“Shopping, where else?” Willing herself not to look at him, Cassandra forced a chuckle, the same one she used whenever customers told the same bad joke she’d heard a hundred times before. “The sales are on in Puerto Banus and she’s been dying for a chance to splurge.”
She could do this, it was just Mr Street.
The man she had known almost as long as she could remember.
Who had indulged her girlish princess fantasies when she was eight and promised to marry her when she was grown up.
That used to take her and Stacey to dance class every Saturday.
Her best friend’s recently divorced and sexy as hell dad, who she’d spent years fantasising about.
David couldn’t help another chuckle of his own. His daughter was nothing if not consistent. “Ah yes, as you said, where else.” He took another sip of his cocktail, a crystal drop of condensation rolling down the glass to touch his lips as the sun beat down on them, the air growing hotter by the moment. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
Considering the already almost half empty glass before deciding he’d had enough for now, he laid it down gently in a shady spot before rounding on her. “So she just left you here all alone?”
The concern in his tone was so disarming, Casandra met his gaze without thinking and touched his shoulder with a placating hand. The contact sent a thrill racing through her fingertips. “It’s okay, I don’t really feel like hitting the town now and anyway I’m not alone, you’re here with me.” The words were out before she could stop them, and the confession made her cheeks burn. Yet she didn’t look away.
Yes, she was all alone with her bestie’s daddy at his Gibraltar Villa.
Out in the wilds, miles from anywhere or anyone who could hear her scream- or beg as his sexy mouth did such wicked things between her... Dammit!
Why did he always make her feel this way?
Then Stacey’s words echoed in her ears. The best way to get over a man is under one...
“You poor girl,” David cooed playfully. “Trapped on the Rock with just this decrepit old man for company.”
She couldn’t resist the bait. “Aww... you’re not so old, and the silver fox look is a classic for a reason.”
“Cheeky minx!” he snapped in mock outrage, but couldn’t keep the corner of his mouth from curling. “You’re not too old to go over my knee you know, young lady.”
She shrieked girlishly, playing along in her best upper-class voice and squealed “Oh no, don’t spank me, please Mr Street!”
The mock innocence of the words sent a thrill racing down to the base of David’s spine, igniting thoughts of her bending over to bare the full swells of her luscious derriere for his judgement, trembling slightly as she awaited the sting of his hand striking her flawless skin.
Just the thought of it stirred his desire to a rod of iron.
“No, really,” he forced out, crossing his legs, inwardly cursing and trying in vain to coax the beast back into its cage. “What are you doing here with me? Why didn’t what’s-his-name come along, ugh... you know, that guy with the funny hair...”
“Nathan.”
Just saying his name brought the taste of ash to her mouth. No, she didn’t want to think about him, not here, not with Mr Street, when she’d just been starting to forget him. But the dam had cracked, and no sooner had the words left her lips, her eyes had begun to burn with hot, salty tears as all her buried emotions suddenly boiled to the surface. “He dumped me.”
“Oh God, Cass, I’m... I’m so sorry.” David didn’t know what else to say. What else was there to say?
He’d never met the boy, but Stacey had told him about Cassandra’s new boyfriend once or twice and there had been a few pictures of the two together on Facebook.
He’d rather reminded him of Justin Biber.
He had a face he just wanted to smack.
Somehow however, he got the feeling voicing that thought wouldn’t help very much.
He’d never really been a great one for dealing with emotions. It was one of the reasons his ex-wife had listed as grounds for divorce. Siting him as a cold, unreachable iceberg of a man who had sucked all the joy and happiness from her life. She had even gone so far as to use it to justify her rampant extramarital nymphomania, saying it was just a way of seeking the warmth of human comfort. The honourable judge Blackwood had been sympathetic but expressed the suggestion that if that was the case, he would have thought one lover would have been enough, rather than five. For his part, David had just said he was one of old school and as such, an ardent follower of the philosophy actions speak louder than words. With the dedication and spirit of all true believers, heedless of his body’s treacherous desire, he wrapped an arm around her and drew her close.
She was shaking as all of the unsaid hurt and emotion that had welled up inside her suddenly burst its banks. “He said I was dull and boring and passionless and couldn’t-” Her words dissolved into thick wet sobs as the tears came and she just buried her face into the crook of his neck.
David couldn’t bear it.
“Then he’s a fool,” he promised, crushing her to him. “You’re a wonderful person Cass. You deserve better than that and you should be with someone who knows how special you are, who knows how lucky he is to have you.”
She didn’t respond, just kept sobbing, so he held her close and waited for the storm to pass. Yet his little brain couldn’t help but notice how well she fit in his arms, the sun-warmed softness of her skin, and the way the heavy weight of her full breasts were squashed against his chest.
No, dammit, don’t think like that you dirty old sod!
He chided himself, but when he took a breath to clear his brain, he only inhaled the sweet fragrance of her hair, still with hints of her wild berry scented shampoo.
Then it was suddenly over. She was still, her breathing deep and even as she looked up at him from beneath her dark bangs, the last wet tear sparkling down her cheeks in the sunlight. “Thanks, Mr Street... er Stacey told the same thing.”
“Well she’s not often wrong.” He forced a reassuring grin.
She blushed and looked away, out towards the coast, unable to meet his eyes, while resisting the urge to snuggle closer. Cassandra revelled in their closeness, the feel of his arms enveloping her, holding her close and tight.
She never wanted the moment to end. “I’m sorry... I don’t know what came over me.” She made to pull away...
Except David wouldn’t let her go. “It’s okay, we all need to let go sometimes,” he soothed gently, cupping her chin and gently turning her to face him, before gently brushing the tear away with his thumb. “Break-ups can be tough.”
They were so close, Cassandra felt like she was getting drunk on him. His scent, his warmth, his very presence was enveloping her, intoxicating her. All it would take was one little push onto tiptoes, and she would finally know if those lips tasted as good as she’d imagined.
“Was that how it was for you? With your divorce?” The words were out before she could stop them, and when his hand dropped away she would have done anything to take them back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... forget I said anything. It’s none of my business.”
Again he held her fast, refusing to let her pull away, denying her any chance of escape.
“No, no it’s fine,” he urged, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “My marriage was over years ago, it just took me a while to figure it out. Then I just didn’t want it to, so I threw myself into my work to avoid it, but it was only a matter of time. After that, well I just didn’t really care anymore.”
She couldn’t help herself. There was an edge to his voice she’d never heard before. It sounded darkly dangerous, and very sexy. “So it doesn’t bother you at all?”
“It did, at first,” he growled. “When I found out, but not because of what she’d done. Only that she’d done it behind my back, rather than just come out and tell me she wanted a divorce.”
“Did she say anything aft
er?”
“No, what was there to say?” he said simply, before reaching down for his cocktail and bringing it up to his mouth. Cassandra’s mouth dried as he swallowed the colourful contents of the glass, his head arching back and the muscles of his neck rising and falling while the first drops of perspiration rolled down his skin.
Cassandra’s nails bit into her palms. They were close enough for her to lean in and lick up the drops.
“Do you blame yourself for... what happened?”
“No.” He shrugged, then laughed. He actually laughed, a deep rich sound that rolled over her like dark chocolate. “We just married too young, settled down too soon, then grew apart. Becky wanted one thing, and I wanted another.”
Their eyes met, and the contact sent a fresh wave of heat and awareness ebbing through her. Instinctively she looked away. “So... what are you drinking? “
“This?” He raised the near empty glass, almost as if he was toasting her. “It’s a Tequila Sunset.”
Cassandra arched a brow. “Isn’t it a bit early?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” David shrugged, his eyes bright with mischief. “And hey, when in Spain...”
“But isn’t Tequila Mexican?”
“Smart ass,” he grinned ruefully. “Actually, the indigenous Mexican Indians did brew a fermented liquor from the same plant. What we know as Tequila was concocted by the Conquistadors after their brandy ran out, making Tequila actually Spanish and Spain’s only indisputable, worthwhile contribution to western civilisation. Just the thing for out here in the tropics. All the kick but none of the mess.”
He raised the glass to finish it, but at the sight of the drink swirling within the glass, Cassandra couldn’t resist. “Could I try? Just a sip.”
“My dear girl, there’s nothing but a sip left.”
“Please Mr Street, I left my water in the kitchen and it’s so warm out here...” she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
Tempting minx
David cursed inwardly, his cock twitching at her little act. Dammit, the thing would start hurting if he didn’t get out of here. Forcing his smile to stay in place though he shifted ever so slightly to pass her the glass. “Help yourself.”
And that was when she saw it.
It was only a momentary glance as she reached to take the offered drink, but it was enough. Enough for her to note the bulge straining against his thigh through the fabric of his shorts, thick and huge. Enough to send a shiver racing through her. Enough to have her grabbing the offered cocktail and downing it.
God, had she done that to him.
Then their eyes met again, over the rim of the empty glass, and the warmth the spirit raced down to burn between her legs. It made her brave, ready to take a leap.
Still holding his gaze, she lowered the glass back to the ground, before slowly sliding her tongue across her lips, collecting the last of the fruit-laced bravery there. Then, moaning a throaty purr, she asked “Mr Street, would you mind putting some sunscreen on my back for me?”
David’s blood ran cold at the question.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Cass”
Yes, that was it. Cass was the name he always used when he was playing the role of the adult. That was what he needed now, to be an adult, to set boundaries. To get the hell out of here and back to his office before he did something really stupid.
However Cassandra glimpsed his other head twitching against its prison.
“Aww, how come?” she cooed, all innocence and sweetness, scooping up and offering him her bottle of factor 40, silently praying her nerve held. “Please, Mr Street. You don’t want me to get burned now, do you?”
David stared at the bottle like it was a coiled viper, poised to strike. This was his last chance. He needed to go. Just get up and go back inside, he could do it. Just get up and go. He had to, before...
Taking it from her, he rose up and walked around her lounger to stand over her before popping the cap. “Roll over.”
The command was clipped and said with such primal authority, it sent a fresh shiver of excitement tingling through Cassandra. She obeyed immediately. Rolling onto her front, she pulled the wash of her raven hair aside before starting on the fastenings of her top.
“I think that’s going too far.”
“But I’ll have tan lines Mr Street,” she implored, barely able to keep still for the thought of his hands on her bare skin. Just managing to finger the knot loose despite the knots in her tummy, she added sweetly, “I know you’ll be a gentleman and not look.”
“Of course not,” he bit out, squeezing a generous amount of the sunscreen onto his palm before smearing a long line across her shoulder blades. It wasn’t cold. Not after a morning sitting out under the Mediterranean sun, but she shivered and squirmed all the same as his hand circled around and around, teasing down her long neck and across her shoulders, massaging it in.
He worked until it had all been applied, and then kept going. Her skin was just so warm, so butter soft. He couldn’t get enough.
And nor could Cassandra.
“Mmm... that feels so nice Mr Street... mmm... lower,” she panted, burying her face in the lounger to keep him from spying the blush heating her face. God, what was she doing? This was Mr Street, her best friend’s dad.
This was insane, but she didn’t care.
She’d been dreaming of this moment. This intimacy with him.
Cassandra had craved the feeling of his hands sliding over her skin, the sensations those big, powerful hands would send sizzling straight down to her throbbing centre.
If this was her one moment with him, then she intended to make it count and enjoy every second of it.
David was happy to indulge her and applied a fresh squeeze of lotion.
Guided by her soft, kittenish moans, he worked his way down the delicate curve of her back, his thumb playing along her spine like the strings of a violin while his fingers danced along her ribs. Accidentally, one finger brushed along the side of her milky white breast and she sucked in a breath that made his cock tighten and twitch.
Fuck this was bad. He needed to get out of here, away, back to the safety of his office. A place he could look but not touch. Never touch! This was Cassandra for Christ’s sake. His daughter’s best friend. Her fucking flatmate!
Needing to put some much-needed distance between them, he manoeuvred to the base of the lounger, dragging his hands around the contours of her upturned derriere and down her gloriously long legs. He tried to focus, to clear his thoughts, but the distance only made it easier for him to devour the vision of her stretched out before him. His eyes immediately locked onto the small triangle of white material between her legs. Still slightly damp from her earlier swim, her folds were clearly visible against the fabric, the nub of her clit swollen and pleading for attention, betraying her arousal.
This was affecting her just as much as it was him.
And that revelation made it impossible for him to pull away.
He worked his way back up from her ankle and along her calf. Stroking and brushing, his touch as light and teasing as a feather, the premise of applying the lotion forgotten, making her writhe and moan. Then as his fingers brushed over her inner thighs, she raised her hips and subtly parted her legs just that bit wider, opening herself to him.
It was all the permission he needed.
Cassandra couldn’t stand it. His hands were working her into a frenzy, making her skin tingle wherever he touched. She had to grab the edges of the lounger to battle against the urge to slip a hand beneath her suit and sooth the fire throbbing between her legs.
Was this really happening?
Was she really letting him do this?
Him! Mr Street, her best friend’s daddy, was touching her! No, not just touching her, massaging her, seducing her with his every touch. How long had she dreamed of this moment, of his hands on her skin, sliding up her legs, finger tips pressing higher and higher and-
She bit
down on a surprised squeak as something brushed across her folds.
David slowly brushed his thumb along her folds, tracing them through the swimsuit, feeling the heat and wetness burning there. Somewhere deep, deep down, the moral man he’d been was desperately trying to drag his hand away. Screaming that this was wrong, that they needed to stop, but he couldn’t resist. All her sexy little moans were driving him crazy.
Cassandra didn’t object, nor did she move at all. She lay still beneath him, trembling as goose flesh rose up and down her legs, her breath coming hot and ragged as he stoked the liquid heat throbbing in her core.
This wasn’t the sweet and innocent girl he’d known and watched playing with dolls, pretending to be a Disney princess. That child was gone. She was a woman now. A lush and beautiful creature, with all a woman’s primitive hungers and needs.
She needed him.
And he was happy to oblige, gently pressing down, rubbing the pad of his thumb around her, feeling the heat burn. His fingers traced along the line of her thong, teasing around the fabric. His fingers caressed along her inner thighs before pushing beneath her suit into lush heat, making her gasp and roll her hips against him, inclining back and opening herself completely to his invading digits.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “This is a very bad idea.”
“No!” she sobbed in protest, squeezing her eyes shut against the rush of tingling pleasure as his finger curled to stroke the spot. “Please I’ve wanted this for so long, Mr Street- oh!” Her breath caught when his thumb strummed her covered clit, making her writhe beneath him. “I-I-I won’t tell anyone... please, I’ll be... such a good girl for you... I’ll never tell a soul... please...”
“Good, because even if I wanted to, I can’t stop now,” he promised, withdrawing the finger from her heat and offering it to her, teasing the pad across her soft pink lips. Obediently Cassandra opened and her pink tongue flicked out, tentatively tasting the cream coating the digit. She drew him in and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked it clean.
Romancing the Tropics Page 2
