by Lori Borrill
“I, uh—ohh…” She lifted her hips and slid the sheet out from between them, leaving nothing between his cock and her hot silky bottom.
“Starting with this,” she said, pointing to the celery stick he’d forgotten he’d been holding. “We’ve got this beautiful plate of lush fruit and vegetables and you reach for a celery stick?” She took the vegetable from his hand and held it in front of him. “Something tells me this is symbolic of the life you’ve been leading.”
“What’s wrong with celery?” he asked, his voice lurching when she wiggled her butt over his growing erection.
She tossed the green stick over her shoulder and picked a plump red strawberry from the plate. “This is life.” Leaning close, she brought the berry to his mouth and fed him a bite. “This has flavor and color. It’s sweet, a bit tangy.” She bit her lip and gave him that languid Hush magazine smile that almost had him choking on the small bite.
He had to admit, the berry was much more delicious, though so would the celery have been if she’d fed it to him like this.
“You need to learn how to play, Jack,” she whispered. Then she dragged the bitten end of the berry across his lips and moved in for a taste. “Mmm, see? You can’t share sweetness like that with a dull stick of celery.”
She closed her mouth over his, the essence of fruit mingling between them as they twirled tongues and savored kisses. Though they’d been in bed for hours, his body still responded as if they’d only gotten started. And while he didn’t mind all the hours his job required, it did leave him suspecting he’d gone far too long without sex.
How else could he explain his insatiable appetite for this woman he shouldn’t even be friends with, much less taking to bed?
The gentle shift of her body against his cock swept away his contemplation and pulled his thoughts back to what mattered right now—namely him inside her for however long it took to answer the lust in his system.
Breaking the kiss, she brought the half-eaten strawberry back to his mouth. “How about another taste?”
“I’d love one.” But instead of taking a bite, he took the berry from her hand and smoothed the soft juicy end over her nipple.
RACHEL’S BREATH HITCHED when the cold berry made contact with her hot sensitive flesh. Hours ago, if someone had suggested Marc Strauss was this playful in bed, she would have laughed herself to tears. Sure, she’d had the hots for him from the start, had ached and fantasized about being exactly in this spot. But even in her fantasies, she’d accepted that he would probably be as business-driven between the sheets as he was in his office. This newfound revelation was a delight, and eagerly welcomed on a day when she’d so needed a lift to her spirits.
He slid his hand up her back and coaxed her breast to his mouth, circling his tongue around the spot he’d just sweetened with fruit.
“Mmm, you’re right,” he said. “Strawberries are delicious.”
She chuckled, as well as she could through the sensation streaking through her, while he alternately traced the berry over her nipples with his tongue then licked the juice from her skin. It was euphoric, surges of pleasure, bliss and contentment twirling through her and leaving her with a feeling of well-being she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
He rocked his hips and thrust his shaft against her waist, and she shifted so the hard flesh stroked against her sex. The man had a glorious body, firm runner’s thighs and a toned chest and abs that were rigid. From the start, she’d marveled over how he looked in a suit, but today she got the extra bonus of enjoying the body underneath.
His gentle moans filled her ears like songs of praise while his tender touch worked her into another lusty storm. As she smoothed her clit along his shaft, her pulse skipped every time his hard cock twitched against her. She wanted it inside her again, wanted to look into those intense blue-gray eyes and make a connection that would last beyond this one night. She had three more weeks at this resort. How luxurious would it be to spend them all between the sheets like this?
He kissed the spot between her breasts then tossed the spent strawberry back on the platter. She assumed so they could move on to other things, but as he set the plate aside, he plucked a larger berry from the center of the plate.
He raised a brow and held it between them. “This one’s been dipped in chocolate.”
She liked the intrigue in those eyes. “It’s for dessert.”
“How convenient, since I’m ready to move on to the final course.”
With the big plump strawberry pinched between his fingers, he nudged her off his lap and onto her back. Spreading her legs wide, he settled between her thighs. The fire in his eyes excited her, trickling more sensation to her throbbing sex, and when he touched the cold berry between her legs, a shiver ran from her fingers to her toes.
“Mmm.” He smiled lazily and began circling the chocolate tip around her clit in a move that first aroused then tormented. And though she loved to watch as he stimulated her, the sumptuous feel of the cool pressure against wet heat had her sinking back against the mattress.
She sank against the fluffy down coverlet they’d kicked to the foot of the bed, surrounding herself in soft luxury while he stroked her into another frenzy. He dragged the berry around her clit, down lower then back again, whipping up sparks of electricity that arched her back and curled her toes. As much as she wanted him inside her, she couldn’t deny the luscious feel his tantalizing moves produced. It filled the air with a fruity scent and teased her body into a cyclone of lust and desire.
“Hmm,” he said. “The chocolate seems to be melting.” He tossed the berry on the plate. “Don’t want to make a mess.” Kicking the platter to the side, he tucked his hands under her butt and dove in, moaning with delight as he touched his tongue to her sweet, sticky sex.
Air trapped in her lungs, the sharp pulses gripped her chest as that talented tongue went to work again, pushing her dangerously near another hard and satisfying release.
Bursts of heat overtook her as he licked and sucked, his fingers caressing her flesh, his moans pushing her to the edge. And while the feeling was glorious, she was overcome with the need to share this release together, face-to-face, where she could study his eyes and make a connection that would take this intimate meeting beyond this one night.
Despite everything they’d shared this evening, she couldn’t shake her fear over what she’d get tomorrow. Her spirit couldn’t take any day-after regrets or Dear Jane speeches. She’d meant what she’d said earlier. She was finally beginning to like him. And now that she’d gotten a glimpse of the passionate side of this thorny man, she felt the need to make sure nothing sent them back to the stiff tension that had been hanging between them.
She tugged against his shoulders. “Please, come inside me.”
He grunted and kept on going, but she squirmed and insisted, “No. I need you.”
Obliging, he kissed a slow, torturous path across her thigh and down her leg as he reached for a condom from the side table. And before her body could calm from his succulent assault, he sheathed himself and settled over her.
She cupped his face and drew his gaze to hers, seeing nothing but raw passion and burning desire. It put a smile on her face as he lowered his mouth to hers and pressed a kiss to her lips. And when he filled her in one long steady stroke, an urgent need came over her, the sheer perfection snatching her breath and kindling that fear that wouldn’t stop grating.
She wasn’t sure where it came from. Maybe the joy of spending time with him coupled with her long history of disappointments. She’d grown accustomed to good things going bad, and though she hadn’t intended to speak her mind, she heard herself say, “Tell me this won’t be just tonight.”
The instant she uttered the words she wished them back. Someday she’d learn to put a filter between her thoughts and her mouth. But this push and pull she felt around Marc had a habit of bringing out the best and worst in her. From the start, she’d adored yet hated him, ached for him then wanted him gone
. And now that they’d found this peaceful union, she didn’t want to lose it.
He smiled and kept stroking. “Can we talk about this later?”
She grabbed his hips and upped the speed, her body nearing climax despite the growing seed of anger that he hadn’t given the answer she’d sought. “No. I need to know now.”
He rose up on his palms and looked into her eyes. “What are you looking for, Rachel?”
She spread her hands over his chest and felt his heart. “Just friendship.”
It seemed to ease the confusion in his eyes, and he slowly resumed his steady stroke. “Of course, you have my friendship.” Bending down, he kissed her deeply. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
“Conflicted. That’s what worries me.”
He chuckled against her lips. “Maybe, but I’m not a jerk.”
A smile broached her face. “I could argue that.” Then she rocked in rhythm with him, slipping her hands back down to his hips and letting the sensation take over. “But I really like this. I don’t want the old prickly Marc back again tomorrow.”
Brushing his chin against her cheek, he kissed a tender spot below her ear and whispered, “We need to keep this under wraps, you realize that.”
“I can keep a secret.”
He kissed her again then upped the pace. “Then we have an understanding.”
He flung her leg over his shoulder and sank in deep, setting any further conversation aside in lieu of the heat building between them. She tried to hold on, wanted the two of them to seal their understanding with a climax that rocked them together, but her body had been too ready, the sensation too ripe.
With one last thrust, she broke apart, her fingers clinging to the bed like her heart clung to his promise that everything they had tonight wouldn’t be gone tomorrow. It was silly, really. She didn’t love the man, so she certainly shouldn’t care. But history had shown her that all good things usually ended long before she wanted them to. In the week she’d been here she’d found tranquility and a sense of purpose she’d only begun to explore. This place and the people in it were becoming important to her, and the closer she got, the more frightened she became that it would all crash down around her.
But as her body succumbed to pleasure, those fears faded in the waves rippling through her, and when Marc’s release followed hers, she slipped her leg from his shoulder and pulled him down against her chest. Together, they clutched and moved until the waves subsided and they were left spent and languid in a tangled mass.
She ended up spooned against him, the beat of his heart thumping a calming rhythm against her back. And as she relaxed in the warmth of his embrace, she reflected over this strange week that seemed to keep taking unexpected turns. After the encounter in Marc’s office, she never would have believed they would end up here. And despite his assurance, she still wasn’t convinced they would end up back here again.
Ever since she showed up at this resort nothing had gone as planned. Only a fool would believe that she could start controlling things now.
So as the shadows in the room began to darken and Marc’s breathing slowed and quieted, she closed her eyes and decided to take this journey as it came, one day at a time.
If the previous week had taught her anything, it was that she really had no other choice.
9
“THIS IS OUR LAST ROOM.” Anita rolled the housekeeping cart up to the door and glanced at her watch. “It looks like we’ll be able to take off early. We could be out of here by two.”
Rachel double-checked the room number on the list. “And it’s not a checkout, so it should go pretty quick.” That meant she might have time to squeeze in a full spa treatment before tonight when she hoped to catch up with Marc.
Excitement tingled in her belly. For over a week she’d been meeting him covertly after hours in either her suite or his on-site apartment overlooking the golf course. What had started as a night of uncontrollable passion had turned into a habit—one Rachel had no interest in kicking as long as she was stuck at the resort. The man was good for her body and her spirit. And much to her own amazement, even when they weren’t burning up the sheets, she was finding that she actually liked him.
In the short time they’d spent together, she’d uncovered all kinds of surprising things about him, like the fact that he could cook, he loved classic movies, and had once won a talent contest by juggling bowling balls. When she’d unpeeled the surface, Rachel had found a man very different from the one she’d expected. In fact, the more she got to know him, the harder it became to reconcile the man on the job with the one she met after hours.
And she couldn’t wait for this evening to roll around so she could get to know him even better.
“You take the beds, I’ll take the bathrooms,” Anita said. She brusquely rapped on the door. “Housekeeping!”
After a brief pause, the women grabbed their supplies and entered the suite. This particular room was a two-bedroom suite with a king-size bed in one room and two doubles in the other. With twice the beds and bathrooms it would be more work than a standard single, but she and Anita had gotten good at whipping through double-speed.
Especially with a free afternoon on the horizon and all kinds of steamy ideas for her evening.
So without haste, she and Anita went their separate directions to get the job done. It was only after Rachel had finished the first bedroom and moved to the other that she realized they weren’t alone. Sitting in a stuffy chair by the window was a young girl with headphones on her ears and her nose firmly planted in a book.
The sight took Rachel aback, not just from the shock of seeing someone she hadn’t expected, but by the ghostly girl herself. She was classic Goth, with teased-up jet-black hair and dyed-red bangs, no older than fifteen or sixteen, Rachel guessed. Though her nails were painted black and her clothing was clearly punk, she had nothing visibly pierced, which either meant she was younger still or her parents weren’t supportive of this chosen fashion style.
Rachel wondered why, with so much to do on such a beautiful day, the girl was sitting there alone in her suite, and as Rachel stepped into the room, she cleared her throat and got the girl’s attention.
The girl casually glanced up, apparently not surprised by the intrusion, but her eyes slowly widened when she realized who was standing in her doorway.
“Hi,” Rachel said. “I didn’t know the suite was occupied. We can come back later if you prefer.”
The girl pulled the headphones from her ears and stared, her eyes round as big blue gumballs. “No, um, that’s okay.”
Rachel began by emptying the wastebaskets then moved to one of the beds, all the while feeling the burn of the girl’s gaze following her around the room.
“You’re Rachel Winston,” the girl finally said.
“That’s me.” Fluffing a pillow, she glanced over and smiled.
“I heard you were here, but no one I talked to had seen you.”
“I’ve been trying to keep a low profile.”
“This is too cool.”
The girl reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a cell phone, flipping it open in a gesture Rachel immediately recognized as a move to take a photo.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Rachel snapped. “Please.”
The girl stopped and considered, neither clicking the photo nor putting the phone away. She seemed disappointed, though given her expression had barely changed since Rachel walked in, it was hard to tell for sure.
She sat contemplating for a moment but finally closed the phone without taking the picture. “It’s just that the kids at school will never believe me.” She tucked the phone back in her pocket.
Yes, that was definitely disappointment on her face, and as Rachel studied the girl, her heart tugged over an aura that felt rather sad.
“I’ll tell you what,” Rachel said. “Before I leave, I’ll get my coworker, Anita, to take a picture of both of us together. How does that sound?”
A tiny
smile curved her lips. “Cool.”
Rachel went back to straightening the bed, working in silence until the girl uttered, “Didn’t you, like, stab someone in a rage of fury?”
Rachel laughed and shook her head. “That one, I hadn’t heard.” Though she didn’t make an attempt to explain what had happened. She wasn’t about to take on the task of correcting every overblown story about her life. It would be a never-ending job. Instead, she diverted the subject by asking, “What’s your name?”
“Rain.”
Rachel smiled. “Nice to meet you, Rain.”
She pulled the coverlet over the bed then stepped around to make sure it was even on all sides.
“It’s really Renee, but I go by Rain. I’m going to have it legally changed when I turn eighteen.”
“When will that be?”
“A couple years.”
“Well, I like both names.”
With the first bed done, Rachel moved to the second one closer to the window and the chair where Rain was sitting.
“What are you reading?” Rachel asked.
“A paranormal romance.” Rain tossed the book on the table next to her. “It’s kinda dumb. I like murder mysteries better.” She began picking at her nails. “Do you read fiction?”
Rachel shook her head. “I’m dyslexic, so I never did much reading.”
“No way!” Rain perked. “I am, too, but I read a lot. Didn’t you have tutors? There’s tricks you can learn that help, you know.”
“I did, but not until I was nearly your age.” And by then, she’d had no interest. School and grades had never been high priorities in the Winston household, but Rachel suspected that despite Rain’s rebel appearance, they were probably priorities in hers.
“So, what are you doing here all alone? You must be here with family,” Rachel asked.
Rain’s bright almost-smile dimmed. “They’re on some stupid Jeep tour.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“It’s all part of my brother’s tennis tournament.” She rolled her eyes. “Totally rank.”
“Oh, your brother’s in the tennis tournament going on here this week?” She’d remembered Marc telling her about it.
