Baddest Bad Boys (34 page)

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Authors: Shannon McKenna,E. C. Sheedy,Cate Noble

Tags: #Fiction, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #Erotica, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Adult, #Suspense, #Anthologies

BOOK: Baddest Bad Boys
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But there would be plenty of time to sleep next week.

 

He washed her as best he could without waking her, then dried her. Then he climbed in beside her and pulled her close.

 

 

 

Late the next morning Ellie showered and put on a two-piece swimsuit. Max had promised to show her the island’s waterfall.

 

She felt sore but satisfied. And wanton. They had made love twice during the night and again at sunrise. Afterwards she’d fallen into an unbelievably deep sleep.

 

Her nervousness about doing it was gone. In its place was a worry about not doing it. What would she do when their week was over?

 

Don’t think about it. Her time with Max had barely begun. And she didn’t want to waste one moment fretting about the future. For now, she’d simply take everything he would give her.

 

She found him downstairs, on the patio, talking on his cell phone. He disconnected as soon as she walked out, but still she frowned. Out of nowhere came a feeling of possessiveness. This was her week, damn it. Or was it?

 

She paused, realizing she thought in terms of 24/7. Had she misunderstood the terms? Perhaps Max thought only the nights were for them?

 

“Do you need to work this morning?” she began.

 

He climbed to his feet and held out a chair for her. “Yes and no. I’m trying to keep the interruptions to a minimum, but a couple emergencies have popped up. I’ll need to keep my cell within reach.”

 

“Emergencies—plural? Sounds serious.”

 

“Urgent. Actually, my staff is handling most of it, which gives me a new appreciation for their capabilities. Coffee? How did you sleep?”

 

“Fine. And yes to coffee.” The way he morphed from talk of business to personal matters amazed her. Or did he view his time with her as just another business transaction? A deal? Was zipping from the bedroom to the boardroom part of his everyday routine?

 

“I noticed you’re not limping this morning,” he said. “Is the foot better?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

He had picked up a carafe and filled her cup. “There are pastries in the basket. Or, if you prefer, I’ll whip up an omelet.”

 

“I usually skip breakfast, though an omelet sounds great for lunch.”

 

He refilled his own coffee, then settled opposite her again. “Seeing as it’s one o’clock, anything you eat qualifies as lunch.”

 

“I never sleep this late.” Of course, she never stayed up half the night making love, either.

 

Max winked. “I haven’t been up that long myself.” He grabbed a croissant, slathered it with butter. “By the way, I spoke with Gerard. The door at the beach house was repaired this morning. He hired a private security firm to look after the place until you get back and can review the new alarm system he’s recommending.”

 

“Private security? Does he think the guy will return there?”

 

“I won’t take that chance. The intruder was able to override your alarm and its backup system with ease.”

 

Ellie sipped her drink. “I wonder if I’ll ever feel secure there again.”

 

“Yes, you will, eventually. You do have to start taking security more seriously. Even after this bastard is caught.”

 

“And do you think the police will catch him?”

 

“Yes. Allowing them to access your e-mail account will help. Speaking of which, if you send e-mail, or make calls from here, it’s important that you don’t give your location or mention that we’re together. I’m working to keep news of the break-in out of the press, too.”

 

For security reasons? she wanted to ask. Or general publicity? Was Max worried about what others would think of their deal?

 

She pushed her cup away.

 

“If you’re done,” Max said, “I’d like to show you the island.”

 

 

 

As it turned out, Ellie only saw half of the island.

 

“The guest houses are the only things on the far end,” Max said.

 

They were in the golf cart again. He turned off the beach and drove along a neat path that twisted beneath the canopy of trees. He stopped at a small clearing. “This is what I wanted you to see. What do you think?”

 

Her eyes widened, trying to take it all in. At first glance, the small lagoon looked ethereal. The water was a brilliant aqua green, and a slight waterfall gurgled melodically at the far end. She half expected fairies to fly by. She spotted the pots of orchids. The area’s natural beauty had been enhanced with several types of flowering plants and trees.

 

“It’s phenomenal,” she said. “Someone on the island has a green thumb.”

 

“Tyler.” Max helped her out of the cart.

 

She followed Max to the water’s edge and watched as he spread a blanket in the shade. They hadn’t brought a basket, so the blanket wasn’t for a picnic. At least not one that involved food.

 

Was sex all she thought about? She turned toward the water to divert her thoughts. The pool was crystal clear and looked shallow. “Is it warm enough to swim?”

 

“Let’s find out.” Max peeled off his trunks, freeing his erection.

 

Ellie found it impossible not to stare. Maybe she wasn’t the only one with a thinking problem.

 

He moved close and tugged at the string ties of her swimsuit top. “You saw the sign: No suits allowed.”

 

Her top fell, baring her breasts.

 

“What sign?”

 

He tugged her bottoms free. “The one that’s going up tomorrow. Come here.”

 

She stepped closer, taking pleasure in the desire etched in his expression. The man was like a drug, and she was an addict. He picked her up and waded into the water. The center of the pool was deeper than she had guessed, nearly to Max’s chest. They swam the length twice, the first time in a race. The second time in a chase.

 

Max caught her near the waterfall and kissed her. Excitement and anticipation swelled inside her chest. They were both panting now, and not just from swimming. Her arms were looped around his neck. Under water, she pressed her pelvis against his erection. The question wasn’t if they’d make love. It was when. Where.

 

Max coaxed her toward the shallow water beside the waterfall. He lifted her, sitting her on the bank, while he remained in the water. He pressed his hands to her knees, opened her.

 

Ellie felt an instinctive shyness at being displayed in broad daylight, but it quickly disappeared as his fingers stroked her.

 

“You’re wet,” he said.

 

“That happens when you swim.”

 

He laughed, his hand moving more intimately against her. He inserted a finger into her. “Are you going to tell me that swimming makes you hot and horny, too?”

 

She moaned, wanting more. “No.”

 

“Mmm. But you are hot.” His thumb sought her clit, massaging it, lightly at first, then increasing the pressure until she bucked forward and grabbed his shoulders. He slid another finger up inside. Then he leaned in, licked one nipple and pulled away. Purposely holding back. Teasing her. The man was relentless.

 

“’Fess up, El. If swimming didn’t make you hot, what did?”

 

“You make me hot, Max,” she admitted. “Only you.”

 

“Good. Hold on.”

 

10

 

The man sat outside, on the café’s patio, sipping coffee while staring at his laptop’s screen. Like all hotels these days, the one he currently stayed at offered Wi-Fi, but he’d come here because it was close to the docks. His gaze swept the crowded café, a favored spot amongst tourists waiting to take one of the day cruises that departed Charleston harbor.

 

He set his cup aside and scrolled through the latest online version of Hot Life. The tabloid promised that its upcoming print edition—hitting newsstands in one week!—would feature an exclusive interview with Il Diavolo. The headline hinted the story would set straight all the rumors swirling about him, his former sister-in-law Ellie DeLuca, and socialite Bridgette St. Regis.

 

There were teaser photographs of Max DeLuca boarding his private jet in Boston, and disembarking from that same jet in New Zealand. He studied the photographs. Neither one was current. An aerial shot of the fabulous DeLuca compound near Auckland had an overlaid sketch indicating where a tent might be erected. Celebrity Wedding? the caption read.

 

Nice trick, he admitted grudgingly. Someone—his client, most likely—had handfed this news to Hot Life. As expected, the paparazzi had flocked to Auckland. Fools. Only he knew the truth, that Max DeLuca had Ellie sequestered on San Regale.

 

Once again he wondered about the inside source his client had. He wouldn’t have found Ellie this quickly on his own.

 

A waiter drifted close, offering to refill his coffee. He shook his head, then took one last look at the tabloid’s photographs. Time to go.

 

“Soon, Ella-baby.” He closed his laptop and prepared to leave, his mind ticking off items on a mental checklist. He’d already found the perfect place to take her. A quiet cabin, in the middle of nowhere, two hours north. He still had a few supplies to get. Rope. Latex gloves. Food. They’d be there at least a day, until he made certain his final payment hit his account. Then the real fun would begin.

 

11

 

Max carried Ellie back to the blanket and gently lowered her. Determined to take his time, he hovered over her and kissed her mouth, long and slow. Then he nuzzled her neck, easing his way toward one of her breasts.

 

Her fingers were tangled in his hair, stroking, encouraging. They tightened in tactile approval when he started sucking.

 

After a minute, he switched to her other breast, laving that nipple with his tongue. Ellie writhed beneath him, her thighs squeezing his cock in a tempting, sensual massage, trying to rush him. Except Max refused to be rushed.

 

He released her nipple. His mouth made wet noises as he pressed kisses along the underside of her breast before trailing down to her navel.

 

He heard her sharp inhalation as his tongue delved and swirled before he dipped lower still. With teasing bites, he nipped the tender skin of her lower abdomen. His hand cupped her core, parting her, as he moved his body downward. He shifted his hands, reached beneath her buttocks, lifting her. The musky scent of her readiness perfumed the air.

 

Max blew softly across her damp curls before closing his mouth. His tongue drew over her, lapping at the sweetness. She tasted like heaven.

 

Ellie bucked, her movements frantic. “Max! Wait, I—”

 

He paused and looked up, his mouth bare inches from her flesh. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m just afraid I’ll…climax too soon.”

 

He started to say, so come, then realized the real reason she was nervous. They were having sex outdoors, in broad daylight. He sought to reassure her. “No one can see us.” He eased back, but only slightly, and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee.

 

“We’re safe here, Ellie, okay?” He pressed a kiss lower, to the inside of her mid thigh.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Relax.”

 

She did. He lowered his mouth and felt her fingers brush his scalp. Her trust humbled him. He took his time. Soon she was thrusting beneath his hands, restless. Raising slightly. Eager for more.

 

He gave it. He licked, nibbled, feasted. She made sexy little noises and arched herself against his face, her hands holding him in place now. Encouraged, he pressed two fingers up inside her again, probing and stroking while his tongue teased her.

 

She shuddered, her breathing erratic. “If we keep this up, I’m going to lose it.”

 

He raised his head, looking at her as he eased a third finger inside of her. She squirmed against his hand, seeking pressure, needing relief. Needing an orgasm.

 

“Then lose it, El. I’ve got you.” He dropped his mouth back to her and increased the pace, until her body tightened beneath his mouth.

 

Then he gently bit her, just barely catching her clit between his teeth. She screamed his name as a climax shattered her.

 

 

 

The ringing of a cell phone startled Ellie. She lifted her head and watched as Max pushed up and stalked toward the golf cart.

 

The thought of taking his cell phone and tossing it in the water was tempting. And judging by the look on his face, she’d guess he might let her. Maybe she’d even suggest it.

 

She pushed up on her elbows, debating about getting dressed. She studied Max, her eyes drifting lower, to his cock. His erection looked painful, straining straight out from his body. Damn. He’d been so focused on her that he hadn’t come yet.

 

She narrowed her eyes, thinking about turning the tables on him for a change. About being more assertive. More aggressive.

 

She climbed to her feet slowly and walked up to him. He motioned her closer. He spoke in clipped monosyllables, then mouthed the word sorry and held up one finger, indicating she should wait.

 

Oh, I’ll wait, she thought. On you.

 

He was distracted again. Until she dropped to her knees. That got his attention. She paused to see if he discouraged her.

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