by Jo Leigh
“Hold it. I have a beauty mark on my-?”
“Left butt cheek, yes. Didn’t you know? It matches this one.” She tapped the spot on his right cheek.
He touched it, brushing her finger.
“The one on your backside stands out because you’re pale back there. Maybe consider nude sunbathing. Or a tanning bed.”
He lifted his eyebrows. She loved to shock him.
“Come on,” she said, tugging at him.
“Wait a sec.” He stopped dead. “I’m not dropping my pants in public for you to photograph.”
“No problem. We have to go to my place for the thong anyway.”
“Candy, do you realize they’re going to show these photos up there?” He nodded toward the huge screens on stage.
“It’ll be fine. Just your butt and only my underwear. No identifying features. It’s modeling. Come on.”
“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” he said, moving into a trot to keep up with her.
“It’s for a good cause.”
“Good thing you’re not offering swampland. It seems I’m buying whatever you’re selling.”
Once they’d nabbed and photographed a packet of neon condoms and sent the shot to the girls, Candy unlocked the door to the beach house and led Matt inside.
She flipped on the lights, then faced him, cell phone ready. “Okay, show me what you got, big boy.” She was trying for a jokey tone, but her voice shook.
“You said the left cheek?” When she nodded, he turned away, slid his thumb into his trunks and shoved them down, revealing the muscled swell of his gorgeous ass. He looked over his shoulder. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” It was like some hot Calvin Klein ad and she felt such a rush of arousal she could hardly click the picture. In fact, the first one blurred.
“One more,” she said, holding her breath and stilling her shaking long enough to snap the shot.
She showed it to him. “Like I said. I’m the only one who can tell it’s you.”
“You can tell?” he said gruffly.
“How could I forget how you look naked?” she breathed, swaying closer.
No, no, no. Stick to the goal-get the shots, then go.
“Hold this while I get my thong.” She handed him the phone, then went to paw through her suitcase for the novelty underwear, which she waved at Matt. “I’ll put this on and be right back.”
“I’ll wait,” he said slowly, one hand fisting at his side, the other holding the camera.
The moment that had started out so matter-of-fact was now a rising tide of heat that lifted Candy off her feet. She could see in Matt’s eyes he felt the same.
They were all alone in the house and nearly naked. SyncUp seemed far away. Everything in her was demanding she do something about this before she burst into flames on the spot.
She rushed to the bathroom, slammed the door and leaned on it, her heart in her throat, fighting for air and some trace of good sense, which seemed to have fled the scene.
She had the terrible thought that the near future Magellan had predicted for them was right here, right now.
THIS WAS TOO SURREAL for words. Candy was in the bathroom donning the tiniest strip of fabric known to man so that Matt could take her picture in it. How had he gotten here?
Already, he’d allowed her to photograph his bare ass to be flashed on a huge screen for thousands of strangers.
And he wasn’t sorry. Or not very sorry. Yet.
He wasn’t drunk this time. He’d had wine and sucked a shot of tequila from Candy’s belly, but that had been hours ago. Just in case, he tried standing on one leg and touching his nose. He was sober, all right. No, his problem wasn’t alcohol. It was the wild enzymes that flooded the human brain when it was aroused, ready to fight or flee or ask a girl to marry him.
All because of Candy, that willful whirlwind who had strangers cheerfully whipping off their underwear at her whim.
No wonder he’d ended up here. She was the most charming woman he’d ever met, a ball of energy and fun he wanted to hold on to for dear life.
There was something going on here. Something he didn’t want to miss. He felt himself focus, felt his energy concentrate to a pinpoint of attention. This was his way, he knew, his tendency to push hard toward a goal, not to be deterred until he had what he wanted.
And what he wanted right now was Candy.
Forget SyncUp, forget his good sense, forget his career, his duty. Forget everything but this moment.
Something important was happening to him or at least that’s how it seemed. Before he could close in on whether or not he was delusional, the door opened and there stood Candy.
She seemed to glow, rim-lit somehow. He realized that when he was with her, the world seemed more vivid. He noticed things he usually ignored-the shifting colors of sunset, the grind of sand under his soles, the way the heat of the sun crawled like goose bumps across his shoulders, the blur and shimmer of seaside light and the way her husky laugh lit him up inside.
She wore the white bikini top and, below, a tiny triangle of black cloth with a red X over Marks the Spot in lacy script.
X marks the spot. Yeah. The spot he’d touched last night. He’d held his thumb there and made her moan with pleasure. He wanted to do that again. He wanted to surprise her, please her, make her scream.
Lust surged through him in a wave that threatened to drown him if he didn’t go along for the ride.
“You ready?” she asked, walking closer.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “I’m ready.”
“Your phone?” She smiled tentatively at him, then looked around, spotting her cell phone on the table. “You can use mine.” She handed it to him. “Did you forget why we’re here?” She bit her lip, uncertain.
“Not at all.” He took the phone, but kept watching her, fighting for control, giving restraint one last chance.
“Where do you want me?” she said, her voice shaky.
“Anywhere you want to be.”
She positioned herself with her legs wide, her hands on her hips, most of her body bared to his gaze. “How about here?”
He looked at her through the viewer.
“Can you read the words on the thong? They need to be clear. Maybe take it at eye level?”
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking.” He dropped to his knees, inches away, eye level with the X. His cock jutted outward in his trunks. If she looked down, she’d see.
He realized he wanted her to know what she did to him.
He took the shot, caught up in being so close to her. Her stomach quivered and he picked up her light musk, heady and arousing. He was a strip of cloth away from heaven.
And he was suddenly sick of hell. He’d had it with fighting the flames. Time to put out the fire.
“Enough.” He shut the phone and tossed it to the couch. “Forget the contest and the deal.” He grabbed Candy’s hips and looked up into her face.
Her eyes widened in alarm, but they gleamed too, with the same desire that burned through him.
There were no words now, only actions. He pressed his tongue against her through the fabric.
She quivered against him, sinking down. “What are you doing?”
Making you mine flew through his mind.
“But you can’t…You…oh. Don’t…Oh, yes…”
He nuzzled her, then blew a breath, before moving his tongue up and down over the panties, wet now from his saliva and the juices he could taste, sweet and salty at once.
“We agreeed.” She moaned, grabbing his hair, struggling for balance.
He’d stop if she truly wanted him to. But then she leaned into his mouth and nudged her sex against his lips, asking for more.
Which he was happy to give. He gripped her hips, held her closer, pressed harder with his tongue. She moaned and her thighs trembled a
gainst his cheeks.
He wanted the thong gone, so he tugged it down and ran his tongue over her swollen clit hiding beneath soft curls.
She squealed. “Oh, that is so…oh…oh…don’t…ever…stooop.”
He reached behind her and cupped her bottom, angling her so his tongue could reach her opening. He pressed down the way she’d liked his fingers pushing in last night. He was so hard he was blind to anything but this moment, her body, her musk, her sounds. He wanted inside, too, but first this.
He ran his tongue down her length and reached inside.
“Oh, oh, oh.” She rocked against him and he felt the pulse of her need against his tongue. She was swollen, ready to fly with just a bit more-a slide of his tongue, a burst of hot breath. He gave her both.
She stilled and said his name as if he were everything to her. And for this moment, he wanted to be. He pushed his tongue into her as far as he could. She rocked wildly and cried out, caught on the wave of her release. He held her, stayed with her, felt the rhythmic flutter of her spasms.
When she was done, he kissed her hair, then rose to his feet. Holding her with one arm, he used his other hand to rid himself of his trunks.
Reading what he wanted, Candy gave a little jump, then wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.
He carried her to the closest wall, braced her, opened her and entered her slickness with one hard stroke.
“You feel so good,” she said on a moan.
He thrust up, loving the way she gripped him with her sex and her arms. He cupped her bottom, supporting her as best he could, burying himself deep, never wanting to leave the tight warm space she’d opened to him.
His heart seemed to be pounding a hole in his ribs. He’d become a mindless creature, backing her into a wall to have her. Not civilized, not sensible, completely out of control.
He didn’t care. He had to claim her, make her his.
Their eyes met. Hers glittered with the same frantic need he felt and her breath rasped, as if she fought for air. They were in this together, this crazy place where they were like that tsunami of liquor in each other’s bloodstream-gushing, rushing, sweeping away everything in its path.
His climax approached. He tightened, then paused, letting the feeling build, waiting to see where Candy was.
“Don’t stop…I’m…there,” she said, locking her knees around him. When he thrust again, she said his name and he smiled into her hair.
They shuddered and shook together. Spilling into her, he let go of a tension he hadn’t realized he’d carried. For a blinding second, he felt free, light as air, and he realized he wanted to laugh out loud.
He lifted her away from the wall. She let her arms flop over his back and panted near his ear.
“Where’s your bed?” he murmured to her.
“The foldout,” she gasped. “But let’s borrow one upstairs.”
He turned for the stairs.
“Wait,” she said. “Bend down.”
He did and she scooped up the phone. “I’ve got to send the shots to Ellie and Sara.”
He was amazed she could manage any task at all, but while he carried her to the first bedroom and yanked down the spread, she thumbed away at the phone.
He laid her down on the bed.
“There,” she said on a sigh, extending her arm to the side and letting the phone drop. “I hope we win.”
“Who cares? All I want is you.” He took off her bikini top, cupped her breast and ran his tongue around each nipple while she squirmed under him.
After a few more seconds, she gripped his face and with what seemed like a tremendous effort, lifted him away from her breasts. “What are we doing, Matt?” she moaned.
“I can’t fight this anymore.” He kissed her sweet mouth, hiding from his conscience in the rush of rightness he felt whenever he embraced her.
“I know. I feel the same way, but this is wrong. We have to figure out how it can be right.” She seemed close to tears.
He forced himself to calm down, to think. “Okay. We know the danger. We can’t let this change anything at work. Can you do that, do you think?”
Her eyes flew across his face and he could see her mind working frantically, assessing, deciding. “I think so. This is vacation, right?”
“And I’m not myself, remember? I’m Fun Guy?” It sounded ridiculous, but he’d say anything to keep her naked. “What happens in Malibu…” So lame.
But she didn’t call him on it. In fact, she smiled. “And our deal stays the same. You’ll consider my marketing plan on its merits? Keep this, what we’re doing, separate?”
“Sure. Of course.” He saw the doubt in her eyes. “Let’s add this to the deal. You’re teaching me to be more social.”
“Come on. I’m giving you sex lessons?” She tilted her head, grinning. Good. She was accepting this. Her body softened.
“Please,” she said in a low, teasing voice. “That tongue thing…whew…you’ve earned your PhD.”
“Everyone needs a refresher.” He kissed her deep, letting his tongue explore the soft insides of her mouth. “Be gentle with me.”
She laughed, a throaty chuckle that turned his insides liquid. This woman knew fun in every fiber of her being. He could learn from her. He kissed her neck and ran his fingers across her nipple until she shivered and moaned.
“So, we’re getting it out of our systems?” She seemed to struggle to get out the words, to work out the rationale.
“Completely.”
“And when we get back, everything’s the same.”
“Absolutely.” He knew he’d say yes to anything right now. They’d made it sound simple, but he wasn’t so sure. “This is a unique situation, a phenomenon.”
“What? Like the aurora borealis?”
“Exactly. Like a comet visible only once in a lifetime.”
She laughed. “If you start on the seven wonders of the world, I’m leaving.”
“Whatever gets you in.” He’d made it sound like a joke, but that was truly how he felt.
“I’m in,” she said softly, then slowly rose to straddle him. “And now I want you there. In. Me.”
“Just what I was thinking.” He found his way into her body and it was everything he wanted at the moment. Their being together was like some natural wonder-a startling comet that zipped by so fast you wondered if you’d seen it at all.
11
THE NEXT MORNING, CANDY woke early to the sound of Matt breathing in her ear. She smiled, enjoying the warm heaviness of his body overlapping hers. She pressed her nose against his forearm and inhaled deeply of the cozy smell of his skin.
After deciding on their fling, they’d returned to his place and made love over and over. She thought about how Matt had tirelessly tracked her pleasure each time. At midnight, they’d stopped for sustenance-an entire box of HoHos and a quart of Dr. Pepper-then engaged in a pillow fight that collapsed into soft, slow lovemaking. She felt so good with him, so close to him. This had to be okay.
A vacation fling was the perfect solution, wasn’t it?
She fought the part of her that felt weak and defeated, that knew she’d succumbed to her spoiled ways, chosen short-term fun over long-term investment, done what made her feel good, not what was good for her.
Except when she looked over at Matt, she experienced such a rush of happiness she had to believe this was right. She believed in living life fully, seizing experiences, right? This was too intense to pass up.
Matt would still look at her Ledger Lite plan, after all, and she would still teach him networking. And wasn’t this better than returning to SyncUp with lust still throbbing between them?
But what if they didn’t get past it? What if they still wanted each other desperately? What if this changed everything? Her stomach burned at the thought.
They had to finish it here. Had to. She tried to calm hersel
f down with a reality check. Once Matt got back to SyncUp, Fun Guy would disappear. The old Matt had been resistible enough. And, workaholic that he was, Matt would naturally turn his intense focus away from her and back to the job. The flame would be out like a windblown pilot light.
She knew how to prove she was still in control of herself. Today, she would work. They had no festival-event obligations, so she’d go back to the beach house and flesh out the Ledger Lite marketing plan, then invite Matt over to see it. Work, then play. Perfect. Sensible. Proof that the new, more mature Candy was still the boss.
She wiggled out from under Matt without waking him, leaving him a note that promised a call when she was ready for him to see what she’d done.
At the beach house, she tiptoed onto the porch only to find Sara carefully sliding her key in the lock, hair tousled, shoes in hand, wearing an oversize T-shirt, clearly trying to sneak in soundlessly.
Candy motioned her away from the door. “Looks like you had an interesting night,” she whispered, nodding at Sara’s clothes. At the scavenger hunt, Sara had had on the red halter dress Candy had loaned her. “Wasn’t Drew wearing that last night?”
“Yes. It’s his.” Sara blushed, then fumbled in her bag for Candy’s dress, which she held out. “Thanks so much. I’ll have it cleaned for you.”
“No, you won’t. If it helped you end up like that-” she nodded at the shirt, which hit Sara mid-thigh “-it’s worth every crease.” Candy shoved the dress into her bag.
“So what happened?” she whispered.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“And I’ve got coffee.”
They whirled to find Ellie in the open doorway holding out two steaming mugs of coffee. “It’s my blend, girls. Come inside and tell me everything. I’ve got warm ruglah, too.”
Candy and Sara took the coffee and followed Ellie into the kitchen, where the cinnamon smell of the pastry mingled with the rich Guatemalan-Columbian blend Ellie favored.
They wiggled onto bar stools and began talking, practically at once. First, they discussed the outcome of the Hot Shot contest. They’d been beaten by a team that Sara had caught faking a birthmark. They agreed to watch out for those guys.
