Body Moves. Jodi Lynn Copeland
“I’ll still be more careful.”
“You said same-day facilities are one of the ways the resort’s able to keep costs down,” he rushed on, needing to get the apologetic look off her face. “What are the others?”
“Unlike a lot of the islands around us, we’re not governed by the United States.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “In other words, you’re able to avoid licensing fees and training staff in the latest procedures.”
Danica stopped walking to shoot him a frosty glare. “All of Private Indulgence’s facilities and staff are accredited and operate under international standards, Mr. Cantrell.” The icy look softened, along with her tone. “The cost of living is simply lower here, which allows us to charge less overall while providing first-rate, state-of-the-art services by top-notch specialists. Many of our procedures are discounted seventy to eighty percent as compared with the national average.”
Well, fuck. Instead of uncovering a skeleton in the resort’s figurative closet, he felt impressed for the second time since meeting her. He couldn’t stop his smile. “I’d prefer you to call me Jordan.”
“Like the almond.” Cheeks gone rosy, she leaned close to release another of those dangerously enticing laughs. “That probably sounded odd.” Her eyes warmed as she confided in a husky whisper, “It’s just that I have a nut fetish.”
2
“As a physician, I have to caution you against doing this,” Danica scolded herself as she adjusted the temperature of the water streaming from her bathtub faucet.
Not only was Lena due over in fifteen minutes to brainstorm fund-raiser ideas to raise money for resort expansion, but Danica would pay hell in the form of back pain for folding her body up like a human pretzel. Climaxing with the aid of a vibrator on the softness of her bed would be so much healthier, but nowhere nearly as enjoyable.
More than feeling good was at stake, she recognized as she stepped into the tub and sank down in the inch of water pooling in the blue porcelain basin. She had to get over her bizarre want for Jordan. From the way he’d accused the resort and its staff of operating below the law to the noteworthy time he’d arrived in her office, he was destined to be trouble.
One quick orgasm and maybe, if their paths happened to cross again, she wouldn’t have to worry over whispering about her nut fetish.
Mortification attempted to surface with the memory of her inappropriate words. It would have been bad saying them to a normal man. It was downright shameful saying them to a man who had issues with his genitalia.
Hopefully Jordan’s nuts worked fine. Even now he could be slipping into the shower of his rental villa on the other side of the resort to treat his balls to a fondling.
The purpose of reclining back on the tub’s molded floor and propping her feet on either side of the chrome faucet head was to expunge her want for Jordan. Instead, as the fast-running water connected with the folds of her sex, visions of him masturbating in his shower filled her mind.
It wasn’t an undersized cock his fingers glided over, but a long, thick solid staff jutting from a thatch of dark blond pubic hair.
Relenting to the vision, Danica closed her eyes and used her fingers to spread her pussy lips. Normally, she loathed the uneven set of her hips, which made it next to impossible to find clothes that looked good on her. Now, her off-kilter frame was a blessing, placing her clit at an angle that had each of the millions of beads of water striking against it as they hammered down from the faucet.
Her cunt contracted with the intensity of pleasure blasting to her core. Warmth licked through her, increasing to a carnal inferno as she imagined Jordan standing in the opposite end of the tub, his fingers stroking over his proud member, his eyes bluer than ever with the heat of passion.
“I want you.” She could almost hear him speak the words in a voice gone rough with lust. “I want my tongue on your body, my cock filling you up.”
“Yes. I want that, too,” Danica panted.
Did she? Of course not, but that wasn’t important. This wasn’t real, even if it felt too good to be anything else.
She clung to the imaginary as the pulsating water continued its sensual torment. She could come at any moment simply by lifting her hips and accepting the full force of the rushing water deep into her sex. This was the first time she’d taken for pleasure in months, and she wasn’t giving in yet, to her body’s trembling desire or reality.
Jordan came down on his knees in the shallow water. His muscular, hair-lined thighs hovered around her head, his fingers continuing to pet his hot, hard flesh. A drop of silky fluid cascaded from the tip of his cock to land on her upper lip. She swiped at the creamy droplet with her tongue, and his essence exploded over her taste buds.
More. She needed more.
Tilting back her head, Danica reached out her tongue and greedily lapped at the plump, purple head of his penis. So good. So male. She wanted to sink her lips down his shaft, feel his cum pummeling the back of her throat with the power of his climax.
He lifted his cock from her tongue before she could take him inside her mouth. Hands moved to her legs, more fingers went to her pussy. Opening her farther.
The increased pressure arched her hips up, connecting her swollen flesh with the cold, solid chrome of the faucet. Fingernails bit into her tender thighs, the exquisite nip propelling her ass off the tub floor. Her clit scraped against the shaft. Her leg muscles tightened. The walls of her cunt constricted with each pass of her sex along the shaft, the force of the wicked water consuming her burning flesh.
Orgasm flooded her in a pulsing rush. She screamed with its magnitude, harder as the shaft chafed against her clit. Holding herself up became too much to bear.
Gasping, she fell back into the shallow water, extending her climax with the thrust of two fingers inside her creaming, clenching sheath.
The sound of knocking filtered through the open bathroom window, overpowering the mad beat of her pulse in her ears.
Opening her eyes, Danica pulled her fingers from her body. She turned off the water and pushed to her feet, stumbling a bit with the wearing effect orgasm and the pretzel position had on her legs.
Damn. Lena was early. Only by ten minutes, but they were ten minutes she’d been counting on to come down from her climax high and get cleaned up.
Lena wouldn’t care if she was clean. Considering how loudly Danica had screamed with her orgasm, her friend was bound to know what she’d been doing. As often as Lena mentioned Danica’s dating dry spell, she was probably ecstatic to have overheard Danica having sex of any kind.
The knocking continued. She took a few seconds to blot at the portion of her hair that had found its way into the water. Grabbing her well-worn robe from the hook next to the sink, she quickly tied the sash and padded barefoot through the one-story villa to the front door.
She flipped on the entryway light and drew in a calming breath as she opened the door for Lena. Then nearly choked to death on that breath when she discovered it wasn’t Lena waiting in the darkness, but a sexily disheveled Jordan with a smile so wickedly perceptive there was no denying he’d heard her rapturous scream.
She didn’t owe him an explanation. He shouldn’t even be at her villa. Still, words rushed out of her mouth. “You think I have a man in here. I don’t have a man in here.”
That was where she was mistaken, Jordan thought, giving her flushed, damp body an appreciative ogling that had his rock-solid dick jerking beneath his untucked shirt. It might not have been a man who’d made her shout so loudly he’d heard her impassioned cry long before reaching her door, but there was a man in her villa. Or rather there was about to be.
“Actually, you do.” He pushed his way inside, taking a second to kick the door shut before he pinned her against the