When he finally released her and rose to his feet, she sat and watched him pull his swim trunks down his muscular legs, marveling at the lean beauty of his naked body. Not an ounce of fat on him, only lean and hard man.
Speaking of hard—his erection was huge. He wanted her now, but would she be enough woman to please him? Her mouth dried.
Only one way to find out.
She reached out and encircled him with her fingers. His erection felt fiery and silky smooth.
A groan rumbled from him. He snagged her hand then brought it to his mouth to kiss. To nibble, to lave. “Not yet.” His voice sounded hoarse, and his expression was pained.
She liked it. Way better than the emotion-free mask he usually wore. Her mouth curved in a satisfied smile. Some part of her could penetrate his almost impenetrable walls. A surge of feminine power shot through her.
His eyes darkened to a deep shade of midnight, focusing in on her, seeking her satisfaction alone.
Her gaze moved from his gorgeous bronze face to his hands as they slid down her body and stopped at her feet. He stroked her arches until sensation shivered over her. Next he caressed up her calf, exploring every inch of her flesh, making her skin rise with goose bumps, and her muscles jump with excitement. When he stalled his exploration, her legs opened for him.
He anchored her hips into the bed, while his mouth found her female center. He laved at her clitoris until heat burned low in her pelvis, until she fisted her hands at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. Her throaty cries grew desperate as orgasm waves built.
It was so intense. But her orgasm was worth every minute of rapture filled suffering.
Her body buzzed as it fell, a deadweight, into the feathery softness of his bed. But she only relaxed for a brief second, listening to the rustle of a condom wrapper as he protected them.
Then he entered her, spreading her, filling her. Filling her a little too much. He must have remembered her telling him it had been a long time or maybe she felt too tight because Joel froze, his gaze intense as if taking in her features. His granite muscles held motionless.
She realized he waited for her direction and her permission to go any further, and his forehead beaded with sweat.
She relaxed and adjusted to his size. “Don’t stop. Please,” she whispered.
He exhaled before he gently moved inside her.
And with each stroke she reveled in the way he filled her.
So good. Not at all like what she’d remembered with her other lovers. She’d never known it could be like this, never in her wildest, late night fantasies. He’d awakened something inside her, by making her his.
When he started to lift himself from her, the movement’s friction made her grab at his shoulders. Her hips rose to pull him back inside.
“Mm,” she moaned into his neck. She inhaled his delicious, sandalwood scent, wanting to remember everything about this moment. The way he felt against her. The way her nipples rubbed his chest, and the way she shivered when he moved.
She tasted the salty skin of his neck, and he groaned. His hips descended as he sank into her, inch by glorious inch. This man was made to fill her. She raised her pelvis to meet him. He started slowly, letting her learn his rythym.
Until slow wasn’t enough, and she had to have more. She needed him faster, deeper.
When her cries grew more desperate, and her nails clawed at his shoulder blades, he let go. His hips crashed against hers until she wanted to scream. And he kept kissing her, his tongue stroking inside her mouth as he plunged into her.
To her surprise, another shattering orgasm took hold, releasing her just as close to heaven as the first.
He waited until she was still as if giving her time to enjoy all the waves of pleasure, before following her lead, finding his release with one final plunge.
Then with a harsh groan, he dropped onto her. Her fingers still speared into his shoulders, unable to let go. She was dizzy. Her legs wrapped around his in an effort to lock him in place. Her skin tingled, and her muscles dissolved like quivery, melted cream.
Their hearts pounded against each other in one pulsing beat. Their ragged breathing filled the room.
When he lifted to pull free, she whispered, “No.” But it was too late, he’d left her empty to dispose of the condom wrapper.
Then he returned to bed, flipped onto his back, and dragged her next to him, slick skin against slick skin. She nestled in the crook of his arm and sighed. “If I knew it was going to be like that, I would have attacked you in your plane’s bedroom. We wouldn’t have landed without me devouring you.” She smiled. Making love with him had been wonderful, powerful.
And she’d been nervous? Please! A total waste of energy.
“That was awesome, don’t you think?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, and the warm afterglow of his love making faded away.
Chapter Seven
“Definitely,” he finally answered. If he meant what he said, why the pause?
Ava’s face blazed like an open flame flicked her skin. She’d thought she’d pleased him. She was wrong. He thought what Jason thought. She was an ice cube in bed. Now he was about to reject her and she braced herself.
She rolled to her side and rested her chin on his chest reading his stony expression.
“How many lovers have you had?” he asked.
Her muscles stiffened. “How many have you had?”
“We aren’t talking about me. You told me it had been a while, not that your experience is practically nonexistent. You were so tight, then you acted shocked by the orgasms.”
“I’ve climaxed before.” Just not like that, with that much intensity, and never with a man inside her.
“I thought a woman as sexy as you would have a world of experience.”
“You thought wrong.” She sat, her hip still touching his. Her eyes meeting the Arctic coldness of his.
“I wish I would have known.”
“So you could have brought someone else to this island, to your bed?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m not like Claudia or your other lovers? Because I’m frigid?”
“Who the hell told you, you’re frigid?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I suck in bed.” She bit into her lower lip. “I didn’t want you to toss me out.”
“Ava, I wouldn’t have tossed you out. And for the record, there is no way in hell you’re frigid. If anything, you are too hot.”
Her mouth dropped in shock. “Too hot? What do you mean?”
“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you. But I’d bet my company that there was something wrong with your last lover.”
She stared into his eyes, making sure he spoke the truth and didn’t find any countering evidence. Something deep in her stomach buzzed. There was nothing wrong with her. Joel was a man who would know and that thought freed her. It made her hungry for him. She grinned and started to kiss his jaw and wrap her arms around his neck.
“I like you, Joel.”
“You like me?” he asked, untwining her arms and pulling from bed. Her words obviously bothered him. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure, but not for food. Come back to bed.”
But he didn’t. His face had turned back to expressionless marble. His arms tightened around his broad chest as if he needed another wall to keep her out. Whatever closeness he’d felt for her was now a filed-away memory.
“Why are you pulling away?” she asked. “Are you afraid of getting close to me?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
He shrugged. “Never going to happen. Love screws everything up.”
She was close to something important, some dark secret, the back of her neck tingled with the knowledge. “What did being in love screw up for you?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s time for lunch. I’ll call the staff.” And away he went.
Yep, he was hiding something, all right, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to uncover it. That damned secret of his was just that, his.
Why the hell had it been so important for her to probe?
He didn’t want their relationship to grow, and he didn’t want to be in love with her. The fact he ran from her question was a clear signal they had no future. He didn’t even want her close enough to be a friend.
One week of meaningless sex that was what she was here for.
For a moment there, when they’d been wrapped in each other’s arms, he’d been part of her, he’d healed her, and it had seemed like she’d connected to him in some soul binding way.
But in the light of day, he gave her his broad back, retreating to
order
lunch.
Proving she’d been suffering from an intimate illusion. Biology and sex hormones had tricked her into thinking he was the one.
That wasn’t possible. He wasn’t what she wanted. He wasn’t an open book, and he wasn’t willing to love her. He was exactly who he’d promised he’d be, a good sex partner. That’s all.
She hadn’t come for more, and she wasn’t deluded enough to believe she could change him. She’d just become confused after mind-numbing passion. Now it was time to become unconfused. She untangled her legs from the sheets and headed for the shower.
Get a grip. Leave the questions. Focus on the island and the physical man.
That’s how she’d accomplish her goal of having fun without falling in love.
Afterward she’d fly home, where she’d forget about Joel Stanfield, once and for all. And get on with her life and her plans. The ones that didn’t involve secretive males, neutered of emotion.
When this trip was over, Ava would be done with Joel Stanfield. End of story.
Chapter Eight
Ava’s head slumped forward in the plane’s seat. She finally gave in and fell asleep after his jet reached cruising altitude. They were on their way back to the city. Seven days had flown by.
Joel rubbed at his jaw and let his eyes drink in the way her features softened in sleep. Her lips parted as if welcoming his kiss.
He’d love to taste her again but she needed the rest. He could tell from the way she’d snapped at him this morning while they’d packed, she was exhausted from the swimming and love making and never sleeping.
They’d filled the trip with lounging in the sun, snorkeling, and talking about nothing personal. At night, Joel would reach for her, and they’d made love until their bodies gave out.
But afterward he’d force himself to turn his back, and she’d turn hers. A shard of glass sank into his gut because he knew he wasn’t being a great lover. He should have held her and whispered endearments, not pulled away. She deserved more.
Maybe he shouldn’t have kept her at Stanfield Cay the entire seven days.
But she’d given him the best sex of his life.
And what had he given her in return? His icy cold shoulder.
Making love with her had touched him in a way he’d never have predicted. Being with her was like being with no other woman. Ava made him feel like she belonged to him. And worse she’d made him start to
feel.
To care.
When he thought of how her last lover had made her feel inferior, every protective instinct in him came to life.
That was why he’d been such an ass. Why he’d had to shove her away.
Maybe it would have been better if he’d have severed ties after the first night. But he ached for her. And he’d hoped if he spent the entire week with her, his hunger would finally be satisfied.
Big mistake. Now his body growled with a limitless need.
It was good they were going their separate ways today. Better to cut it off now. He was not what she needed. She wanted a man who’d fall in love with her, and he couldn’t. He’d lost too much to ever want to expose himself to that kind of vulnerability again.
Ava groaned in her sleep. Her brow scrunched as if she were uncomfortable. She mumbled something that made no sense.
He reached over, took off her headphones, and switched off the cabin’s movie. Then he scooped her against him, reclined his chair, and laid her head on his chest. She sighed and snuggled closer. She fit him, her soft curves were made to hold his hard lines.
Something inside him relaxed as he smoothed the silk of her light brown hair. He frowned. He should carry her to the back bedroom and settle her in there, by herself. He should quit stroking her back and head.
But he knew he couldn’t. He was too greedy. He wanted to savor her, to drink in her feminine vanilla and citrus scent, to have her silk hair tickle his neck, to feel her breasts cushion against his chest. One last time.
He wanted to hold her just a little while longer, before they landed, and he’d have to force himself to let her go.
****
“I’ll have another,” Joel told the bald bartender. He watched as the man poured him a scotch.
Right after Joel dropped Ava off at her apartment, he’d called Lance and asked him to meet at the bar closest to Lance’s penthouse. Lance agreed without hesitation.
“You sure you want that, Bud?” Lance slid the drink away before Joel could touch it. “I’ve never seen you throw back three in a row, let alone four.” Lance was still nursing his first.
“I can handle them.” He grabbed the drink back.
Lance shrugged and allowed Joel the dulling alcohol. Not that it was working yet. Unwanted feelings, like guilt and longing kept rising up in him. Maybe he just wasn’t drunk enough.
“I can’t believe you let Ava go.” Lance shook his head.
“What else was I supposed to do? Propose?”
“You’re inhaling scotch. The only time you drink like this is on the anniversary of Elizabeth’s death.”
Losing Elizabeth, the love of his life, had wrecked him for a long time. There had been days he couldn’t even move from bed. Lance had come over every night to grieve with him, after his friend had put in a full day at Joel’s office.
He couldn’t imagine what his life would look like without Lance’s support. Even with the help, he’d barely crawled out his hole of grief and despair.
“Leaving Ava today was the right thing.”
“No, you care about her. If you allowed yourself, I think you could fall in love.”
“Not gonna happen.”