Sex on Summer Sabbatical (9 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Oh, thank God,
Adam thought as he closed the bathroom door and quickly stripped down. He winced as he eased the zipper of his shorts down over the heated flesh barely contained by his smallest jock. Taking care not to hook his stiff erection as he pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, he stepped into the shower, already scoping out her products for something nice and slippery.

Citrus shower gel? He tested it between his fingers.
Perfect
.

Adam wetted down hastily, and quickly shampooed his hair and rinsed. Then he squirted a dollop of shower gel into his hand, worked up a lather and haphazardly soaped up and rinsed off before squeezing another palmful out.

His poor neglected cock jumped as he took it in his slippery grip. “Ahh,” he breathed aloud, before remembering he needed to be quiet. Mouth parted in an effort to get more air, he closed his eyes and pictured Tori as she’d been today, leaning back companionably against his chest while they’d watched the musicians from their blanket at the festival. The plunging V neckline of her woven cotton top had gaped, and with his bird’s-eye view from above and behind her, he’d caught a glimpse more than once of a surprisingly delicate pink tip. No bra. Something—the friction of the shirt?—had her nipples puckered every single time his gaze was drawn to them. And it was drawn often. From his voyeuristic vantage point, he couldn’t miss them, pressing outward against her lovingly clingy top, constantly hard.

Kinda like me
.

The image was working, and as he approached his climax, he masochistically paused for one last squirt of shower gel.

That was when the shower door opened.

Adam jolted in surprise, his jaw dropping as he took in the vision of Tori sans clothing. She was stunning, with those ever-perked nipples mouth-wateringly bare, and creamy skin everywhere. Unable to stop his eagerly wandering eyes, he had to take a deep breath as he watched her approach the shower, confirmed that, yes, she
was
looking at him with a predatory look in her eyes. Predatory…and hotter than hell.

He’d seen the difference her workouts over the summer had made to her extremities and her endurance. For the first time, he was seeing her core and the total physical picture, and he felt a moment of deep pride for her that had the blessed effect of taking the edge off his arousal. Along with that, her self-confidence had grown and she wore it well.

“So are you coming out, or am I coming in? Because it’s a shame to waste that”—she nodded at his unabated erection—“on my shower gel.” Her voice was husky but certain, her face glowing with admiration, and Adam knew he was sunk.

Firming his jaw with determination and trying not to let his disappointment show through, he finally gave in to all he’d been struggling against for the past couple of months. He just couldn’t fight it anymore. And if for some reason Tori stuck with her thought that this was a no-strings affair and this time was all he was going to get, Adam was going to make sure it was the best ever—for both of them.

He made quick work of rinsing and turning off the water. It was a struggle to keep from coming as he made sure all of the soap was off his cock.

Tori took a step backwards, tempting him from the shower with her body just out of reach. She smiled at him, but he couldn’t return it right away and he watched as her brow puckered. Must be picking up his vibe. Adam cleared his head of everything except how damn sexy she looked standing there, assured as could be. Once he’d relaxed, he didn’t have to fake the smile of appreciation he sent her way as he towelled off, unabashedly drying his balls and erection as she boldly watched.

Blindly tossing the towel over the shower door, he walked straight towards her, cock and hands making contact at the same time as he pulled her up flush against him. Her skin was so smooth and cool to the touch, it felt like sneaking a fingerful of whipped cream. Running his hands down her back to cup her full buttocks, he gave a heft and lifted a surprised but willing Tori off her feet. Without coaching, she instinctively wrapped her legs around Adam’s waist, hooking her ankles behind him as he walked them into the bedroom and straight to the bed.

Adam loved how petite and perfect she felt in his arms, but didn’t say anything—it didn’t seem like the time to speak. So he kept his enjoyment to himself, instead showing her without words how utterly alluring he found her as he bent his head to learn the texture of her nipple with his tongue. His months of pent-up imaginings were finally being set free, without constraint. She was beautiful and responsive as she arched and moaned beneath him.

Tracing
a hand down her trim abdomen then rounding the flare of her hip, he reached her silky thigh and
traced
back up her inner leg, unerringly finding the springy curls between her legs. A foray with his fingers found her slick and heated core, and it took every ounce of restraint not to bury himself inside her right then and there. Instead, he slipped downward, reluctantly leaving her breast and glancing up as he settled himself between her thighs.

Tori was in heaven. With her goal in sight, she couldn’t have cared less about her original plan to seduce him in order to meet all three objectives.
God, I’m an idiot. A geeky idiot
. She would burn those damn notebooks.

“Oh God,” she cried helplessly as Adam used his tongue to separate her folds while he spread her own juices up over her engorged clit. Like a bombshell, her climax hit without warning, faster than she would ever have thought possible.

“Yeah, babe. C’mon.” Adam’s encouraging moan against her clit was her first clue that he didn’t intend to stop any time soon. Holy crap, she didn’t know if she could take any more.

Alternately using his mouth and fingers, he tormented her while she shamelessly bared herself for his efforts, her new flexibility making her completely, erotically vulnerable to his attentions. As she soared over the precipice a second time, he licked and nibbled his way back up her body, paying torturous attention to her nipples as he used the glide of her juices to rub his erection right against her clit.

“Please!” she begged, and he slammed his mouth down on hers, sharing the taste of herself on his lips and tongue.

She threaded her fingers through his soft waves and held him to her as she deepened the kiss, inviting his plunder wantonly. Parting from her lips lingeringly, he raised his head to meet her gaze.

“I’ll be right back.”

Tori gaped until she figured out what he needed. “That drawer,” she pointed, and blushed as Adam withdrew the brand new box of condoms she’d about died buying. Who knew there were so many freaking kinds? Thankfully, a female pharmacist had taken pity on her and walked her through her options. “Are those okay?” she asked anxiously before mentally smacking herself.
Oh, c’mon
.

Fortunately Adam overlooked her wimpy question, looking down from where he knelt over her. “Perfect. Just like you.” He opened the box and extracted a packet, offering it to her and grinning as she shook her head frantically.

“You do it.”

Adam laughed. “You have a doctorate, and you’re scared to put on a condom.” He opened the foil and placed the disc against the tip of his cock, then startled her by grabbing her hand. “Here. I’ll hold the tip while you slick it down.” He waited patiently as she tentatively touched the edges of the roll, fingertips feeling the silky, firm heat beneath.

Adam’s breath caught. “C’mon, Tori.” He formed her hand into a sheath. “Now roll it down, more pressure. Ah. Yeah, that’s it.”

With growing confidence, she finally smoothed the condom in place and gave Adam a few more strokes for good measure. A slow smile of pure womanly power crossed her face, and she forgot to be nervous as he poised at her entrance, waiting for her complete attention as he slowly filled her.

Oh
. It had been years, but even then, it had never felt like this. Adam’s girth stretched her in a deliciously carnal way, but it was his utter focus on her, the loving attention he paid—watching every nuance of her expression—that made her come to a sudden realisation.

She had never been made love to.

But Adam was making love to her right then. Her summer fling was in love with her.

And I’m in love with him
.

Her breath shuddered from her, and she drove her hips up against him, needing to be closer, to affirm that he wasn’t going anywhere. Her urgency was contagious, and they surged together, trying to make up for all the lost time at once, trying to make it last. Tori felt herself breaking apart. Wanting—needing—to watch Adam’s face, she struggled to keep her eyes from closing with repletion. Her regard snared Adam’s attention, and as if it was the final blow to his control, he began to chant her name, then froze, braced above her.

Rocking a few erratic times before lowering himself gently atop her, Adam seemed in no hurry to leave. He wrapped himself around her and they drifted down together from their completion. The new and overwhelming emotions in Tori had her clinging to him—her rock of the past three months—seeking contact in a newfound need for reassurance.

Finally—reluctantly, it seemed—Adam separated from her to briefly clean up. Tori was gratified by the eagerness Adam showed in returning to his place in her arms. She held him close as she tried to think of a way to break the silence and say the things that needed to be said.

His question came as a surprise. “Would you be mad if I told you I know about the other sabbatical goal?”

Oh God
. Tori had to see his face. She pulled away just enough to make eye contact, but his carefully blank expression didn’t give her much to go on. “That’s not what this was all about,” she protested, then closed her eyes as she amended, “Well, maybe at first, but not tonight. Oh, Adam, do you hate me?”

The mask on his face cracked, and a hopeful but wary expression emerged. “Of course I don’t hate you, Tori.” He paused, searching her eyes. “I love you,” he added in a low tone, watching her closely.

Tori couldn’t keep back the surge of joy at his softly spoken words. “Oh.” She tackled him back against the bed. “I love you too.” She began kissing him, and he laughed as he cooperated fully in her attack, before folding her close against his heart.

The chronically curious part of her had to ask. “So. When did you find out?”

He cleared his throat. “Two months ago.”

“When you used the computer?”

He shifted enough to meet her eyes with a surprised expression. “Yes. How did you know?”

“You’d make a lousy spy. You put the notebooks back in the wrong order, you snoop.”

Adam smiled ruefully. “Do you hate me?” he tossed her question of earlier back at her with a confident smile.

She couldn’t even joke about it. “Of course I don’t hate you, Adam. I love you.” It was a playful echo of his response, but she seriously meant every word, and her heart soared as they met in a tender kiss.

“You did it, Tori. You made your sabbatical count.”

“We did it,” she corrected. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you.” She paused, adding impishly. “Oh, and I’ve put the notebooks with my
new
goals in them in a much better hiding place.”

Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Tropical Heat

Amanda Bretz

Excerpt

Chapter One

I squinted out of the airplane window. The way the sun glinted off the chrome propeller nearly blinded me. As the 747 taxied down the runway, the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign came on and I expelled a long, cleansing breath. I would have three days in Jamaica. Three days with my camera and the sun, sand and sea. Three days to unwind and forget about my life in Seattle. Three days of just me and my art.

* * * *

Surrounded by the cobalt ocean and the lush green hills, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. Jamaica was all that I’d thought it would be—and more. I closed my eyes and revelled in the sensations. The catamaran I was on swung and swayed to a rhythm that only it knew.

The sun burned on the breathtaking horizon. Thanks to the powerful early-morning light, the sea glittered clear to the bottom of the cerulean depths. I turned my head when briefly the calypso music stopped and the captain announced in his lilting island accent that we’d almost reached our destination.

Ocho Rios. We were almost there. As an artist I had spent the last ten years dreaming about visiting here, all of Jamaica, actually. Seeing the popular tourist destination of Ocho Rios had always been one of my deepest desires. The town was home to so much beauty.

The boat was en route to Dunn’s River Falls, and I couldn’t wait to experience the rush of the water, the absolute freedom of being one with the land as I explored the natural wonder. When I stepped off the boat dock and touched down in the soft sand, a hundred possible paintings flashed in my mind. The landscape that was set before me became my canvas. The beach at sunset with hues of tangerine, scarlet, turquoise and lavender. The beach at dawn when the sun kissed the shore good morning. The beach on a rainy day, with the turbulent churning of a navy blue sea against an angry, dark sky.

When I stepped a little closer to the falls, my heart pounded. The rushing water was so loud, I could barely hear my own thoughts. I stopped to stare at the unique rock formation. Nestled in the cliff just off the beach were the falls. The water cascaded down through large boulders, which resembled a jagged staircase.

Taking a step forward reverently, somewhat timidly, I dipped my head under the spray that emptied out into the sea and pulled back instantly. Despite the tropical weather, the spring-fed water coming from the falls was frigid. I paused to look around, wondering if everyone else on the beach was as shocked by the chilly waters as I was. Groups of American tourists shrieked and splashed around on the beach, while running back and forth between the waters of the deep blue Caribbean Sea and the crisp clear water from the falls.

The scene made me smile. I brought my camera’s viewfinder to my eye and began to snap pictures of the idyllic landscape.

I nearly gasped in surprise when I saw a shirtless bronzed Adonis jogging towards me. Even though it was an invasion of his privacy, I used the powerful zoom feature on my camera to get a better shot. I zoomed in further, closing in on his washboard abs. I swallowed hard. I’d heard of a six-pack, but the sexy hunk was sporting an eight-pack.

When he got closer, I twisted the lens and readjusted the zoom to focus in on his face. I clicked off a half-dozen shots in rapid succession as he ran towards me. His features were so stunning I knew he had to be some type of celebrity in Jamaica on vacation. Those eyes—they were the colour of warm caramel, and as he approached me, I could have sworn he was looking deeply into my own. God, he was gorgeous. I snapped one more picture of him as he jogged past me and it was all I could do not to follow him with my camera.

That would be stalkerish. I instead turned my attention back to what I’d come to Ocho Rios for. The falls. I crouched down to a squatting position to get some shots from a different perspective. Soon I was lost in the pattern of the rocks and the flow of the water.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” a deep voice beside me said.

I whipped my head so fast to the right that the beads on my braided head hit my neck with a stinging sensation. I winced in pain, but met the speaker’s gaze anyway. I was stunned when I saw that the stranger in front of me was my sexy jogger. He had come back. I tried hard not to stare at the way sweat trickled down his hard abs and collected in the waistband of his shorts. I was staring so intently that I had to remind myself that he’d asked me a question about the falls.

“Yes, if there’s a real stairway to heaven, it has to look like this,” I insisted as I snapped another picture.

“I think Jamaica is a small piece of heaven on earth,” he said in a soft, humble tone.

“I think you’re right,” I agreed. Taking pictures of nature was pointless while I had the attention of Mr Adonis. I snapped the lens cap of my camera in place. “Are you one of the tour guides?” I asked. I knew he was a local from his accent. I assumed he worked for one of the area resorts.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but I’m guessing from the braids in your hair and the way you’ve been looking at the falls you’re here on vacation.”

I blushed. “Is it that obvious?” I asked while I self-consciously patted my corn-rowed head. The braids had seemed like a good idea the day before. It was so hot in Jamaica compared to the Pacific Northwest.

“I think they look sexy,” he said, as he reached out and rubbed one between his fingers. My stomach did a flip-flop at his touch.

“I’m Marcus,” the hunk said and extended his gorgeous right hand. I had always had a habit of noticing a man’s hands. I extended mine also and his large, warm hand enveloped my own. “I’m not a tour guide, but I am a local, born and raised in Jamaica. I know as much about the falls as any of the paid guides, maybe more.”

“My name’s Rayne, it’s my mother’s maiden name and I’ve always hated it. It’s a long story,” I said and rolled my eyes. I stopped chattering long enough to use the opportunity to look at Marcus up close, without the interference of my viewfinder. I took in his rich brown skin, caramel-coloured eyes and muscular body. Nice. Very nice.

“Are you going up the falls? That will never make it if you are,” he said and looked pointedly at my camera.

“No, I hadn’t planned on it. This is my first, and only, day here. It’s the last stop on this group tour of Jamaica I am doing. I haven’t had nearly enough time to see all the sights. I realise now I would’ve been better off planning the whole trip myself. Live and learn, I guess,” I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. “This is the whole reason I came to Jamaica. I’ve always wanted to come to the falls, I’m a painter.” I stopped and looked down at the digital camera in my hand and added, “And a photographer.”

Marcus flashed a brilliant smile. “Wow. So there’s a possibility that I could be famous?” He must have seen the confusion all over my face because he added, “After you paint a portrait of me that will surely bring in millions of dollars.”

Either he was arrogant or he somehow knew about all those pictures I’d snapped of him while he had been jogging. Either way, I decided my best move was to play it ultra cool. I took an extraordinary amount of time removing my lens cap and focusing my camera before I answered him.

“And what makes you think that you’re a worthy subject anyway?” I asked as my shutter closed around the lush green foliage and rippling water.

“Touché,” Marcus said with a chuckle.

I paused from the task of snapping pictures to get another look at him. My eyes raked over the rippling biceps, the prominent cheek-bones and full, sensuous lips. He exuded a touch of a bad-boy air. I decided it had to be the mouth. No man could be a good guy with a mouth like that. I licked my lips and wondered what kind of magic Marcus’ mouth was capable of. I shook my head to try to get my mind out of the gutter.

“So, if you’re not a tour guide what do you do for a living?” I asked him.

“I work in the tourism industry here.”

I looked at him as if to say,
Aren’t you going to tell me more?
When he didn’t, I decided it didn’t really matter. Not yet, anyway.

“Maybe I can show you around,” he said as he pointed his head in the direction of Dunn’s Falls. “The falls are beautiful, but I know a few other places where you may want to get some pictures.”

Oh, if only he knew what kind of pictures I wanted to take. I could think of about a thousand, and all of them involved a naked Marcus.

“Okay, that would be amazing. What are you doing later on tonight?” I asked with a flirtatious smile.

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug.

“You want to grab some dinner with me? I’m staying at a resort here on the beach.”

“The big one, Sandals?” he asked.

“Mmhmm, how did you guess?”

“Just a gut feeling,” he said with a chuckle. He paused momentarily and pierced me through with irises the colour of fine, aged whisky. “So, Rayne, are all American women as straight-forward as you are?” Marcus asked with a smile.

“I don’t think so,” I said around a laugh. “Does it bother you?”

“No, it’s just a little different, but it’s refreshing,” he added. “I’m going to finish my jog. I’ll see you later tonight, how about at seven?”

“Okay, see you then. Nice meeting you, Marcus.”

“You too.”

As I watched him take off in a sprint, sand flying everywhere, I couldn’t help but notice his powerful calf muscles as he charged down the beach. On an impulse I focused my camera again and started snapping rapid shots of Marcus running down the beach. Damn, if all the men in Jamaica were as sexy as Marcus, I was in deep trouble.

Get your copy now