“Are you close to him?” he asked.
The question stung the old wound as she forced a neutral tone to her voice. “No, he’s English. They had a brief affair. How was it growing up in a large family?” she asked, wanting to detour the questioning.
His smile slipped, he was seeing inside of her again. Down to the parts she especially wanted to keep hidden from his prying eyes. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before he looked away, releasing her.
“It was great, actually. Big holiday dinners, extravagant birthday parties, all the things you’d expect. I love my sisters, and my mom. My dad makes me pull my hair out at times, but I’m lucky to have all of them. Sometimes I think it’d be nice not to have so many noses in my personal life. ‘Jonathon, when are you going to settle down? Jonathon, why are you making a spectacle of yourself in the tabloids?’”
He chuckled, his humor returning. He stretched his long legs out and crossed his ankles, leaning back on his hands. She looked over the corded muscle of his thighs and calves, their sprinkling of hair, and the multitude of bites left behind by sand fleas and mosquitoes. Though breathtakingly beautiful from the outside, Paradise certainly lost its glamour from the inside as she compared the ugly red spots on her own legs to his.
She thought of what it’d be like to see Sarah all over the media. “Well, to be fair you’re in the gossip quite a bit. I’d hate to see my daughter there.”
“It’d be embarrassing, eh?” He lifted an eyebrow but kept his attention on the rain.
“No, that’s not it.” Phoebe brushed wet, sticky sand off of her feet. “You just don’t want to see people picking on your child or making a mockery of their life. Whether the gossip is true or not.”
He stared outside, and again she saw his smile briefly slip. “It’s a game, angel. It’s all a game.” He exhaled loudly. “Soon enough, they’ll tire of me.”
Will it break your heart? To be forgotten? She’d seen many famous people fall into the trap media outlets so skillfully set. Letting people get a taste of their undying devotion before snatching the love away. Denying them affection, forcing them to make even bigger spectacles of themselves. Making people dance like trained but hungry bears in some cruel circus act.
Cybil played the game, and she did it well, and Phoebe always wondered if Cybil’s unstable childhood had been to blame. News reporters, fans, and paparazzi all might fill the role of attentive parents.
“Are you…seriously involved with anyone?” Phoebe swallowed, hating the question as soon as it’d been voiced.
His eyes settled on her. Those unsettling silvery eyes. I remember they looked like vampire’s eyes in the way they glowed the night at the party. If he suddenly bared his teeth and showed extended canines, she couldn’t be sure if she’d be surprised. After all, he was a man who held a natural and effortless power over women. Animal magnetism? Surely, that’s what they meant by the phrase.
His tongue darted out, licking his lips. Her breaths hitched, her heartbeat tripped. Rain leaked through the hut, tracing trails down his chest. Trails she became fascinated by and followed until they disappeared at the waistband of his briefs.
“No, Phoebe, I’m not serious with anyone,” he replied, barely above a whisper. “But maybe I’d like to be.”
Her gaze darted back up, colliding with Jonathon’s. He looked absolutely sincere as he reached out and caught a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. He let it trail to the end.
She knew better than to believe his lines, and tried desperately to recall the last gossip report she’d heard about him. Something to tarnish the moment and wrench her from his grasp. Nothing came to mind, because in that moment nothing else mattered but the surging sensations barreling through her which had nothing to do with being cold and miserable.
She was wet, but not from the rain.
Chapter 9
Phoebe’s big dark eyes, her parted lips, the way her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, all combined to crush his resolve about keeping his hands to himself. Jonathon thought the riddle had been solved, he’d seen her in the media somewhere tied to her famous mother. Yet, as he reached out and undid her hair from its bun, he knew that wasn’t the answer to the mystery either.
Her long hair fell free, and he ran his fingers through it, bringing it around to drape atop her breasts. A glossy curtain stained nearly black from being soaked by the downpour trickling into the haphazard shelter. He traced along the top of the bandeau she’d fashioned from palm leaves, watching goose bumps rise on her tanned skin.
“Tell me this is okay,” he said, fixated on droplets beaded along her cleavage, needing to hear it from her plump, rain-moistened lips. “That I can touch you like this. That I can worship every inch of you right now.”
He held his breath, the tightening in his groin tipping toward pain. She deserved more than a fast fuck from a guy like him, so he swore it’d be more. He’d make love to her. They had all the time in the world on a planet called Paradise no one else called home. All the time he’d ever need to show someone exactly how he felt about them.
And how did he feel? As desire and doubt played over Phoebe’s face beneath the shifting shadows of blowing palms, he considered the question. For once his dick didn’t rule the moment when he had a desirable woman at hand. The ache for sexual release mingled with the softening in his heart. A strange and heady mix he didn’t want to take the time to decipher. Loss of sleep, he reasoned, and lack of food was to blame.
“Jonathon.” His name was a warm breath that passed from her lips. “It’s okay.”
A soft sigh followed her words of permission. He reached up and clicked off her camera, removing it before he turned his own off and set it aside. The show creators would be aggravated at being denied what followed, but he definitely wasn’t there to make a “cheap porno” for them. They’d seen too much already as far as he was concerned. He was still angry they’d set him up to look like a jackass by throwing a box of condoms in his bag. For God’s sake, did they really think he could woo Phoebe with a box of rubbers? Whatever was growing between he and Phoebe definitely had nothing to do with any scheming on the producers’ part.
He cupped Phoebe’s face, leaned down, and stared into her brown eyes. “Angel, you do things to me. Incredible things, and I want to make love to you,” he said, wanting her to know the gravity of what would follow. Not sex, he didn’t want simple fucking. He wanted her now, but he knew he’d want her after the show ended. He’d want her a month from now, two months from now, three, and how would they make it work? He’d learned she lived in California, and he lived in Texas.
Plus, she had a kid. She’d be careful and protective who she introduced into her daughter’s life. Would I make a good father? The question drifted through his thoughts, one he’d asked himself days before while with her. No, he thought. He lived from day to day, hour to hour. His life revolved around fun and pleasure. What kind of role model was that? For a fun loving uncle, fine, but for someone who had a stake in the emotional health of a child?
The tumble of thoughts went through his mind within the few seconds it took for Phoebe to answer him in five breathless words, “Make love to me then.”
Everything evaporated save the sweet taste of her lips when he claimed them. She yielded as he pulled her into his arms to straddle his thighs. Passion stoked into desire then turned to pure lust as she ground against him, her moans of pleasure louder than the pounding rain drenching them inside the hut. His fingers spanned her waist, and he felt her stomach muscles tighten as she leaned into his kiss. He stroked his hands back and down, cupping her firm ass through the skirt and panties. He groaned, moving her against him, guiding her into a torturous rhythm over his hard-on. Frustrated with the clothing separating them from the fast union he craved.
He broke free of her lips, desperate for air, but couldn’t stay away from her. He lapped and sucked water off her neck. She tasted of coconut, salt, and island air. Maybe co
conut wasn’t so bad after all, he thought in passing. Had he ever had such a flavor on his tongue? It was an intoxicating mix to be savored, and he followed the taste along her collarbone, pausing where her upper arm met her shoulder. Even her sweat had the crisp aroma of the island, something he hadn’t expected. After days without antiperspirants he had assumed they both would stink to high heaven.
A fascinating experience and he stored it away to memory, knowing for certain another woman would never offer him such sweetness. Such genuine responses to his touch. They belonged to Phoebe Heart, and her alone.
Phoebe caressed his shoulders then the back of his neck. “Please, Jonathon,” she pleaded, grabbing and pulling his hair. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He buried his face between her breasts, grabbing the palm leaf top she’d made, ripping it away before working the clasp of her bra. It popped free, spilling her breasts to his roving gaze and hands. They were beautiful, large, tipped by dark, budded nipples. He grabbed one between his lips and she cried out, her nails biting into his shoulders. The pain laced with lust, tearing away the last of his control.
The shelter was too small to maneuver in, and Jonathon growled then pushed her outside, beneath the warm, driving rain. He grabbed her underwear, yanking them down with the palm leaf skirt. Phoebe spread for him, her pussy glistening, while the black trimmed hair above it collected drops of rain into fascinating crystal orbs. Thunder rolled above as he dropped down and licked up the water from the soft hair. Phoebe gasped, clawing at the back of his head, trying to pull him closer. Passion drunk, he sat back, sucking down air.
“You’ll be the end of me,” he said. God, he was about to lose it. He cupped his throbbing cock through his boxer briefs, needing to cool down.
Phoebe pushed up onto her knees. Rain streamed down her body, off the tips of her nipples and spikey eyelashes. A wicked sea nymph, he thought, not an angel. One which had appeared on the blazing sand five days before, because what other explanation could there be for the power she held? She owned him, from the moment Jonathon had laid eyes on her days ago, Phoebe had owned him.
That strange softening, shifting in his heart left him smiling like a fool. She reached down and moved his hand aside, pulling his cock out and taking hold of his shaft. He blinked rain out of his eyes as she stroked up to his tip, squeezing his glans lightly. Her lips drew up into the devil’s grin and she dropped down to her hands and knees. She took him inside her hot mouth and he let out a shuddering breath. He turned his face up to the rain as she took him to the back of her throat.
“Angel, angel, angel…”
Pulsating thrills shot through him, making it hard to stay upright. He stared at her tantalizing ass. He reached out, stroking her lower back, running a hand over her fleshy backside before giving her a firm smack on the butt. She squealed in surprise, but he held her head in place with his other hand, and she sucked him harder.
Jonathon squeezed his eyes shut, testing the boundaries of his endurance while she worked magic on his cock. He trembled and bared his teeth, stretching out the pleasure as long as possible, wanting the delirious moment to last an eternity. Never had a blow-job felt so incredible. His balls tightened, and finally he pulled back from her lips.
He guided her onto her back on the sand, and kissed the tops of her breasts. Water beaded on her skin and he sucked the moisture away, leaving red marks behind as he traveled over her chest. He paused long enough to love her nipples until they formed rigid peaks. First one and then the other. Fascinating. The word played over and over in his mind, because every single inch of her fit the description. Experience warred with an impatience he hadn’t felt since losing his virginity in his teens.
He moved down to her stomach. His lips, teeth, and tongue traced every inch of the flat plane. Along the break where her tan met paler skin on her pelvis, over the stretch marks where she’d carried her daughter, before he nipped at her hip bones.
Phoebe thrust her hips up, begging him for more. He sat back on his heels and parted her knees. Driving rain beat his shoulders, and washed down her inner thighs. She moaned and arched. Reaching down, her slim fingers slipped within her pussy, and he watched as she opened her labia to the pelting drops of rain. He let the rain do the work, and each time a fat drop hit just the right spot she’d suck air through her teeth. A hedonistic show and he grasped his cock, feeling its steely length, realizing he hadn’t been as hard in years.
He worked his cock. Pleasure swelled, wanting to swallow him whole. Jonathon was a lost man when it came to Phoebe Heart.
Chapter 10
The rain shower drove between her thighs. The drops felt like the light, teasing taps of a lover’s fingers on her clit while the running rain felt like his sensual caress. Phoebe rubbed her pussy, needing to ease the tightness, needing release from the frustration. Jonathon’s molten gaze watched her, his own hand moving up and down his cock. She studied the motion, storing it away. Next time she’d know how to handle him.
Next time? an inner voice taunted. Phoebe didn’t want to ponder why she was already planning a next time between the two of them. She was in the middle of another big mistake and her weakness mocked her. Jonathon had said he wanted to make love to her, but she couldn’t allow something so intimate. Sex was sex, but making love opened doors she didn’t want to peer through. She’d always been strong, a rock for her daughter and sometimes her mother.
Why can’t I be human too? Why can’t I have my own weaknesses?
Jonathon stood and shoved his underwear down his hips. His erection thrust forward, bobbing as he dropped back to his knees. He was between her legs, his palms stroking down her inner thighs. She moved her hand away. He licked his lips, leaned down, and his tongue… God, his tongue… The firm pressure of it sent her eyes rolling back, and she arched, opening wider. Shocks of pleasure tore through her, making her buck against his face.
He grasped behind her knees, pushing her legs up and out, splaying her as wide as her body would allow. He licked, tickled, and teased her in ways that left her suspended between orgasm and chaos. First toying her clit between his lips, next thrusting his tongue within her walls, then moving on before she lost herself to the delirious pleasure. His coarse beard only added a new raspy sensation, an added eroticism she hadn’t experienced before.
Phoebe snapped her teeth together, first cursing him to stop then begging him to never stop. She heard him chuckle, before he growled, causing a small vibration that pushed her so close she saw the blessed light of climax. And being an expert thief, a man who knew how to snatch away what she wanted most, he stole the moment, leaving her still suspended.
She turned her head to the side, away from the pounding rain nipping sharply at her sensitized nipples. She covered them with her hands, then gave in and rolled them between her thumb and forefingers. Squeezing until the sting mixed with her lust.
“Are you ready to come, angel?” he asked against her nether lips.
What a ridiculous question. “Yes,” she said on a gasp. She’d been strung so tight she half-feared what might follow.
Jonathon pressed his lips to her clit, shook his head, and that’s all it took to make her shatter. Her scream of ecstasy startled several birds that took flight in the tree above them. But the relief she’d expected afterward wouldn’t come. Her muscles were still drawn, her body trembling, her legs shaking as he eased her feet back down. Choked sobs tore from her throat, and she writhed on the sand. She reached between her thighs, but found her clit too sensitive to touch.
Jonathon crawled away from her, only to return with a condom rolled down his cock. Phoebe reached for him. He wedged his hips between her thighs and braced his hands on each side of her shoulders, blocking out the rain. His tip teased her entrance before he slowly slid inside an inch. The erotic fullness made her gasp and claw at his rain-slickened back. It’d been the completion she’d craved, a connection with him not even the orgasm could fulfill.
His silver gaze burrowed in
to hers, he was digging into her thoughts. She felt the intrusion but didn’t have the power to stop him.
“Who are you, angel?” he asked, the deep rumble of his voice blending seamlessly with the roll of thunder overhead.
“I’m no one.” Because that’d been their unspoken deal once so long ago.
Jonathon’s eyebrows drew together, and he looked almost…sad. “No, Phoebe. In this moment you’re everything. Absolutely everything.”
The kiss that followed tore her open, exposing her in ways she should’ve never allowed. Not the sloppy, wet groping she would’ve expected, but a tender exploration of his mouth. A lover’s lips making love to hers. A kiss asking questions, but denying easy answers.
He took shallow thrusts, building a slow burn that swept through her in waves. She wanted to feel his full girth, the length of him inside of her, but he held back. The cords of his neck strained with the tight set of his jaw. The tempo increased. She couldn’t catch her breath. He paused, reached between them, and rubbed her clit in a tight circle.
The shockwave of the unexpected climax shot to the tips of her fingers and toes. He pulled her up, settling her over his lap, burying deep inside her walls as her ragged, gasping cries filled the air. The rain had eased back to a hard drizzle as she rocked against him, extending the orgasm’s pleasure. Nothing existed save for the sensations tearing her apart and putting her back together over and over.
“Ah, Phoebe, angel, you’re everything,” Jonathon said against her ear. He balled her hair in his hands and kissed her hard before he drew back a breath from her lips. “Everything and more, never doubt that for a moment.”
She pulled back and stared into his heavy-lidded eyes. His meaningless love mutterings still had an effect she didn’t want to dwell on. It was only sex, they weren’t making love.
“How do you want to come?” she asked.
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