Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 3 (14 page)

“Trent!”

“Cream—”

The shot of, appropriately enough—whipped cream—hit him in the mouth, and he sputtered to a stop, eyeing her evilly.

She lowered the piping bag, fists dropping to her hips. “Behave. Let me pop these crusts in the oven, and then we can talk about your fascination with self-pleasure.”

Hmm, now there’s an idea.
Not his pleasure, but hers. That was something he could get into. He stepped back complacently, licking his lips. Paige poked him as she passed by to re-wash her hands thoroughly. She returned to the counter, working quickly with the pastry dough. Effortlessly, she formed intricate flowerlike cups, one after another resting on the paper lining the cookie sheets.

He studied her face, loving the way her intent concentration made a tiny furrow appear between her eyes. She was smiling, nodding as she placed another edible art form onto the tray, and he realized this was a form of artistic expression. The beauty she created not only pleased the eyes but the palate and all the rest of his senses. She was a fully sensual creature, and he loved being around her. Enthusiasm and sensuality shone through everything she did.

He couldn’t be any more certain. This thing between them was far more than a physical attraction. He was head-over-fucking-heels with the slim seductress. He would do everything he could to make sure she stayed in his life—even if it meant a few more unusual solutions, like those offered by Mason’s gung-ho, madcap, anything-goes, both-feet-forward attitude.

Hmm, an attitude that was remarkably like Paige’s.

“I bet that’s why you guys get along so well.”

She straightened after placing the second pan in the oven, that little secretive smile teasing the corner of her mouth again. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“You and Mason. You’re both totally open and game for anything.”

Paige’s heartbeat leaped upward again as he caught her fingers. She’d slipped them under the faucet, adding a shot of soap to clean off the butter clinging to them. He lathered her up, threading his fingers through hers, his touch firm and yet sexual as he touched each digit in turn. Her mouth went absolutely dry.

They didn’t seem to be able to be in the same room without wanting each other. “You’re not such a prude yourself, Trent.”

He crowded closer, his arms caging her, hands rocking over hers again and again. Splashes rose to soak the front of her blouse. He planted kisses along her neckline, and she leaned to the side to allow him to maneuver.

Instead he spun her and locked his lips on hers. Oh Lord, she couldn’t think when he did that thing with his tongue. Taking total control of her mouth as if he were starving and only she could satisfy his hunger. He licked and nibbled and explored—ownership in every touch. The sound of the running water grew faint below the roaring of the blood in her ears. His wet hands slipped onto her back, the fabric sticking to her skin. He held her by the upper arms and slowly separated their bodies, his lips clinging with heat and moisture until the last possible second.

They stared at each other. She knew she was grinning, and the expression on his face—sheer happiness. As if he was exactly where he wanted to be, and life was good.

She’d put that expression in his eyes, at least partially, and for one wild second she nearly blurted out that she loved him.

“Knock knock.”

They both spun toward the door, Trent settling her tightly against his chest. The warmth of his body heated the wet spots on her clothing.

Mason raised a brow as he approached. “Am I interrupting? Fair dinkum, it smells delicious in here.”

“Paige is cooking up a storm.”

Mason walked the length of the room with any hesitation, not stopping until he was pressed firmly against her.

“She always cooks up the most mouth-watering mischief.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her. A momentary buss on the lips, just enough for her to taste him, tease her senses. “What’s next on the menu? That’s what I want to know.”

He dipped his head again and took his time opening her lips to his caress. A series of small kisses along her jaw, a butterfly soft touch to the corner of her mouth. A tantalizing stroke of his tongue over her lower lip.

A low level of excitement and delight accompanied his teasing touch. She was totally surrounded, boxed in by two solid male torsos. Trent’s erection pressed hard into her right butt cheek, and the longer Mason kissed her, the more his interest rose as well. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him tight. Twisted her hips slightly, rubbing both of them, slow and deliberate. She might be encircled, but she still had a say in this adventure. It looked as if there was no need to prolong the wait for one of her favorite parts.

Being totally cared for by two men. Four hands bringing her delight, stroking and guiding her pleasure in ways she’d never dreamed possible before getting involved with them.

Paige pulled her lips free and Mason leaned his forehead against hers. Trent’s fingers caressed her hip slowly. They both waited, patiently. Time paused, their three bodies slowly becoming more attuned to each other as their breathing synchronized. Her anticipation rose—there
was
some specific mischief she had in mind, although it was actually Mason who was the engineer of this afternoon’s coming escapade.

She could hardly wait to see him explain the sex chair that graced the center of their suite. Forget the details of how it got there, she wanted to know everything possible about using the chair itself.

Adolescent fantasies can grow into very adult realities.

Island Idyll

© 2011 Jess Dee

Bandicoot Cove, Book 4

Sienna James has come to Bandicoot Cove to mourn the end of her eight-year relationship with Ben Cowley. The last person she expects to meet is the star of every one of her high school fantasies.

Joshua Lye is not only as appealing as he was in high school, he reveals she was the main feature in his adolescent wet dreams. As kids they never got it together. But they’re adults now, and there’s nothing keeping them apart.

When Ben arrives at the resort determined to win Sienna back, finding another man in her bed kind of throws a spanner in the works. But he isn’t deterred. Rather than admit defeat, he comes up with an alternative plan: Let Sienna sleep with both men—at the same time. Then she can make an informed decision as to which man she wants.

Sienna shouldn’t want to go through with this shockingly sexy plan, but she does. Desperately. Except after the sexual storm passes, she could have it all…or be left holding an empty heart.

Warning: Contains a suggestion beyond risqué, a solution beyond orgasmic, and two men who know how to play dirty. Really,
really
dirty.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Island Idyll:

“My room is just down there.” She pointed, her voice breathless.

Ah. A beachside bungalow. Figured. Kylie would have saved the best for her best friends. His own suite was situated in the staff quarters. Nothing to sneeze at, but a million miles away from here. “Condoms are in my room,” he told her, wondering why the fuck he didn’t carry one around in his pocket at all times.

New rule. From this second on always carry a condom. Always. No question.

Her lips curved into a sexy grin. “I have some.”

He faltered midstep. “You do?”

“There’s a box in the bathroom. Compliments of the hotel.”

“So, they’re not yours?”

She shook her head.

Unquestionable relief stole through him. They weren’t hers. Which meant she hadn’t come here with the intention of having sex.

“I didn’t think to bring any,” she confessed. Her lips twitched as she looked on ahead, steering him towards her bungalow. “I don’t usually use condoms with my vibrator.”

Josh tripped. Over his own feet. Fuck, she hadn’t even blushed when she’d said that.

Sienna turned to steady him. “You okay?”

Christ, the way her eyes danced, mischief painted all over her delectable face, her freckles standing out… “You said that on purpose,” he accused. “Just to get a reaction out of me.”

Why on earth had he ever thought her eyes were the color of a summer sky? Right now they looked black. Her pupils were enormous, dark spheres rimmed with navy.

“Did I get a reaction?” she asked with the tiniest hint of a smirk.

Jesus, what happened to the naïve kid he’d known in school? “Did you want one?”

She shrugged sweetly. “Only if it promises more satisfaction than my vibrator.”

Enough.

He couldn’t take another second of her teasing. Of her subtle scent that drifted through his nose with hints of cinnamon. Of her creamy white skin, so silky, just begging to be touched. He couldn’t take one more second.

With more speed than he knew he possessed, he backed her up against the trunk of a palm tree, stepped in close—so close she’d have no doubt of the satisfaction his response could provide—and slanted his mouth over hers.

The little minx was ready for him, her lips soft, warm, welcoming and…parted.

Holy fuck!
She’d parted her lips for him, inviting his tongue in, leaving the hot, sweet cavern of her mouth open to his exploration.

Her taste hit him with the force of a cannonball, smashing into his chest, winding him. Sweet and tangy, like strawberries and rum. And salty, like the sea air. Innocence, mischief and…sadness, all rolled into one.

He could taste all that on her tongue? Sadness? Why?

Then she whimpered against his lips, and his thoughts scattered. She twined a leg around his, hooking her foot around his ankle, pressing her groin into his and lining her pussy up with his cock.

He hadn’t been kidding earlier when he’d said if she’d touched him, even once, when they were younger, it’d have been game over in a second. Suddenly he was that horny kid all over again. The determined teenager, aroused and desperate for a taste of her, a feel of her, knowing he could never have her.

She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his dick through his boardies, making him groan savagely into her mouth.

The sound must have motivated her. Less than a second later the same hand was dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts and caressing his bare, aching penis. Here, in the open, standing just on the side of a public pathway, where God knew who could walk past. Anyone.

Anyone.
And she was holding his dick in her palm, petting it.

Christ. Fuck. Holy shit.

She was in his arms, pressing her body against him, wrapping her hand around his erection, and damned if he wasn’t on the verge of ending the game right now.

He wrenched his lips from hers, his eyes scrunched shut, pain shooting through his balls.

Fuck, release. He needed release. Needed to come.

“Let go. Quick,” he rasped.
Whoa. Close. Way too close.
“Say something, anything. Get my mind off fucking you, or it’s not gonna happen.”

Her hand was an instrument of torture, releasing him in tiny, tormenting strokes. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her breasts scraping against his chest with every inhalation.

Not helping. Not one little bit. “Princess, fuck, say something.”

With a long, breathy sigh, she released him, extricating her hand from his pants. “I…I’m getting married.”

He clenched his teeth, willing his orgasm into retreat mode, mulling over her words, trying to make sense of them.

Married.

Married?

His erection died a sudden, effective death. Her confession slapped him clean across the face.

Josh stumbled back. “Married?”

No way. No fucking way.

What was he then? Some last minute entertainment before the big day? The last hurrah? A quick spin to tie up any childhood loose ends?

Sienna’s face creased with sorrow.

“You’re getting married, and you’re here? Doing this? With me?” Irrational fury surged through him.

Tears pooled in her eyes. She shook her head. “No. I’m not.”

Josh glared, his thoughts reeling. “Jesus, Sienna, what the fuck kind of a game are you playing with me?”

“No game. I’m not getting married.” Her voice trembled.

“You said—”

“You told me to say something.”

He smacked his fist into his forehead. Christ, he had. He’d practically yelled at her. “So…so you’re not getting married.”

A tear spilled over onto her cheek. “No.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

Tropical Sin

Lexxie Couper

It takes more than a rock star to rock your world. Sometimes you need a friend.

Bandicoot Cove, Book 3

McKenzie Wood is Australia’s star gossip mag journalist, and she’s just spied the story of a lifetime: rumor-shrouded rock star, Nick Blackthorne—who thinks he’s incognito at Bandicoot Cove resort. The word is Nick’s a sex addict about to come out of the closet, and who better to lure Nick out than her BFF, Aiden Rogers—a pulse-poundingly gorgeous firefighter who is always there when she needs him, no matter the challenge.

Aiden admits it’s pretty damned pathetic that he can rush into burning buildings, but not have the guts to tell McKenzie he’s in love with her. No way can he tell his best friend he’d like to do some seriously sinful things to her, especially since she’s never shown one iota of sexual interest.

Nick looks forward to some “unfamous” downtime in his home country. He’s surprised to find his creative muse stirred—more like brought to rigid attention—by a couple so sexy that all he can think about is the three of them. Together.

Three bodies move together as one, and the music becomes a smoldering beat that rivals the island’s heat. When the truth inevitably comes out, the heat might be enough to save three souls…or end up just another sinner’s lament.

Warning: One plus one plus one equals OMG sex, are-you-freaking-kidding-me orgasms and some serious mind-blowing climaxes.