by Holley Trent
Jonathan used a palm leaf to scoop suds off the surface. He brought them to his mouth and blew to cool the liquid soap.
“Hold your breath!”
He offered the leaf with a dry smile. “I did.”
She dipped her finger in and felt the sudsy, slippery texture as she rubbed the soap between her fingers. The blue streak disappeared easily.
When she looked up, Jonathan had already plucked the die from the board. The message had faded from the square she’d previously landed on.
“We need to finish this,” he said.
The game was back on.
Chapter Nine
Jonathon rolled the die and moved his game piece five squares, placing him on the last stretch to the finish.
Was he truly thinking to get this over with and go their separate ways? Or did he feel as strong a connection to her as she was beginning to feel to him?
She watched as the next body part was revealed. She didn’t pretend to be surprised.
Jonathan made a low noise in his throat. A masculine noise. A hungry noise. A delicious noise. “Sweetheart, you ready to throw in the towel?”
How could she back out now when they’d already been half-naked together and not the family-rated half? Besides, if she couldn’t kid herself into believing she didn’t want to play, how would she kid him? “I’m not a quitter. At any rate, it may not be wise if we refuse to play. Who knows what that crazy elf will do?”
“Good point. Isabelle, I can think of nothing I’d rather be doing.”
She glanced at the board and felt heat flush her face. She couldn’t remember wanting a man to touch her more. “So come get me, baby.”
His chuckle was a sensual sound that accompanied the resonance of the rolling waves. The crackling fire was a reminder of how she burned for him to touch his lips to the very body part he was coming for. She leaned back on one arm like an invitation. Jonathan’s gaze didn’t drop any further than her lips. Beckoning, luring, she ached for his kiss. She ached for his kisses everywhere. Lust shone in his amber eyes as he leaned closer and cupped the back of her neck.
Gone was any sign that he’d just escaped death.
She tilted her head to meet his lips, wondering if this time the earth would stay still.
Heat electrified not just her lips but every cell in her body. Her head swirled in a sensual haze as his mouth tantalized, devoured, possessed. His tongue flicked against her lips and then met hers like a treat he’d been denied for too long. Savoring the taste of him, infused by the scent of him, she felt like she’d sunk into sensation. He teased her with gentle sucks and rhythmic thrusts she wanted endlessly. There was no resort, no beach, no world, only Jonathan’s kiss.
The feeling inside her was like opening the door of her perfect home.
He groaned against her lips. “I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.”
When she reached for him to draw him closer, he moved slightly, so they toppled down to the blanket, where his lips scorched her neck and collarbone, fueling her need to have him hard and deep and fast. Or maybe slow. Yes, slow, so slow.
He drew back to gaze at her. His lips were wet from their kisses, perfectly plump, oh, such exquisitely adept lips. He twirled the top button of her blouse with his fingers. “Hmm, if we’d like to go home, I should have a look for that body part I landed on.”
Desire shot through her breasts as she watched him undo her buttons, a one- by-one enticement he drew out over long minutes. His fingers strayed under her blouse as her skin came exposed. A groan sounded from his throat as he reached the final button and opened her blouse.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as he placed kisses across the top of her breasts. Her nipples puckered against her bra and ached to be suckled. Her heart sang in anticipation.
“You’re sure you want to keep playing now because to do this right means your bra has to come off.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but slid her blouse down her arms before she could protest. If she intended to protest, that is. Should she protest? It’d been easy to take her panties off in the dark, especially when she needed to distract and arouse him. But now she was too turned on to keep sight of her reason for restraint.
Yet, she should resist. Wouldn’t the other women who’d committed to the twelve-week relationship recovery course at least try to stick to the program? “You have a point.” She reached for her shirt. “Technically your turn is over. You’ve kissed my breast.”
“Stop right there. Damn, you’re beautiful in the firelight without a shirt. And my turn’s not over. The picture on the board shows lips over a nipple. I didn’t get to your nipples, but I’d like to.”
Oh, his lips on her aching-for-him-nipples. The thought drifted through her imagination, making her breasts alive with need. She lost all sense of time and space when her nipples were touched. Her hesitation was all he needed to slip his hands behind her, undo the clasp, and strip off her bra. As her breasts jiggled free, he gave a male sound of appreciation and her final resistance was torched.
His hand cupped her breast while his hot mouth fell greedily to her nipple. Every warning to beware the slippery road ahead flew out the window. She arched her back and melted into the sensations.
Oh, what pleasure. He laved her nipple with slow, erotic caresses of his tongue, intermixed with rougher nibbles as her peaks turned to hard buds. How could the flick of one man’s tongue focus her entire being so acutely on the sensations growing in her breasts and between her thighs? The sensuous stroke of his tongue would be her complete undoing. When his fingers rolled her other nipple into a tight bud, she no longer cared where the next roll might land her.
He answered her moans by moving lower. Her tummy trembled. When his hand moved under her skirt to nudge her thighs apart, she opened herself willingly. She wanted his touch, his lips, his thick shaft buried deep inside her. She’d seen him naked. He was thick.
His breath came fast and hot on her belly. “You are insanely desirable, and I’m not talking about your goddess-like body, but you, Isabelle, the woman you are. Never think any different. You drive me wild, sweetheart.”
He said all the right things. Could she love a body that drew men like ants to a picnic?
She was loving it now, loving that she drove Jonathan wild. She did feel desired, more so than she’d ever felt. Sexy, playful, wanting. Jonathan was about to take his turn further than prescribed, a fact she pushed under her mental carpet. As far as she was concerned, the game was on hold, nothing held her attention but the feel of his fingers’ caress over her panties.
“I’m going to play my request card now,” he said.
Request card? She tried to remember the instructions on the card he pulled earlier.
“I request that you watch me explore you. I dare you to follow my instructions.”
“Oh.” Her body trembled at the thought. Part of her pushed to protest, yet the idea of watching him touch her was just too much. She couldn’t say no, couldn’t resist for even a second. “I never shirk a challenge.”
His smile was white lightning seduction. “Then tonight is most definitely a night for firsts.”
With quick precision, he tossed two pillows behind her so she faced the fire. Slowly, his gaze slid up her legs, as he nudged them apart and knelt in between. Sweet anticipation caught in her throat and made her heart thump. Desire swirled in his eyes as he laid another kiss on her hipbone. Oh, how she wanted his kisses spread over her lower and deeper.
“Look at these thighs.” He made that deep male rumbling sound again, the one that vibrated through her.
She looked down. He rucked up her skirt while running his fingers lightly over the inside of her thigh. A breeze blew over her breasts, much like earlier on, the wind was a caress over her damp nipples. With her naked breasts stimulated by the elements and with Jonathan’s fingers appr
oaching her panties, her tummy was a warm vortex of sexual anticipation.
He did nothing but stroke lightly, so lightly, too lightly, her thigh, then slowly over her labia, then her thigh again. Her nub of divine bliss pulsed for attention, just a little touch now, please.
“Pull your panties aside for me.”
An erotic jolt surged through her. Her fingers moved. He knew how he’d teased her, how much she wanted more than light touches. She tucked her fingers inside the leg of her panties and revealed the center of her passion. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever done, watching herself come exposed, then watching him gaze.
He nudged her legs farther apart and drank her in with his eyes. She felt her breath draw in cool and then the warm rush out through her lips. She watched him explore her folds with his fingers as though she was a work of art that thoroughly satisfied him.
Every touch was heightened to the fullest as he probed, touched, and caressed. One of his fingers slipped inside her, then slick with her juices he circled over her pulsing clit. Oh, sweet bliss.
She closed her eyes for a moment and moaned.
Pleasure building.
She’d never felt so close to a climax so fast. She wanted to feel his tongue glide over her, but the game … she couldn’t ask it.
“Open your eyes, Isabelle.”
Two fingers slipped inside her. Oh my sweet heaven.
Had she really convinced herself that no good would come from heated sexual encounters?
Her body didn’t care one fig about her convictions.
She saw it about to happen. His head dipped and the sight of his lips closing over her clit in a kiss, the feel of his tongue swirling delicately was her undoing. She fell back against the pillows and let the world disappear, let there be nothing but sensations taking her away. Each slow stroke of his tongue seemed to grow in tenderness, yet the circling caresses became firmer as her nub pulsed and hardened. She was caught in something more than pure sensation, something deeper, something meaningful, something she’d never experienced before.
Her climax exploded throughout her body with his name on her tongue. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Didn’t realize he’d stripped off his clothes, but when he kissed his way back up her tummy and nudged between her legs, she drew her knees up and raised her hips to pull him in.
“Oh,” came her throaty whisper. Should she admit how badly she wanted him?
“I don’t care about the game, Isabelle, I forfeit. I must be inside you now.” His eyes, hooded in passion, melted any residual resistance and left her afloat in a pool of desire.
He disappeared for a second and when she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft, she realized he’d slipped on a condom. She stopped wondering what else was in that game box as the hard tip of him rested against her opening.
Chapter Ten
Jonathan drew in one long breath, then another. He was too close to the edge and his maddening desire perplexed him. He wasn’t inside her yet. One touch of her silken, slippery skin against his fingers, his lips, his tongue, his cock was too much.
She reached for his hand to thread her fingers through his. Beautiful against the pillows, her body lightly tanned, her face radiant in the firelight. He leaned down to flick her nipple with his tongue. The mewls that left her lips did nothing to stave his desire.
Her hips made slow circles against him. He stayed at her entrance and massaged her sensitive tissues.
“You feel so good, Jonathan. But I could take a little more.”
He kissed his way to her neck. Her hand slipped over his hip and under him to cup his balls. His groan was a rumble against her jaw. No more holding off. Either way, he wasn’t going to last long. His intent to focus on nothing but pleasing her had become rocket fuel to his own arousal. Not to mention, he’d melted Isabelle’s icy mantle. Earlier in the week, she’d made it clear she didn’t want any part of him.
She wanted him now. He was sure of it. He saw it in her eyes, yet he still sensed her vulnerability, that this was a big deal to her. Part of him wanted to protect her. A new feeling for him. The old part of him wanted to conquer and move on as he usually did. The old part felt comfortable, familiar, safe.
“A little further, then?” He couldn’t resist any longer. He slid in, meaning to tease her, meaning to give her no more than an inch.
He filled her to the hilt.
Sweet mercy.
Her breath pulled in a soft gasp as her legs tightened around his hips to hold him there. Her lips parted, her eyes heated and wondrous. She was his. Why did it matter? Their gazes locked and with the rhythm of every thrust, he felt bonded, closer and closer, by the passion that passed between them.
“Slow down,” she whispered and drew his lips to hers. Her kisses were fire and fervently seared his lips, teeth on his jaw, tongue on his earlobe. She gyrated her hips against him when he stilled. He met her movement, dallied in the space of her tight walls, until her inner muscles contracted around him.
He sucked in a breath. “Feels too good, sweetheart … can’t last much longer.” Had a woman ever felt this good?
With a tantalizingly slow pull, he drew back and plunged into her to the hilt. The way she met each thrust, tightening around him to milk him to the fullest, was more than he could take. The sweet sounds she made as he felt her climax around him sent him over the edge, farther then he’d ever been flung. His climax surged and exploded through him.
She panted against him, her body glistening in the firelight, as he rained kisses over her face and neck and tried not to collapse on top of her.
This was a night he didn’t want to end, a game he didn’t want to win. Nothing enticed him more than his desire to make love to Isabelle again, over and over and over, all night long.
Her soft smile spoke of sweet satisfaction. “The only part of me that can move is my heart. It’s pounding.”
No kidding. He almost didn’t trust himself to talk. He felt like an outpouring of sentiments might topple out of him, like the world had shifted, like he wouldn’t be the same again. “Yeah, that was pretty nice.”
“Yes … nice.” She brushed something from his cheek. The gesture was too tender, too nurturing, too loving. “Extraordinarily nice.”
“I wonder how we’ve affected the outcome of the game now?” He kept his tone casual and turned to the game in fear that she might express how mind-blowing their sex had been, and he’d feel pressured to agree that something unique was at work here, something that had nothing to do with the game.
She reached for her blouse. He wasn’t sure if hurt crossed her expression as she hid her face. A sensation sluiced through his heart, and he couldn’t move. He was too stunned by the feeling. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. They’d not known each other long enough, and he wasn’t ready for love.
“Whose turn is it?” she said. “We should finish quickly, so we can go home.”
He reached for his pants as she pulled her skirt on. He froze and watched her dress. The woman was too damn sexy. The elegance in her movement, the tilt of her hip, her fingers adeptly working. Fascination struck him as he felt himself growing hard again. If watching her dress was this arousing, what would it be like to watch her undress?
On the game board, both their pieces now sat on the finish square. He pulled on his shorts. “Look at that. The game appears to be over. By the way, I wasn’t kidding when I conceded, Isabelle. You win.” Having never been more turned on by a woman, there was no way he’d won Rhapsody.
“Well, now what?” she said. “How do we get home?”
Isabelle looked poised and satisfied. His heart was not engaged. Women in skimpy bikinis waited for him at the resort.
“Jonathan, look at the board. Is it changing, or is the fire-light affecting it?” The game seemed to have a glow. As he wat
ched, the letters spelling Rhapsody grew brighter.
His attention was riveted to the glowing board as the letters blurred and faded. “This better be a message with directions out of here.” As they watched for words to appear, the board continued to glow brilliantly.
He reached for it.
“No, don’t touch it.” Isabelle snatched his hand, although he’d not intended to touch, but only to get close, to see if the heat he felt came from the board. A moment later, his question was answered. They stepped back as sparks flew. The game cracked and hissed and exploded into flames.
“Oh no!” Isabelle dropped his hand to yank one of the pillows away from the burning game.
Jonathan snapped the blanket to flip the board onto the ground, then he kicked a mound of sand over the singed blanket. “What the hell was that?”
“It’s definitely game over now,” Isabelle said, although her attention wasn’t on the game, or on him, but fixed on a point over his shoulder. The wind picked up and breezed against his neck as he turned to follow her gaze.
No big surprise. Finn stood behind him.
Chapter Eleven
Isabelle felt Jonathan’s hand grip her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she felt relief or fright at Finn’s appearance. His powerful good looks made him seem approachable. So much so that for a moment she wondered what it would be like to make out with an Alfarian, men who lived for pleasure.
But only for a moment. His powerful good looks didn’t sink below her epidermis.
Finn’s gaze held hers, mesmerizing, tantalizing, as he smiled a promise of pure bliss. She looked away. Bloody mind reader.
“Well done,” Finn’s eyes basted her in a hot glaze from head to toe.
Jonathan’s grip tightened. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eyeball Isabelle like that.”
“You’re a touch possessive considering your level of commitment. I am merely making an assessment. Did you enjoy the game, Jonathan?”
Jonathan paused and glanced at Isabelle. “I did, but not your manipulative part in it.”
