10 Days in Paradise (Tropical Nights)

by Haymore, J.

  Speaking through his teeth, he said, “You don’t like pidgin? You want me to speak like a haole? I can do that too. I said, do you think I bring all the beautiful mainland tourists out here to fuck them?”

  My first response was a warm flush that rushed through me. He’d called me beautiful.

  My second response was awareness that I’d pissed him off. For some reason, his narrowed eyes, the tension in his muscles, the sheer power radiating from him didn’t scare me or make me angry or defensive. It thrilled me. Made me hotter for him.

  Holding my ground, I asked, “Do you?”

  He stilled, then closed his eyes for a long moment. “No.”

  I inched closer to him until my nipples brushed his chest and his pelvis pressed against my lower stomach. I could feel the ridge of his erection, and I shuddered.

  “What about local girls?” I asked, but my voice emerged as a hoarse whisper rather than the challenge I’d meant it to be.

  He gripped my wrists, pinning them to my sides. “I’ve never brought a woman here. Any woman. Ever.”

  Blood sped through my veins. My nipples pushed against his pecs. His fingers curled around the tender flesh of my wrists. No man had ever held me this hard.

  I liked it.

  The muscles in my body clenched involuntarily, and I let out a little moan. The way he pressed to me, the way his hands held my wrists—God, I could feel an orgasm rising already.

  He dropped my wrists instantly, misinterpreting my moan as one of pain. Drawing away, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

  I gazed at him straight-on. “I want to see you naked. Please.”

  He stared for a second, then nodded. Keeping his eyes locked on me, he kicked his flip-flops off, then slid his shorts over his hips.

  I tugged the shorts the rest of the way down, kneeling as I reached his ankles. He stepped out of them.

  I looked up at his cock. It was darker than his tanned skin, hard yet so smooth. Like the rock we stood on, but pulsing warm and silky. Human. I tentatively reached up to stroke him, and a wave of anticipation vibrated through my body.

  Gently pushing my hand away, he knelt to face me. “Your turn.” That dark look passed over his face again, but it wasn’t anger this time. He shook out one of the towels, then gestured to it. “Lie back.”

  He moved the second towel so I could use it as a pillow. As soon as I lay down, he unbuttoned my shorts, then pulled them and my panties down my legs and over my feet in one smooth movement.

  I gazed at Kanoe as his hand traced the outside of one of my breasts, and he brought his mouth down over my nipple. Jolts of heat rocketed through my body, centering between my legs, opening a void, an ache begging to be filled.

  This wasn’t just going to be skinny-dipping. Kanoe knelt over me, gentle yet strong, like he was worshiping my body. Every one of my nerves was alert, on fire, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

  As he held my nipple gently between his teeth, his hand cupped between my legs, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly over my clit.

  I squirmed against the electric tide of sensation, but his forearm covered my pelvis, holding me down.

  Soft lips traced a path up my neck to my ear. “I have to taste you.”

  I tilted my mouth toward his, but he shifted back to his knees, and suddenly he wasn’t touching me at all. He lowered himself into the pool with a gentle splash, then reached over and tugged my hips.

  “Move closer to the edge of the rock.”

  Oh. He meant that kind of tasting.

  “I uh…uh…” In a split second, my electrically charged muscles solidified into ice. A cold sweat broke out across my chest.

  I’d had sex with a couple of guys in college, then Mike, but my sex life was about as adventurous as my real life. Nobody had ever gone down on me before.

  I sat up and stared at Kanoe. He gazed at me intently, darkly, as if I were the only source of fresh water in a vast ocean, as if he would die if he didn’t have a drink. Seawater rippled around his narrow hips.

  I thought about distracting him. I could jump into the pool beside him, wrap my arms around him, and I could pretend he’d never mentioned it. Or I could do what he said.

  Real life would come knocking on my door soon enough. I was already trying things I’d never thought of doing before.

  Why not this?

  The decision made, my heart pounding out of control, I scooted toward him and sat on the edge of the rock, trailing my toes in the water.

  He ran his fingertips down the sides of my body, making me shiver despite the warmth. “Lie back.”

  I did as I was told. My legs bent over the edge of the rock, calves halfway submerged in the pool. Sliding his hands down my legs, he nudged my knees apart and sank lower into the water.

  I lay frozen, the rock beneath me hard, yet warm and smooth, solid against my butt. His mouth tickled my skin. My muscles tensed.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “Nani… You’re so hot, Celeste. I can’t wait to have my mouth on you. I can’t wait to taste you.”

  I felt vulnerable like this, utterly exposed, but his reverent touch soothed me, and the look of hunger in his eyes gave me the confidence to let go of the tension.

  There were so many stars, the sky was ablaze with them. His hands stroked the outsides of my thighs as he kissed the insides of my legs, getting closer and closer…

  One of his hands moved to my sex. Spreading my folds, he ran his thumb over my clit. I let out a harsh breath—I was so sensitive there. Fire licked through my body.

  He circled the moist, slick tissue with commanding, confident strokes until I moaned and arched my back, the anticipation more than I could bear.

  “Please…”

  As if that one word was what he’d been waiting for, he slid a finger inside me and covered my clit with his mouth. I swallowed a moan, but couldn’t control the quiver that shook my limbs.

  His finger stroked along my inner walls, and at the same time, he flicked my bud with his tongue. My lower body rose off the rock, and his free hand moved to cup my butt, pulling me closer.

  My breath came in short gasps, the stars blurred, the surf collided against the rocks, and something smoldered within me, burning and swelling. I couldn’t think; I could only succumb to the sensations.

  He removed his finger, and I whimpered, feeling naked without it. But then he pushed two fingers into me, touching a place no one had ever touched before, and my whole body became a tight bundle of nerves with focal points at the tips of his fingers and tongue.

  All my muscles clenched, and I pressed my body over his fingers, deeper into his mouth. I cried out. He held on and sucked harder, pulling me closer, thrusting his fingers. Floodgates of heat and moisture opened, and tremors shot through my belly, across my arms, down my legs.

  Then I emerged, a shaking, boneless mass. He stood and slipped his arms around my waist, tugging me up, holding me, kissing my breasts, neck and jaw. With one hand, he dug through his shorts pocket. I held him, stroking his back.

  “I need you. I need to be inside you.” His words came out as a husky growl at my throat. “God, my cock is so hard for you, Celeste. I can’t wait.”

  He found the condom package and tore it open. He let me go for a moment, then he was with me again, tugging me into the water, crushing me to his chest, his eyes narrow with desire. Cool water lapped around my hips, and I tightened my legs around his thighs. In an abrupt motion, with one guiding hand between our legs and the other on the small of my back, he pushed me down over the hard length of his cock.

  I gasped as he filled me, all hot flesh and seawater. Pushing my back against the towel-covered rock, he claimed my mouth. His kiss was ferocious, possessive, and on his tongue I tasted myself, smooth and musky.

  He sank deep into me, and I rode him, clenching my muscles to bring him deeper inside, pushing and pulling with my hands and body. The seawater buoyed us, splashing our waists, rushing against our point of joining, stroking the swollen tissue
between my legs. He crashed into me over and over, kissing my jawline, my neck, and nipping at the tops of my breasts.

  I tossed my head back as the second orgasm hurtled through me, forcing me under a bubbling, pulsating swirl of pleasure. As I came up for air, he closed his eyes and groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of my butt cheeks, crushing me tighter, closer to him. Moving one hand to tangle in my hair, he gave a harsh cry and contracted inside me, his shuddering body smashed against mine, and I felt that purely masculine helplessness of a man who had lost himself.

  Kanoe

  I opened my eyes. Celeste was wrapped around me, her face tucked into my neck. Slick rocks passed under my feet as the water inched up to our shoulders and we drifted toward the middle of the pool.

  “Mmmm…” she murmured, the sound resonating against my skin.

  That was one way to put it. A flood of conflicting emotions kept me from speaking, so I just held on to her, my face buried in her hair, allowing the gentle ebb and flow of the water to tug us across the pool.

  I should push her away right now, grab my clothes, and run for my fucking life. But I couldn’t. My arms were frozen around her, and the more I tried to move them, the more insistently they locked in place. My cock was still firmly embedded inside her with no apparent intention of leaving.

  Something in me had snapped when I felt her come for the first time, as her body contracted over my fingers. I’d wanted only to hold on to her, to possess her so strongly, she’d never think of being with anyone else. Driven by this insanity, I’d taken her hard enough to hurt, but she’d responded stroke for stroke, equaling my intensity and answering with a fierce strength of her own.

  Still, I couldn’t move. The bottom shifted underneath my feet as a thin layer of ocean whitewater came over the rocks and pushed us toward the back of the pool.

  How many days left? I calculated slowly, hampered by a suddenly sluggish mental capacity. Seven days. I had her for seven more days, then I would be gone, and my life could sway back onto course.

  Seven short days.

  I wanted more. I wanted her on her knees, beneath me, on top, from behind, standing, straddling my face, sucking my cock. I wanted her to cry out my name, to beg like she had tonight, and I wanted to see that look on her face when she came, sweaty and breathless. I wanted to see that again and again.

  Then I would let her go.

  Day Four

  Celeste

  I came into awareness slowly, my body cocooned in soft cotton sheets and cradled by Kanoe’s warm flesh. The hotel room’s air conditioner hummed, and pale morning light sifted through the cracks in the curtains. Kanoe’s chest cloaked my back, his growing erection pressed against my bottom.

  Heat flared deep between my legs. I shifted a bit just to experience the pleasure of his hardness rubbing against my skin.

  A hand lightly passed over my waist and meandered to my breast. He circled my nipple lazily, then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger until it tightened into a taut bud, sending a tingling sensation through my body. I let my eyes drift shut.

  His hand continued its languorous exploration, stroking down my stomach to the curls between my thighs. With the pace of pouring honey, two fingers inched their way downward.

  My cell phone rang.

  To ensure only the right people could call, I’d changed my cell number the morning I’d left L.A. A few select people at work and my mother had the new number. Managers and other associates at LBG had called several times with work-related issues. My mother, I knew, was busy and would call only in an emergency.

  “Better get that,” I murmured, and slipped out from under the sheets.

  After last night’s incredible sex, I shouldn’t care, but I suddenly felt self-conscious of my nakedness. The hotel-provided robe wasn’t anywhere in sight, so I grabbed the thick, flower-print bedspread and draped it over my shoulders before kneeling and finding the phone in my bag. Without looking at the screen, I answered.

  “Celeste McMillan.”

  “Celeste?”

  Oh no. Damn it.

  Grimacing, I glanced at Kanoe, who had turned to his side and was watching, his head propped on his hand. The sheet tangled around his waist, and I saw the suggestive bulge beneath the cotton.

  I groaned inwardly. I shouldn’t have answered the phone. Why hadn’t I at least looked at the caller ID?

  “Mike?” I said in a low voice. It probably wasn’t a good idea for Kanoe to hear this conversation. I couldn’t go out in the hall naked, so I headed for the bathroom instead. I tore my gaze away from Kanoe. The bedspread slipped from my shoulder, and I clutched it awkwardly, trying to pull it back up while hanging on to the phone.

  Mike had emailed me a few times a day since I’d left. I hadn’t responded to any of his emails, but maybe I should have.

  “How did you get this number?” I asked.

  “I need to talk to you. When you weren’t answering my emails—well, I worried about you, C.”

  “This is really not a good time.” The tone of my voice wasn’t one I’d used in the past couple of days while I’d been with Kanoe. This was my L.A. voice—professional but also flat and emotionless. This was the voice I was most familiar with, so I wondered why it felt so freeing to be with Kanoe, who brought out a new, fun-loving but foreign side of me.

  A deep, dramatic exhalation came from the other end of the line. “Why didn’t you tell me you changed your number? You’re treating me like I’m a stalker or something.”

  Honestly, it was amazing that it had taken him four days to find me. My time with Mike had revealed that he was ridiculously clingy, so I should’ve expected him to start calling as soon as I boarded the plane. “I just need a little time to myself.”

  “So, where are you? Your mom said you’re in Hawaii, but which island?”

  My mother had spilled the beans and given him my number. I couldn’t wrap my head around that one right now. “Why should that matter, Mike?”

  “Because I want to be with you.”

  Seriously? I stifled a groan. He was still trying. It had been over a month since I’d broken up with him, and we hadn’t been going out long to begin with.

  “That would be a bad idea.”

  He sighed into the phone. “Well, I’ll have to be there with you in spirit, because it turns out I can’t come anyway. The Leary presentation is on Friday. But I wish I could, C. Maybe you could cut the trip short and come home, finish your vacation here. You could stay at my place.”

  “I’ll be home in a week. We can talk then. Please don’t call me again.”

  I tapped the hang up button way harder than necessary.

  I’d tried to be nice to Mike—professional, at least—since we’d broken up, because alienating him would make things difficult in the office, which would interfere with my goals. Keeping our relationship amicable was of the utmost importance. But how long could this go on? I was such an idiot for letting him talk me into having an office romance. I’d resisted at first, but I’d found his intelligence appealing, and he’d been incredibly persistent. As he was now.

  In the mirror, I saw Kanoe coming up behind me, and the temperature in the bathroom suddenly skyrocketed. I set my phone on the marble countertop as his hands covered my shoulders, prying the fabric from my fingers. The bedspread puddled on the floor.

  “Boyfriend?” His voice sounded curious but otherwise calm. I watched him in the mirror. His eyes were lowered, betraying nothing.

  His hands reached around and cupped my breasts from behind. His fingers smoothed over my nipples, and they peaked eagerly.

  “No.” I swallowed hard. “Just a colleague. Another associate from my firm.”

  His lips tickled my earlobe. “I think you’re lying,” he whispered.

  The cell rang. The display bore the caller’s identity in bold black lettering: Michael Jennings.

  I suppressed the urge to throw it against the wall.

  Kanoe held me close, his erection pr
essing against my lower back, his lips at my ear, his fingers playing over my breasts. “Pick it up.”

  “No.”

  He pinched my nipples. “Do it.”

  “No!” I gasped.

  “Talk to him,” he growled, and squeezed again, grinding his rigid cock into my backside.

  Shit. With shaking fingers, not knowing exactly what on earth I was doing or why I was doing this, I dragged my fingertip over the answer button and raised the phone to my ear.

  “Good girl.” Kanoe’s voice rumbled in one ear.

  “Celeste? C, are you there?” Mike’s voice droned in the other.

  Kanoe’s hands moved downward from my breasts.

  “I asked you not to call,” I said, praying I sounded normal.

  One hand grasped the inside of my thigh, pulling my leg up and gently setting my foot on the marble at the edge of the bathtub.

  “I’ve missed you. I really want to talk to you, C. Just hear your lovely voice.”

  That tone was part of why I had broken up with him. Mike’s constant needy whine made my skin crawl.

  “You know,” he continued, “earlier I was chatting with a client, and it hit me. Today is our four-month anniversary.”

  Kanoe’s fingertips brushed over the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh.

  Placing a palm flat against the countertop for support, I tried to focus on what Mike had said. “Anniversary?” What the hell?

  Kanoe’s fingers tickled over my stomach, then down, sliding between my legs. Mike said something I didn’t understand. Before I had a chance to think—to react—two fingers glided over my folds and pressed inside me.

  I gasped. My legs buckled, but a firm arm around my waist held me up.

  “Not now,” I ground out, not knowing exactly who I was talking to.

  Concern rose in Mike’s voice. “Are you okay?”

  “Does he do this to you?” Kanoe whispered. His fingers brushed my clit, then thrust into me again. “Does he make you this wet?”

  “No…” I groaned. “I mean, I’m fine…I…”