by Jean Oram
He smiled. “Yeah, I like that you enjoy the freedom here, too.”
She laughed. “Are you flirting with me, Connor MacKenzie?”
He leaned closer as he offered the bottle again, his lips near hers. “Maybe. You said I had to up my charm. However, you seem to enjoy it when I’m an ass. It makes your eyes twinkle with mischief.” He raised his chin. “You like the challenge, don’t you? Trying to one-up me.”
“Is this you trying to be charming?” He was so close, her own breath was being reflected back at her. All she had to do was ease a tad forward and she’d be kissing her boss.
He stood, offering his hand. “Would you care to go for a swim with me, Maya Summer?”
“I would.” She rested her fingers against his palm, wondering what he would do if she pulled him down and pressed his head between her breasts. What would he do if she removed her bra?
“Maya Summer, you are drunk.”
“That’s why my sisters always make me drink margaritas. Otherwise I get drunk too fast.” She allowed her chest to brush his as she stood, her nipples hardening with the light contact. She shivered despite the heat and tipped her head back. Connor’s eyes were dark pools of lust, and she wanted it unbridled. Here. Now.
Sex with me?
Did she say that out loud? She didn’t think so. She hooked a finger through a belt loop in Connor’s shorts, and pulled him to the steps that led down to the path.
“Don’t we need towels?” he asked.
“There are some down there.”
“Bathing suits?”
“My oh my, you need an introduction to the freedom that is Nymph Island.”
“Fitting name.”
Connor kept up as she headed for the water. Once her feet hit the dock, she shimmied out of her shorts, turning to watch Connor. The big question was whether to swim in her underwear or to skinny-dip. The sun was still shining and anyone who was over on Baby Horseshoe and had half decent vision would see her. But Connor already had, and that was all that mattered right now, because she wanted him to see her again and to react.
He tossed off his shirt and tightened his abs, his attention focused on her own bare stomach.
“You’re too skinny,” she said with a laugh. “Quit sucking in.” She waved at his shorts, daring him to drop them.
His cheeks flushed as he slowly unbuttoned his shorts, allowing them to fall to the ground.
She reached behind to unclasp her bra, noting that Connor seemed to have stopped breathing. She flicked it to the side and shimmied out of her lace panties, giving him a wicked wink.
“Coming swimming?” she asked, just before taking a shallow dive off the end of the dock. The water felt amazing as it rushed past her naked skin, and she came up grinning. “Feels great.”
Connor stood at the edge, studying the water’s depth.
“Come on, Connor.”
“It’s broad daylight.”
“And?”
His shorts came off, and he was in the water before she could take him in.
“Hot damn, that’s cold!” He let out a gasp, treading water quickly.
“You’re going to tire yourself out. Put your feet down.”
He relaxed and straightened, his broad shoulders sticking out of the water. Maya came closer, keeping eye contact. He wasn’t giving off signals. Not a one. None saying for her to back off. None saying to come closer.
She paddled near him, rolling onto her back so her breasts bobbed to the surface, drawing his gaze. He was interested. Good. She could handle polite and shy.
Turning in the water, she glanced up at the cottage peeking through the leaning trees that hugged the shore. Almost laughing, she thought of her mother and sisters’ beliefs that this place was a matchmaker, and that destiny had a hand in them falling in love if they spent time here with the right man.
Destiny better know Maya wasn’t looking for love. She was after a good time and a hot job. And right now, judging by the desire coiling Connor’s muscles tight, he might be able to fulfill one of the things she was after.
She splashed him playfully, and he seemed shocked for a second, before responding with a splash of his own. She rolled and dived, coming around to his bare ankles, giving them a tickle as she surfaced behind him, resisting the urge to nip at his lovely round tush. He laughed, looking younger than he had since his arrival. He reached for her ankle as she swam away, and she let him catch it, reel her in, curious to see what he’d do with her once he had her. Hopefully, touch her in all the places she touched herself while thinking of his power, intrigue, control, and sexuality.
He pulled her in, one hand over the next as he worked his way up her leg. She laughed and squirmed, playing along. He wrapped her legs around his hips, gripping her waist, his naked body scorching where their skin met. Without warning, his lips were on hers, taking her, turning her on beyond belief. Everything about him that she admired in the business world was at home in his kisses, too.
He deepened the kiss, consuming her breath and any willpower she might try to summon.
Oh, yeah. This was what her body wanted.
She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, the water buoying her up. She didn’t feel his erection, and slipped lower, seeking it, wanting to feel it rub against her opening. His hands distracted her as he cupped her tush, lifting her as his mouth slid off her lips, down her neck. She floated back as his lips pulled at her wet skin.
He lifted her higher, his warm mouth clamping on her erect nipple. Her skin was sensitive in the water and cool breeze. The idea that anyone could see them kicked her longing into a higher gear. She needed him.
She let out a low moan. “Yes, please.”
He gave her a nip, his palm moving to her other breast.
“Ohmigod.” He was good. Really good with his hands and mouth. She was going to do something wild in the water if he didn’t back off.
She really hoped he didn’t.
She caressed the nape of his neck, keeping her body tight to his, wishing he would move his fingers south.
Connor walked them to the shallows, keeping them low so they’d stay partly covered by the water, his hands moving over her back as they fought in a lip-lock that would leave her mouth red for days.
“Take me Connor,” she groaned.
He sat in the sand, Maya in his lap, and she brought his hand down between her thighs, wanting him to feel how turned on she was. He let out a stuttered breath and slipped out from under her. “Not here,” he whispered.
She stood slowly, letting him see her fully nude before him. “Come to the boathouse.” She led him into the small building, dumping the stack of towels they kept in a cupboard onto the floor. Connor’s body pressed tight to hers, not allowing her more than a butterfly’s breath away, and they fell onto the towels together, their lips meeting again. She tried to straddle him, but he snatched up her hands in his, pushing her down so he could lean his torso over her, pinning her in place.
“Touch me, Connor.”
He ignored her, taking in every detail of her wet skin. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her chest, licking streams of water off her trembling form. He relaxed his grip and she swept her hands free, pulling his chest tight to hers.
“Don’t be so impatient,” he grumbled as she tugged his palms to her breasts.
“I want you everywhere.”
She ground her hips against his thigh, where his body had her pinned. He trailed his fingers along the tender skin of her exposed side. She shivered, and tried to reach between their bodies so she could stroke him.
He was being so difficult. So…so in control. She loved it even though it frustrated her like hell. There was something sexy about a man who could and would stand up to her anywhere, anytime. He would never let her bulldoze him, and the knowledge that his power extended to the bedroom pushed her desire deeper.
Connor licked her nipple, blowing warm air on it as his damp hair ticked her bare shoulder.
“You’re killing me.” She pulled
on his shoulders, wishing that he’d quit worrying about turning her on, and make love to her.
He moved slowly, building the tension within her. She was going to come before she even got to touch him, feel him inside her.
“I want you,” she said, her body heat soaring. “Now.”
“You’re sexy, Maya. You deserve time.”
“I want to come so bad. Touch me.”
His hand slipped between her legs, and she ground against him as he rubbed her into a frenzy.
She needed something to hold on to. She was so close.
He tweaked her nipple as he thrust two fingers inside her, curling them as he stroked her. She let the wave hit her, ride over her, shuddering down her spine.
“Say my name,” he said, his voice low.
“Connor the King of Toronto and Bay Street and All Things Amazing.”
She ground against him one last time, loving the way his laugh vibrated against her chest. “I need more,” she pleaded. The man had opened a floodgate of lust and need.
He laughed as she went limp under him, her arms falling loose by her side. “I’m serious. Do me again—for real this time. That was exquisite.”
He lightly grazed her shoulder with a finger. “Imagine how it’ll feel if you let me take my time.”
“I will explode,” she murmured, listening to his heart tap out a steady beat. She was still pinned by him, and all she could think was how much she wanted him to roll his weight all the way onto her and make use of everything the Y chromosome had gifted him with.
She shifted slightly and propped herself on an elbow, her breasts pushed into his chest, their legs still tangled. He closed his eyes, the bags under them grooved and dark, his bruise still an ill shade of green. How could he be so worn-out? He was Connor MacKenzie, unstoppable. Maya’s dream was to become the female version of him—someone who owned the business world with ease and grace—but this wasn’t part of the dream.
She trailed a finger down his body, edging closer to his still-hidden crotch. She wanted to stroke him, make him light up and keep this party going. He drew her hand away, kissing her wrist, then sucking her ring finger in a way that made the muscles at her core contract. She lowered herself onto her back once more, inviting him to join her.
He shifted, blocking her moves to reach his penis, his expression mischievous. “You are every man’s dream, Maya. Responsive, sexy, beautiful, smart as hell.”
He began caressing her torso in a dance that lit her nerves on fire. His lips joined his fingers, making sensitive paths on her skin. Finally, he lifted his chest over hers, but lower to rest between her legs. She parted for him in encouragement, but he was positioned frustratingly low, his mouth moving south in slow circles on her stomach, his breath steady on her skin.
He was going lower. She tensed, waiting for him to touch her with his tongue. She threaded her fingers into his hair. She couldn’t believe he wouldn’t let her satisfy him first. He was even better in bed than she’d imagined.
His movements stopped and a gentle breath tickled the skin just above her triangle of hair.
“Connor?” She propped herself up on her elbows. Another puff of breath followed what sounded like a gentle snore. “Are you asleep?”
If this was destiny playing a joke on her, destiny was a fat-assed bitch.
* * *
Connor blinked awake. It was dark. Cold. And he was sleeping on something uncomfortable. Water was lapping under him, but he was dry. A dock. The boathouse.
Maya?
He patted the area around him. He was alone on the towels Maya had thrown out of the cupboard in their haste to touch each other. She wasn’t a nymph, after all, but a siren who had dashed him upon the rocks as he’d predicted. He stifled a groan, his mind filling in details he wished were attached to the brain cells the vodka had surely washed away. How stupid could he be? He’d come incredibly close to revealing his secrets to Maya. She was a lot like him in that she valued strength and virility, and he had neither. She’d almost seen how weak and broken he was, and that would have been a game changer. A killer. What was wrong with him? She was the sexiest, most stimulating woman he’d ever met, and all he’d managed was a partial erection. Sure, way better than he’d managed over the past month, but still, nothing near the display of manhood he expected of himself, or would be truly representative of how he felt about her, sexually.
She’d moved so boldly. Shed her clothes, called him to her like the siren she was. Of course he’d followed her and her song. She’d been hot. Naked. Wet and willing, but he hadn’t been able to satisfy her in the way a man should. Sure, he’d given her an orgasm, but it was humiliating how he’d had to fend her off to protect his secret. Connor draped an arm over his eyes, his head aching, his pride broken.
His mind drifted to her expression as he’d taken command of her teasing body. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel himself surrounded by her, up to the hilt. The longing created an ache inside him so severe it was as though something had been torn from him.
As soon as she noticed he was broken, she’d be gone. And for some reason that mattered to him. He’d been stupid to allow things to go so far—and not because he was her boss.
Connor sat up, his head swimming, his brain an overinflated balloon in a vise. The digging sensation behind his eyes intensified. The doctor had been right about abstaining from alcohol. Holy hell.
Sighing, he curled up on the towels under him, using one as a blanket over his shivering, naked form. Maybe later he’d go searching for his clothes, then make the awful trek back up to the cottage.
He’d actually been feeling better earlier, so what did he do? Get drunk and finger-bang his more-than-willing assistant. He was his own worst enemy, and yet all he could think about was finding some way to get an erection so he could show Maya just how much of a man he really was. How much he wanted to finish what they’d started.
He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and his body thanked him with a stab, stab, stab in the temples. Pain in tandem with his heartbeat seared through him and he let out a groan.
Quiet footfalls sounded on the dock, then came into the boathouse. He glanced up as Maya crouched beside him, clothed again, flashlight shining on him. She didn’t seem angry, only concerned. He was becoming an invalid.
He sat up, his head screaming at him to put a gun to it and end his misery.
“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
Wow. Lots to dive into there. Let’s start with tattered human, followed up with crappy morals and no sense of honor. Who took things that far with an assistant while both parties were drunk?
“Sorry about that.” He wanted to stand, but couldn’t figure out a way to do so without informing his head that a change in altitude had occurred.
“Sorry about what?” she asked, her voice edged with caution.
“Taking advantage.”
She laughed, sitting on the boards with her knees drawn under her chin. “You gave me a better O than I can give myself. Nothing to apologize for there.”
He glanced at her, checking to see if she was jerking his chain, but was unable to read her expression with the light pointed away from her face.
“Really.” She handed him his clothes, then set the flashlight down beside her. She scratched her forehead as though feeling shy.
He reached up and drew her down for a kiss, freezing at a sudden memory. Had he…? Oh, no. He’d fallen asleep while preparing to go down on her. He swallowed a bitter lump of humiliation and released her, slipping into his shirt, unsure how to go about pulling on his boxers without dangling his flaccid penis in her face.
“Uh, did I fall asleep?” he asked, his voice thick.
She laughed shortly, the sound held back by something similar to disappointment, he suspected. Or worse.
She stood, turning away to adjust the cupboard’s contents, which had to be still in disarray from her yanking out the stack of towels like a madwoman. Connor quickly tugge
d on his clothes, almost falling over as his head was showered in shards of pain. His shirt felt odd like it might be backwards, but Maya passed him several bottles of water. She grabbed an air mattress from against the wall. “Can you bring the towels?” she asked.
He gathered them, careful how he moved his head, and followed her out to the dock, where she dropped the air mattress. She took the towels and began busily arranging them while he downed one of the drinks.
Connor hesitated beside her, not sure what she had in mind. He didn’t want to fall asleep with his tongue on her clit, and he didn’t exactly think his screaming head would let him do anything as active as penetration, assuming he could even rise to the occasion.
“Have you seen the stars since you’ve been out here?” She turned to him, swinging the thin flashlight beam his way. He winced and held up a hand to shield his eyes.
“I haven’t.”
“Come.” Using the flashlight’s beam, she directed him onto the bed she’d made, complete with sleeping bags. Two.
Thank goodness. He could be smooth without taking things into no-man’s land.
He sat carefully and slowly, then looked up as she turned off the beam of light. “Holy cow.” Stars were crowding the sky as though there wasn’t enough room for all of them. The more he stared, the more he could see, filling in the inky background.
“I know. Amazing, right?” She sat on the opposite side of the mattress, and in the dim light filtering across from the opposite island, he watched her sit with her knees folded against her chest. All he could think of was how he wanted to make love to her. Not screw her brains out, but to love her slowly and luxuriously. To feel every curve, luscious and deep. To learn her body as if it was an ancient, endangered language. To honor her temple, and let her know how precious and rare she was. Strong, feminine. He wanted a completely different kind of satiation than he had when he was younger. He wanted to take his time. Memorize her scent. Her taste. Her responses.
Without questioning himself, Connor reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of a finger. She leaned into his caress.
