by Amanda Bretz
Remembering how the blindfold had heightened her other senses, she closed her eyes and let the sensations take over. He pumped into her wet pussy. Her cleft squeezed around the width of his rigid erection as he slid in and out of her. The crown of his cock stroked her innermost sensitive spot while the ridge of his pelvic bone rocked against her clit. His grip on her wrists tightened and he buried his head in the hollow of her collarbone. Corina felt Zach’s body begin to tense. She knew that he was about to come and that knowledge turned her on even more. She let out a moan as her body shuddered around a long climax.
Chapter Five
Corina was putting the finishing touches on the béarnaise sauce when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock on the stove. Zach was right on time. She called out for him to come inside and opened the oven door to put the steaks under the broiler.
“Hi. Oh, I see you plan on getting me tipsy this evening?” Corina eyed the bottle of red wine in his hand.
“Maybe I brought it in hopes that I could get tipsy and maybe you’d even take advantage of my inebriated state.” He set the bottle on the countertop and leaned down to give her a hello kiss. “It smells mouth-watering in here.”
“Thanks. I’m making filets with béarnaise sauce, baked potatoes and steamed spinach.” She bent over and peeked through the glass window in the oven. The cuts of beef had already begun sizzling to perfection.
“Meat and potatoes. You really know a way to a man’s heart.” He swatted her on the ass.
“You know you better stop that now or we’ll never get through dinner. Would you mind opening that?” Corina asked, pointing at the bottle of cabernet.
She pulled her wine opener from a drawer, biting her lip and watching the muscles in Zach’s forearm bunch as he removed the cork from the bottle. She shook her head to clear the sensual thoughts from her mind. It wouldn’t do to burn the steaks—even though she’d gotten them on sale, they’d still been a bit pricey. She reached into the oven, quickly flipped them then returned the pieces of red meat under the scorching heat to finish cooking.
Zach poured the wine into goblets while Corina grabbed the plates, silverware and napkins from their various locations in her kitchen. She quickly set the table and took a couple of sips of her wine before getting the steaks from the oven and making their plates.
“Mmm. I could really get used to meals like this.” Zach took a generous bite of the tender beef.
“Well, I could get used to cooking you meals like this.” Corina quickly took a swallow of wine, even though she knew consumption of the burgundy liquid was partially responsible for her bold words.
Cooking had always been something she’d enjoyed and she could definitely see herself spoiling Zach with rich meals and decadent desserts in the future. She was embarrassed that she had said as much to Zach, but he didn’t seem bothered by her admission. They wrapped up dinner and cleaned up the minimal mess in the kitchen before heading to Corina’s living room. It was a downright cold spring evening and when he spied her fireplace and stack of logs, he offered to build a fire to keep them warm.
“I’m impressed with your skill. You must’ve been a Boy Scout,” Corina said after Zach quickly started a blaze.
He stoked the burning logs with a cast-iron poker and added one smaller piece of wood for good measure. Soon the fire was roaring and spread warmth, along with an appealing orange glow, around the interior of her living room. Corina inhaled the slightly charred scent of the burning wood and took a seat on her couch with her legs tucked beneath her.
“We have a front row seat to the blaze.” Zach draped his arm around her shoulders.
“I only hope tomorrow’s a bit warmer. I don’t want it to wreak havoc on our plans.” Corina shivered just thinking about their date at the botanical gardens the next day. The outdoor attraction was a wonderful place to visit, but only when the finicky St. Louis weather cooperated.
As if somehow sensing the warmth from the fire, Priscilla wobbled into the living room from her pet bed located near the laundry room. She hoisted her girth onto the slightly raised platform and lounged on the bricked hearth.
“That’s her favorite spot when it’s cold out. I think she’s reached doggie nirvana.” Corina chuckled when her dog let out a sigh of pure contentment.
She was tempted to release the same sort of pleasurable sound. As she watched the orange and blue flames lick at the edge of the fireplace, Corina let herself get lost in a happy daydream. She could see her and Zach making evenings like this a habit. It certainly felt easy. Natural, even. It seemed like he belonged here, next to her on the couch, his fingers absently stroking her shoulder. Could this be what she had to look forward to? Her making dinner for the two of them, then they’d spend the remainder of their evenings talking, sipping wine indoors when it was cold, on her patio or in the sunroom when it was warm. They’d spend their Saturday mornings at the farmer’s markets and Sundays would be for brunch with friends.
It sounded like pure heaven. And it was what she wanted more than anything. Her only hope was that it was what Zach wanted too.
* * * *
“This is one of my favorite places in all of St. Louis.” Corina and Zach strolled hand-in-hand around the well-tended English woodland garden.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of the rich, floral scent surrounding her. The immaculate grounds and stunning flora and fauna were just two of the reasons why Corina loved the Missouri Botanical Garden.
As the two walked out from under the canopy of trees and onto a concrete path that led to a large dome structure, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The massive greenhouse, with its exotic species of plants and humid, rainforest-like climate, offered a romantic atmosphere. Zach stopped walking and looked at Corina.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked and pointed his head in the direction of the window-covered dome.
“Yes, let’s.”
Almost immediately upon entering, Corina could feel her naturally curly hair start to frizz in response to the intense humidity inside the greenhouse. They walked the interior for a while then settled at one of the waterfalls, which had large rocks perfect for seating nestled behind it. The rushing sound of liquid as it cascaded behind their heads was just the right amount of white noise to drown out the rest of the people milling about inside the dome.
“I’ve bored you with my life story as an Army brat. You know what I do for a living. So tell me, what do you hope to do with your in-home studio?”
“Well, basically, just what I have been. I feel like there’s so many conflicting images out there, you know? Women are bombarded with ads and images of beautiful, thin bodies every day. There’s nothing wrong with being skinny, if that’s the type of body you have naturally. I’m sure there are women who are naturally slim, but when a woman feels like she’s not good enough or struggles to feel sexy in her own skin because she doesn’t look like an airbrushed model in a magazine?” Corina paused and shook her head. “That’s just…wrong,” she said and sliced her hand in the air for emphasis. “Anyway, I hope to change that, at least on a small scale. I hope that by taking boudoir shots I can show women that sexy has absolutely nothing to do with the size of your waist or a number on the scale.”
“Sounds very empowering. It also seems like you have your future well planned out. So,” he said then paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “Do you see yourself sharing that future with someone?”
At his question, Corina looked up into Zach’s black eyes—they seemed to be gleaming with hope. She resisted the urge to shiver when he used his thumb to stroke the tender flesh on her inner wrist. Even when he was being sweet and proper, his touch was electrifying.
What exactly was Zach asking her? Was this his version of the dreaded ‘where do you see this going?’ relationship question that everyone wants to know, but no one wants to ask? Had he gotten lost in the same type of hopeful daydream about their future together just as she had last night? She could only hope
he had and that he felt the same way she did. Even though they had only met each other a couple of weeks ago, Corina already knew she’d fallen for him. And because she understood how important it was for Zach to hear her say those words, she told him so.
“I think I’m looking at my future right now,” she said without breaking his intense gaze.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Tropical Heat
Amanda Bretz
Excerpt
Chapter One
I squinted out of the airplane window. The way the sun glinted off the chrome propeller nearly blinded me. As the 747 taxied down the runway, the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign came on and I expelled a long, cleansing breath. I would have three days in Jamaica. Three days with my camera and the sun, sand and sea. Three days to unwind and forget about my life in Seattle. Three days of just me and my art.
* * * *
Surrounded by the cobalt ocean and the lush green hills, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. Jamaica was all that I’d thought it would be—and more. I closed my eyes and revelled in the sensations. The catamaran I was on swung and swayed to a rhythm that only it knew.
The sun burned on the breathtaking horizon. Thanks to the powerful early-morning light, the sea glittered clear to the bottom of the cerulean depths. I turned my head when briefly the calypso music stopped and the captain announced in his lilting island accent that we’d almost reached our destination.
Ocho Rios. We were almost there. As an artist I had spent the last ten years dreaming about visiting here, all of Jamaica, actually. Seeing the popular tourist destination of Ocho Rios had always been one of my deepest desires. The town was home to so much beauty.
The boat was en route to Dunn’s River Falls, and I couldn’t wait to experience the rush of the water, the absolute freedom of being one with the land as I explored the natural wonder. When I stepped off the boat dock and touched down in the soft sand, a hundred possible paintings flashed in my mind. The landscape that was set before me became my canvas. The beach at sunset with hues of tangerine, scarlet, turquoise and lavender. The beach at dawn when the sun kissed the shore good morning. The beach on a rainy day, with the turbulent churning of a navy blue sea against an angry, dark sky.
When I stepped a little closer to the falls, my heart pounded. The rushing water was so loud, I could barely hear my own thoughts. I stopped to stare at the unique rock formation. Nestled in the cliff just off the beach were the falls. The water cascaded down through large boulders, which resembled a jagged staircase.
Taking a step forward reverently, somewhat timidly, I dipped my head under the spray that emptied out into the sea and pulled back instantly. Despite the tropical weather, the spring-fed water coming from the falls was frigid. I paused to look around, wondering if everyone else on the beach was as shocked by the chilly waters as I was. Groups of American tourists shrieked and splashed around on the beach, while running back and forth between the waters of the deep blue Caribbean Sea and the crisp clear water from the falls.
The scene made me smile. I brought my camera’s viewfinder to my eye and began to snap pictures of the idyllic landscape.
I nearly gasped in surprise when I saw a shirtless bronzed Adonis jogging towards me. Even though it was an invasion of his privacy, I used the powerful zoom feature on my camera to get a better shot. I zoomed in further, closing in on his washboard abs. I swallowed hard. I’d heard of a six-pack, but the sexy hunk was sporting an eight-pack.
When he got closer, I twisted the lens and readjusted the zoom to focus in on his face. I clicked off a half-dozen shots in rapid succession as he ran towards me. His features were so stunning I knew he had to be some type of celebrity in Jamaica on vacation. Those eyes—they were the colour of warm caramel, and as he approached me, I could have sworn he was looking deeply into my own. God, he was gorgeous. I snapped one more picture of him as he jogged past me and it was all I could do not to follow him with my camera.
That would be stalkerish. I instead turned my attention back to what I’d come to Ocho Rios for. The falls. I crouched down to a squatting position to get some shots from a different perspective. Soon I was lost in the pattern of the rocks and the flow of the water.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” a deep voice beside me said.
I whipped my head so fast to the right that the beads on my braided head hit my neck with a stinging sensation. I winced in pain, but met the speaker’s gaze anyway. I was stunned when I saw that the stranger in front of me was my sexy jogger. He had come back. I tried hard not to stare at the way sweat trickled down his hard abs and collected in the waistband of his shorts. I was staring so intently that I had to remind myself that he’d asked me a question about the falls.
“Yes, if there’s a real stairway to heaven, it has to look like this,” I insisted as I snapped another picture.
“I think Jamaica is a small piece of heaven on earth,” he said in a soft, humble tone.
“I think you’re right,” I agreed. Taking pictures of nature was pointless while I had the attention of Mr Adonis. I snapped the lens cap of my camera in place. “Are you one of the tour guides?” I asked. I knew he was a local from his accent. I assumed he worked for one of the area resorts.
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but I’m guessing from the braids in your hair and the way you’ve been looking at the falls you’re here on vacation.”
I blushed. “Is it that obvious?” I asked while I self-consciously patted my corn-rowed head. The braids had seemed like a good idea the day before. It was so hot in Jamaica compared to the Pacific Northwest.
“I think they look sexy,” he said, as he reached out and rubbed one between his fingers. My stomach did a flip-flop at his touch.
“I’m Marcus,” the hunk said and extended his gorgeous right hand. I had always had a habit of noticing a man’s hands. I extended mine also and his large, warm hand enveloped my own. “I’m not a tour guide, but I am a local, born and raised in Jamaica. I know as much about the falls as any of the paid guides, maybe more.”
“My name’s Rayne, it’s my mother’s maiden name and I’ve always hated it. It’s a long story,” I said and rolled my eyes. I stopped chattering long enough to use the opportunity to look at Marcus up close, without the interference of my viewfinder. I took in his rich brown skin, caramel-coloured eyes and muscular body. Nice. Very nice.
“Are you going up the falls? That will never make it if you are,” he said and looked pointedly at my camera.
“No, I hadn’t planned on it. This is my first, and only, day here. It’s the last stop on this group tour of Jamaica I am doing. I haven’t had nearly enough time to see all the sights. I realise now I would’ve been better off planning the whole trip myself. Live and learn, I guess,” I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. “This is the whole reason I came to Jamaica. I’ve always wanted to come to the falls, I’m a painter.” I stopped and looked down at the digital camera in my hand and added, “And a photographer.”
Marcus flashed a brilliant smile. “Wow. So there’s a possibility that I could be famous?” He must have seen the confusion all over my face because he added, “After you paint a portrait of me that will surely bring in millions of dollars.”
Either he was arrogant or he somehow knew about all those pictures I’d snapped of him while he had been jogging. Either way, I decided my best move was to play it ultra cool. I took an extraordinary amount of time removing my lens cap and focusing my camera before I answered him.
“And what makes you think that you’re a worthy subject anyway?” I asked as my shutter closed around the lush green foliage and rippling water.
“Touché,” Marcus said with a chuckle.
I paused from the task of snapping pictures to get another look at him. My eyes raked over the rippling biceps, the prominent cheek-bones and full, sensuous lips. He exuded a touch of a bad-boy air. I decided it had to be the mouth. No man could be a good guy with a mouth like that. I lic
ked my lips and wondered what kind of magic Marcus’ mouth was capable of. I shook my head to try to get my mind out of the gutter.
“So, if you’re not a tour guide what do you do for a living?” I asked him.
“I work in the tourism industry here.”
I looked at him as if to say, Aren’t you going to tell me more? When he didn’t, I decided it didn’t really matter. Not yet, anyway.
“Maybe I can show you around,” he said as he pointed his head in the direction of Dunn’s Falls. “The falls are beautiful, but I know a few other places where you may want to get some pictures.”
Oh, if only he knew what kind of pictures I wanted to take. I could think of about a thousand, and all of them involved a naked Marcus.
“Okay, that would be amazing. What are you doing later on tonight?” I asked with a flirtatious smile.
“Nothing,” he said with a shrug.
“You want to grab some dinner with me? I’m staying at a resort here on the beach.”
“The big one, Sandals?” he asked.
“Mmhmm, how did you guess?”
“Just a gut feeling,” he said with a chuckle. He paused momentarily and pierced me through with irises the colour of fine, aged whisky. “So, Rayne, are all American women as straight-forward as you are?” Marcus asked with a smile.
“I don’t think so,” I said around a laugh. “Does it bother you?”
“No, it’s just a little different, but it’s refreshing,” he added. “I’m going to finish my jog. I’ll see you later tonight, how about at seven?”
