by Maggie Way
She placed a hand on his chest and shoved.
He collapsed onto the sofa.
She reached behind her. “I might be a little out of practice, but it’s like riding a bike.”
Laughter burst from him.
Then, with the scrape of her dress’s zipper as she dragged it down, his laughter died. The bodice of her dress sagged, and then fell into a heap of purple at her feet.
She stood before him in high heels, a bra, and—he swallowed the painful lump in his throat—the flimsy G-string.
A seductress.
Except for the insecure curve of her shoulders and the teardrop of uncertainty shimmering in her eyes.
Her eyelashes swept down, shutting him out, and her trembling fingers fumbled with the clasp of her corset thingy. Soon her pert breasts bounded free and the bra joined the pool on the floor. Her breasts were not the biggest, but they were perfectly round and plump enough to fill his palms.
His cock came agonizingly erect, its throbbing beat echoing the one in his heart.
Her hands skimmed down her body to push the tiny scrap of her underwear over the exaggerated swell of her hips. The string caught on the edge of her heel. With a panicked kick that pierced his heart, she jiggled the thong loose.
In nothing but the heels, she climbed onto his lap.
He smoothed his palms over the silky skin of her hips and thighs. While she worked the buttons of his dress shirt, his hands roamed over her calves, and lower, to grip her ankles. She shoved his shirt fabric aside and her small hands skittered over his bare chest and lower, to the fastening of his tuxedo pants.
His erection bobbed with its release and an appreciative growl vibrated in the back of her throat.
Blood rushed to his groin and the golden jewel tones in her eyes beckoned to him. He craved her, much the way he craved his favorite whiskey, and he wondered if she’d taste as lovely, between her thighs. He couldn’t wait to find out.
The soft fuzz of her bush teased his cock when she rubbed herself against him. Then all he knew was heat and softness, and the bliss of her swollen pussy swallowing his cock and his soul.
God, she was tight.
He pushed deeper.
So fucking tight.
Uneasiness prickled—
But she rolled her hips and he was lost.
He clutched her lush ass and his head dropped to the sofa back. So tight. Tight and hot and wet.
“Luke, tell me wh-what to do. I w-want to please you.”
The fog of his lust burned away. In the library, he’d been too far gone, too quickly, to understand, but now, as her tight pussy sucked him, the truth slammed into him.
Reaching up, he took her head in his hands. “You’re a fraud, Emily Cole.”
Terror shimmered in her dark eyes and he soothed her with a small kiss on her mouth.
“How many men have you been with? Tell me the truth.”
“What, like, in the last year?”
“How many men ever?”
“O-one. Before you.”
A soft curse slipped from him.
Her inexperience was far beyond what he’d imagined. Far beyond what she’d let on.
He felt a moment’s regret that he’d taken her the way he had, against the wall in a mad rush. On the library desk. In a mad rush.
His heart softened. “How long ago?”
Her throat worked and her gaze slid away. “Oh, it’s been a while.”
He brushed back her hair, which had fallen forward to hide the upper swells of her breasts. “How long?”
“Ten y-years.”
He stilled.
“Don’t freak out. It’s n-not a big deal.”
“It’s kind of a big deal. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She chewed her bottom lip a moment. “There wasn’t really time, before the first time, and then… I thought, if y-you found out, y-you’d find me less… attractive.”
He pulled her head down and sucked her plump bottom lip between his teeth. “Not possible.”
In between his soft nibbles, she whispered against his mouth, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for being who you are.”
She melted into him with a soft moan. A boldness came over her then, as if she’d been freed by her little confession. Her hands on his chest, she rolled her hips.
A sharp hiss of air sucked between his teeth. He gripped her hips. “Emily…”
She threw her head back and rode him. Her bright hair fell about her shoulders like cascading fire, and matched the fuzz between her legs where her body swallowed his cock. Her slick moisture eased his passage, and before his heavy-lidded gaze, her breasts bounced. His mouth clamped on a pink nipple.
Her greedy moans wrenched everything from him. Caught in whiskey-colored swirls, he gave her everything he had until her moans of pleasure slanted toward orgasmic cries. His balls squeezed. The tight walls of her sweet pussy clenched around him. Shoving deep and holding there, he emptied his seed inside her.
While their breathing slowed, he smoothed a hand up her back. Gripping her nape, he pulled her face down to his.
“But, Em, don’t ever lie to me again. Please. That’s the one thing I cannot tolerate.”
A ripple of worry disturbed the liquid softness in her eyes. She shifted and, with a reluctant kiss of regret, her body released his.
He held her waist, keeping her on his lap. “What is it?”
“There’s something I should pr-probably tell you.”
He didn’t understand the slash of disappointment that sliced through him.
“It’s about BOB,” she said.
His lust-addled brain seized.
“Remember, the vibrator? From the airport?”
“I remember,” he snapped. “What about it?”
“It’s not mine.”
There was nothing to do about it. He laughed at her.
She frowned. “Wh-why is that funny?”
“You scared the piss out me. Jesus, from the look on your face, I thought you were gonna lead me to a dead body or give me the details of your smuggling ring.” When his body stopped shaking with laughter, he smoothed his hands over the swell of her hips. “Though this does put a damper on one or two of my more intriguing sexual fantasies. Whose is it?”
“It was m-my mom’s—no, not like that!”
A relieved breath burst from him.
“She didn’t die of cancer. She had a disease that caused her muscles to w-weaken and, eventually, stop w-working. I don’t know why I don’t tell people what killed her. It was such a horrible disease. I used the vibrator to help break up the congestion in her lungs as her muscles grew too weak to do it.”
And just like that, the tongue-tied stray kitten silenced the silver-tongued charmer. He pulled her forehead to his, but he couldn’t speak for the chaos rioting through him.
His mouth found hers and he drank in her sweetness.
When she pulled back, she gazed down at him with large, grave eyes. “I won’t lie to you ever again, Luke. I promise.”
Her hips shifted and the soft fuzz of her red bush tickled his cock.
He became semi-erect.
Her eyes flashed, and a rusty laugh rumbled through him.
“I had no idea sex could be so… amazing.” Her warm mouth found the side of his neck. “When can we do it again?”
Whatever benevolent god had gifted him Emily Cole, Luke was a true believer. He laid his head on the couch back and watched her face as he slid his fingers through her soft curls.
She moaned and her head fell back.
The sound of wood crackling in the fireplace was the only noise in the quiet house. Luke lay awake, while tucked up against his body, Emily slept.
Naked. Her pale skin appeared pure in the firelight. The ridiculous makeup had worn away and her hair was in hopeless disarray. The round swells of her peachy ass tugged a satisfied smile from him. That was how she should be.
He smoothed a hand up her thigh,
his darker skin a stark contrast to her paleness. Like a black stain spilling over a pristine canvas. Regret twisted through him, even as his cock grew thick and heavy.
His smile faded as one corner of his heart fractured. The blasted thing just crumbled and broke off like a chipped tooth or brittle bone.
He could never have her. Not fully. He knew that.
But he could indulge, for a little while at least. Until she’d had enough and wanted him gone from life. In the meantime, he’d buried himself inside her heart and her heat as often as possible.
She was his winter break, a vacation from the cold and the bleakness. He might enjoy his visit, but he couldn’t buy real estate.
Though what would it hurt to lie next to her in the dark, and breathe and sleep with her a little while longer?
Emily cracked open her eyes to the soft halo of daylight leaking into the darkened room at the edges of the curtains. A delicious soreness in unmentionable places brought to mind the man asleep at her side a moment before his warmth reached out to her.
Turning her head, she confirmed the previous night hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. Sound asleep, the long sweep of his lashes kissed his cheekbones and his full mouth fell slightly ajar. The sight of him in peaceful slumber poked holes at the protective wall around her heart. It was a shabbily built structure anyway, tossed up only after the threat had already breached the gates.
She slipped from the bed and padded around the room, collecting the scattered articles of her clothing. Her hair hung in hopeless tangles about her shoulders and she knew Kate’s makeup must be smudged beneath her eyes. She struggled into her dress and tiptoed to the door, sparing one last look for the gorgeous man—
He sat up in the bed, watching her. Shirtless and droopy-eyed, his dark hair stood up in all directions.
Just like that, her heart sprouted wings and soared.
“I’m going to start br-breakfast.”
He tossed back the covers and, in all his naked glory, climbed from the bed.
She gulped. “You don’t have to get up. I bought a box of pastries and some fresh fruit. I’m just going to start the coffee.”
His stern scowl as he pulled his tuxedo pants over his lean hips conveyed his opinion on the matter. He tugged his white undershirt over his head and crossed to her.
She reached for the door.
“Wait.” Both of his hands slipped beneath the curtain of her hair and, drawing her to him, he took possession of her mouth.
The kiss managed to be both urgent and languid, and she held onto his forearms as a dizzying thrill spiraled through her.
He moaned against her mouth. “You taste so good.” When he pulled back and peered down into her face, he brushed the sides of her face with his thumbs. “Now, shall we go find out why there’s a porn star in your movie?”
He flung open the doors. The house was quiet as they padded down the hall and into the foyer. Emily went to the front door and pulled it open. Sunlight streamed into the house when she stooped to pick up the newspaper.
“People still read those?” Luke asked as she shut the door.
“Don’t they?” She followed him to the dining room, dropping the paper on the table as they passed.
When Luke pushed open the swinging door, voices bombarded them.
“Did you guys see the beach? Holy shit. Max, man, tell me there are going to be lots of beach scenes.”
Bodies packed around the kitchen table, the box of doughnuts opened between them and already half-empty.
Max noticed them then. “Oh, hey, guys, this is Emily. She owns the house. And that’s Luke.” A light came into his dark eyes. “The cook, was it?”
Luke bared his teeth. “Chef.”
“Right.” Max gestured to the group seated at the table. “This is the crew. Ian and Jared handle the camera and lighting. Will, here, is in the lead role, along with Honey, who I hear you’ve already met.” Max’s brow wrinkled when he considered Drew sitting beside Honey. “I have no idea who this guy is.”
Honey’s mouth lifted in a coy smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s mine.”
“I, uh, didn’t hear you. H-how did y-you get in?”
“Honey let us in.”
“Only because you called my cell phone at 6 a.m.”
Emily chewed her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t have your rooms ready. I, uh, w-wasn’t expecting y-you until tomorrow.”
Color touched his cheekbones and he shifted his weight to one foot. “Details are a little lost on me sometimes. Hope it’s okay.”
“Oh, of course. I just n-need some time…”
“That’s cool. We’ve got enough to keep us busy for a while.” He passed a stack of papers around the table. “Here’s the first scene. We shoot tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. sharp.”
“Sure would have been nice to get these sooner.” Honey sipped coffee. “Hard to memorize your lines in twenty-four hours.”
Max scratched the back of his neck. “I’m working on it.”
Honey’s dark eyes studied him. “You haven’t finished writing it yet, have you?”
A scruffy guy with a man bun—was he Ian or Jared?—rocked back in his chair. “Is she shitting us, Max?”
“Don’t worry about the script,” Max snapped. “I got it under control.”
“Those pesky details,” Honey murmured.
“Wait, does that mean I didn’t have to memorize those pages you sent?” Will asked around a mouthful of doughnut.
“Yes, you did.”
Will’s despondency was short-lived. “As long as it’s a beach scene, I don’t care.” He flipped through the pages Max had set in front of him.
“Not gonna happen,” Max said. “The permit won’t allow it. I’m appealing, but for now, it’s a no-go.”
“How about we have a look at that permit?”
All eyes in the room turned to Luke.
Max eased back in his chair. “It’s a painfully dull document, I can assure you.”
“Nonetheless, I’ll take a look at it.”
“Looking for anything specific?”
Luke lifted a shoulder. “I just want to verify everything’s in order. Thief Island has some interesting ordinances that most other places don’t have. Isn’t that right, Mayor?”
Drew raised his coffee cup. “We’re a bastion of quirks and oddities, it’s true.”
Max’s eyes narrowed to slits. “For a cook, you know an awful lot about ordinances.”
“Chef.” Luke shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Emily pays me to keep her out of trouble.”
“A chef and a bodyguard?” Max’s dark eyes shimmered. “You’re a handy guy to have around.”
“I try to be.” Luke gave Max his back when he turned to Emily. “Why don’t you go check and see if any of the guests are up while I start breakfast.” He spoke in a low voice and the conversation around the table resumed without them.
Emily wavered. “Are you sure you’re okay in here by yourself?”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“I’m officially worried.”
After a quick change out of her bridesmaid dress and into a pair of blue jeans and a sweatshirt, Emily wandered upstairs where guests had in fact begun to rouse. She made sure they all knew food awaited them in the dining room and then she rushed back downstairs to help Luke in the kitchen.
He put her to work manning the toaster and the coffee station—he didn’t trust her with anything else—while he kept platters of eggs and pancakes replenished.
When the food consumption slowed some time later, she headed upstairs to strip beds and remake them with clean linens.
After dumping the used sheets and towels down the laundry chute to collect beside the washer and dryer in the mudroom, she headed back downstairs to start a load washing. As she passed through the dining room, Luke stood poised before the rapt audience seated around the table, endeavoring to juggle a spatula, an orange, and a teacup.
&nbs
p; Vivian’s tinkling laughter rose above the merriment, exposing her as yet another victim to Luke’s charm.
Emily was still smiling when she closed the lid to the washing machine.
So absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear him behind her until he captured her around the waist and hauled her in to his side.
His mouth found the sensitive spot below her ear. “When can you meet me in the library?”
He eased her back against the wall and she tilted her face up to his. His mouth brushed over hers in a whisper-soft kiss and one hand came up to touch the side of her face while he savored her.
He pulled up abruptly. “What was that?”
She blinked away the languid warmth settling over her. “What was what?”
A loud thump sounded when something hit the other side of the wall at her back. They stilled.
Heavy panting carried to her. “I’ve never met a woman quite like you,” Drew said thickly.
Honey’s soft laugh carried a hard edge. “I’m a little different from the spoiled rich girls I’m sure you’re used to.”
“Sweetheart, you’re as different as different can possibly be.”
“Is that so?” A ring of disappointment tinged Honey’s voice.
“For one thing, you’re smarter. The smartest, I’d wager.”
A beat of silence followed before Honey asked, “And easier?”
“You turned me down last night.”
“Maybe I’m not the whore you’ve imagined me to be?”
“I know a whore when I see one,” Drew said. “That’s not you.”
The soft slippery sounds of their kiss went on for some time.
Luke reached out and nudged Emily’s mouth closed, which had been hanging open.
Finally, Drew and Honey came up for air.
Drew’s voice when he spoke was thick with emotion. “You’re going to be bad for reelection.”
A few more thumps on the wall, and the door to her suite closed.
Emily wrinkled her nose. “Y-you don’t think they’re going to have sex in my bed, do y-you?”
Luke shrugged. “At least someone gets to.”
She smacked his arm and slipped out from the prison of his arms. He swatted her butt as she darted away, laughing.
Whenever she was near him, her heart lifted. Everything became light and buoyant around him.
