No Strings Attached

  "How old was he when he died?"

  "Fifty-four."

  "That's really young. What about your mom?"

  "She died when I was sixteen. Cancer."

  How had she not known these things? Because she'd been so wrapped up in her own life, and then her own grief, that she'd never bothered to find out--that was why. What kind of friend was she? "I'm sorry again."

  He smiled at her. "It was a long time ago, Ella. I'm okay with it."

  "You don't have any brothers or sisters?"

  "No. Just me."

  "So there you were at twenty-one with no family. That must have been hard."

  His gaze drifted out to sea. "I managed. I had my job, my friends. I focused on those. Took college courses at night because the foreman told me I had a head for numbers and I should do something besides work my body to death like my dad had done. So I listened to him, and instead of partying my paychecks away, I went to school and got my degree. Eventually I moved up the ranks and ended up starting my own business."

  "A self-made man."

  He shifted his gaze back to her. "Something like that."

  "I admire your drive and ambition. A lot of guys that age would have pissed away their future. You didn't."

  "I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to end up like my dad."

  Ella could only imagine how difficult it had been for him to lose so much at such a young age. Maybe that explained his inability to commit to any woman. Maybe he was afraid of losing someone he loved again.

  She understood that way of thinking. The thought of loving someone that deeply again--and then losing them--was unfathomable.

  The line tugged and she focused her attention back to the fish. So did Clay, who moved behind her.

  "Give it a little line," he said, noticing she'd tensed up and was pulling against the straining fish. "You don't want it so tight that it breaks."

  She unwound the reel to relax the line.

  "Okay, now start reeling him in again, nice and easy this time. Bring him in closer. This is your game now."

  Clay stepped back and let Ella and the crew do the rest. By the time they hauled the squirming fish on board, Ella's face was red, and she was dripping with sweat and utterly exhausted. But she grinned in triumph. She'd done it. The crew held it up and took her picture next to it. Not even half the size of Clay's marlin, but to Ella it was magnificent.

  "She's a beauty," Clay said as Ella left the stern, wiping her hands and face with a towel.

  "That was so much fun. And grueling. I can see why you love it."

  He patted her shoulder. "You put some energy into it."

  She laughed. "Yeah, my arms feel like limp noodles right now." She shook them out, needlelike tingles shooting down to her fingers.

  "You're tough. You can handle it. I'll give you a massage later."

  She tilted her head back to accept the kiss he offered. "I look forward to that."

  After their first night together, they'd been inseparable. They'd gone snorkeling, sightseeing, bodysurfing and fishing over the past few days. And whenever they weren't doing something outside, they were inside making love with a furious intensity that left Ella exhausted and more than satisfied.

  Being with Clay had been more than she'd expected out of this trip. Being with someone she knew, someone who knew her, who understood her and had no expectations about who she was--now, that was a bonus. On the work site, Clay laughed and joked with her, treated her just like another guy, which was what she expected. He treated her like a colleague, and she respected him because of that.

  But this past week he'd treated her like a woman. There was a comfort level with Clay that she could never have experienced with a stranger. How foolish of her to expect that she could have come out here and chosen some random guy and had the same kind of experience she'd had this week with Clay.

  It had been like a honeymoon--without the love and marriage. They'd laughed, talked, held hands, kissed, made love and talked some more. They knew each other better than any two people could. And what they didn't know they'd started to learn about each other in the past week.

  It had been perfect.

  Almost too perfect. Because she'd discovered she could care about a man again. That maybe love wasn't a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

  Every moment she spent with Clay made her realize that the time with him had become about more than just sex.

  Her no-strings week had become something more binding--at least to her. She didn't know what it had meant to Clay. Probably nothing at all. Just fun, no strings, exactly what he had promised her. Exactly what she had wanted.

  At first.

  After the boat docked they spent the rest of the late afternoon at the beach and the pool, just swimming and lying in the sun sipping drinks. It was relaxing and fun and, after her hard workout of marlin fishing, just what Ella needed. She even fell asleep under a shaded cabana with Clay massaging her aching shoulders. It wasn't until he pressed his lips against her neck that she woke.

  "Sun's going down and you have goose bumps."

  She'd been sleeping hard, hadn't even realized how tired she was.

  They went upstairs--she had ended up staying the entire week in his suite--and Ella showered. She came out wrapped in a towel. Clay was on the balcony.

  "What are we doing tonight?" she asked.

  He turned to her, his gaze raking her body. God, she loved when he so unabashedly appreciated her like that and made no excuses for doing so. "What haven't we done already?"

  She laughed. "I don't know. We've seen every inch of this island, been in the water and on top of it. We've fished, done a luau, gone to shows.... So, I guess we've done it all--except one thing."

  "Yeah? What's that?"

  "We haven't gone dancing."

  He laughed. "I told you. I don't dance. I want you to leave this island with good memories of me."

  Now it was her turn to laugh. "You can't be that bad."

  "Really. I can."

  "Okay. What would you like to do tonight?"

  He stood and walked over to her, slid two fingers inside her towel between her breasts. "Maybe stay in. Order room service."

  Her breasts swelled, her entire body flushed at his words and the images they conjured. Just the brush of his knuckles against the swell of her breasts was enough to fire up her arousal, make her want him. The thought of never touching him after tonight, never feeling his mouth on her again, made her fight tears.

  Instead, she swallowed past the ache in her throat and managed a smile. "Staying in sounds like a really great idea."

  He removed his fingers. "Let me go shower. Why don't you order us something to eat and drink?"

  While he was in the shower, Ella slipped on a soft sundress. She pulled the room service menu out, scanning the dinner items, her stomach rumbling as she did. It had been a while since they'd had lunch. She hadn't realized how long they'd spent on the boat and then at the beach and pool today. The sun had already set and she was starving.

  By the time Clay came out from the bathroom, she was ready to eat the sheets.

  "I hope room service doesn't take long," she said, pacing the length of the room. "I'm already past hungry."

  He pulled on a pair of shorts and dragged her onto the balcony. "You sure get cranky when you aren't fed regularly."

  "We should have crackers in the room or something."

  "There's food in the mini bar."

  She cast a disgusted gaze into the room. "Please. Five bucks for a candy bar? I'll wait."

  He dragged her onto his lap. "Quit bitching. Am I going to have to spank you?"

  She laughed, then heated at the thought. "You wouldn't dare."

  He cocked a brow. "There isn't a lot I wouldn't dare to do, Ella." He pulled her against him and rubbed her back, his fingers making a slow trek down to her rear end. "Besides, you have a great ass."

  Her dress bunched up in the back and his fingers teased the globes of her buttocks. She shuddered ag
ainst him. "If I wasn't starving..."

  "Food can wait."

  He bent to kiss her, her hunger taking a completely different turn.

  But a knock came at the door.

  "Shit," Clay said, smoothing her dress over her butt.

  She giggled, her gaze traveling down over the obvious tent in his shorts. "Maybe I should get the door."

  "Yeah." He went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Ella felt tons better after she'd eaten. They ate out on the balcony, because Ella couldn't seem to get enough of watching the ocean, listening to the sound of it and smelling the fresh, salty air. She was going to miss all this when she got back home to landlocked Oklahoma tomorrow, back to dirt and her crew and steel, where the only things she'd be inhaling were construction dust and the smell of the guys she worked with.

  She inhaled and let out a sigh.

  "What's wrong?"

  She grabbed her glass of wine and leaned back in the chair. "I was just thinking how different this is from our world. Such a fantasy being here this past week."

  Clay smiled, laid his napkin on the table and took a drink of wine. "So you had fun here."

  "Definitely. I'm going to miss this. The blue of the ocean, the utter--forever of it. The smell of the flowers that seem to permeate the air wherever I go. The total relaxation. Yeah, I'm going to miss all of this."

  And Clay. She was going to miss making love to him, feeling his body move against hers, inside her. She was going to miss the way he touched her, the way his lips slid over hers, the way her stomach tumbled whenever he looked at her.

  "You can always come back. You're welcome to use my condo anytime you'd like."

  But he wouldn't be in it. There was a difference. It wouldn't be the same. "Thanks. I really appreciate that."

  "But you can't bring a guy."

  She arched a brow. "I can't?"

  "No. The thought of you fucking some random guy in my bed here just doesn't sit well with me."

  She tried not to grin. "So there are conditions to me using your condo."

  "Sorry. Yeah."

  "I could lie."

  "You could. But you won't. You don't know how to lie."

  She finished her glass of wine and set it on the table. "Damn. I'm going to have to learn to be unscrupulous. Then I can have hot monkey sex in this fabulous condo anytime I can get away."

  He stood and came over to her, pulled her out of the chair and dragged her against him. "Anytime you want hot monkey sex in this condo, just give me a call. I'll meet you."

  Her skin prickled with chills at the same time her insides melted with heat. "Is that a firm offer? Can I get it in writing?"

  "Firm offer, yes. In writing, no. But my word's good."

  Okay, so he hadn't actually offered his undying love, but what had she expected? They were friends. They worked together. Not even together, really. They were competitors in business. And they'd just spent a week fucking each other like crazy. That he might want to do it again sometime was...nice.

  Nice? Hell, it was more than nice. It was more than she expected. She knew Clay's lifestyle. He was a compulsive serial dater, and he never did repeats.

  She laid her palm against his chest, somehow comforted by the steady beat of his heart. "Wow. You want to see me again. This is...unexpected. So rare for you."

  He narrowed his gaze at her. "Are you insulting me?"

  "Not intentionally. You just never see women...repeatedly."

  "True enough. You aren't most women I know. We see each other a lot. You're an exception."

  He revealed nothing in that statement. How typical for Clay. She patted his chest, trying to keep things light. "I'll keep you in mind whenever I need to scratch the itch again."

  His hands slid down her back, his fingertips tantalizing her but rubbing ever so seductively above her butt. "We don't have to come back to Hawaii to have sex with each other, Ella."

  She stilled. "You mean...back in Tulsa? You and me...together?"

  He laughed. "You should see the look of horror on your face. It's like I just suggested we go on a murder rampage together."

  She pushed away from him. "That's not what I meant." She moved to the railing, looked to the sea for its calming influence. She wished she could tell him how she felt. The problem was, she didn't know how she felt. Her feelings were mixed up inside. She needed time to sort them through before she blurted out something she might regret later.

  He joined her. "I know what you meant. Sorry. I know you wanted this week to have no strings, and here I am trying to tie you up by suggesting we continue to meet once we get home. When we get back we'll pretend nothing happened between us. It'll be business as usual, just the way you wanted it."

  Right. Just the way she wanted it.

  Only now she wasn't sure it was what she really wanted. And the last person she could say that to was Clay.

  She turned to him. "Yes, that's what I wanted."

  His lips lifted and he smoothed his hand over her cheek. "So let's make tonight good."

  He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers with a kiss so achingly tender she had to squeeze her eyes tight to push back the sting of tears. She shuddered as he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

  She would miss him. There was more to what she felt than just sex. She was afraid she was falling in love with Clay.

  And she couldn't...wouldn't tell him that.

  He'd trusted her to keep things physical between them. She wouldn't ruin this last night together by spilling out emotions when she knew damn well he wasn't interested in any of that. He was a man who enjoyed women, but didn't want any strings tying them together.

  She let it all go, losing herself in his kiss, in the way he moved his hands over her body. He'd learned her body so well in the past week--where to touch her to elicit the moans she couldn't contain. He knew exactly what buttons to push and he was a damn expert at making her weak-kneed in mere minutes. The slow torture of his mouth doing sinful things to hers, his tongue sliding its velvety softness across hers, made her whimper. He moved his hands along her back, down and then up, until he tangled one hand in her hair and held on, the other continuing its slow exploration along the fabric of her dress. Her nipples tightened and pressed against his bare chest.

  He pulled away, long enough for her to catch her breath and tilt her head back to gaze into his eyes--eyes that mirrored the mystery of the ocean.

  He was panting, too, his full lips parted as he looked down at her, his expression so intense he almost looked as if he were angry.

  But she knew those expressions now. It wasn't anger. It was pure desire.

  He walked her backward several steps until her back hit the wall of the balcony.

  "Raise your arms over your head."

  She did, and he smoothed his hands down her arms, so damn slowly she thought she'd die in agony. The silk abraded her nipples. Her pussy was wet, her clit tingling with need. She'd worn nothing under her dress, her intent to seduce, to tease.

  But now who was the one teasing? It wasn't her.

  Clay used his palms to trace her body, continuing his slow assault with his hands over her shoulders, across her collarbone, then down her side, lingering when he reached her breasts. He took a few seconds to trace his thumbs over her nipples. Her breath caught and she watched, waited for him to tweak them, pull them, but he didn't, instead caressing her waist and hips, before his gaze snapped back to her face.

  She swallowed, the action fruitless. Her throat had gone dry.

  He grasped the material of her dress at her hips, then began to lift.

  They were outside on the balcony, but it was dark. No one could see them. But the fact that Clay was baring her lower body wasn't lost on her. It was scandalous. Thrilling.

  "Part your legs for me, Ella."

  Her legs shook as she widened them. She braced her hands on the wall for support, found she needed it when Clay slid his hand between he
r thighs and cupped her sex. He palmed the wall with his other hand and kept his gaze trained on her face.

  "You're wet. You want me?"

  She found it hard to breathe, but managed to form words. "I think you know I do."

  "I don't know," he said, sliding his hand across her sensitive flesh. "You're a mystery to me. You have to tell me what you want."

  She gasped as his touch liquefied her. He slid two fingers inside her and continued his assault on her senses. "Yes. That's what I want."

  He stilled. "What? Tell me."

  She wanted to slide down on his fingers, to grasp more of that sweet pleasure. "Your fingers. Inside me."

  The teasing smile he gave her wrecked her. "My fingers are already inside you, Ella. What do you want me to do with them?"

  "Fuck me. Fuck me with them."

  He did, sliding them out, then back in again. And when he swirled his thumb over her clit, she banged her head against the stone wall behind her, oblivious to anything but the sweet pleasure he gave her. And through it all, Clay watched her, kept his gaze trained on her face, while his hands performed magic.

  She felt her walls tightening around his fingers as with every thrust she grew closer to orgasm. He swiveled his thumb back and forth in a steady rhythm over the tight nub of her clit, and she cried out, not caring who heard her. Her climax was swift, thunderous, and Clay covered her mouth with a deep, amazing kiss as he took her from the throes of a mighty orgasm to a languorous place where her bones felt soft and pliant, just like the way his mouth moved over her.

  She was shaking, from her legs to her torso and arms. Clay continued to kiss her as he stepped in front of her, pushed down his shorts, and suddenly she heard the tearing of a condom wrapper and felt herself being lifted.

  Her back scraped the wall as he thrust inside her. She didn't care, because all she knew was the feeling of being filled by his cock. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks as he held her while he rammed into her, hard. She held on to his shoulders and rocked against him, wanting to give him exactly what he gave her.

  "Yes," she said, twining her fingers up into the soft darkness of his hair. "Again."

  He thrust again, and she knew she'd be bruised from this. She didn't care. She wanted marks on her, wanted to remember everything from tonight, from this last time with the man she...

  With Clay.

  And as he pumped inside her, she used her fingertips to trace the lines on his face, the fullness of his lips, to memorize everything about him, because this would be the last time she'd be this close to him.