Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  He growled low and feral in his throat. “You’re going to ruin me, Piper.”

  “Ruin you, or reinvent you?” I snagged his lip between my teeth and pulled.

  Another growl rumbled, this time deep in his chest, and I felt him begin to grow again inside of me. The man was absolutely insatiable.

  “Oh, little Piper…” He bucked up into me while a wily grin caught on his mouth as he took in my sudden wide eyes from how hard he already was again. “I think the word we’re looking for here is resurrect.” He started to slam into me again. “Because, baby, before I met you… I was damn near dead.”

  CHAPTER 14

  By the time we got back down to Aguas Calientes, it was dark and still raining. Most of the tourists were heading to the hot springs, as it was the thing to do. After all, Aguas Calientes directly translated to “Hot Water,” so they had to have hot water somewhere. I’d asked Derrick if he wanted to join the throngs, but the look he’d given me was pure animal, and instead he said, and I quote, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night with my head between your legs. Fuck the hot springs.” He grabbed me by the soggy arm and whisked me upstairs to our hotel room.

  We shared a long and sexy shower reminiscent of our steamy shower back at Travesura in Lima, where he’d sunk to his knees and plastered me against the wall, eating me out with constant and helpless fascination, unable to get his fill. I thought for sure we’d get dressed and head out to find some food, that his promise of a night of endless orgasms had been a slight exaggeration, and that we’d have sex later on again that night. But no. The man had not been lying. He said he wasn’t hungry…for food, and that we were not leaving our hotel room again until checkout the next day. And he tossed me onto the bed and practically dove face first into my pussy.

  I lost track of how many orgasms I had.

  I think I may have dozed off, or he’d tongue-fucked me to the point of blacking out, but either way, a slight dip in the mattress had me groggily blinking my eyes open, only to see a sexy blur angling up on to his elbow, smiling at me.

  “Is it morning?” I yawned, shifting slightly to face him. Wincing as my inner thighs brushed against one another. He hadn’t shaved since Lima, and I was a little chafed. At the time it’d felt incredible, but now it was a tad raw.

  He chuckled. “No. Just shy of midnight.”

  “Oh.”

  His hand came up and started drawing little erotic circles on my bare hip, I moaned and scooted closer to him. “Can I ask you something?” I pressed my body against his.

  “Mhmm.”

  “What was…” I swallowed, unsure how to finish my question without offending him. “Um… what was all that up on the mountain about? Up against the tree… twice.” His mouth turned up into a wolfish grin, while a thick and eager erection prodded my hip. But I needed to ask my question; I couldn’t be distracted. “And then tonight… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this many orgasms. A-and… and I’m not complaining… it just seems—” I lifted one shoulder, then averted my gaze. “It just seems like you’re thanking me. Are you thanking me?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyes flashed open, and I pulled away. But he tugged me close; a deep and manly chuckle shaking his bare chest. “Just listen, okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay…”

  “I told you in the hospital that I’m recovering from recent brain surgery.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, I’m also recently divorced. Like the ink is barely dry, recently divorced.”

  My wide eyes much have betrayed me, because a knowing smirk twisted at the corner of his mouth. “She was sleeping with her boss.”

  I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, in the end, it was a blessing in disguise. Apparently, she’d already been sleeping with him before I was diagnosed, and then all throughout my treatment and recovery.”

  “H-how did you find out?”

  He rolled his eyes. “She finally told me.”

  “And… did she want to get back together?”

  He shook his head. “No, she asked for a divorce.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “When you told me you were a lawyer, I nearly hit the bricks,” he said, managing a hangdog expression.

  My mouth opened, but nothing besides air came out.

  “Mariah was a lawyer, too,” he continued. “But unlike you, she was cold and reserved. Life was about facts and statistics. The woman left very little room for fun… or, so I thought. When I’d been diagnosed with a brain tumor, she hadn’t even shed a tear. She’d immediately started pumping the doctor for information on treatment and procedures and what my chances were. She read up on similar cases, did research and sought out second opinions. And even though I knew that it was her way of showing she cared, because I don’t doubt that she did...” He made a rueful face. “Or maybe it was the guilt of shtupping her boss, who knows? But she was an emotionless robot about it all, and that’s not what I wanted, what I needed.”

  I cupped his cheek. “You wanted to process it with the person you loved. Talk things through. Talk about the two of you and your relationship, not the tumor.”

  He nodded. “See, you get it. Sure, I needed a day or so to just think on it myself, kind of like I did after the robbery, going quiet and introspective. But then, I wanted to talk things through with my wife and discuss how it would affect us. But she’d just jumped right into fixing things and hadn’t even given me a moment to come to terms with the fact that a tennis ball was currently growing in my head.”

  “I still don’t understand what that has to do with me, though,” I said, shaking my head.

  He smiled and leaned into my touch. I loved the feeling of his stubbly cheeks, and I couldn’t help but stroke his scruff with my thumb. “Even in our five years together, Mariah never looked at me the way you looked at me the night in the hospital or today up on the mountain. There was never the fear of losing me in her eyes, never the concern, never the worry. Probably because she already had someone else, so the thought of losing me wasn’t that big of a deal to her.” I made a horrified face, but he just shrugged. “Who knows? But I never really knew where I stood with my wife, whether she loved me as much as I loved her, or… whether she loved me at all.”

  I inched my face forward and brushed my lips against his, not sure what else to say. This was just a weeklong fling, right?

  “You’re so sweet and kind and full of emotion, Piper, and having lived with a robot for so many years, I find your raw feelings and enthusiasm about the smallest things so refreshing.”

  I chuckled softly. “I’m just finally starting to feel normal again and be happy about things again… it’s been a tough eighteen months.”

  His hand fell on top of mine. “Who?”

  I swallowed. “My husband.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed again and nodded. “He was a biologist and on a field assignment up in the Arctic Circle. A storm hit, and their boat capsized. We’d been married for just over six months. This trip to Machu Picchu was supposed to be for our second anniversary, seeing as we never went on a honeymoon. He was too busy finishing up his master’s.”

  “That’s why you kept saying, ‘I can’t lose you, too’?”

  I nodded as a sob caught in my throat. A warm, stray tear wended its way down my cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

  “Thank you for sharing with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

  I managed a small smile. “Thank you for telling me about your wife. And I’m sorry she cheated on you. Some women are serious bitches.”

  He sighed. “Some women can be. Just like some men can be assholes. We’re all human.”

  “Well, if it helps at all, I kind of lied back at the hostel anyway. I worked at a very prestigious law firm back home, it’s where I did my articling, and then I was called to the bar, wrote it, passed and then immediately quit. I’ve never really worked a day in my life as a lawyer.
Ray died the day before I was set to start my articling job. They gave me six months of leave to sort out my life. I worked for them for a year, wrote my exam and quit. I realized even before I took the job that it wasn’t for me. Ray knew before I even started law school that it wasn’t for me. He thought I should have been a teacher.” I snorted. “So, I never really was a lawyer. I mean I am one. But not really.”

  He gave me a poignant smile. “Lawyer or not, you’re still one of the kindest, warmest, sweetest people I’ve ever met. I didn’t know they still made people like you, so genuine and down-to-earth.”

  “I had no idea about your wife or your tumor…” I whispered, not sure what else to say.

  He shrugged. “It’s not exactly something I go around advertising. It’s not how I define myself.”

  I nodded shyly, still unsure what else to say.

  “I mean you don’t want to be defined as a widow. And I don’t want to be defined as brain tumor-divorced guy. These are parts of who we are, and they’ve helped shape the kind of people we are today, but they don’t define us. They’re simply one small part of who we are as a whole.”

  I swallowed and nodded again, overcome with another wave of emotion from how deep and methodical he was being. And he was completely right. I didn’t want people labeling me as a widow. I was a widow, but there’s still so much more to me than that. But some people are unable to see past such things. Just like I’m sure some people have a hard time seeing past the fact that Derrick is barely thirty-one and already divorced, or that he had a brain tumor.

  “I see more of you than just those small parts,” I said softly.

  “And I see more of you as well.”

  I took a deep breath and pushed the threatening tears away. “Your ex-wife, she doesn’t deserve you anyway. You’re too good for her.”

  His laugh was thick and husky in his throat as he rolled me onto my back. “And what about you? Are you too good for me?”

  A sigh escaped me as I lifted my hips up to meet his, wrapping my legs around his waist and letting my heel fall into the crevice of his butt cheeks. “I think we’re good for each other. We’re licking each other’s wounds.”

  A wicked laugh in his chest had my core quivering. “Well, I’d much rather lick something else… but first…” He reached beneath his pillow and pulled out the two silk scarves I’d bought at the market last night. Oh goody!

  I gave him a mock look of surprise. “And what exactly do you have planned for those?”

  He lifted my wrists while kneeling up over me, straddling my torso. “I think you know exactly what I have planned, Ms. Valentine. I think you bought these scarves with this exact little scene in mind.” He’d caught me; I totally had. We didn’t have any toys or trinkets to play with, not even a decent paddle, but a little bit of inventive bondage certainly wasn’t out of the question, was it?

  His hands slid up and down my arm, bringing with them the slippery silk. He wrapped one around both my wrists, binding them together, and then securing them both to the headboard. And with one swift, but dirty little kiss, he slipped the second scarf over my eyes.

  “Can you see?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I want to thank you, Piper. Thank you for helping me realize that there are still good, decent, kind women out there. Women with hearts and passions, women who feel. Before you, I’d honestly thought I’d just go through the rest of my life fucking for the sake of an orgasm, but that I’d never be able to trust or let myself open up to anyone again, allow myself to be vulnerable.”

  My chest tightened from his words, while I felt more tears prick behind my eyes. All I could do was swallow, and even that was a challenge.

  His hands started roaming my body, kneading and massaging, warming my skin, though it was already an inferno.

  “I thought Mariah had ruined me. But apparently, she hadn’t. It just took the right kind of woman to show me what real compassion is.”

  “Derrick.” I licked my lips. He couldn’t be about to say what I think he was about to say, could he? We’d only known each other for six days. I mean sure, it’d been a tumultuous six days, with more excitement and adventure than I’d had in my entire twenty-eight years, but…it’d only been a week.

  But he shushed me. “I can’t imagine the kind of pain you’re in right now, Piper. Losing your husband, to be a widow so young. But I’m glad that you’re letting me make you feel good. If that’s all you need, all you want from me, I’m okay with that. Because you make me feel good, too, and I think right now, we both just want to feel good. We both just need to feel good.”

  I’d been so caught up in his words, in the sentiment and emotions that poured from his heart, that I hadn’t even realized he’d slithered down my body and was no longer straddling me. A warm, velvety tongue swept up my folds, and I melted deeper into the mattress. It didn’t matter how many times I’d already come that night, each one was as good, if not better than the last, and I was ready and willing for every one.

  Fingers scissored and swirled inside of me, pumping and coaxing out my release. While his tongue, oh God, that tongue, that exquisite, that diabolical, that magnificent muscle brought me over and over to the brink, only to leave me teetering there, begging (because the man loved it when I begged) for sweet release. But instead, he’d just pull me back from the edge with a little pinch to my butt cheek or a bite to my inner thigh, earning the squeak or girlie whimper from me he craved.

  It was all too much, all too incredible, and then I had a thought, a wonderful thought. It’d only been a week, but I already felt like the man was more than just a fling, more than just a stamp on the passport. He’d opened up to me, laid himself bare, and in turn, I’d done the same. And he knew I liked it rough and a little kinky; it wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? Worst case scenario, he’d say “no,” and we’d drop it and resume, no harm, no foul.

  It was trippy not being able to see anything. All my other senses slowly started becoming more astute. The sound of the bed squeaking beneath my bucking hips, or the random kerfuffle of other tourists in the hallway, a variable smorgasbord of languages and accents. While the smell in the room, thick with sex and the dampness of our clothes as they dried against the radiator, hit me like a runaway train. But despite all those other smells, along with the peanut butter and apples we’d been eating in between my orgasms, was the smell of Derrick. It was always there, fresh and clean and…inviting.

  “Um.” I sighed when his tireless tongue snaked its way between my pussy lips to get at my core.

  “Mhmm?” The hum nearly made me knee him in the skull.

  “H-have you… um… have you ever had anal sex?”

  He stopped. Completely. Oh shit, did I hit a nerve? Was he going to think I was one sick chick, and leave me shackled to the bed, blindfolded and naked, while he packed up and headed home?

  “Yes,” he said, his voice just a breath above a whisper. “Have you?”

  I nodded and licked my lips. “Yeah.”

  “And did you like it?”

  I nodded again, my heart feeling like it was going to leap right out of my chest. I wiggled my butt on the bed; the sheets damp beneath my cheeks, dear God I was a sopping wet mess. “Yeah.” I finally managed to say. “I did… I do.”

  “Hmm. And is that something you want to do tonight?”

  Swallowing, I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. “If you’re interested.”

  I wish I could have seen his face, but I’m pretty sure I could tell what kind of diabolical smile was on those glistening lips. “Then your wish is my command.” He leaped up from his spot on the bed and released my hands from the headboard. They remained tied together, and the blindfold was still over my eyes, so he helped me scramble onto all fours.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His voice a distant purr, he must have been across the room. “Your pretty little ass in the air. Asking to be taken, to be punished.”

  Oh, my God…yes, yes, please!

&nb
sp; “Does it need to be punished, Piper?”

  I mewled. “Yes. Please, oh please punish me.” Giving him what he wanted, because he was giving me what I wanted.

  Well holy hell. Thick and warm and nasty, he slipped his tongue in my cleft, licking me from behind. Through my folds until he found my clit, and then back again. Torturing me, teasing me, tormenting me. And I just kept asking for more. And then just to take it a step further, his mouth continued to travel up and up, until he reached my soft rosette. He sucked, and he kissed, and he lapped at my sensitive flesh, my forbidden flesh. Until I was convulsing mess on the bed, having spasms from the ecstasy, from the new sensation, because nobody, not even Ray, had put his mouth on me there before. And it was wicked.

  Just as quick as the tsunami of bliss had come upon me, it vanished, and he pulled his mouth from me, only to replace it with a finger. I pushed out with my muscles to grant him access, and he slipped in easily. Forgotten feelings came flooding back as he filled me, my body’s memory and synapses firing at warp speed as I began bucking into his hand, eager for another finger. He didn’t even have his mouth on me anymore, it was just two fingers in my ass, and damn if I wasn’t close again.

  A hand snaked around in front of me and started working on my clit, while the two fingers in my ass were removed and soon the great push of something longer, something bigger, something more commanding and consuming demanded refuge.

  But then, he stopped and pulled away. I whimpered and tried to crane my neck around to look at him, hoping he wasn’t having second thoughts. I was blindfolded and couldn’t see anything. But I could imagine. I heard a rummaging sound. He was probably looking for something in his bag, a condom maybe? And I bet his sexy ass was up in the air wiggling just slightly while his thick cock lay heavy against his belly and a shiny, delicious looking bead of pre-cum threatened to drip off the crown and onto the floor. I licked my lips, wanting to lap up that liquid, not waste a drop. The rustling noise stopped, and I heard his big man feet pad back across the floor toward me.