Sex Drive (21 page)

My breath caught as his mouth closed on my nipple, sucking it in. Sensation zinged through me, all the way to my sex, and my clit throbbed. He was less gentle than he’d been before—perhaps because he had trouble keeping steady in the moving water. Firm suction, the rough brush of his tongue, then—oh, my—a quick nip that resonated directly in my clit.

I was so close to the edge, if he’d done it again I might have come. But instead he let go and a moment later surfaced, gasping for air. “God, you taste good underwater.”

His words brought an image to mind instantly. Of his body naked under the inky surface of the ocean. His erect cock, bold yet vulnerable.

Without a word, I sucked in air and shut my eyes, then ducked, hands tracing the sides of his body as I sank to kneel on the sand bottom. One hand on the outside of his thigh to steady myself, I found his erection with my other hand. Curling my fingers around it, I guided it to my mouth and took him in. His flesh seemed cool at first, then almost instantaneously became hot.

Eyes closed, holding my breath, water surrounding my face, the sensations were disconcerting, but I didn’t panic because Damien anchored me. His pulsing heat filled my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock and he thrust in response. My pussy clenched in a spasm of pure need, of longing for him to plunge into it.

Air running out, I let go and quickly surfaced, water streaming down my face and into my mouth as I opened it, gasping. “I need—”

“This,” he interrupted. And again he disappeared below the surface.

He found my sex, hands clumsy for a second as he got his bearings. I spread my legs wider. Two fingers thrust inside me, his mouth closed on my clit, and all the urgency and need came together and I rocketed into orgasm.

When he came up for air, I clutched him, body still shaking, legs like jelly, and somehow managed to say, “Yes, that was exactly what I needed.”

He laughed softly. “Thank God you’re quick.”

I curled my hand around his cock. “I don’t think I can hold my breath long enough to…” For the life of me, I couldn’t say, “give you a blow job.” Pumping my fingers up and down his shaft, I went on. “But we could do it this way. Though I really wish…” This, I could say. “I’d really like to feel you inside me.”

“I have a condom in my shorts pocket. There isn’t a soul on the beach.”

“Oh God.” Sex on the beach. Waikiki Beach. Perhaps the most popular tourist beach in the world. The idea terrified me. And excited me beyond all reason. “We’d have to be quick.”

His cock jerked in my hand. “Sure as hell won’t be a problem for me.”

I stood on tiptoe, steadying myself with one hand on his shoulder, and under the water guided the tip of his cock to my sex, brushing flesh that was swollen and tingling from climax. Feeling my body respond with an “oh yes, I remember this penis; it makes me feel very, very good, and I want more” reaction. “Don’t think it’ll be a problem for me either.”

“Then let’s go before I explode right here.”

I released him and he caught my hand in his, pulling me toward shore.

My breasts emerged from the water, skin goosebumping. Anxiously I scanned the beach, not seeing a soul. Nor could I see our clothes. The water got more and more shallow, clearing my stomach, my groin. How strangely exhilarating to come out of the water naked, on a moonlit beach. The experience had a primitive, highly erotic quality.

Not that I wanted to walk into the hotel like this. Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to. Damien had better night vision than I. He led us unerringly to the towel and pile of clothes.

He grabbed up his shorts, extracted a condom package, and spread the towel. I stood there, shivering from nerves as well as the brush of night air on my wet skin. Then he caught me up in a tight embrace. His firm, hot body was a good remedy for nerves, as persuasive an argument as any he might make verbally.

When he kissed me hungrily, I whimpered, “Hurry, Damien. I want you now.”

In a matter of seconds, we were on the towel, his body covering mine, his sheathed erection prodding urgently as I raised my legs to invite him in. He didn’t ease into me this time, but plunged deep in one quick surge that filled me and made me gasp with shocked pleasure.

Our bodies were wet, slippery, as we moved together to a fierce primal rhythm. Not kissing, not speaking, just pounding and slapping together, driven by the need to join—to merge and break apart together all at the same time.

Over his shoulder, the moon and stars gazed down on us, so serene and distant compared to our frenzy. Damien’s face was shadowed, which could have made him seem like a stranger, but the fire between us was anything but anonymous. No other man could have called forth this response from me. This crescendo of sensation, arousal, primitive need.

He felt it, too, I knew from his labored breathing, the frenzied jerk of his hips.

“Damien,” I gasped, as the spiral peaked, then shattered into a climax so forceful I couldn’t stifle my cry. A climax that was mirrored by his own pounding release.

After, our bodies still surged together in a rocking motion that gradually slowed, and I became aware of the soft rushing sound of waves lapping the beach. His face was buried in the curve of my neck and shoulder, his chest warmed mine. Everything felt right, natural. Perfect.

Then I came to my senses. “We should get dressed before someone comes.”

Lazily he pulled himself off me. “If you insist.” He stood, unself-conscious in his nakedness, and stretched. The sight of him in the moonlight took my breath away all over again, and I would have liked to simply lie there and stare. Instead I groped around for my underwear and struggled into it, then rose and slipped my arms through the armholes of my dress. I started on that long row of buttons as Damien pulled on his shorts.

The air felt cool now, on skin that had only minutes before been burning. I shivered and wrapped the filmy shawl tight around me.

“Cold? You can have my shirt.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” I told the truth, though a girly part of me loved the idea of snuggling into the shirt he’d been wearing all evening.

He slung the shirt on, not bothering to button it, and gave me a quick hug. “What a perfect way to finish off a fantastic day.”

“Yes.”

As we began to walk back to the hotel, arms around each other, I felt a sense of letdown. The day—our special day—was over. Tomorrow we’d fly to Vancouver and then…Who knew? Maybe nothing. Maybe something, if he did ask for help with his next book. Might we turn into friends? Friends
with
benefits, or without? Now that he’d awakened my long-dormant sex drive, how would I ever be satisfied with a vibrator?

“Australia has terrific beaches, too,” Damien said.

“Mmm.” From now on, beaches would remind me of him and Waikiki. Which wasn’t a bad thing. He’d given me more fun, better sex, a higher opinion of my own femininity and sexuality, than anyone else had ever done. I’d even noticed men watching me, and a rather cute one had tried to pick me up in the bookstore coffee shop. This new confidence was something I’d take away with me, and thank Damien for. In fact, if I wanted sex, I was sure I’d find a man who would provide it.

But he wouldn’t be Damien.

Damn it, it was silly to feel sad at the idea of saying good-bye. Silly to let myself care for a man who was so different from me. And yet, Damien was special. He wasn’t like Jeffrey—not a man who used me, but one who gave so much to me.

His arm tensed slightly around my shoulders and there was a hint of hesitation in his voice when he said, “Maybe one night we’ll go check out Bondi Beach.”

“Check out…” Bondi Beach was a long strip of sandy beach close to Sydney. Was he saying…? “You and me? Go to the beach together?”

“Uh, yeah.” Again, the hesitation. As if he wasn’t sure he really wanted to? Maybe he was just being polite. But then he went on. “I mean, if you want to. I know you’re busy with work. And I guess you’re used to associating with people who are a little more, uh, intellectual than me, but…we’ve had fun, right?”

Oh, my gosh. He wanted a relationship. And he actually sounded insecure. This man who was, in so many ways, out of my league wasn’t sure if I’d want to hang out with him. Whereas I couldn’t think of a thing I’d enjoy more. Trying not to act too much like a schoolgirl crushing on the football hero, I tilted my head up to smile at him. “A lot of fun. You’re great company, Damien.”

He squeezed my shoulders, looking relieved. “So that’s a yes?”

“Well, I’m not sure about sex on Bondi Beach,” I teased, “but definitely yes to getting together when we’re back in Sydney.”

A big grin split his face. “I was gonna ask you at dinner, when you offered to help me with my books. Then you went all
administrative
on me, and I figured some moonlight might get you in the right mood.”

I grinned back.
My God, I might actually have found myself a boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend, the one all the girls wanted!
“Mmm, I guess it was the moonlight that did the trick,” I said, doing my best to sound like a rational adult, not a giddy teenager. “Couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with
you
.”

He pulled me close as we finished the walk to our hotel.

By the time we got to our room, we were stumbling from an accumulation of jet lag, exhaustion, and great sex. We must have looked like a pair of drunks. We managed a sketchy shower, then collapsed into bed, sleepy bodies tangled together, and tumbled into sleep.

I was wrapped in Damien’s arms when my eyes fluttered open to wince at the brightness of the sun. We’d forgotten to pull the blinds. Nor had we opened the lanai door, and the room was stuffy. I lay quietly for a few minutes, watching him sleep. Thick, dark lashes fanned out above strong cheekbones—the same combination of gentleness and strength that characterized Damien himself.

I was wide awake and needed to pee, so I slid out of bed. After freshening up in the bathroom, I grabbed his black shirt to cover my nakedness and threw open the lanai door. The flower-scented air drew me outside and I stood, breathing it in. What a perfect morning. Maybe we could go for a jog on the beach.

When I stepped back into the room, I saw he’d rolled away from the light. I doubted he’d object if I woke him by stripping and crawling between the sheets, but on the other hand, this was a good opportunity to check e-mail.

First I dealt with a few messages from work, glad to find that my secretary was handling my sudden departure with her usual competence. Then I opened a message from my mom.

Yes, tents were on my contingency plan. “Where on earth do you rent tents?”

I sent a quick e-mail back saying, Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Next I skimmed a message from Merilee, which she’d cc’d to Kat, saying she and Matt had done their first draft of a guest list. And then there was a message from Kat to Merilee, with cc’s to me and Jenna. The subject line read:

Merilee had responded with:

I felt a twinge of jealousy. I was the one who’d taken on organizing the whole project. “Shouldn’t I be the best?” I muttered. Then, “God, how shallow.”

They really were. Cute and young and very Merilee-and-Matt.

I clicked
REPLY ALL
.

No message from Jenna. “Big surprise.”

“Morning, Tezzie,” a lazy male voice, tinged with humor, said.