He quirked a brow. "You don't give guys much credit."
"Correction. I didn't give the guys I'd slept with much credit. And anyway, I was too busy for an active sex life, so there were only a few."
"A few isn't a lot, is it?" he asked.
She sighed. "Not nearly enough."
"Is that why you're here? Because you wanted more in depth experience?"
She pushed her now empty plate to the side. "I guess so. I don't know, really. It's not like there are a ton of guys I could indulge my fantasies with in the tiny town where I live. Reputation and all."
He nodded. "Not seemly for a college professor to be seen cavorting at nudist camps and swingers parties, huh?"
She snorted a laugh. "I'd lose my job, and everything I've worked for."
"Why don't you move to a larger city? Where you could be a little more anonymous?"
"Roots, I guess. I grew up not far from there, so I just stayed in my own back yard."
"You have family nearby?"
She shook her head. "Not anymore. My parents are both dead and I have no other relatives."
"I'm sorry." He laid his hand over hers.
"Thank you. It was a long time ago, when I was barely out of high school. Stupid car crash on icy roads." All these years and still the pain of their loss clenched at her heart.
"How long ago?" he asked, obviously curious about her age.
"I'm twenty-eight, if that's what you're asking."
He didn't say anything, so she asked. "How old are you, Michael?"
"I'm thirty-three."
She'd guessed right.
"Must have been tough for you, trying to go to college and having no support."
"I managed."
"Is that what you're doing now, Serena? Just managing?"
She met his gaze. The concern etched on his features made her uncomfortable. His questions made her uncomfortable. She wasn't there to delve into anything but the sexual things lacking in her life. "I don't know. I guess."
"Managing isn't the same as living, you know. You've got a vibrancy, a natural zest for life and excitement that you're obviously not fulfilling in that dinky little hovel you live in. Vacations like this are fun and all, but eventually you have to go home."
"I'm doing fine," she asserted, not wanting to think about her real life during this week of adventure.
"Fine. Managing. This is fantasy, Serena. When you get back home next week, you'll be living. Or, should I say, 'managing.' It's not good enough. A woman like you shouldn't wither away in an unfulfilling existence. You need a different life."
She stood, intending to gather the plates and wash the dishes. Running, that's what she was doing. Running away from thoughts of how miserable her life was. She didn't need this, not right now, not when she'd just started to have fun.
Michael stopped her, his hand grasping her wrist before she could pile the plates in her arms. "Don't run away. Talk about this."
"Why?" she asked. "Why do you care about me? What we have together is only a week of fun and games. Nothing more. When it's over, you'll go back to California and I'll go back to Kansas, and that's the end. My personal life is none of your business."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. Anger and something else--frustration, maybe, etched his face. "Maybe not. But this week you're my business. And my pleasure."
He pulled her towards him and crushed his mouth to hers.
Chapter Five
Serena's toes curled. She welcomed this first kiss with Michael like she'd been starving for his mouth. Despite her irritation at his questions about her boring life, she wanted, needed his lips on hers. Those full, sensuous lips, that mouth she'd ached to taste since they'd first met.
He tasted like hot sex in the summer. Juice clung to his lips and she licked it off. His tongue swept into her mouth and grabbed for hers, twining and undulating like the magical dance of sex. Moisture pooled between her legs as his sensuous lips caressed hers. She knew then, knew that what she'd experienced earlier today, had only been a prelude to what would happen later.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him, pressing against his hardening shaft, knowing as well as he did that they had unfinished business. They had so much more to share.
Tearing his mouth away, he rained kisses down her throat, stopping to take a little nibble out of that spot where her neck met her shoulder. She shivered, delighting in the scrape of his teeth against her flesh.
His skin felt heated to her touch. She slipped her hands over his broad shoulders, then over his chest, tangling her fingernails into the crisp hairs, searching and finding his nipples. She flicked her thumbs over the flat nubs, feeling them bud to life.
Michael inhaled sharply.
"You like having your nipples touched," she whispered, pulling back to gaze into his darkening eyes.
"Yes," he rasped. "So do you." With one yank he pulled her tube top down, exposing her breasts and gathering them in his hands.
Michael drank in the sight of her breasts, feeling the weight of them with his hands. She was perfectly proportioned, curvy in all the right places. He didn't have to worry about breaking her if he held her too tight. Huge breasts and lush hips, a woman made for a man. His erection made its presence known, jutting up between them.
He pulled at her round, pink nipples until they distended like ripe strawberries. He ached to fit his mouth around them and suck them, wanted to draw them out with his lips, hear her gasp with pleasure like she'd done earlier today.
Her orgasm had ripped through him earlier, taking him on the same wild ride. Never before had he seen a woman let go so completely. She'd been completely immersed in the sensations at the voyeur room today, soaking in the sights and sounds of the erotic escapades before them. And wanted--no--demanded that she have her share.
What an amazing woman. And how easy it would be to get caught up with her, to want more than just a week of casual sex.
But that wasn't going to happen. Michael knew that. They had different lives in the real world. And he was a cynic, finished with any notion of love. Fucking was fine. Love was a dream--a forgotten fantasy. At least for him.
Serena needed to find a man to love her. Someone who would give her everything she craved.
He focused on her now, watching her green eyes darken with passion. Her mouth opened, those full lips begging for his kiss. Her breathing quickened every time he rubbed his palms over her swollen nipples.
What he wanted to do was sweep her up into his arms, carry her to his bed and fuck her all night long until this strange need for her went away.
But that wasn't what he was going to do. Taking her to his bed would be intimate, personal. Best to keep things between them the way he originally intended.
Fun and games, and fucking. And only at the events they'd scheduled for the week. Nothing more.
He dropped his hands to his sides, ignoring the stab of guilt he felt at the confused look on her face. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he said, "I've got some work to do. Think I'll go take some quiet time in my room and start on my plot outline."
Her bottom lip trembled, and she sucked it in. Probably so he wouldn't see her disappointment. Fuck. Now he felt like an asshole.
Well, why not? He was an asshole.
"Did you want to bounce some story ideas off me?" she asked, pulling her top up over her breasts.
"Nah, not right now. I'm beat, and not fit company for other humans."
"Did I do something to offend you?" she asked.
Shit. Now he really felt like a prick. "No. Not at all. I just don't want to start something I'll be too tired to finish." Yeah right. Like he'd ever be too tired to get naked with Serena.
"Oh. All right, then. I'm kind of tired myself. Think I'll head to my room and work for awhile."
"Good night."
He watched her walk away, knowing he'd hurt her feelings. He felt like kicking himself. Nothing like teasing the woman to a frenzied state of arous
al and then dumping her on her ass.
Nice move, Donovan. Real nice move.
*
Serena stood in the bathroom, irritated that she'd spent another sleepless night punching her pillow. She'd stared at the moon, its smiling craters mocking her, until the morning sun peeked in and she realized how fruitless attempts at sleep were.
She was such an idiot. What did she think was going to happen between them last night? That Michael would carry her to his bed and make love to her?
That wasn't what this week was about. It was about sex. Fucking, to be exact. Living out her fantasies. Not some dreamy, emotional involvement leading to romance.
When would she learn? For a year she'd planned this trip, looking forward to some impersonal, unemotional sex. And what had she found so far?
Nothing.
Except Michael. Hot, sexy, witty, adventurous Michael.
With a flick of her wrist the hairbrush went sailing across the bathroom counter, skidding to a halt at the very edge.
That's how she felt. On the edge. Itchy. Like she had a rash and desperately wanted to scratch it.
Sex. That's what she needed. What they'd done yesterday just whet her appetite for what could be. That's what she'd focus on today. Keep things impersonal between her and Michael. He was a mouth, hands and a penis. That's all. There to give her pleasure, and nothing more.
Figuring on spending the day by the pool, she threw on her skimpiest bikini and a see through cover up, slipped into her sandals, and tossed her unruly hair into a clip.
With a renewed resolve to toughen up, she threw open the door of the bedroom and sought him out.
There he was again, just like the day before--bare-chested, wearing shorts, and reading the paper out on the balcony. She sighed and grabbed a cup of coffee, poured in a touch of cream and flounced outside, determined to be cool, casual and unaffected.
"Morning," she said brightly.
He dropped one side of the paper and peered up at her warily. "Mornin'."
"Sleep well?" She sat and picked up a section of the newspaper, all but ignoring him.
"Fine," he grumbled.
She smiled behind the newspaper. Evidently he didn't sleep either.
"I slept like the dead. As soon as I went to my room I laid down and, boom, that was it."
"How nice for you."
Suppressing a giggle, she sipped her coffee silently.
"What's on tap for today?" he asked.
"Everything Oral," she stated matter-of-factly, despite the tingling between her legs at the thought of getting her mouth on that fine cock of his.
He didn't respond. Just grumbled.
"Feel like begging off?" she asked.
He pulled the paper away from her face, his mouth set in a grim line. "You got someone else picked out to suck on today?"
Men were so dense sometimes. "No. Just didn't want to force you to participate if you didn't want to."
"I can participate just fine."
"Fine, then."
"Fine."
That went well. He sure had a bug up his ass this morning. Cranky from lack of sleep, or regrets that he'd gotten involved in these escapades with her in the first place?
Yesterday he'd seemed fine about the whole thing, eager even. And he'd clearly enjoyed the Voyeurism Venture.
Last night, he'd been the one to initiate that kiss and what followed, and he'd been the one to stop it abruptly. So whatever bothered him, it was about him, not her. She wasn't going to spend another minute of time worrying about what crawled up his ass. When the time came for them to play, they'd play. When it was over, they'd go their separate ways.
Safer for both of them that way.
"I'm going to grab some fruit and head out to the beach until it's time for our event."
He dropped the newspaper into his lap and stared at her as if he were looking at her for the first time. His gaze roamed over her body, making her feel naked.
She liked that feeling. Liked knowing that the two little triangles barely covered her breasts, and the thong bottom had little more than a scrap to cover her mound.
What she liked most was the way his eyes darkened and his breathing stilted.
It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but then he closed his mouth. "Have fun."
"I'll be back later." He didn't respond, so she grabbed her beach bag and headed out the door.
The beach was gorgeous. Pale sand and comfortable lounge chairs littered the pool area, just steps away from the turquoise ocean. Serena breathed in the salty sea spray and the sweet tropical flowers and smiled up at the warming sun.
The resort was completely secluded, the only habitated place on the island. Other than the various buildings, the entire place was completely private.
She spread her blanket over the cushioned chaise and lathered lotion on her body, then untied her halter strings so she wouldn't get tan lines. Not that there was much to the material, anyway. As it was, she should just tan naked. Most of the other guests were.
And some of them had seen her all but naked yesterday. So why did it matter?
Midwestern values, she supposed. And body image, like most women. She was no fashion model, that was for certain. She was simply--average. Some things she could get past, others would obviously take some time, if ever, to put by the wayside.
The sun relaxed her and after awhile she shifted over onto her stomach, feeling drowsy. Before long she felt herself drifting off. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but a voice brought her around.
"Serena."
She lifted her head and saw Michael sitting in the chaise next to her.
"How long have you been sitting there?" she asked, stifling a yawn.
"About a half hour. You were out cold."
She stretched to clear the sleep cobwebs from her head, retied her halter, then turned around and lifted the chair to a sitting position.
He'd brought her a glass of iced tea. "Thanks," she murmured, taking a giant swallow. The sun was hot today, and the cool liquid sliding down her throat was a welcome relief.
Something else sliding down her throat later would be even better, she thought, eyeing Michael.
"Want to take a dip in the ocean?" he asked, putting the book in his lap on the table between them.
"Sure." A splash of cold water was exactly what she needed to bring her to a fully awake mindset. Although thinking about sucking his cock sure woke up certain parts of her quickly.
He rose and held out his hand for her. She looked at him, warmed by the first genuine smile she'd seen on his face all day. Maybe they'd both been grumpy and simply needed some distance. She definitely felt better after a little nap.
The water was cool, but not unpleasant. They waded in, hand in hand before Michael let go and dove under the surf. Serena stood in the water, waiting for him to surface.
He didn't. She turned around, feeling suddenly nervous, when suddenly she felt a tug on her ankle and she slipped under the water. She surfaced quickly--sputtering and spitting water out of her mouth. When she cleared her eyes of the stinging salt spray, she saw Michael treading in front of her, a boyish grin on his face.
"Jerk," she said, but couldn't hold back the smile.
"Couldn't help it," he said. "You were an easy target."
They swam out a distance to a floating dock and jumped out to sit and catch their breath, leaving their feet dangling in the water.
Being with Michael felt nice. Perfect. They sat comfortably together, their hips and shoulders touching.
"I was grouchy this morning. Sorry," he finally said.
"Me too. Don't worry about it. Neither of us has gotten much sleep since we got here."
He arched a brow. "I thought you said you went right to sleep last night."
She felt her face heat, and knew it wasn't from the sun. "I lied."
He laughed and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. His gaze lingered, as did his hand against her cheek.
Please, plea
se kiss me. She needed to feel that closeness with him, that bonding of lips against lips, the most intimate of the sexual acts they'd share this week. His mouth was heaven...soft and romantic, leaving her breathless with desire. Bring me to life, Michael. I only have one week. I need you.
She didn't care that it meant nothing, that it wouldn't be personal or romantic. She simply needed it.
He must have read her mind, because he cupped his hand behind her neck and pulled her face towards his, pressing a salty kiss to her lips. She sighed and breathed in the scent of him, so masculine and powerful like the sea surrounding her. His tongue lightly tangled with hers and her mind drifted to an image of the two of them on the dock, stripped naked with him poised above her, driving his big cock between her wide spread legs.
They could go at it right here, right now, and no one would think anything of it. But then again, it wouldn't be within the confines of their scheduled activities, and that's where their sex games should stay.
More impersonal that way. She couldn't help the desire to get more personal with him right now.
"It's almost time," he whispered after he pulled back from the kiss.
His voice broke the spell of fantasy she weaved, brought her back to the reality of being with him again--intimately, erotically. "I know."
"I've wanted to taste you. Been thinking about it a lot."
Visions of their bodies entangled, their mouths sucking and licking anywhere and everywhere they desired, flew through her mind. "I've wanted to suck your cock, Michael. I want that sweet taste of you in my mouth again. You know I only had a slight little flavor of you cross my lips yesterday."
"Yes, same for me. That one little taste of your sweet pussy left me hungry for more. I'm going to make you come today, Serena, with my tongue. Over and over and over again.
She sucked in a breath, suddenly unable to think about anything except the promise in Michael's deep blue eyes.
His gaze swept over her body--everywhere his eyes touched a caress against her heated skin. "You ready?"
She nodded, and they swam back to shore. Serena raced upstairs and jumped in the shower. She dried her hair, put on a little makeup, then chose her outfit for the adventure.
She smiled, thinking about Michael undressing her, revealing her skin bit by bit, his mouth licking and biting every part of her. And then she'd do the same to him. Dampness pooled between her thighs and her libido fired up hot and ready.