One Hot Escape (Hot Brits Book 4)

by Anna Durand

  "I'm sure you can handle that, Dex."

  Our host smiles and ambles into the house.

  "Should we take Dexter's suggestion and swim naked?" I ask. "I've never gone skinny dipping. Have you?"

  "No, I never had the chance."

  "Let's do it, then. But first, we probably should grab different clothes and some towels."

  "Definitely."

  We find Ilsa in the downstairs hallway. She happens to be walking in our direction right when we reenter the house.

  "Good morning, Ilsa," Rick says. "Dex mentioned you could point us toward his special closet for guests. We need a change of clothes."

  "Oh yes, of course," she says, waving toward the other end of the hallway. "Follow me."

  She leads us to the door at the end of the hall and swings it open.

  Holy moly, it's the hugest closet I've ever seen. Racks and racks of clothing fill the space, everything from swimsuits to formal wear.

  "Dexter is so pleased you're staying on," Ilsa says. "Please take anything you like from the guest wardrobe. Whatever you select is yours to keep."

  "That's incredibly generous. Is this all designer stuff?"

  "Mostly. Dexter doesn't care about labels, though. He wants to provide attractive, comfortable clothing for his guests, whether they're here for the night or the week."

  Yesterday, she called our host Sir Dexter. Today, she's ditched the honorific. My scientist brain wants to ask her about that, but it would be rude. After all, I'm the woman who stole my one-night lover's wallet so I could find out his name. Yeah, I still feel bad about that.

  Richard Hunter is not my one-night lover anymore. He's… something else.

  "Dexter must have a lot of guests," I say.

  "Not crowds of them," Ilsa tells me. "But he does love it when someone visits. He can be particular about who he allows on the island, so it's an honor to be invited."

  "Yes, it is," Rick agrees. "And we are very grateful for the hospitality both you and Dex have shown us."

  "Absolutely," I chime in.

  Ilsa smiles and gestures toward the wardrobe room. "I will leave you to explore. When you're ready to go to the beach, just follow the trail from the west veranda."

  "Thank you, Ilsa," Rick says.

  While she heads back down the hall, Richard and I wander into the wardrobe room. I have no idea where to start since I'm surrounded by clothing. Then I notice the little signs on top of the racks. Someone has labeled them with the type of clothing each contains, everything from "swimwear for ladies" to "suits for gents." I amble over to the women's swimwear and flip through the options, which are all carefully clipped onto hangers.

  Rick is on the other side of the room examining the men's options for beach attire. Several racks stand between us, so I can't see much other than his head.

  "Are we dressing for the beach?" I call out to him. "Or are we swimming naked? I only ask because the answer will change what kind of clothes I choose."

  He lifts his head to look at me, and his lips slide into a naughty smile. "Wear a bikini, but only so I can watch you strip it off once we're at the beach."

  "See any skimpy, super-tight options over there? If so, wear one. Then I can watch you peel it off your body."

  I choose a swimsuit—a bikini, per his request—that has a beautiful, bright flower-print pattern. Instead of a string bikini, I've chosen one with a halter top and a high-cut bottom. After I pull on the swimsuit, I tie a sarong around my hips, slung low, and slip on a pair of cute flip-flops that have fake flowers sewn onto them.

  "Ready?" I ask, almost shouting to make sure he hears me. I can't see where Rick has gone. He must be somewhere inside this vast closet. "I'm all set."

  His head pops up on the other side of the nearest rack. "I'm ready too."

  "Let's go."

  He sweeps his heated gaze over me, and his voice drops to a softer, hungrier tone. "You are stunning, Maddie. Every time I see you in a new outfit, I'm awestruck again by how beautiful and sexy you are."

  My cheeks warm from his compliment. I can't remember the last time I blushed because a man told me I'm beautiful, but I like the way it feels. I like him, a lot more than I expected I would. And I can't wait to swim in the nude with Richard Hunter.

  I hustle around the rack between us so I can get a look at what he's wearing.

  He's chosen the tiniest, tightest pair of swim briefs I have ever seen, even skimpier than the ones he'd worn on the day we met. When my attention lands on the bulge of his cock, I swear my mouth literally waters. I want to eat him up from head to toe and then do it all over again, licking and nibbling my way over every inch of his body.

  Rick offers me his arm, like a true gentleman. "Shall we go?"

  I finally notice he's wearing flip-flops too and a pair of sunglasses. "Yes, let's get a move on. I want to dive into that crystal-clear blue water with you. Like, right now. So hurry up, huh?"

  Since I grin when I say that bossy part, he knows I'm teasing. But I'm sure he also realizes I do want to dive into the water with him—naked.

  He snags a big umbrella, two big towels, and a bottle of sunscreen on our way out of the ginormous closet. I grab sunglasses for me and take the stuff he's carrying too so he can haul an armload of snorkeling fins and masks. He also picks up funny-looking little thingies that he tells me are earpieces to let us communicate while we're underwater.

  A few minutes later, we're on the beach. Rick has laid out our towels, side by side, and jammed the umbrella's pole into the sand so the little canopy shades our towels. Palm trees surround us, and the scent of tropical flowers drifts on the breeze. The air always smells so nice in the Caribbean. Dr. Solberg scolds me for being unscientific in my analysis of the air, but I tell that girl to shut her mouth. This is my vacation. Screw the scientific method.

  Rick holds up the sunscreen bottle. "Why don't I put some of this on you? Don't want all that beautiful skin to get burnt."

  His smirk suggests he's less concerned about sunburn than about feeling me up from head to toe. I want that too, especially if it leads to more hot sex. But that will only happen if I can prove to him that I'm not sore.

  I lie down on a towel on my stomach, propped up on my elbows, and glance at him over my shoulder. "I'm ready for that rubdown."

  "Not a rubdown. It's a necessary application of sun protection." He's smirking again, so I figure he's being sardonic. He's definitely teasing me with that hot voice of his. "If you get aroused by this, it's not my fault."

  "Uh-huh. Do you want me to sign a waiver? If I get hot and bothered, I absolve you of any and all responsibility for making me wet. Something like that?"

  He stares at me from behind his reflective sunglasses. I can't see his eyes, but the fact he's staring is obvious, at least to me. I swear I can feel his sultry gaze on my skin. My scientist side, that annoying Dr. Solberg, balks at my claim. Shut up, Doc. Maddie is enjoying her vacay and doesn't need your input.

  "Should I draft that waiver for you?" I ask.

  "No." He kneels beside me and squeezes the sunscreen bottle, drizzling the cream onto my skin, painting a cool trail down my spine. "I like you wet, Maddie."

  "But we agreed not to have sex."

  With both palms, he rubs the sunscreen into my skin, spreading it all over, his hands warm and strong but his strokes gentle. "I want to make love to you again, believe me."

  "Good. I want that too." I moan softly because his hands feel wonderful on my skin. "If you ever give up on publishing, you could have a solid career as a masseur. You'd have a line three blocks long full of women clamoring to get your hands on them."

  He stops moving his fingers. When I glance back at him, he's scrunching his lips.

  "Everything okay?" I ask.

  "Yes, fine. Not a fan of professional massage, that's all." He goes back to rubbing that sunscreen all over me. "I appreciate the career advice, but I don't need a crowd of females. The only wo
man I want to get my hands on is you."

  While he slides his palms up to my shoulders, I lay my head down on my clasped hands and close my eyes. Everything he does to me feels incredible. And I'm on vacation, so why shouldn't I revel in the pleasure of a sexy man massaging me all over?

  For once, Dr. Solberg and I agree.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Richard

  I couldn't pass up the chance to rub my hands all over Maddie's sensual body. The bikini she chose today is even sexier than the one she'd been wearing on the day we met. Was that only two days ago? I've lost count of the hours, the days, and everything else since I first saw her. I plan to relish every moment with her, in the moment, and let the future sort itself.

  When I squeeze more sunscreen out of the bottle, letting it drizzle onto her shoulder, she shivers faintly.

  "Too cold?" I ask.

  "No, that's not why I shivered."

  "Why, then?"

  She opens one eye to look at me. "Because I'm turned on. Duh."

  "Oh, I see." I'm getting turned on too, by the look on her face and the feel of her skin. "Would you rather do this yourself?"

  "No, I'd rather you do it."

  The husky tone of her voice makes me want to shag her right here, right now. But I can't. Not having sex for a while was my idea and reversing that decision would be…impolite. Or something like that.

  "Keep going," she murmurs in that arousing tone. "Please."

  I wonder if she could climax from a massage. Well, it probably depends on which parts of her I rub. My brother would know the perfect spots and the perfect ways to work them. No wonder women love him. Maybe that's why I haven't told Maddie about Nick yet. She wouldn't be the first woman to throw me over for my brother.

  While I spread the sunscreen over her shoulders, I savor the sensation of her skin under my palms and the tendons I can feel when I knead her flesh with my fingers. She moans when I glide my hands down her back, skimming them over her arse on my way to her legs. I drizzle sunscreen onto her thighs and start rubbing, my fingers slick and my thoughts anything but chaste. To have my hands on her luscious body but not make love to her is sheer torture—but the best sort.

  "Mm, Rick, talk to me. I love your voice."

  "Thank you?" No one has ever complimented the way I speak. Is it a compliment? Yes, it must be.

  She peeks at me over her shoulder, eyes half-closed. "Once, I tasted hot cocoa flavored with dark chocolate, caramel, and cayenne. Your voice is like that. Rich, smooth, decadent, and spicy."

  I freeze with my hands on her thighs. What am I meant to say to that? She loves my voice, and it's like spicy hot cocoa. I have never heard that from any other woman.

  Maddie smiles and wiggles her arse. "Are you done with my legs?"

  "Not quite." I smooth the lotion onto her calves. "There. It's done."

  "Time to turn over." She flips onto her back, clasping her hands behind her head. "I'm ready to get sunscreened up on the front side."

  I can't resist doing what she wants, not when I'm enraptured by the sight of her breasts and her flat belly, with that sweet little navel that I'd love to tease with my tongue. Since I can't say no to this woman, I squeeze more lotion from the sunscreen bottle.

  "Come on, Rick, please. Talk to me."

  "All right." What should I say? While I slather the lotion over her skin, rubbing as I go, I realize I want to talk to her. Words tumble out of me, things I've never said to a woman before. "You are so fucking beautiful, Madeleine. I love touching you, and I love the look on your face when I'm touching your body. Christ, you're perfect. I want to tear off your bikini and devour every inch of you, starting with your breasts and moving lower and lower until I push my head between your thighs and feast on all that rich, luscious cream."

  "Oh God, yes." Her chest rises and falls with every labored breath, hoisting those succulent tits. She drags her fingers down her throat and chest until she reaches her breasts. Then with only her fingertips, she toys with her nipples through her bikini top. "Keep talking."

  If I do that, I know I'll wind up breaking my vow to not fuck her. Since my brain is on holiday, I can't quite remember why I shouldn't rip that bikini to shreds. But no sex was my idea. What sort of arse would I be if I changed my mind the day after making that vow?

  I quickly finish applying the sunscreen, then I get up and rush to cover myself with it too—before she can offer to do it for me. My willpower will crumble to dust if she does that. But we can still have fun together, even without sex.

  "Let's go snorkeling in the nude," she says. "I memorized all the fish and stuff that we might see down there so I'll know what to look for."

  "You memorized the fish?"

  Maddie hunches her shoulders, shifting her gaze downward. "I'm a scientist. Data is what I live for. So I bought books about Caribbean wildlife and sea life before I got on the plane. The long flight from the UK gave me plenty of time to commit all that info to memory."

  "That's impressive. You're the cleverest woman I've ever met." I offer her my hands to help her up. "If we use the earpieces, you can tell me all about the fish we see."

  She grins and claps her hands.

  And my pulse speeds up. Maddie Solberg makes me feel… I don't know. Something good but indescribable. Maybe I'll figure out what it is later. For now, I want to watch her experience a coral-reef ecosystem, because I'm certain she will light up when she swims with all those underwater creatures.

  "I love your enthusiasm," I say. "But you're not at all what I thought a scientist would be like."

  "How are we eggheads supposed to behave?"

  "Serious and pragmatic, I suppose."

  "That's how I am at work, but this is a vacation." She tickles my belly. "I'm serious about wanting to snorkel with you and doing it in the nude is very pragmatic."

  "I don't see how."

  "Hydrodynamics. It's like aerodynamics but in the water. I briefly dated a guy who specializes in that field, so I learned a few things about it. Swimming nude is practical because it means we'll have no clothes to slow down our hydrokinetic motion."

  "Your gorgeous breasts are going to cock that up either way, I think." I pull her closer. "Not that I mind losing some hydro…whatever. It's worth it to see your naked body underwater."

  "Are you agreeing to nude snorkeling?"

  "Yes, you've convinced me. Strip, Maddie."

  "Only if you do the same."

  We both shed our swimsuits and apply sunscreen to the places our clothing had concealed, though we each do that on our own. Touching her naked body again would be too much temptation. Once we're both ready, I can't resist doing the same thing I'd done yesterday. I sweep her into my arms, carry her into the water until it's up to my knees, and toss her in.

  Maddie shrieks and giggles and then splashes me. She grins again when she points behind me. "You forgot the snorkeling gear."

  While I retrieve our fins and masks, a revelation hits me so powerfully that I freeze, bent over as I reach for our gear. Since we left our room this morning, I haven't thought about work once. Not even a fleeting thought.

  Maddie races out of the water, grabbing her mask and fins from me. Her smile, so bright and exuberant, makes me smile too.

  I haven't thought about work at all, and I plan to keep that up until the day I have no choice but to think about it. Work doesn't matter as much to me as it did a few days ago, and that's all thanks to one source.

  Madeleine Louisa Solberg.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maddie

  Nude snorkeling is strange and wonderful, like we're doing something naughty, though there's nobody else around to object. Even if Dexter or Ilsa should see us, I doubt either of them would take offense. Yeah, Dex absolutely would not mind. I bet he'd want to join us.

  With these fancy earpieces and our full-face masks, Rick and I can talk to each other while underwater, so I tell him the names of the fish and
other sea life. He seems genuinely excited to see and learn about all of it. We float a few feet above the reef where coral grows in shades of pink, yellow, orange, and green, and it grows in various shapes too, everything from brain coral that resembles the exterior of a human brain to bulbous forms, featherlike structures, rods, and tubular designs. I marvel at the diversity of coral, but the array of sea creatures swimming around and below us leaves me awestruck.

  "This is unbelievable," Rick says in my earpiece. "What are all those fish?"

  I point to each one as I tell him the names—a school of clown triggerfish with their white-spotted black bodies and bright-yellow mouths, and a queen angelfish with its blue-and-yellow body and rainbow-colored fins. When a fish with leopard-like spots passes below us, I point at the creature. "Look, it's a spotfin burrfish. Oh! Look at that over there. It's lavender rope sponge. That's the actual name of it, not just what it resembles. Isn't it beautiful?"

  "It's lovely but not as beautiful as your arse."

  I glance over my shoulder at him. He's slowed his swimming pace, apparently so he can admire my bottom. "You're supposed to be experiencing the beauty and majesty of the sea, Richard."

  He swims closer so he can pat my rump. "I am doing that, but your arse is one of the great wonders of the sea and the entire world. You're surrounded by blue water and strange sea creatures, like a sexy mermaid prowling for men to seduce and drag down to your undersea kingdom."

  "That's the weirdest compliment I've ever received."

  "You deserve unique praise since you are a unique woman." He looks down, then points toward something below him. "What is that?"

  "It's a green turtle. Isn't he gorgeous?"

  "Yes, but I still think your arse is the most stunning sight."

  Jeez, he's obsessed with my butt. Well, we are snorkeling in the nude, so I guess I should cut him some slack. I keep glancing at his nakedness too, especially the way his dick moves with the current of our movements.