The Truth About Numbnuts and Chubbs (13 page)

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He found her by the pool, fast asleep on her stomach with an ass and back that was looking decidedly lobster-like.

"Hey, Bry! I told you to get some sun. Not sun
burn
." He pressed his iced glass on her back and she woke with a start. He laughed. "How long have you been out here? Where's your sunscreen."

She hitched up on her elbows. "Fuck! What happened?"

"Looks like you took a siesta. Here," he passed her another glass. "Mudslide. Although maybe you should have some water instead."

"No. I'm fine." she sat up, looking pained. Her nose was pink too but not so bad. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and squinted, taking a long sip of the creamy cocktail. "That's better! How did the meetings go?"

"Great." He perched on the next lounger. "Thanks for your help this morning."

"What did I do?" she snorted. "I lazed about here all day."

"Nah. You have no idea how great it was to have you with me." That sounded kinda lame, but it came out before he could re-word it. Maybe it was the bikini she wore. Mulligan and her hot body had been on his mind constantly that afternoon and now he found himself gazing at her again like a lecherous schoolboy. He sipped his frosty cocktail. "Don't suppose you had a chance to sign that contract yet."

She laughed softly. "Nope."

"Undecided still about the job?" Ben leaned over and wiped her pouting mouth with his paper napkin. "Mudslide on your lips."

"Oh."

"I thought you'd have a chance to make up your mind sitting out here," he waved his arm toward the shimmering pool. "How can you turn the position down now you know what I' m offering?"

"Hmm. I must say, it would have its perks."

He reached in his shorts pocket and drew out a small box. "Here."

She put down her glass. "What is it?"

"If you open it, you'll find out, won't you?"

It took her a minute. She sat up, fussing with her towel. Finally she took the box and opened it to find the pearl and ribbon thong nestled on a satin lining.

"Wear it tonight," he said, leaning over to plant a kiss on her forehead. "We're having dinner on the balcony and then I'll have another try at winning you over."

He was running out of time. On Monday afternoon they'd be back in New York and she could slip away again. If he didn't get her to agree to his terms now, he probably never would. Bryony Mulligan just had to be his plaything. His exclusive plaything. His personal resort spa. So what was wrong with that? He could give her anything she wanted in return. Almost anything.

She was holding the pearls up, dangling them from her fingers. "You think this is going to fit me?"

"Oh, yes." He grinned. And he would be diving for those pearls real soon.

Replacing her sunglasses she drank her frozen drink, the thong back in its box, no further comment made. Ben ran a finger over her thigh to her knee, circled it and swept down over her shin to her ankle. Couldn't stop touching her. She had great legs and they were satiny smooth.

"You didn't tell anyone you were coming here with me, did you?"

"God, no." She shivered and he wasn't sure it was from the ice in her drink, or out of revulsion at the thought of letting her friends and relatives know about him.

"Am I that bad?"

She chuckled. "You know you are, Petruska. You're very bad for me." He couldn't see her eyes now as they hid behind shaded lenses. "Like all mothers, mine wants me to find a regular, steady guy. A nice guy who won't break my heart."

He wouldn't know about "all mothers". His had walked out on them when he was a boy. From that day his grandmother took over as the driving female force in their household and she didn't talk about hearts. Yelena Petruskaya was a determined, intense, stoic woman who saw only practical reasons for finding a mate. Her grandson had suspected she didn't have a lot of time for romance. But like him, she knew what she wanted when she saw it. She knew what was right and what was good for her grandkids. Maybe he wasn't great for Bryony, but she felt good for him. For now. His selfishness wouldn't allow him to let her go just because he might not be the best thing that ever happened to her. Just because her family didn't approve.

"Nice guys finish last," he said, closing a hand around her ankle.

She tipped her head to one side. "What about nice girls?"

"I've never known any."

Her lips fell open.

"What's up? What's that look for? You know you're not one, right?"

She set her empty glass down. "You're such a horse's ass, Petruska."

"See? Nice girls wouldn't say things like that and they wouldn't fly off with me for a dirty weekend that they planned on no one finding out about."

When the push came he wasn't prepared. He slid off the end of the lounge chair and right into the pool.

Two seconds later she dove in after him, almost losing her bikini top in the process. It was too small for her. He approved. As long as she wore it only when she was with him, of course. He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her close for a kiss, squashing those lush boobs against his bare chest. There was no one else left in the pool area by then. It was late. Five or so. People were getting ready for dinner. No lifeguard on duty, no pool attendant left at the towel stand.

Just the two of them.

He slid his hand down the back of her bikini bottoms and the kiss deepened as they trod water together in the deep end. His finger slipped into her ass crack, felt the movement as her legs shifted back and forth with his.

"I want you right now," he murmured, moving his kisses across her cheek to her ear. "Right here. Give me your pussy."

He heard her draw a quick breath. "What if someone sees? Tons of windows and balconies overlook the pool."

But her nipples poked his chest through her bikini top and he knew the thought aroused her. "Just like the plane," he said softly. "When we were watched. Didn't bother you then."

"Right."

"And we're in the water. They won't know for sure what they're seeing." He'd manipulated his shorts to free his erection and it pushed up at her crotch under the rippling surface, as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Are you always this primed?" she laughed.

"Only around you." It was true. She would wear him out if he wasn't careful; if he didn't start pacing himself.

She hugged him tighter, her arms around his neck, rubbing her mound on his shaft. Waves splattered against the side of the pool as he rocked her and then he tugged her bikini bottoms aside, just enough to give his cock access. Bry kissed his neck and he eased his excited crest between her labia.

Swimming for the side, he pressed her back to the blue tile. Then, holding her waist, eased her fully down on his penis. She giggled, blowing in his ear. "That feels so good, Ben."

He closed his eyes and moved his lower body under the water, fucking her slowly, deeply. Whenever he released her waist, she was pulled downward and speared further on his thrusting cock. She let go of his shoulders and spread her arms along the side of the pool. Ben leaned into her, pressing his mouth to the pulse at the side of her neck, nibbling and sucking. He pushed his finger back into her ass crack and heard her gasp. Her hips moved faster, fucking him as hard as he fucked her. The string tying one side off her bikini bottom had unraveled and now he felt her trimmed cunt rubbing on his pubic hairs. The water churned around them now, slapping up over the side of the pool. She was kidding herself if she thought anyone watching wouldn't know exactly what they were doing now.

"You belong to me, Bryony," he groaned into her skin. No reply, just her shattered rasping breaths, when he used his finger in her ass, impaling both her holes at the same time. "I'm gonna come in you."

"No," she mewled, but her hips still pushed at him, her pussy still squeezed his cock, not slowing down. Her head was back, eyes shut tight. "Oh, Christ," she whimpered. "Oh, shit!"

"I'm gonna fill you up." He grunted. "Here it comes, baby." He ejaculated in a rush of heat, ramming his cock up inside her and she clenched on him like a vise, milking every drop of his seed.

Chapter Ten

Room service set a candlelit table for them on the balcony of their suite. She tried not to think about the other women he must have brought there. If she worked really hard at it she could pretend this was all just for her. Bry didn't want to wake from the dream just yet.

He was looking out over the beach, his arms resting on the stuccoed wall. When her heels clicked toward him over the tiled floor, he turned and looked at her. She knew she looked good in her black, short cocktail dress. It was the best item she'd ever bought, especially as it was uncrushable and could be packed in a bunched up knot in her suitcase, but still come out looking fresh. Her sunburn was feeling better now he'd given her a pat down with some aloe. It wasn't so bad and now, in the moon and candlelight, it even looked like the beginnings of a tan.

To finish her outfit she wore the scarlet Manolos he'd given her after their first night together. Ben's gaze traveled slowly down to them and a half smile bent his lips. Although it wasn't a full grin, it reached all the way up into those deep green pools that regarded her warmly, perhaps even a little wistfully.

"You look beautiful, Ms. Mulligan."

"Why thank you, Mr. Petruska."

He held the chair for her and she sat.

"So you got your business out of the way today. What happens tomorrow?"

"We can take a drive if you like. Or have a picnic on the beach." He seemed mellow this evening, not his usual self. Maybe he was just tired.

"Sounds great." She looked out over the ocean which was also calm tonight, shimmering gently under the stars, not a white crest in sight. "Wow. So weird to be here. Feels miles away from New York." She paused and then laughed at herself. "Which it is, of course." Must be anxious. She always talked too much and stupidly at times like these.

Not that she'd had many times like these. There were few men she cared to impress enough to get nervous around.

"Listen," he said suddenly, "about the pool..."

She waited. He seemed to be having trouble, so she prompted, "The pool?"

"If anything should happen, I'll help you out. I mean, with money."

It took her a moment and then she realized. "You mean if I get pregnant?"

He nodded. "I should have been more careful. You were right about that."

Bry picked up her fork. "It was me too. We were both at fault. We both wanted it that way."

A curious gleam lit his eyes when they sought hers through the tall candles. "I guess."

Pause. "You're not too worried then?"

"What's the point of worrying?" In fact it wasn't her most fertile time of the month. Not that she should be complacent about it, but really why fret over something that might not happen?

"Earlier, on the plane, you said getting pregnant was the last thing you needed."

"It is. I'm a single, working woman who has bills to pay and lives in a one bedroom apartment. But I wouldn't be the first to be stuck raising a child alone would I? If it happened, I'd have to deal with it." She reached for the bread. "Don't worry, I wouldn't come after you for anything."

His dark eyebrows flew up. "
Come after me
?"

"You wouldn't have to have anything to do with it. I'd manage."

"It's my child. Of course I'll be there."

The intensity in his face surprised her. "Whatever." She shrugged and continued her meal.

"
Whatever
?" he exclaimed, banging his knee under the table. "I hope you don't think you'd keep my child from me."

She squinted across the table. The candle flames wavered. "I assumed you wouldn't particularly care."

Most of the color seemed to have drained out of his face.

"But yes, naturally, if we had a child, you could see it if you wanted." Bry smiled to break the tension. "It's all hypothetical anyway. There is no child. Hopefully." She looked at his full plate of pasta. "Why don't you eat?"

"I'm not hungry," he snapped.

"What's wrong?"

He turned his head, his mouth tight, his eyes glaring out over the horizon.

Bry rested her fork on the side of her plate. "I didn't mean—"

"You thought I wouldn't give a shit. You really think I have no feelings, is that it? I suppose you believe all the crap that's written about me too—all the garbage your cousin says about me."

"I never said that."

"You  just inferred it.
This morning
you suggested I needed a medical certificate to prove I was free of disease."

"I was pointing out to you that—"

"For your information I have
never
not used a condom.
Never.
Until the other night with you. Do you think I run around fucking everything in sight and not caring about consequences? I don't know why you even came if my company is so fucking repulsive that you couldn't bear to let anyone know you were spending time with me and God forbid I get you pregnant."