What Janie Wants

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What Janie Wants Page 6

by Rhenna Morgan


  His feral smile stretched ear to ear. “Wild.” He worked the flared crown through her folds and lined himself up. “Knew you would be.”

  He surged forward, filling and stretching her in one thrust. So full. Tight. Perfect.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her heels into his flanks. Beneath her palms, his biceps and shoulders contracted and released, bunched bands of steel with barely leashed power.

  Movement flashed in her periphery. The dresser mirror, Zade pistoning into her willing flesh. The muscles in his ass flexed with each surge, the sight pushing her to the top of her release.

  “Look at me.” Zade laced his fingers with hers and pinned them on either side of her head. His voice was thick and grated, his breath as heavy and heated as hers. “Like you watching me take you, but this time I want your eyes. Want you to come knowing who’s inside you. Who’s taking you there.”

  He shifted his hips and drilled deep, rasping her clit with each thrust. “Come on, Janie. Let go. Come for me and take me with you.”

  His eyes. So intense and locked on her.

  “Zade.” Her pussy clenched, release seizing her thoughts and senses in its merciless grip.

  He growled above her, hips hammering against her flesh, and head thrown back, revealing corded muscles and strained veins.

  She shook, clutching him for dear life as she rode the sensations. Her wild pulse, each contraction of her core, each flex of his cock. Bliss. Primitive, incredible bliss. Carnal and yet so perfect, it rattled an untouched part of her. A sleeping side of herself she hadn’t even known existed.

  Slowly, he gave her his weight. Their skin was slick with sweat. He explored the curve of her shoulder with leisurely, soft kisses and rocked his hips against her in easy strokes.

  She trailed her fingertips up and down his spine, her mind languid and peaceful in a way she hadn’t felt in years, if ever. A shiver wriggled through her and a hairline crack zigzagged through her defenses. He’d been right. This was special. Maybe not meant for more than their time together, or even one night. But it was a connection. And it was profound.

  Snuggling into the crisp cool sheets, Janie rolled to her side and hugged her pillow. The scent of citrus and wood surrounded her. And man. Lots and lots of sinful man.

  Wait a minute.

  She clenched the sheet to her chest and sat upright. Butter yellow walls, the quiet cove just outside, and a skylight overhead.

  Zade’s room.

  She buried her face in the pillow and groaned. Dear Lord, she’d slept with a man fourteen years younger than her. Not dreamt it, but actually done it. And it had been outstanding. Not at all the awkward disaster she’d been afraid of. If anything, Zade had seemed as blown away as she’d been.

  She popped her head up. No running water or shuffling sounded from the bathroom and the kitchen was empty. She scrambled off the bed, tugging the top sheet with her, and wrapped it around her. The ocean breeze filtered through the open glass door and the porch swing creaked with each sway. No one on the private beach, either.

  She plodded to the tiny kitchen. All clean, no coffee going. A few travel magazines sat on the coffee table and a phone charger lay coiled and ready for action on the end table. On the bedroom dresser was a small container full of Mexican coins and what she thought were memory cards.

  She plunked down on the edge of the bed. 10:14 glowed a soft blue from a baseline black alarm clock. No note. Not anywhere. Goose bumps prickled down her arms and her throat tightened. Maybe it hadn’t been as outstanding for him. What if he’d left to avoid a clumsy morning scene?

  Shit.

  She snatched her clothes off the floor. Not a big deal. She was a big girl and more than capable of handling this situation in a calm, classy manner.

  Oh, who the heck was she kidding? She’d slept with him after barely two days, and was almost old enough to be his mother. Classy had left the building a long time ago.

  Ugh. She’d heard the expression “walk of shame,” but it sounded a lot funnier when she wasn’t the one doing it. She tossed her dress on the couch near her shoes and untangled herself from the sheet.

  Across the room, a brown leather stationery folder lay near the corner of the writing desk. A note would be classy. God knew, a little something from him would’ve dialed her angst down a bit. Even something trite like, It was fun, would have been helpful.

  She re-tucked the sheet around her and shuffled over to the desk, the starched linens hissing on the cool tile floors behind her. Like everything else at the resort, the stationery had a quirky, yet quality feel to it. Deckled edges in a bold Robin’s egg blue. She white-knuckled the pen and nibbled the end of it.

  Thank you so much for the lovely dinner. I had a wonderful time.

  Good Lord. She wasn’t writing thank you cards. She wadded the sheet up and tossed it over by her dress. She needed something meaningful, but that let him know she got the message loud and clear. One night. No more.

  Last night meant everything. I’ll treasure it forever.

  Gah. Meaningful, not lovesick and melodramatic.

  She crumbled that one up, threw it over with the first, and pulled out a fresh sheet. She tapped the pen on her lips. God, no wonder he hadn’t left a note. This morning after crap wasn’t as easy as it looked.

  Footsteps sounded on the patio, followed by a soft clatter.

  Janie twisted in her chair as Zade strode through the door.

  “You’re up.” His smile shone as cheerfully as the midmorning sun and his beach attire was back in place, shirtless with leather flip-flops and board shorts. Though this time he’d gone with a turquoise pair that drew twice as much attention to his eyes.

  His gaze shuttled from the stationery in front of her, to her clothes and the wads of paper beside it. The smile dimmed. “You’re leaving?”

  “Well, I…” Wasn’t sure what the protocol was? Thought maybe you wanted me to get out? “I didn’t know if you were gone for the day or—” She waved around the room. “Well, I didn’t know.”

  He palmed the spot above his heart, eyes thoughtful. “You thought I’d bailed.” Despite the nature of his comment, he sounded like he thought she was funny.

  “This is new to me. I wasn’t sure what to think.”

  He ambled to her dress and plucked the papers from the couch.

  Janie shot forward. “Oh, don’t read those.”

  He plopped to the couch, holding the papers away from her. “No, I think this will be fun.” He patted his lap. “Come on. I wanna see what you had to say.”

  “They’re horrid. One’s a thank you note and I don’t know what the other is. Bad Jane Austen, I guess. I gave up before I got too far.”

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her across him, encircling her in his arms as he unwrinkled the first page. He chuckled as he read the first. “I take it this is the thank you note?”

  She fidgeted and tried to at least make sure she didn’t crush his thighs with her weight. “I’m quite good at those.”

  “I see that.” He tossed it to the side and opened the other.

  The soft swoosh of ocean waves filled the quiet. Too much quiet.

  Janie pushed against Zade’s shoulder to stand.

  Zade tightened his arms around her and shuttled his thumb beside her hasty scribbles. “Did you mean it?”

  Last night meant everything.

  She swallowed, the back of her throat and tongue dry enough to make the process a challenge. Either she played it cool, or told him the truth. Considering she’d likely never see him again, pride over truth seemed cowardly. And the night really had been a tremendous gift. “A bit melodramatic in delivery, but yes.”

  He set the paper aside more carefully than the first, then stretched out beside her on the couch. Zade lay partly over her, his legs tangled with hers. He traced her jawline, gaze moving over her face in a slow, leisurely glide. “I went to get you breakfast.”

  And she’d naturally thought the worst. “I sh
ouldn’t have assumed you’d left so quickly.”

  His thumb ghosted across her lip. “Says more about you than it does about me, babe.” His grin whipped back into place. “Though I’ll learn my lesson and be sure I leave a note next time.”

  Next time. Stupid to pounce on such a small comment so quickly, but her heart practically skipped at the idea. “You got me breakfast?”

  His eyelids grew weighted and his gaze locked on her lips. “Figured you’d be hungry after last night. Besides—” He rolled back and pulled a brochure from his pocket. “I need to keep you fed if we’re gonna make it through today.”

  “What’s that?”

  He flipped the emerald green paper over and showed the main caption.

  Mayan Catamaran Paradise Tours

  “You said you wanted to explore.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Welcome to day two of your personalized tour experience.”

  The wide sailboat with its blue and white sails lifted on a wave and dropped in a graceful swoop. Ocean water misted Janie’s back and cooled her hot skin. Thank God, Zade had remembered the high-octane sunscreen. Mexico’s late afternoon sun wasn’t something to trifle with beachside. Splayed out on the trampoline surface between the boat’s two hulls, her redhead fair skin was a lightning rod for extra crispy trouble. Especially considering how the skin on display hadn’t seen the sun in ages.

  How Zade had talked her into wearing a bikini, she still couldn’t figure out. She’d bought and packed two at McKenna’s insistence, but never actually thought she’d wear one. Now here she was, on her stomach, back straps untied, and at Zade’s mercy for re-tying them.

  The trampoline shifted and a shadow slanted over her.

  “You still with me?” Zade stretched out on his side next to her, head propped on one hand. The wind had turned his unruly hair into something straight from a surfer god’s playbook, and his tan made his white teeth and blue eyes all the more impressive.

  “I’m with you.” She motioned toward her back. “Tie me back up so I can flip over.”

  “Flip over without it.”

  “I will not.” She craned her neck over one shoulder toward the man steering their boat. Private tour or not, she wasn’t going for no tan lines with an audience. “He’s right over there.”

  “He can’t see a thing. I know because I checked.” He leaned in. “He also mentioned we’ve got at least twenty minutes before we’re anywhere close to shore and that he’d keep his distance.”

  “What?”

  He busted out laughing, shifted and grabbed a plastic container full of bite-sized fruit. “Come on, babe. We’re not the first couple who’s taken a private cruise. You’re hot, I’m young, and he’s smart.” He held a piece of pineapple near her lips.

  Janie opened her mouth the same way she had countless other times during their six-hour excursion. About the only time she’d fed herself had been at the Isla Mujeres all-you-can-eat buffet, and even then he’d spoon-fed her three different dessert samples. The guy had a serious mouth fixation.

  He slipped the fruit inside and dragged his thumb along her lower lip before he drew away. His voice dropped. “Live a little, Janie. No one will know. No one but us.”

  She couldn’t. Just thinking about it made her face flame hot, but the sun and air on her back did feel good. She imagined the sensation on her breasts, out in the open, and a flutter rippled deep in her abdomen.

  He smoothed to one side the wisps of hair that had escaped her clip and kissed the back of her neck. “No pressure from me. Only support.” His lips slid to her shoulder and nipped her warm skin. “Either way, it’s time for you to roll over. I have plans for you later that won’t go well with a sunburn, so make the call. You want me to tie you back up or keep the twins free?”

  No pressure. No one around but the two of them and a man named Pedro she’d never see again. “You sure he can’t see me?”

  His fingers tightened on her shoulders and his lips hovered at her ear. “Checked for a reason, babe. Proud as hell to be seen with you, but not at all interested in sharing with Pedro.”

  One chance. No way would she be able to do this again, and she was always telling her kids not to let opportunities pass.

  Zade beamed at her, his gaze full of pride and sparkling to match the sun on the water.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.” God, her voice was deep. Raspy like one of those screen goddess femme fatales.

  Zade’s grin kicked up a notch. “I can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard who’s with you.” He moved back enough to let her up and reached for her beach bag. “Roll on over, wild woman. Let’s give the twins a little one on one time with Father Sun.”

  She pulled in a steadying breath and rolled to her back.

  The sun and wind teased her skin like a mix of warm and cool silk all at once. Her stomach clenched and her nipples hardened. Now she got it. Topless, at least, on a beach had a lot of merit. It felt great. Amazing, bohemian, come-to-momma, kind of great.

  A shadow fell across her a second before the trampoline jolted and Zade straddled her, his knees at her hips. He flipped the top on her fifty-plus sunscreen and scowled down at her.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Tactical error.” He studied her another moment then shook his head and squeezed out a handful of lotion. “Nope. I’ll do it.”

  “Oh, Zade. You can’t.” The tour guide hadn’t popped into view, but God only knew what might make him change his mind.

  “Can’t have the twins out of action,” he said, all business. “Either you put on the sunscreen or I do. If it’s me, I can hone my thoughts on warming you up for later. If it’s you, I’ll come in my trunks before you get it rubbed in.”

  “But, Pedro—”

  “Is busy.” He smoothed the cool lotion up her rib cage and cupped her breasts. His voice dropped a sexy octave. “As. Am. I.”

  Holy moly, his hands felt good. She arched into his confident, powerful strokes and bit back a moan. Barely two full days left to her own devices as a single woman, and she was topless on the ocean getting rubbed down by a man fourteen years her junior. Not too shabby. Wrong on so damned many levels, yes, but mmmm. The man knew how to use his hands.

  He massaged in the last of the lotion and finished off with a teasing pinch to her nipples. His lungs rose and fell in a deep, ragged pattern. “Gonna have to schedule another private tour tomorrow. Can’t finish what I want to do to you in fifteen minutes.”

  And wasn’t that a pity. Another minute and she’d have forgotten about Pedro, the ocean, and anything else in a five-mile area.

  He swung himself off her hips and reclined against the raised hull. “Come on over here and lean back on me. If I keep a head-on view of you in the sun like that much longer I'll get us into more than Pedro bargained for.”

  The idea shouldn’t thrill her as much as it did, but the way he looked at her, hungry and ready to toss caution to the wind, fired a heady confidence she’d never felt before.

  She crawled toward him, her bare breasts tight and sensitive to each sway of the boat. Settling between his legs, she laid her back against his chest. A long, easy sigh rolled past her lips, tension from the last nine months and God only knew how many years before vaporizing with it.

  He gripped her hips and nuzzled her ear. “You’re fucking gorgeous. How you don’t know that is beyond me.”

  He sure as heck made her feel that way. Riviera royalty gorgeous. She stretched a little more, angling to the glorious sun.

  He tightened his hold. “Talk to me.”

  “You get me almost naked on the ocean, work me up, and then ask me to talk?”

  “The only way I’ll make it to shore is if you keep my dirty mind occupied.”

  She smiled big enough, her cheeks protested. “Well. Wouldn’t want your dirty mind to start something it can’t finish. So, what can we talk about?” She wiggled her butt and teased his hard cock pressed against her back.

  He hissed and thrust his h
ips against her.

  God, she should be ashamed. “So, you sold your business. What’s your next step from here?”

  He huffed out a harsh laugh, and his warm breath brushed the back of her neck. “Well, that’s one topic to derail my hard-on.”

  “What?” She tried to turn, but Zade held her in place.

  “It’s fine. I’m joking. Mostly.”

  “I didn’t mean to bring up something that bothered you.”

  “Not a bother so much as a frustration.” He relaxed beneath her and massaged her shoulders in languid strokes. “I’m mad as hell at myself for signing the deal as it is, but they put a non-compete clause in the contract. I can’t engage in any competing business for two years.”

  He paused for a minute. “I was so caught up in someone wanting to buy the business I’d built…so overwhelmed with what I saw as success, that I didn’t realize I was cutting myself short in the long run. Not to mention, they’d crater what I’d created.”

  “A non-compete that’s defendable?” She covered his hands with hers. “No, way. My husband, I mean my ex-husband’s, been doing contract law in Texas for years. That’s got to be one of the hardest clauses to defend. Particularly when you’re dealing with a person’s livelihood. They can’t tell you that you can’t work anymore. Even if the clause was defendable, you could do a new spin on your company. Teach other people how to do what you do. Or find a different, unique environment for your photo shoots. There’s always a way to work it. Just talk to your lawyer. The laws can’t be that much different in California.”

  “California?”

  She peeked up at him. “That’s where you live, right? You said the company that bought you out is from California, so I assumed—”

  The boat rose and crashed on a steep wave and jiggled her breasts. She shrieked, cupped them, and giggled like a sixteen-year-old. “Okay, the sun feels good, but that’s a downside.”

  Zade covered her hands and growled near her ear. “Trust me when I tell you, that was not a downside. Hell, I hope it’s choppy sailing from here to shore.”

 

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