Tropical Temptation

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Tropical Temptation Page 13

by Angela R. Sargenti


  Alex groaned and tightened his hold. Samantha felt his fingers digging into her flesh, but his grasp was far from painful, so she continued, her right hand cupping his balls as she opened her throat to receive him, to take him all the way in.

  She heard what almost sounded like a sob and she, encouraged, took his dick from her mouth for just a second and told him she loved him.

  Alex’s hips strained toward her as she resumed, taking him once again into her mouth and tightening the pressure of her lips around his shaft. She increased the speed of her movements and felt Alex do likewise, arching his back to meet her rhythm.

  In answer, Samantha gripped his ass in her left hand while her other hand tensed around the base of his penis. She trailed her tongue over his shaft, then teasingly over the tip of his cock again, and then back into her mouth quickly as she felt him explode in her mouth.

  She drank him in as she felt him sag against the wall, spent and satisfied, and then she rose to her feet again and lay her head against his chest, afraid to kiss him lest he find it distasteful.

  She needn’t have worried, though, because he pulled her head up to kiss her himself.

  “You’re in big trouble now, Samantha, you know that?”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. Now get those clothes off so I can fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

  A little thrill went through her to hear such coarse, direct language and she hurriedly complied, shedding the sundress she wore to the park in one quick movement, before stepping out of her panties.

  There she stood, naked and eagerly awaiting his pleasure. He came near her and, without another word, eased her onto the bed. He turned her over onto her belly and spread her legs.

  Not knowing what to expect, she remained tense for a moment. But then, when she felt one of his fingers delving into her, she calmed down. He knelt behind her, pumping his long, slender thumb into her core, priming her for what was to come later. She relaxed against him, arching her back to receive him, and he fanned out his fingers to lightly stroke her as he continued to move his thumb in and out of her in a steady rhythm.

  She gave in to the sensation, opening herself to him, moving to the same beat as he did, and just when she thought she might climax, he pulled away.

  She groaned, as frustrated as she’d ever been, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

  He held off, though, biding his time quietly as he reached a hand beneath her and stroked her breasts dispassionately. And though he must’ve known he was driving her mad with passion, he continued, waiting ’til she was almost in tears and damn near begging for it before finally entering her from behind, staking his claim once more and making sure she was serious about all this.

  Within moments, she rewarded him with evidence of her climax. She arched into him and cried out in the still night air, abandoning all awareness of her surroundings, throwing her head back and calling out his name as she clawed the pillow beneath her.

  Samantha crumpled underneath him and he eased up and collapsed onto his side, gently coaxing her into his arms to lie nestled up against him.

  Once she settled down and fell asleep, Alex glanced down at her pretty, untroubled face. He knew then he hadn’t loved another woman, or felt even half so close to one, in a very long time. In fact, he realized he’d been faking it for years, had only been going through the motions with every woman he’d ever slept with since Jennie.

  He stroked Samantha’s cheek and she sighed quietly in her sleep. He drew her more fully into his embrace, adoring the way her sweet young body felt against his, amazed by the undeniable love she felt for him. He shut his eyes, swallowing hard.

  He’d also believed Jennie felt this way, but had been rocked to his core to find her in bed with another man.

  A sharp pain shot through his heart as he stole another quick glance at the girl sleeping beside him, wondering if this time it was for real.

  Time would tell, he supposed.

  In the meantime, he decided to at least try matching his feelings to hers and making an effort towards opening up to her and trusting her.

  In the morning, Samantha woke up alone in bed. She knew Alex was probably in the other room, anxiously awaiting their visitors, perhaps even pacing the floor restlessly. She took a quick shower and put on a brand-new tailored halter dress, the perfect shade of navy blue for her complexion, with pearl buttons and a short, clingy skirt.

  She glanced quickly in the full-length mirror, feeling pretty and seductive, her hair long and loose, tossed negligently over one shoulder.

  When Alex caught the first glimpse of her, he stood up in awe, gazing at her with unmistaken approval in his eyes.

  “Good God, Samantha, you look so freaking pretty right now.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Of course I do. Just look at yourself.”

  With that, he turned her to the mirror near the front door and forced her to really examine herself critically, for once.

  “Look at you, Samantha. You’ve got to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. And believe me, it’s damn lucky for you our friends are coming or I think I’d have to take you back into the bedroom, and this time, I’m not so sure I’d know how to stop myself.”

  She glanced critically into the mirror, cocking her head to one side as if considering it all.

  “I don’t know, Alex. Doesn’t it seem sort of...contrived?”

  “Who cares, Samantha? Even if it does, who cares? Do you really think Paris, of all people, will mind?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “How about Marianne?”

  “No. In fact, she’ll probably be overjoyed.”

  “Then who gives a damn?” he asked, pulling her close. “Not me. You wear whatever you feel like wearing and you go on looking just as pretty and sexy as you want to.”

  She grinned at him and he took her in his arms, and together they tumbled onto the couch, Alex smothering her with kisses. Relaxing in his lap, she reached to unbutton his shirt, but just then the doorbell went.

  Getting to her feet, Samantha caught sight of herself again in the mirror. Now she had a natural, tousled look that was hard to fake. Before she could do anything about it, though, Alex had the door open and was giving Marianne a hug.

  “Samantha?” Paris asked and, turning towards their guests, Samantha saw him eyeing her with lustful approval. He cast a sly glance at Alex, who merely grinned in complicity.

  “Look at you,” said Marianne. “You look so different.”

  “Oh,” Samantha mumbled, looking bashful all of a sudden. “I’ve been out in the sun a lot.”

  “My God, you’re enchanting,” Paris stated, holding her by the hands to get a good look at her. And though she was sure he was only flirting with her, she smiled, flattered all the same.

  “Come in and have a seat,” she said. “Can I get you guys anything? I know it’s a long flight.”

  “Let’s walk over and have some have brunch,” Paris agreed. “I’d like to stretch my legs. Besides, we have something to tell you.”

  Soon they were seated on the terrace of their favorite restaurant, among the sweetly-scented plumeria trees. Paris was ordering up a pitcher of Mai Tais while Alex slipped off to buy a newspaper.

  “I hope you’re not preventing Alex from working,” Paris told Samantha, as soon as Alex had gone.

  A little offended, she denied doing any such thing.

  “No, not at all. He’s worked very steadily until last week and he’s nearly done with the book. In fact, he’s even got some ideas for his next one.”

  “Good. Remember, if he doesn’t make any money, then we don’t make any money and I, for one, happen to like money. And what of your book, Samantha? Have you started it yet?”

  She was forced to a
dmit that no, she hadn’t even thought about the subject for quite some time.

  “I can’t decide what to write about,” she lied.

  Just then, Alex was back with his newspaper. He sat back down beside Samantha.

  “You had something to tell us?” he asked his friend.

  Paris and Marianne exchanged glances and then Marianne burst into giggles.

  “We’re getting married,” she told them.

  Samantha grinned and turned to Alex, putting out her palm.

  “Pay up. You owe me ten bucks.”

  Alex laughed.

  “Your friend here bet me you came to announce your engagement.”

  Paris threw back his head and laughed aloud.

  “Damn. I think I’ve been set up.”

  “Sure you have, babe,” Marianne told him, patting his thigh. “And you, Samantha, you have to be my maid of honor.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, glancing at Alex, mischief in her eyes. “Do you think my boss will give me the time off?”

  “Perhaps if we invited him as well,” said Paris. “What do you say, old man? Will you stand up for us?”

  “I guess I could do that.”

  After brunch, Paris sent the girls off shopping in Alex’s car, peeling off several hundred dollars and stuffing the bills into Samantha’s hands.

  “Here, make sure she doesn’t blow the whole wad at the first store she sees,” he laughed, gesturing at Marianne. “And you keep a hundred for yourself.”

  As soon as Samantha parked the car at the mall, Marianne seized her arm.

  “Oh, Samantha, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Alex is wonderful, isn’t he?”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Three nights ago.”

  Marianne sighed.

  “He’s so cute. What was it like?”

  “Oh, Marianne, he’s...oh, God, how can I even explain it? I’ve never felt this way before. He’s so sweet and loving. He really took his time, really shared himself with me. And he’s really very good at it, too.”

  Marianne embraced Samantha.

  “Come on,” she told Samantha. “We need to buy some lingerie for those spoiled men of ours.”

  “I do need to buy some more panties,” Samantha admitted shyly. “Alex sort of...likes to rip them off of me.”

  Marianne grinned delightedly.

  “He does?”

  Samantha nodded and Marianne, quite satisfied with the progress her friend had made so far, persuaded her to join in on the shopping spree.

  Samantha, feeling brave, indulged herself in the luxury of a few special outfits, while Marianne selected a sheer baby doll nightie and a pretty silk chemise, both black.

  “Paris says black is my color,” she confided. She then decided they both needed some pretty new clothes to wear and, out of habit, Samantha drifted toward the racks of commonplace, practical clothes, the sensible kind, suitable for wearing on the ranch.

  Marianne clicked her tongue in disapproval.

  “Just when I began to have hope for you,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, if you want to waste your whole life being Miss Wilkes the Assistant. When I know, if you played your cards right, you could be Mrs. Shannon.”

  “Oh, what are you talking about?”

  “Don’t be such a fool, Samantha. The man obviously adores you.”

  “No one’s said a word about marriage, Marianne.”

  “Good Lord, Samantha, keep dressing in stuff like that and I’m sure he never will.”

  Perhaps she was right, Samantha decided. Her friend had certainly brought Paris to the point in record time. Besides, her halter dress did make her look rather ravishing.

  “Okay,” she told Marianne. “Let’s go for it.”

  Marianne had impeccable taste in clothing, so Samantha had no qualms about putting herself in her friend’s hands. At the end of their shopping spree, Samantha came away with two new bathing suits, a couple of long, flowing dresses, a silk turquoise sarong dress with a pair of little silver sandals, and a creamy white peignoir set.

  The girls went back to Alex’s and entered the condo with all their packages. Exchanging glances, the men got up to relieve them of some of them.

  “I think you’re right about Molokai, Alex,” Paris laughed. “We’d better go at once or these women will drive us to bankruptcy.”

  Alex caught Samantha up in his arms. “Would you like that, sweetheart?”

  “Sure, Alex, but they might get bored.”

  “Nonsense,” Marianne protested. “I’ve been dying to see this ranch of yours. Paris told me all about it.”

  A flurry of activity resulted, as they arranged for the short flight to Molokai. Samantha was secretly thrilled to be able to show the ranch off to Marianne, particularly her own room.

  Chapter 12

  Grandma was standing out on the porch when they arrived and Paris went toward her at once and flung his arms around the old woman, lifting her off her feet.

  “There she is. How’s my girlfriend?” he asked Grandma, then he stole a quick, naughty glance at Marianne. “Don’t get jealous, my love, but I’d like you to meet my favorite lady. Marianne, this is Mrs. Kujiroaka, but you can just call her Mrs. K. like Alex and I do. Mrs. K., allow me to present my fiancée, Marianne Thompson.”

  Marianne stepped forward and was greeted as warmly as she could wish. Grandma led her into the house, followed by Samantha, who left the men to carry in the luggage.

  As she expected, Marianne fell in love with the room as soon as she saw it. Though it wasn’t really to her taste, she knew it was absolutely perfect for Samantha.

  “This is the room Alex fixed up for you?” she asked, impressed that he got it so right.

  “Yes. He had it done before I even got here. He must’ve spent a whole day in Los Angeles picking out wallpaper and drapes and furniture.”

  Marianne grinned, dropping into the nearest comfy chair.

  “I told you you should dump Randy. See how well everything is working out? Way better than being trapped in a sucky marriage with Randy.”

  “Yep. You were right, Marianne. I just wish I had your confidence.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll learn. By the way, what are you going to tell your parents?”

  Shocked, Samantha realized she hadn’t even given it a thought. In fact, she hadn’t called her parents in a couple of weeks.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad’ll kill me when he finds out. He didn’t want me to come over with Alex in the first place.”

  A sudden knock at the door prevented Samantha from pursuing this thought. Paris entered, Albert behind them with their luggage.

  “You two gossiping again? You’d better come out. Mrs. K. is about to serve dinner.”

  With that, Samantha forgot about her parents and took Paris’s arm. He escorted the young ladies into the dining room and tucked them into their places at the table.

  Samantha felt a pair of lips on hers and opened her eyes.

  “’Morning, sweetheart,” said Alex, smiling down at her. “Sleep well?”

  “Yes, thanks. You helped, you know.”

  He perched himself on the edge of the bed.

  “Did I?”

  “Of course. Where’s everyone else?”

  “Paris took Marianne out exploring for the day. Due to the newness of our situation, he thought we might like to be alone.”

  She grinned and snuggled onto Alex’s lap, slipping her arms around his waist. She kissed him several times before he interrupted her.

  “By the way,” he asked, his voice deliberately casual, “what did you tell Marianne about us?”

  “Just that I’m in love w
ith you,” she replied. “Why?”

  Alex fought back a grin.

  “She asked me what my intentions are.”

  Samantha sighed, rolling her eyes.

  “Oh, Alex, I’m sorry. She thinks she’s being helpful.”

  He stroked Samantha’s curls, silent for a while. She lay with her head against his chest, listening quietly to the sound of his heart, but thinking back to her conversation with Marianne, she straightened up and looked him in the eye.

  “She did bring up a good point, though: what’ll I tell my parents?”

  Alex chuckled nervously.

  “Why do you have to tell them anything?”

  The smile faded from her face and her eyes widened in surprise.

  Was it to be a secret?

  “Alex, I can’t lie to them. They’re my parents. Can’t you talk to them and explain things?”

  His expression became guarded, the same as if she brought up his past.

  “What exactly should I tell them, Samantha? That I’m slipping it to their innocent young daughter, just as they knew I would?”

  Samantha slipped from his grasp and climbed to her feet.

  “Just tell them how we feel about each other.”

  “Why can’t you tell them?”

  Samantha’s lip trembled as she imagined what such a conversation would entail.

  “My father will ask me if you love me or not,” she said, trying to sort out her own thoughts.

  She sank to the bed, just out of Alex’s reach. How, oh, how could she tell her father Alex loved her, when he’d never even so much as mentioned the word.

  “He’ll ask me if you’ve ever said you love me,” she went on, her voice quavering. “And you haven’t, Alex. You haven’t.”

  Alex came to her, put a gentle hand on her shoulder and forced her to look up at him.

  “Samantha, what do words matter when we have each other?”

  “Did you even tell your mom about me, Alex? Does she even know I exist?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll tell her when the time’s right.”

  “When’s it going to be right? I mean, I thought we were in a committed relationship now.”

 

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