He could already tell she was not easy. Hell, he could tell she was the closest thing to a virgin he’d ever have, a little shy even when she was all-out brazen. She went a little skittish when he smiled his sex-god smile at her, and it made his balls constrict, he liked it so much. Now all he wanted was to slowly crack this lady’s hard-shell exterior and let the sultry goddess come out to play.
Lord knows he wanted to play with her.
Up until now, he had refrained with a ruthless self-discipline that even amazed him, all night trying to pretend he hadn’t been stiff as a flagpole under the table while they’d bantered back and forth. Holy God, she’d made him want to fuck her so bad.
It had been a while since Luke had let himself enjoy the company of a woman—without having sex with her. And when he said a while, it had been decades. So yeah, a long while, for sure. But now he realized he’d been missing out on good stuff, too.
Peyton was fun and funny, and sexy, and as the drinks had progressed she’d gotten even more uninhibited and relaxed in his company.
She wasn’t fawning over him, because to her, he was a nobody, and she wasn’t kissing his feet hoping he’d give her a check either.
She made him feel like Luke Preston before he became the Luke Preston, and way, way before the Walking Miracle issue.
As they walked in silence now, he felt young, relaxed, and alive.
But then, he wished he could enjoy the sensation without his cock getting in the way. It kept jumping to full attention at the merest things. Whenever she laughed Luke felt dumbstruck, helplessly drawn to the sound. When she smiled, God, he throbbed down to his balls.
She was incredibly lovely in an old movie star fashion; Audrey Hepburnish, but with a Marilyn Monroe sex-appeal Luke Preston had never dug so fucking bad.
He could only imagine what she must feel like, slowly writhing and moaning beneath him. Shit, he ached to slide inside her.
He’d bet she’d be tight. Slick. Wet.
Damn it, how on earth was he supposed to have some one-on-one time with Luke with Peyton sharing the beach with him?
Relax? His shot-at ass!
He had never been so tortured before.
This woman was not only a walking wet dream, but she smelled incredibly good, and Luke was trying very hard not to think of how damned amazing it was going to feel when he pushed his tortured cock inside of her wet heat.
He hadn’t had a woman in six weeks, since the murder attempt. For several days now, he’d been goofing off with Pepe, his “Toad” and new sidekick; the little guy he’d met at the pool who’d quickly interested Luke in a game of football. But then he’d met this woman and now he could think of nothing other than taking her to Luke Preston’s legendary fucking bed, which was screaming in emptiness.
Stealing a sideways look at her, he noticed she was deep in thought, utterly quiet, too. She had such delicate features, was so sweet and stunning, his wound ached in his chest.
Sighing, he sunk his empty beer bottle into the sand and dropped down beside it, not ready to call it quits tonight. Peyton was too fun, too beautiful, too sexy. And despite the mixed signals…he suspected that she wanted him, and badly.
Luke’s hands were itching to get up and all over her.
But Peyton remained standing, her skirt fluttering in the wind like that sexy black hair he wanted to wrap within his fists and use to hold her head down as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Her cheeks looked flushed, and she kept biting her lower lip in a way that Luke wanted to.
He cocked his head back. “What are you thinking that makes you blush?” he asked, his voice husky even to his ears, already thickened with desire.
She bit her lip and made circles in the sand with the tip of one toe. “Luke. I was thinking…wondering…whether I might have an affair with you.”
Chapter Two
Peyton couldn’t believe she’d just said that.
She held her breath and raised her head in dread to discover that Luke appeared expectant, as if he was waiting for her to elaborate. So she went on. “No strings…just a little fling.”
Deep in thought, he turned his head to the moon, and after a long moment, he spoke, his voice husky as he patted the sand beside him. “Come sit with me.”
The unmistakable sensuality in his voice made goose bumps rise along her flesh and her pussy grip with longing. “I’m not sure…I should probably be going. Maybe this isn’t the best time to decide when I’ve had so many beers.”
“Come on, Peyton. It’s a beautiful night. The moon is up. Sit with me while you keep wondering whether or not you might have an affair with me.”
How to deny him?
He was too sexy. Everything about him was sexy sexy sexy. The way he looked in those linen pants and the linen button-down shirt, the way his hair blew in the wind, the way he smelled…of soap, ocean, and something manly and unique. How could she deny him when she was helplessly drawn to his incredible magnetic force?
Her legs wobbled as she went to sit next to him, throbbing painfully between her legs.
When she settled down, he lifted one arm behind her, and the evening felt surreal. Like she was dreaming. His fingers languorously stroked her bare back and her breasts felt heavy at the tender caress. Her sex wept as he delineated her spine with sinuous strokes of his fingertips.
“You’re not married, right…?” she whispered into the night, her throat tight with desire as she sat tense and motionless at his side, afraid that if she moved, he would vanish into the air. Not touch her, never touch her.
His hands stroked the halter knot at the nape of her neck, but he didn’t undo it, merely caressed around it, then he spoke in a rough but tender voice. “Sit on my lap and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
His voice was so compelling she slid over and onto his lap with her back to him, her legs draped to one side. His erection nestled against her buttocks, and the instant she realized how incredibly firm and enormous he was, her insides boiled mushy and hot.
In a slow, seductive move, his hand eased around her rib cage and slipped under the fabric of her halter top. Then he palmed one aching breast, and he whispered in her ear, “No, I’m not married. What else?” His thumb circled her puckered nipple, and the pleasure at that gentle swipe was so great she almost moaned. “What else do you want to know about me, Peyton?”
His free hand caressed up the bare thighs of the legs she’d draped to that side, and her heart pounded faster as he slipped his fingers under her skirt. And then he was teasing her crotch with his fingertips, his voice a breath in her ear. “You’re hot here…”
She shuddered as an arrow of pleasure sliced straight to her warmed-up cunt. He eased one finger under her panty and touched her—flesh to flesh. She could feel her slickness as he stroked up her labia, feared that he would be able to smell her scent. “Hot…and damp. If you get this wet thinking of me, Peyton, then you’re going to have to let me give you what you need.”
Her head turned helplessly toward his hypnotic voice and he was there, ready, as though he knew she would be helpless not to turn to him, and he captured her mouth with lips that were dry and strong and hungry. She became frenzied when he stroked his tongue across hers.
“Mmm, that’s what I’m talking about, baby.” He tweaked her nipple and gave it a little pinch, and Peyton moaned deep in her throat and squirmed restlessly over his lap, sliding her tongue into his mouth, intoxicated by his forbidden taste. “Tell me how I’m doing, Peyton. Am I doing the job of a man you’d like to have an affair with?”
“Y-yes. God, so good.”
He nuzzled her face with his and licked his tongue into her mouth again, the wet, damp, hot flick shooting bullets of pleasure to her toes. His voice was a terse rasp that she could feel caressing her insides like a feather. “That’s what I like to hear, Peyton. Now give me all of your mouth again and let me taste you.”
She shifted more fully toward him and he tongued her mouth as he inserted one fing
er into her. When he stroked deep inside her tight sheath at the same time he plowed wetly into her mouth, Peyton was ready to come apart in his arms.
She moaned feebly. Her insides coiled with tension as an orgasm built inside her, and then Luke dragged his mouth to her earlobe and murmured, “Take your top off, Peyton, and let me see those pretty breasts I’ve been holding in my hands.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached to undo the knot at her nape until her top fell around her waist. Her breasts spilled free, caressed by the air and the moonlight. She shuddered from the force of her need.
“Now turn facing me on my lap so I can kiss those pink tips,” he said quietly.
Shaking, she turned around to straddle him. The lustful sparkle in his eyes made her heart pound a thousand beats a minute.
He ducked his blond head, and she moaned at the sinuous scrape of his jaw stubble across one nipple, and then the other. He suctioned one as he thumbed the other puckered bead, drawing her so deep into his mouth she felt the pull within her womb.
She ground down against him. His hardness was perfectly nestled against the apex of her thighs, and when Peyton felt his cock pulse against her heat through the fabric of his pants, her blood reached a boiling point. She quaked with such total, nerve-racking lust, she was certain that any second now, her bones would disintegrate.
His mouth covered the other nipple, hot and thirsty as he suckled. Her head fell back on a moan and she rocked her hips wantonly against his bulging arousal.
A hard, twisting orgasm galloped toward her, almost within reach, until she heard voices from afar…
Her breath caught, and Luke turned his head toward the alien sounds.
“Shh, it’s all right, they can’t see us, Peyton,” he tenderly urged as he swiftly ducked to suckle her other breast. Her answering moan turned into a helpless plea.
“Oh, God, they’re coming this way,” she gasped, watching the two little dots in the distance as she attempted to scramble off of him.
But Luke prevented it, his hands like vises around her. “Relax. They’ll turn around in a minute. There are only two casitas farther on. One of them is yours—and the other is too big for them.”
But she couldn’t relax now. Now her mind was starting to work through all the beers and warn her that this could be more complicated than she had anticipated. What if she liked the man too much? Then what?
Peyton shivered hot and cold, panting for her breath as her trembling hands futilely attempted to lift her top back up. “I’m sorry, Luke. I…I don’t know if I can do this. I’m…. so sorry. I’m just not this type of girl. Good night.”
She stood on trembling feet and tried to do her top with cramped fingers. He easily stood with her and steadied her with one arm.
“Shh. I wasn’t looking for this either. Let me walk you to your room. You all right?”
“No…yes. I just never drink.” She didn’t know if she was drunk, or if she was just too intoxicated by his touch, so she swallowed and shut up.
She could feel his concerned stare as he tied up her top, and then they headed in silence toward her casita. Her head spun with the effects of the beers, the effects of Luke Alexander. He was no longer touching her, and yet she continued to feel seduced by him in every way. In every way. He was an assault to all of her senses. A tease to her eyes, her nose, her skin, her ears.
He was perfect, too perfect, frighteningly perfect.
She shivered in the wind and rubbed her arms back and forth to warm the chill that had settled in her bones. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t looking for this either? You should’ve said you weren’t interested,” she softly accused, her throat tight. What had it been for him, back there? A pity fondling?
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Do you honestly think I would pass on a chance to get my hands all over you? I’ve been doing things to you in my head all night.”
His husky admission made her want to feel his hands all over her, just like he’d said. It made her want to find out, in the flesh, exactly what he wanted to do to her, without being afraid whether or not she was emotionally equipped to handle this.
Head downcast while her traitorous nipples puckered to his words, she headed past her private hammock, now dangling lonely between two palm trees. Then she wound her way around her private pool and up two stairs to reach the terrace outside her suite.
Chest heavy, she turned and contemplated this sexy beach god of her dreams for what seemed like an eternity. Her sensitized body screamed for her to shut off her brain functions and just jump him. The night made his eyes look darker as he looked at her, and there was a shimmer in those eyes, a hunger.
His gaze roamed slowly over her face in a silent caress, until it settled on her lips. She could swear he was going to kiss her again. But when he didn’t after a long, breathless moment, the only thing she could do now was say, “Good night, Luke. I had a wonderful time. I’m sorry about…”
“Invite me in, Peyton. We’ll take it slower.”
She flushed at his words, the unmistakable intent in his eyes. Then she couldn’t take it and said, “I can’t. I’m sorry. Thank you. Good night.”
And then she disappeared into her luxurious, yet lonely suite, not even waiting for his answer.
She bit her trembling lip while she closed the glass door behind her, then she stared into the silent room. For almost a minute she stood there, shaking with uncontrollable lust and regret. God, she was so stupid.
She should have just told him that it had been years since she’d had sex with a man. Years. She could have invited him in. He’d stood there, wanting her. Ready to. So impossibly handsome and so…possible.
Damn, why couldn’t she just let go and let loose for once in her life? When, in her entire life, would she meet a man like him again?
She wanted him so much she couldn’t remember wanting anything this badly. What was she afraid of? That she would get attached? She was a practical woman and not a romantic. This was nothing to her. Just a much-needed fling. And with the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life. She should be shouting with joy at the opportunity, kissing him, pulling him closer, running her hands through his beautiful windblown hair…
Oh, God, I really want him.
With new resolve, she whirled around, pulled the glass door open, and ran after him. She could see his lone, gorgeous male figure slowly making its way down the beach, and she urged her legs to run faster as she called, “Luke!”
He didn’t seem to hear, so she repeated his name. “Luke Alexander!”
He swung around at her voice, motionless as he saw her running toward him. She paused a few inches away, fighting for her breath.
“Luke, I…I thought…” Her eyes searched his face in the moonlight. “Look, I don’t usually do this…but…I leave Sunday…. We don’t have to exchange numbers, I can’t deal with a relationship. I just want something fun and meaningless…”
She couldn’t finish, she could barely fill her lungs with air. Standing there, longing and desire shimmering through her, it suddenly struck her how vulnerable she felt, how utterly devastating it would be if he were to reject her tonight.
But he had a beautiful smile on his face, and his gaze swirled with male knowledge. “This is the part where I tell you that ‘meaningless’ happens to be my middle name, and ‘fling’ my last,” he said, teasing her.
The instant his gaze dropped to her mouth, his smile vanished.
“But the truth is…” Heart-poundingly serious, he closed the distance between them and raised her chin as he lowered his face to hers. “I want this like I’ve never wanted anything.”
He brushed his lips across hers, igniting a teasing little spark that fluttered across her skin and curled around her toes. He followed with a second brush, in the opposite direction, a little firmer, leaving her a little more breathless.
Shivers of pleasure danced along her nerve endings as his mouth finally closed around hers. His lips moved sinuously aga
inst hers, and then his tongue dipped inside to taste her. A frantic moan tore from Peyton’s chest, and a deeper sound tore from his, and the kiss morphed.
It became a hostile takeover, the way his tongue pillaged her mouth, the way he pulled her up hard and hungry against him.
“Get rid of that top again and let me suck your breasts.”
Frantic, she yanked it over her head without even undoing the tie while at the same time Luke unbuttoned his shirt.
Anxious to remove her skirt as well, Peyton fumbled with the side zipper, her fingers stiff and clumsy in her hurry to get naked.
Once she stood in her panties, she noticed that Luke had already tossed his shirt aside and now stood bare-chested. Her windpipe clamped shut at the sight he made. Godlike. All man and sex and beach god. All hers.
He stared at her body, too, like he also thought she was some sort of beach goddess, his smoldering gaze warming her every pore.
“Luke.” The word tore out of her lips when he came to envelop her in his arms, and a hot shudder racked through her when he pushed his damp, delicious tongue into her mouth again.
“You taste so good, baby…” His mouth continued plundering her as he lowered her to the ground, easing easily out of his drawstring pants. “I’m so hard for you I could go through a wall. But you’ll feel so much better, Peyton. God, I can’t wait to feel you, wet and hot, around my dick.”
She regarded him in a daze, feeling faint with need and desire as she stroked her fingers along the bulging muscles of his back. “Don’t let me change my mind,” she pleaded.
His welcome weight pinned her down, and as she sank into the sand, the pebbles grazed the soft skin of her buttocks and back.
“I won’t let you. You’re mine tonight.”
He edged back to survey her, and Peyton lay there, motionless under his appraisal, awed by the open reverence with which he surveyed her. She felt beautiful. Utterly female. Desired.