Crave (8 page)

“If you want me to beat you and fuck you, I will. But there will be rules around it. No promises, no expectations. We’ll both call it what it is, exorcising the demon of the past. After the weekend, you go home, we never see each other again.”

With boldness that surprised her, scared her, she asked, “And if I want more?”

“Right now, that’s not an option. You’d have to earn my trust, show me you deserved it. If I scared you before, I would terrify you now. Before I’d consider anything with you, Sarah, I would test you in ways you couldn’t imagine.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“Is it working?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Good. You should be frightened. The collar would only be the beginning of what I would demand from you. I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than your total honesty. I would want to own every one of your reactions. Even that wouldn’t be enough. I’d want to know your every thought, every fear, every inhibition. I’d want to hear every scream and savor every tear. And I’d demand you turn to me to wipe them. There would be no place for you to hide.”

The chill in his voice rippled through her.

“Well, what will it be, Sarah? Shall I just walk you back to your room after dinner?” He raised an eyebrow. “How brave are you now?”

Chapter Three

Reece watched several emotions chase across her face. Her lips had parted as she’d listened to him. Now, slowly, she closed her mouth. Then she frowned. He saw shock. Disbelief. Resignation. And now, with the set of her lips, determination.

Reece told himself that her answer didn’t matter. She’d vanished once, and he’d survived it. When he’d accepted the invitation to Julien’s party, Reece had expected to find some female companionship for the weekend. Playing with her could be an interesting diversion, as long as he didn’t allow himself to fall under her spell again.

“I’m sure that you’re right that I should be scared. But maybe I’m more foolish than frightened. For right now, I’ll settle for what you’re offering.”

“The weekend?”

She nodded.

He reached for the bottle of wine and topped off her glass. “Eat up. Your dinner is getting cold.”

She picked up her fork, and he did the same.

“This really is good,” she said.

He took a bite. “Agreed.” He wasn’t talking about the food.

In silence, they ate for a few minutes.

“I like it best with the blue cheese butter,” she said.

“I prefer it with a squeeze of lemon.”

She took one more bite then pushed her plate aside. The waiter appeared a few minutes later.

“Key lime pie for dessert?” he asked.

Sarah shook her head.

“Coffee?” Reece offered.

“I’m done.”

“Bill it to my room, please,” he told the waiter.

“Certainly, sir.”

As soon as they were alone, he stood and pulled back her chair.

Taking her hand, he said, “Come with me.”

“Not upstairs?”

“Not yet.”

He led her down a path toward the ocean.

“Moonlight stroll?”

“Among other things.”

In the dimness, he saw her eyebrows draw together.

The resort had done an artful job with using shrubbery to make the path clear. There was enough lighting to be safe, but not enough to ruin the Caribbean ambiance.

Only one other couple was on the private beach, and he guided her away from them.

The resort loomed in the distance, providing a point of reference. Clouds drifted in front of the moon, casting shadows before moving on.

He led her close to the ocean, where the sand was damp, packed, easier to walk on.

“Now what?” she asked when he pulled her to a stop.

“Naked.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want you naked.”

“Here?”

He waited.

She glanced around. Then she worried her lower lip. “You’re serious?”

“If I help you undress, there will be a penalty.”

“Will I like it?”

He remembered her teasing him like that in the past. Sometimes she’d opt to pay the price. Other times, she just wanted to know what her options were. When he spoke more harshly, she obeyed, even if it was slowly, reluctantly. “Do you like that dress?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said.

She kicked off her sandals. Then she pulled her dress over her head.

He took it from her, then said, “The bra, too.”

“I was afraid of that.”

He stood there while she removed it. “I may keep you like that for the whole weekend.”

She opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything.

“Into the ocean.”

“You remembered.”

“I told you earlier,” he said. “I remember every single word you say to me.” He took off his jacket and spread it on the sand while she waded into the water, then he placed her dress and bra on top.

“Come on!” she called.

Reece stripped, dropping his clothes on top of hers.

She was already waist deep when he headed toward her.

When he was close, she splashed him. “Are you a strong swimmer?” he asked, dragging his hair back from his forehead.

“Awful,” she insisted, slowly backing away.

“That’s unfortunate.” He stalked her.

She laughed, moving backwards. “No. Really. I’m a terrible swimmer.”

Concentrating on her, he didn’t reply.

“Reece?” She crossed her arms in front of her.

He dove beneath the water and came up behind her. After catching her up in his arms, he turned, then tossed her into the water.

Seconds later, she came up sputtering.

“You’re wet, Sarah.”

She wiped her hair back from her face. Then, shocking him, she dove beneath the water and swam strongly toward him. He momentarily lost sight of her, but then felt something against the back of his legs.

He pitched forward as his knees buckled.

“Don’t underestimate the power of revenge,” she told him when he regained his footing.

She’d used the distraction to move quite a bit closer to shore and, like a siren, stood there, feathering back the long strands of her hair from her eyes and wearing a brilliant smile.

“Come here,” he said.

“I…”

He pointed to an imaginary spot directly in front of him. “Now.”

With an exaggerated sway of her hips, she complied. “What can I do for you, Sir?” she asked, finger-combing her hair as she looked up at him.

Her nipples were tight beads, and goosebumps dotted her arms. She’d never been lovelier.

His cock hardened.

In the two years they’d been apart, he’d dated a handful of women, even played with a couple of subs at an exclusive club in the Colorado Rockies. But his body responded to her in a way it didn’t with any other woman.

He reminded himself to be careful with this one. Despite the emotional damage she’d caused, he wanted her. Bad. No one had turned him on like she did. No one else had made him think of the future.

“What are you thinking?”

“About your breasts.”

Salt water ran down her chest. “Do men ever think about anything else?”

“What’s the question?”

She cupped her hand and scooped up water to toss at him.

He captured her wrist and dragged her closer.

“You’re every bit as sexy as you ever were,” she said, running her free hand down his upper arm.

Until he’d met her, he’d sworn off love. In fact, back in college, he, Julien, Kennedy and Grant had gotten drunk on a very expensive, and very stolen, bottle of Scotch as he lamented the fact that Mindy Bates had broken his heart.

He’d caught her in bed with one of their professors, and the lucky guy had been getting a blow job. Julien had started planning a strategy to get the guy fired. A remote video camera would be involved, along with sending the feed to the college’s president.

Grant had clapped Reece on the back in sympathy.

But it was Kennedy who had been the real hero. His girlfriend, the amazing and sultry Samara, had flashed her gorgeous, enhanced breasts at the liquor store clerk while Kennedy had swiped the bottle from the shelf.

Then she’d been understanding while Kennedy had gone out with the guys. Reece had always thought that Kennedy should have married the woman. His family would have never agreed to that. Going to school in Texas had been as big a rebellion as he’d been allowed. The fact that Kennedy had finally relented and accepted family money and been packed off to an Ivy League graduate program had meant he had finally understood the weight of the mantle that would be transferred onto him when his father passed.

“What are you thinking?” Sarah asked.

“That you lied. About being a terrible swimmer.”

“Yes, I did,” she said.

Her triumphant grin made her eyes light up. The deadly combination forced him to hide a smile.

“The question is, what are you going to do about it, Mr McRae? Tie me up? Blindfold me?” Her words were breathless, laced with anticipation.

“Paddle your behind.”

“When?” She moved her hand lower until she captured his balls.

“You never used to be so bold.”

“Do you like it?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

She stroked his cock. “In a few minutes?”

He’d already been aroused. Now he was impossibly hard. “Five. Ten at the most.”

She smiled, and he was reminded of the past. They’d shared a lot of teasing moments, both at the office then at home after he’d convinced her to move in. Even when she was starting her own business and she was working sixteen hour days, they’d taken time to talk on the phone, or he’d bring her takeout food.

Sarah leaned against him and put her forehead on his shoulder.

He resisted the impulse to wrap an arm around her and hold her close. They had the rest of the weekend. Nothing more.

She continued her rhythmic motion, and he stopped her. “I’d like to save that for later,” he said.

“Only if I can suck it.”

Fuck.
Yeah. The woman had definitely grown bolder in the last two years. Sarah Lovett had become a sex kitten. Would he survive it? The image of her on her knees, intent on his pleasure, made him throb. “That can be arranged. Let’s go.”

He released his hold on her. The brat stroked his cock another couple of times. “Be careful of disobeying me,” he warned.

“Of course, Sir.”

Sarah had chosen the right response, but the lightness in her tone had robbed the words of their genuineness.

“I’m warning you.”

“I heard you, Sir,” she reassured him.

He followed her from the sea and, on shore, picked up her dress and helped her into it, not an easy feat with her body being wet.

“I seem to be having difficulty keeping my clothes on around you.”

He tucked her bra into his jacket pocket.

“Am I going to get my lingerie back?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he replied. He shook the sand from his jacket then draped it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Reece liked to look at her, but suddenly he didn’t want other men ogling her. After shucking water from his legs, he pulled on his trousers.

“You were commando?” she asked. “In those pants?”

“I’m not a fan of underwear for either of us,” he replied.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

The way his cock was still responding made him glad that she hadn’t noticed.

As he’d finished dressing, she scooped up her sandals and carried them by the straps.

When they neared the resort, he said, “Wait a minute.” He picked a bright pink bloom and tucked it behind her ear, into her damp hair.

“Hibiscus,” she said. “One of my favorites.”

“Lucky guess.” He didn’t know a dandelion from a daffodil and didn’t much care to learn. That was why florists existed.

“Thank you. For that, as well as the swim,” she said.

“Wondering what other surprises you have in store for me,” he replied.

They stopped again so she could rinse off her feet at the outdoor shower, and he offered an arm for support as she slipped her shoes back on.

Inside the resort, the lobby was loud and bustling. Air-conditioning blasted them, chilling his still-damp skin. Bottles of champagne were being passed around, sans glasses. In an alcove, a string quartet appeared to be playing. Since he couldn’t hear anything over all of Julien’s friends and acquaintances, it was difficult to say. “Need anything before we head up?”

“McRae!”

Recognizing the voice above the droning noise, he held up his hand to signal Sarah to stop.

“Someone you know?” she asked.

“College buddy. Went to school together until his mommy and daddy shipped him off to Massachusetts and away from our questionable friendship and morals. As you see, questionable morals trump family expectations.”

“Is that Kennedy Aldrich?” She looked at one of his oldest friends then back to him. “Wait. You know Kennedy Aldrich?”

“Have I finally impressed you?”

“In a big way. First Julien, then Kennedy Aldrich?”

“I’m only impressing you because of my friends?”

“We’re talking about Kennedy Aldrich, Reece,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“He’s a normal guy.” Could drink with the best of them, cheat on a test or two, drive too fast, don a disguise to dodge the paparazzi, wield a whip, complete a deal on the golf course and still go on a morning talk show.

“Who’s this?” Kennedy asked by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you, too, Aldrich,” Reece said.

The way Kennedy ignored him and honed in on Sarah pissed Reece off, just a little.

She extended her hand, returning the man’s smile. “Sarah Lovett.”

“Sarah Lovett?
The
Sarah Lovett?” Friendly expression gone, Kennedy looked at Reece. “Do we need a bottle of Scotch?”

“Did I miss something?” she asked.

Kennedy took her hand. “Man went through a fortune of my best stuff when you vanished, Ms Lovett.”

“Does everyone know?” she asked Reece. Her tone held a combination of apology and horror.

“That you ran away and broke his heart? Only the people he gets drunk with,” Kennedy assured her. “I’m surprised and delighted to meet you.”