Dirty Sexy Games

by Laurelin Paige

  I locked my eyes onto his, and everything tightened in my core. I let out a jagged cry as the wave crashed through me, my hips pumping onto his hand, mindless about our location and the possibility that someone could come upon us at any moment. His own gaze was feral and fiercely triumphant, and if I hadn’t already been panting and breathless, that look alone would have stolen the air from my lungs.

  I wanted to say something, when I could find the words, when I could speak again, but before either of those things happened, Weston fell to his knees and threw one of my legs over his shoulder so quickly I had to grab onto the tree for balance.

  “Oh my God, I can’t,” I said as his tongue lapped at my clit. I was too sensitive. Too raw.

  But I was also wrong. The need was already winding again, faster and tighter than before. He circled my rim with his finger as he sucked greedily at my tender, swollen nub, teasing me. Taunting me. When he licked down my slit and speared me with his tongue, I was lost. I came a second time, gasping and weeping, my orgasm tearing through me violently as he fucked me like this—with his mouth and his fingers and his tongue.

  I was weak and boneless as he lowered my leg from his shoulder back to the ground. He kissed my upper thigh and then my belly, then tugged my dress free from where it was gathered between my back and the tree trunk. When he stood again, his face was flushed, his eyes dark. He pressed in close, but not so close that I could feel the erection that he surely had by now or felt obligated to kiss him.

  He was a gentlemanly player, then. A decent guy. It was nice to learn that about him.

  I dug into my purse and pulled out my room key and handed it to him, even though he had one of his own. “You’re an overachiever. One orgasm would have earned you this.”

  “Maybe I want more than just the key to your room.”

  A warm rush of pleasure shot through me almost like an aftershock from my orgasms, just at the idea of this man trying to win my heart—a heart he already owned.

  I wrapped my fingers in his shirt and held on, suddenly afraid he wasn’t really real, that he’d disappear if I didn’t touch him. “Should I be worried about how good you are at this?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking as a woman he’d just met or as a woman he’d just married.

  With a sigh, he settled his hands on my hips and leaned his forehead on mine. “I used to worry about that sometimes,” he confessed. “But what’s the story of Cinderella and the prince? Didn’t he put the slipper on every woman’s foot in the kingdom before he found the one who fit the shoe?”

  I burst into laughter. “Are you using a children’s fairy tale to explain your expertise at oral sex?”

  He smiled—that full-dimple, little boy mischievous grin. “If you buy it, I am.”

  I laughed again. “I’m not buying it.”

  “Okay, okay. How about this—I’m good at giving this. Giving sex. Giving my body. I’m not so good at giving my time or my thoughts or my energy. My heart. I’ve given my body to a lot of women, but I want to give you more than that. If you’ll take it. But you have to take my body, too—it’s part of the package.”

  I sobered. He’d definitely answered the question for the woman he’d married, and it was exactly what I needed to hear.

  And now I wanted to get back to the game.

  “Take me to my room?” I asked.

  He nodded then slipped his hand into mine and led me on the path toward our bungalow.

  “Oh, by the way, I’m Weston,” he said. “Weston King.”

  Oh yeah. We hadn’t ever introduced ourselves formally.

  “Nice to meet you, Weston. I’m Elizabeth.”

  8

  Weston

  I sat in the wicker chair next to the bed watching her sleep, imagining her reaction when I finally told her about Sebastian. Would she be angry? Would she be thrilled? Would she be as excited and curious about this little person as I was?

  I still worried about telling her, but after our first night on the island, when I’d opened up to her about Donovan and the money he loaned me to start Reach, I felt less concerned about it. She’d accepted that confession with no judgment, and it had been freeing to share that baggage with her.

  I was starting to get excited with the idea of telling her about my son. I needed someone to talk to about this incredible new discovery in my life and she was the only person I wanted to tell.

  But we were playing our game. It was only our second day in Hawaii, the sun was just peeking out over the ocean horizon, and our agenda included nothing but hiking through the tropical island wilderness. We were still practically strangers in this version of us. It wasn’t time to bring in other players yet.

  A knock startled me, even though I was expecting our breakfast order. I threw on last night’s pants and hurried to the door, signing for the meal and taking over the cart in just a few short minutes.

  “Thank God, you ordered breakfast,” Elizabeth said as I wheeled the cart toward the bed. She sat up, stretching, the sheet falling to her waist as she covered her mouth to yawn.

  I freely ogled her bare breasts as I pulled the cart’s leaf out and extended it over her. Her nipples perked from my attention. “Island fruit and yogurt,” I said lifting the cover off her dish.

  “Exactly what I would’ve ordered.” She looked pleased that I knew her tastes, and I resisted the urge to point out that she’d infiltrated my every waking thought, that knowing what she’d want to eat had become as natural to me as knowing what I wanted.

  I grabbed my plate of eggs and bacon and moved around the other side of the bed, hopping back in and scooting up next to her. Before I dug into my food, I set my plate on my lap and turned to her, wrapping my hand around her neck to pull her mouth toward mine. When I kissed her, she tasted like the pineapple she’d already snuck into her mouth, sweet and tangy. I kissed her again. “How did you sleep?”

  “Really well. I think I sleep better with a body next to me. It’s a good thing I met you last night.” She grinned.

  “I had a lot of fun,” I admitted.

  “If I were really a stranger, would I still be here?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  I let go of her neck and sat back against the wall. “You are here, aren’t you?” I said, teasing.

  She took a sip of her coffee then planted her eyes on me. “We’re still playing, right? I like this—this just-meeting-you game. But I really do want to know if it’s plausible that a girl would still be in your bed the next morning.”

  “Sure, I’m up for it. And yes, many women have been here the next morning. Which is usually when I say goodbye. I would not have said goodbye to you.”

  “What would you have done with me? Tried to convince me to stay in this bed all day?” She fluttered her eyelashes as though getting into the character she thought I wanted her to be.

  “Well, yes. Probably. And if you insisted that we climb up to Hanakapi’ai Valley to see the falls instead, I’d be right behind you, but I would try to convince you not to wear any panties for the adventure.”

  “Then this is a legitimate scenario. Right on.”

  “Does that mean you’re planning to go without panties?” God, this woman was perfect.

  She didn’t answer, but she grinned before turning back to her meal. I was glad she did, that she removed her focus from me, because I was feeling things for her at that moment, deep fuzzy feelings that likely showed on my face. And this level of adoration was definitely too soon if we were playing strangers.

  But by the last day of our trip, there wouldn’t be any games left to hide behind. And I could only hope we were still looking at each other with adoration then.

  An hour later, we were on the bus headed to Ke’e Beach, backpacks on our laps stuffed with towels, a change of clothes, and plenty of water and snacks for the hike.

  “We’re taking the shuttle instead of driving,” she explained as she rummaged through her own backpack, “because parking is tremendously hard to find. Even at this tim
e of morning.” She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and handed it to me. SPF 60. “Would you mind?”

  She unbuttoned her denim shirt so that I could apply the lotion generously to her skin. She had a bikini top underneath, but the shirt was long-sleeved and her hair was knotted up high on her head to fit under a wide-brimmed sun hat. I put some sunscreen in my hand and then began working it into her creamy white skin, and it occurred to me she wasn’t really cut out for the tropical sun.

  “Tell me something. Why did you choose a vacation in the tropics? I’m guessing you burn easily.” I knew she burned easily from the one time she’d forgotten sunscreen when we’d ended up at a Labor Day event earlier in the summer. But we were playing that game, the game where we didn’t know things about each other, and I really didn’t know why she’d chosen Hawaii. “Why not a vacation somewhere in Europe?”

  “Well, it’s December, and I knew I’d be tired of the cold when I planned it.” She was facing the window but I could see her skin pinking up at her neck and collarbone as though she was embarrassed.

  That meant there was more to the story. “But there are probably other warm places that don’t require putting your skin at risk.” I moved my hands down her torso, enjoying the goosebumps that sprouted at my touch.

  She shrugged with one shoulder. “I was hoping to meet someone,” she said cautiously. “There are only so many romantics spots. Paris was out of the question.” She turned and looked at me, daring me to ask her why she wouldn’t go to France—I wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. I wasn’t ready to talk about the future, how she was planning to live there. When I didn’t say anything, she went on. “And I figured resorts where I could show a lot of skin were my best bet. You know. In attracting a member of the opposite sex.”

  Her words registered. “This was about seducing me again,” I said with a laugh. “You thought showing more skin, flaunting yourself in a bikini was the way to seduce me?” God, if she’d only known how turned on I’d been even when she was fully covered in those pantsuits.

  She turned her head toward mine, her face fully red now. “Shut up,” she giggled. “You’re breaking character.”

  I kissed her, sweeping my tongue into her mouth with luscious deep strokes. I would’ve told her I loved her, it was on the tip of my tongue, natural the way that it wanted to spill out, but after she’d just admonished me for not playing by the rules, I felt I had to keep it inside. I hoped my kiss said it instead, told her all the ways I wanted her, eased every one of those anxieties about winning my heart.

  It was hers.

  Somehow, after a fair amount of making out, I managed to cover her with enough sunscreen to satisfy her by the time we arrived at the end of the road, quite literally. When we climbed off the bus, I saw that the road didn’t go any farther from this point on the north side of the island, and as Elizabeth had warned, the sides of the road were full of parked cars, even at this time of morning. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.

  “See why we took the bus?” she asked. “Come on. The trail’s this way.” I followed her—as well as the entire crowd from the bus—to the trailhead, swinging my backpack onto my shoulders as I walked. I was looking out at the ocean, at the blue mixing with the pink in the sky, admiring the swirl of colors when she shrieked in front of me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as she jumped into my arms.

  “It’s attacking me!”

  I looked down to where she pointed. There was a brightly colored rooster on the path in front of us, crowing proudly as though guarding the way. I tried, and failed, to swallow a roar of laughter. “It’s a chicken. You’re scared of the chicken?”

  “It’s feral! It’s coming right for me!” She clutched onto me tighter.

  “It’s actually just…standing there. But don’t worry, I’ll save you.” I put a hand out in front of me, as though I meant to ward it off. Then, with her still clutching my side, I made a generous sidestep around it. “That was close,” I teased.

  Without letting go of my arm, she craned her head to watch the bird behind us. “He’s still looking at me.”

  “He has an eye on each side of his head. He’s looking at everything.” I shook my head as I pulled her along the trail. “Brave, fearless woman wants to tackle Dyson Media. Afraid of a little chicken.”

  She pushed me, letting go. We were far enough away from the bird for her to seem less wary, even though she kept looking back after him. “You didn’t see him when I did,” she said defensively. “He attacked me.”

  “Whatever you say.” I kept smiling, following after her cute ass, tight and curvy in her jean shorts. It was an easy target, something I wanted to follow, and I had to remind myself to look out at the stunning views every now and then along the two-mile walk to Hanakapi’ai Beach. We didn’t talk much on this part of the route, walking single file, mostly because there were so many other people headed up with us. So much for getting a chance to talk to her alone.

  Once when we stopped to take a break and drink some water, she seemed to notice my fretting as I watched a group of Boy Scouts pass us by.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, passing the water bottle.

  I took a swallow before I answered. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect there to be so many people up here.”

  “It’s a really popular trail. There will be less people climbing all the way into the falls.”

  So I’d have time to talk to her then. I could wait.

  We made it to the beach in about forty-five minutes. The climb hadn’t been too strenuous as we’d walked along the cliff walls that bordered the ocean. Hanakapi’ai Beach, however, surprisingly didn’t have any sand, though the inlet was breathtaking. Like an undiscovered cove, untouched by modern vehicles.

  “There’s sand in the summer months,” Elizabeth explained. “In the winter the tides come in too far.”

  “You sure did a lot of research. I’m impressed.”

  “I like to learn about the adventures I’m tackling,” she said confidently. I studied her, recognizing the student inside. She did thirst for knowledge, eagerly wanting to know everything about the ventures she meant to tackle. I’d discovered that as I’d taught her business over the last several months. She was a quick study too, and I wondered how much she actually knew about me that I didn’t realize she knew. How many secrets I was holding that she’d already uncovered on her own, simply by spending time with me.

  It didn’t make me feel as uncomfortable as I thought it would to be known the way I suspected she might know me.

  And that did freak me out.

  “Ready to head to the falls?” she asked.

  I wanted to tell her that I would follow her anywhere. But I still wasn’t sure it was true. Wasn’t sure I would follow her to France. Wasn’t sure that I could. So I just said, “Lead the way.”

  Elizabeth had been right—there were fewer people on the trail inland to the falls. It was hard to even call it a trail in some places. The path was so grown over and untrodden that there were several times I wasn’t even sure that we were actually on the designated trail. It was nice to be alone, but the difficulty of the hike made conversation impossible. It took all our concentration to figure out where we were going and worry about not sliding through mud. And even on the parts that were easy, we didn’t talk. We were too busy taking in the sights. Beautiful, strange flora and fauna I’d never seen before surrounded us. Breathtaking scenery that was lush and green and so patently different from the environment in which I lived, it was hard to believe that these plants were from the same planet that I was, let alone the same country.

  It was another two miles from the beach to the falls, and I sensed we were getting near, only to take another break. Elizabeth climbed on top of a big boulder just off the path. When I took off my backpack and set it at my feet and bent down to get the water bottle out of it, I had to look up to meet her eyes. So perfect and beautiful and stunning. She’d taken the denim shirt off and stuffed it into her
backpack, and beads of sweat rolled down her pale décolletage, gathering at her cleavage. I wanted to climb up the rock and lick every drop of sweat off of her, peel off her jean shorts, and find out if she was wearing a bikini bottom. Wanted to take her and claim her in this jungle.

  I stood and handed her the water bottle, just to get closer to her.

  She took it, her fingers brushing mine. “There is another reason I chose Hawaii,” she said.

  “Tell me.”

  “I told you I’d never been. But that’s not entirely true. I came once with my mother when I was thirteen years old. She’d been dating this guy for a while—Victor—and it was getting kind of serious. Like maybe Mom was going to make a go at another marriage. At least, it was serious enough to try to blend her little family with him. He suggested we all go on a trip together to get to know each other, and he took us to Kauai. It was supposed to be a month-long getaway for the summer. He had a condo here and came every year.”

  She handed the water bottle back to me and I took it, too intrigued by her story to take a sip for myself.

  “I was really excited. My father had promised to take me to Hawaii, I don’t know, seventy-billion times, and he never came through. That was my dad, though. Lots of broken promises. So when Victor suggested we go, it felt like maybe he was going to be a brand-new dad. Like, a chance to do it all over. I mean, I was excited about seeing the island too. I was really into the idea of waterfalls, and my mom used to like that Fantasy Island show. We watched it together all the time. I wanted to go to a luau. It was all so exotic and just really in my zone at the time.”

  I’d never been that into the tropical islands myself, but my sister had gone through a phase, so I could picture what she talked about. I took a swig from the bottle. “Go on.”

  “Anyway. We were here one night. And I’d come out looking for my mother wearing just my T-shirt and underwear. I don’t know what exactly happened, but the next day my mother packed us up early in the morning and put us on a flight back to the mainland. She said that Victor had looked at me in a lewd way. She’d seen him staring at me in my underwear, and she’d recognized his lustful look. And she wasn’t going to stand for it. She’d argued with him. I guess. I didn’t hear this, she just told me about it later. He didn’t deny anything. And Mom decided there was no coming back from that. Once a guy looked at your daughter lustfully, he was never going to get over that. She ended their whole relationship.”