Anonymity (6 page)

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Authors: Amber Lea Easton

BOOK: Anonymity
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She laughed without moving away. "I hear I'm territorial."

"Jealous freak." He winked, his hand moving to her knee. "Let's get out of here after this drink, deal?"

She reached for Rosie's special concoction and gulped it down. To hell if she looked too eager to get him alone again. He did the same. They met each
other's gaze and laughed at their actions.

"How long have you two been together?" Savannah scooted her chair closer, eyes observant. "You act like a pair of newlyweds."

"Not that long—"

"
A year—"

They spoke over each other.

She looked at him over her shoulder and nodded for him to take the lead. After all, he'd insisted on taking charge earlier in the night and this was his lie. Her mind inevitably returned to him holding her against the tree with his hands gripping her wrists and body pinning her against the trunk. Immediate heat flooded her veins as she watched him smile at Savannah, dimples slicing into his cheeks.

Despite herself, she wondered what he did for a living to ooze such confidence and charm. Not that she'd ask, that would break the rules she'd imposed.

"Seems like a lifetime but in a good way." He snagged her hand and squeezed. "She picked me up at a bar, wanted a fling, but our one night stand hasn't ended yet."

"Yeah, I keep wondering when he'll finally go away but he keeps coming back for more, even bribes me with little treasures," she added.

He locked his gaze on hers. "I know a good thing when I find it."

"A man of action," she said, unable to look away.

"Determined." His hand beneath the table slid beneath the hem of her dress and skimmed her inner thigh.

"I think we need to go. I travelled overnight to get here, should probably get to bed." She linked her ankle behind his, opening her thighs another inch.

"And your family doesn't know about her?" Bill asked. He'd also scooted his chair closer to their side of the table, eyes full of curiosity. "I'm surprised. They seemed so riveted on your personal life."

"Exactly." He glanced at Bill, squeezed her knee, and
sighed. "We're gonna go. We'll probably see you all tomorrow sometime."

She didn't need any more encouragement than that. She stood in one fluid
moment and smiled at Savannah before Luke grabbed her hand.

She didn't know who
pulled whom toward the cabanas. They both were equally eager to resume what they'd started on the beach. Laughing, he winked at her over his shoulder as they weaved past the tables and other resort guests.

They stumbled up the two steps of her cabana,
mouths fused in a kiss as she fumbled for the keycard. His hands yanked at the straps of her dress when she finally pushed open the door.

If she'd known it felt this good being bad, she'd have abandoned the good girl persona years ago.
She ached to touch him, to have him completely naked. She yanked at his shirt while he nibbled along her collarbone and pushed the dress down her torso.

Tripping over discarded clothes they made their way to the bed. A tangled mass of limbs they rolled to the center of the mattress. He squeezed her breasts, his thumbs circling the nipples until hard while his mouth played havoc with her neck.

She couldn't stop touching the sculpted muscles of his chest, her eyes feasting on the breadth of his body against hers.

Wanton. Until now she hadn't really understood the meaning of that word, but that's
what slammed into her consciousness. She was acting like a wild, wanton version of herself and she loved it. She bit his shoulder, grabbed his ass, arched her hips toward his, and flattened the soles of her feet on the backs of his calves.

The man had the body of a God.

His mouth claimed hers as he thrust inside her with the force of a man staking out his territory. Tongues moved in rhythm with every stroke of his hips. She wrapped every limb around him, needing him as close as possible.

The orgasm began somewhere in her toes, shuddered through her body like a tsunami of pleasure, and erupted with a moan of ecstasy. Her nails sunk into his shoulders. Her head rolled back on the pillow as she gasped for breath and felt his release slam into her. He buried his face in her hair while he moaned her name.

Wrapped together, they both gasped for breath and allowed their heart rates to return to a steady beat. The room was silent except for the sounds of their rapid breathing.

When he finally rolled to the side and stared at the ceiling, she closed her eyes and smiled. She'd been holding back more than dreams all of these years. She hadn't known she was capable of passion like that.

"Damn, you're intense," he said with a slight laugh.

"I am, aren't I?" She liked that idea.

He rolled onto his side and put one hand on her breast. "Look at me, Alyssa."

She opened her eyes and grinned.
Black hair fell across his forehead, dimples slashing into his face with his smile, and naked body stretched along side hers, he was spectacular. "You should always be naked. I'm serious. You should never hide that body with clothes."

He laughed and shook his head. "No one has ever said that to me before, I'm not sure what to say back. That's a first. I'm never speechless."

"Yeah, well, I never have sex with strangers yet here we are." She traced the line of his bicep. "You're amazing."

"We're not strangers anymore, not really." He kissed her neck before nibbling her ear. "We had a date, talked, danced, fucked against a palm tree...and again...and I'm pretty sure we'll be doing it again soon...not strangers."

She grinned at his logic and wrapped her fingers in his hair. "The first night's almost over, we have six more days of this."

"You're going to wreck me." He slid a finger across her lips, his gaze on hers. "
I feel like a horny teenager. It's like I've lost control."

"Control is overrated." She snagged his finger and held it against her chest. "Tell me something?"

"Right now I'd tell you anything so be careful what you ask."

She wanted to know why he'd reject a woman who could be a supermodel and who openly admitted coming onto him. Why her, is what she wanted to know but was too afraid to ask. That would reveal her self-doubt and ruin the moment.
Old voices drummed in her head that she wasn't good enough to be picked first; they whispered that she'd always be someone's consolation prize.

"Why does your family want to set you up so badly?" she asked instead.

He moaned and hugged a pillow under his head before meeting her gaze again. "I'm the oldest of three, they've all gotten married and have kids now. They think I'm lonely."

"Are you?" She twisted onto her side and mirrored his position with the pillow.

The engagement ring fell between them. She winced. She'd not only forgotten about it, she'd made love with another man on top of it. Well, if that didn't say 'closure', she didn't know what did.

He picked it up and studied it from side to side before looking at her. "What's this?"

She grabbed it from him, embarrassment flooding her nervous system. "I brought it down so I could throw it in the ocean on New Year's Eve. I don't want it anymore and didn't want to pawn it off only to curse some other woman with a tainted ring."

He raised his eyebrows and whistled. "You should be thankful that you didn't get married. He's someone else's problem now and it sounds like he is definitely a jerk."

"He's the last person I want to talk about." She twisted around to put the ring on the bedside table, hating that her past crept between them and ruined a mind-blowing evening. 

"Do you miss being engaged?"

She laughed, much to her surprise, and pushed him onto his back. With arms folded on his chest, she looked down at him. "Do I look like I miss being engaged?"

He slid his hands up her arms. "Not really."

"Have you ever been engaged?"

"Nope. I'm not the marrying kind." His eyes darkened, smile faded, but he didn't look away.
"Rosie was right when she labeled me anti-love, Alyssa. I don't believe it exists. It's good this is what it is—a weeklong fling where we part ways after having one helluva great time. We'll always think of each other and smile, no bitterness. Are you having second thoughts?"

She took her time looking at him from head to toe, lingering on all parts in between, before meeting his gaze. "The only thing I'm having second thoughts about is room service. I've worked up an appetite."

He framed her face between his hands and stared into her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

His simple words stirred her heart. She didn't want to feel anything for someone who was temporary. Her heart had been broken enough, she didn't want to open it even a little bit for someone she'd never see again in a week. Her body was one thing. Fun in the sun. But her heart was off limits. She rolled to the side and made a production of looking for the room service menu while he walked into the bathroom.

Space, they both suddenly needed breathing room. Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder to the closed door. Anti-love, huh? Good. So was she. Sex—mind-blowing-earth-shattering-sex—would be enough.
More
than enough.

She rifled through a drawer for the short robe she'd brought and wrapped it around herself. Again she looked at the door. The problem was that, yes, she did miss being engaged. She missed the feeling of being in a couple despite her bravado about how freaking fantastic it was to be single. Someone unworthy of her love had destroyed her ideals and everything in her screamed in agony over the death of that dream.

She rubbed a hand over her face, sat down on the edge of the bed, and opened the room service menu. She had a week with a gorgeous man who brought out her wild side.

More than enough.

* * *

He tossed water on his face before resting his palms against the sink and taking a deep breath.
His heartbeat had accelerated on the beach and he hadn't been able to slow it down since that first kiss. He rubbed the center of his chest with a closed fist and squeezed his eyes closed. Either he was having a heart attack, an anxiety attack or...he opened his eyes and looked at his reflection.

"Not happening," he whispered. "Get yourself under control."

Seeing that engagement ring on the bed between him and made him angry, but not because of what it signified. The fact that some asshole had had a woman like Alyssa ready to marry him and had hurt her pissed him off.

But he didn't want to feel that way.
In a week, he'd be on a plane headed home and she'd be a good memory that would make him smile whenever he thought about Belize. That's how he wanted it.

But right now he needed to get the hell out of here. He couldn't breathe. Her intensity had blown a hole through whatever wall he'd created to protect himself and he needed time to rebuild. He'd see her again in the morning
for the Lamania trip. 

Shaking his head to bring him back down to earth, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into the room.
He stopped when he saw she'd gone onto the porch. One shapely leg dangled from the hammock, Rihanna's "Only Girl in the World" drifted softly from where she'd plugged in her iPhone, and a warm breeze drifted through the open door. Maybe this was her way of encouraging him to leave, too.

Hint taken.

He found his underwear, pulled on his shorts, grabbed his shirt, and walked outside. Dressed in a red silk robe that exposed more than it covered of her delectable body, she lay in the hammock with a lazy grin on her face, and hair falling over her eyes and stirring with the breeze. Sighing, he dropped the shirt and crawled next to her.

"You're going to tip us over," she laughed against his neck as he adjusted himself.

"We'll live."

"I ordered a snack and some rum."

"The perfect end to a perfect day." All thoughts of leaving evaporated on a sigh.

"Savannah's not so scary. I think Bill's hot for her."

He smiled at the roof of the cabana's porch. "Some people always want what they can't have and fail to see that what they need is right in front of them. It's always fascinated me how people's minds work."

"Hmm...I suppose you're right. And some people take for granted that the person who loves them will always stick around no matter how they act."

He twisted one of her curls around his finger and glanced at her profile. It would be easy to tell her what he did for a living and how that experience had taught him a lot about relationships. He'd seen and heard it all at this point in his career. She'd nailed it on the head. People become complacent and let a good thing deteriorate to rot.

"Eight years is a long time to be engaged. When did it end exactly?"

"A year ago."

"And he's getting married on New Year's Eve?"

"Yep." She looked at him with a crooked grin. "Do you know what I'm going to be doing on New Year's Eve?"

"I've got a pretty good idea." He smiled.

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