Blush (2 page)

Their tongues entwined as he lowered her onto the sand. He wanted to ravish her, to sate the relentless urge to bury himself deep within her.

But her nerves tamped his desire. Why would a beautiful, accomplished woman be nervous? While he didn’t want to delve in her psyche, he respected her honesty and would take it slow.

Even if he had a hard-on of massive proportions, the kind that wouldn’t be assuaged with anything less than driving into her until he came, he’d do his best to put her at ease.

She hooked a leg over his, bringing him in tantalizing contact to exactly where he wanted to be. Damn, this taking it slow business may be a lot harder than he thought.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to possess, daring her to match him. And she did, rolling on top of him in a slick move that drove the air from his lungs, her deep, open-mouthed kisses bordering on devouring.

Not that he was complaining, hell no. His hands strummed her back, slow and languorous, cupping her ass and squeezing. She moaned and writhed on top of him, rubbing against his dick with exquisite, torturous precision.

“You can tell it has been a while for me,” she said, nipping his earlobe. “I’m pretty close.”

“Don’t hold back on my account, sweetheart.” He gripped her hips and guided her expertly over his hard-on, driving upward as he pulled her down, savoring her escalating pants.

“Reid, oh yeah…” She stiffened a second before sagging on top of him with a long, low keen that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He loved how she hadn’t held back; embracing her orgasm with the same enthusiasm she’d led him here with.

“You okay up there?” He nuzzled her neck when she didn’t move, her soft, sated sigh the only indication she’d heard him.

“Mmm…” She snuggled into his chest and as his arms slid around her waist to hold her close, for a startling moment he wondered how this could feel so right with a woman he barely knew.

He cuddled her for a few moments, desperate to bury himself inside her but reining in the urge. What seemed like an eternity later, she raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.

“That was great but I need more.”

“You and me both,” he said, flipping her before he’d finished speaking.

She laughed as he loomed over her, braced on his elbows, his dick pressing against her moist heat. “Want to hear my version of crazy?”

“Crazier than two virtual strangers hooking up on a secluded beach?”

He nodded. “I’m a pragmatist. Annoyingly practical. And that side of me is thinking sand burn may not be the most comfortable thing to deal with tomorrow.”

She didn’t laugh at him as he expected but the wicked smile curving her lips made him think
what’s a little sand burn between friends
.

“If you’re so concerned about the condition of our skin, why don’t we keep our clothes on?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You can’t have it both ways.” She trailed a fingernail across his jaw, rasping against the faint stubble that seemed to appear an hour after he shaved. “On or off?”

“Compromise.” He shimmied down her body, raking his teeth over the black silk of her dress until she whimpered. “We take off essentials only.”

Her eyes widened as his hands started at her ankles and slid slowly upward, lingering on the sensitive skin behind her knees, his fingertips caressing the insides of her thighs, before he reached his intended target.

He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her black satin thong and tugged, inching it down over her sensitive skin until she arched.

Only when he’d removed her thong and placed it on his jacket—yeah, practical to the end—did he allow himself to look.

Damn.

Adele lay before him, her legs splayed, her moist folds on full display.

“Fuck,” he murmured, fumbling for his wallet with one hand, unzipping with the other.

“It’s not polite to stare,” she said, smiling up at him with a wantonness at odds with her earlier reticence. And the combination of worldly and innocence spurred him on like nothing else.

“Not staring. Admiring in speechless wonder.”

She smirked. “Typical politician, silky smooth words for every occasion.”

Some of his excitement waned. She hadn’t meant to put a dampener on proceedings but the last thing he needed to be reminded of now was his frigging job.

So he did what he’d always done when faced with an uncomfortable moment. Swallowed his first response. Weighed his words carefully. Put a positive spin on it.

“Guess it’s time for less talk, more action,” he said, slipping a foil packet from his wallet, grateful when he didn’t drop it in the sand.

Yeah, she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

Incredibly stupid, considering he’d bedded his fair share of women. Whether it was the length of time since he’d last had sex or the strangely floundering feeling being with Adele elicited, he had no idea, but this wary edginess was unusual.

He liked sex. Liked the high. Hell, what guy didn’t?

But with Adele staring at him with a mix of concern and tenderness, those nerves of his? Completely shot.

“I’m all for action.” She plucked the foil packet out of his hands and ripped it open. “Come closer.”

Only too happy to obey her command, he scooted closer, holding his breath as she unsnapped the button on his pants and pushed them down.

A low whistle escaped her lips as she delved into his boxers, the first brush of her fingers against his dick making him jerk.

Blood pounded through his veins. He could hear the rhythmic beat in his ears as she freed him.

“Wow,” she said, her gaze fixed on his dick as she rolled the condom on and damned if he’d never seen anything so erotic.

When she reached the base she cupped his balls, rolling them between her fingers like a couple of stress balls. Insanely, he had an urge to laugh. Never again would he be able to look at the pair on his desk without remembering this moment.

She slid a finger behind his balls and applied pressure to the skin, making him jump with the stab of intense pleasure.

“Keep that up and we won’t get to the good stuff,” he said, stilling her head and scooting back down her body.

“This is all good.” She propped on her elbows, watching him, as he lifted her skirt again and gazed at nirvana.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, a moment before dipping his head to tongue her.

Her hips arched up to meet him and he feasted. Sliding his tongue between her folds, licking her clit, sucking her.

She muttered words he could barely hear, incoherent in her pleasure as she reached for his head, unconsciously guiding him.

Reid wanted to prolong this, wanted to wring every last ounce of sensation out of her, but the longer she made those soft, mewling sounds, the harder it was to hold back.

As she tensed beneath him and arched her hips higher, he picked up the pace, swirling his tongue over her clit, faster and faster until she screamed, tearing out half his hair in the process.

The pain didn’t register. It had nothing on the ache in his balls.

“Need you. Inside me. Now.”

He liked how she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to demand it. Intelligent, gorgeous and feisty. A winning combination. One he’d regretfully walk away from in less than an hour.

Annoyed by reality intruding again, he propped over her, his dick nudging her in a prolonged moment of pure anticipation.

Not for long, as she tilted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist and he was lost.

He plunged into her, her slick tightness drawing a low groan from somewhere deep within.

She felt incredible. Tight. Wet. Heaven.

“Faster,” she demanded, her nails clawing his back, shattering his intentions to take it slow.

“Reid, please…”

He surrendered, his control snapping when he caught her whispered, “Fuck me good.”

So he did, slamming into her, faster and harder than he’d ever thought possible. The tension built too quickly but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything bar satisfying them both.

Sand grated across their sweat-slicked skin. Yep, beyond caring. With every thrust, his body tightened. The pleasure escalating along with her cries, decadent and haunting.

He came in a mind-blowing rush, his yell echoing hers and bouncing off the cave walls.

Unable to think let alone speak, he sagged on top of her, savoring the contact, wishing they were naked. Next time.

The second the thought registered there wouldn’t be a next time, his gut inexplicably griped. He knew then he was in trouble, for he didn’t have time in his life right now for a relationship, let alone a long distance one.

But as Adele wriggled out from beneath him, traced his lower lip with a fingertip and said, “Thank you,” he damn well wished he did.

“That island sure agreed with you,” Chantal said, popping peanuts into her mouth as she reclined behind her monstrous desk at Burlesque Bombshell. “You’re glowing.”

“It’s a three day tan,” Adele said, hoping she wouldn’t blush, knowing it was a lost cause.

With her fair skin, she’d been unable to control the stupid, incriminating blushes since she’d been a kid, standing in front of the principal trying to explain why she was late for the fifth week in a row.

Caring for an alcoholic mom from the time her dad had abandoned them when she’d been seven meant she’d tolerated a lot of school inquisitions, equating to a ton of blushes. Beyond annoying.

“Tan my ass.” Chantal scrunched the empty peanut bag and threw it in the trash. “That’s a sex glow.”

The heat flushing Adele’s cheeks increased. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Chantal winked. “I happen to remember a certain accountant disappearing toward the end of the wedding reception with a certain politician.”

“Reid and I took a walk on the beach.”

And ended up having stupendously great sex, but that was strictly on a need to know basis.

Chantal smirked. “Don’t you mean you and Reid had sex on the beach?”

Adele shot Chantal a death glare and her boss laughed. “Come on, Del, share a little something with your single friend.”

Adele waggled a finger at her. “You wouldn’t be single if you worked less and dated more.”

“Could say the same about you, sweetie.” Chantal made cutesy puckering noises. “Or is that about to change now Reid’s on the scene?”

“He’s not,” Adele said, hating how a teensy weensy piece of her heart ached at the thought. “He’s got a campaign to run in LA.”

“Two words for you.” Chantal held up two fingers. “Long distance.”

If only. But Adele wasn’t a fool. After their incredible encounter on the beach at Prince Island, she’d kissed Reid goodbye and walked away with her head held high, wishing all the while he’d call her back. He didn’t. And she pragmatically accepted the truth. They’d had an unforgettable one-night stand and that’s where it ended.

He’d been running from unspoken demons that night, she’d been drowning her sorrows in him rather than a bottle. Never a bottle. Not a chance in hell she’d end up like her mom.

Ironic, the happiest day of Zazz’s life had been one of the saddest for Adele. The loneliness had crept up on her as she’d watched her friend marry Dorian, their obvious joy and infatuation with one another bringing tears to her eyes.

She wanted that. Deep down, in the soft part of her heart she’d locked away years earlier, she craved unconditional love. And a family.

But she was resigned to it not happening. How could it, when loving someone that much meant revealing her secrets and a past she’d rather forget?

No, she couldn’t reveal her shame to anyone and that’s what true intimacy entailed.

Hence the dogged, soul-destroying loneliness that made her do something totally uncharacteristic and have sex with a guy she’d only just met.

Not just any guy.

Reid Harper. Sex lord extraordinaire.

Chantal wolf-whistled. “He was that good, huh?”

“Better,” Adele reluctantly admitted, knowing she’d never forget the best sex of her life. “Imagine what he could’ve done if we’d had a room?”

Chantal tsked-tsked. “You could’ve hung a scarf on our door handle or something.”

“What are we, in college?”

Chantal shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who could’ve had even more sensational sex if you’d had a room.”

Adele sighed and pushed away the cooling latte on her desk. “Want to hear something crazy?”

Chantal wiggled her fingers in a give-it-to-me gesture. “Crazy’s my middle name. Spill.”

“If we’d had a room, I was scared I wouldn’t want to leave.”

“What’s wrong with that? The guy’s a babe.”

“A babe who’s on his way to the senate. A guy who lives in LA. A guy would wouldn’t be seen dead with an ex-Bombshell on his arm.”

Chantal waved away her concerns. “Trivialities. If you wanted to date you’d find a way.”

No, Adele couldn’t, because no one knew her real past, not even Chantal, who’d given her a shot at her first job in Vegas when she’d lobbed into town, desperate to outrun her past.

Adele had danced as a Bombshell for three years while studying part time and when she’d qualified as an accountant, Chantal had offered her another job.

Chantal wouldn’t judge her, she knew that, but the shame of what Adele had done to survive dogged her every day, no matter how many smart designer suits she wore or spreadsheets she pored over.

“Did he mention staying in touch?”

Adele shook her head. “I didn’t give him a chance. I kinda bolted up the beach, ran into Jess and pushed her in Jack’s direction to sort out their problems, then hid out in the villa ’til Reid flew off the island.”

“Jess said you were amazing that night, and look how brilliantly her romance has turned out.” Chantal rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for those two but boy, are they a couple of love-struck schmucks.”

Adele smiled in agreement.

“As for you…” Chantal made chicken noises and flapped her arms. “You could always call him?”

“And say what?
Hey Reid, Del here. Want to hook up again because I can’t get you out of my mind?
” Adele snorted. “Yeah, like that would go down a treat.”