Authors: Lori Foster
She had spunk, he’d give her that. Most women would be carping and crying and complaining right about now. Their prospects for the coming night did not look good. But not Mel. No, she didn’t complain, she just went on insisting everything was dandy in that damn annoying Pollyanna way she had of looking at everything. Even with bedraggled clothes and ruined makeup, she managed to appear regal and in control. She sat before him, her legs crossed just so, her shoulders straight.
She was staring at him again.
“Damn it, Mel.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, at the end of his control. “Do you want me to pick up where we left off?”
She looked at his mouth, then slowly shook her head. “I want to talk to you.”
“That again?” He plopped down, feeling the gritty sand on the back of his thighs, his palms. Damn sand everywhere. “All right. Let’s get it over with.”
She drew her knees up to her chest and carefully arranged her skirt over them. “Whether you deliberately jumped in to save me or not, the result was the same. You did get me to dry land, and I do owe you.”
“That attitude ought to at least make our stay here interesting.”
She drew a deep breath, and he had the feeling she was reaching for calm. “I intend to buy your resort, whether you like it or not.”
He eyed her militant expression and shook his head. “No. Now would you like to wash all that paint off your face? It’s pretty much a mess.”
“Oh.” She pressed her palms to her cheeks and looked a little embarrassed. He hoped that would be the end of it, that she’d get sidetracked with appearances and quit poking holes in his self-esteem.
Not Mel.
“I can wash up later.”
“Not unless it rains again tonight. Already the puddles of fresh water are starting to disappear.”
She blinked slowly, as if barely comprehending his words. “You expect me to wash my face in a puddle?”
“Well, honey, your options are somewhat limited right about now. It’s either salt water, which is pretty sticky when it’s drying, or a fresh rainwater puddle. The sand is clean, so the water is, too. And I can even loan you some of my soap—for a fee.”
In the fading light, her pale blue eyes looked almost iridescent. He’d always thought she had the sexiest and most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. She didn’t need makeup.
“What fee?”
“Another kiss, that’s all.” He could still taste her, and he wanted more.
“Bargaining away your goods? A real gentleman would just share.”
“But we both know there’s no real gentlemen on this island, don’t we?” Provoking her seemed his only defense. If she was mad, she wouldn’t talk about owing him. “Now what’ll it be? You want the soap or not?”
Indignation made her eyes bright. “Oh, all right.” Taking him by surprise, she leaned forward, grabbed his face in both hands and gave him a hard, dry smooch. He didn’t even have time to pucker. “There. Now where’s the soap?”
“That’s it?” He had to fight to keep from laughing. Her averted gaze told him what that impromptu kiss had cost her in the way of nerve.
“That’s it.” She tried to look smug, but she avoided his gaze so the effect was minimal. “You didn’t say what kind of kiss.”
“I see I’ll have to word myself more carefully in the future.” Still smiling, Adam dug through his bag and pulled out the scented bar of green soap. It smelled like Brut cologne.
Melanie stared at it. “Is that all you have?”
“Sorry, but I didn’t take into account feminine bathing preferences when packing it. It’ll do the job. And you better hurry up before all the water either evaporates or sinks into the ground.”
She took the soap and moved only a few feet away to where a shallow puddle had formed in the sand between some scrub grass and a young mangrove tree. On her knees, she bent forward and splashed her face. The position put her shapely rump up in the air, and Adam had to choke back several comments that tripped to the tip of his tongue.
Worse than that, he had to sit on his hands to keep from touching that sweet little bottom. He’d felt its softness when they were swimming to shore, had twice rested his head against her delicious buttocks. He’d had to fight the inclination to explore that area further while the opportunity presented itself. He’d even considered taking a few small nibbles, he’d always had a certain fondness for feminine posteriors, and everything about Melanie Tucker had always been a source of fascination.
She’d been too frightened of the ocean to notice his interest; he doubted that was the case now. But the woman obviously had no idea of her own charms. If she did, she sure wouldn’t offer up such an irresistible temptation.
Hadn’t her fiancé ever told her what a great bottom she had?
When she lingered, splashing again and again, he finally turned away. He wasn’t into torture, and tonight his control seemed precarious, at best.
A few minutes later, face freshly scrubbed and even more appealing, Mel returned his soap to him. She sat beside him, looking more self-conscious than ever, but also a lot more determined. “Now, about the resort.”
“Do you want a comb or some lotion?”
“Does the lotion smell like the soap?”
He grinned. “Sure does.”
She stuck out her small hand, palm up.
Adam held the bottle out of reach. “You know you’ll owe me again, only this time it’ll be my choice.”
She sighed. “And what exactly would your choice be?”
After looking her over from head to toe, he locked onto her gaze. Her eyes were wide and wary, and he thought he might be content to simply look at her all night. “It’s a warm evening.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t relish sleeping on this sand.” He picked up a handful and let it sift through his fingers. “It sure as hell won’t be very comfortable.”
“We’ll be rescued before it’s a problem.”
He grunted. Damn persistent witch. “Maybe, but if we’re not, I want you to lose the skirt.”
Her back snapped straight, and she glared at him. “This time you have to be joking.”
“Nope.” He enjoyed watching the flush bloom over her face and upper chest. He imagined her breasts rosy and warm, and shifted uncomfortably. “It’s the only piece of material we have that’s big enough to serve as a sheet. We can both snuggle up on it.” When she looked furious, he asked softly, “What’s the matter, Mel? If you’re so sure we’ll get rescued, then it won’t be a problem.”
He’d caught her and he knew it. His motives were twofold. If he could keep her mind on sex and off his personal business, she’d likely forget his financial confession. At the same time, he knew he’d gladly be stranded for a month if it meant he could fulfill his fantasy of being with her. Like an obsession that wouldn’t go away, he wanted her as much now as he ever had. Maybe more, because he’d kissed her and knew how good she tasted, how perfect it had felt.
They had a staring contest going, one he knew he’d win because he enjoyed looking into her blue eyes.
“Oh, all right. But you’re being outrageous and making me dislike you immensely.”
He shrugged. “You’ve always disliked me. Not surprising. We’re from different worlds.”
Her mouth tightened. “I disliked you, Adam, not because you didn’t have as much money as me. But because you were as provoking then as you are now.”
Without a word, he handed her the lotion.
If she only knew how difficult it was for him to smell his favorite scent on her. It felt as if he’d branded her somehow, made her his by giving her his scent. It turned him on.
The entire atmosphere of the island was conducive to primal needs, reducing a man to his basic instincts. He wanted to protect her, provide for her. He wanted to claim her as his own in the most elemental way.
Damn, the coming night would be torture.
He was looking forward to it already.
CHAPTER FIVE
They had fruit for dinner, but Melanie could barely eat as she watched the island grow darker and darker. Nervousness set in whenever she thought of the night to come, of being alone with Adam on a deserted island.
After cracking a couple of coconuts open and using his knife to slice up several oranges, he’d gone back up the beach to fetch the clothes he’d left behind and the raft they’d floated in on. Adam made the decision that they should stay by the house in case it rained again, but for now, they remained outside.
The heat had settled in like a damp blanket. A slight, balmy breeze barely stirred the air, rustling the dry grasses and fringed palm leaves. She got to her feet to gather the remains of their meal and put the scraps out of the way in a tidy pile. She knew Adam watched her every move, could feel his hot gaze touching on her everywhere. Earlier, before the sun had gone, he’d entertained himself by perusing his damn
Key to the Keys,
where he’d found the idea for scraping the coconut shells clean and filling them with the remains of the rainwater.
She bent to rinse her hands in one of the few remaining puddles and nearly jumped out of her skin when he shifted.
“Mel.”
She slowly closed her eyes at the husky way he’d said her name. She swallowed hard, then whispered, “Yes?”
A long moment of silence had her nerves pulled taut, when he finally said, “Come here.”
With her back still to him, she sat on her heels, trying to calm her racing heart. Never had she been so conscious of another human being, but she should have suspected it would be this way. Good or bad, she’d always held a fascinated awareness of Adam that wouldn’t go away, not even with the passing of seven years.
She was a grown woman, free to do as she pleased, and though she’d never really believed in casual sex, situations like this one just didn’t happen often. And in truth, there was nothing casual in what she felt for Adam.
She turned her head to look at him. “Why?”
Lazily, his voice nearly drugged, he said, “You’re keyed up. I can feel it. Come here and I’ll comb your hair.”
She lifted one hand to her tangled curls. That’s all he wanted to do? He leaned against a palm tree, looking utterly relaxed, but she could feel his tension washing over her in waves. Her heartbeat doubled. “I...I can do it.”
“I want to do it for you.” When she started to protest, he said, “It’s the price for using the comb. Now come here.”
On legs that felt much too wobbly, she stood and walked to him until only a foot was between them. Adam took her hand, turned her around, then tugged her down between his thighs. Taking his time, he situated her just so. Melanie stared straight ahead at the silhouette of a palm tree against the dark gray sky. Adam’s breath touched her neck when he whispered, “Relax, Mel. I won’t hurt you. Ever.”
She had no response to that. Her senses rioted, her mind numb against everything but the feel of his fingers in her hair, gently untangling every curl.
“I like your hair short.”
Conversation. Innocuous, innocent conversation. She grasped it like a lifeline, trying to hide the mixed jumble of emotions she suffered. “I cut it after college. Jerry didn’t like it. He thought it looked too unruly.”
The comb stilled for the slightest moment, then Adam laid it aside. “You always had beautiful hair. I remember when you went from braids to barrettes to those pretty combs. I used to imagine your hair trailing over my chest.”
“Adam...”
“And my stomach.”
She bit her lip, the imagery crystal clear in her mind.
“Jerry must have been a damn fool.”
Her heart was already racing when the weight of Adam’s hands settled on her shoulders. “It’s getting late.”
Not knowing what to say to that, she simply nodded.
“No one’s coming tonight to rescue us, honey.”
She nodded again. Even if a rescue crew tried, finding them in the darkness would be nearly impossible.
“We had a deal.”
There it was—the thing she had dreaded most, and yet strangely hungered for. At least it was dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to see her clearly. She knew what she looked like, knew she was too thin, too gangly. A man like Adam, who’d had more than his fair share of feminine attention, might very well be disappointed. The thought made her stomach churn.
He stood and pulled her up with him, then stepped in front of her. Heat seemed to pour off him in waves, bringing with it his heady scent—not of the now familiar cologne, but of the man. Breathing deeply, she drew that scent into herself. She felt drunk with the pleasure and nervousness of the moment.
“Mel?” He touched her cheek, smoothed his hand over her skin. “It’s okay, honey.”
She nearly collapsed. He wasn’t going to pressure her. It was still her choice, and for that reason more than any other, she wanted to prove herself. She’d made a deal and she would stick to it. But when her fingers went to the tie at her skirt, he brushed her hands away and did the unwrapping himself, gently easing the knot apart and revealing her with slow anticipation as if she were a long-awaited gift.
Holding the skirt open with clenched fists, Adam simply looked. Melanie was grateful for the added shadows of the trees behind them, but then Adam dropped the skirt and took her hand, easing her into the moonlight. She held her breath, keeping her head high, refusing to show her uncertainty. She locked her thighs and waited.
For long, agonizing moments, he stood there, saying nothing, barely breathing. When she saw the beginning of his slow smile, she almost crumbled inside. “Don’t...don’t you
dare
laugh at me, Adam Stone.”
His eyes glittered in the darkness, and his hands cupped her hips, gently squeezing. “Honey, I’m so far from laughing right now, I couldn’t even work up a chuckle.” He gave her a light, barely there kiss on her lips, then dropped to his knees in front of her.
Alarmed, she started to step back, but he held onto her.
“This has been coming a long time, Mel.” His fingers on her hips flexed, caressing her. “Damn, I’ve wanted you so long, I can’t remember when I haven’t wanted you.”
“You...you didn’t even
like
me.”
“I liked you too much.”
Not giving her time to mull that stark confession over, he slid his hot palms up and down the backs of her thighs. He made her knees weak, her stomach jumpy. “You’re perfect, Mel. Sleek and sexy.” He glanced up at her, his expression fixed. “How the hell did you disguise yourself so well?”
He evidently didn’t want an answer. He leaned forward and placed a warm, damp kiss on her navel. Stunned, she braced her hands on his shoulders and drew in a shaky breath. “Adam, I feel...funny.” She could barely get the words out around the tightness in her throat.
“It’s the coconut,” he whispered, nibbling on her belly with his lips and rubbing his cheek against her. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”
“Don’t...don’t be ridiculous.” She moaned when his hands glided higher, coasting over her bottom, then gripping her tight, pulling her closer to his kiss. His tongue dipped into her navel.
“True,” he countered, concentrating his kisses over the low-riding waistband of her silky tap pants, “it’s in the guidebook.”
“Adam...”
“Aren’t you turned on just a little, Mel?”
Oh, yes.
But what she felt had nothing to do with coconut and everything to do with Adam Stone. It seemed he knew exactly how to touch her, where to kiss her, how to make her frantic with need. She’d pictured being with Adam many times, but she’d never imagined anything quite this intense.
Grasping her waist, he lowered her slowly, trailing kisses up her body as she sank onto her knees in the sand. His mouth lingered at her midriff; his tongue licked a hot path from rib to rib. He nudged aside the halter and placed damp, openmouthed kisses on one tingling breast, only inches away from her painfully tight nipple. He nuzzled into her cleavage. “I’d like to eat you up from head to toe, Mel. You taste so damn good.”
This time she couldn’t stop the groan. Embarrassed by her unrestrained response, she tried to add a bit of jest to the moment. “Did...did you feed me the coconut on purpose?”
He drew the tender skin of her throat against his teeth, leaving his mark behind and eliciting another raw moan. “Right now, I’d do whatever it takes. God knows we’ll never have another opportunity like this one.”
He didn’t say it, but she knew that once they were rescued, he’d consider their time at an end. If this was all she would ever have, she didn’t want to waste it.
Both his hands cupped her head, and he gently touched his mouth to hers. “Tell me you want me, too, sweetheart.”
She gasped out a resounding, “Yes.”
Before the agreement had finished leaving her mouth, Adam devoured it, sucking it from her, his tongue searching for and finding hers. This wasn’t to be a slow interlude, evidently, given his feverish pace. But she didn’t mind. She felt ready to fracture with need. With each new touch, each deeper kiss, she wanted him more.
He pulled away to shake out her skirt across the sand. Then, staring into her eyes, he shoved down his boxers. Mel swayed on her knees, he was so perfect, so sexy.
Blindly, she reached out to cup him in her palms. He made a deep sound of pleasure and pain, fisted his hands on his thighs and tilted his head back. His eyes were tightly closed.
She wrapped her fingers around his throbbing erection and stroked. When her thumb glided over the tip of him, she found a drop of moisture. Fascinated, she gently spread it around and around, until his entire body trembled.
“Enough.” He gripped her wrists and pulled her away. “I can’t take it, Mel. Not yet. Maybe after...”
She started to protest, but he didn’t give her time. His hands cupped her breasts; his thumbs brushed her nipples. When she groaned, he said, “You’re wearing too many clothes, honey. I want to see you naked. I want to kiss you everywhere.”
Everywhere?
It took him mere seconds to untie her halter and bare her breasts. She felt another stab of vulnerability, until he bent to greedily suck one nipple. There were no preliminaries, no forewarnings. Just the hot, moist pull of his mouth and the rough stroke of his tongue. It was so intense she tried to draw away with a short, startled exclamation. But he held her close, his callused hands spread wide on her back, gently refusing to let her retreat.
After long minutes he released her, only to switch to her other nipple.
“Adam...”
“It’s the coconut, sweetheart.” He nipped her with his teeth, and she trembled, tangling her fingers in the silky hair over his nape, trying to bring his mouth to hers. But he didn’t budge. “I intend to drink my fill, Mel, so quit fighting me.”
His fill turned out to be long minutes of sheer agony. Before he finished she was spread on her back, half on, half off the skirt, and he had settled comfortably between her thighs. She couldn’t keep her hips still, thrusting up against him, but that only seemed to encourage him, to make him more ruthless. When she tugged on his hair, hurting his injured head, he captured both her wrists in one hand and pinned her arms over her head.
Leaning back on his knees, his eyes glowing in the darkness, he whispered, “It feels like a lifetime I’ve been waiting to see you like this.” The atmosphere vibrated with his potent sexuality, making her feel decadent and drunk with erotic need.
“I can’t tell you how many times I imagined coming after you, forcing you to help me get over my obsession. I wanted you just like this, open to me, accepting me.”
As he spoke, he kept her arms immobile, stroking his free hand slowly down her side, closer and closer to the notch of her thighs. Tingling from the inside out, she opened herself a little wider, making it easy for him, trying to hurry him.
“That’s it, Mel. Show me that you want me.”
“I do.”
“Not enough. Not yet.”
His long fingers slid over the soft material of her shorts, right where she needed his touch most. No man had ever done this to her, and it seemed so right that Adam would be the first to make her feel this way. She had the vague impression of knowing this was what she’d waited for.
He
was what she’d waited for.
“Please...” She felt so close to something she’d never experienced, and she desperately wanted it. She strained against him, lifting her hips as high as she could.
He pulled back. His eyes were midnight dark as he looked at her, seeing everything. With a slight shake of his head, he whispered, “Not yet, baby.”
Gasping, she scrambled up and reached for him. Adam let her get as far as her knees, then caught the waistband of her shorts and started working them down. She tried to kiss him but he dodged her mouth, chuckling softly.
“It’s okay, Mel. I promise. I’ll take care of you.”
“I want you to take care of me now.”
He smiled, amused by her sudden lack of inhibition and uncharacteristic brazenness. “So impatient,” he chided.
“You’re the one who fed me the damn coconut!”
He slid her shorts and her panties down to her knees, then eased her onto her back to slip them the rest of the way off. He tossed them aside, and with a hand on each knee, spread her thighs wide. “Such long, sexy legs, Mel. Not at all what I imagined. Even better...” He bent to kiss the inside of one knee. “Hell, I’m glad I went overboard.”
“Really?” She tried to keep her mind clear, to be coherent, but the cool brush of his silky hair on the sensitive inside of her thigh was startling. The fact that this was Adam, the town bad boy, the man who’d taken over her dreams, made it all the more incredible.
He kissed her belly a few inches below her belly button, then licked the spot. “Absolutely,” he said with a throaty groan, then started licking his way downward.
“Adam.”
His mouth closed over her, and she stiffened at the acute pleasure. Never in her wildest imagination had she been able to aptly prepare for such a thing. Her muscles went taut while her insides seemed fluid. His rasping tongue delved and stroked and licked, and when he slipped one long finger inside her she climaxed with a raw groan that ripped from her throat and echoed around the quiet island. Adam held her there, insatiable, refusing to let the pleasure dwindle until her body went utterly limp.