by Shayla Black
because I was a man of honor. I just didn’t know it yet.”
With her free hand, she cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. I’m having a hard time keeping myself together. I can’t even look at her right now. What the hell is going on? It’s as if Keeley has found all my weak spots and is determined to poke at them one by one.
“Do you know it now?” she asks softly.
I think—hard. “I’m not sure.”
The frown that furrows her brow again upsets me. She takes another pull of the wine. “Are you wearing the watch?”
“Never. I keep it in a safe deposit box.”
“Didn’t he give it to you to wear?”
It’s an obvious but somehow baffling question. Granddad probably had, but I’d always thought it was too valuable and breakable. So I locked it away. “No. He gave it to me to keep safe, so that’s what I do. You’ve asked me a million questions. Tell me more about you. Keeley Sunshine isn’t your real name, I’m guessing.”
“No. It’s Keeley Kent. Not much to tell. I’m an open book. Grew up in Phoenix. Since shortly after high school graduation, I’ve moved around, looking for a place that fits me. I started in San Diego. It didn’t feel right—or maybe I hated the letch who owned the restaurant where I waitressed—so I made my way up the coast. Frisco wasn’t for me since all the guys I thought were hot didn’t play for my team. Seattle was too rainy. That’s where I picked up my ex, who suggested Maui. And here I am.”
A part of me wonders if this girl has ever done permanence but I guess I shouldn’t care. We’re two ships, and she’ll probably pass me by after tonight. That’s cool. I’ll be more than happy to dock in her port once or twice before we sail on.
“What do you want to be, Keeley?”
She frowns as if that’s a bizarre question, then avails herself of more wine. “What does anyone want to be? Happy.”
I wonder if she intentionally misunderstood my question, then I realize that’s exactly what she wants. I barely know her, but I see now that how she reaches happy is irrelevant to her as long as it works out.
That concept has never once crossed my mind in thirty-three years. I’ve always known I want to be at the top of the food chain, so to speak. I’ve never stopped to question whether that would make me happy.
I blink, taken aback.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks.
“No. It’s actually…an interesting answer.”
And still I realize I would rather be successful than happy. I don’t even hesitate. After all, what’s happy, really? I’m not sure happy would fulfill me the way wiping the floor with my competitors does.
Keeley cocks her head and her pillowy lips softly part before wrapping around the neck of the bottle again. “I’m not sure ‘interesting’ is good.”
“We’re just different. That’s all right.” I can’t stop staring at her mouth.
“I suppose. Tell me about your family.”
I’m frustrated. I want to kiss this girl so badly. I have no doubt taking her to bed will be amazing, but I feel an urge to lay my lips over hers—not to silence her but to make sure she feels the chemistry between us. The desire is so strong it nearly chokes me. But she needs to know me to be comfortable. I’m not sure why that matters so much to me, but somehow it does.
“We moved here from L.A. when I was fifteen. My parents headed back to California a few years ago. They took my little sister with them. Harlow will be twenty-six next month. You’d like her.”
“What a pretty name. You two close?” She takes another sip.
I shrug. Probably not as close as we should be. “We talk now and then. She’s been busy finishing her master’s and planning her wedding, so she’s got a lot going on, too.”
“Have you met her fiancé?”
“No. They’re supposedly getting married on the island in May, so I guess I will then.” Which means I’ll have to see Griff. “What about you?”
“I’m an only child, and my mom and stepdad have turned into crazy world travelers since retiring. I think they’re on a South Pacific cruise right now.” She fixes her gaze on me. “Didn’t you say you had a brother, too?”
I really don’t want to get into this now. Griff will be between us soon enough. I want Keeley all to myself tonight. “Yeah. He’s an asshole who lives two miles down the road. We don’t speak.”
“Why?” The feeling she breathes into that word makes it sound like the biggest tragedy ever.
How much do I tell her? I’d rather not dredge this up. I don’t owe her anything. Yet I know she won’t stop asking me questions until I give her something. “We used to be in business together until a professional disagreement. Then, just for fun, he decided to start sleeping with my ex-girlfriend three days after we ended a two-year relationship.”
“Ouch.” She winced. “Did he say why?”
“I don’t give a shit why.” Every time I think about that period in my life, I get worked up and pissed off. “Look, Keeley. I like you. And I want you. I’m not good at talking or relationships or letting people know me. I’m good in bed. Can that be enough for tonight?”
I find myself holding my breath. If she says no, I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do. After a handful of probing questions, I already feel oddly raw. I rub at a sore spot along my breastbone.
“Yes. Sorry. I have a terrible tendency to be nosy. You’re interesting…and I really am not a fan of sleeping with strangers. But I think I know who you are, Maxon… Damn it. What’s your last name?” She gives an embarrassed little laugh. “Oh, that sounds brilliant.”
Her joke totally lightens the mood. I need that. “Reed.”
“Well, Maxon Reed, are you going to stand there all night or kiss me in the moonlight?”
The second I get the green light, my tolerance for banter flies out the window. I become a hunter who’s just settled on his prey of choice, and I’m looking forward to fully sating my hunger.
I don’t bother with words. Instead, I take the bottle from her hands and set it in the sand beside us. Then I fuse my stare to hers and tilt her head where I can most effectively devour her. Her eyes flash with something. Excitement, yes. Apprehension. That surprises me but no denying what I see. And hope… Maybe she’s not the only one feeling unexpected things.
Then she parts those bee-stung lips again, and all my thoughts dissolve.
I lower my head and kiss her with a groan.
Fuck if her lips aren’t every bit as soft as I imagined. She opens to me, presses against me, wrapping her arms around my neck like she needs to touch me every bit as much as I’m dying to have her bare against me. I’m sizzling, my senses reeling. I’m actually dizzy the longer I kiss her, but I urge her lips apart with my own and plunge inside.
I’m lost.
She’s so sweet. Not like a Snickers, which I love. Her flavor is more refined, and the pleasure I get from her is like savoring a good red wine paired with a lush dark chocolate. Then she kisses me back with a sensual sway of her tongue and an indrawn breath that lets me know I’m getting to her, too.
I’m drowning.
My hands are suddenly in her hair, tugging until she gives me full access to every part of her mouth. I go in even deeper as if I’m trying to own her all at once. I haven’t had the sort of drought she has, but I can’t imagine another five minutes without being inside her, taking full possession of her. It’s chemical. It’s electric. I don’t know how the fuck to describe it because I’ve never felt anything quite like this.
Suddenly, she breaks away from my kiss, nipping at my lips like a kitten, before tilting her head back completely. Her lips aren’t on mine anymore.
I’m dying.
Not kissing her is unacceptable. Then…I see the arch of her delicate throat. She’s exposed one of the most vulnerable parts of herself to me. Her ivory flesh glows in the moonlight. Even in the pale gleam, I see the flush staining her skin. I hear the catch of her breathy inhalations. I feel the hard beads
of her nipples against my chest. How can I absorb her all at once, experience every facet of her in a single moment? I can’t, but I’m damn impatient to try.
“Maxon?” She sounds shaky, uncertain.
I rush to set her at ease. “Why are you so fucking beautiful?”
“If you think I am, I’m glad. Are you going to touch me now?”
She sounds breathless and anxious. Does she imagine for a second that I might say no? As if.
“Yeah, sunshine. As much as you’ll let me.” I dip my head, fists in her pink tresses as I brush my lips up her throat. She’s so damn soft all over that I have to groan again.
Then her lips beckon once more, and I’m pulling her against me, back under me. I capture her lips, mold them under my own. Tonight, she shouldn’t have her lips anywhere except against mine—unless they’re around my cock, of course. But I can’t lift my head to tell her because I’m kissing her too thoroughly. My hands drift down her body, imprinting her curves into my memory. My fingers bite into her waist with urgency. It’s not enough. I want more of her. I don’t care if we come up for air. I hope she feels the same.
She must because she melts into me, her lips opening in teasing welcome. She wants me…but she wants me to work for it. You know what? I’m good with that. I always enjoy something more that I’ve earned.
So I’m going to be worthy of every scream of her pleasure.
I focus on nothing but Keeley. The moon and the waves and the sand disappear. Right now, only she and I share this space, this moment. I let the aphrodisiac of her flavor intoxicate me again. Like before, she goes straight to my head and I feel a special kind of drunk on her. I taste her lips, take her tongue. My right hand drifts down to cup her ass. I’ve got to touch her everywhere. She’s responding, her breathing heavier. She clutches my shoulders and holds me tight against her. Her left leg curls around my calf, her thigh sliding up mine.
My restraint snaps.
I plunge into her mouth full force. Like a skydiver at fifteen thousand feet, my belly tumbles into free fall. Gravity has nothing on this pull. What’s happening between us is a natural phenomenon all its own.
“I want you now.” I look at her. God, I can’t stop. I scan her eyes. They’re dilated, half-dazed, and so fucking soft. “Keeley?”
“What’s happening between us?”
“I don’t know.” Right now, I don’t care about anything except feeling her, getting inside her, putting my stamp on her.
“I want you now, too,” she admits in a breathy whisper, then kisses me once, twice, grabbing at my neck and pulling me down for a third.
No way I’m resisting.
I meld our mouths together again and cup her ass with both hands. God, she fills my palms, firm and plush and stunning. But I want the rest of her. I can’t wait anymore.
I lift her against my body, and she automatically wraps her legs around me, then devours me with a demanding kiss once more. Fuck, yeah. I’m already mentally inside her as I head for the rocks on the west side of the beach that provide the property privacy from the housing development hugging Oneloa Bay on the other side of the inlet.
It’s more of a hike than I thought. I’m not winded, just impatient. Keeley is, too. She’s climbing my body like she can’t get close quickly enough to keep her sanity.
Finally, we reach the rocky edge of the beach. I set her on one of the massive, water-smoothed stones. It’s dry now with the tide out, but come early morning, this place will be submerged.
The few seconds it takes me to steady her, Keeley dives into my shirt, unfastening one button after the other until she exposes my chest.
When the last one comes free, she shoves my shirt off my shoulders, grabs me for a frantic kiss, then sits back and stares, mouth gaping. “Oh, my god. You’re so perfect it’s disgusting.”
I shake my head. I’m hardly without flaw, but I won’t argue. My shoulders square. I puff my chest out—just a little. I want to keep impressing her, you know? Then I slide my hand up her thigh. Such silky-smooth skin. Firm. Enticing. Can I be inside her in the next thirty seconds?
My other hand follows the first, palming my way clear up to her hip. Holy shit. “You’re not wearing underwear?”
She peels her lips off my neck and breathes in my ear. “What? No. The dress showed panty lines. Is being commando a problem?”
“Are you kidding?”
I want to applaud her for making this process faster and easier. This is one efficiency I’ll never waste. But as I shove her dress up and bare her legs one alabaster inch at a time, I lose my ability to speak, so it’s a good thing she doesn’t want me for my verbal skills.
I tell her what I want without words, spreading her legs and looming between them. I tug the dress up higher, eager to see her natural hair color. Obviously, it isn’t pink.
But when I expose her pussy, she’s utterly bare. “Oh, sunshine…”
She spreads her legs a little wider. “You like me this way?”
I have a feeling I’ll enjoy her every way I can have her. But I want to put whatever worries she has to rest. “Oh, yeah. I like everything about you.”
Keeley flashes me something that isn’t quite a smile. Emotion blooms in her eyes, then makes its way to her wobbling lips. “I like you, too.”
Then she reaches for the cheetah-print sash she’s tied into a bow with a saucy tilt at her hip and pulls it free. With a tug, the dress unwraps and she’s completely naked, except for a black bra that looks strappy, lacy, and strains to contain her breasts. The swells at the top spill above the little garment and make my heart stutter.
“Take it off?” I’m trying not to sound like a demanding prick, but I’m not really asking.
Thankfully, she seems to understand and reaches behind her. A second later, it’s falling free onto the nearby rock. Then she leans back on her hands, bathed in moonlight, and blinks up at me with big blue eyes.
I’m never saying no to that.
Under her terrible dress is an absolute treasure. I can’t stop staring.
“You’re so damn beautiful. I feel like the luckiest bastard in the world right now.”
It probably sounds trite, like something a horny guy says to the girl he’s hoping to nail. But I’m serious. I’ve taken gorgeous women to bed, so I’d know. I don’t think Keeley would fit into any conventional definition of beauty, but there’s something about her. It’s as if I can see her soul just by looking into her eyes. I’m sure that sounds stupid. It’s new to me, that’s for damn sure. Keeley said earlier that she’s an open book. I believe her. She looks open to me in every way—eyes raised to my stare, lips parted, posture unguarded, legs spread. She is a woman giving her all to the man standing before her without hesitation or reservation.
I drag in a sharp breath as I watch her, feeling primal, possessive. My blood pounds. There’s something inside my chest that’s feeling soft like a marshmallow the longer I stare at her. I’ve never felt anything like this. I don’t welcome the sensation.
But I don’t have any control over it.
Looking back, that should have been my first clue that she would have the power to destroy me.
“I’m glad,” she whispers. “Aren’t you going to touch me?”
Definitely. Where the hell do I start? Every part of her demands my attention. She looks soft all over, like she’ll be a delight to my fingertips from tousled hair to toes. My mouth waters at the sight of her pert nipples. Peachy-pink and perfectly symmetrical, they’re stunning—like the rest of her. Her ivory flesh cascades down to a torso that tells me she’s healthy but not a slave to the gym. The night shields the secrets of her pussy. I know she’s bare, but I want details I can’t see while she’s shrouded in shadow. Even more, I smell her.
And I’m speechless. Good thing Keeley wants action, not words.
I manage a jerky nod, then all but tear away my belt buckle. Afterward, I unsnap the button. My zipper falls next. I fish the condom from my pocket. These interminable
moments I can’t touch her are pure torture, but I finally manage to shove my clothes aside and slide the latex down my cock. It’s throbbing in time with the rapid beat of my heart. Gong, gong, gong. The sensations are like some euphoric high. I haven’t touched drugs since I was a punk-ass kid rebelling against my dad, but this is more potent. Right now, she has me by the balls without laying a hand on me.
This craving for her will go away after the orgasm, right?
“Maxon?”
I give her a rough nod and step closer. “With you.”
