Did she sense a little male jealousy in that question? No, just her imagination. "Hardly. I never date other faculty members."
"Why not?"
"I already told you. I couldn't...do what I do with you with any of them."
"Again, why not?"
She sighed. "Not conducive to tenure to get caught fucking one of the other professors. Besides, what if I started dating one of my colleagues, and it led to sex? Then what am I supposed to do, suggest we engage in a little mutual masturbation or voyeurism? Come on, Michael, be realistic. My tastes sexually run to the, uh, unusual. I'm not a plain vanilla kind of woman."
"Thank God," he said, those intense blue eyes penetrating her defenses.
One of the things she loved most about him was his appreciation for her sexual appetite. He didn't find her desires bizarre at all. "There you have it. I couldn't enjoy a boring sexual routine with a man, and I certainly won't reveal my true nature to anyone where I live."
He graced her with a boyish grin. "So, you're kinda stuck between a rock and no hard place, then."
She giggled at his pun. "You could say that."
Michael put the laptop on the table and approached her, lifting the paperwork off her lap.
She pulled down the nightshirt where it had ridden up her thighs, her body heating when Michael yanked it back up her legs again. He settled in next to her and took her hands in his.
"Serena, how will you ever be happy?"
What kind of question was that? She didn't want to think about happiness. "I am happy."
"Are you?"
"Yes." She wasn't lying. Right now, with him, she was as happy as she'd ever been.
"What about when you go back to Kansas? What then?"
"Then my life resumes, same as it was before I came here."
"And that'll be enough for you?"
Did she have a choice? "It'll have to be."
"That doesn't make sense," he said, leaning back and running his fingers through his hair.
She sensed his frustration, but didn't understand it. Why would he even care how she lived her life, or what happened to her after she left the resort? They weren't involved and never would be.
"What doesn't make sense? That I choose to live my life a certain way, and that you might not agree with it?"
"I think you're hiding. I think you refuse to make the necessary changes in your life so you'll be happy."
She crossed her arms, not liking at all the way the conversation had turned. Why couldn't he just let things be? "Leave it alone, Michael. I've lived this way for years, and it works for me."
He stood and paced the room. "It works for you. No dating, no relationship, no romance. The only sex you get is what you do yourself. That is, until you save up enough money to come to a place like this and let a stranger fuck your brains out for a week. Is that really what you want? Is that the map for the rest of your life?"
Serena stood too, furious at Michael for putting in to words what she'd so expertly denied for so many years. She advanced on him, stopping when they were nose to nose.
"How dare you presume to know anything about my life, or what makes me happy? You don't know a damn thing about me, so just back off!"
"Coward. You just don't wanna face the fact that your life is miserable. And all this time I gave you credit for being smart."
"Are you insinuating otherwise?" she asked, lowering her voice so she wouldn't squeal like she really wanted to.
"You figure it out. For someone who seems to know exactly what she wants from sex, you sure suck at figuring out the rest of your life."
No more. She refused to listen to any more of his rantings. "I don't need to stand here and take this."
"No, I guess you don't."
The air was charged with the tension between them. It enveloped her, sucked her in and made her feel weak.
No. She wasn't weak. She'd never been weak. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her life was her choice. Screw Michael Donovan for making her feel as if she was going about it all wrong.
Without another word she stormed from the room and slammed the door to her bedroom. Mumbling under her breath the entire time she yanked on shorts and a tank top, grabbed her sandals and beach bag and threw open the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked, anger still evident in his tone.
She didn't even make eye contact with him as she walked past. "To the beach. For a walk. I don't know. Out."
She threw open the door to the suite, banging it against the wall in a loud crash. Despite feeling guilty at manhandling the door, she slammed it shut behind her.
If she was lucky, she'd be able to close the door on the doubts Michael had opened.
*
Michael cursed as he stepped outside on the balcony, the ever cooling breeze chilling him.
Fuck. The weather had changed. He could tell by the ominous dark clouds over the ocean that a storm was coming. And Serena was still out there, somewhere.
He'd already checked the beach, the cabanas and the restaurant. No sign of her, and no one recalled seeing her.
She'd left over three hours ago. Where could she be?
He'd even contacted Morgan to see if she'd signed in unscheduled on one of the adventures. She hadn't. He'd been relieved to know that she wasn't experiencing some erotic pleasures without him. And then had proceeded to cuss himself out for nearly fifteen minutes for even caring who she fucked.
But now that a storm loomed near the island, he wanted her back. In the room. Safe.
With him.
And if she wasn't coming back, then he'd damn well go out there to find her, then drag her back by the hair if he had to.
The light drizzle had already started, the wind picking up the droplets and hurtling them sideways onto the balcony.
Michael closed the sliding glass door, grabbed his tennis shoes and ran out the door.
Damn woman. Didn't know enough to come in out of the rain.
By the time he stepped outside the rain had increased. Fat globs of water pelted him as he ran through the garden path. No one was about.
Oh sure. All the sensible people had taken shelter inside.
Not him. He was out here looking for a lunatic. And God help her when he found her.
He slipped his jacket on, thankful he'd thought to grab it as he ran out the door. The temperature hadn't dropped that much, but after all the days of tropical warmth the breeze and rain seemed cold.
Plus, it was really fucking windy. Morgan had cautioned him against going outside, saying the weather report indicated severe weather for the next several hours.
Shit. Just great. He wasn't being insensible. Serena was. And now he had to be out in the pouring rain to search for her.
But where? The island wasn't huge, by any means, but it certainly wasn't tiny, either. Besides the resort area, there were roughly two hundred square miles of island to explore. Not that she'd have gotten that far, but if he had to search the entire island to find her they were both gonna be in deep shit.
By the time he'd checked in every building the resort had, he knew she wasn't anywhere close. Which meant he'd have to follow the walking trail past the resort and into the jungle-like rain forest.
In the rain.
The driving, windy rain.
Shit.
He should just turn around and head back to his room and let her fend for herself. She was the one who'd left in a huff. Let her figure out how to survive in the rain.
If he were as big a prick as he thought himself, he'd do that.
But he wasn't. So he trekked on, past the resort property and onto the walking trail.
At least he had some relief from the rain here. The tall, dense tropical trees and foliage protected him somewhat from the downpour. But the trail floor was quickly filling with water, evidenced by his squishing tennis shoes.
He'd walked for almost an hour, the steady downpour pummeling him. He shivered from the soaking he'd gotten and was determined to tur
n around and call out the experts for help.
Then he spotted it. A little palm frond covered building. Sort of like a beach shack, only a little bigger, with a thatched, sloping roof.
Sitting calmly on the front porch watching it rain, was Serena.
She spotted him, smiled and waved.
Just like that. As if being this far away from the resort was no big deal.
Could he kill her, he wondered? He knew all the ways to do it. He'd done it in his books hundreds of times. Quick, painless--no, he took that back. He'd like her to suffer.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly pulling a towel from the stack behind her and offering it to him.
He yanked the towel from her hands. "I was looking for you," he growled, his temper not getting any better just because he'd found her.
She frowned, seemingly confused as to why he would have been searching for her. "Why?"
"Because you've been gone four hours."
She shrugged. "I took a walk. The trail looked interesting so I thought I'd explore. Then it started to rain, so when I found this place I figured I'd better stop here and wait it out."
The more nonchalant she played this out, the more annoyed Michael became. "Do you know I looked everywhere for you? I checked every building and with every staff member at the resort. No one claimed to have seen you. I had no fucking idea where you were!" He threw the wet towels on the floor of the shack and fixed a vicious glare on her.
Her lips curved in a smile. A smile!
"You were worried about me?"
"No."
"Yes, you were. It's very sweet."
"It is not sweet. I am not sweet. Dammit, I'm pissed as hell. I'm half drowned here, there's a potential hurricane on the way, and you're sitting there smiling at me like it's no fucking big deal!"
She stepped toward him with another towel in hand, her green eyes glistening. Were those tears in her eyes?
"You're still dripping," she said, reaching around him to fluff his hair.
He grabbed her wrists. "I don't need you to coddle me. I'm fine."
"You came out in the rain to look for me," she whispered, eyes welling with more moisture.
Shit. No crying. Crying was a female ploy to make men forget they were madder than a bull in a coliseum filled with matadors. He grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides. "No big deal."
"It is to me."
The storm picked up again, lashing the palm fronds around the shack with wind and streams of rain.
Inside the shack a storm brewed of near equal intensity. Michael could feel it raging between them.
He had a tenuous hold on the remnants of his sanity. If she took one step towards him, he wouldn't be responsible for what happened.
She took one step towards him, and all was lost.
He swept her into his arms and took her saucy mouth in a ravaging kiss.
Chapter Nine
Serena gasped as Michael fit his mouth none too gently to hers, felt his raging need equaling her own.
The argument they'd just had was only a prelude, a dance of sorts, around a sensual fire that blazed hotter than anything she could comprehend. An incredible need for him began to build, a need she'd felt from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him.
A need which had grown in intensity over the past several days.
She was on fire for him, and wanted, needed him to burn deep inside her. She craved that joining with him, knew if she didn't have it she'd wither up and die.
His mouth brushed hot against her lips, coaxing her to open up for him. She did, and he swept his tongue inside, melting her. Moisture pooled between her legs, so familiar, so welcome.
He pushed her damp hair to the side and slid his tongue over her neck and throat, kissing and nibbling, finally sinking his teeth into that tender spot on her shoulder. She shivered and moaned, the pain and pleasure mingling until near unbearable.
Words weren't necessary and she couldn't have found any to say. She wanted only to feel right now--his hands and mouth on her skin quenching that fire he raised over her flesh. Words, she was afraid, would break the spell--bring about a reality that she simply could not, would not face right now.
Reality would come later. Now was for desire, for passion, for unbridled lust, for pure enjoyment of everything physical with a man she'd come to care deeply about.
If that little niggling truth hit her right smack in her heart, she pushed it away for now. She'd worry about her feelings for Michael later. Now she simply wanted him, had to have him. Inside her, part of her, like she'd been craving her whole life.
She'd waited forever for him, and she was going to have him.
"I want those clothes off now," he commanded, stepping back from her. His eyes blazed as dark as the storm clouds covering the blue sky, and she shivered.
"Now, Serena."
His words thrilled her, knowing what would follow. This was no scripted event, no scheduled adventure. It was simply the two of them, a couple about to make love, to share the most intense experience two people could have together.
She fumbled with the buttons on her shorts, undoing them with shaky fingers until she managed to slide them down and step out of them, kicking them to the side. She pulled the tank top over her head and discarded it on a nearby shelf.
She stood in front of him wearing only her white silk thong panties, nothing more than a scrap of thin material covering her damp pussy. She felt the quivering deep inside, aching to feel his cock there, knowing how good it would feel once he plunged his huge shaft as far in as it would go.
His gaze flamed her senses as he assessed her from head to toe. She felt a blush heating her, surprised that she would feel even remotely shy when Michael looked at her. But then again, they'd never been as intimate as they were about to get. Yes, they'd shared sexual games. But that had been play. This was real.
At least for her.
He tore off his jacket and shirt, revealing the well-toned chest she loved to touch. He yanked his shorts down and kicked them away, then slipped out of his soaked tennis shoes.
His cock sprung from the thatch of dark hair between his legs, hard and pulsating with a life all its own. She longed to drop and take his shaft into her mouth and suck him hard until he came gallons all over her, but she forced herself to be patient.
There was a tiny room off the main shack. Michael pulled her in there and grabbed a sheet and some blankets to spread over the small bed.
This shack must have been used for sexual getaways. Completely isolated, it contained nothing but towels, blankets and the little bed. Maybe a place for staff members to steal away for a quickie? She didn't know, and frankly couldn't care less.
All she knew was the place had a bed, and she and Michael were going to use it. For that matter they could do it standing up or on the damp, wood-planked floor. She wanted his cock inside her and it was going to happen no matter the location.
Once again he pulled her towards him, this time laying her down on the mattress and sliding in next to her. The room was warm and dry, away from the pounding rain and wind outside.
His skin, though damp, burned as if he had a fever. She felt the fire singe her skin as he pulled her close, his hands closing over one aching breast.
She hissed out a breath when his thumb found her nipple, and moaned out loud when he lightly grazed it.
"You have very sensitive nipples," he murmured, leaning in to capture the tip in his mouth.
With a gasp she tilted her head back. Michael tugged her nipple between his teeth, the pleasure and pain excruciatingly erotic.
Her hands wound into his wet hair and she pulled his head to her breast, wanting him to take all of it into his hot, wet mouth. His other hand busily worked the other nipple, his rough hand sending sparks of pleasure to her pussy.
Juices dampened her panties further and she instinctively spread her legs, signaling her need to be fucked.
"You know I'm going to fuck you 'til you scream," he wa
rned, taking her mouth again in fierce kisses that left her breathless.
"Yes," she managed between gasps. His hand trailed over her belly and lower.
"Tell me you want it, Serena."
Tell him? Tell him what? How could she tell him what she wanted when she couldn't form a coherent sentence to save her life? Desire and expectation fogged her thinking process. Couldn't he just touch her, kiss her, make love to her?
Why doesn't he know what I need? Because even she didn't know, that's why. She fought for the words that would convey the physical. He didn't want to know about the emotional. What she really wanted, what she craved desperately, he'd never be able to give her.
"I want you to fuck me. Hard, deep, ram that huge cock so far inside me your balls slap my ass."
He emitted a fierce growl and slipped his fingers inside her panties, finding and teasing her clit until she cried out.
"You're so hot. You make me want to fuck you hard and deep."
"Yes, Michael, hard. I need it hard and fast."
He bit lightly on her neck followed by a long lick of his tongue. "Yeah, baby. I'm going to give you one hard cock. Over and over and over again until you beg me to stop."
"Never," she said. "I'll never beg you to stop. I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts."
She'd never felt this way before. Never knew she could feel this way. It was almost like an out of body experience. Someone else was feeling these sensations, uttering these words. Not her.
Michael threw one leg over hers and pulled her closer, his stiff cock riding against her hip. She reached for it, encircled it with her palm, and stroked the length of his shaft, rewarded with his groan of pleasure.
"Suck me," he demanded, rolling over onto his back and pulling her upright.
She straddled him, achingly aware of his cock jutting up against her pussy. He lifted his hips once, then twice, the head of his shaft sliding over her sensitive clit. She moaned, delighting in the sensation.
She bent down and grabbed his face between her hands. With all the passion she felt she kissed him, roughly as he'd done to her. His arms wound around her back, exploring her skin, his fingers sliding down the crevice of her backside, lightly touching her ass.
She ground her pussy against him and he groaned, "Fuck!" His passion thrilled her, spurred her on to new heights, made her want to please him like he'd never been pleased before.
Her movements slow and measured she moved down his body, stopping at his nipples to kiss and lick and stroke them until they'd hardened like hers. His belly quivered when she licked a trail from there to where the hair softened above his pubic bone.