Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 3 (4 page)

A face of an angel with filth on her mind…

The song lyric came to him, lilting and soft, a teasing caress on the part of him he’d thought long dead, and with it came an image of McKenzie Wood, her entirely kissable lips curled in a challenging smile, her direct gaze presenting its own challenge.

His prick moved in his jeans, an eager spasm he felt both in his balls and at the base of his spine. What he wanted right now…right at this very moment…

Aidan cleared his throat, and as if someone had released a valve somewhere on his well-built body, a fluid ease rolled through him. “Didn’t think I was.”

“So, what are you going to tell her?”

A frown pulled at Aidan’s eyebrows. “How do you know it was Mack who put me up to this?”

Nick shrugged, Aidan’s answer confirming more than one suspicion. “Who else would it be? You’re here at the resort with a tabloid journalist. A journalist with the balls to ask me straight out about Germany.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.” Aidan’s gaze was direct. “Who’s to say I didn’t find you attractive back in the corridor?”

Nick laughed again. “I do. I saw the way you looked at her, even when you were trying to shut her up. You don’t write over twenty rock ballads about unrequited love without being able to recognize it.”

He waited for the man to say something, wondering if he should also point out the way Aidan had looked when the little journo with the brass balls and sexy-as-sin body squirmed against him?

Before he could, though, Aidan shook his head, another one of those self-deprecating snorts escaping him. “Unrequited love. Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.”

Nick chuckled. “Ever thought of telling her?”

“About a million times a day.”

“And instead you’re here?”

Aidan let out a huff. “Yeah. I’m here. Of course, she’ll accuse me of not trying to pick you up hard enough.” He tilted his head a little, casting Nick a gaze part curious, part uncertain. “What
were
you doing in Germany, if I might ask? If not because of the whole…” He made a funny, fumbling gesture with his hand, his cheeks growing pink and Nick had to laugh again. Aidan Rogers was, if nothing else, an open, honest and somehow altogether innocent bugger.

“Gay thing?” Nick finished for him, grinning.

“Yeah, that.” Aidan raised his own ice water to his lips and took a drink. “Are you bi?”

Nick let out his own snort. “Nope.”

“So the sex clinic thing is just a rumor?”

The pit of his gut tightened and he swallowed a mouthful. “Nope.”

Once again, Aidan didn’t say anything. Not for a good couple of minutes at least. “Fair enough,” he eventually said with a nod. “Just out of interest, if I were to say to you, ‘I will die in his fire and beg her for’, what’s the first thing that comes into
your
head?”

Life.

The word—simple but with so much weight he could barely draw breath—came to Nick straightaway, accompanied by an image of McKenzie Wood naked and slicked in perspiration, her lithe little body wrapped in the strong, muscled arms of an equally naked, sweat-slicked Aidan Rogers.

How could two people he’d never met until today stir something so firmly believed dead?

And what was he going to do about it?

The sound of metal scrapping on granite jerked Nick back from the brooding thought and he turned towards Aidan, surprised—and more than a touch disappointed—to find the man on his feet. “So, you’re going to give her the bad news, are you?”

Aidan let out a short chuckle. “You know what?” An ambivalent expression claimed his face. “I think it’s time I give her something else.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his pulse thumping quite hard in his neck. “Why today?”

“Because a month ago I almost died in a fire.” Aidan’s lips pulled into a small, lopsided smile. “I think a chance is exactly what I’ve been given.”

With another one of those strangely communicative nods the man walked away, his massive back straight, his shoulders so broad his T-shirt barely stretched over them.

Nick watched him go, his throat far too dry for a man drinking ice water. “Give her one for me, mate,” he muttered, reaching for his drink, knowing full well he was thirsty for something else.

McKenzie chewed on her thumbnail, her stare fixed on the closed door of her luxurious room. It was a disgusting habit she’d promised herself she wouldn’t indulge in anymore—nail chewing, not door staring—but at the moment, she was so damn nervous she didn’t know what else to do.

Damn it, what if Aidan didn’t come back?

What if Nick Blackthorne accepted his drink offer?

What if they were both right at this very minute removing each other’s clothing in Nick’s room?

Why are you so worried about this, McKenzie? Why now? What’s going on in your head to make you worry about who Aidan Rogers sleeps with?

She didn’t know. But something about the way he’d looked at her earlier, like she was the only thing that mattered to him in the world… God, what if she’d made a mistake asking him to—

The sound of a lock releasing shattered the suffocating silence, and McKenzie started on her chair, her pulse flying as the ultra-chic chrome doorknob turned.

The door swung inward, Aidan filling the frame for the split second he took to cross the threshold. The sun streaming through the room’s main window bathed him in warm light, picking out the copper-gold in his light brown hair and turning his green eyes brilliant jade. The white T-shirt he wore clung to his body, snug enough to emphasize his perfectly fit physique, loose enough to highlight how little attention he paid to his appearance. Even his almost baggy cargo pants—hanging low on lean hips and faded to a washed-out olive—were a season late, but on Aidan they just looked…

Sexy.

McKenzie’s heart slammed into her throat, a hot prickling sensation she didn’t want to analyze racing through her at the sight of his towering presence.

Face it, Wood. The guy’s sex on legs. Why have you never seen this before?

Tossing the suite’s key card on the nearby table, he gave her a steady look, walking deeper into their luxurious suite’s living room, drawing closer to her with slow steady steps.

“Soooo?” she asked around her thumbnail.

“He said no.”

“No?” She scrambled from her chair, her heart beating harder. Faster. “How could he say no? How could anyone with a pulse say no to you?”

Aidan’s face became still, a small muscle twitching in his jaw. “I don’t know, Mack. How can you?”

McKenzie’s heart didn’t just thump harder in her chest. It tried to smash its way out of her chest cavity. She looked up at him, lost for a thing to say.

“Ah, fuck it.” The words were almost a guttural growl. In two steps he destroyed the small space left between them, pressed his large hands on either side of her face and took her lips with his.

They were warm. Warm and soft and confident. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t just test the waters. He kissed her. The way a lover kisses. There was nothing chaste or friendly about the way his lips took hers. First with just his lips, his hands framing her face, holding her motionless, and then with his tongue, dipping into her mouth with a determined assurance she liked so very, very much.

Aidan Rogers is kissing you. You are kissing Aidan Rogers.

The thought should have terrified her. He was her best friend. What if it went all wrong?

His tongue stroked against hers, a slow, thorough mating that made her pussy constrict and the ridiculous notion of things going wrong went out the window. Along with the temporary paralysis for some reason claiming her.

With a low groan, she snaked her arms up around his neck, closing her eyes as she pressed her body to his. He was hard. Everywhere. Hard and big. Her sex constricted again, a demanding throb that made her whimper.

“Jesus, you have no idea how long…” he murmured against her lips, nipping at them with gentle bites. He didn’t finish the statement, instead plunging his tongue back into her mouth, a groan closer to a growl rumbling in his chest as his hands raked down her back and grabbed her arse.

He was six-foot-three and built like a warrior. She was five-foot-six and resembled a waif. He had no difficulty whatsoever hauling her off the floor, even less spinning around and taking the two steps needed to press her back against the door. His hands cupped her butt, his legs splaying just enough to balance them both as his lips and tongue continued to worship hers.

McKenzie’s head swam. Hot fingers of raw sensations threaded through her, twisting and turning through the center of her heat as Aidan made love to her mouth. She rolled her hips, wanting to feel the solid thickness of his erection rub over her spread pussy lips. Even with the damn barrier of their clothes, the bulbous shape of his cock head nudging her folds made her pulse quicken and her nipples pucker. She’d touched that cock once—sixteen years ago. She’d rubbed it and laughed and never thought twice about touching it again.

And yet, here she was. Aching to not just touch it, but impale herself on it. Have it stretch her to her limits, fill her completely. No laughing involved.

What if this is a mistake?

The unspoken question hung between them and she pulled away from his kiss, her heart racing. She couldn’t believe this was really happening. How could she? One minute Aidan was just her best friend, now…they were about to have sex?

He waited, watching her but not saying a word, his eyes blazing his desire—and, she was somehow glad to see—his confusion as well. Had he always wanted this? Or was it an island thing? God, she didn’t know.

Does it matter?

Yes, it did. This was huge. She wanted him to make love to her, but hell, was she just letting her body do the thinking now? Their relationship was on the line here. What happened next could destroy it. Irrevocably.

Or take it to a level you never imagined.

Or realized you wanted.

“Aidan…” she whispered, wishing she could see inside his head. Was this just sex for him? Or something else? Something…

“You truly have no idea how long I’ve ached for this, Mack.”

His proclamation, spoken with an almost dazed disbelief, sent a shiver through her. Not just through her sex, but through
her
. All of her.

“What?” She needed to know. “What have you ached for?”

“You.”

The answer was simple. Honest.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I almost…because the thought of you rejecting me…” He left the sentences unfinished, but what he didn’t say made her belly flip.

Oh God. This wasn’t just two friends fooling around now. This was…huge.

“If you want me to stop…” he continued, dragging his hands up her waist only to halt them at the curve of her ribcage just below her breasts. His face was tight with tension, his jaw clenched. “I will. But you need to tell me now.”

Stop? Was he kidding?

Her reaction was instant and raw and it told her what her stupid brain couldn’t. The second he’d even uttered the word “stop” she knew she didn’t want him to.

She buried her fingers in his choppy mess of hair to stare into his eyes. “If you stop, I will be forced to slap you senseless.”

A soft chuckle vibrated through him, the dimples in his cheeks flashing into existence. “I thought of doing something else to you until you were senseless only a little while ago.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, rolling her hips again in an attempt to stroke her sex over the confined pole of his cock. Damn, she wanted to feel that inside her. Wanted it so much she actually ached. “And what was that, Rogers?”

His eyes twinkled green fire. “This.”

He spun her away from the door and, three strides later, threw her on to the suite’s main bed, a massive king-sized number covered in silk and cushions. She squealed in shocked delight, the sound captured by his mouth as he dropped on top of her.

His hands roamed her torso, up to her throat, back down to her hips. He squeezed her arse cheeks before raking one hand down the back of her thigh and tugging her leg up. She willingly obeyed his unspoken direction, wrapping her leg around his hip to grind her pussy up and down his still-constrained cock.

“I want to make love to you, Mack.” His breath was ragged, his eyes ablaze. “Right now.” He slipped one hand under the hemline of her shirt, his fingers brushing her bare flesh beneath.

She sucked in a swift gasp, the contact somehow more electric, more arousing than any she’d ever had before.

Of course it is, McKenzie. This isn’t just anyone. This is Aidan. The guy’s had your heart in his pocket since you were kids. Even if you didn’t know it.

She whimpered, bringing her hand to his as she arched her back. She wanted him to touch her breasts. Not just touch them, but cup them, squeeze them. She wanted to feel the callused strength of his hands mold her soft flesh, hands skilled in extinguishing heat now on the verge of setting her on fire. She wanted to feel him possess her.

“Then what the hell are you waiting any longer for?” she asked, directing his hand up to her breast. Over it.

“Oh God, McKenzie.” He moaned, his body stiffening as his fingers found her pleasure-swollen flesh.

He dragged his thumb over her rock-hard nipple, teasing it through the thin lace of her bra. It puckered harder to his touch, as if it too said, “Yes, why
have
you taken so long to do this?”

Her breaths grew shallow, more rapid with every stroke of his thumb pad. But it wasn’t enough. It was torture.

“Please…”

Like he always knew when she wanted popcorn at the movies, like he always knew when she needed chocolate, like he always
always
knew when she needed to hear his voice and called her from the fire station, now it seemed he knew exactly what she wanted him to do to her.

God, it was wonderful. More than wonderful. It was amazing. Sublime. It was…

Right. So goddamn right.

His erection pressing to the sodden junction of her thighs, Aidan hooked the edge of her bra with his fingers, and with one swift move of his arm, pulled the lace from her breast and raised her shirt up her torso.