24 Hours Bundle

by Jo Leigh

“Move,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Quit,” he said. “Move. I know you love being a vet, but you can do that lots of places, in a practice that doesn’t ask for your whole life.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I have obligations. My parents gave up everything for our practice. People count on me. I can’t just walk away.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I get that. I understand all about obligations. But loyalties can be misplaced. It’s not unheard of.”

  “Our situations are very different, Alex.”

  “All I’m saying is that work isn’t everything,” he insisted.

  “No? So tell me about all the other rich things in your life. Pottery, perhaps? Maybe adult education classes?” she said, with a bite that surprised her.

  “All right, so I don’t have much of a life, but I’m not obsessive or anything.”

  “Ha.”

  “What about my novel?” he said.

  “What novel?”

  “The one I’m writing.”

  She stopped walking, pulling him up short. “You’re writing a novel?”

  “Yeah. I told you,” he said.

  “Alex, you did no such thing.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No. You’ve never said a word about a novel. For heaven’s sake. You didn’t tell me you were thinking of relocating, you didn’t tell me you’d decided to turn your life upside down hours before we met. Now this. Who are you?”

  “You know me,” he stated.

  “No, clearly I don’t.”

  “But you do. I tell you everything that matters,” he said.

  “Excuse me? Novel? Quitting? Huge work confessions? Those matter, Alex,” Meg declared.

  “Okay, I see your point. But I only get you for a few hours a week, and dammit, I don’t want to waste it on that crap,” he exclaimed.

  Meg pushed her hair back. “Explain that to me please, because I don’t get it at all.”

  “You’re my dessert.”

  “Is that it? I’m a trifle?”

  “God, no. I didn’t mean it that way. Honestly.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Seriously. Come on, Meg. Please, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want apologies, I want to understand. I tell you everything. I thought you told me everything.”

  Alex pulled her closer to him. “I do. But a lot of it is in my head.”

  “Hard for me to offer an opinion that way,” she said.

  “Oh, no. You do. All the time,” he told her.

  “Pardon?”

  “You talk to me. In fact, you’re the only one who’ll tell me the truth. You could, by the way, be a little more tactful,” he said.

  “So, you’re insane, and I’m the voice in your head?”

  “Pretty much,” he agreed.

  Meg looked up at the moon. This was very confusing. And somewhat flattering. But mostly confusing. “Let’s put the voices in your head aside for the moment, and get back to the novel.” She looked at him once more.

  “It’s about Washington,” he said.

  “So far, so good.”

  “It’s a thriller, and it’s about politics,” he continued.

  “Well, that’s great. It’s certainly what you know,” she said.

  “But this is fiction.”

  “Didn’t you used to write fiction?” she asked.

  “That was in school. Hundreds of years ago. Millions,” he said, sighing.

  “When do you write?”

  “Whenever I can. Every spare minute,” he confessed.

  “Which means you don’t hate it. In fact, I believe that means you’re enjoying the writing a lot,” she murmured.

  “It’s hard. It’s frustrating.”

  “Which makes it even better, right?”

  His smile changed into one that made her want to kiss him. “Enough with the writing for now. You know all the important things about me, Meg.”

  “Setting off that grenade at work—so that’s your way out?” she asked.

  “That’s part of it. Not the most important part.”

  “What is?”

  “What matters is that I’m trying to get back to the me that was lost,” he said.

  They walked for a while in silence, Meg thinking about all the changes he was going through, and how hard it must be for him.

  “You think we can use the phone now?” he suddenly asked. “I mean, when we go home?”

  “Give up the computer?” she said.

  “Nobody said we had to give it up. Can’t we do both?”

  “Do you think it’ll be the same?” she wondered.

  “No,” he said. “I think it’ll be better.”

  She didn’t feel quite so sure.

  “You don’t want to talk to me when we get back?” he asked.

  “Sure I do.”

  “Meg?”

  “You do know how scary it was for me to come here. To see you. I love having you on the computer. You’ve been my safety net, my confidant,” she said.

  “Yeah. We’re good when we’re typing, aren’t we?”

  “And we’re good here,” she said, meaning it. “But this is Disneyland for grown-ups. This is tropical breezes and incredible sunsets and naughty touching in front of strangers.”

  “Ah, yeah. The good life,” he joked.

  She laughed. “Stop it. You know what I mean.”

  He nodded. “And I don’t have a clue what my life is going to be like when we get back.”

  “Isn’t it nice, then, to know exactly what we’re going to be doing when we get to the bungalow?”

  He smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

  10

  THE FARTHER THEY GOT FROM the hotel, the more anxious Alex became. Since the moment he’d seen Meg standing at the airport, he’d wanted her. No, that wasn’t true. He’d wanted her before that. They’d had a connection for almost a year, and not just the one over the computer. Somehow, not meeting her in person had freed something in him, allowed him to be more honest with Meg than with anyone else in his life.

  That she was so beautiful was a bonus, but it wasn’t the reason. Meg had pulled him in subtly, with wise words, candid conversation and a wry perspective that made him think and laugh. A total surprise, given his luck with women.

  Not that he hadn’t had his fair share, but even when he’d thought he’d been in love, it had been a reasoned decision. He wasn’t in the least reasonable when he was near Meg, and his ability to make decisions was somewhere at the caveman level.

  “It’s so beautiful out here,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. She’d taken off her shoes as they’d veered from the path to walk in the sand.

  His arm rested on the curve of her hip. When he felt the urge, he drew her tighter, because it felt so good to have her body so close. But then he relaxed again. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Look.”

  He followed her gaze up to the sky and was surprised to see how huge the moon was. Just shy of full, it was brilliant in the darkness. He could see the shadows and crevices, the facelike craters that looked quite different when he was at his apartment in Alexandria. “It seems so near.”

  “Magic,” she whispered.

  “Definitely.”

  They kept walking, and he pondered taking off his shoes so he could join her in enjoying the warm sand between his toes, but he didn’t want to stop. His entire body felt sensitized to every brush of the warm breeze. Every step felt sure and strong, and as his hand followed the curve from her waist to her hip, he found it hard to grasp that this was real.

  Maybe it was the fact that he was in a new time zone, or that he’d had a few drinks, but he doubted it. Meg was right, it was magic, but it was magic because of her.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re here, but you’re not. What’s going on?”

  He slowed
his steps, then turned toward her. “It feels like this is a dream.”

  She nodded, but didn’t speak. Her eyes reflected the moonlight, as did the hint of her white teeth between slightly parted lips.

  “I don’t want to get all, you know…” he said.

  “What?”

  “Mushy.” He pushed out the word.

  “Heaven forbid,” she teased.

  “Hey. You want to hear this?” he asked.

  “Sorry. I’ll be quiet. Go on.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, now that my rhythm is all shot to hell.”

  “Don’t make me pinch you,” she threatened with a giggle.

  “Fine, fine. Jeez. I can’t believe you’re really here. Okay? And that you’re so damn incredible.”

  She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. “Oh, my.”

  “I know so much about you, yet there’s so much I don’t know. Today’s been a revelation,” he said.

  “You’re not disappointed?”

  He shook his head. “You’re beyond my wildest expectations.”

  “I see,” she said. Then she turned back to face the ocean, and they continued walking.

  A stab of hurt hit him low and hard, but he didn’t say anything. He figured she must be absorbing his words, or maybe she was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t let himself think it was because she didn’t feel something. The way she’d kissed him, laughed with him, talked to him…No, he just had to be patient. No reason to regret telling her the truth, no matter what happened.

  The sound of waves lapping at the shore grew louder as they walked in silence. Her grip on his hand firmed the closer they got to the water. Then Meg released him and stepped forward until her toes made impressions in the wet sand. She looked back at him, smiled but still, she didn’t speak.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the wind played with her hair, shifting it on her shoulders, on her bare upper back. His gaze moved down her slim silhouette, her dress conforming so well to her body.

  She took careful, slow steps into the ocean. He couldn’t look anywhere but where the water touched her flesh. As she walked, it rose past her ankles to her calves, until it rippled around her knees.

  His respiration had increased as she entered the surf, as if he was touching her. A movement caught his eye, and he looked up to where her dress ended and her bare back began.

  She’d brought her right hand around to the top of the zipper, and as he watched, she slowly, achingly, lowered the tab until the material parted, giving him a stunning view of the length of her spine. A glimpse of her shoulder blade made him gasp.

  Once more she turned to glance back at him. Once more she smiled and said nothing.

  When she faced the sea again, she let go of the zipper. Her dress gaped open, and his hand moved down to his own zipper. Rather, to what was beneath the zipper, as his arousal became so intense it was on the edge of pain.

  Unblinking, he stared, completely unable to move.

  Meg threw her head back as if she were about to laugh at the moon. Then she shook her lush behind, spread her arms, and the dress, the beautiful dress, slipped down her body until it floated around her knees.

  Alex tried to look up, but for a long moment, all he could do was focus on the way the garment bobbed and pooled. It was like some strange sea creature, sparkling, undulating, touching her like a lover.

  His gaze inched up her thighs, to the curve of her ass. And then he saw them. White panties.

  He groaned, doubling over at the sight of this woman and what she’d done for him. It wasn’t an actual fetish, but it was a definite preference that he’d mentioned once. Okay, twice. And she’d remembered.

  Or maybe she always wore white panties.

  He preferred the former idea. That she’d have thought about him, about their talks. He flashed on other things he’d said to her—things that perhaps she’d remembered, that she’d want to do. But he kept staring at her panties, even as she stepped out of her dress and walked farther into the deep.

  The moment the water hit the tops of her thighs changed everything. It wasn’t that he couldn’t breathe, because he’d forgotten how when the dress had dropped. And it wasn’t that he wanted her so intensely he could hardly stand it.

  He needed her.

  Needed to touch her, to please her, to give her everything she’d ever wanted. He needed to make her laugh, and to help her stop her insane work schedule. He needed the connection between them in every way possible. Online, on the phone, but mostly in the flesh. Preferably in bed, but he’d take what he could get.

  This was not part of the agenda. In fact, it wasn’t even in the realm of the possible.

  What was real was that he had to get into the water.

  He stripped his shirt off while he toed off his shoes. His pants were next, and he hissed as he cleared the zipper. He’d never undressed faster. He was glad she was still facing away when he headed out to meet her, because he was bob-bob-bobbing along.

  The temperature of the water took care of that problem. Jesus. He’d expected the sea to feel warmer at night, and it was, well, not cold, but it wasn’t warm. It actually wasn’t bad once he got up to his thighs.

  She was wet to her waist when she turned to face him. And she was laughing. “Finally.”

  “Huh?” he asked smoothly.

  “It took you long enough to get the hint.”

  “Sorry. When the dress came off all the blood rushed from my brain.”

  She swished her hands in the water, making her breasts, which were stunning, jiggle. “Funny thing. There was only one acceptable excuse and that was it.”

  “Phew.”

  “It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” she said, sighing.

  “Yeah.”

  “I meant the ocean. The island,” she added.

  “I meant you,” he said quietly.

  She stopped swishing and moved closer to him. So close, her breasts touched his chest. Her hips touched his. He couldn’t take it one more second, and he grasped hold of her arms and pulled her to his mouth.

  She tasted of the sea, and the heat of her warmed him all the way through.

  She clutched his ribs and kissed him back. Kissed him like she meant it. Tongues and lips and nipping teeth, and nothing held back. What a fool he’d been, hurt because she hadn’t said the words. This proof was in the pudding.

  When she pulled away, he moaned, and again she laughed, but he was catching on. “Your dress is probably floating to Tahiti, you know”

  “Such a great loss,” she said dryly, then paused for a moment. “I want…”

  He swallowed. “What?”

  “Everything.”

  He opened his mouth, but no words came as she brought her hands up to her breasts. She brushed her hard nipples with her palms and teased them with her fingertips.

  Alex released his breath as his gaze moved from her chest to her face. Her eyes, caught in moonlight, were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Except for her tiny little grin, so full of mischief and promise.

  He sucked in another breath, tasting the ocean. He’d rather taste her.

  All it took was one step and she was in his arms, and his mouth was on hers, and there was nothing tentative or wary. She opened to him and he took advantage, plunging his tongue inside the wet heat. Her breasts pressed against his chest. As they moved, the water between them caused a friction that made him groan. He could feel her nipples, hard, beading, and he wished he had some of those new lotions that facilitated sex in the water.

  The thought vanished as her tongue touched his. Goddamn, she tasted good. He pulled back, but only so he could change the angle, and her small whimper did something to his insides.

  She moved her pelvis against him, with her lips open and her breath mingling with his own, the rubbing of her breasts making him insane. He couldn’t wait another minute.

  He kissed her again, hard, thrusting, letting her fee
l his intentions. She responded with a shift of her hips and her fingers tightening on his neck.

  He pulled back, just enough. “Bed.”

  She nodded, swallowing thickly. “Bed.”

  He tugged her hands from behind his neck, holding on to her left one as he led her out of the water. He glanced back and lost his footing when he saw that the white panties had become transparent.

  “Whoa, you okay?”

  “Just hormonally challenged,” he said as he straightened. “I’ll be fine in six days.”

  She laughed, then continued to torment him by taking great big steps, which made things move in wonderful ways.

  He turned away, not nearly coordinated enough to watch and walk at the same time. When they got to his clothes, he gathered them up quickly, then took a look along the shoreline to see if her dress had washed up. Nothing. When he turned back, Meg was taking off her white panties.

  11

  MEG WAS BREATHLESS WHEN THEY got to the bungalow, and it wasn’t just because they’d practically run back. All her senses were on full tactical alert, ready for action and raring to go. Just looking at Alex made her want to throw herself on the bed and yell, “Take me, big boy, take me hard.”

  She laughed, and he laughed, too, although she was pretty damn sure she hadn’t said that last bit aloud.

  The moment didn’t last. Before she could even catch her breath he had her up against the wall with his body flush against her own. One searing look and then a bruising kiss…

  She opened to him, wanting him to take it all. Knowing he would. He rubbed his erection up against her, and it burned across her cold skin.

  Her hands went to his back and she raked her nails over his shoulder blades. He growled low in his throat. That sound alone made her stomach clench with desire.

  This was new, all new. Never before, not with any guy, had she felt this desperation. It truly felt as though if she didn’t have him she would die.

  He pulled away from her. She whimpered at the loss, but then he grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the bathroom.

  “Shower,” he said.

  She nodded. He dumped his clothes on the floor, turned on the light and the water, bending to check the temperature.

  Meg took the opportunity to check out his body. Of course, she looked at his ass first, because, well, there it was. She’d been right when she’d seen him in his jeans. He didn’t have one of those flat butts. His was round and nice, and she couldn’t resist touching.