by Avery Flynn
He scowled and rubbed a palm across his now close-cropped hair. “I don’t like it.”
That made them even. She hadn’t missed the appraising looks the women in the lobby had given him as they checked in. Still, his objection was laughable considering their first night together.
“Why not?” She shrugged one shoulder. “You didn’t mind showing me off that first night at Bisu Manor when I crashed Ft. Worth’s most infamous orgy.”
Her heart beat faster in remembrance of how he’d slipped the strap of her gown down over her shoulder as they’d talked to her targets, the Davies-Smythes. The only thing that had kept her dress up was the silk catching on her diamond-hard nipple. One small tug later though and she was bared to all, from the partygoers fucking in the salon to the valet who handed over the keys to Taz’s Porche.
“This is different,” he snarled.
She snorted. “How?”
He crossed his arms, the action accentuating the way his biceps bulged, and stared at the thatched ceiling as if seeking higher guidance. “We weren’t together then.”
“Are we now?” She meant for the question to come out as hard as ice but couldn’t carry it off. The tremor in her voice betrayed the hurt still twisting inside her.
“You heard Tamara. The divorce is official. I’m a single man.”
“Lucky you to have found yourself at a resort filled with naked people who want to fuck you.” God, she sounded like a harpy, but she couldn’t help herself. The need to fight back, strike first, was too deeply ingrained.
“I don’t want them,” he said. “I want you.”
The declaration hurt more than if he’d cheered in celebration, because she wanted to believe him—needed to believe him. The whole situation with Taz had gutted her. The last time she’d suffered from that gaping-hole-in-her-abdomen feeling was when she was eleven years old, abandoned by her parents and by herself on the plane to St. B’s. Well, she wasn’t that little girl anymore and she sure as shit would do whatever it took to never feel that way again, even—especially—if that meant walking away from Taz after this mission was done.
Steeling her resolve, she turned to face him. “You can’t always get what you want.”
That should have shut him down once and for all, but instead of backing down, the grim line of his mouth curled into a smirk.
“The thing is, kitten.” He popped his pants button and lowered the zipper with a lazy confidence. “You want me too.”
Taz shucked off his pants and pushed his boxer briefs to the floor and her mouth went dry. She fisted her hands. Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms as she fought to keep her gaze from dropping to his cock. The bastard winked at her, no doubt knowing full well how right he was.
“It doesn’t matter.” She forced her hands to relax and made her way toward the bungalow door. “We’re here for Gidget and to take down Sterling Walsh. Clay wasn’t lying; the DEA will raid this place in forty-eight hours, whether we have her by then or not. I’m not fucking this up because you have a hard-on about me being naked in front of strangers. The cocktail party at the pool is already going on. It’s out in the open, so we don’t have to worry about getting dosed with Genie’s Wish, and it’s the perfect opportunity to do a little recon. I want to get a lead about where Walsh might be hiding Gidget on the island before we really get down to business with tapping into the resort’s security feed tonight.”
“We’ll find her.” He grabbed her arm, halting her progress and sending a jolt of attraction skittering across her bare skin. “And after that…we’ll finish this discussion, Kitten.”
The shiver was involuntary. She couldn’t have stopped it any more than she could will her heart to stop beating. “Haven’t we already?”
He pulled her close and dropped his mouth to her ear, not quite touching the sensitive spot but close enough to set a warm wave of desire spreading through her. “Tell me you don’t want me, tell me you don’t love me, and it is.”
She couldn’t. Out of necessity, she’d become a great liar years ago, but no one was that good. Clamping her mouth shut before she said something she’d regret, Bianca turned from him but couldn’t quite manage to pull away. The temptation to pretend that Tamara’s appearance hadn’t popped the honeymoon bubble they’d been living in was too strong. Especially with his hard body so close to hers without a single stitch of clothing between them. He released her arm and trailed his fingers down the side of her rib cage to the small of her waist, making her skin sizzle. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and exhaled a shaky breath.
His knowing laugh tickled her earlobe. “That’s what I thought.”
Still unable to move away from his heat, Bianca closed her eyes. “You’re such an arrogant dick.”
“And you love me for it.” He nipped her ear and then reached past her to open the door.
Together, they walked out of the bungalow headed for the poolside cocktail party below.
Taz
Two hours later the setting sun was putting on a spectacular show, turning the sky pink and orange—and Taz had zilch to show for his recon efforts at the pool. He’d spoken to dozens of the tanned and bared resort guests and a few of the clothed waiters bearing drink trays, slipping in a pointed question or two in between discussions of nudist retreats and the latest stock market numbers. No one had spotted Gidget or Walsh. The two were either in the wind or lying low. His gut said it was the latter. The photo of Gidget had been taken twenty-four hours ago.
In the name of efficiency, he and Bianca had split up, each tackling a different section of the crowd. He’d knocked back a few of the resort’s signature drinks that everyone was downing while he chatted up most of the people on his side of the pool. He was more of a beer or a Scotch guy, but something about the fruity umbrella drink hit the spot and had him thirsty for another as soon as he finished the first.
Scanning the crowd for a hint of Gidget’s red hair while also searching for a waiter with another drink, Taz’s surveillance came to a screeching halt as soon as he spotted Bianca. She stood next to the bar, chatting with two guys obviously mesmerized by her. Not that he could blame them. She was, in a single word, amazing.
One of the men must have made a joke because she threw back her head and laughed, laying her hand on the man’s shoulder to keep her balance on those ridiculously high heels—the only thing she was wearing besides a huge fake diamond wedding ring.
A twin tornado of jealousy and desire slammed into him like a Mack truck. Everyone else gathered around the pool disappeared. All he could see was Bianca.
The urge to touch her was so strong that if they’d been in an enclosed environment, he would have worried he’d been drugged by Genie’s Wish again. That’s what had happened to them at Bisu Manor that night six months ago. The Davies-Smythes had pumped the odorless aerosol Genie’s Wish into the room and drugged every last person at the orgy without them even knowing. Taz and Bianca hadn’t realized until hours of orgasms later.
The memory of that night and the sight of Bianca with her heavy tits and generous curves had him harder than concrete. He wanted to go over to her, but something kept him frozen in place, almost as if he was waiting for permission.
Someone moved in his periphery and he turned to the left. A petite brunette he’d talked to earlier—Jasmin? Yasmin?—had stopped beside him.
“She’s quite beautiful. Everyone is excited when a new couple joins the games, but the both of you would stand out no matter when you arrived,” the brunette said as she handed him another signature cocktail.
“Thank you.” Taz took the drink and shot back half of it in one swallow in an attempt to drown his jealousy. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
“Spoken like a man at love’s mercy.” Unlike everyone else gathered around the pool, she sipped a glass of red wine.
“You don’t approve?” he asked.
“Of love?” Yasmin—that was it—shook her head. “Oh honey, it makes fools of us all.”
He couldn’t argue with that. They were on a mission. She was still pissed off at him. Yet, all he could think about at the moment was how much he wanted to drag his tongue over Bianca’s peaked nipples, taste her slick folds, and slide his cock deep inside her core. He needed it more than breathing, more than living. If that wasn’t being made a fool of, he didn’t know what was.
“You sound like you’re just waiting to give out advice.” Needing a moment to wrangle his wants back into submission, he finished the fruity drink.
Yasmin pressed herself close and whispered in his ear, “Fuck her. Right here. Right now.”
“What?” he asked.
“You heard me,” she said, her tone firm and unrelenting. “Let the rest of them know that she may play with them, but she belongs to you.”
It made perfect sense to the caveman inside him. Bianca wanted him just as much as he wanted her. They belonged together. They both knew it. Why shouldn’t everyone see it? Why shouldn’t everyone know that?
He set the glass down on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed a new one. “I think you’re right.”
“I always am,” she said. “Remember that.”
But Taz barely heard her. He was already halfway across the pool.
Chapter 10
Bianca
Bianca took another sip of the signature cocktail she’d been nursing since she got to the party and scanned the crowd for any sign of Gidget. The guy with the half-hard dick that kept accidentally brushing her hip finished his joke. She let out a loud laugh and then, pretending to lose her balance, she grabbed onto his arm and subtly used the steadying move to push him away.
On the whole, everyone at the party had been very cool, as lifestylers tended to be, but the guy to her left was not the best representative of the clothing-optional, sexually uninhibited crowd. He was the kind of douche canoe that ended up getting handsy at every office happy hour. Total prick material—and she wasn’t talking about his actual cock. Maybe being with Taz had spoiled her, but her standards were a little higher than that.
Mr. Douche Canoe was halfway through a story about the time a waiter threw up in the canapés during a party on his yacht, when his face turned ashen.
“Are you okay?”
He looked over her left shoulder. That’s when every nerve in her body sizzled to life and she knew.
“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
The other man gulped and nodded his head before backing away.
Bianca swallowed her curse. They weren’t going to get anywhere if Taz couldn’t bury his caveman tendencies long enough for her to talk to a few naked men.
Pasting on her most sugary fake smile, she turned to greet her “husband.” She only got about ninety degrees before Taz encircled her waist, whipped her the rest of the way around, dipped her backwards and planted a kiss on her that had the crowd clapping. She could hear the cheers just barely above the blood rushing in her ears and the unmistakable sound of someone moaning in ecstasy.
Oh shit. That was her moaning. That is not what was supposed to be happening—but it was and toe-curlingly, amazingly so.
In a last-ditch effort for sanity, she pushed him back. Breathing hard, her entire body aching for him, she forced him back two paces.
“What are you doing?” she asked, even as her body clamored for more.
His lips curled into a slow, sexy smile. “Making sure everyone here knows that you may play with them, but you belong to me.”
She traced a fingernail over the curve of his biceps, adding just enough pressure to put a temporary white line on his brown skin and silently get her point across in case he missed the ice in her eyes. “Are you really peeing a circle around me? Now? At this particular point in time?”
Not even the brown-colored contacts could shade the wicked glint in his eyes. “Yes.”
Desire—hot, wet and undeniable—unfolded in her belly even as her temper flared. “You don’t own me.”
“I know that,” he said, reaching out and tugging her close so that their bodies melded together, his hand splayed across her lower back, searing her skin. “But what you need to realize is that you own me—body and soul.” He dipped his head lower, delivering a devastating kiss that was little more than a brush of his lips but still shook her to the core. “You have since that first night. Kitten, I’m yours.”
He didn’t kiss her again, but he didn’t move away. In this in-between moment, her brain tried to catch up with what her electrified body already knew. It was her play. Either way she went, she risked the kind of heartache that could knock her sideways and then come back to finish the job. Life was such a bitch that way. But no one had ever won a fight by staying in a crouched defensive position, and she wasn’t about to try to be the first.
“We can’t go back to what it was before,” she said, her mouth so close to his that her lips tingled in anticipation. “I need to know the real you.”
“All you have to do is ask,” he said, bending down whip quick to hook his arm behind her knees and lift her up into his arms. “But don’t even think about doing that now. I have other plans for the next few hours.”
He carried her through the laughing crowd to a cabana on the border between the pool and the beach. A bed draped in fresh off-white Egyptian cotton sheets took up most of the space under the high canopy. The teal voile fabric cascading down from the peak to the ground was see-through enough to give the impression of privacy without actually providing any at all. And with every ocean breeze, the fabric moved in waves, opening up in some areas to give the poolside audience an unobstructed view of what was going on in the cabana.
Excitement and lust careened through her. “They’ll see us.”
Taz lowered her until her feet touched the ground, Bianca facing away from him, exposed to the others. One hand cupping her breast and the other dipping between her legs, he kissed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Exactly.”
Taz
Taz felt it the moment Bianca agreed to his exhibitionist fantasy and relaxed against him—her center soft and slick under his fingertips, her breast full and heavy in his hand. Anticipation threaded through each breath. It was like those moments before the bell started a fight, when it felt like he owned the world. He’d stand in his corner, one gloved hand resting lightly on the top rope, and know he’d already won.
Take the win when you could get it. That’s what his old manager had always said. Every minute with Bianca was a win, even during that first night at Bisu Manor when he’d pushed every boundary she had. The memory of how she’d responded to his public display made his balls tighten.
“You thought I’d forgotten how much you like to put on a show,” he said.
“No more than you like giving one.” It came out full of sass and confidence, but she couldn’t hide how her pulse picked up.
“True.” He brought his face close to hers so they were cheek to cheek and pulled her back tighter against his front. “I love feeling you press against me when your knees get weak.” He slid his fingers back and forth through her slick folds. So soft and wet for him. “I get so fucking hard whenever I hear that soft mewling sound you make, when you’re so close you can’t hold back.” He rolled her hard nipple between two fingers, pulling the peak just enough to make her gasp with pleasure. “But it’s more than that. Do you know why I want to watch their faces as you come all over my fingers?”
She clenched around his fingers. “No.”
“Because they get to watch, but I get to have you.” Pre-cum wet the tip of his dick as he rocked against her plump ass. “You’re mine. Now. Always. Say it.”
“Ta—”
Releasing her nipple, he grabbed her chin and quickly turned her face to the side so he could capture her lips before she could give away his real name. He plunged his tongue inside her sweet mouth. Tasting her like that while he fingers were buried inside her and two dozen people looked on was a lethal bit of heaven.
Breaking the k
iss, he fought to regain his focus. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose himself in her wanton body and he couldn’t do that yet. He had to make her understand this wasn’t just fucking. It never had been between them.
“Kitten,” he said, putting a low warning into his tone as he took her nipple between his fingers. “That’s not the word I want to hear.”
Her nipple stiffened to a diamond point and he twisted it with just the kind of tender roughness she liked. Bianca exhaled a breathy moan that made his cock ache.
“Do you want to come?” he asked. “Tell me.”
She dropped her head back so it rested in the pocket of his shoulder, the long blonde hair of her wig spilling down his chest and teasing his nipple. “Yes.”
“Then say it.” He stilled the two fingers buried deep inside her warm pussy. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she said, her voice quiet and strained with need.
It was more plea than statement, and he had to have more.
Resuming the slow rub of his fingers against the bundle of nerves inside her entrance, he added a twist to his wrist that brought the heel of his hand in contact with her hard clit. Executing a series of slow, deliberate rotations, he increased the pressure until her thighs quaked against his. Her ass cheeks squeezed his cock, nestled between the globes. She was close to breaking apart in his arms, so fucking close.
“Say it louder.”
Only her sweet, unintelligible groans sounded as her hips undulated, urging him to take her where she wanted to go.
“Oh no, Kitten. You know that’s not how this is going to happen.” He released her breast that he’d been cupping and curled his arm around her narrow waist, holding her tight so she couldn’t rock herself to orgasm against his hand. “They need to hear you.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth, as her body tightened. It was her tell.
He froze as she pulsed around his fingers. “I’ll take you there. You know I will. Always.”
