Читать книгу Taking It All Off - Cindi Myers, Cindi Myers - Страница 11

THEY WALKED along the beach, not speaking. Jake was lost in thought, scarcely aware of Glynna’s hand in his or the waves washing over their feet. The idea to photograph her had just come to him, but the more he thought about it, the more intrigued he was. She had a physical beauty that would translate well to film—the trick would be capturing both the outer hardness and inner vulnerability of her personality.

“Where are we going?” she asked again.

Her question pulled him away from puzzling over lighting and setting and all the variables a good photograph entails, back to the woman herself. He glanced at her. The wind had tangled her hair and moonlight silvered her skin. How had he ever thought she was cold? “I’m not sure. But I’ll know it when I see it.” He’d decided earlier that a woman who was always so worried about what others thought of her—or at least what her father thought—needed to be challenged to flaunt convention. Now he had to figure out how to do that.

The music from the karaoke club was closer now. According to the resort brochure, after midnight it became a dance club, with an outdoor dance floor overlooking the ocean. “Let’s go to the club,” he said, heading in that direction.

She lagged behind. “I don’t want to dance.”

He grinned. “You’ll like this kind of dancing. I promise.”

Instead of leading her to the club directly, he took her to the beach below the dance patio. Stone steps led up to the patio itself, and a row of coconut palms lined the stone wall that separated it from the beach. If he remembered correctly… Yes, there it was. A hammock swung between two of the palms, just on the edge of the light spilling from the dance floor.

He led her to the hammock. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought this would be a nice place for a little private dancing.”

She looked up, a worried frown wrinkling her normally smooth brow. Music pounded overhead, mixed with laughter, the clink of glasses and the shuffling of dancing couples. “What do you mean?”

He pulled her into his arms, tight against his erection, so she’d have no doubt of his feelings. “Have you ever made love in a public place before?”

“No!”

She tried to pull away, but he held her close, studying her face to gauge her reaction to his words. “It can be very exciting.” He trailed one finger along her collarbone, down around the curve of her breast. Her lips parted and she let out a soft sigh. “Knowing that at any moment, you might be caught. Someone might hear you.” He kissed her neck and she arched against him. She smelled of vanilla and spice and herbal shampoo. “Someone might see you.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she murmured.

“Why not? It’s not all that public.” He raised his head and looked around them. “It’s relatively dark under here. No one can really see us. And the music’s loud. They won’t hear us. Unless you scream.” He nibbled her neck. “You like to scream when you come, don’t you? And I intend to make you come. Long and hard.”

“Jake, I…”

He pulled back enough to look her in the eye. “You said you wanted to find out about yourself. You do that by taking chances, by doing things you’ve never done before.”

She glanced over his shoulder, out onto the empty beach. “If anyone did see us, they wouldn’t know who we were, would they?”

“They’d think we were one more honeymoon couple, overcome by passion.” He raked his thumb over her nipple. It hardened at his touch.

“All right.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll play.”

The knowledge that she’d overcome her natural reluctance stirred him. He kissed her, hard and deep, his tongue plunging and withdrawing in frank imitation of what he would do with her later. She responded with surprising ardor, pressing against him, her tongue teasing his. While his mouth made love to hers, he caressed her breasts. The silk of her shirt slid beneath his hand, heightening sensation. Her moan cut through him as he flicked his thumb across her distended nipples.

“Here. Sit down.” He nudged her back until she half sat, half fell into the hammock. It swung forward, bumping against him, and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing his erection flush between her spread legs.

Before he could move back, she reached down and shaped her hand to him. “I love it that you’re so hard already,” she said, the whispered words making him harder still.

Determined to maintain control of the situation, he pushed her hand away and took her shirt in both hands and shoved it up over her breasts. Her naked skin was pale in the dim light, her nipples small dark points. At the first touch of his lips on her, she cried out, then clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the cry. “That’s right,” he whispered against her breast. “Someone might hear us.”

She whimpered and ground against him. The friction was driving him mad and he reached down to unzip his shorts. Her hand on his stopped him. “Let me.”

He wanted to say no, that he was in charge of this “lesson,” but her eyes locked to his convinced him giving up this little bit of command would be worth it. With agonizing slowness, she lowered the zipper, letting her thumb trail the hard ridge of his cock. Dropping her gaze to his crotch, she pulled back his briefs, and touched the spot of wetness forming at the tip of his penis. He sucked in his breath as she took one finger and spread the moisture around the head. Her touch sent electric shocks of sensation through him, and he had to lock his knees to keep standing. If he wasn’t careful, this was all going to be over in a hurry.

Partly to distract her, and partly to distract himself, he slipped two fingers underneath the crotch of her shorts. She was wet and naked under there, the twin sensations loosening his control another notch. With a groan, he shoved her hand away from him, and buried his fingers in her slick heat. She gripped him, the muscles in her thighs tightening, her back flexing. “That feels so good,” she hissed. “Please don’t stop.”

“Baby, I don’t intend to stop.” He parted her folds with his thumb and began to stroke her, gently at first, then more firmly. His fingers found her G-spot and began to stroke there, as well. She coiled around him, tension building, and began to pant with breathy moans.

He looked at her. Her head was thrown back, her hair a wild tumble down her back. Her lips, still swollen from his kisses, were parted, her eyes closed, lacy lashes dark against her pale face. She was gorgeous in a way she’d never been before, wild and primal, unbound by inhibition or convention. The sight of her transformed by lust and need fed his own desire.

He lowered his head to her breast once more and had no sooner taken her in his mouth again before she exploded beneath him. Her muscles gripped him and she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out as she shook with the force of her climax. He threw both arms around her and held her close, rocking her, stroking her back.

After a while, her breathing slowed, and she eased back against the hammock and looked up at him. “How come sex has never been like this before?” she asked.

She sounded so astonished, he didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. “Maybe you haven’t been with the right guy,” he said.

Her gaze drifted down, to the open front of his shorts, and she smiled. “Now it’s your turn.” She sat up, feet dragging in the sand, and swung the hammock back and forth, bumping against his legs. “This could be interesting.”

He grasped her hips to still her. “I think you need to take your shorts off.”

He expected her to object, to protest she couldn’t get naked when they were practically in public, but eyes locked to his, she stripped the shorts off in one movement and dropped them in the sand. “Your turn,” she repeated.

He discarded shorts and briefs, though he felt a little silly with the breeze blowing across his naked butt. Anyone walking by would have no doubt about what was going on in the shadows when they spotted his pale cheeks glowing in the moonlight.

She reached around and cupped his bottom. “You have a very nice butt. I’ve noticed it before. Especially when you wear your motorcycle leathers.”

“Oh, so you’ve been lusting after me before now?” The thought pleased him.

“I may be a little repressed, but I’m not dead.”

“I don’t think you’re all that repressed, either.” He leaned forward, nudging the tip of his penis against her opening. He was anxious to be in her now.

She smiled up at him. “I guess I’m not, am I?” She pushed back with one foot, swinging out of his reach, then poised there, leaning toward him. “Something’s missing here.”

“Do you mean a condom? I’ve got one in my pocket.” He started to reach down for his shorts, but she stopped him, one hand wrapped around his cock.

“I was thinking we needed a little more…lubrication.” With that, she bent and took him into her mouth. He let out a low groan and clutched her shoulders as her lips and tongue wrapped around him. She licked and suckled, her touch light, then stronger, keeping him teetering on the edge. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into her. Should he hold back, or let himself go?

She raised her head and through his glazed vision, he was aware of her smiling at him. “I think we’re ready for that condom now.”

She took the packet from his stiffened fingers and opened it. He almost lost it when she rolled the rubber on him, but somehow maintained control. Then she lay back and wrapped her thighs around him. “Let’s see how this hammock works.”

Sinking into her was sheer heaven. She tightened around him, hot and wet, and he thrust forward, rocking the hammock. With little effort, they fell into a steady rhythm of thrust and sway, a tantalizing dance in time to the music which throbbed overhead. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to sensation: the pulsing music, the smell of sand and saltwater and sex, the exquisite sensation of Glynna clenching him, holding and releasing him, desire building, as he thrust faster, deeper…