One Kiss In... Hawaii. Jill Monroe
place is bigger than my apartment,” she said, twisting around to survey the subdued tropical-print sofa and love seat. “I don’t even want to know how much this sucker costs for a night.”
He snorted. “Trust me, you don’t. I only splurged because I haven’t taken a vacation in years.”
She stepped out onto the balcony, noticed that it wrapped around the corner and laughed with delight. “I could spend the whole week right here and be happy.”
He came up behind her, slid his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Okay,” he murmured against her warm sweet skin.
She laughed softly and leaned back into him, hugging his arms to her waist. “From up here you can see the ocean’s different shades of blue,” she said in a shaky voice. “You drive me crazy when you kiss my neck like that. But you know that, don’t you?”
He smiled. “We can have dinner out here if you want. We should be able to catch part of the sunset.”
She turned in his arms to face him, the bewitching green of her eyes knocking the breath out of him. “But then we’d have to hurry our shower.”
“Screw dinner,” he said, and covered her mouth with his.
Her eager response pleased him, triggered a need in him impossibly greater than he’d experienced on the beach. She pushed against him so hard that he stumbled back a step. She went with him, clutching the front of his shirt, returning his kisses with a fervor that matched his.
But it was no good, her arms shielding her breasts like that. He wanted to feel them pressed against his chest. He wanted to see her perfect round breasts bared again. He needed to see all of her.
With Herculean effort, he pulled away, ignoring her wide startled eyes. “Inside,” he said, all but dragging her into the parlor.
He headed straight for the bedroom, unable to tamp down the pressure building inside of him like a volcano ready to explode. This wasn’t him, nothing close to who he was or how he behaved with a woman. Normally he was patient, waited for the right mood. He tried to be thoughtful, even romantic at times, designing the right setting—candle, flowers, the whole thing.
But with Mia, he couldn’t think straight. Around her it seemed that all he did was react, lose himself in the primal satisfaction of tasting her eager mouth, coaxing her nipples into tight buds flushed dark with arousal. The way he felt was crazy—animalistic—and he couldn’t seem to do a damn thing about it.
MIA ENTERED THE BEDROOM ahead of David, both of them ignoring the light switch. The drapes to the balcony door were open halfway, and pinkish gold rays bathed the room in a sensual glow that made her heart lurch. The Asian-inspired armoire and headboard matched the tasteful parlor furniture, and the beautiful tan silk duvet that topped the king-size bed was a far cry from the floral spreads that serviced her economy room.
She was startled to discover that her legs were trembling a little when she turned to face David. Maybe because there was something different about him. Nothing scary or awful, kind of thrilling really. The way he looked as if he were doing everything in his power not to strip her naked and force her back onto the bed.
“David?” Her voice came out strange, husky and tentative.
“I know, Mia,” he said quietly, brushing a gentle finger across her lips.
What did he know? She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say herself. But when he drew his fingers down the front of her top and then slipped his hand underneath, she said, “Shower first.”
“All right.” He splayed his fingers across her belly, grazed the underside of her breast through her bikini top.
It wasn’t fair that his palm could feel so dry and cool when her skin was fever hot. Nor was it fair the he smelled so clean and masculine. “Don’t.”
He met her eyes, his surprised and alarmed. Promptly he let his hand drop. “Mia, I’m sorry.”
“No,” she said, feeling horrible for giving him the wrong impression. “No. It’s just that you’ve showered. I haven’t.”
Relief softened his mouth. “Would it help if I told you that you smell so damn good I want to—”
“No.” She put a hand over his mouth, and then laughed when he nipped at her palm. “Don’t you dare try to talk me out of it.”
He took her by both wrists and stretched her arms over her head.
Her pulse went nuts. He had to feel it. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you undress.” He yanked her tank top off before she could respond.
“I doubt that’s going to work out well,” she said, and gasped when he freed her bikini top and bared her breasts. The cool air danced over her nipples, and she knew without looking that they were fully extended.
He tossed both tops over his shoulder, his gaze captured by her breasts.
Then he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her bikini bottoms.
All rational thought deserted her. The trembling started in her chest and moved down her legs, and there didn’t seem to be a damn thing she could do about it.
David was crouched in front of her, urging her to step out of the bottoms, and she braced a hand on his shoulder, praying hard that she wouldn’t end up in an embarrassing heap.
He kissed the area just above where her bikini wax ended, and then slowly got to his feet.
At the raw hunger in his eyes, a wave of warm pleasure washed over her. He tenderly touched her breasts, and rubbed the pad of his thumb over one aching nipple. She swallowed hard, wishing his shirt were off, wishing he were as naked as she was. It would only mean trouble. She really did want that shower before they made love, but right now, like an addict craving a fix, she needed to feel the friction of his bare, muscled chest rubbing her naked breasts.
“Go,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Take off your shirt first.”
“Go.” He gripped her by her upper arms, his fingers digging lightly into her flesh as he held her away from him. The anguished expression on his face should have been enough to keep her at bay, but a part of her was thrilled that she’d undermined this man of iron will. “Now.”
She shook free and pushed his shirt up. “Come with me.”
“Mia.” He hesitated, but only for a second, and then fumbled with the drawstring to his swim trunks, stopping long enough to help her pull off his shirt.
She stepped back, watched him strip off his trunks, barely able to catch her breath. He was hard, really hard, and much bigger than she’d imagined. When he kicked his trunks out of the way, a sudden and totally inappropriate giggle tickled inside her throat.
This was hardly the same man who was always impeccably dressed, never had a hair out of place, or God forbid, tolerated a cluttered desk or office.
He didn’t notice her amusement. His gaze roamed her nude body, his lips damp and slightly parted, muscles tensed, like a hungry cougar ready to pounce on his next meal. His attention lingered on the recent wax job, and his small smile seemed just as predatory.
“Shower,” she reminded him as she backed up, no longer feeling in control.
“Right direction,” he said, “but you’re about to ram that cute behind of yours into the door frame.”
“Oh.”
“You can turn around. I won’t bite.” Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Yet.”
She lifted her chin, and then her gaze snagged on his twitching penis, and she got all wobbly inside again. When he touched himself, she forgot what she was doing and stared at him, a warm flush of excitement enveloping her entire body. It took her a second to snap out of it. She continued to back up, annoyed when she bumped her hip before crossing