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  She wanted him to kiss her. No, more than that. She ached for the feeling of his big arms around her, for his lips on hers. It had been so long since she’d been held by a man. But he’d warned her he couldn’t get involved, that he was leaving soon, and she’d be flying home, back to work and her research in just a couple of days. There was no future for them, and suddenly she didn’t care. She’d never felt so reckless. She wasn’t Caylee tonight; she was a brand new woman who wore high heels and sexy clothes. This moment was all that mattered. She needed to be in his arms. What was he waiting for? Caylee pressed against him and lifted her face to his.

  When his mouth finally crushed against hers, Caylee closed her eyes, the sensation of his lips so powerful it felt as though she were melting into him. Her legs were so weak it was only the pressure of his arms around her that held her up. He kissed her tenderly, gently, and she kissed him back hungrily, entwining her tongue in his. When he felt her response, Blake groaned softly into her mouth, answering her passion with a hunger of his own. His hardness pressed into her body. His need for her, his wanting, was obvious.

  His hands ran down her back, pressing her against him. Her body was on fire, responding to his touch. She wanted him so badly she ached with it. Her skin felt stretched tight with the force of her wanting—her belly, her mouth, her breasts. Her nipples were hard points straining against the thin silk of her slip.

  “Caylee.” His voice was husky as he pulled his face from hers. “This can’t happen. I’m leaving soon. I have to go to Indonesia on Saturday.”

  “I know. It’s all right, Blake. I still want…” But she couldn’t say what she wanted—the words caught in her throat. She dropped her mouth to his chest and kissed the paper airplane instead. It was plain what she wanted. Couldn’t he tell how powerfully her body burned for him?

  His arms tightened around her and, with no effort at all, he scooped her up off her feet, carrying her toward the bedroom. As he went, she kissed his throat, his chest, anywhere her lips could reach. When he got to the bed, he eased her down slowly, bending down with her, his lips finding hers as he placed her on his rumpled bed cover.

  He kissed her deeply, thoroughly. Finally he drew back so he could stand by the bed and look at her as she lay in the glow of moonlight that came in through the window. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he said. His voice was irresistible, low, with that rich depth that made her shiver.

  Caylee drew herself up on her elbows to see him better. He was the beautiful one. The moonlight picked out his features, highlighted his muscled perfection. She’d never felt like this before, so aroused, so caught up in a wanting so strong that nothing else mattered. Her slip was rucked up and she wore nothing underneath it, but she didn’t feel shy or embarrassed. She wanted him to see her. She wanted to rip off his boxer shorts and unleash the hardness straining at the front of them. She wanted him to quench the urgent thirst pulsing between her legs.

  Blake knelt on the bed beside her and kissed her neck hungrily, his mouth moving down her collarbone to the top of her slip. His hands cupped her breasts through the silky fabric, sending a pulse of pure longing through her. Why did she still have the slip on? She tugged down the straps, but he caught her hands, stopping her from tearing it off.

  “Not so fast,” he murmured. “We’re not going to rush this, Caylee. We’re going to do it right.”

  When he bent over her again, she could feel the strength of his passion in the way he threaded his hand into her hair and pulled her head back so he could claim her mouth. Then his lips moved under her jaw and around to the sensitive place beneath her earlobe, the place that brought up goose bumps across the back of her neck and down her spine. Finally he caught the front of her slip and eased it off her breasts infinitely slowly, aching millimeter by aching millimeter, while she lay trembling with desire. She closed her eyes as the silk fabric dropped from her breasts. Her nipples were so hard it was almost painful. When she felt his cool breath blow across one of them she groaned and fisted the sheets to keep from forcing his mouth onto it.

  Finally his tongue flicked across her nipple, and then he was kissing it and licking it and all she could do was lie back with her hands twined in his hair and let the waves of sensation build up until she could hardly bear it.

  The silk slip was pushed down around her middle and when Blake lifted his head and looked down, Caylee thought he might pull it off her. Instead he dropped lower so he could kiss her thigh. Her legs were already parted for him, and she was swollen and aching. His hands stroked her legs as his lips and tongue worked slowly up toward her inner thigh, his breath tickling her bare skin, his lips soft, his tongue making circles that moved ever upward.

  Caylee grabbed the bed cover with both hands, squeezing clumps of it in her fists as Blake’s tongue inched higher. Her skin was on fire, the nerves alight as his tongue reached the very top of her thigh. Her legs were spread, her breaths coming in quick shallow gasps. She’d never felt anything so intense as the feeling of his mouth hovering tantalizingly close to her most private parts, close enough that his breath puffed warm against her. A brush of air sent shivers all over her. He waited for a full, unbearable moment.

  His tongue finally grazed across her aching, ultra-sensitive bud. The sensation was so strong, she cried out. Then his mouth closed over it, and her cry turned into a moan of pleasure. She arced her back, offering herself to him as he licked her, at first with long gentle strokes, then flicking featherlight, fast and sure. His hands touched her thighs, stroking across her skin, his fingers sending shivers over her, making her gasp.

  One hand pushed her slip farther up so he could stroke the curve of her belly, the other found the place between her legs where she needed him, where she longed to be filled by him. His finger pushed inside her while his tongue lapped at the sensitive nub of tissue where the pressure was building, where she felt like she would explode.

  She opened her legs wide, moaning as his finger drove into her, as his mouth sucked and licked and worked at her. Her hands twisted in the bed sheets, her head arced back, her moans of pleasure coming harder and louder with each stroke of his tongue, each thrust of his hand. Like a lake rising, then spilling its banks, the sensation grew too strong to be contained inside her. She screamed as the pleasure burst free in long, shuddering waves of sensation that flooded out from between her legs and rippled through her entire body. Wave after wave tumbled her, left her panting, moaning her release. Her hands moved to his head and she gripped his hair, holding on for dear life as the storm slowly ebbed away.

  His fingers eased out of her and his tongue was featherlight on her mound, barely touching her, his lips grazing her with just the lightest kiss. His hands stroked her belly, calming the aftershocks that trembled through her, the lingering trails the storm had left in its wake.

  Then his hands moved slowly, gently down to her thighs, stroking her skin lightly enough to raise goose bumps. The softness of his tongue stroked her, raising another ripple of sensation in a place she’d thought was drained and exhausted. She raised her head and looked down at him, and from between her legs he looked back, his blue eyes sparkling, a smile spreading on his half-hidden lips. As she watched, his tongue reached out for her again, tickling against her tender, sensitive clit, drawing a gasp from her.

  “No, Blake, no, I can’t…” But his tongue was on her again and all at once, incredibly, that delicious, insatiable pressure was there once more, starting again from between her legs, where she wouldn’t have believed she could feel it again after being so completely spent.

  He drew away slowly, looking up at her with a question in his eyes, but at the same time his fingers found where she needed them to go and they took the place of his tongue, stroking her.

  “Should I stop?” he asked, but her sounds of pleasure were all the answer she could give him.

  Without stopping his fingers, he moved up the bed until he could nuzzle at her breasts. He kissed the sensitive skin underneath her nipple—lon
g lingering kisses, while his hand gently stroked her and his hard-on pressed into her hip. God, his cock felt so big, so beautiful. It was like stone against her, the skin stretched tight. His tongue moved up to her nipple, lapping at it with the very tip of his tongue just like he had worked at the swollen bundle of nerves between her legs. Her nipple tightened even harder, and another gasp of pleasure escaped her.

  “I want you inside me, Blake. Please.”

  His hands left her, the sudden loss of his fingers from between her legs forcing a wordless sound of protest from her throat.

  “This’ll only take a moment.” He pulled open the drawer of his side table and pulled out a condom packet, opened it, and eased the sheath down over himself. Then he turned back to her, reaching for her, but she drew away from him, pushing herself up onto her knees instead so she faced him on the bed.

  “No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “This time I want you to lie down.”

  He obeyed, stretching out full length just like she had been a moment ago. She hesitated a moment to admire him. The muscles in his stomach were clearly visible, his thighs and calves as well defined as his arms. A V shape ran from hips to groin and his cock jutted up, hard and proud, in invitation. She wanted to kiss him all over, just as he’d done for her, and even take him in her mouth as she’d never done for any man before. But the pressure between her legs was so insistent, the urgent need of her body so wonderfully intense, she couldn’t wait another second to have him inside her.

  She threw her leg over him, holding his chest down with her hands until she was straddled across him. She hesitated a moment, holding herself high above him, her hand reaching down to grasp around his shaft and lift it up to her aching slit. She felt its tip touch the lips of her opening. Then she eased herself down, sinking his length deep inside her.

  “Caylee.” His hands grabbed her butt cheeks, squeezing them hard as her name exploded from his lips.

  Her head fell back, her breasts jutting forward in invitation and his hands went up to them, pinching and teasing her nipples. She rose up again and plunged down, over and over, riding him, crying out each time he filled her.

  The pressure was growing again, starting deep within her this time, where he thrust so far inside her he felt like part of her. One of his hands moved down to rub against her, his fingers caressing her with the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm, as she slid up and down his shaft. Now she was arching back, her throbbing, aching center thrust forward against his fingers. Yes, just like that. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

  His other hand cupped her breast, cradling its weight. His thumb moved over her nipple. Underneath half-closed lids, his eyes caressed her body. Knowing that he was drinking in the sight of her driving herself up and down on him made her feel deliciously wicked, totally unlike herself. She arched her back even farther, putting her hands behind her and gripping his thighs, then throwing her head back as the pleasure grew inside her. His moans mingled with hers, their breaths synchronized. His hand dropped from her breast to grasp her hip as she moved faster and faster, grinding against him, sliding his length in and out of her. Her rocking motion became more urgent as her need boiled up inside her.

  Then all at once her climax wasn’t just a throbbing bliss building inside her, but a force too big too contain. It was an unstoppable train powering right through her, forcing a scream from her as the force of it ripped her into tiny pieces and shattered her completely. She didn’t know if she was still moving or screaming, all she knew was that he was exploding inside her, the force of his release pushing her beyond ecstasy.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.” He’d opened the blinds so the soft dawn light filtered in.

  She groaned. They’d made love twice more in the middle of the night, reaching for each other almost in their sleep. Each time, he’d slid into her so gently that the memory of it seemed like the sweetest of dreams. Had she gotten more than a couple of hours sleep? She wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t care too much when the place between her thighs ached with such a deep feeling of complete satisfaction.

  “Come on, Caylee.” He leaned over the bed, stroking her hair back from her face and kissing her cheek. “Time to get up.”

  “It’s too early.” She scrunched both eyes firmly shut.

  “I want to take you out on the Jet Ski. You’re going to love it, and now is the best time. It’s such a beautiful morning.”

  She opened one eye. “I can’t. I have to chase down my luggage. If it doesn’t arrive today, my career is over.”

  “You suitcase just arrived. Ivan called from downstairs to say they’re sending it up.”

  She opened her other eye and gazed up at him, a smile spreading over her face. “Really?”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  Blake must have showered already, because he looked far fresher than he had any right to, and his unruly hair was even in some semblance of order. He wore board shorts and a rash guard shirt, and she couldn’t help but admire the way the tight fabric stretched across his chest. Making love with Blake last night had been even better than that magical first time. It also had to be the most illogical, irresponsible thing she’d ever done in her life. But even in the bright light of morning, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. They only had a little time together, that was true. But the important thing was that she hadn’t shared the most intimate, beautiful night of her life with a man who’d betrayed her and stolen from her. After all these years it was a relief to finally realize he was innocent.

  “Come on, Caylee, you’ll love the Jet Ski. When does your conference start today?”

  She thought about it, her eyes drifting from his chest to the window where a gorgeous dawn was breaking across the water. Her first session was a workshop. She should really attend it, but with the first golden rays of sun sparkling on the waves, the sunrise looked too tempting to miss out on. “I probably don’t really need to be there until eleven.”

  “I’ll have you back by ten. That gives us four hours.”

  Caylee was too busy scrambling out of bed to answer. He captured her as she tried to get past him, naked, heading for the shower.

  “Hey.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I’ve changed my mind. Temporary insanity—I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” His hands moved down to her butt and he bent his knees to push his swelling stiffness against her bare cleft. “I’m taking you back to bed.”

  “Bad boy.” She laughed and wriggled out of his grasp as he pretended to grab for her. “Behave yourself while I get ready.”

  She showered quickly and put on the bikini he’d bought her on the first night, smiling as she remembered him delivering it to her while she wore only a towel. It was hard to believe that so much had happened between them since. She’d changed, she realized. She felt lighter. Freer. Would the old Caylee have skipped a conference workshop to go out on a Jet Ski? She doubted it. As she stood in front of the mirror, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail, Caylee wondered if it was entirely a good thing. Last night she’d let emotion, not logic, guide her decision to make love with Blake, and she was already finding it tempting to neglect her work. She’d come a long way very quickly in her profession by being totally focused on work, to the exclusion of everything else. Maybe she’d even taken it as far as obsession. But her career was important. She’d have to be careful not to get carried away and endanger everything for which she’d worked so hard.

  “You said my suitcase was on its way up to the room?” she called out to Blake.

  “It just got here.” He stuck his head into the bathroom and looked her up and down, grinning. “Did I mention I have damn good taste in clothes? You look smoking hot in that bikini.”

  “It’s here?” Sure enough, she found her bag in the living room, and when she opened it, her flash drive, her journal, and the note cards for her speech were all there, safe and sound. Thank heavens. Caylee closed her eyes for a momen
t, feeling the relief surge through her. At least now she had a chance to deliver a presentation that would impress Dr. Partington. She’d go out on the water for a short while with Blake, attend the eleven o’clock session of the conference, then spend some time this afternoon reviewing what she would say to Dr. Partington tonight, and going over tomorrow’s presentation.

  “Sunscreen?” Blake helped her put it on, rubbing it all over her in thick quantities, and even tugging her bikini bottom aside so he could rub it lingeringly onto her buttocks. As his hands massaged them in slow circles, she felt a shiver of lust run through her.

  “Maybe we should go back to bed for a little while first?” His voice was husky.

  Tempting. But she’d be busy with the conference from now on, so this might be her only chance to see if the Jet Ski was as much fun as the boat had been. She stepped away from his hands with an effort. “Come on, let’s go.”

  He had a backpack packed and waiting and, when they arrived in the lobby, he stopped in at reception to pick up another bag.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Breakfast.”

  “Breakfast?” she repeated. How would they eat while sitting on a Jet Ski surrounded by water?

  “You’ll see.” He gave her a smug smile and led her outside to his boat shed. As he put the Ski in the water, stowing the bags into a compartment in the front, she buckled on a life jacket.

  He held the Ski still and helped her get onto the back. It seemed a lot bigger once she was on it than it had looked. It was probably big enough for three people. But when Blake got on in front of her, she scooted right up so she was sitting close behind him, put her arms around his waist, and squeezed tight. She’d never been on a Jet Ski before. What if she fell off?