The Bikini Diaries (11 page)

"Shit," he murmured, his eyes gone glassy in the moonlight, clearly aroused. "What did you think about? Your body?"

"No." She shook her head, remembering. "More." '

"Tell me."

Tell him. She swallowed back her hesitation and said, "You, mostly. Vague thoughts.

You watching me. Then you fucking me. And your friend Pete." Oh
God, did I just say
that part?
Her first reaction to her own words was mortification, but her second was...

more of that new sense of freedom. She was putting it all out there, being a carefree

sexual being, right? Since when
had
she started holding back with him? And why? She wasn't going to do it any longer—at all.

"Jesus fucking Christ, really?" Brandon asked.

She sucked in her breath. "Should I not have told you? Is that a turnoff?"

"Uh, no. Just the opposite. It's hot as hell. What was happening in your fantasy? Both of us fucking you?"

She let out a sigh of relief. Because she wanted to do this now, wanted to tell him—all of it, no matter how wanton it was. "Something like that—both of you naked with me in the shower, sort of... taking turns with me. It was all vague, though. I had all those drinks at the beach, remember?"

At this, Brandon let out a hardy laugh, but then lowered his voice again to say, "Damn, bunny."

His very tone echoed through her chest, making her breasts achy. "Do you believe me now?" she asked. "That I'm a bad girl?"

He arched one eyebrow. "Getting there."

"Well, see if this gets you there," she said. "I want to suck your cock so bad right now I can taste it."

He let out a low moan and she loved it—loved that she'd told him her shower fantasy,

loved how much he turned her on, loved the amazing boldness he inspired in her. And

she suddenly did want to suck him, right here, right now, because his erection pressed

even more rigidly against her than before, stretching up between them like a granite pillar in his pants— and because if their pleasant dinner had dulled her sense of being a wholly sexual entity and nothing else, the last few minutes had restored it, taking her back to the animalistic place where she'd been last night, wanting to dive headlong into sin and

pleasure.

Brandon angled his mouth across hers in an almost punishing kiss, and even as it caught

her off guard, she liked the rough feel of it and met it with equal pressure. "Do it," he said against her lips.

"Mmm, I will," she purred into his mouth between kisses, "as soon as we're alone someplace."

He pulled back just enough to cast another chiding smile. "We're alone right now."

She couldn't help laughing a bit in response. "Just like we were alone in the water today?

Famous last words."

Looking over his shoulder while keeping her pinned to the railing, he said, "No one's anywhere near us—they're all on the main walkway between Sharky's and the marina."

She simply looked at him. Because she'd never in her life given a guy a blow job

anyplace more daring than a car, and even then, she'd been certain they were
very
alone.

Clearly sensing her indecision, Brandon braced his hands at her hips and smoothly

switched their positions until he was the one with his back against the railing. "I promise if anyone even starts in this direction, I'll stop you before they have a chance to see." All amusement had left his gaze now—it had gone hot, fiery... and oh-so-seductive. Then his

voice dropped an octave. "Now suck me. Suck my cock."

Heat infused her body at the command. In fact, it made her crave him, crave having him

in her mouth. The truth was, she'd never been that into giving blow jobs before, but

something about this hot game she'd created was pushing her into still new places. There for a little while, she'd felt like things were getting too soft between them, too much like a date, romance, and she'd found herself regretting the flowery sundress that made her look too much like she
usually
did. But now things were all the way hot again, and she felt driven toward total incineration.

So she dropped to her knees—another thing she'd never done with a guy—and ran

splayed hands up his thighs, focusing on the bulge in his khakis and listening to the hot sigh he emitted above. She began to work at his belt, zipper, pleased when, although still hidden behind dark silk boxers, the full column of his erection pushed free from the open pants.

She ran the flat of her palm over the silken length, listening to Brandon's low groan. And she wanted to please him so badly, wanted to excite him more than she'd ever wanted to

excite a man before. Yes, this dress had been a mistake. All hesitation on her part—of

any kind—had been a mistake. She wanted to be wild for him in every way, wanted to

prove to him, and herself, that she was just as naughty as she claimed.

Reaching inside the silk, she wrapped her fist around hot steel and released his jutting cock from his underwear. Oh God, the very sight of it—so close up—made her chest

contract, her heart beat faster. It looked even bigger from this angle, small veins lining the hard length, the rounded head dotted with moisture. Big, powerful. She could still feel the way it .had pumped into her last night, the memory turning her breath shallow.

Instinctually, she squeezed and caressed, aware of music and laughter in the distance yet feeling as if the darkness cocooned them. "So hard," she whispered into the sea breeze, then licked him, dragging her tongue from the bottom all the way to the top of the shaft.

She looked up at him as she reached the tip, swirling her tongue to lick away the pre-

come gathered there. She felt it in her pussy, and his low growl heightened the sensation.

His fingertips caressed her cheeks, raking back through her hair as he gazed down at her.

"Do it, baby," he prodded. "Go down on me."

Never in her life would Wendy have imagined that being in such a submissive position

could bring her so much pleasure. Never in her life had she enjoyed obeying a man's

commands. But the woman she had become in this game made all that different.

Opening wide and flattening her tongue against her bottom lip, she lowered her mouth

over the sizable head of his cock, and sank down. The sensation of taking him inside her that way barreled through her like hot liquid, racing down her throat, through her chest, making her gush with still more dampness in her panties. Above her, a ragged moan

escaped him as his fingers threaded through her hair. "God, baby, yeah," he said.

Then she simply closed her eyes and fucked him with her mouth. Up and down, again,

again, and deeper, a little deeper with each descent, making his length wet so that her lips slid more easily. Below, she grasped the root of his cock and fondled his balls, but

mostly, she just felt the way he filled her mouth and let delivering such pleasure bring
Her
more pleasure than this particular act ever had.

She tipped back her head as far as possible, yearning for him to watch her, wanting to

look obscene and hungry for him. She drank in his moans like a sweet, fueling elixir that pushed her further into passionate oblivion. When he began to thrust slightly, she wanted more—so she looked up at his face and hoped he saw that in her eyes.

With every passing second, she grew more intoxicated on pleasuring him, continuing to

feel amazed by his size and even more amazed that she could swallow so much of it.

Everything took on a sense of eroticism—the air around her was sweet with it, the sound

of laughter and music in the distance sang with it, even the way the hard wooden planks

beneath her bit into her knees somehow felt erotic.

"God, baby, good," he breathed above her. "You suck me so fucking good, honey."

She even liked that he held her head in place now, that she couldn't back off of his

erection if she wanted to, that he was virtually in control of her now. And the very

awareness of
liking
that filled her chest with a strange, heady pleasure... a certain self-knowledge... self-acceptance ... and full-on lust that she'd never felt before.

Above her, his breath grew heavy and when he plunged harder, deeper, between her lips,

she welcomed it, amazed by the intensity. Every nerve ending in her body responded as

she closed her eyes again and joyfully surrendered to letting Brandon fuck her mouth.

"Jesus God," he muttered above. "So damn good... so soft, wet... yeah, oh yeah."

She was lost in it, drunk on it—when Brandon whispered, "Shit," planted his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her abruptly to her feet. "Somebody's coming."

Dizziness assailed her, but she turned her head to see two young couples making their

way up the pier. They were talking, joking around, and seemed not to notice Brandon and

Wendy. She leaned into him to keep her balance, comforted from the jarring situation

when he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

As she got hold of herself, she glanced down to see his magnificent cock still arcing up between them, and couldn't help whispering, "How was
that?"

His voice came low, breathless. "I was about to come in your mouth."

"I would have loved that," she said without hesitation, even though she'd never let that happen with any guy before and had never particularly wanted to.

"I wanted to stop," he told her, "didn't want to get you messy out here, but damn, bunny, you suck me good."

Her chest tingled, and she'd never felt quite so flattered in her life. She didn't think any guy had ever complimented her on that before. But then again, she'd never gotten so into the act before, either.

"Let's go somewhere," she suggested. The two couples had stopped to look out on the water about halfway down their branch of the pier and would probably leave soon, but

she was tired of being interrupted. "Someplace private. Someplace where we can take our time and won't have to stop."

Heat laced his smile. "My place?"

"Race you to the golf cart."

They started to take off, hand in hand, when Wendy pulled up short, stopping them.

"What?" he said.

She looked down at his open pants. "Might want to zip up there, buddy."

"Jesus," he murmured, then reached down to stuff himself back inside his zipper, a task that looked fairly challenging given his size. Once he had his pants back together, he took her hand back in his to say, "What a dangerous little bunny. You make it so I can't even think straight."

"The sooner you get me to your place, the sooner neither one of us will have to worry about that anymore. Now let's go. I want to do things with you that..." But she faltered then, letting her voice trail off.

He flashed a sexy, inquisitive smile. "That what?"
Stop being sky. No hesitation.
"Things that I've never done before."

Normally, Brandon thought the golf cart was the best way to travel Emerald Shores, but

at the moment, the damn thing wouldn't go fast enough. Good God, Wendy was enough

to drive a man wild. It was bad enough he'd gotten all worked up with her in the water

today—and hadn't gotten to come. Now he'd nearly exploded in her mouth only to have

that stopped, too. He was starting to think she had a point about not fooling around

anyplace they could be caught, and that was what had him racing—as much as a golf cart

could race—to his penthouse condo right now. His cock throbbed like crazy in his pants.

Next to him, her cheeks were prettily flushed and her eyes glimmered with a lusty

anticipation that made him that much more eager. Was she a good girl or a bad one? It

was a conundrum he hadn't yet solved. Normally, he didn't sit around dividing chicks into categories—but she'd started the wheels turning in his head on this particular topic.

The dress said good, but the blow job definitely said bad. Whereas last night's dress had said bad, but something in her eyes had leaned closer to good. Today on the beach had

been the same—she'd worn a bad girl's bikini, but damn, she'd somehow looked so

innocent asleep in the sun.

And he liked the good girl part of her just fine, but at this moment, he was
way
into the bad. Or at least the
wanting
to be bad. Maybe something about a girl wanting to be bad was even hotter than the true bad girl. A girl who
wanted
to be bad had to let go of herself, had to let loose her inhibitions, had to reach deep down inside to find a new, dirty part of herself and release it.

When they reached his building, he led her quickly inside and onto an elevator. Alone

there, he couldn't help pulling her into his arms and making out with her as the elevator rose. Shit, if it was possible, the tongue kisses they exchanged made him even harder. "I want you so damn bad," he murmured in her ear, caressing the side of her breast.

"I can't wait to let you have me," she purred back.

Oh yeah, he liked the bad.

As they stepped into his penthouse, though, the mood changed, slowed down. Hell. He

supposed he should have expected it when her eyes went wide. "Wow, nice place," she said, taking it all in.

Maybe he should have warned her. But how do you say,
Prepare yourself I happen to be
pretty faking rich and I live in a
show-place? Just one of many reasons he seldom brought women back here—but with her, he hadn't thought twice about it.

"Thanks," he said.

She turned to give him a teasing smile. "Do
you
work for the mafia?"

A short laugh escaped him. "I thought we were leaving work out of this."

"We were, but this"—she motioned around her at the lavish furnishings in the open layout condo—"this bears some explanation, don't you think? How does a guy go from

putting out beach umbrellas in the summer to living here?"

He tilted his head, quirked a grin. "Let's just say I've... made fortunate choices."