ASingleKnightNook (7 page)

“Casey.”

He dragged his hand down her chest, over her breast, her ribcage. He smoothed it over her hip, her butt to the back of her thigh, moving inside her the whole time. She arched, lips parted and raised her knee to his side. He followed her wonderful lead, driving deeper into her with quickening strokes as he hooked his fingers into the back of her knee, pulling her into his thrusts.

She whimpered, the soft sound fraying his control. He wouldn’t last much longer. How he’d lasted this long, when she was so amazing, so incredible, so…so right was beyond him.

He withdrew the tip of his cock, her pussy lips sliding over his flesh to his very rim.

“Oh God, Addison,” she panted. “That’s…so…so good. So good.”

He plunged back inside her, deeper, faster.

She cried out, scoring her nails across his flesh. Pain laced the intense pleasure ruling him and he groaned, nipping at her bottom lip. She tangled her fingers in his hair and demanded his tongue. He gave it, swiping it into her mouth, hungry for her taste and frenzied passion. He was going to come soon. Nothing could stop that. The base of his spine tingled with searing tension. The soles of his feet did the same. His balls were growing heavier, closer to his body with every second Casey’s heat and scent and softness consumed him. He was going to erupt like a fucking geyser any moment now. Nothing was going to stop him coming. Being inside Casey, being with Casey was too good, too good. Lord love a sodding duck, it was too, too good. He could think of the Queen, Prince Charles, Camilla, hell, he could picture the entire royal family starkers in an attempt to stay off the inevitable, but it would be all for naught.

“Oh yeah…” She gasped, her feminine walls squeezing his cock in increasing pressure. “So…so…close…so…close…”

She writhed beneath him, her eyes ablaze with raw desire, her breath shallow, rapid. “Oh…oh, Addison…there…I’m almost…almost there.”

His hips bucked of their own accord, faster, faster. Liquid fire shot through his core. Sheared through his groin. He held her, the fingers of one hand digging into the back of her thigh, his other hand curled around her shoulder, his stare locked on hers as he filled her, pumped into her.

Possessed her. And surrendered to her.

Wholly and completely.

“Oh God, Addison,” she cried, eyes shutting, body tensing. “I’m…I’m…oh God…I’m…”

“Casey,” he rasped, fresh fire licking through his lower body. “Casey, I’m going to come. I’m going to…”

“Yes!” she cried, slamming her hips up to his. Her pussy contracted around his shaft just as his seed surged from his body in a molten eruption.

She moaned his name, clawed at his shoulders, tossed her head from side-to-side and milked his cock of his release.

A release that never seemed to end. A climax that ended all too quickly.

A lifetime later, with her moaning his name, her cheeks flushed, her sex pulsing around his erection, he slumped onto her body, strength deserting him. He covered her, nuzzling the curve of her neck, his breath ragged.

Another lifetime later, with the constricting pulses of her pussy on his spent cock fading, she trailed her fingers up his back. “Can I just say,” she murmured. “You really are Sir Oh My God You’re Incredible.”

He lifted his head and studied her, the sated joy in his body and soul growing warm at the undeniable satisfaction in her face. “And you haven’t even tried my eggs yet.”

She chuckled. “You keep going on about these scrambled eggs. They better be worth it.”

Addison’s breath caught in his throat. Was she asking him to stay? For the night? How could he when he was meant to be at his cousin’s bachelor party?

And yet how could he possibly leave her when she moved him, body and soul, like no other woman he’d ever met had? Ever. “They are,” he answered.

A soft frown pulled at Casey’s eyebrows. Addison knew his lame and far-from-witty response to her jest was the cause. Her gaze roamed his face, his eyes, as if—once more—she was seeking answers there.

Finally, a long moment of silence later, she tapped him on the back and wriggled free from his weight. She climbed to her feet, her movements stiff. “I’m going to have a shower.”

He straightened to his own feet, swiping his hands on his bare thighs. A churned knot twisted in his gut. A heavy pressure wrapped his chest. “Do you want me to go?”

The smile that curled her lips was small. There was no hint of her dimple at all. “I think it’s for the best, yes?” She looked away, maybe searching for her clothes. Addison didn’t know. All he knew was something had happened to their connection. Something…wrong. “After all, sir knight, we both knew this was just a one-night stand.” Regret flicked across her face, there and gone in a heartbeat. “Thank you for driving me home, Addison. It was…better than a fairytale.”

He watched her turn away from him. Watched her begin to walk away.

No.

No, he wasn’t letting this happen. He wasn’t letting her go. Not yet. There wasn’t a hope in sodding hell this was just a one-night stand. He didn’t know what it was—something amazing, something incredible, maybe even important, but it wasn’t just a one-night stand. He realized that now, and he was going to make her realize it as well.

“Hey,” he called at her back. “Ruby.”

She stopped and twisted a look at him over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Remember when I said I was a brilliant conversationalist?”

Her head dipped in a slight nod.

“Any chance you’d like to test that claim?”

She licked her lips. “How?”

He let his lips curl in a slow grin. “There are still a few hours to sunrise. Why don’t I explain it to you while we wait.”

She studied him, a playful light flickering to life in her eyes. “And then what?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Then I make us some scrambled eggs.”

“And after that?”

“After that? Hmmm, did I happen to mention I am the best veterinarian’s assistant on the planet? And that no one sterilizes butt thermometers like me?”

The dimple creased in her cheek and she turned to face him, gloriously, unabashedly naked. “You didn’t mention that, no.”

He grinned, walking toward her, his heart fast, his body alive. “Fair lady, we’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

The End

Sunset Heat

Luke Beasley dropped onto his suite’s plush white leather sofa, dumped his feet on the glass coffee table before him, dragged his hands through his hair and let out a ragged breath. Damn, who would have thought being a best man was so bloody tiring? He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, willing the tension in his muscles to ebb away. The last time he’d been so buggered he’d spent over forty-eight hours fighting a house fire: the very house fire that almost claimed the groom’s life, come to think of it. Good thing for Rogers Luke had been around, or the guy wouldn’t be getting married in two days’ time.

Better remind him of that fact when he finally gets his arse on the island. That and point out just how much effort you’re putting into organizing his buck’s night. Guilt him into a beer or two at the Oasis Bar before the fun begins.

Luke let out a low chuckle. It was a sound plan, if a somewhat devious one. Aidan Rogers had saved Luke’s arse more than once at a fire scene, so it was probably high time Luke saved Aidan’s. And as for organizing the buck’s night….well, the Bandicoot Cove Resort’s social manager was so damn efficient, all the hard work had already been done. Food for the night? Check. Music for the night? Check. Drinks for the night? Check. Entertainment for the night? Check, check and check.

All pretty much taken care of, thanks to one vivacious bundle of efficiency wrapped up in the social manager’s uniform. All Luke
really
had to do was select which exotic dancer would spin around the pole in the middle of Bar Evoke’s dance floor come midnight.

Okay, if he had to be honest, being tired had little to do with organizing Aidan’s buck’s night and everything to do with the gorgeous beach just outside his door, the stunning pool just around the corner from his door and the maniacal Brit currently showering in the suite’s opulent bathroom.

Luke let out a wry snort. If he’d known his cousin was going to be his “plus one” to Aidan and Mack’s wedding when he’d received the invitation, he’d have started training for this weekend six months ago. It wasn’t until the man launched himself full tilt into the surf at Luke’s hometown, Newcastle, three hours after arriving from England that Luke remembered just how bloody fit his cousin was. And how competitive.

Fun, though. Lots of fun. Another reason you’re so exhausted. Tell me, Luke, just how
did
he con you into participating in a dance-off last night? And when was the last time you spent five hours plus doing little but the Macarena, the Nut Bush, the Time Warp and the Chicken Dance?

Luke chuckled again. Never. Of course, neither had Addison Ellis Lancaster, but that hadn’t stopped either of them. When it came to competing, the award-winning wildlife cinematographer from London was an all-or-nothing player, even in something as ludicrous as a dance-off. God help them both if they ever lived in the same country. They’d both be dead from competition overdrive.

“Head’s up, convict,” a deep voice called, a second before a damp towel whacked into the back of Luke’s head.

Luke pulled a face, unwrapped the length of thick cotton from around his neck and tossed it back to his cousin. “Will you bloody well stop calling me convict? You damn well know my ancestors didn’t come over on the First Fleet.”

The man grinned at him, his brilliantly white teeth flashing in the room’s early morning sunlight. He rounded the sofa and flopped his six-foot-two lanky frame onto it. “Says you. Just ’cause your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was
my
great-great-great-great-great-grandfather’s cousin doesn’t mean he wasn’t a criminal deported for his crimes.”

Luke shook his head. “You’re an idiot. Tell me again why I brought you to this event when I could have brought any one of a bevy of beautiful women from back home instead?”

“Because I’m blood, Luke. I’m blood. And blood is thicker than a bevy of beautiful women’s water any day.”

“True that may be, but apart from that statement sounding just plain wrong, blood isn’t getting me laid tonight.”

Addison raised eyebrows as dark as his hair—which was black and thick and glossy. “Is that all you Australians ever think about? Sex?”

Luke laughed. “Don’t play the offended gentleman with me, Ado. It’s all you Poms think about as well. If I remember correctly, the only reason you became a wildlife cinematographer was to, and I quote, ‘impress the ladies with my far-from-humdrum career’. How many times
have
you scored since arriving in Australia a week ago with the line, ‘I photograph wild lions for a living. What do you do?’”

Addison tipped his head, acknowledging the compliment Luke had apparently given. “Many times, old bean. Many times. Probably as many times as you’ve used the line, ‘I’m a firefighter. Check out my big muscles.’”

Luke grinned. Okay, his cousin had him on that one. When it came to picking up, being a firefighter pretty much was a dream job.

“So, convict—” Addison crossed his ankles on the coffee table and threaded his fingers behind his head, his dark blue eyes glinting with mischief, “—we’ve swum, we’ve snorkeled and we’ve chatted up the waitresses, and it’s only ten a.m. What’s the plan for the rest of today?”

Luke scratched at his stomach, the memory of the little cutie who served them breakfast not an hour ago stirring pleasant sensations in his groin. She was quite lovely and completely charmed by them both. Maybe they could head back to the bistro for some coffee before Luke headed to the island’s main dock? A quick flirt before Aidan arrived by seaplane?

He shot his cousin a sideward glance. “Fancy some coffee at the place we had breakfast?”

Addison’s lips curled away from his teeth. “That sounds like a fine idea. Think you can handle seeing me get the girl again?”

Luke smacked Addison in the gut with the back of his fist, chuckling at the way his cousin jackknifed into a laughing, coughing ball. “Think you can handle being beaten by a convict this time?”

Five minutes later, they made their way through the resort’s lush tropical gardens, heading for the Seaspray Bistro and the waitress who’d more than welcomed their earlier flirting.

And stopped when a naked woman ran out of a suite’s open door directly across their path. A completely naked woman.

Completely naked, absolutely gorgeous and totally familiar.

Kennedy Collins hated butterflies. She knew it was a stupid, ridiculous phobia, but there it was all the same.
Lepidopterophobia.
The fear of butterflies and moths. Not spiders or snakes or sharks or axe-wielding psychopaths, but butterflies. Freaking flittery-fluttery little winged things no one in their right mind would be scared of. Kennedy
was
scared of them, though. Absolutely petrified of them. And Australian butterflies were worse. Who knew if they were as deadly and dangerous as the rest of the godforsaken wildlife in the country? Which meant she ran like a demon was on her tail when the multicolored little flittery-fluttery winged thing had flittered and fluttered its malevolent way into her suite through the open patio door just as she was about to go have a shower.