The Wedding Fling (10 page)

“You okay?” she finally asked Will.

He turned, sliding his hands into his pockets. That gesture meant something, she was coming to realize, some imitation of casual calm when he was feeling the opposite. How strange that she could know this about him after only a few days’ acquaintance. How strange and pleasurable.

“I’m fine.”

“That means less than nothing in man-language.”

He smiled at that. “You annoy me, Leigh.”

She blinked, the remark knocking her off balance. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I want you to be this one way, and you keep proving yourself to be some other way.”

“What way do you want me to be?”

In the low light leaking from the villa, his smile tightened. “I guess I want you to be what I expected—a bit more spoiled. Or shallow.”

She relaxed. “Sorry. I don’t see why that annoys you, though. Spoiled and shallow sound far more irritating to me.”

“It’s annoying because I like things in my life to be simple. It makes them complicated when people aren’t what you expect.”

Dan’s face sprang immediately to mind.

“It’s annoying because if you weren’t so sweet and charming and weird, I wouldn’t be stuck struggling this hard to not find you attractive.”

She pursed her lips, the comment making her feel floaty, held down only by the drag of the sand at her ankles. “Oh.”

Will stared off to the side, at the dark water. “It’s much easier to play two-dimensional pilot to your two-dimensional tourist.”

“Instead of what? Friends in 3-D?”

He nodded, still not meeting her eyes. There was a struggle being waged inside him, between his dick and his professional conscience, she guessed, or perhaps between his dick and his aversion to complicated women. In either case, his dick seemed likely to be involved, which had Leigh’s hopes up in an instant, along with her pulse.

“Have I inflamed your chivalry gland again?”

A tiny laugh huffed from his nose and Will met her gaze. “Something like that.”

“Could just be a peanut allergy. Which would be tragic. Though it’d leave more for me, I suppose.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath; his eyes studied the water between them. Whatever his conflict was, it must be intense, to render this shameless man so uncertain.

“Are you trying to think up reasons not to make a move on me?” she asked quietly.

“No. I’ve already got a very legitimate reason not to do that.”

“What? Job safety?”

“Just my reasons.”

She frowned. “Have you got a girlfriend?”

“No, of course not.”

“Is it because I’m on the rebound?”

“Not really, no.”

Leigh took a stab at levity. “I hope it’s nothing to do with my hygiene.”

At long last, a smile. “Definitely not.”

“Then can I make a suggestion, Captain Burgess?”

Will nodded. “Sure.”

“Don’t overthink it. As long as you’re single, I don’t mind you making a move on me. I don’t have any expectations of you, except when it comes to getting me to the mainland. Everything else that might happen, it’s just between us.”

“Right.”

“And I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest that, unlike me, you’re not especially good at overanalyzing things. You look pretty constipated.”

He laughed.

“So do me a favor and quit trying to figure me out. I can’t stand being theorized about any more than you could probably stand being...stuck in a traffic jam.”

“Try hospital waiting room.”

“Or that. But whatever we might have, it’d just be a fling, right? Flings aren’t meant to be thought about too deeply. Flings and peanut butter are two of life’s simplest pleasures.” She grinned hopefully at him, though she knew in her heart a so-called fling with Will Burgess wouldn’t be simple. There’d be a fresh, bitter taste of heartbreak when it was over, but it was a price she was willing to pay to explore their connection. A pittance.

“You’re a very decadent woman,” Will murmured, barely audible over the waves. He slid his hands from his pockets and beckoned to her with a curled finger. “Come here.”

As Leigh stepped closer, he stepped back. A pace for a pace, and by the time she reached him the water was at his hips, her navel. Strong hands, assured once more, cupped her shoulders, spreading warmth through her entire body.

“Whatever this is,” he said, “it has nothing to do with anything else we might be to each other, right?”

Her heart tightened a little at the caveat, but that was okay. She had a crush on him, so it was only natural to feel a little twinge. It would fade soon enough. “I know the score. This is whatever it is.”

Will nodded, his expression softening. He kneaded her shoulders, lips parting. So strange that he could take her up into the sky without a moment’s hesitation, yet this kiss gave him such obvious pause. Leigh angled her face and he took the hint, lowering his mouth to hers. The water was cool around her legs, Will’s lips hot against hers. Everything about him felt like this place; leisure in the soft scrape of his stubble, luxury in the easy way his mouth took hers. He’d seemed like a man who’d kiss the way he spoke—bluntly and without caution—but he was far more sensual. His kiss felt new, all the excitement of a teenage fling with none of the sloppy inexperience. Leigh’s first kiss had been staged, a scene from her breakout movie, but if she’d had a real first kiss, this should have been it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered.

His fingertips slid along her collarbone and up her neck, his hands clasped her jaw. She melted, letting him take her mouth deeper. She raked her fingers through his hair and a moan rumbled from his throat, humming through her body.

His hands skimmed all the way down her back to her hips, her thighs. He tugged her up and Leigh wrapped her legs around his waist, their bodies separated by too many wet layers for her liking.

The kissing turned shallow, a distracted sweep on their lips as the action drifted southward. Held in place by his strong hands on her butt, she shifted against him. She felt him as she had the second night, hard behind his fly.

Wrapping her hands around his arms, she imagined his muscles flexing and straining as he braced himself above her in bed. In
her
bed, a mere minute’s walk from here. In her bed back home, this new and thrilling man desanctifying a once-exclusive space. The thought ought to trigger anger or regret, but she felt only lust, hot and simple, tightening her body, tightening her legs around his hips. She didn’t want him for who he wasn’t—not-her-ex—or as a palate cleanser, a rebound. She wanted him for exactly who he was, a notion that put her on edge with danger as much as excitement. She could fall for him, easily. But he need never know. Let him still believe this was about making mistakes.

The hands holding her urged her closer, stroking their bodies together in time with the waves. The ridge of his trapped erection was rubbing her just where she liked, the friction making her hungrier with each motion. His harsh breaths warmed her lips and she imagined other sounds, equally rhythmic and desperate.

Leigh pulled away enough to peel her shirt up her torso and fling it toward the shore for the waves to deliver. She’d put on a bikini while she’d been waiting for him earlier, thinking if he stood her up she’d wallow in the whirlpool. She certainly hadn’t been picturing this, though it was a far nicer use of her swimsuit. He held her against him with a single hand, the other stroking her back, passing over the bow securing her top, one pluck from taking them to the next level.

She felt his hips moving, felt gravity intrude as he walked them to shore. He made it to his knees and lowered her back onto the wet sand, waves lapping her legs. In the far too dim light, she watched Will strip away his shirt, and thank goodness she didn’t have to pretend she wasn’t ogling him for a change. Whatever the many projects were that filled his free time and gave him this body, she approved.

As he lowered himself, she didn’t waste a moment. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she welcomed his weight, the thrilling press of his hard cock despite their damnable clothes. He slid his forearms into the sand beneath her back so their chests brushed, drawing the breath from her lungs just as his mouth claimed hers once more. He thrust his arousal against her, the motion a cruel tease. The need grew maddening, until she finally pushed his shoulder and he shifted to her side.

“Too many clothes,” Leigh said, fumbling with the snap of her shorts.

Will watched as she flung the garment aside. He promptly returned the favor, standing to wrestle off his drenched jeans and kick them away. Beneath were cotton boxer briefs, soaked from the sea, leaving little to Leigh’s capable imagination. Above the waistband, a trail of fine hair blazed a path from his navel, across abs dotted with water from the surf and dusted with sand from the beach.

She wanted him for who he was, beyond a mere rebound or fling. For the way he looked at her now, a man staring at a near-naked woman, Leigh’s celebrity a nonentity, as far from this beach as her old life felt.

She came closer on her knees, enjoying how tall he seemed, standing before her. His gaze followed her hands as they surveyed his calves and thighs, the groove of hard muscle at his hip. A sharp breath rewarded her when she stroked his stomach, and his next words were strained.

“You remember my chivalry gland?”

She met his eyes, palms sliding south to graze his thighs. “I do.”

“It’s fallen out. So don’t count on me to stop you doing anything you might regret.”

She smiled, lowering her gaze to his belly. “The only thing I’d regret tomorrow is holding back tonight.”

She sensed Will nodding, then a thrill trickled down her spine as his palm alighted on her head. He pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Leigh traced the bulge in his shorts with her thumbs, slow and taunting.

A groan was her warning before his fingers closed over hers, drawing them over his shrouded cock, holding it tight.

Wow.
Harder than she’d ever felt a man get, thicker than she’d ever hoped for. Her legs went wobbly as she let him guide her caresses, stroking her palm up and down his length. He’d been many ways with her—galling, kind, brusque, uncertain—but the commanding feel of his hand on hers...this was the only way Leigh wanted him to be from now on.

With her free hand, she toyed with his waistband, easing it low to expose the crease where his thigh met his trunk, and his damp, soft hair. His bossy hand let hers go, and together they drew his briefs down. His cock was warm and smooth against her palm, his smell faint and fascinating. Again, she felt the weight of his palm on her head, cradling. She memorized him with slow strokes, a dozen or more before she put her lips to his flesh.

His moan gave her chills, offset by the fever of his intimate skin. She tasted the sea first, then Will’s own flavor in its wake. She wanted to be amazing for him, to hum and whimper and spoil him with mind-blowing tricks she frankly didn’t possess. But worse than that she wanted to please him, she wanted to be herself, so she did her best and hoped her enthusiasm made up for her lack of technique.

He let her find her pace, then met that rhythm with tiny thrusts. Leigh felt high, from his size in her mouth, his sounds, the heat of his base wrapped in her hand. The fingers in her hair trembled as his stomach clenched, all the cues of his body telling her he’d gone from aroused to crazed. She told him with her actions that she was in this to the end, but with a gentle motion, he drew her hand away and eased himself from between her lips.

His chest rose and fell, then he swallowed deeply before meeting her eyes.

She could feel it coming—an apology, an excuse that would let him leave her here, kneeling in the sand like a fool. But none came, merely a lust-drunk smile as he pulled his briefs back up and crouched before her, taking her hands.

“You got a bed in there?” he asked, nodding to her villa.

“You know I do.”

“Never been slept in?”

She shook her head.

“That’s a terrible waste.”

“Agreed.”

Will grinned. “Let’s give the housekeepers something to gossip about.”

7

T
HEY
DUMPED
THEIR
WET
clothes on a patio chair, and Leigh’s heart sped as she glanced at the bedspread through the sliding glass doors. Everything about this moment felt exotic—the soft pile of the carpet under her bare feet, the scent of the flowers on her dresser. Even the moon was in on it, a perfect circle of white slanting its glow through the huge windows. Will began to slide the door shut, but she stopped him.

“I want to hear the ocean.”

He pushed it back open with a smile. “Want to wash away some of this sand and salt?”

Leigh could have been tarred and feathered and it wouldn’t have slowed her down, but she nodded, leading him to the bathroom.

“Damn.” He scanned the room, the floor-to-ceiling glass cubicle of the slate-tiled shower, the elegantly rustic bowl-style sinks and spotless mirror, the sunken whirlpool tub in the corner. The tub was tempting, candles at the ready, but Leigh didn’t protest when he went to the shower instead—standing or lounging, she’d take him naked and wet in any context he liked. She studied the exquisite flex of his back muscles as he fussed with the taps.

He held out a hand. “Ladies first.”

Leigh kept her bikini on and stepped into the stall. Hot water rinsed the salt and sand from her skin and hair, cool stone soothing her feet. Will joined her, closing the door. They stared at each other, a pause full of appreciation and awe.

He laughed. “Jesus, you’re sexy.”

Leigh grinned. “Thanks.” She scanned his chest and stomach, scarcely daring to believe this man was hers to enjoy for the evening. “And I didn’t invite you in for your conversational charms, so that compliment goes both ways.”

“Cute.” He stepped closer, cupping his broad hands over her hips, eyes feasting.

Leigh’s eyes had already had their fill, however, and her fingers wanted their turn. She grabbed the soap and twirled it around and around until suds dripped from her hands. She started at his throat, slipping to his chest, lingering on his abs. Another gorgeous groan as she stroked lather over his bulge. She was especially thorough at the task, marveling as he grew for her again, the weight and stiffness of his cock in her slick hold promising too many delights to contemplate.

“Here.” Will took the bar from her. He backed her gently against the rough stone wall, casting her in his shadow, as exciting as having his body above hers in the sand.

“How tall are you?”

“My license claims I’m one hundred eight-five centimeters,” Will said officiously.

The conversion was beyond her, but he was six feet, at least—far taller than the average actor or musician in Leigh’s experience, and she added this to the growing list of Will’s superior traits.

“Why?”

“I’m just objectifying you.” She glanced at another exemplary part of his body, hidden by his underwear.

“How’m I doing?”

“You’re fantastic. How am I doing?”

He smiled, hands still busy with the soap, making her impatient. “I told you before, you’re unnaturally attractive. Shall I send a note to your personal trainer?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Must be your dancer genes, then.”

“Must be.” Her mind went fuzzy as he touched her—soapy hands gliding up her arms, lathering the nape of her neck, her collarbone and finally her breasts. As he leaned close, his erection brushed her belly, his mouth settling against her temple. He kneaded and teased, driving her wild until he reached around to untie her suit. As the top slipped from her shoulders, the way his lips parted was the greatest compliment she’d ever received.

She shut her eyes and gave in to this marvelous sensation, of this man worshipping her body. His hands slid lower, lower still, then he was on his knees before her, planting kisses on her belly and hips. Her bikini bottoms had pointless ties on either side, but rather than tug it down, he set the soap aside and took the time to free each knot, her final scrap of modesty falling away and taking her sanity with it. She ground her shoulders against the slate, knowing this was the same soft scrape he felt beneath his knees. His knees—this tall, shameless man, kneeling at her feet. Goddamn.

She raked her fingertips through his wet hair. His hands roamed up and down her thighs, flirting with her curls but still making her wait. She clutched his hair in her fist, just rough enough to assert her impatience.

Will kissed her hip bone. “If you think I’m going to rush this, you’re insane.”

“And you’re mean.”

A haughty hum punctuated his grin. Slippery fingers traced the insides of her thighs and she stepped her feet wider. For what felt like ages, his touch edged closer, closer, only to back off. She tightened her fist, begging. At long last, the pad of his finger glanced her clit, making every muscle in her body tense.

His tongue traced the corner of his mouth.

“I saw that, Captain Smug.”

He smiled up at her. As he stroked the seam of her lips, Leigh gasped, melting against the wall. His touch was slow and deliberate, delicate enough to keep the pleasure maddening. She let his hair go, cupping the back of his neck.

Will put his mouth to her hip, his eyes closing as his fingers slid inside her. Holding his face close, she wished to feel his mouth other places, but this shower was a logistical issue. Will added a third finger and she reveled in the sexy, explicit feeling of his penetration. When the pleasure became all at once too much and not nearly enough, she pushed him away and bade him stand.

“Bed.”

“Bed,” he agreed. Arousal had his lids looking heavy, his lips parted, and Leigh wanted to watch a hundred other emotions pass over that face, preferably as he stared down at her from above.

They rinsed away the suds and toweled off in record time, Will finally kicking his shorts aside. He made it to the huge bed first, stripping down the comforter to expose satin sheets, some dark color indistinguishable in the moonlight. He climbed atop them, just about yanking Leigh with him. She settled on top of him, his erection pinned between her legs. She’d been poised to savor, but his bossy hands took hold of her hips, drawing her forward, easing her back. Hard, thick, hot—exactly how this man ought to feel. He was a fling to wreck all others, the best Caribbean souvenir a greedy woman couldn’t buy. Will felt like far more than that, frankly, but she couldn’t let the crush take too strong a hold.

“On top of me,” she muttered, moving to the side.

He obeyed in a flash, kneeling between her legs.

“Tonight,” she began.

“Yes?”

“Not all the way. Not yet.”

“Whatever you ask.” He took his dick in hand and swept his head across her slick folds and clit. Wondrous.

For a minute or two she luxuriated in the sight and pleasure, then the ache in her belly demanded more. But they were moving so fast. Too fast. There were condoms in her bathroom cabinet, fancy ones wrapped in gold foil that she’d first mistaken for chocolate coins. But no. She was here for two weeks. They ought to save something for later...if there was a
later,
a
next time
. Regardless, there was plenty to explore tonight without rushing to the finale.

He brought his body alongside hers and drew her thigh over his. More of that maddening ache as he stroked his stiff length against her sex, her wetness turning the drag of his skin to gliding friction. He grunted softly with each push, only deepening how badly she wanted to feel him inside her. Still, the caress was heaven—perfect pleasure as he slid against her clit, a pure and agonizing tease as hot as penetration itself.

“Will.”

His hand on her lower back felt possessive, and she knew exactly how he’d be if he took her. His chest and stomach were tight with the labor, a vision to record and replay on any number of the lonely nights awaiting her back in the States.

“You feel amazing,” he whispered.

Leigh replied with a scrape of her nails up his back. It riled him, as she’d hoped, and he grabbed her thigh, holding her tight as his hips sped up. The details blurred, Leigh only aware now of his hard, masculine body, his smell and his need...his strength, above all else. The desire built between her legs, deep in her core, antsy and greedy and demanding. It hardened to an ache, mirrored by the tantalizing brush of her nipples against his chest. With her longing grew his sounds, grunts deepening to moans, the noises of a man coming undone. He pressed his forehead to hers.

“Will.”

Another groan and a murmured, “Please.”

The orgasm burst inside her, warmth and tension and relief ringing against his erection. Her nails bit his skin but he kept stroking until the sensation was too intense, her hips begging for an end to the friction.

He flipped her onto her back and knelt between her spread thighs. Her desire flooded and surged like a riptide as he wrapped her hand around him, guiding her to stroke him fast and rough. A strangled moan tumbled from his throat as he lost himself, his release warm against her hip and fist. She touched his face with her free hand as he emptied, marveling to see him so wild, feeling he was so unmistakably hers, if only in this moment.

He flopped to his back beside her with a huff. Not willing to leave the bed, Leigh tidied herself with the far corner of the sheet, then nestled against his heaving ribs.

She broke the silence once Will’s breathing slowed to normal.

“What exactly is the standard gratuity for that amenity, Captain?”

She heard his near-silent laugh, barely more than an exhalation. He mussed her hair, the teasing gesture so perfect, so comforting. So Will Burgess.

“It wasn’t scheduled, so I don’t mind if there’s an extra fee.”

“Hush, Bailey.”

“Is there a meal service included, or did we not go for long enough?”

With a groan he relocated, straddling her and smothering her cheeks and jaw in kisses, a fine manifestation of annoyance, Leigh thought.

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

“Good.” He collapsed back beside her, taking her hand but leaving their overheated bodies space to cool.

Before long she felt his fingers go slack with sleep, and the fever in her skin gave way to a chill. She pulled the jettisoned covers over them, spooning herself to his side.

Liquid satin and cloud-soft cotton, but no sensation so nice as Will’s presence at her back. The breeze and the rush of the waves only half as relaxing as the rhythm of his breathing.

She dropped off in no time, a final thought passing across her consciousness. She’d have no trouble sleeping in this once-intimidating bed from now on. Even alone, she’d pile the pillows at her back and imagine this feeling, and no worries would keep her from her dreams.

* * *

W
ILL
AWOKE
IN
HEAVEN
. Sheets like a cool breeze, early morning sunshine on his naked back, and best of all, a warm, womanly body hugged to his chest. He put his face to Leigh’s hair and breathed her in.

His schedule hadn’t changed in seven years, and even waking in this unexpected place, he knew it was precisely six fifty-nine—same moment he woke each day, just in time to shut off his alarm clock before it began screeching. There’d be no quick fishing trip this morning, but he wouldn’t miss it. What he had here in this gigantic bed was far more fun. He pulled Leigh’s long hair aside and kissed her neck and shoulder, rousing her as he reached her arm.

She shifted onto her back, smiling. He squinted at her in the dawn light, loving the sleepy look on her face, with no trace of the anxiety he so often detected there.

“Your eyes are very blue,” she mumbled, the last word swallowed by a yawn.

He smiled politely, though the compliment grated. “You’ve got your mother’s eyes,” was an observation he’d heard far too many times growing up. He had her eyes. Lovely. One thing she hadn’t remembered to pack when she’d disappeared with the rest of her possessions, never to return.

“Yours are gray,” Will said. “I don’t think I’ve actually met anyone with gray eyes before.”

She batted her lashes at him. “They were blue when I was a baby...and once a photographer used Photoshop to make them blue for a mascara ad. Which I thought was sort of insulting.”

“Gray’s way more exotic.”

“I like to think so.”

He tried to picture her in an ad, in a magazine. On-screen. All that makeup would probably just wreck the perfection he saw right here before him. “Maybe I ought to watch one of your films.”

“I doubt very much they’re your taste.”

“Like you know my taste after five days,” he teased. “Though, actually, do you kiss other men in any of those movies?”

“I do.”

“Well, you’re right then—not my taste at all.” He pulled her close and pressed his lips to her temple. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Morning.”

He ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Save the real kissing until we’ve brushed out teeth?”

She nodded.

“I’ve got to leave by nine for the morning flight. Mind if I grab a shower? Yours is a hundred times nicer than what I’ve got rigged on the beach.”

“Give me a minute to freshen up and it’s all yours. Though shout if anything exciting happens in the shower, anything you need me to spot for you,” she added, bobbing her brows lewdly.

Will gave her butt a swat as she crawled from the covers. She shut herself in the ensuite and Will lay in the tangled sheets for an imaginative few minutes, replaying everything that had happened...and everything he wished had happened. Sliding inside her, that ultimate sensation of one body owning another. His cock roused, but he was relieved she’d asked that they hold back last night.

He was as nuts about Leigh as a man could be after so little time, but there was something about actual sex, actual penetration, that might’ve felt wrong. An arbitrary delineation, but given how close he’d come to accepting money to violate her privacy, he would’ve felt like a cad.

Goddamn, though—she knew how to tempt a weak man.

Water ran and quieted in the bathroom, and Leigh emerged, winding her bed-messy hair into a bun and snapping an elastic around it. “All yours.”