Private Lessons (5 page)

He stepped back with his hands still around her waist, and looked at her with pure fascination, asking himself for the countless time what it was about Naomi Clarke that had gotten under his skin.

T
hey spent the afternoon sailing around the island, sipping juices, munching on island delicacies and absorbing each other's company. There were several other couples aboard, and when the captain turned on the music the sailing turned into an onboard party. By the time they returned to the hotel they had been thoroughly entertained, were wobbly on their feet and totally enamored of each other.

Naomi wasn't sure if it was the breathtaking atmosphere, the warm rays of the sun, the enchanting lifestyle of the Caribbean, or if it was simply being with Brice that had her feeling as if she was floating on air. She could not remember feeling so close, so compatible with a man. They touched on so many
subjects, from politics to religion, and family, movies and music. They enjoyed and appreciated so much of the same things in life and were passionate about each of them. How she wished that she had not lied to him, that she had started this all off the right way. That was the only shadow hovering around her world of happiness.

There had been so many times throughout the day that she wanted to tell him the truth. But she had no way of knowing how he would react. She couldn't stand the idea of what he would think of her when she did. Best to just leave it alone, she continued to remind herself when the words were sliding up her throat and moving across her tongue. She didn't want anything to mar the magical time they were having together.

 

They returned to the hotel exhausted but happy, laughing and talking the entire way back about the sights they'd seen throughout the day.

“Tired of me yet?” Brice asked as they entered the lobby of the hotel.

She turned to look at him. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Good. Because I want to spend the rest of the evening with you. I made dinner reservations in the hotel restaurant, and then we can see what happens.” His gaze held her in place. Her pulse throbbed in her ears.

“I'd like that very much,” she managed to say.

“That's the answer I was hoping for.”

They crossed the lobby hand in hand and walked toward the elevators.

“Too bad we're on different sides of the hotel,” she said.

“And why is that, pretty lady?”

She turned to face him fully. “Makes it more difficult to tap on your door in the middle of the night.”

His dark eyes explored her face. “Who says we have to wait until the middle of the night?” His voice lowered and stirred the cauldron of heat that had been simmering in her center all day.

The elevator doors whooshed open and several people got off, laughing and talking, oblivious to the currents of tension that popped like downed electrical wires between Naomi and Brice.

The door began to close. Naomi took his hand and pulled him inside just in time. He backed her up against the far wall, his hands skimming her curves while his lips played teasing games with her cheeks, her nose, her fluttering eyelids, the plumpness of her parted lips.

Naomi sighed into his mouth, her internal heat combusting with his, causing a groan to rise from deep inside Brice. He stroked her cheek, ached to free her hair so that he could thread his fingers through it.

The bell dinged. They eased apart just as the doors opened. Brice stood in the threshold of the door while
Naomi walked out. She glanced at him when he fell in step at her side, disbelieving what she was about to do. This wasn't some romance novel fantasy that she was reading. She was the heroine of her very own fairy tale and she was about to make love to her very own hero.

They reached her door and she fumbled in her purse for her key card. Finally she managed to get it out.

“Here, let me.” Brice took the card and slid it down the slender opening. The door buzzed.

Naomi's heart hammered in her chest. What in the world was she doing? She nearly gasped when she heard the door shut behind them, and the enormity of what she was on the verge of doing closed in around them.

“Wait,” he said. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked searchingly into her eyes. “I know that we're both adults and this is a beautiful island and people can get easily swept up in the magic of it all.” He paused a moment when she stared into the same questioning look that she knew reflected her own, she believed that for Brice this was not just some quick sex with an available woman. It meant something and he wanted to be as sure about her as she was about him. “I just want you to know that this is not some casual thing that I do.”

She drew in a long breath. “Me, either,” she whispered and stepped inside.

For a moment they both stood in the center of the room—waiting.

“Umm, make yourself comfortable,” she said.

“Pretty nice place you have here,” he teased, hoping to ease the knot of tension that was choking them both.

She sputtered a nervous laugh. “I'm sure we have the same designer.” She drew in a breath. “Want something from the bar?”

“Sure, if the water is cold that would be great.”

She walked over to the small bar and unlocked it for the first time since her arrival, and was surprised at the array of contents: soda, liquor, water, chocolates, snacks. She took out two bottles of water and handed one to Brice, who had strolled out onto the terrace.

“Thanks. This really is a beautiful place,” Brice said, twisting the cap off of the bottle. He took a long, cool swallow. “I guess that's why I keep coming back.” He turned to her and leaned against the railing. “Or maybe I kept coming back in the hopes of finding something…or someone.”

Naomi swallowed. “Did you?”

“I'd like to think so, Naomi. I know we live hundreds of miles apart, but maybe we can work something out. Actually, if things go as planned I may not be that far away from you after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to jinx it. I'll know for sure in a few weeks. I'll tell you about it then. But no matter what
happens, I want to see you again.” He grinned. “In the real world—and see how it goes.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“As sure as I can be at the moment. And that's being perfectly honest.”

Honest
, a word that had been missing from her vocabulary since they'd met. The thought of finding a way to work out the distance between them was more than she could have hoped for. But the reality was that he wouldn't be visiting her in Florida.

“Brice, I…”

“Sssh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let's just see what happens, okay? No promises. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you if things don't work out.”

Her gaze danced over his face. She was so torn. What should she do? Tell him before it went further? Keep lying to him? She should have never listened to Alexis!

But all rhyme and reason was swept from her thoughts when he stole her breath with a searing kiss. She felt herself melting into the strength of his arms, transported on the bed of his lips, tantalized by the sweetness of his tongue that teased hers.

Her arms slid around his neck, his around her waist, pulling her closer so that there was no space, no air between them. His lips drifted down to the pulse in her throat and she trembled with delight. He nuzzled her there, nibbled, drifted lower to
the V-opening in her top, to savor the swell of her breasts.

Currents of energy ran in waves up and down the insides of her thighs, weakening her knees. If he was not holding her so securely, she was certain that she would drift to the floor like an unfastened skirt.

His hands moved slowly up and down her back. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts and she moaned in pleasure. He pressed closer to her and she felt the strength of his desire throb between her trembling thighs.

She felt light-headed and full of her own feminine power all at the same time, knowing that it was she who sparked Brice's longing. She wanted him. She wanted to know what he felt like beneath her fingers, inside of her.

She drew in a breath and eased back from his hold. She took his hands in hers and led him back into her bedroom. She pulled the drapes across the windows of the terrace, submerging the room into an intimate dimness.

Naomi boldly pulled her top over her head and tossed it to the floor, and even in the soft light she could see the burning in his eyes as he looked at her. Her chest rose and fell as she watched him draw closer. He reached behind her and loosened the clip that held her hair, and watched in admiration as it fell softly to her shoulders. Her ran his fingers through it, clasping the back of her head as he drew her to him.

A ragged groan tumbled across his lips as his mouth hungrily met hers. His fingers released her hair and trailed down her back. The snap of her bra opened and he slid the straps down her shoulders, then pulled it away from her body, tossing the white lace to the floor.

For a moment he was transfixed by her beauty: she was perfect, like something right out of his imagination. Reverently, he touched her as if she were more delicate and precious than fine china.

Naomi sucked in air through her teeth as the tender pads of his fingers stroked the rise of her breasts and grazed languidly back and forth over the dark nipples, awakening them into hard, needy buds. He lowered his head and brought one of the tender fruits to his mouth.

“Ohhh.” Naomi's head dropped back, her body instinctively arched and her eyes squeezed shut as he gently suckled one, then the other, then back again, until she thought she would go mad with desire.

Brice carefully eased her back toward the bed. Naomi felt the back of her knees make contact with the mattress. She tugged Brice down and they tumbled together onto the downy-topped mattress.

Naomi giggled in delight and wrapped her arms and legs around him. Brice pulled her flush against him before he dipped his head between the sweet mounds of her breasts. His hands caressed the tautness of her stomach, the dip of her waist, while his mouth seared her skin wherever it touched. She
writhed with pleasure, her soft moans stirring Brice beyond his wildest imagination.

His growing need for her pushed and pulsed against the confines of his slacks. Naomi reached down between their tightly knitted bodies and stroked the hard rise. Brice gritted his teeth, groaned with pleasure. It took total willpower not to rip the rest of her clothes from her body and bury himself between her silky thighs. But he knew he had to take his time, commit to memory every sigh, every move, every kiss—the feel of that first moment of intimate connection. More importantly he wanted Naomi to remember.

Naomi's slender fingers cupped him, massaged him until he could barely think clearly. As much as he thrilled to her touch, it would be his undoing. Reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and went to work getting her out of her shorts and her lace panties, until she was completely bare and lush before him. He took a moment to let his eyes and hands roll over her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. His only objective at the moment was to make love to every inch of her honey-colored skin.

“No, wait,” Naomi managed to say, as if coming up from under water. She pushed her palms against Brice's chest and flipped over to get out from under him. She sat up on her knees.

Brice didn't know what he had done wrong. This couldn't be happening. “Na—”

“Sssh.” She put her finger to his lips. A wicked
smile teased her mouth. “Why should I be the only one in the room with no clothes on?”

“Aw, woman, you had me there for a minute.” He pulled his shirt over his head, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks.

Naomi's stare was glued to his every move. Her nostrils flared as she watched him undress. He got off the bed and stepped out of his pants and then his shorts. Naomi drew in a short, sharp breath. He was perfection. Her clit jumped in response, and the welcoming wetness made her slick and ready. Their eyes locked onto each other. Brice came toward the bed. Naomi drew closer on her knees. Naomi stretched her arms toward him and he came willingly. The tips of her nails grazed across his chest then down across the hard-rippled stomach. She breathed deeply and took him into her palm. Brice's entire body stiffened as a wave of pleasure shot through him. Her hands were like warm butter as they slid up and down his length.

“Girl, girl, girl,” he groaned. “Ahhh.” He braced his palms against her shoulders and for a moment simply closed his eyes and let her do her thing. Until the pleasure began to overwhelm him. His breathing escalated. His erection was ready to burst. He clasped her wrist to stop her steady stroking.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining in the twilight. Her lips parted. Before she could react, Brice had her down on the bed, the weight of his body pinning her beneath him, her long legs spread
on either side of him. He supported himself on his forearms before he began his slow and deliberate conquering of Naomi Clarke.

Brice kissed her deeply, the play of his tongue with hers an erotic dance as old as time. He longed to be everywhere at once, but he wanted to taste her sweet skin. He let his lips and his tongue create a sizzling path, taking stops at her neck along the lift of her breasts, down the fluttering dip of her stomach, to hover for an instant above the seat of her sex. He gently spread her thighs and brushed his face against the soft down of her hair. Naomi shuddered. His lips and tongue grazed and caressed the insides of her thighs as he held her. Then his tongue flicked across the hard bud that danced to the tune he played with it.

Naomi gripped handfuls of the sheets, crying out as her body arched in pleasure.

Like candy he licked and sucked and licked and stroked, while Naomi rocked her hips against the mastery of his mouth—quicker, faster, as the sensations roared up and down her limbs. Her head spun, heat rose from her damp flesh. Her cries had dissolved to whimpers, begging for release.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and jagged. “Please.”

But for Brice it was the nectar of life, and hers was sweet and plentiful. He didn't want to stop. He thrilled at being able to bring her such pleasure. That's what making love was all about, bringing joy
to someone else. And as much as he didn't want to stop, he knew that he should.