Trista Ann Michaels

by Wicked Lies

  And don’t forget Marcus’s touch.

  She glanced up and noticed him stand. He reached up and grabbed the doorframe, leaning his hips forward slightly to stretch out his back.

  “Feeling cramped?” she asked as his eyes met hers across the cabin.

  One side of his lips lifted into a half smile. “Sort of.”

  He stepped to the door and opened it, allowing the warm tropical breeze to filter in. With it came the salty smell of the ocean and the sweet scent of flowers. She inhaled deeply, and then sighed as she let it out.

  Marcus looked back at her and she felt the heat of a blush move over her cheeks for what must have been the fifth time since they’d taken off. “It smells wonderful,” she said with a shrug.

  “That’s nothing. Wait till you get up here.”

  Sinclair smiled and reached down to slide her laptop into the case. She grabbed her things and made her way toward the warm, sea air pushing through the open doorway. Marcus stood by the door, waiting for her just like he always did. He never let her disembark without him. He was always close by, always watching out for her.

  With a smile as she approached, he reached out his hand and took the laptop case from her. “I’ll get that.”

  She turned to head down the stairs when a young man barreled up to greet them with enough enthusiasm to drown them. “You must be Mr. Rogers and Ms. Sheridan. The tower let me know you were landing.”

  Marcus nodded. “That would be us.”

  “Wonderful. If you’ll just follow me, concierge will get your luggage and meet us at your cabin.”

  He turned to walk back down the stairs, expecting them to follow. She pinned Marcus with a glare. “Cabin? As in one?”

  Marcus shrugged and with a wave of his hand, indicated she should follow the young man. “He misspoke I’m sure. If not, we’ll work it out at the front desk.”

  Unfortunately, the front desk wasn’t much help. Sinclair stared at the young man behind the check-in desk in shock. She and Marcus were in the same room?

  “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “There was only one room reserved for you, but it does have two bedrooms. It’s one of the larger cabins on the eastern side of the island. Sunrises there are unreal—”

  “I don’t care about the sunrise,” Sinclair snapped, interrupting him. She glanced toward Marcus for help, but he wasn’t any. Instead, he stood off to the side, his arms crossed, one hand over his mouth, his eyes narrowed in thought.

  “Well? Are you going to say something or just stand there?” she asked.

  Marcus’s eyebrow rose in surprise as he dropped his hand. “And just what is it you expect me to do or say? They either have it or they don’t, Sinclair.”

  She sighed and he grabbed her elbow, pulling her off to the side. Her skin heated where he touched and she frowned down at her arm. Marcus must have thought she didn’t want him touching her because he removed his hand immediately and her heart dropped to her stomach. She liked his touch.

  “We’ve traveled together before. We’re not strangers. You know me. I’m not going to rape you in the middle of the night.”

  “I know—”

  “And besides,” he added, his lips twitching into a sexy grin that made her knees weak. “It’s not like I’m asking you to play a game of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’.”

  Sinclair rolled her eyes and turned back to the desk.

  “Ah, come on. That was funny,” he called after her and she had to fight hard not to let her lips move from the frown. She wanted to smile, to giggle. Marcus could see the humor in this but for her it was just too close for comfort. She was attracted to him—seriously attracted. She dreamed about him, masturbated to her thoughts about him, and the last thing she wanted was for him to figure that out. They worked together. Emotions stayed out of the workplace. Period. This job was too good to lose.

  “The cabin will be fine,” she said, filing his name to memory for her notes later. Would her boss find this as amusing as Marcus had? She glanced over at him as he strolled back to the counter. “Did you ask about a mechanic?”

  “Yes,” he said with a nod. “He’s going to check the plane out and get back with me before dinner.”

  She nodded and signed the slip the young man slid across to her. Once settled and keys in hand, they headed out to the parking lot and the small golf cart that would take them to their cabin. Sinclair climbed into the back and Marcus jumped in next to her instead of sitting in the front with the driver like she assumed he would.

  “Sinclair, I’m sorry,” he said softly and she turned to look at him in surprise.

  “For what?”

  “For what I said. That was out of line.”

  Sinclair shook her head. “No it wasn’t. It was actually funny. I was just pissed off about the room.”

  “It’ll be fine.” He reached over to pat her knee, giving it a little squeeze before removing his hand.

  The slight touch made her stomach jerk and she inwardly chastised herself for even thinking what she was. As they made their way through the narrow, tropical paths, Sinclair took a moment to enjoy the scenery and the warm weather. It was so pretty here and she understood why her boss had bought it.

  Off the side of the road was another golf cart that had come to a stop beneath the shade of a tree. In the front seat was a couple making out, but as they got closer, Sinclair realized they were doing more than making out. They were having sex.

  The woman straddled the man’s lap, her hips wiggled wildly against him. Her head had fallen back and her breasts were bouncing with her movements. The man’s hands were on her waist, holding her against him as she rode him fast and wild. Sinclair gasped but couldn’t look away.

  As they passed the couple, her gaze wandered back to Marcus, who sat watching her with an amused expression on his face. She quickly turned to look out the other side of the cart, embarrassed he’d caught her staring.

  Just that quick image of the couple having sex sent her hormones into overdrive and she imagined her and Marcus in that same position. His hands would fondle her breasts as his cock filled her to her womb. Every inch of her flesh tingled with the image. Even her nipples tightened behind her bra, making her shift slightly in her seat.

  She’d never seen him naked from the waist down, but she’d bet her last dollar he was huge. He had to be; he was huge everywhere else.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t research this place before you left,” Marcus said with amusement.

  Sinclair sighed softly. “I thought it was just another private island like the ones he’d bought before.”

  “Well. It is a private island … for BDSM enthusiasts.”

  Sinclair closed her eyes. Son of a bitch.

  Chapter Three

  “This is so not funny.” Sinclair paced the open living area of their cabin.

  Marcus kept chuckling as he watched her pace. Why was she so nervous? He knew why he was. He wanted her, bad, and he was worried how all this was going to play out.

  Her shoulder-length blond hair sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through the open French doors and his hands itched to grab a handful and pull her to him so he could taste her; every inch of her. Her mouth, her cream, he wanted to taste it all and make her scream in pleasure.

  “He sent us to a BDSM resort,” she snapped. “What on earth was he thinking?”

  “That you would check it out with your usual professionalism.”

  “Oh, yeah. My professionalism,” she replied sarcastically. “I showed great professionalism at the front desk.”

  Marcus grinned. She’d be seriously pissed if she knew the cabin had been his doing; so had the maintenance for the plane. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. He just wanted a reason to keep her here for a while. At least long enough he could seduce her. A few more images like the one they’d seen on the way here and seduction would be easy.

  He hadn’t missed the way her nipples had hardened behind her bra, or the way her eyes had
widened, then turned to a darker shade of green, as desire raced through her body. Sinclair was a spitfire and he’d bet that same passion carried over to the bedroom and he was dying to find out—dying to feel her curvy body next to his, feel her legs wrapped around his waist as he sank into her.

  He shook his head at the direction his thoughts were taking. If he didn’t settle down, his bulge would give him away.

  “Mistakes happen all the time,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

  She walked over to the door and leaned against the doorjamb. With her arms crossed in front of her, she stared out toward the beach which was just steps away.

  He walked up behind her and put his hands gently against her shoulders. She stiffened at first, then relaxed as he gave them a soft squeeze.

  “Do you suppose they’ll be more of that around the resort?” she asked.

  “More of what?”

  “Public sex.”

  He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Okay, that was a lie. He really did know, but he didn’t want to tell her that. Not yet anyway. God, he was going to hell for this, but he’d boxed himself into a hole that no matter how he worked himself out, the end would probably be disastrous.

  He had to do it. Sinclair was all he could think about anymore. Leaning down, he inhaled the flowery scent of her hair and had to fight the urge to kiss her neck. He closed his eyes and let out a tense sigh. She hadn’t moved. She still stood in front of him, his hands on her shoulders, the heat of her skin warming his chest. Her head turned slightly as though she wanted to look at him over her shoulder.

  Was he scaring her? Or was she as turned on by him as he was by her?

  “I’m starving,” he whispered, trying to break the suddenly steamy mood.

  He wanted her, but he wanted to wait till the right time. When she was freaked out by everything that had happened was most definitely not the right time.

  She giggled and turned to face him. She was so close he could see the gold flecks in her eyes. Long dark brown lashes fluttered slightly as she gazed up at him with eyes so damn dreamy he could get lost in them. She appeared slightly surprised as her lips parted and she drew in a quick breath of air, apparently whatever she was going to say forgotten. God, he knew that feeling.

  His cock did an immediate salute of attention and he almost cringed. Lifting his right hand, he fingered a blonde curl. “I don’t know about you, but I could go for a burger or something.”

  “Um…” she murmured and stepped back. “Yeah, I could go for something to eat, too.”

  He smiled slightly as he realized disappointment shined in her eyes. She’d wanted him to kiss her. His smile widened when she moved to grab her purse off the counter that separated the small kitchen from the living area. If she wanted a kiss, he’d definitely give her a kiss.

  But not yet. He’d make her wait for it.

  His gaze wandered lazily down her curvy figure and his fingers twitched to skim over those curves. He liked fuller-figured women. She wasn’t a stick figure, she was a woman with hills and valleys and hips that swayed seductively as she walked. He would guess her size to be about a nine, maybe an eleven. Her breasts were definitely Ds. As he studied her long-sleeve top he realized she wasn’t dressed for this weather or this resort for that matter.

  “You might want to change before we go eat, sweetheart. I don’t think you’ll be very comfortable in that.”

  She glanced down at her herself in surprise. “Crap,” she said in frustration. “I forgot.”

  It made Marcus feel good he could distract her that much. “I can wait.”

  She started to turn toward one of the two identical bedrooms, but stopped and let her eyes wander down his body. His traitorous cock immediately responded and he plopped down on the arm of the chair closest to him to hide the fact.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She raised an eyebrow and he almost chuckled. “Going to dinner in your uniform?”

  He shrugged. He wasn’t, but he thought he would tease her just for the fun of it. “Why not? Women like men in uniform and I have a feeling people of the opposite sex might be nice to have close at hand in this resort.”

  Her lips twitched. “Or a drawer full of toys.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  She grinned and turned to walk away. “Then you don’t have the right toys.”

  “If you think toys are better, then you obviously haven’t been with the right man,” he called after her.

  His gaze dropped to the sway of her ass as she made her way to the other bedroom. His cock hardened even more as he imaged her using some of those toys. Or better yet, him using some of those toys on her himself during foreplay.

  He could spend hours pleasuring her with toys. Then, when they’d exhausted all of those, he’d use himself. His lips twitched slightly as he imagined her screams. God, if she was half as good as he suspected she was, he’d be in heaven. Sinclair was passionate, fiery, and had a way about her movements that just shouted sex.

  Rubbing his hand across his lips, he decided to shove those thoughts aside for now, otherwise they’d never make it to the damn restaurant.

  * * * *

  What the hell was I thinking?

  She tugged at the short skirt of her sundress and regretted her decision not to wear panties. At the time, she’d thought it might be fun, knowing she wasn’t wearing them and thinking what it would be like for him to slide his hand up her thigh and under the skirt. They flirted all the time. The things they’d said to one another at the cabin hadn’t been anything different than they’d said to each other before.

  This time, though, they were staying in the same room, just feet away from each other. This time, there was no hiding or running back to her room to lock the door.

  It would be so inappropriate to sleep with him. She knew it. He should know it. He was her transportation. If things went bad, the next trip would just be too weird. She liked this job too much to jeopardize it, even for a weekend romp with one of the sexiest men she’d ever met.

  She glanced over at him as they followed the waiter to their table out on the terrace. He’d changed into Dockers and a short-sleeve shirt. The warm Caribbean breeze ruffled his hair and she clenched her fingers to keep from smoothing it back into place.

  She should be realistic. He probably went for more skinny women with perfect figures, not flawed ones like hers. She wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t model thin either. She had curves, she had boobs and she had hips.

  As the two of them took a seat, Sinclair tried to remember what type of women he liked. He usually stayed with her, making sure she was never alone. In the past, she’d appreciated it. Here, she had a feeling the constant attached-at-the-hip mentality would get them in bed together before they realized what hit them.

  She glanced around at their surroundings to try and take her mind off Marcus and bedrooms. Their table was nestled in a dimly lit, secluded corner. A candle flickered within a crystal holder and tropical plants surrounded them on three sides, giving them more privacy than she would’ve expected. Through the leaves, she could see and hear the ocean as the waves crashed against the sand. The whole thing was incredibly romantic, and she began to feel just a smidge uncomfortable and uncertain.

  Thank God everyone in the restaurant appeared to be on their best behavior and dressed. She wasn’t sure she could handle another display of public sex without jumping Marcus’s bones. Just thinking about the couple she’d witnessed earlier made her wet. Her friend Karen would be on her back laughing her ass off if she knew what kind of resort she’d ended up in.

  Is this what her hermit boss was into? Or did he just see it as a good investment? It would’ve been nice to have a head’s up about what went on here. She wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but she would’ve liked to be better prepared. A vibrator wasn’t going to cut it here.

  Not by a long shot.

  Cha
pter Four

  Marcus tried hard to keep his mind off sex, but he was failing miserably. Through the leaves of the plants surrounding him, he could see couples off in the distance. They were gathered around the pool, soft torch light cast their bodies in a golden glow as they mingled. Some moved sexually against others. Some stood on the edges, watching anxiously for the orgy to begin, which is usually how those pool parties ended. The faint sound of drum beats echoed the sound of his own pounding heart as he stared at Sinclair across the table.

  He’d never wanted anyone so fucking badly in his life.

  The short, red and white sundress brought out her complexion and showcased legs that were long and tan. Her breasts pressed against the material and he imagined they would fill his hands perfectly. Her nipples would be hard against his palms. She tilted her head to the side and he blinked, forcing his gaze to her face. Had she asked something?

  “You’re awfully distracted,” she said.

  If she’d noticed where he’d been staring, she didn’t let on, and he breathed a slight sigh of relief. He wanted to hurry and finish their dinner. The sight of an orgy might be just the thing to get her in the mood. God was going to strike him down for this, but he had a feeling he could use all the help he could get. Sinclair took her job seriously and that meant no sex play with coworkers.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, smiling slightly as he reached for his beer. “I was listening to the music in the distance.”

  She frowned. “Music?” She listened for second then grinned. “Very tribal.”

  Yeah, tribal. “I think it’s coming from the pool area.”

  “They’ve probably got some strip show or orgy going on over there,” she replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

  Marcus almost choked on his shrimp. “Orgy might be fun,” he said just before taking another sip of beer.

  He didn’t miss the heat of a blush move over her cheeks as she lifted her glass of wine and took a sip. He was glad she hadn’t chosen anything stronger than that. He wanted her relaxed, but not drunk.