Never Settle

by Kate Richards

  “Shureee.” He frowned, eyes bleary and blinking.

  “Is it true you sleep with women once and then never call again?”

  He smirked then. “Not you, Arabellie.”

  “Really?”

  “Nah, I’d do you two or three times. You’re a real hot chick.”

  Will chuckled and grabbed his arm. “Alcohol, the honesty drug. Night, Bella.”

  “Night, guys.” They stumbled away into the distance before she thought of something. “Will?” she called.

  He turned, nearly letting his blitzed buddy fall to the sand again. “Yeah?”

  “Want to run with me in the morning?”

  “See you at seven?”

  “Perfect.” They’d have a good run, then who knew? Choices didn’t have to be hard.

  Chapter Five

  Will stood on his porch, stretching, and trying to suppress serial yawns. Earl’s drunken brain had hatched a plan to wait for him to leave then go visit “Arabellie” and “show her what I’m made of.” Which, last night, was mostly rum, tequila, and attitude. Luckily, he was brain dead enough to share his secret plan.

  Will had no one to blame but himself for encouraging the guy to get so drunk. He’d known him for years, knew he didn’t hold his alcohol well. He hadn’t realized, however, that past staggering and posturing lay belligerence. Will hung out until he passed out on his bed then tucked him in and sat on the couch for another hour to be sure he wouldn’t wake up and head over to annoy “Arabellie.”

  All of which added up to a short night’s sleep. He didn’t need to be at work for a few hours, but had no intention of giving up a chance to spend time with Bella. Lifting his mug from the railing, he drained the last of the strong coffee he’d brewed to get going. Albeit a few minutes behind schedule. Today’s agenda was pretty heavy. After their run, he needed to go to the bar, which stood some distance away from the restaurant pier, and make it ready to open. Then a couple of meetings, lunch with the assistant manager, and man the bar all afternoon. They closed the bar at sunset in the slow season, leaving him free for dinner with Bella, if she’d agree. Then…then he knew what he wanted to happen, but, in the end, it was up to her.

  And at some point in there, he had to explain things to Earl. About Bella and the black eye he’d likely found upon waking. The man had walked right into the edge of a door and bounced off it. It hurt even to remember.

  Hibiscus Cottage stood only about fifty yards from his place, although the thick foliage between the two structures gave each privacy. Approaching along the beach, he saw her already on the beach in gray running shorts and a fitted rose-colored tank top. She’d braided her hair this morning, tight back again. If he had his way, she’d wear it loose and blowing in the breeze all the time. Not that her hair choices were his to make. Except in bed. Then he’d spread the golden strands over the pillow and rub his cheek against their softness before turning his attention to learning everything about her from head to toe.

  She had the smallest, softest feet. That much he knew already. And sensitive. Although not a foot man, he’d massage her all day to see the bliss in her expression. And he could span her ankles with his thumb and forefinger. He still had to explore the upper 80 percent of her, though.

  Facing away from him, she bent to stretch, and he eyed that fine ass. Whew. He hated to change the view, but didn’t want to startle her either, so he called out, “Good morning, Miss Bella.”

  She straightened and faced him, a friendly smile on her lips. “Well, good morning, Will. I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “Island time.” Closing the distance between them, he grasped her upper arms and pulled her close for a kiss. He only intended a quick peck, but the moment their lips touched, he burst into flame. She smelled so good, like peaches and cream, and tasted like fresh mint. Before he plunged his tongue into her mouth, he paused. “You okay with this?”

  “Weren’t we going for a run?” she asked.

  He kissed her nose and her cheeks and hovered over her mouth again. “Do you want to?”

  Skimming his hands up her sides, he urged her arms over her head and brought her tank top with them. She wore a gray cotton running bra, which should have been not at all sexy, but the nipples pressing out the cotton fabric made him instantly rock-hard. When she went to lower her arms, he held them straight up. “Keep them there, just for now, Bella.”

  She whimpered. “Someone might see us out here.”

  “Mmm hmm.” He buried his lips in the hollow at the base of her throat, savoring the heat while he cupped her breasts in his palms, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. “They might.” But they wouldn’t. Only Earl’s room lay farther along the beach, and he’d be out for hours yet.

  “Ohhh.” She arched her back, encouraging him, and he trailed his lips into her cleavage, drawing a breath of her sweet scent. “Yess.”

  “I think you might have a little bit of exhibitionism in you.” He had no problem with the fantasy. If it made her happy. And hot.

  “No, I don’t,” she protested, but her heart pounded under his lips, and he decided to take things a little bit further.

  “Your nipples say otherwise. These things could cut glass, Bella. Can I see them?” Without waiting for an answer, he worked the tight fabric over her head as well, leaving her naked from the waist up, then eased her hands to her sides. “Such pretty breasts. I have to taste one.” Lifting a soft handful, he stuck his tongue out and gave a long lick over her dusky-rose tip. “I thought so.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Sweet as candy. I have to try the other one.” This time he drew it into his mouth and sucked softly, watching her reaction. Her eyes flicked closed, and she buried her hands in his hair, holding on. His scalp stung, but the bit of pain only encouraged him. He focused on her breasts while her breathing grew erratic, and she tightened her grip on the strands of his hair. He might end up bald, but they’d both be happy. When she gave a long groan, he pushed it further.

  “Now the shorts.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t protest. The vixen opened her eyes and shoved the running shorts down over her hips to the sand, leaving her in tiny bikini panties with bows on the hips. As he watched, she tugged a ribbon on each side and parted her legs slightly. The pink polka-dot fabric joined the rest of her clothes. She glowed in the early sunlight, and he hungrily took in her petite form. She might be short, but everything about her was in proportion and the essence of sexy. With a muttered curse, he scooped her up in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.

  “You may not mind if anyone sees you naked, but I do,” he growled.

  Arabella clung to Will as he strode up through the patio area. “There isn’t anyone around,” she gasped. The only person who’d passed her house in three days besides Will and the housekeeper who came around lunchtime was Earl. “Is Earl coming?” She didn’t want him to see this.

  “Listen. And open the door. I’ve got my hands full.” She twisted the knob and pushed the French door open, straining to listen.

  In the background, the putt putt of a motorboat approached. The fantasy of being seen held far more appeal than the reality. “Oh no.”

  “Oh no is right. This is a private area, and nobody should be this close to the beach. That was not one of our boats.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” He let her slide to her feet and moved to stand in the doorway. “Whoever it is, they’re going away. But since we’re inside, and you’re naked, what shall we do?”

  “I’m not really in the mood to run anymore.” When Will turned to face her, she refused to hide her body. Let him look his fill. She’d rarely made love with anyone in full daylight, but she couldn’t hide a thing if they were going to. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “Breakfast?” He closed the French door and stepped closer to her. “Have you eaten?”

  Arabella took
a step backward. “No, but I’m not hungry. Are you?”

  He followed, and, with an extra stride, was close enough to reach out and close a hand around her wrist. “Yes, but not for eggs and toast. Is that your bedroom behind you?”

  Every time he touched her, her pulse surged and she had trouble remembering how to breathe. “The bed’s not made.”

  “Too early for maid service.” He continued forward, propelling her through the doorway. “Besides, I like the idea of climbing into a bed still warm and rumpled from your sleeping in it.”

  “I…I’m pretty sure it’s no longer warm…”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. “Shh. My turn for a fantasy.”

  How much of a fantasy could her messy bed be? She shrugged. “Okay. But I’m warning you, I lost an earring in there somewhere last night, so if you get punctured, it’s on you.”

  He gave her a gentle push, and she landed on the edge of the bed. “Warning noted.”

  It took all she had not to cross her arms over her breasts or spread her palms in her lap, but instead she sat up straight and gave him a look she hoped conveyed a dare. “I think it’s my turn to see what’s on offer here.”

  “On offer?”

  “I watch a lot of BBC. Now, strip, bartender. Before I change my mind.” To her great delight, and relief, he didn’t laugh at her. If he had, she’d have thrown him out and called the trip a celibate experience. But his eyes, dark-blue as it turned out, lit with an interior flame, and he didn’t take off his T-shirt. He shredded it off. And he didn’t have a six-pack. He had an eight-pack. Scattered hairs on his chest failed to hide his bronze nipples.

  Not one flaw, so far. Her body-image issues rumbled deep within her, but before they could put in a full appearance, Will dropped trou, and a whole other set of issues appeared. Maybe not issues. Whoa. “You planned to run down the beach without underwear?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I pulled them down together to save time. Worried about my junk?”

  “No,” she breathed, reaching out a single finger to smooth the drop of clear precum on his impressive equipment. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.”

  This adventure just got real. Sure, it was easy to say let’s have an affair, no strings, with the first handsome guy she saw then go home and never look back. And who better than a bartender at a resort? He lived on an island thousands of miles from her. Once she got on that plane to go home, she’d never run into him at the office or in the corner deli.

  No. Just as she’d planned, she’d go back to work, to her career, alone. Perfect, right?

  “Bella?”

  Maybe not. Maybe she didn’t have it in her to spend the better part of two weeks locked in intimate embrace with a man she had virtually nothing in common with but who made her blood boil then walk away. Even if he could make her every fantasy come true.

  “Bella, you’re staring at my dick. Is something wrong? Do I have an ugly skin condition?”

  Heck no. And if she had to balance just under two weeks of time locked in this man’s embrace with running the damn beach three times a day? Arabella Carmichael did something then she’d never done without coaxing in the past.

  Closing her fist around the exceedingly rigid penis bobbing in front of her face, she bent forward and took it in her mouth.

  “Oh my god, Bella.” He rocked toward her then away and back again. “You don’t have to do this yet.”

  She hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard, bobbing up and down in time to a rhythm in her head. Instead of feeling awkward and kind of hating it, she liked it. He was clean, a little salty, maybe. Better now than after their run, she suspected.

  “If you keep that up, I’ll be…yes. Like that. Right there.” Will rested his hands on her head then grabbed her braid and held tight, forcing her into a little different rhythm. “I really think you should…”

  She scraped her teeth over the ridge at the base of the bulbous head then ran them down the shaft until he bumped the back of her throat. Fighting her gag impulse, she held it there with enough bite at the base to convince him not to move. He pulled hard on her braid and she relented, eased back on the pressure and glided back up until only a fraction of an inch remained in her mouth then dove deep again. Up. Down. In. Out. Varying the actions of her teeth, tongue, and lips to keep him on edge without letting him fall over the edge into orgasm. As if she knew what she was doing.

  With him, she did. Somehow, she interpreted his breathing and the way he pulled on her braid and everything about him, taking cues on how to move. Before, she’d always felt a little awkward, as if the guy was in charge, and she followed. Not at all her personality in any other part of life. Maybe why sex took a backseat to the rest.

  If it had ever been like this, she’d have been an addict. What about this man made her feel free enough to make the first move? Well, almost the first. But definitely the first serious one.

  Massaging his sac, she felt the moment it contracted and let him jerk her back. “Not yet, Arabella. I want to be inside you the first time.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “You were inside me.” She licked her lips, and he shuddered.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Scoot over.”

  Arabella moved into the middle of the mattress and lay on her back, no longer worried about the rumpled sheets and blanket pushed to the foot of the bed. Will joined her and propped himself up on an elbow.

  “I thought you wanted inside me?”

  “What’s the rush, Bella? We have all day.”

  Chapter Six

  They didn’t quite have all day, and at some point someone would come find Will if he didn’t show up or call to let someone know his plans had changed, but he’d left his cell phone at his place and he didn’t want to remind Arabella she had one. He didn’t want either of them to remember the outside world at all.

  Not with her lying there next to him, a shaft of sunlight cutting across her sweetly curved belly. He lived here and did the job he did specifically so he could enjoy life, to live on “island time.” If he wanted his time in six-minute billable segments, he’d go back to practicing law. Right now he had a smart, sexy woman just over half his height—okay, small exaggeration—laid out like dessert, and nothing better to do than make love to her. Better being the operative word.

  “Sit up a minute.” While her braid had made for a great handle while she had her mouth around him—making him revise his thought her hair should never be bound—he wanted to see it free. “Face away from me.”

  Arabella gave him a confused look but did as he asked, sitting cross-legged in front of him. Will worked the band from the bottom of her braid and unwound the strands until he could smooth her hair over her shoulders. The view from this angle held charms of its own. Her straight-backed posture showed her narrow waist, the flare of her hips, and the smooth length of her back.

  He traced the bikini lines, smiling at the pale strip where the bra top had shielded her from the solar rays. “You’ve been enjoying the beach.”

  “I’ve been lying in the sun. I enjoy working. But HR and my boss forced me to take some of my accrued vacation days and sent me to this resort.”

  “So you’re not experiencing any pleasure in this paradise?” He kissed her ear. “None at all?”

  She gave a soft sigh and leaned back into him. “I’m a workaholic. A happy workaholic.”

  “So”—he dropped a kiss on her shoulder—“no tension here?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “But what executive doesn’t have some tension?”

  “Agreed.” His fingers replaced his lips, knowing she probably ignored the painful tightness every day. He had, when his high-pressure job locked his neck so tight he could barely turn it. When he’d lived on antacids and had to have two or three cocktails to unwind enough to sleep at night. Working loose a difficult knot in her upper back, he winced. “But doesn’t it hurt?”

  She turned to him, eyes showing more of her soul
than she probably realized. “It doesn’t matter. I have to keep going. I’ve worked too hard and too long.”

  “Okay.” He wanted to make love to her, ached to do it, and his cock throbbed for her, but he wanted her right there with him. Relaxed and in the moment. Not that she hadn’t seemed to be when she deep-throated him, but the moment he touched her shoulders, he knew he had to help her unkink a little before she could truly enjoy what he had to share. Pleasure had many levels, and he wanted to give her all of them. “Lie down on your belly and give yourself permission to relax.”

  “But I have to—”

  “You don’t ‘have to’ anything. That’s not what our time together is all about.” Will urged her over then straddled her hips. His cock brushing the crack of her bottom nearly drove him past his desire to take care of her first, but he would not treat her any way but the way she deserved. Like a queen. “Let me take care of you.”

  Starting at her neck, he massaged the tightness, not moving on to another area until he felt the muscles melt into softness under his touch. At first, she tensed more, but he spoke to her in a quiet voice as he worked, encouraging her to go with it. “Trust me. I want to make this good for both of us. You’ve already given to me. Let me return the favor.”

  “This is an awkward pose for that.”

  “It’s a perfect pose for learning your body. After I finish with your back, I want to learn your front.”

  She gulped and he chuckled. “You have a dirty mind.”

  “And you’re sitting on my back, naked, with your penis in a very vulnerable area. Lots of trust here, Will.”

  “Relax.”

  By the time he reached her lower back, she’d gone limp under him. He slid lower, so he sat on her upper thighs to work on the muscles that bore the weight of the body every time a person sat. And which carried far more strain. He tried to give her buttocks the attention they needed, but their smooth roundness gave him other ideas. His cock twitched.