“Oh goodie,” she enthused, doing her best to tame her hair with her fingertips as he pulled his clothes on. “I’m sure we’re in for a treat.”
Sam’s place was on the other side of a large dune. Over Vicky’s objections, he carried her, cradled in his arms.
She hated the feeling of helplessness, but it was nice too, to have a man take care of her a little.
“See, I told you the place was real,” he gloated. “It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“You got that right,” Vicky muttered as she got a good look at the ramshackle structure of aluminum, driftwood and spare machine parts, including the entire wing of a small plane. “One thing before we go in. If you drop so much as a hint of what we did on the beach, I will have your balls, got it?”
“You can have my balls any time you like but don’t worry, we’ll keep it G-rated. Salty Sam has the best oysters this side of heaven.”
“Really? Because the place looks like hell,” she replied, noting the line of Christmas lights around the sand-blasted windows along with various signs nailed to the walls, including a Restricted Area sign from the Kennedy Space Center.
“I don’t want to ask where they got half this stuff, do I?”
“Nope,” he said setting her on her feet.
The door creaked as it opened. Adjusting her eyes to the dim light, Vicky saw that the inside was just as eclectic as the outside. Yellow light bulbs hung from wires in the ceiling. Paddle fans clacked noisily while Reggae played on an old-fashioned jukebox.
Two old sailors sat in the corner at a slanted table, snoring. Every couple of seconds one would wake up and yell at the other for disturbing his rest.
The bartender greeted Shane. “Look what the devil dragged in. You son of a bitch. Old Davey Jones hasn’t swallowed you down, yet?”
“He did, but hell wouldn’t take me. Sam, this is Miss Victoria. Give her anything she likes, she’s a lady.”
Vicky sure didn’t feel like one, with her hair a wreck and her dress all wrinkled and damp. Luckily she would never see any of these people again.
“In that case, we need to get her away from you before it’s too late,” said Sam. “What will it be, Miss Victoria?” asked the white-bearded, prune-skinned little man with the golden brown eyes. “I suggest you ask for rum, it’s all we got left.”
“Two rums it is,” said Shane. “And a heaping plate of your best oysters.”
Turning to Vicky, he added with a wink, “They’re aphrodisiacs, you know. Not that a man would need any help with a woman as sexy as you.”
She delivered an icy stare, silently daring him to spill the beans about their tryst on the beach.
“I would say the same about you,” Vicky gave it right back, “but there aren’t enough oysters in the world.”
Sam slapped the bar, howling. “Finally, a woman who can dish it back to you as good as you give. I would tell you to marry her on the spot but she’s way too smart for that.”
Shane dropped dramatically to one knee. “Miss Victoria, if you marry me, I promise to make your every day more interesting than the last.”
“Get up, you’re acting ridiculous.”
“Whatever you say.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Waves of heat shot through her body. She could still feel him inside her, making her tingle and ache. “Don’t do that,” she chided.
Sam chuckled as he headed off in search of the rum. Does he know that we’re lovers? Vicky wondered.
“A great white shark the size of a bus bit off his leg,” Shane said, noting Vicky’s interest in the man. “Sam took its teeth for a necklace and its carcass for a wall trophy as payback.”
“The only leg being pulled is yours, miss,” Sam grumbled pouring them two shots. “Ain’t no shark the size of a bus.”
“Come on, Sam, stop messing with my tall tales. How am I supposed to impress the lady?”
“By dropping her off early, no more than a peck on the cheek,” Sam quipped, heading back to the kitchen for the oysters.
Vicky cringed internally. It was a little late for that.
“That’s no fun,” said Shane. “Is it, Victoria?”
“Actually, that’s the first sane thing I have heard all night.”
Sam came back with the oysters and a bottle of sauce. “Here you go, eat up.”
“Thanks, Sam. Say, you don’t still have that old outboard around, do you? We had a little, uh, accident with ours.”
Sam had a twinkle in his eye. “An accident, huh? Next time maybe you should just tell her you ran out of gas.”
“Very funny, Sam. You got the boat or not?”
“Yep, she’s all yours.”
“Much appreciated.”
Vicky contemplated asking Sam to take her back, instead of Shane, but that would only make the situation more awkward.
A few minutes later Shane and Vicky were settled at a table in the corner.
“I think we should get to know each other better,” Shane decided. “Let’s talk about our most outrageous lovemaking experiences. You first.”
“I thought we were keeping it G-rated,” she reminded.
Shane feigned innocence, though not too convincingly. “Hey, we’re just talking, right?”
“Just when I thought you might be capable of thinking of something other than sex,” she grumbled.
“What else is a guy supposed to think about around you? Don’t tell me you don’t know your own powers? Helen of Troy was a dog compared to you. You could launch two thousand ships to her one thousand, easily.”
She shook her head. “You really need to work on your pick-up lines.”
“So tell me what will work on you.”
“You know,” she declared, “you really need to broaden your horizons. It you want to get to know me, try something a little more sophisticated. I have a mind you know, opinions.”
“All right,” he conceded. “Tell me your opinion on oral sex. Ever have a man go down on you for hours, licking your sweet clit and making you come over and over so many times you had to beg him to stop?”
Vicky glanced nervously at the two sailors, both of whom were keeled over at the moment, a half-finished bottle of rum between them. Sam was wiping down the bar, singing out of tune along with the record player.
The beat of the song matched the desperate pulsing between her legs. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. Her initial arousal had worked its way down to a hot, slow burn that pooled in her breasts and thrummed in her pussy.
Damn it, she had just come more than once, so why wasn’t she satisfied? Clearly she had gone too long without a man.
Too much work. That was the problem. Certainly she was welcome to play any time at the Society for Sexual Freedom but frankly the whole idea of meeting masked strangers for anonymous sex in sumptuous velvet rooms lacked appeal when those men couldn’t hold a candle to Shane and his absolutely perfect body and inexplicable charisma.
“I was thinking intellectual opinions, Shane. You know—art, culture, politics?”
Shane shook his head. “You’re not thinking about any of those things. You’re wondering if I’m all bluff or if I’m capable of making your fantasies come true.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said sharply. “I already know the answer to that.”
“I’m not talking about what happened on the beach. That was fantastic but it doesn’t scratch the surface where you’re concerned. Tell me what curls your pretty little toes. You don’t strike me as the tie-me-up-and-spank-me kind, like Kat.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
There was no way Vicky could abide a man telling her what to do in bed, much less making her kneel at his feet and call him Master.
Vicky was all for sexual surrender but it had to work both ways or not at all.
Shane continued to study her with those devastating sapphire eyes of his and she really wished he would stop. “There is something kinky about you though. What is it? You’re definitely not into
other women. I doubt you like mud wrestling or anything messy. Is it lingerie, maybe, or sex in high places? What about voyeurism or exhibitionism?”
Something in her expression must have given her away.
Damn it.
“So that’s it.” He grinned in triumph. “Miss Victoria, the proper lawyer, likes to play naughty. Am I right? Do you get hot thinking about getting caught, panties down around your ankles, taking a throbbing cock deep inside your aching pussy, out of your mind with animal need, knowing anyone might see you and judge you and know what you are…”
Enough was enough.
Vicky tossed the remains of her beer in his face, cutting off his disgusting soliloquy. She had no idea why she behaved this way with this man, but it really turned her on. “Does that answer your question?”
Shane licked his lips, cool as a wolf. “Sure does.”
Victoria was on her feet. “See you around. Not.”
She left him to pay the bill. He caught up with her halfway down the beach.
“How are you going to get back without a boat?” he called out.
Fuck. She had forgotten about that.
“I’ll swim.”
“In the ocean, at night? I don’t think so. You need a boat.”
“And I would have one if some jerk hadn’t sunk it.”
“You distracted me.”
“I did not.”
“Either way, I have Sam’s boat for a backup. He pulled the keys out of his pocket, dangling them.
“Give me the keys,” she demanded.
“I will on one condition,” he said.
“You’re in no position to bargain.” Neither was she, unfortunately. She could try to grab them but he was too tall. Besides, getting that close to him would be a very bad idea right now.
“Just dance with me, Victoria. What harm could it do?”
Victoria swallowed.
Probably more harm than she could possibly imagine.
“You’re unbelievable, Shane, you know that? I give you one more chance for our friends’ sake and you continue to act like a fraternity reject. Now you expect me to dance with you as if we’re on a date. Is this your idea of a joke because I am not laughing?”
“I never joke about cards or women. Look, I’m sorry if I went overboard. Let’s just say it’s been awhile since I’ve been in polite society.”
Vicky snorted. “You think?”
“One dance.” He held up a single finger, dimples flashing, the bad boy promising to be good just for her. “You don’t want me to have to beg, do you?”
As if a man like Shane would ever have to beg. Not with that V shape, broad shoulders, narrow waist, zero percent body fat and gorgeous face.
Vicky owed herself another little taste, didn’t she? One last little bit of harmless body to body contact? Besides, the harder he pushed, the hotter she got.
“One dance,” she conceded. “But I’m onto you, mister. You might have charmed the panties off me once but it was a fluke, got it?”
“Hey, don’t forget who almost dried them for you and almost helped you put them back on. Seriously, you’re the boss, whatever you say goes.”
“Yeah, right, if that were true, I wouldn’t be here at all.”
So who exactly is running the show? Vicky wondered.
She decided to blame her pussy, pulsing and moist, and still spasming. It was more than physical now. He had engaged her mind and her libido, making her crave the very kind of situation she should avoid like the plague. Sex so hot, it would totally shut off her brain yet again. Lust that had to have its way, no matter the consequences.
No, it is out of the question.
Oh god, he was taking her hand again, taking her body over, leading her back inside.
—
Just one dance?
Like hell, thought Shane as he felt Victoria’s soft skin against him, his nostrils breathing in her sweet, intoxicating scent. How did he get himself into these messes, anyway? The last thing Shane had expected to do when he’d shown up for Chase’s wedding was to seduce a gorgeous female. Then again, he never planned such things. Beautiful women just seemed to show up and when they did he had no choice but to go after them.
Shane loved women. The way they smelled and how they walked and how they laughed, right down to the million different ways they blushed and moaned when they were coming.
He had had a lot of them in his time and why not? They liked him too, and he treated them right.
Deep down, Shane didn’t consider himself worthy of a real relationship. He knew his limits. He did his damnedest to love his women the way they deserved and then he made sure to go his way before he could do any damage.
In this case the damage was up front in the form of a fevered sex act on a deserted beach, two lonely, sex-starved people crashing together as if they were the cure for each other’s affliction.
Shane had never clicked with a woman so fast. It was not just the sex—he liked the banter, the ongoing challenge.
It had to stop though. Victoria was absolutely right, they were supposed to act like family now or at least as platonic friends.
Screw that. Who am I kidding?
Like hell would he stop.
Victoria was quite simply the perfect package and the way she teased his starved body right now as they danced made Shane want her all over again, all night long, no stopping.
This was no casual pick-up though. This was a smart, classy, sophisticated woman and she was the best friend of Chase’s new wife to boot, practically a sister-in-law.
If he were a sensible man he would have left her alone.
But those eyes had taken him over at first glance. Sure, she had the body of a goddess and the face of a model, but he wanted to see inside, clear down to the depths of her soul.
Yes, Shane absolutely loved women. It was his curse. He paid attention and he knew the way they thought, their priorities—so different from a man.
Not that he knew a damn thing about sustaining love. According to Ivanka, the woman Shane had seen off and on while working undercover in Eastern Europe, he had been put on earth to break women’s hearts.
“You are like perfect rose with all the thorns,” she had said in her imperfect English. “Anyone who gives you heart will bleed dry.”
That secretive, wanderlust quality of Shane’s had perfectly suited his work. For his last job he’d had to separate himself from everyone, even the comrades-in-arms who had meant everything to him.
Chase and the others had thought he was dead. He had not been permitted to tell them otherwise until now.
Would he take another assignment for the quasi-government agency which paid his salary? Maybe. A lot depended on whether life offered him any options.
Was Victoria still open to his advances, trembling ever so slightly in his arms, smelling so sweet, working so desperately to hide her needs? It must be tough, looking as she did, working to be taken seriously in a man’s world. Hindered even more by a strong sex drive.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured now, his fingers splayed along the curve of her back, feeling her warmth beneath the light material.
“I’m sure I’ll survive,” she replied.
Shane chuckled. Her breasts were high and firm against him. There was no disguising the tiny points of her nipples. Miss Victoria was aroused. “So tell me, have you ever lived out any of your fantasies?”
“Don’t go there,” she warned.
“Yes, ma’am.” Shane had time, all night, in fact. The fact that she had agreed to a dance meant she was still curious and curiosity was a man’s best friend in the seduction department.
“So how long have you known Kat?” he asked, lightly swaying her to the recorded sound of steel drums and island flutes.
“Oh wow,” she quipped. “A question about something other than sex. I think I might faint.”
“That would definitely give me an easy way to sweep you off your feet,” he noted.
“For
get it. For your information, I’ve know Kat since college. We were roommates.”
“I bet you were a cheerleader.”
She stiffened. Another bull’s-eye.
“I can picture you in a little skirt, making all the young men hard. You enjoyed the hell out of it but you were afraid to tell anyone how much. In fact, you thought there was something wrong with you, sinful even.”
“Seems like projection to me,” she dismissed, though there was no denying the rasp in her voice, the way her body moved with him, anticipating.
The contradiction was a hell of a turn-on, just as was everything else about this woman.
Would one night be enough to plumb her secrets?
He doubted it highly.
“Although, I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed in you, Shane.”
“Disappointed?”
“You came on strong but now you’re retreating, giving me the edge by confessing your fantasies,” she mused. “Do I threaten you that much?”
Was it the rum loosening her tongue or their shared passion? Either way, this was going to be good, like chess with a master, finally, after so many amateurs.
“I wasn’t aware a man’s sexual fantasies made him weak, especially when he isn’t afraid to carry them out.”
“So you’d put me in a little skirt, give me some pom-poms? Très boring.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded, hands on her hips, rocking them slowly, sensuously. “So let’s raise the ante. You’ll be naked under the little skirt.”
“Yawn,” said Vicky.
“I wasn’t finished.” His voice was low and husky. He lowered his head, very close to her ear. She gasped as he took hold of her perfect ass cheeks at the same time, not letting go.
“That’s not dancing.” She wriggled, trying to break free.
“You promised me,” he said, kissing her neck. “One dance.”
She sighed, fighting the obvious rising tension, the need to touch and be touched.
“You are in that little skirt,” he reminded her. “You have your pom-poms and a really tight sweater. No bra. Everyone’s going to see it, Vicky—your tight nipples.”
She was practically panting.
“There is a gymnasium full of people. Everyone from college, lots of men, your teachers too. You have to perform, Vicky, all by yourself. What are they going to think when you jump and spread and cheer and they see you didn’t bother with underwear? They will jeer, they will call you names, but they will be jealous. All the girls will want to scratch your eyes out as their boyfriends drool, their cocks rock hard as they think about you, about stripping your clothes off and throwing you down on the floor and taking you.”
Exposing Victoria Page 3
