Sunset Heat: Bandicoot Cove 2

by Lexxie Couper

  Just when he didn’t think his fingers were going to behave, that he was going to tear the condom trying to get the fucking thing over the distended head of his cock, Kennedy withdrew her mouth from Addison’s wet length and gave him an almost shy look. “Please, Luke.” Her voice was a whispered breath. “I need you inside me.”

  The plea was all it took. Without further hassle, his brain took charge of his fingers. He rolled the condom down the length of his erection and then crossed the room to the bed. Climbing onto the mattress, he sank his shaft into Kennedy’s tight, hot pussy with one fierce, hard thrust.

  She moaned in response.

  “Fuck, love,” Addison groaned, gazing down at the back of her head. “Hum like that again and I’ll—”

  Kennedy moaned, louder this time, pushing back onto Luke’s pumping cock as she did so.

  Addison let out a raw curse. As did Luke. He drove into Kennedy’s cunt and back out, pumping deeper with every penetrating thrust. His head swam, the gripping sensation of her sex around his buried length an exquisite memory he’d craved for so long.

  Too long.

  “She sucks like a demon, convict.” Addison’s running commentary pumped fresh steel into Luke’s cock. “Her tongue…her teeth… Christ, I think she’s going to swallow my fucking balls…”

  Luke slammed into Kennedy’s sex, so close to the edge every fiber in his body ached. Not much longer. Scalding heat was twisting around the base of his spine, spreading through his groin. Sinking fingers of electricity into his anus.

  He bent forward, smoothing a hand over Kennedy’s bare back, around her ribcage, the sight of her hanging breasts too much to ignore. He snared one in a loose hold, the soft slap of its full weight against his palm and fingers as she rocked back and forth with his thrusts only adding to the tension rapidly threatening to overwhelm him.

  She whimpered at his touch, her rock-hard nipple grazing his palm, her sex squeezing his cock.

  Squeezing.

  Squeezing.

  “Christ, oh Christ, Luke, she’s…”Addison’s groan tore at Luke’s fraying control. “Ah, fuck, she’s licking my balls. My fucking cock is in her mouth and she’s licking my…ahh, fuck!”

  Kennedy’s pussy constricted just as Addison threw back his head and let out a roar, his hips bucking, his groin pressing to her face.

  They’re coming, Luke. The thought crashed through Luke’s pleasure-fogged mind, powerful and explosive. They’re coming. They’re coming and so can—

  His orgasm ripped through him, from his swollen balls, from his soul, from the very core of his existence. He came, his seed pumping from his thrusting cock, filling the condom.

  Rhythm deserted him. He pressed his chest to Kennedy’s back, squeezing her breast, fucking her sex, and came, every spurting wad telling him what he knew beyond doubt.

  He never wanted to make love to another woman again.

  Ever.

  “Well, there goes my reputation for being suave and poised.”

  It was Addison’s chuckled statement that lifted Luke’s face from Kennedy’s back. He looked up at his cousin, the fading throb of his climax pulsing through him.

  “Don’t worry.” Kennedy shifted, slowly rising to her knees. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  Luke ground his teeth, the wicked drawing sensation of her pussy sliding over his spent cock almost torturous. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in its potent effect on his body.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about, love,” Addison answered. “It’s the sleeping convict over there.”

  “I’m going to tell the whole bloody world,” Luke said without opening his eyes. He wanted to live in this moment for a while longer. The scent of Kennedy’s pleasure in his breath, Addison’s laughter in his ears. He’d never imagined he could feel so relaxed, so content. “Addison Ellis Lancaster turns into a gibbering idiot when having a climax.”

  Something soft smacked into his face. He staggered back a step, Kennedy’s giggles playing with his senses as his hands instinctually grabbed at whatever had struck him before it fell to the floor. A pillow.

  He flicked a quick look at Addison. “You’re dead, mate.”

  His cousin grinned. “Try it. I wrestle tigers for a living.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “No, you bloody don’t. You take photos of—”

  Another pillow smacked into him.

  “Time out.” Kennedy shuffled about on the bed, kneeling between them, arms wide, palms facing them both, a grin on her face. “Time out.”

  Luke grinned back. “You’re lucky, Lancaster.” He jabbed a finger at Addison over her shoulder. “If it wasn’t for this very naked American you’d be in a world of pain.”

  Addison brushed his knuckles over the front of his shirt and cocked an eyebrow. “Saved from a naked Australian by a naked American. I’m not sure if Her Royal Highness would be ashamed of me or impressed.”

  Kennedy arched her own eyebrow. “Maybe she’d throw you into the Tower of London?”

  Addison pulled a face. “I think I seduced a princess in the Tower of London once. Can’t remember which one.”

  It was Kennedy’s turn to roll her eyes. She threw a look at Luke. “Maybe I will let you beat him up.”

  Luke laughed. “Tempting. But there’s something else I want to do first.”

  She gave him an askew inspection. “What’s that?”

  He raked his stare over her very naked body, letting her see exactly what “that” was. “What do you think, cousin?” He raised his gaze to Addison. “Ready to make the American come again?”

  Addison’s lips pulled into a slow smile. “For Queen and country, convict. For Queen and country.”

  And before Kennedy’s laughing squeal finished sounding in the room, Addison had pressed her flat to the bed and buried his face between her legs.

  Chapter Six

  Six hours of fucking later, Kennedy wondered where her shame had gone. Luke and Addison had taken her to a level of pleasure she didn’t—in her wildest fantasies—believe possible. They’d tied her to the bed, thanks to a rather unorthodox use of the suite’s pillowcases, and painted her body with slick cubes of ice before licking the melting water from her nipples, her flesh, her clit, each taking turns to make her beg for more. They’d soaped her up and rinsed her off in the shower, under the pretext of getting clean for the night’s prewedding cocktail party—the very party all three were now attending—Addison fucking her ass with his tongue as Luke suckled on her breasts until she came.

  They’d laughed their way through a game of rock-paper-scissors, the loser or losers of each hand required to do whatever the winner demanded. She’d come to realize, after losing five games in a row, that she sucked at the game, that both Luke and Addison were very adept at reading people, and that she liked being the filling in a man sandwich.

  It was only now, watching the party guests mingling around the poolside bar, camera in hand, occasionally taking candid shots of their enjoyment, that Kennedy accepted she was a deviant.

  Every time she framed someone’s face in the viewfinder of her Canon, she found herself thinking, bet they’ve never had a threesome before.

  Every time she thought that, her cheeks burned, her pulse kicked up a notch and her pussy squeezed and constricted and carried on until she had to turn away from whoever she was looking at and press her thighs together.

  Oh God, she’d participated in a threesome. Her ultimate fantasy, and she’d experienced it.

  Who the hell knew moving to Australia was going to change her life so much?

  Drawing a slow breath, she attempted to focus on the task at hand. The pre-wedding cocktail party was, it seemed, a success. Kennedy had so many awesome images of the guests enjoying themselves she could honestly stop taking photos now and still have enough to fill a book. The only issue she was having was so many of them were of Luke and Addison. She’d have to cull at least eighty percent of them before showing the proofs to the bride and groom.
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  It was hard though, not capturing the two men in digital glory. There was something definitely magnetic about them. More than once through the evening she’d found herself just watching them, smiling when they smiled, laughing to herself at their antics. Addison was such a showman, his British charm enslaving just about every woman he released it on. Kennedy enjoyed watching them blush and act coy, their fingers stroking their décolletage as they gazed up at him, lips parted in a smile that said, oh please, take me to bed.

  He’d work his magic on them and then, with a quick grin at Kennedy—no matter where she was witnessing the seduction—move on to the next willing subject, be it male or female. Kennedy found herself chuckling more than once, knowing it was her he was planning to take to bed later. Not just because he’d told her so before they left for the party, but because his hungry gaze told her so every time he looked at her across the crowded bar.

  And then there was Luke. The best man.

  Kennedy moved her attention to the Australian firefighter. Her belly tightened at the sight of him chatting with a petite little blonde on the other side of the pool.

  The party was showing Kennedy a different side to Luke. One she’d yet to truly see. He was relaxed, casual. He made everyone he spoke to laugh. He and the groom had spent quite a bit of time animatedly arguing over who was the ugliest of the two of them. It wasn’t until Aidan threatened to throw Luke in the pool that Luke threw up his hands in chuckling surrender and declared, loud enough for almost the whole party to hear that he, Luke Beasley, was the ugliest.

  Another guest pointed out that was why Luke was May in the State Firefighter’s Calendar, not April. Luke had countered with what could only be described as a graceful admittance of defeat: he’d burst out laughing and tossed the grinning man into the water.

  Kennedy captured the whole thing with her camera, of course. The smiling people, the sheer happiness of the moment, the strength of Luke’s body…

  Once again, she’d needed to turn away from him, the sight of his muscles flexing and coiling as he hauled his laughing friend from the pool one-handed doing all sorts of naughty things to her body. Like make her pussy throb and her breath quicken.

  She’d seen the smolderingly intense Luke, hell, she’d slept with the smolderingly intense Luke. She’d met the funny Luke—he was the first Luke she’d met in the New York bar, the one who made her forget the reason she was there in the first place. Now, she was seeing this Luke, a man she could willingly spend the rest of her life smiling and laughing and being with. Just being with.

  Not Rebound Guy. Not Potential Guy. Not even OMG-Awesome-Sex Guy, but Happily-Ever-After Guy. The guy who she wanted to see when she first woke up in the morning. The last guy she wanted to see before she fell asleep. In his arms.

  The little blonde—wearing the skimpiest black dress Kennedy had ever seen—leaned closer to Luke, pressing her palm to the broad expanse of his chest and rising onto tiptoe as she spoke words Kennedy couldn’t hear.

  Something hot and tight fisted in Kennedy’s belly and she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

  She spun away from the sight of the woman who, judging by the way her tongue traced her parted lips and her hips brushed his thigh, was obviously making a rather intimate offering to Luke.

  Holy crap, what the hell was she doing being jealous?

  Oh, who are you kidding, Kennedy? You’re halfway in love with the guy. Admit it.

  Before she could stop herself, Kennedy turned back, her heart threatening to leap its way out of her throat.

  Luke stood alone, watching her, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

  She let out a wobbly laugh, returning his smile across the pool.

  You’re more than halfway in love with him. You know that, right?

  Another shaky breath left her. She was. So what did she do about it?

  “Please tell me you’ve got more than just images of the best man on that camera of yours, Ms. Collins.”

  Kennedy started at the sound of her boss’s voice beside her. She jerked around, her heart clearly addicted to aerobic activity given the way it slammed into her throat once more.

  Kylie smirked at her. “I mean, I know there are images of other guests,” she went on, her eyes glinting with mirth, “but the way you were just standing there, with a—let’s face it—rather goofy look on your face, I’m beginning to wonder if I need to offer Luke the job of head firefighter here on the island.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Or advertise for a new photographer when the wedding is over.”

  Kennedy’s pulse hammered in her throat. She swung her stare back to Luke, relieved to find him now talking with the groom and another man who bore a vague resemblance to the bride. If she’d found him looking at her…

  Much more than halfway in love, Kennedy. So much more.

  “I…” She turned back to her boss. “It’s not that serious.”

  Kylie burst out laughing. “Oh, I think it is. I’ve been watching the pair of you all night. Beaso hasn’t gone more than a few minutes without seeking you out with his eyes, and just then, when you saw him talking to another woman? Well, I don’t need to be an expert in body language to know you were jealous.” She leaned a little closer to Kennedy, her smile stretching wider. “And I am an expert in body language. Studied it all the way through my business degree at uni.”

  Kennedy stared at her, pulse pounding, mouth dry.

  Kylie’s eyebrows pulled into a frown. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just…” Kennedy stopped. Shook her head. “I’m not used to my boss being so friendly.”

  That wasn’t the issue at all.

  Kylie pressed a warm hand to Kennedy’s arm. “I’m not your typical boss, Kennedy. And I know all about being blindsided by love.”

  Kennedy’s stomach twisted.

  Love.

  She tried to keep her gaze locked on the woman before her but failed, turning to look at Luke where he stood on the other side of the pool. Aidan Rogers was still talking to him, but Kennedy could tell Luke wasn’t really paying attention, his lips curling the second her eyes made contact with his.

  Like he was waiting for her.

  He has. Four months of waiting for you. Four months since you ran out on him.

  “This wasn’t meant to happen,” she whispered. Rebound Guy was never meant to be Happily-Ever-After Guy.

  “It’ll work out,” Kylie murmured. “Trust me. There’s something about this island that seems to know what the heart needs.”

  Kennedy wanted to turn back to her boss, to ask her what the island was doing sticking its nose into her heart, but lost all hope of uttering a word when Addison joined Luke and Aidan, his tall, lean frame oozing roguish charm and promise.

  She stared at both men, her belly a hive of insane freaking butterflies, her breath caught in her throat and wondered why, if the island really did know what her heart wanted, it kept confusing the hell out of her?

  Luke was never so glad for a party to end like he was this one. Standing beside Mitch Wood, McKenzie’s oldest brother, he fought to keep his feet in one place. At some stage during the night, Kennedy had disappeared. The last time he’d seen her, over an hour ago, she’d been talking to the resort’s manager and her new boss.

  Luke knew Kylie well enough to know the woman didn’t pull punches, and by the look on Kennedy’s face, a few moments into their conversation, Kylie had landed a doozy. He’d wanted to go to her there and then. Would have done so if Aidan hadn’t started grilling him on his best man’s toast.

  It didn’t help Addison had appeared a few minutes later, adding to the conversation in typical Addison style, which was to tell Aidan Luke hadn’t written a damn thing on his speech and was planning to regale everyone at the wedding with stories about all the times Aidan had brought women back to the station house, letting them sound the engine’s siren after they gave him head.

  It wasn’t true. None of it. But Aidan—who knew Luke well and didn’t know Addis
on that well at all—wasn’t going to let Luke get away until Luke had promised, on pain of a broken nose, that he wasn’t going to deliver any such toast.

  By the time Aidan was appeased and Addison was laughing himself silly, Kennedy was gone.

  Luke hadn’t been able to find her after that.

  Which for some reason unsettled him.

  It wasn’t that he was one of those clingy guys who didn’t want his woman out of his sight. He just felt…empty without knowing she was around. The fact he was thinking of her as his woman only compounded the tension doing its bloody best to engulf him.

  “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you, Beaso?”

  Luke blinked, Mitch’s question jerking him back to the almost-empty bar. “What? Huh?”

  Mitch laughed. “If it’s a woman distracting you so much, go get her, I say.”

  Luke shot the successful businessman a sideward glare. “Shut up, Wood. I’ve seen you checking out one of Mack’s friends tonight. Maybe you should practice what you preach.”

  Mitch let out a long, deep sigh. “Can’t, mate. She’s here with another guy.”

  “Is it serious?”

  Mitch looked like he was going shrug and then changed his mind. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not her type.”

  “What is her type?”

  “Professional surfer, apparently.”

  Luke couldn’t stop his snort. “Why do women have the ability to completely fuck us up? Who decided that was going to be the way of it?”

  Mitch let out his own disgusted snort. “I don’t know. But I’d sure as hell like to have a word with them.”

  “A word? I think I’d like to beat the crap out of them.”

  Mitch’s responding laugh was wry. “That too.”

  They stood and watched the last few remnants of the party dribble from the bar. Luke looked around for Addison, his gut clenching when he couldn’t see him. His cousin had spent quite a bit of time sitting at the bar with Nick Blackthorne and his fiancée, no doubt sharing cross-global adventures, but now he wasn’t anywhere in sight.