The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) (20 page)

She narrowed her gaze. “I’ve seen you looking at reports on your laptop.”

“I’m weaning myself off them, okay?”

“And no more dragging the garbage cans up to the street,” Sara declared.

“Let’s argue about that later. What I want to know now is why Essie came to you after she explicitly promised—”

Sara placed her hand over his mouth. “Don’t be mad at her. She broke that promise for the same reason I broke mine to her. We…” Her voice trailed off.

Joaquin caught her hand and drew it from his lips. “We what?”

She looked away, then back to his face. “We needed reassurance. We both might be feeling a little…fond of you.”

He smiled and brought the hand he held to his mouth and placed a kiss there. “I told her. I’m telling you. It’s not a dire circumstance. I was advised to take time for a little R and R, and that’s just what I’m doing.”

“You’re certain?” Her pulse wouldn’t settle even when he was saying all the right things to put her at ease. It continued to hammer, the blood racing just under her skin so she felt hot and unsteady on her feet.

He squeezed her fingers, kissed them again. “How can I prove to you I’m hale and hearty?”

Without planning, her gaze dropped to his mouth, then she jerked it back to his eyes. But he’d seen the little tell, she could feel it in the new, sudden tautness of his body.

“Sara…” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You know I’d be happy to get naked and demonstrate I’m in tip-top condition, doll.”

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t re-establish her defenses that had been shattered by her concern about him. All that registered was the heat and strength of him, the solid wall of man that smelled clean and of her Joaquin.

Her Joaquin.

A quick step back to escape that reckless thought, and she stumbled over her own feet to land on her knees, which put her directly in line with the evidence that he was as hale and hearty as he’d said. Aroused and ready.

She shivered, heat chasing chills as lust made her ache—her breasts, between her legs, along the back of her thighs.

“Sara.”

He reached for her, but she was quicker, her hand daring to cup the bulge of his sex over the denim of his jeans. It seemed to pulse in her palm, stiffening at her touch so it must hurt too, and she squeezed a little, enough to make him groan.

“God, Sara.”

Tipping forward, she held his thighs and pressed her nose to the placket, breathing in laundry soap and a subtle hint of sex. She exhaled heat back out, then rubbed her cheek against the swelling, like a cat marking her territory.

She’d never done anything so explicit before…never wanted to. But want seemed to liberate her from any inhibitions, and she reveled in her shameless need.

His hand stroked the back of her hair, then he tangled his fingers in it. She glanced up, noting the hot glitter in the pale gray-blue of his eyes. A shiver rolled down her back, his wolfish gaze making her feel small and edible.

But she was going to get the first taste.

The button on the fly popped open without a sound. But the teeth of his zipper almost growled as they parted from each other, the sound a lusty promise. Sara’s hands started to shake as she pushed down fabric and found him beneath his briefs. In her palm, his shaft was heavy and hot, and as she watched a bead of moisture formed on the slit. Lifting her gaze to his again, she stuck out her tongue to lap it away.

The hand in her hair fisted and he groaned again.

He was big, rigid, and the jut of his sex so aggressive that it made a tiny thrill of fear course through her veins. Sara didn’t know if her mouth would fit around him or how much of him she could take inside of it, but she had to try. She was starved for him.

She tongued the ruddy, swollen crown, making it slick with saliva. Then she opened her lips and let the wet head slide over her tongue.

They both moaned.

Rubbing her tongue along the shaft, she gave him more, breathing in his scent as she licked, then sucked. His thighs went rock hard beneath her hands, and she dug in with her fingernails as she drew him as far back in her throat as she dared. Held there.

She looked up to see his gaze trained on her face. Turned-on, Joaquin stared at her with an almost feral intent, his cheekbones sharper and the cords in his neck standing out. Sara breathed through her nose but didn’t move except to reach for his balls. She fondled their soft weight.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.

She drew back to lap across his slit, but then slid down again, sucking in time with his rough breaths. Sara didn’t believe she was breathing at all, because she was mesmerized by the growing tension in his muscles. He was getting close.

Then he tore his hand from her hair and stepped back, his length leaving her mouth.

“Hey—” she began to protest, but the rest was lost in a gasp as he hauled her to her feet and practically threw her onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, practically ripping his shirt from his body. “Get naked for me now.”

Every fantasy she’d had about him flashed through her mind.
You must obey the master.
Not Emmaline’s voice, this time, but her own. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the hem of her pull-on shirt.

Not fast enough for Joaquin. He was there, now naked himself, and he jerked the fabric over her head then attacked the clasp of her bra. Without taking time to give attention to what he’d bared, he went for the fastening on her pants and drew them and her panties down her legs, her flip flops springing free at the same time.

Then he crawled over her, his knees on either side of her hips, his eyes burning trails over her sensitive flesh as he surveyed her nakedness. She took in his as well, the wide shoulders, the pumped pectorals, and the rippling abs. He exuded masculine energy, and her blood ran hot in response.

One of his hands crawled up her belly to her breast and he cupped it, weighed it, rubbed his thumb in an unhurried manner over the nipple. She shivered, biting her lip to keep from begging.

“I’m going to get you so wet,” he said, in an almost idle tone that ratcheted up her desire. “And then I’m going to swallow all that sweet cream down. The best kind of dessert.”

She was shaking in need now, both scandalized and stirred up by the stark words in the lazy tone of seductive promise.

“How many times have you come in a row before, doll?”

Her gaze jumped from his caressing hand to his face. “Um…one?”

His smile spread slow and wide. “I think we can do better than that.” Then he leaned down to take her nipple into his mouth and nipped her there.

She yelped, even as fire burst over her skin. He chuckled against the soft side of her breast, nuzzling a moment before giving her another tiny bite. Her hips jerked high, and she felt moisture gush between her thighs.

I’m going to get you so wet.

He moved his hot mouth to the other breast, biting and sucking, and then coasted his lips down her torso to tease her belly button. She moaned as he dabbed his tongue into the tiny whorl. How could he make even a navel erogenous?

Then his heavy muscled shoulders made a place for themselves between her thighs. She felt vulnerable, stretched so wide, and even more so when he used his thumbs to open her there. His breath on her intimate flesh made her lose her own and her hand went to his hair, whether to push him away or pull him closer, she didn’t know.

But Joaquin knew what he wanted.

“So wet,” he said, glancing up, satisfaction on his face. “And I’ve not even tasted you there yet.”

At the words, Sara’s nipples tightened to even harder points and she felt a spasm in her womb. She was mad for him, mad to have him touch her, taste her, anything and everything.

“Do you want my mouth, Sara?” he asked, thumbs tenderly stroking her inner lips. “Because I’m desperate to eat you right up.”

She felt frantic, held open yet not possessed by him. Her heart slammed against her ribs with every rapid beat, and she moaned his name as her fingers tightened in his hair. Then he pursed his lips and kissed her clit, the peck a brief tease.

As she moaned again, he laughed, the sound wicked and knowing. “Tell me you want my mouth, Sara.”

Could she even speak? She swallowed, her throat dry, but the delicious taste of him still on her tongue. It gave her courage. “I want…”
Everything. Your mouth, your cock, the whole of you near to me for the rest of my life.
She closed her eyes tight against the truth of that. “I want your mouth.”

And then he gave it to her. Short laps and long drags of his tongue. His lips pressed to hers like other kinds of kisses. Then he ate at her soft flesh with a playful growl, and she spread her legs wider of her own volition, offering herself as the feast.

“Hold back your knees,” he said, the words vibrating against her flesh.

The move tilted her hips, and she might have been mortified by the blatant pose if he hadn’t then speared his tongue, piercing her channel while making wet, hungry sounds of pleasure.

Lust made her dizzy and need made her cry out. “Joaquin,” she said. “Please.”

One hand crawled to her breast. He tweaked the nipple as his mouth moved toward her clit. Her entire body was strung tight, and when he worked the sensitive bud with his lips and tongue it only took seconds to send her spinning away into orgasm on another wild cry.

When she came back to herself, he was at her side, kissing her neck. He smelled like himself and like her, and it was wonderful, right, the two of them together. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened them to take in his gaze, the look on his face that of a starving man.

She smiled.

“That was one,” he said.

Tingling all over at the promise of more, she brushed his hair from his forehead and opened her mouth at the same time as he.

“I bought condoms,” they said together.

Chapter 11

Joaquin sat at the breakfast table set up on the sunny deck, sated in more ways than one. On his right, Essie frowned at her phone, but even that sign of unrest didn’t dampen his mood. On his left, Sara dabbed at her rosebud mouth with a napkin then cast a glance at his half-empty coffee cup. When she started to rise from her seat, he pressed on her shoulder and stood himself.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and strolled into the kitchen to retrieve the carafe.

She watched him walk. He could feel those incredible big blues on him, and he turned his head, catching her staring at his ass.

Her gaze jumped to his face, her eyes rounding.

He didn’t bother disguising his smirk.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know she’d enjoyed herself the night before…enjoyed him. The feeling had gone both ways, of course. Under the starchy butler’s cool reserve was a hot wench who ignited him like a torch. His skin twitched at the thought. The tip of his cock was a little sore today, if he told the truth, the force of his ejaculations just that strong.

A very pleasing kind of hurt, though.

Crossing back to Sara, he topped off her coffee.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He ran a surreptitious finger along the nape of her neck in a light caress and watched her eyes close as her body gave a small, involuntary shiver.

He smiled full-on as he warmed up his own beverage. “Enjoyed the meal, doll,” he said, returning to his seat.

“Egg white omelet with leafy green vegetables,” she replied, prim. “Lots of kale.”

He winced. “I could have done without you spelling that out, you know.”

It was her turn to bestow on him a cheeky grin. “And whole grain toast.”

Picking up a leftover wedge from the napkin-lined basket, he slathered the still-warm piece with strawberry jam from a small pot, his gaze holding hers. Then he stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

“With sugar-free preserves.”

Slumping in his chair, he scowled at her. “No sugar? Oh, come on.”

“All right.” Sara laughed. “I’m kidding.”

He liked her laughing. He liked her saucy attitude. Most of all he liked sharing a bed with her. They’d slept together after using a couple of the condom packets, and he’d woken up refreshed…though unfortunately alone.

The butler already about her duties.

He turned his attention westward. More people enjoyed the beach today than he’d seen previously. A couple of sunbathers. More than a few walkers who scattered the needle-nosed shorebirds playing in the surf. The sun dropped pieces of gold onto the ocean’s surface, and his gaze followed the water until reaching the smudged line where Pacific met sky.

His sense of well-being grew. The doctor who’d berated him for running himself down would see that Joaquin was a changed man. His assistant Patrick would finally be forced to shut his trap and swallow down the dire warnings he’d been known to dish out. In another couple of weeks when Joaquin returned to his downtown L.A. headquarters, he’d stick to normal hours and think about that hobby he’d promised Essie to establish.

I wonder what it takes to grow kale?

But between now and heading back to work there was, of course, the fifteenth anniversary of Felipe’s death to get through. Now, though, Joaquin wasn’t going to anticipate that event or let thoughts of it overshadow this glorious day.

No over-thinking the Sara situation either, he decided, sliding a glance at the butler. She stared out at the water, her expression serene, her reaction to how they’d scorched the sheets hidden behind it. On Joaquin’s end, he felt there was no point in second-guessing what they’d done.

The desire had been blatantly mutual—they’d both bought condoms!—and the usual concern over giving a woman the wrong impression didn’t apply. Early in their acquaintance they’d agreed on their distrust of love. Neither of them was into expecting promises or cementing attachments.

Once he went to work other interests would naturally take precedence. Even before that, their thing might burn out… He sent her a sharper glance.

Maybe in her mind it already had?

The idea put a bad taste in his mouth, so he pushed it away and picked up his coffee cup. Stretching his legs and crossing one ankle over the other, he focused on the perfect weather and the pleasant company while blocking out the unhappy past and the uncertain future.