The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1) (10 page)

Erin directed Brock to go out onto the deck while she collected another glass from the kitchen, so he wandered across the room and through the open sliding doors, taking the bottle with him.

In spite of the warm weather that day, the breeze from the sea was cool enough to make him shiver, although that could also have been due to the situation, he thought as he closed his eyes and breathed in the warm and fragrant summer air. He’d been on the verge of turning around and going back to his room, certain that if he knocked on Erin’s door she’d either give him an outright no, look exasperated as if he’d confirmed her worst fear that he’d had ulterior motives, or sigh and let him in with the air of not having any alternative. Instead, she’d clearly been about to call on him, and her face had lit with pleasure.

His skin tingled at the notion of where the evening was heading. He’d fought with himself for a while, staring at the bottle of whisky he’d bought earlier as the devil on his shoulder argued with the angel on the other side. He’d kissed her already, the devil had argued—that was the difficult bit, the moment where he’d crossed the final boundary from grief into moving on with his life. The symbolism was important, not the actual act, and the next step of taking things further wasn’t important at all in the big scheme of things.

But of course it was, and the angel knew that perfectly well. Kissing a woman was one thing—taking off his clothes and making love to her was most definitely another. If he went home now, he could convince himself that he hadn’t been unfaithful—that he’d dipped his toe in the water but had managed to fight the urge to dive in, and he knew he’d be able to forgive himself for the brief transgression. If he went further, though, if he went to bed with Erin, he’d be accepting that Fleur had gone and that part of his life was done, and it made him immeasurably sad.

Brock knew he was only human, but all his life he’d fought to be more than the sum of his parts. He didn’t want to be one of those guys who used animal passion as an excuse for not being a gentleman. In another lifetime, he would have entered a monastery and taken vows, determined he’d never sully his memory of Fleur by bedding another woman.

But this wasn’t medieval England, and when it came down to it, he was young and healthy, and he liked sex. A lot. He missed it—the heat, the excitement, the intense physical release that just wasn’t the same when he achieved it on his own, as well as the joy of giving someone else pleasure. But it was more than that, too. Erin wasn’t just convenient—the first port in a storm. He met a lot of women in his job, and he could have dated any number of times, but he’d not even come close to being interested until he’d met Erin. He liked her. She made him laugh, and they got on well, which was no small thing.

Plus she was hot. He wanted to kiss her again, and he wanted to make love to her, and he even though his brain wanted him to have idealistic tendencies, he was tired of fighting that basic need.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Erin joined him on the deck and looked up at the stars. “The Milky Way is so clear here.”

“Hardly any light pollution,” he agreed, trying to think about something else other than taking off her clothes and crushing his lips to hers.

She put the other glass next to the one she’d already brought out along with a small bowl of ice, then popped a few cubes in each glass. Brock unwrapped the seal from the whisky, took out the cork, and poured the amber liquid over the ice.

Erin sipped it and shuddered. “Wow. I can feel that going all the way down.”

He inhaled the peaty, medicinal smell then took a big swallow, feeling a similar burn down to his stomach. “Aah. That’s nice.”

Leaning over the tub, she tested the water with her hand and giggled. “It’s hot. You want to get in?”

He suddenly remembered he was still wearing his jeans and shirt. “Ah, I didn’t bring any swim shorts.”

“You’re wearing boxers or something though, right? Or are you going commando?”

He gave her a wry look. “No, I’ve got boxers on.”

“They’ll do. Come on, kit off.” Grinning, she tugged the belt of her robe open and let it fall off her shoulders onto the floor.

Brock’s eyes widened at the sight of the red bikini barely covering her generous breasts and other more interesting areas. She had a womanly, curvy figure, and it sent bells ringing right through him. “Wow.”

Laughing, she sat on the side and swung her legs in, then lowered herself down into the bubbling water. “Ooh, that’s nice.”

One hand on his hip, he had another mouthful of the whisky and pursed his lips as she winked at him.

“Come on,” she said. “Don’t be shy.”

“Erin, what you’ve just done, you know how unfair that is, right?”

“What?”

“You’ve stripped off to almost nothing and now you’re expecting me to do the same while you watch.”

“So? It is my birthday.”

“Do you remember what happened in the car? And you were fully clothed then.”

Her lips gradually curved up as she realized what he was getting at. He could almost see her fighting against lowering her gaze to his jeans.

She sipped her whisky. “I’m definitely going to watch you now. In fact, because it’s my birthday, I expect you to strip to the music.” She leaned back on the tub, one arm stretched out, and raised her eyebrows. Her gaze held more than a little heat.

He sighed. “Yeah. I walked into that one.” Putting down his glass, he took out his wallet and phone and put them on the table. Then he began to unbutton his shirt, taking it slow, moving a little to Wham’s
Last Christmas
as he did so.

Her eyes widened so fast it was almost comical—clearly she hadn’t expected him to agree to her demand. “Nobody is ever going to believe how I spent my twenty-eighth birthday.”

“If I see any sign of a phone taking photos, I’m outta here.” He held her gaze while he popped another button, more than aware he was turning them both on by undressing.

She laughed, but her expression softened as he continued to undo the buttons. He raised an eyebrow when he reached the bottom of the shirt, and he started to peel it off, then turned his back on her before he let it slowly slip from his shoulders.

She gave a long, contented sigh, and he chuckled and turned to face her, working on his belt.

Her eyes were full of flattering admiration, which only intensified when he finished with the belt. Abandoning any pretense of looking anywhere except at his crotch, she held her breath as he unzipped his trousers.

Brock decided it was pointless to be coy and pretend he wasn’t turned on by the notion of slipping into a hot bath with a sexy blonde, and he slid the zip down and pushed the trousers over his hips to the floor. Erin inhaled deeply, and her gaze came up to his, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.

He picked up his clothes and put them over a nearby chair, sat on the side of the hot tub, and lowered himself in. Leaning back with a sigh, he met her gaze and raised an eyebrow.

She started to giggle, and he joined in and laughed, then took another swallow of his whisky.

“This takes some beating,” he said. “Sitting in a spa with a gorgeous girl looking out at that view.” Night had descended on the Bay of Islands, and the Pacific was a deep shade of blue, the night sky sparkling with silver stars that only added to the Christmassy atmosphere.

“Mmm,” she said, looking at him.

“I was talking about the stars.”

“Those too.” She smiled.

He laughed and swirled his legs in the water. It was a big tub, easily large enough for four people, and Erin sat on the ledge a foot to his left so they were both looking out to sea. Beneath the water, his feet touched hers. He thought about apologizing, then decided that was stupid considering they were both sitting there nearly naked.

Leaning across, she picked up a hair clip from the side, twisted her blonde hair, and pinned it up, letting a few tendrils fall around her face.

He tipped his head, watching her. “I love the way women do that. So sexy. I guess it’s because it’s not something guys do, in general.”

“Yeah, like watching a man put on cufflinks.” She chuckled and pushed his foot playfully beneath the water. “I’m glad you were there when I opened the door.”

“So am I.” He looked into his glass for a moment, swirling the whisky over the ice. “Erin, I meant what I said about not expecting anything in return—”

She reached out and touched two fingers to his lips, halting his words. “I know. Come on, we’re both grown-ups. It’s stupid to pretend we don’t know what’s going on. We’re attracted to each other, that much is obvious.”

He rolled his eyes, assuming she was referring to the erection that had nearly speared its way through his boxers. She laughed and said, “That’s not what I meant, but yeah. I know you like me, and I like you. A lot.”

To his surprise, she shifted in the tub, moving next to him on the seat so their arms touched. The water came to halfway up her chest, and in spite of the bubbles he could clearly see the curve of her breasts in the red bikini top. He swallowed and tried to focus on her face. It wasn’t difficult—her soft mouth promised enough delights to hold his attention.

“The nice thing about being an adult,” she said, “is not having to beat around the bush. We’re old enough that we can be frank, aren’t we? It’s been a long time since I dated, but I would make it quite clear if I wasn’t interested in you. I wouldn’t have come away with you at all if I didn’t have a little hope that dinner and a walk on the beach might develop into something more. But obviously you’ve been grieving for a long time. I know you feel reluctant about moving on, and of course I don’t want to force you to do anything you’re going to regret later on.”

She moistened her lips, her gaze dropping to his mouth. She was thinking about kissing him. He almost groaned out loud. There was no way his erection was going away anytime soon.

She continued, “So if we have a drink and that’s… um… all you want to do, that’s okay, I mean, I understand if you’d rather…” Her voice trailed off as she looked into his eyes.

“Erin,” he said slowly, as if he was talking to a child, “I’m sitting in a hot tub with a hard-on I could use as a battering ram to break down a medieval castle if I wanted. You really think I’m not interested?”

She tried not to laugh. “Well you are a guy, and I know sometimes your brain—or rather your body—and your heart want different things.”

“My heart knows perfectly well what it wants,” he said, only realizing when he said it that it was the truth. “It wants you, honey, there are no two ways about it. You’re right in that I haven’t been with anyone since Fleur died, and it feels odd to be moving on again, but there’s no question in my mind that I’m ready. I want you. I want to kiss you, I want to strip that gorgeous scrap of material off you, and I want to make love to you. And if that’s not what you want, you ought to make it clear right now. Because in five seconds I’m going to kiss you, and once I start, I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to stop.”

Erin inhaled sharply. Brock’s words had taken her by surprise. She’d been so certain he was fighting with himself as to whether this was right for him that his complete and utter certainty shocked her to the core. He spoke with lazy sincerity, and now, as he swallowed the last mouthful of whisky, replaced his glass on the side of the tub, and turned his hot gaze back to her, she had no doubt he meant every word. He wanted her, and providing she gave the go-ahead, the direction they were heading was as clear as the night sky above their heads.

She finished off the last mouthful of the liquid in her own glass, feeling the need for some Dutch courage, and placed her tumbler next to his. Her hand shook a little, although she wasn’t sure if he’d seen it. He’d stretched out his arm along the edge of the tub so it was almost around her, but not yet touching, as if in spite of his confident statement he was still uncertain what her reaction would be.

Did he really have no idea how hot she was for him at that moment? His sexy strip, the obvious—and generous—erection he hadn’t bothered to hide, the heat in his eyes, his provocative words… They’d all combined to cut through any willpower that might have remained like a laser through butter.

Excited, aroused, and extremely flattered all at the same time, she threw caution to the summer breeze and pushed herself up. After moving in the water to sit astride him, she knelt on the ledge on either side of his hips.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her until she’d settled herself comfortably and linked her hands behind his neck. The water kept her afloat enough that she didn’t have to worry about squishing him, although at that moment she had the feeling he wouldn’t have minded being squished.

“Hello,” she said, loving the way the water turned his tanned skin shiny like polished mahogany. Her fingers itched to touch him, so she did, running them up the muscles of his upper arms, across his broad shoulders, and down over the defined muscles of his chest. Nice.

“Hello.” He met her gaze and smiled. She smiled back, knowing that now they’d made the decision to take this final step, there was no rush, and once again she was back to admiring the wrapped gift in front of the Christmas tree, and prolonging the excitement by trying to guess what was inside.

He rested his hands on her waist, then slid them around to her back, trailing lightly over her skin the same way she’d just done to him. She shivered, and he smirked, clearly aware of how he was affecting her, and enjoying this forgotten power, this ability to tantalize and tease with the promise of sensual delights to come.

Two could play at that sexy game. Sliding her fingers into his short hair, she tipped her head to the left and bent to touch her lips to his. As he moved the last fraction of an inch to meet her, she moved back, denying him the kiss, tipped her head to the right instead, and chuckled at the curve of his lips before she finally gave in and closed the distance between them.

It was blissful to finally kiss him properly, without worrying who was watching, and what he might think, and whether she was doing the right thing. Instead, she concentrated on the firm warmth of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue against hers, the heady taste of the whisky, the silkiness of his short hair in her fingers, and the swirl of the water around her, teasingly warm on her skin.

Brock’s hands slid down her back, into the dip of her waist, over her hips, down her thighs, exploring her curves and just, she suspected, enjoying touching her, being close to her, the same way she felt sheer delight at being in contact with a man after so long. While he continued to kiss her, his hands reached her knees, then slowly returned, sliding up her thighs to her hips, spanning her waist, and eventually reaching her breasts, which he finally cupped in his palms.

Erin sighed as he ran his thumbs over her nipples, and when he lifted his head, he didn’t have to ask—she nodded, and he moved his hands up to the ties behind her neck and pulled them undone.

The ties drifted down into the water, although the material clung to her breasts as if reluctant to let go. He took the ties in his fingers and pulled them down, peeling the triangles off. He watched as they revealed her nipples, the dusky pink circles turning to tight buds from the sensation of both the water and his light touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice husky with passion.

Erin pulled the ties of the bikini behind her back and dropped the top onto the deck beside the tub. She moved a little closer to him on the ledge, feeling his erection pressing against her through the thin fabric of his boxers and her bikini bottoms. He was long and hard, more than ready for her, and she ached to have him inside her, but equally she didn’t want to rush this. They’d both waited a long time to meet the right person to help them take this step, and the last thing she was sure either of them wanted was for it to all be over in a flash.

So she kissed him again, conscious of passion slowly growing between them, their mouths become more demanding, hungry to claim and possess. He stroked her back and breasts, clearly enjoying the lift of them in the water, the easy way his hands glided over her skin. His fingers settled on her nipples, teasing them, tugging gently, and Erin moaned against his mouth. It was no good. She couldn’t wait any longer.

Lifting off him, she slid her bikini bottoms down, stepped out of them, and dropped them over the side of the tub. He removed his boxers and let them fall on top of her wet bikini, and then reached over to pick up his wallet where he’d left it on the table. He took out a condom and tore open the wrapper.

Erin watched, eyes wide, as he stood briefly out of the water to roll the condom on. Damn, that was an impressive erection, thick, hard, and long, exactly what a girl would wish for in her Christmas stocking. Her jaw dropped as he gave himself a couple of strokes, then revealed the tip, placed the condom on the end, and rolled it down carefully. Her mouth watered. She wanted to close the distance between them and slide her lips down that solid length, but before she could move he sank beneath the surface and lay back. His wry smile told her he was aware how much he was turning her on.

Well, this was a first. She hadn’t expected them to go all the way in the tub, but the feel of the hot water on her skin was so sexy she was glad he hadn’t suggested getting out.

She straddled him again, kneeling on the ledge, buoyed by the water, and looked into his eyes. This was it—the final test. Was he truly ready to move on and put the memory of his wife behind him? Erin half-expected him to stop her at the last moment and say he couldn’t do it.

But he didn’t. Instead, he parted her folds with the tip of his erection and then paused, sliding his hands around her body while he kissed her, obviously content to let her proceed at her own pace.

Sinking her hands into his hair, kissing him back, she pushed down, and he slid inside her.

They both gasped, his lips parting under hers. She lifted until he was almost out of her, then lowered herself again, and this time she felt him penetrate all the way up to the top. He wasn’t small, and the sensation of being stretched and filled was so amazing she nearly came on the spot.

Even more amazing, though, was the look in his eyes, full of heat that burned through her the same way the whisky had when she’d swallowed it.

“Jesus,” he whispered, gripping her hips and pushing deep into her. “That feels incredible.”

“I know.” She rocked her hips, thrusting slowly, driving him in and out of her, aroused by the sensation of his hands sliding over her skin, as well as the silky water lapping around her.

He kissed down her neck, cupped her breast, and bent to fasten his mouth on her nipple. Erin closed her eyes and tipped back her head as he teased the tip with his tongue, then sucked. Screw the hotel and dinner—sex with Brock King was turning out to be the perfect gift.

He swapped from one nipple to the other with his mouth until she was groaning with pleasure, the delicious tightening deep inside announcing the gradual approach of an orgasm. “Brock,” she said between gasps, clenching her fingers in his hair.

Tipping back his head, he let her kiss him, sliding his hands down to rest on her hips so he could guide the pace of her thrusts. He slowed her down, encouraging her to move leisurely, obviously with the intention of drawing out their pleasure.

Erin let him, plunging her tongue into his mouth and enjoying his answering low growl. This was the most erotic thing she’d ever done. She’d never had sex in water before, but it was totally at the top of her list now for places to make love. It sloshed around them, keeping her afloat so with each thrust of his hips it took her a fraction of a second longer than normal to come down again, and the surface of the water teased her nipples, making them hypersensitive even when he wasn’t touching them.

He held her tightly, starting to thrust harder, grinding against her clit with each push of his hips. “Oh…” she whispered, closing her eyes and focusing on the exquisite tightening of her internal muscles around him.

“Yes,” he urged her, “fuck, yeah, come for me, Erin.” His fingers dug into her bottom as he slammed into her, and she cried out, clenching around him in a series of blissful pulses that left her gasping and exhausted, only half conscious of the water slopping over the edge of the tub.

He continued to thrust, and she kissed him hard, delving her tongue into his mouth, wanting to pleasure him the way he’d pleasured her. It didn’t take long before he stiffened, his muscles hardening beneath her fingertips, and he gasped, spilling into her with short, sharp jerks of his hips and a fierce frown that made her smile.

Eventually, he relaxed back onto the edge of the tub, looking as bewildered and spent as she felt.

“Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I think I actually blacked out there for a moment.”

She laughed and kissed him. “It was pretty intense.”

He closed his eyes and kissed her back, then slid a wet hand to cup her head, refusing to let her go until she was sighing and limp with happiness.

“Mmm.” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed herself up. “Ready?”

“Hold on.” He slid a hand between them and held the condom while she lifted herself off. Then he stood and disposed of it before sinking back into the water with a contented groan.

Erin went to sit beside him, suddenly shy at the thought of what they’d done, and how easily he’d pleasured her. As she moved past him, however, he caught her arm. “Come here, you.” He turned her in the water so she was facing away from him, then, catching her around the waist, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

Erin snuggled back, enjoying being imprisoned by a pair of muscular arms. He nuzzled her ear, and she tipped her head to the side to give him better access.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, placing kisses on her wet skin.

She sighed. “Mmm. Merry Christmas.”

He chuckled. “Have you had a nice day?”

“It was a perfect gift, thank you.”

“What was?” he teased, nibbling her earlobe.

She splashed him. “Staying here and having dinner. Although the sex was pretty good too.”

“I’m glad you think so. I have to say I thought it was fantastic.”

Her lips curved up. “I’m glad.”

“Do you want another whisky?”

“Ooh yes. A small one.”

Keeping one arm around her so she couldn’t move away, he placed ice cubes in the glasses, held the bottle so she could pull out the cork, and splashed a little liquid over the ice. After replacing the bottle, he gave her a glass and held his to it. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She sipped the whisky and lay back against him, looking up at the stars. “This whole evening is almost perfect, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think there’s any ‘almost’ about it.” He kissed her hair.

“I’m glad.”

They chatted for a while, finishing off their whisky, enjoying the warm water and the balmy night. But eventually Erin knew it was time for the evening to draw to a close.

She held up her hands, showing him her wrinkled fingers. “I’m turning into a prune.”

“Yeah, we’d better get out I suppose.” He sounded as reluctant as she felt.

They rose and stepped out of the tub, and dried themselves off with the big, fluffy towels. Erin’s cheeks warmed as he finished before her and leaned against one of the pillars, watching her. What would happen now? Would he say what a nice night it had been and go back to his room?

“Thanks for a lovely evening.” She finished drying her legs and walked to stand before him, holding the towel to her breasts.

“You’re very welcome.” He looked amused at the way she was covering herself after what they’d done. Unlike her, he didn’t bother to try, and she had to fight not to drop her gaze from his face.

She nibbled her bottom lip, watching him tip the last drops of whisky from his glass into his mouth along with an ice cube. Her body heated at the sight of his naked, muscular form. Jeez, the guy was gorgeous. She was tempted to lean forward and lick the hollow of his throat where he’d missed a bit of moisture, then run her tongue down to his—

She blinked. She had to be careful. After all the fun they’d had, she didn’t want to ruin the evening by assuming this was more than it was—a one-night stand.