sign of Emma. The pool bar wasn’t as busy but there was a cluster of people, mainly men at the far end of the outdoor balcony. Despite the warmth of the evening, a gas heater burned above the table where the group sat. Roars of laughter filled the air followed by the odd groan.

  “Come on, Emma,” a male voice chided loudly. “Concentrate.”

  Jack’s gut tightened as he strode up to the massed group.

  “Forget what he said, love.” The voice was low and slurred. “Don’t concentrate. Get your gear off. Show us your pussy.”

  Jack scowled and elbowed his way through the men crowding around the table.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” a man snapped.

  Jack cast him a ferocious glare and the man backed up to let him through. Jack took one look and cursed.

  Fuck, he was gonna wring her scrawny neck. His hands flexed at the pleasurable thought as he scanned her flushed face. The woman was tipsy, giggling fit to wake the dead and practically naked. His gaze tracked over her butt, and he corrected himself. She was naked. Those panties didn’t cover enough to call her clothed.

  He stepped up behind her naked back and bent to breathe in her ear. “What are you doing?”

  Emma whirled around so quickly her naked breasts bobbed up and down. “Losing,” she warbled.

  Alcoholic fumes hit him in the face. “I can see that,” Jack said with a calm he didn’t feel.

  The other four women sitting around the table were in various stages of undress but they were all more fully clothed than Emma. Jack wanted to grab a towel, a tablecloth, anything to cover her beautiful naked breasts. All of a sudden he felt possessive. He didn’t want the others to see the tiny mole on the curve of her left breast. And if the guy behind him didn’t stop pushing so he could cop an eyeful of Emma and her semi-clothed friends, Jack was going to rearrange his nose for him. The beefy male could have fries with the rearranged nose if he wanted—Jack wasn’t fussy.

  Emma turned around and beckoned him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “I don’t want to lose. I hate to lose, but I don’t know what to do with my hand. Can you help me?”

  “Yeah, okay. What have you got in your hand?”

  Emma fanned out her cards so he could see. Feeling the weight of a stare, Jack glanced up. Every one of the four women sitting at the table was staring at him. Suddenly Jack felt like a lump of beef being chucked to the dogs. He turned away to concentrate on Emma’s cards. She had a pair of sixes and that was it. Jack maintained an impassive face. With that hand, she was stuffed. Unless she bluffed. Jack leaned closer to whisper instructions in her ear. She turned to him and winked.

  Surprise kicked him in the ribs. Emma wasn’t as drunk as she seemed.

  “Are you in?” the dark-haired woman who was dealing asked.

  Emma’s body language screamed confident, and pride grew in Jack. “I’m in.”

  “Cards?” the dealer asked.

  Emma didn’t bother to look at her cards before she shook her head.

  “I’ll take two,” one woman said.

  The men crowding the table were silent as they watch the ending stages of the game. Jack scanned the faces, ready to lash out if anyone tried to help out by letting the others know that Emma was bluffing.

  “I fold.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m out.” The cards slapped face down on the table.

  The last woman studied Emma then laid her cards down. “I’m out.”

  “Take it off! Take it off!” The chant started with one man then others joined in as the four women removed a garment each.

  Jack noticed gooseflesh forming on Emma and decided to take action. “Sorry to be a spoil sport, but I need Emma to come with me. Maybe you can finish the game tomorrow?” Over his dead body.

  “Good,” said the slim blonde sitting on Emma’s right. “I’m getting cold, and I’m also chicken.” She laughed, gesturing at her pale pink panties. They were the only item of clothing she wore. “I have a premonition that I’m going to be the first naked body. I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.”

  Jack relaxed as the men started to drift away. “Ladies.” He inclined his head and turned to Emma. “Ready?”

  Emma knew he wasn’t pleased with her. It was in the set of his shoulders and the grim line of his mouth. Well, he could just deal with it. She had flushed out a few leads to check out tomorrow, and she wasn’t going to apologize for her methods. Besides, she wasn’t the only one to bare her breasts tonight.

  “It won’t take me long to get ready. I’ll meet you back here if you like.”

  Jack handed Emma her T-shirt, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. “I don’t think so.”

  Damn, he was going to be difficult.

  Emma pulled the shirt over her head then yanked on her denim shorts. She picked up her shoes, dropped them inside the canvas bag the spa had allowed her to keep and stalked off. She heard Jack fall into step behind her.

  The walk back to their room took forever. Emma was very conscious of Jack walking behind. She could practically feel his glare between her shoulder blades but that didn’t stop her adding an extra little sway to her hips. Her nipples were already pulled tight from the chill of the night air but now they tingled insistently. She sucked in a hasty breath and hastened her pace. The path changed from pavement to gravel. Emma winced at the sharp stones beneath the soles of her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” The tone was sharp enough to tell her this was a man on the edge. She’d pushed him hard enough.

  “Bare feet,” s
he muttered.

  Without warning, he swept her off her feet and dangled her over his shoulder. Her butt poked up into the air and the blood rushed to her head. Her canvas bag hit his ass with each step.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked, kicking out ineffectually with her feet. “My brains will fall out.”

  “Close your mouth and you won’t lose them,” he snapped, tightening his grip on her flailing legs. He continued to stride along the graveled path without difficulty or labored breathing.

  Emma took a deep breath ready to harangue him when she glanced down toward the ground. Her gaze lit on his butt. It was tightly encased in black trousers that gave her a spectacular view. Emma wanted to bite. Really badly. She licked her lips and suddenly being so close to Jack wasn’t an undignified punishment. It was a gift. Her heart pounded as he strode through the automatic doors at the entrance to their block of rooms. Between her legs moistened with the carnal thoughts, truly wicked thoughts that circled her mind like a bird of prey after an evening meal.

  “Quit that,” Jack barked as he paused outside their room and plucked the keycard from his pocket. He shouldered open the door and negotiated the doorway without hurting Emma. Then he let her slide back over his shoulder until her feet hit the ground. The brush of her unbound breasts against his shoulder and hard chest made her gasp. The intimate touch of his hand on her ass as he helped her stand made her gulp.

  “Quit what,” she whispered.

  “Those little sighs,” he muttered, moving away from her as if she’d scalded him. His dark eyes were wary as they moved over her face then flickered down her body.

  Emma barely suppressed her shiver of desire.

  Jack could smell her arousal, and it had woken the taniwha inside, the part he was desperately trying to keep in a locked compartment. The beast roared his need for sex. Hot, sweaty, no-holds-barred sex. Then she walked toward him, her hips swaying with a pert wiggle that made his throat tighten along with every appendage on his body. When he felt the wall at his back, he realized he’d been in a steady retreat. With the wall behind him, the only way to avoid Emma was to move her out of the way. Which would involve touching.

  She touched him first, and he couldn’t restrain a flinch. Her fingers were hot, the heat searing through his thin shirt and into his skin beneath.

  “You like my sighs?” Her voice was low. Breathy. And made him think of sex even more. His cock was painfully tight, nudging against the placket of his trousers.

  “No.” Damn, the one night had been bad enough. But another night… His conscience groaned then spoke sternly to him. Don’t. Do. It.

  “You’re trembling.”

  Him? He didn’t…shit! He was shaking like a tree in a storm. “Hadn’t you better get ready for the pirate dinner?” Feeble, Jack. Real feeble. Exert yourself, man. Act like you’re her boss instead of a victim. He watched mesmerized as she licked her lips until they gleamed in the moonlit room.

  “Suddenly, I don’t feel like going to the dinner. I’m tired.” He caught her glance at the bed with a sense of alarm. With that come-hither look in her blue eyes, no way did she want to go to bed to sleep!

  Chapter Five

  The woman was undressing him with her eyes. Jack felt the situation escalating from his control and with the taniwha’s roars pounding inside his head, his grip was tenuous at best. Then she raised a hand and traced the V of flesh visible at his neck. Jack lost it. He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her against his chest. Man, she felt good, her soft curves pillowed against him. She leaned all her weight against him, brushing her belly against his sensitive cock. His cursed trousers were so tight Jack thought he’d lose circulation to his groin if he didn’t get them off soon. The thought faded when their lips collided, greedy and ravenous for a taste of each other. He explored the moist cavern of her mouth, the contrasting hardness of her teeth and the softness inside her cheek. She tasted of limes and salt. Emma. It was damn addictive. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.

  Her blue eyes glittered and a soft smile played on her lips. “Did you want to go to the dinner?”

  “No.” But he didn’t want to do this either. Another night of horizontal dancing with Emma smacked of heading down Commitment Road. Just a hop, skip and a dance away from Wedding Row.

  His hands tightened around her shoulders. Nope, he didn’t want this. He was going to push her away. Push her away—

  Liar.

  Jack wanted sex with Emma so badly his hands, his body still trembled. Even the idea of them being watched didn’t bother him as much as it did at the start.

  Her warm hands burrowed under the fabric of his shirt, and just like that, Jack’s willpower toppled and he gave up the fight. “Dammit, woman. You’re killing me here. If you’re going to undo things, start with the trousers. They’re cutting off my circulation.”

  “Poor baby,” she cooed. “Can’t have that.” She redirected her busy hands to the fly of his trousers and cupped his erection, teasing him some more.

  Jack heard her wildly beating pulse and knew she was excited. “I bet your panties are wet. I bet you’re wet for me.”

  A soft blush suffused her cheeks. “Why don’t you find out?” she whispered, her lashes drifting down to hide the sleepy expression in her blue eyes.

  Holding back a grin, he slid his hands beneath the hem of her T-shirt. Blue. It matched her eyes. His hand skimmed the warm flesh of her belly. She sucked in a rapid breath and her stomach as well. Jack decided to ignore the feminine vanity. To his mind, she was perfect. He didn’t get a sore neck when he kissed her, and he didn’t feel in danger of flattening her if he took her in a missionary position. Yeah, she was perfect—more’s the pity. His fingers traced across her rib cage then a little higher to hold the generous weight of one plump breast. He lifted her T-shirt, exposing her breasts to his gaze.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered. Jack wet his forefinger in his mouth then traced around the areola of one breast. Her pink nipple puckered, drawing tighter before his fascinated eyes. Leaning closer, he blew, his breath moist. Warm. Emma shuddered and made a tiny sound of encouragement at the back of her throat. Jack had never really taken the time to explore a feminine body. Had never been interested in anything but satiating the taniwha’s demands. But now, despite the insistent pain in his groin, he wanted to touch, to explore the mysteries of Emma. He pressed a kiss in the valley between her breasts then licked along the fine web of blue veins beneath the pale surface. Strawberries. Tonight, she smelled of sweet, juicy strawberries.

  “Stop teasing me,” she said in a thick voice.

  “I want to make sure I win my bet. I want you wet—dripping with your juices—so I can pound between your legs the minute I remove your panties.”

  Another shudder racked Emma’s body. Jack smiled against the curve of her breast and placed tiny kisses, tantalizingly brief on the top of her breasts, near her nipple and on the undersides of the plump globes.

  Emma tangled her hands in his hair, gripping tightly as she tried to direct his mouth to her nipple. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, and Jack’s amusement deepened.

  “Hurry up,” she muttered with a grumpy edge to her voice.

  Instead of giving her the relief she wanted, Jack let his hands drop to the dome snap at the waistband of her shorts. He tugged the snap and it parted with a sharp crack. The zipper slid down, allowing the denim material to sag down around her hips. Jack wet his finger again and ran it along the elastic waistband of her panties. He studied the wet trail he’d left and sucked in a deep breath. Man, his cock ached, the pressure for release intense and unrelenting. But if he waited, held off, his orgasm would be mind-blowing. A memory to dig out when he returned to solitary life alone in his seaside home with only his scruffy tomcat for company.

  Jack knelt in front of her, sliding the shorts down her long legs. He helped her balance so she could step out and kick them away.

  The scent of her arousal hit him—sp
icy and seductive and with a hint of strawberry. The same fruity aroma that perfumed her skin. He pressed his nose against her lower belly and breathed in her scent so he would remember. His lips moved, and he scraped his teeth against the sensitive flesh, nipping then soothing.

  “I’m hot for you now, Jack,” she said almost defiantly.

  “Let’s see, shall we?” But even though his words indicated action, he still dallied, teasing both of them to the point of madness. He palmed her naked buttocks, gripping one cheek in each hand. More than a handful, just the way he liked—a sexy curve to hold on to when he wanted to thrust into her tight pussy. He kneaded the flesh, enjoying the fact she didn’t attempt to hide her generous ass or try to move away from his attentions to that area of her body. Jack liked that about Emma—her acceptance of her size.

  He loosened his grip on one butt cheek and ran his fingers in the crevice between. Emma jumped in surprise as he followed the G-string down. Then she rocked her hips, trying to massage her clit to gain relief.

  “Not yet, sweet cheeks.” Jack allowed his finger to travel between her legs, just a brief foray. His finger emerged wet. Emma was ready for his possession. Jack tipped back his head to meet her gaze.

  “Please,” she murmured, moving her weight from foot to foot.

  He lifted the damp finger to his mouth and maintaining her gaze, he licked it, savoring the tart taste of her juices. Emma moaned, her blue eyes dark with arousal.

  “Would you like my mouth on you? We haven’t done that yet.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction before she nodded.

  Jack ran his fingers under the elastic band of her g-string and slowly tugged away her panties.

  There were changes from this morning. “What have you done?” he murmured, shaking his head. It seemed the spa had a lot to answer for. “What else did you do in that spa?”

  Emma glanced down at her pelvic region. “Don’t you like it? I thought my heart looked sexy. And besides, you made the appointment.”

  Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “It’s…cute,” he said finally, staring at the close-clipped heart that shielded her femininity. Jack drew her panties down her legs and then leaned closer to lick around the edge of the heart. She smelled intoxicating, and he gave in to the temptation to comb his fingers through the heart then made a quick foray down her naked cleft. “You’re not sore?”