by KB Winters
“I—I don’t know. But I’m sure for someone of your stature, it wouldn’t be that hard,” I said, straining to keep my haughty tone and not back down off my now seemingly ridiculous claim.
“My stature?” He leaned in close—too close—and rested a hand against the wall behind me. “And what, exactly, do you think my stature is?”
Shit, shit, shit.
He was too close and I couldn’t think straight. Not with his vibrant green eyes sparkling at me like that. Not when my nose was filled with his scent. He smelled like sand and sun, a subtle hint of sweat mixed with the remnants of cologne that had faded slightly, but not enough, over the course of the day.
Oh, fuck…now I was imagining him naked, stepping out of the shower and applying it to his bare skin.
“Ellie?” he purred and I forced my eyes back to his.
His lips were mere centimeters away from mine and I was having trouble breathing.
He placed his other hand on the wall beside me, pinning me against it, in between his arms.
“Come to dinner with me,” he said.
All sensible answers seemed to float away as he leaned in even closer. I could barely focus on his eyes because his face was too close, so I dropped my gaze to his lips—but that was probably the wrong decision. He had amazing lips. They looked yummy and I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss a complete stranger. This complete stranger.
“Dixie’s…waiting for me,” I finally managed to say. I flicked my eyes back up to his, but he didn’t back up.
“She’ll be fine. Come have dinner with me.”
My heart was thumping so hard, I was actually beginning to fear permanent internal damage. His question hung in the sliver of air between us, as formidable as a choice of life or death. It seemed impossible to choose.
Seconds ticked by and he never broke away, as if he could wait for my answer all night.
“Okay…” I whispered.
He snapped back and grabbed my arm, and we started back down the hallway. I hadn’t explored the entire resort, but in my limited experience, I felt fairly confident he was leading me away from the restaurants and bars.
I glanced over at him, but something told me not to ask.
A shiver ricocheted through my body as it hit me that I could have just agreed to a date with an ax murderer.
***
Minutes later, after following along a labyrinth of hallways and corridors, we arrived at a set of double doors. Dylan produced a key card from his pocket, swiped it in the reader and a green flash went off as the door unlocked. He gave me a long look before pushing the doors open. My nervousness rendered me silent, but some unidentifiable reasoning drew me to him, and I followed him inside.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whispered as we stepped inside the room. I’d seen pictures of it when I’d researched the resort back when I started getting calls about my sweepstakes prize. It was the largest suite that was comprised of five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a full kitchen, more TV’s than the student lounge at Georgetown, and a private infinity pool, screened off for complete privacy with lush, tropical plants. It rented for thirty grand a night…I’d nearly choked on my Triscuit when I’d originally seen the price tag. I’d wondered who on earth had the obscene bank account that could make such a rate feasible.
I cast a sidelong glance at Dylan and apparently had my answer.
Who is this man?
“You like?” he asked, leading my further into the room, which I would refer to as a mini-palace going forward.
I nodded and tried to reel back in my excitement. No need to geek out over a hotel room, especially when there were more pressing matters at hand—for example, the reasons why I was in the mini-palace, with a man I barely knew.
“This doesn’t look like dinner, though,” I said. I tore my eyes away from the room and locked them back on Dylan.
His eyes flashed to mine and a wave of heat scorched through my body. If just a look could have that effect on me, then I was about to be in real trouble. I needed to get out. Now.
I cast one last glance around the room, momentarily lamenting the fact that I couldn’t go on a full tour, before I turned back towards the door and started to pull it open.
Dylan stepped close again and firmly shut the door before I could open it. “Wait.”
“No, you lied to me. You brought me here under false pretenses. What did you think would happen? We would get to your room, and I would just rip off my clothes and throw myself on your bed?”
He smiled. “I’m not going to lie, that would be pretty hot, but no.”
I scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m out of here.”
Before I could pull the door open, there was a soft knock on the opposite side. I jumped back, startled by the sound.
“Ah, that would be dinner,” Dylan said, looking completely un-fazed—and possibly even more heart-stopping than before. He opened the door and ushered in a man dressed in a uniform, pushing a cart loaded with covered plates, into the room.
“In the dining room, please,” Dylan directed. The man nodded and pushed past us and out of the room.
I crossed my arms and glared up at him. “What is going on here? How did you know I would agree to come with you?”
“Call it intuition. Now, come on, the food is getting cold.”
To borrow a phrase from Val, a British friend from back at school—I was gobsmacked.
Dylan led the way, and I followed along. I had no idea what he was playing at, but I didn’t want to leave until I could figure it out.
Chapter Five — Ellie
“I hope you’re hungry,” Dylan said as we entered the dining room. Which, for the record, was bigger than the kitchen, dining room, and living room of my whole apartment back home.
Dylan pulled out a chair and indicated for me to sit. Truthfully, my nerves were twisting and turning and making me feel hot and slightly ill. The server unveiled the first plate and set it down in front of me without so much as the clinking of the dishes against each other. At the look of the gorgeous food, my appetite seemed to tear through the anxiety riddled pit that was my stomach and suddenly, I realized I was starving. The plate was festooned with fresh fruit and other herbs used as colorful garnish, and the chicken and vegetables were coated in delicious-smelling seasonings.
I looked up and caught Dylan staring at me and realized—with horror—that I probably looked like a kid entering Disneyland for the first time. I seriously needed to dial back the Alice in Wonderland vibe I was sending out. Dylan was cool and confident, at ease in all situations as it appeared. I silently vowed to myself that I’d match his level of detachment for the rest of the evening.
I silently followed his lead and only started eating once he did, resisting the urge to shout out blessings to heaven at the first bite. The food was unlike anything I’d ever eaten before. By the third bite, I was pretty sure that I was ruined for all other food. Nothing would ever taste this good again.
“What do you think?” he asked somewhere near the middle of the meal.
“It’s good,” I said, feigning indifference.
“I think you’ll like what I have planned for dessert, then,” he said, melting into another of his disarming smiles.
God help me…he had to stop doing that!
At my racing heart, I was forced back to reality and wondered what in the hell I was doing in this man’s hotel suite. I studied Dylan from across the table and couldn’t figure out why he had to be such a puzzle. If he wanted companionship, surely he had a million friends, or at least some form of entourage that he could conjure up for things like vacations and parties. And, besides a few thinly veiled innuendos and our close encounter in the hallway, he hadn’t made any real moves on me. So, I pondered, what is he really after?
I took another bite and forced myself to relax. Chicken was simple. Chicken didn’t ask questions.
Sooner than I would have liked, my plate was empty, and I noticed that Dylan had just set down his fork. The ser
ver entered the room, as though he’d been alerted with a bell. He cleared the dishes and then looked to Dylan. “Would you like me to serve dessert?”
Dylan looked at me for a second, before answering. “Not right now. Go ahead and leave it in the kitchen, though. We might be back for it later.”
“Of course, sir.”
Dylan stood and I followed him like some kind of mirror exercise from my high school drama classes. I didn’t know what else to do, so I followed his lead—on autopilot. He came to my side and flashed me his vagina-exploding smile as he wrapped his arm around me, as if we’d been together for years. My breath caught in my lungs at his touch. His hand started to make a slow tour of my back, starting between my shoulder blades, and then sliding all the way down my spine, slowly and tortuously progressing lower and lower.
“Have a most pleasant evening,” the server said as the last of the dishes were loaded onto the cart he’d brought in.
Dylan ran his hand down, cupping my ass with his hand as he nodded in reply. “We will.”
He left me, before I could make up my mind to let myself melt or to slap him, and went to offer the man a tip. It was so seamless that I almost missed it. Very classy. My skin was on fire under my thin dress and I was starting to eye the pool outside the glass walls, wondering if a quick dip would be enough to put out the flames.
One more look at Dylan told me that it would take more than the pool to stop the slow burn inside of me.
“Alone at last,” he said after returning from seeing the server out. “It’s a beautiful night. Shall we step outside?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer—which was probably for the best, since I’d apparently been rendered mute somewhere in the middle of dinner—and opened the huge glass doors before ushering me outside, his arm wrapped around me with his fingertips pressing into my hip as we walked together out onto the patio.
I turned my head to look up at him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should probably step out from under his arm and regain some personal space, but I couldn’t bear to move away. It felt too good to be nestled against his side, letting the evening breeze wash over us.
“Dylan, why did you ask me here tonight?” I asked, finally finding my voice.
“I find you captivating, Ellie.”
No one had ever called me anything even remotely close to captivating before. I’d been lucky to get a “you look nice” from past boyfriends. The unique compliment warmed me all the way through, and this time, it had nothing to do with the way he looked or how his fingertips felt on my skin.
I stared down at the pool, letting everything sink in as I studied the moon’s reflection bouncing off the still water.
“Time for a swim?” he asked.
I looked up and shook my head. “I don’t have a suit with me. They’re all back in my hotel room.”
“Luckily, this is my pool, and you don’t need one,” he said, smiling wide and revealing his perfect, movie star teeth. But there was something else there, too, hiding behind his perfect face and his deep eyes. I wanted to stop and analyze further, but he interrupted my thoughts by pulling on my arms and holding them up over my head. “Hold still, just like that,” he instructed.
My legs quivered and my heart raced double-time as I watched him. He slid his hands down my extended arms, over the curves of my body, until he reached my hips. He held them for a moment, his eyes never leaving mine, and then the fabric of my dress was slowly lifting up, over my legs, up my hips, exposing my panties and then my stomach and bra.
“Dylan,” I protested, but I kept my arms up in the air as he finished, pulling the dress off and over my head. He stepped back and admired me, letting his eyes rake over every inch of me. I felt more exposed, more vulnerable, than I had in my entire life—but I didn’t stop him or try to cover up, because mixed with the slight panic in the back of my mind was a feeling of pure exhilaration and desire. As I stood and let him explore me with his eyes, the feelings grew stronger and took over my insecurities.
“Damn, Ellie, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his voice low and thick. “Your skin is so soft. Like…like porcelain.”
I felt my face flush and almost started to argue. Goodness knew my mind kept a running tally of all my flaws and imperfections. Especially in regards to my less-than-runway-ready body.
But, as our eyes met again, I realized that he’d really meant it. He’d actually thought I was gorgeous. A quick glance down—it couldn’t be helped—showed the outline of a bulge forming in his pants and I was once again validated in my newfound sex appeal.
“Take off the rest,” he said. “I want to watch you.”
I bit my lip, fighting a new surge of anxiety. I locked my eyes on him and reached around for the clasps of my bra, unhooking them slowly. I’d never done anything like this before. I’d never stripped or been told what to do by a man. It was all so foreign, and yet intoxicating in a way I’d never experienced before. I knew my panties would be soaking wet by the time I stripped them off. I silently thanked God I’d put my best lace panties on.
The anticipation of what Dylan would do to me, naked and exposed, spurred me on and after a few moments, I was standing before him, completely naked.
He groaned with appreciation, and only then did he close the gap between us. He took my face in his hands and brought his lips down to mine. As soon as they touched, I thought my heart was going to rocket right out of my chest. I melted into his slow, seductive kiss as his lips caressed mine and let his tongue explore me without any hesitation. When we parted, I was breathless and knew my breasts were heaving with my frantic attempt to get myself under control.
He noticed and cupped them in his hands. He ran his thumbs along my nipples, and I gasped and bit back a moan at the intense pleasure that rippled through me at the simple touch. He caressed me and my breathing only got more sporadic as I started tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine, wildly curious to know what his smooth, firm chest would feel like pressed up against my naked body. Dylan grabbed at my hands, stopping my assault of his shirt, and took a step back, out of my reach.
What the fuck? Is this a game to him?
My panic returned, wondering if this was all some kind of dare or bet. Was I the victim of some social experiment or something? See how far the pathetic girl from the bar will let you get in one night.
Ugh. What am I doing here? I looked around for my dress.
“What are you doing?” Dylan asked as I snatched it from the ground and covered myself with it.
“Leaving. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m not interested.”
He laughed, which only infuriated me more, and stepped closer to me again. He slid one fingertip down between my breast, my stomach and then slowly between my thighs, finding my embarrassingly wet pussy. I almost came undone when he lifted his finger to his mouth and rolled his tongue around it like an ice cream cone. “I think you are…interested.”
Fuck. Shit.
Before I could formulate a reply, he was nibbling at my ear and I lost all track of what I’d been about to tirade against. He pulled away again, but this time, he stripped off his shirt and pants to reveal his naked body.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
Dylan Luck was pure perfection. I’d seen his chest and tattoos before, at the beach, but the entire package was that, times a billion on the yummy-scale. Every muscle was chiseled and defined, his skin was tan and seemed to not have an imperfection in sight, and his cock…oh my…it was long and thick and standing at full attention as I watched him.
“Commando? Really?” I said with a smirk as soon as I could breathe again.
He laughed and wrapped me in his arms. “It’s hotter than Hades on this island.”
I couldn’t argue—I couldn’t even speak because his skin was all over me and made it impossible to think—or breathe—or reason.
He pulled me backwards and without warning, plunged over the side
, into the pool. I shrieked as I came up for air, my entire body shocked by the cool water. But then, he was there and I clung to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, desperately aware of his huge cock as I bobbed up and down against him in the water. He pushed us back until I was up against the edge of the pool, his arms cushioning my back from the marble tiles. Once we were stationary, he kissed me again, harder and firmer than before. If before on the pool deck had been the warm-up, it was clear he was ready for the main event.
And despite my previous misgivings…my body told me that I was too.
His tongue tangled with mine and I matched his intensity as he ravaged me. My thighs wrapped tightly around his slim hips and it took every ounce of self control that I possessed to not let myself slip onto him and let him have me right there against the wall of the pool. He seemed to sense my need and started stroking between my thighs as his lips explored and teased my sensitive nipples.
“Ohmygod…” His fingers slid between my lips and stroked against my clit. I’d never been touched like this under water, and the mix of the sensations was driving me out of my mind.
In one fluid move, he pulled us both out of the water and onto the patio that surrounded it. The marble tile felt cool against my back as he slid his fingers in and out of me. My body was beginning to tense and twitch and I knew I was getting close to release. He seemed to read my body like a book and inserted another finger, adding to the pressure, at just the right moment.
I moaned out, only slightly aware of the fact that we were outside, and while no one could see us—that didn’t mean they couldn’t hear us.
He thrust harder and I relaxed, letting all worry leave me as I melted into the pleasure he was giving with each stroke.
“Dylan,” I whispered before biting my lip. He sped up and my last ounce of resistance seeped out as I came. His fingers slowed, but stayed inside of me as my body rolled over each new wave. He left me long enough to grab a condom from his pants pocket and I clawed at him while he kneeled before me, sliding it over himself, before lowering back to me.
“Tell me you want me,” he said, his voice nearly a growl as he hovered over me.
