Good Vibrations (Welcome to Paradise) (3 page)

My phone buzzes as we walk to the car. Deciding to ignore these typical girly feelings swirling inside of me at the sight of this too cocky boy actually getting his way with me, I answer the call. "Hi," I say thrilled to hear from Sunny while sliding into the leather seat.

"Mallory, I love
youuuuuu
."

Shaking my head, I close my eyes knowing she has to be on some strong meds for her to sound this out of it. "How's your hand?"

"My hand?" Silence takes over until she blurts into the phone. "Yes, my hand! It's good. I'm feeling no pain at all. Now I’m going to sleep with Johnny."

“What?”

"Mallory?" A strange male voice comes over the phone.

"Um, yeeesss?"

"Hi, this is Johnny. I’m a friend of Sunny’s. We work together." He releases a shaky breath then explains, "She’s on pain meds and a little out of it. I know she feels terrible about this happening on the same day as your arrival. Are you settled in? Do you need anything?"

So this Johnny guy is with Sunny and it makes me wonder if she’s safe. He seems friendly and she trusted him enough to have him at the hospital, so I guess I have to as well. "I'm fine. I'm, uh…out with a friend right now. I don't think I need anything, but if I do, I’ll manage and I'll take care of it. What can I do for Sunny?"

“She’s good. Falling asleep right now. I'll have her at my place for the night. Don’t worry, the doc told me she’ll pass out before the car ride ends.”

“Don’t touch her—”

“I would never take advantage of her. She couldn't drive, and the doctor wanted her to be supervised because of the medicine, so she asked if she could stay with me before he dosed her. She’s told me a lot about you. Guess I’ll finally get to meet you tomorrow."

The name Johnny finally connects in my head when I recall her mentioning him to me and saying they were close. "Yes, she mentioned you, too. Okay, so you're sure about taking care of her tonight because I can do that?"

"She’s no trouble. A little mouthy sometimes,” he says, laughing. “But harmless.”

“That sounds like Sunny all right.”

“Welcome to Hawaii. Oh, and call this number if you need to reach either of us."

"Thanks. I will."

After I hang up, I realize that my plans just dramatically changed. Perhaps it’s fate that has made me available for the remainder of the day. I turn and look at Evan, trying not to get caught, which is difficult when he's already staring at me. He smiles softly, with kindness, no trace of smugness in it at all. I smile then announce, "Is your offer still good?"

The smirk quickly returns and he floors the gas pedal. I guess I got my answer.

Chapter 2

Evan pulls up a long drive that leads to a mansion. Considering his cocky attitude, he would probably only call it a house. After parking to the left, near a paved walkway, he gets out and opens my door. With a nod over his shoulder, he says, "C'mon. It's this way."

The path is shadowed by the house, giving way to an expansive view of the ocean. My breath catches and I’m in awe of the beauty of this vista. Wanting to take a closer look, I stop next to the large pool. Between where I stand and the ocean is a guesthouse with huge windows. And here I thought they only had those on trendy teen dramas.

"I live back here," he says, leading me to the guesthouse.

I roll my eyes
. Of course, he does.

He slides the glass door open, and I walk inside. My mouth drops open in awe of the view through the two large windows overlooking the ocean. The sun is setting, which creates a glow that surrounds us making the view even more spectacular. "I can see why this is your favorite place."

He takes me by the hand, causing my heart to skip a beat… or three. His hand is warm and strong, his confidence felt as his pulse beats against my stuttering one. Pausing, he does a minute shake of his head then continues toward the back door with my hand still tucked neatly in his. When the door is opened wide, the breeze flowing through the large room, combined with the view, and the company of a bewildering boy, sets my head spinning.

"I'll be right back," he says, leaving me alone with this natural beauty.

I sit down on the step that leads to the grass, unable to imagine any place better than this. The word paradise could easily be overused if I spent a regular amount of time here. This place is perfection come to life. Until he sits down next to me, and hands me a glass of white wine. That’s when my perfect world gets even better. The wine choice surprises me. "I didn’t take you for a wine guy." I sip.

"I like to enjoy a good glass now and again. But, shhh, don't tell anyone." He laughs at his joke.

I laugh at the whole set-up. "Wine with this view, Evan? I'm sure there are not many girls who haven't had this move played on them. I think your secret might already be out."

He shakes his head, disappointment coloring the defined features of his face and his tone. "Can we drop the games and just enjoy each other’s company? I'm not going to lie to you, remember? I think it's fairly obvious that I find you attractive. You're pretty and smart. I like that. Sometimes that combo is not easily found." He chuckles to himself while swirling his wine in the glass. "Or ever." The last part is just a whisper, but I hear him.

Before I can respond, he looks at me and says, "I'm gonna overlook that biting charm you use to feel secure because I can tell it's not the real you." He stands up and walks a few feet ahead of me, staring at the ocean.

I stand, but I don't join him. Leaning against the house for support, I debate whether I should be insulted or not—no matter how true his assessment of me is. Even if I’m slightly offended, I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s athletic, his shoulder muscles highlighted by the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

I down two gulps of wine, needing the respite it provides.

He turns around and looks me in the eyes, puzzled, as if he doesn’t know what to do about me. Then he’s in motion, rushing forward, his mouth crashing into mine. There's no asking and definitely nothing polite about this kiss. It's needy—he's needy—and I inwardly smile that I've made Mr. Smooth desperate for me. My body reacts and I become just as needy in return. I wrap my arms around his neck without warning, struggling to hold the wine glass in the other. When our tongues meet, he backs me through the open doorway, taking my glass from my hand. I'm dazed, lost in desire for his sexy, heated body against mine. His hands glide over my ribs and down my hips then back up to the sides of my breasts where they linger.

My breathing picks up, the anticipation for what’s to come, building deep within me.

His palms squeeze lightly, pushing my breasts closer together as his hands grip me tighter, grounding me to the spot and to him. His tongue is gentle, unlike when his lips first took possession of mine.

I let my hands roam up his shoulders and toward the back of his neck and push my fingers into his incredibly sexy hair. Just from the little kissing we've done, I don't want to leave him either, now sympathizing with the girl at the airport. I open my eyes to sneak a peek at the Sex God I'm making out with and am once again beaten to the punch. His eyes, though hooded with desire, are already watching me. Clamping them shut again, I moan. "Oh, Evan."
Wait, what? Where'd that come from?

He takes that as a sign to continue, which makes me realize how much I want this to happen—how much I
need
this to happen. It's been too long and… well damn, look at him. His face alone turns me on, so I start to appreciate it with my mouth. I hear him groan internally and I can't help smiling again at the carnal pleasure I derive from that sound.

Kissing down my neck, he stops and asks, "What? What are you smiling about?"

I sigh, answering him despite the sex drunk state I'm currently in. "This feels so good."

A smile flashes across his face before exploring my jaw with his mouth, leaving a wet trail across my skin. "This?"

"
Um
, yeah, that."

He reaches the base of my neck, and his warm tongue traces the curve of my collar bone. "How about this?" he asks.

I nod enough to encourage him to slide his hands down my body as he continues his kissing journey. Even though I’m taking all he's giving, I still want more.

"And this?" he asks, teasing with the tip of his tongue flexed flat on my skin.

I don't even bother with an answer because my body's response is answer enough. His hand slides between my legs and rubs roughly up and down, twice, before leaving me well bothered and craving more.

His words are just a whisper, his breath hot against my ear. "What about—"

"
Yes! Jesus!
Evan, right there,
especially there
!" My voice is screechy, not even recognizable to me. The word wanton comes to mind.

"
Okay
, settle down. I was just asking," he says, but I can hear the playfulness in his tone.

My hands work their way down his backside, his muscles flexing under my touch. I take the open invitation and squeeze his ass.
Oh good lord, why'd I do that?
It's fantastic, hard and rounded. Images of seeing it move up and down as we have sex fuels a surge of ultimate boldness.

My words sound more like a demand than a request. "Take off your shirt." Maybe they are.

His lips stop on my cheek, his hands pause on my waist just under my shirt, and he leans back away from me. With a furrowed brow, he asks, "What kind of guy do you take me for, Mallory?"

"I'm hoping a guy who can back up that bad boy reputation you’ve worked so hard to create."

His hand graces my face and he places a sweet kiss on my forehead. "Oh, baby, I can back it up. Don't you worry your little cotton panties about that. But, I'm a firm believer in
ladies first
."

His cockiness is growing on me and I'm starting to think he probably
can
back it up. His hands reach the bottom hem of my shirt and he starts slowly pulling it up, never losing eye contact.

It’s too slow for how much I’m revved up. Feeling confident, I take the shirt into my own hands, lift it over my head, and toss it onto a nearby chair. In these situations, which hasn’t been many times, I usually hide a little, but I don’t want to here. He allows me to feel good about my body. I’m fit, not an athlete and there’s a softness to my curves.

He quickly follows, lifting his shirt off and tossing it to the floor. His abs are not bulky like bodybuilders. His are defined and strong, more natural in form, probably from sports and a healthy lifestyle. I run my fingers over his stomach again as he kisses me with passion. If I allow myself, I might venture to say it's laced with deeper developing emotions.

We continue with our lips freely occupying the others and our hands deceptively close to operating on their own accord. I can sense that I'm already in too deep. All I can do is pray that I'm as strong tomorrow as I am right now, here in this moment.

He unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my pale legs. Kneeling, he remains eye level with my center, leaning gracefully forward, his nose and mouth land on the apex of my thighs. My mouth drops open in shock as my middle heats up. My right eyebrow shoots up when I hear him inhale and then feel his hot breath released back onto me, my knees weakening at the sensation. He slides his nose against my wet panties and upwards not stopping until he lands between my breasts.

"This won't do at all," he says, unfastening the bra as if he's done it a million times, which he probably has.

My back is arching my exposed chest toward him, an offering he’ll hopefully accept. The playfulness has disappeared, only to be replaced with a lustful burden. A crease forms across his forehead, backing my intuition. He kisses me quickly to cover then says, "Let's move to the bed."

Taking me by the hand, he leads me to his platform bed that sits as the dominant feature in the open space. We stop at the edge and he strips his own jeans off before we slowly lay down together. Looking at each other, we study, learning the other’s features. His leg slides between mine. His are long and muscular, and I wonder if he plays soccer or tennis.

He looks me over, taking one of my breasts in his hands and kneads. “You’re incredibly sexy,” he says.

I have a decent sized chest, average, I suppose, but he seems satisfied and his words make me feel beautiful. Eyeing each other without a word, we give one last out of this unexpected turn of events. Neither of us takes it and we move closer, our bodies tangling.

He rolls on top of me, taking the lead and suddenly we’re moving together, intense pleasure I'd long forgotten building quickly. Our kisses are fevered and we moan in unison pushing the other towards our mutually desired goal.

Evan’s tongue enters my mouth, and unlike the frenzy we felt moments earlier, this time it caresses mine. His hands glide along the side of my body then stop and gently play with the back of my knee. He pulls it up, wrapping his arm around my thigh and holding it against his side. This new position makes me squirm with desire, needing more.

My mind focuses on his fingers tucking under the sides of my panties as he continues trailing wet kisses down my body, over my hips, as he removes my panties.

Lifting up abruptly, he stands at the base of the bed, his eyes locked on mine while he removes his black boxer briefs. Black equals bad boy.
Will wore white.

I prefer the black.

My breathing deepens as anticipation starts to peak. He lowers himself back down, hovering over me. A small smile reveals his appreciation of my body beneath his.  I've never felt more confident or comfortable being naked in my life, and I briefly consider leaving on this high. But knowing his history with women, I’m curious as to what makes them cry when they have to leave him. I have a strong suspicion it's related to his skills in bed. As a matter of fact,
I'm counting on it.

On his hands and knees above me, he lowers himself down, resting his body lightly on top of mine as he kisses me again. Our lips part and we look at each other. I can’t hide the fire I feel for him as his erection presses against my center, adding the fuel that makes me heat and lust for more—more contact, more sensations, just more of all of him.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks although we both are well aware that no woman ever says no to him.

I try for casual. "Never more." I don't know how I sounded, but he definitely gets the message. His lips find mine with more pressure, but yet still gentle in their quest.

He pulls back and stretches toward the nightstand, pulling the drawer open to retrieve a condom. Sliding down my body, he kneels between my legs, taking the packet between his teeth, and ripping it open. As I watch him put the condom on, I realize I hadn't taken in the full view properly. His cock is larger than I've had inside me before and I’m daring enough to think it’s handsome.
Wow!
I can’t believe I just called
it
handsome.