South Beach: Hot in the City (3 page)

“Now you, fishie,” he finally said. “Tell me all the personal stuff about
you
that I just told you about
me
.” Their glasses were empty now and they’d both opted not to have a second. And she certainly felt the alcohol she’d taken into her system, but fortunately, she’d grown to be as skilled at drinking as she was in bed, so she still had command of the situation.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” she replied.

He drew back slightly, slanted her a teasing grin. “You trying to put the moves on me, fishie?”

Her smile stayed confident, in control. “What if I am?”

“Then I’m flattered.”

“Then let’s walk.” And with that, she reached out and took his hand.

Like before, when he’d helped her up onto her stool, the touch was electric—she hadn’t expected it then and she hadn’t expected it now. But the sensations skittered up her arm and down into her breasts, turning her nipples hard. And the spot between her legs spasmed slightly at the full realization of what she was preparing to do.

They left their shoes at the edge of the bar’s patio, sinking their feet down into cool evening sand. For the first time—maybe it had taken her eyes this long to adjust, or maybe it was the moonlight beginning to illuminate the beach—she noticed that he’d dressed much more casually than this afternoon, in khaki shorts and a more-stylish-than-silly tropical shirt. And that he looked good. He’d looked good this afternoon, and he looked just as good now, and having sex with him again wasn’t going to be a sacrifice.

Feeling powerful and more aggressive than she usually did in her everyday life, she pulled him across the wide beach and down toward the water. Compared to the daytime hours when this stretch of sand was packed with sun worshippers of every ilk—from topless girls to happy families—the beach was quiet, though dotted with other late-night walkers, too.

“Okay, you’re up. Start talking,” he said as they strolled hand in hand along the shore, warm Atlantic waters washing over their toes with every surge of the tide. “I want to know exactly how my little corn-fed farm girl became this bold, sexy, take-charge woman.”

Holly took a deep breath and considered how best to reply. The truth was, maybe a little liquor plus old memories—added on to Trey’s likable openness—made her want to be open, too. And real. Even if she didn’t come right out and blame it on him, she
could
tell him the truth about her life—that she’d gotten off the path she’d intended to take. That she’d sought refuge in wild times, wild people.

But…wait, no. That only made her sound vulnerable, like a woman with regrets. And she couldn’t risk him even wondering if he was the reason why.
Stick to the plan.

“I guess somewhere along the way I just decided to try a different sort of life than I’d always thought I wanted. You only live once, after all.”

“And…” he prodded her.

“And…I moved to Vegas and made a lot of new friends. Did a lot of new things. I guess that builds a girl’s confidence.”
Yeah, just leave it at that.

But he wasn’t buying. “That’s all I get, Holly? Come on, that’s not fair.”

“That’s all there is,” she insisted.

That was when he stopped walking, the move drawing her to a halt as well, and turned to face her in the dark. He still held her hand and now gripped it tighter, squeezing. “What are you about? What makes you happy? What do you love, baby?”

God, such deep questions. Holly thought about the many answers she could give.
I love my family. I love my friends—the oldest ones the best. I love cats, old Frank Sinatra records, warm nights, and…possibility. I love the way it feels when possibility stretches before you in some moments, like anything could happen, like your dreams could be only a heartbeat away.

But why on earth would she ever, ever let herself be that vulnerable with him? What on earth was there to gain? No, she had to stay tough here. Holly-from-Indiana was only a distant memory; newer, bolder, Las Vegas Holly was in charge tonight.

So it seemed like a good time to move past all the catching up and just cut to the chase. “I love sex, Trey. I love sex like I love nothing else in life. And I’m damn good at it, too. And if we were the only people on this beach right now, I’d drop to my knees and give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.”

Chapter Four

“Jesus,” he murmured.

And she said, “No, it’s only me.”

Which made him let out a short, stunned laugh—even as her pussy went warm in her panties at the realization that she really wanted this, really wanted to seduce him. Not just for the power, but for the pleasure, too. She’d never imagined she’d get the opportunity to be with Trey again, and now, here it was before her on a proverbial silver platter. And he looked good enough to eat.

He must have been able to read the lust on her face because that was when his expression changed as well, fading to something more intense, aroused. She was thankful that the nearly full moon now shone like a spotlight on her old lover, illuminating what had been shrouded by darkness at the bar: his warm eyes, his handsome face, his athletic, leanly muscled frame—and the depth of her desire.

Should that make me nervous? Really wanting him?

But no, it shouldn’t—didn’t.
You can want him and still have your way with him.
The wanting would just make the whole experience better.

“Where can we go?” she asked, breathless. She was that sure now, that confident, that he would be into this, too, despite the fact that they hadn’t even kissed.

Looking a little feral in response, he answered simply by taking her hand and leading her back up the beach toward the hotel.

Fortunately, they hadn’t gotten very far. As he pulled her up into the softer sand untouched by the ebb and flow of waves, she murmured, “Where are we going?” She had no idea—to a guestroom in the hotel? A pool house of some sort? Though she couldn’t even remember if the Imperial Palms had such a place. Her mind spun with the anticipation of being alone with him; her breasts swelled with need and her inner thighs ached.

And for a moment, as her bare toes sank into the cool, brown South Beach sand, she let herself simply feel…the fun knowledge that she was about to let herself go, let herself have some fabulous sex with the man she now ran with toward the grand, art deco hotel. She let herself quit thinking, quit plotting—she let herself just be. Yes, she’d been trying to change her wild ways, but at the moment, she was glad she’d let her guard down when Trey had come along.

He led her to a small row of white canopied tents high on the beach, near the pool area. Inside each rested four cushioned lounge chairs. Trey jogged past them, still tugging her along, until he reached the last—and that was the one he pulled her beneath. They could still be seen here if anyone passed close by, but it was much more privacy than they’d had on the open sand or down by the water.

It surprised her a little when Trey then grabbed her, kissed her, passionately. She’d been the aggressive one so far, after all. But Lord, he still kissed good—and she remembered these kisses, she remembered them far more than she’d expected. They swept her back, in a single heartbeat, to that sweet, wild eighteenth summer on this very beach. Some things never changed, she guessed—and the way a guy kissed could be one of them.

She sank into it, pressing her palms against his firm chest, and when their hips came together…mmm, God, he was rock hard. She had to stop kissing, bite her lower lip, let out a breath. This…this felt too good, too fast. This wasn’t…normal lust.
But don’t be afraid. You can handle it. You can handle anything. Just be the woman you’ve been with him so far—tough, ready…emotionless.

And then she remembered what she’d told him she’d do if they were alone. And even if putting herself in a subservient position right now might not sound like the wisest move…well, to go down on him, this fast, would show him exactly how bold she
was
, and remind him of the strong, sturdy chick she’d become.

“Take your shirt off,” she said, voice soft but demanding.

And as he removed it over his head, she didn’t hesitate to reach between them and unbuckle his belt, then undo the button on his shorts, then the zipper. The khaki shorts fell to the beach. And a brisk pull made the silk boxers underneath follow.

God, his cock was gorgeous, standing perfectly rigid and tall, ready for action.
Don’t think about the fact that it was your first. That doesn’t matter.
No, all that mattered was pleasuring them both.

As she dropped to her knees in the sand, she curled her hand around the thick erection before her, squeezing, kneading light but firm, getting to know it again.
It really is like the first time. Except you’re a different person now, so it doesn’t matter. Yeah, go with that last thought.
Then she leaned in and gently licked a drop of pre-come from the head. Mmm… She heard him suck in his breath and felt her stomach contract. She wanted more, more of him inside her.

After an instinctive swirl of her tongue around the tip, she smoothly sank her lips over his length, taking him comfortably deep, loving the sensation of letting her mouth fill with him. Her pussy wept with hunger—yet also with the knowledge that its time would come and for now, this was what she wanted to be doing.

“Aw Holly, Holly baby—God, that’s good.”

Better than when she’d done it the last time, she’d bet. She’d been so new at it then. Now she worked her mouth expertly up and down the solid column of flesh as she massaged its base in her fist. She closed her eyes and got lost in the giving—and in what it gave her in return. She felt ravenous and powerful.

“Look at me,” he told her—and so she acquiesced, opening her eyes to gaze up at him, knowing how obscenely sexual a woman appeared this way, and at the moment not quite able to decide if it gave her more power or if it somehow took it away. She’d never wondered before—but now, suddenly, she did.

Only she didn’t wonder for long, because peering into Trey’s eyes reminded her once more where she was, who she was with, that this was not some typical one-night stand. She’d thought it would be casual sex, but…how
could
it be?

Don’t think. Just don’t think. Just do. Just fuck him. Fuck him like you’ve fucked every other lover you’ve ever had, guy or girl. Fuck him because it feels good. To your body, your flesh. It doesn’t have to go any deeper.

Deciding it was time to get off her knees, she pulled Trey’s perfect dick from her mouth and pushed to her feet. Time to take control here—real control. So she braced her hands on his forearms and began to move him backward toward the nearest chair. “Lie down,” she commanded.

“When did you get so bossy?” he asked, seeming half-amused but also sincerely curious as he plopped back in the chaise.

“When I grew up,” she answered shortly, tired of all his questions about the changes in her. The whys were none of his business—she just wanted him to see and respect the difference.

“I think I like it,” he began, “but…”

And as she straddled him on the lounge, and his hands closed over her hips to pull her down onto him, she said, “Trey, you
do
like it. You
will
like it. Now shut up.” She didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t let him turn this any more real, any less casual, than it already was. It was only sex and she had to keep it that way, once and for all.

The look in his eyes changed then and she felt him finally taking her in, all of her, the her who didn’t plan to get emotional here, the her who only wanted to fuck him and nothing more. “Fine,” he bit off, arms still wrapped around her, and then he began kissing her again, just as hard and passionate as before.

Good. No more words, no more talking. But damn—again, the kissing took her back. And she couldn’t help but let herself get caught up in it a little—it felt too good not to bask in her reaction to it.

Still, the moment she heard a soft purr of pleasure echo from her throat against his lips, she knew it was time to move things along. She pressed her crotch against his erection and rubbed. Even through her panties…mmm, intense pleasure beckoned. And then his hands were exploring her body through her dress—her breasts, her ass; reaching farther around, he began to stroke between her legs. She moaned into his mouth again, unable not to.

And then his hands were under her dress and he was kneading her ass firmly in both hands as they made out, and she was touching his face, the rough stubble on his jaw, as her tongue twined around his in the most delicious kiss she could remember in a very long time.

She heard her own ragged breath as, together, they struggled to remove her panties—finally, she had to stretch her body out alongside his to push them past her knees and kick them off. But she quickly resumed her on-top position—that was where she needed to be with him.

Neither said a word as she balanced, straddling him, then took his hard-on back in hand, lifting it upright until the head nudged at the opening where she knew she was warm and wet.

And then she remembered. Oh God. “Condom,” she muttered.

“Christ,” he whispered. “In my shorts.”

Even as she reached hurriedly down alongside the chair, digging in his back pocket for a wallet, it niggled to know she’d been so close to being flesh-to-flesh with him and that now they would put a layer in between. But she didn’t let herself examine why it bothered her so much—she simply tossed him the wallet and said, “Find it.”

A moment later, she was snatching the square piece of foil from his hand, ripping into it, extracting the thin rubber disc inside. Easing back, she carefully but quickly rolled it on. “Now,” she breathed. “Finally.”

And within seconds she was sinking her pussy down onto him, taking his amazingly hard shaft inside her, sighing with pleasure as he filled her. One inexorable fact of her life was that no matter how many times she had sex, or with how many men, that initial entry always rocked her world. There was nothing else like it—it made her shut her eyes, bite her lip, spend a moment basking in the lascivious pleasure of utter fullness that only a woman who loved sex could know.