Deep Focus (14 page)

“Do you have any more excursions planned?” He hoped not, in all honesty. The zip-lining had been fun, the horseback riding awful, and now he just wanted to spend the rest of the week relaxing with Melanie. Eating his weight in seafood and fresh mangoes.

“The Mayan ruins on Friday.”

Under other circumstances, he was all about a little history and culture. But he had a feeling this was going to involve a bumpy bus ride and strangers wanting to chat with him while joking about needing a
cerveza
. He was craving privacy. “That sounds interesting.”

“We can probably cancel.”

He must not have sounded enthusiastic. There was no way he wanted his opinion to influence her. Pushing a giant banana leaf back so they could continue on the path, passing an endless row of patios off hotel rooms, he immediately tried to reassure her. “No, of course not. I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, and obviously you must want to if you signed up to do it.”

“The water there is supposed to be really blue.”

That was a baffling statement to him. “Melly, the water
here
is really blue.”

She laughed. “Yes, but I thought with the ruins jutting up, and the water as the background, it would make great photos.”

Ah. So that was it. Maybe she didn’t really care that much about seeing the ruins herself. She had thought it would make Ian happy. The ungrateful bastard.

“Probably. We don’t have to decide tonight. We can go and ask tomorrow if it’s even possible to get a refund. If not, then we should just go. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.” Then to make her laugh, he added, “Or die trying.”

She made a sound of amusement. “Isn’t that what vacation is about?”

They were at the edge of the hotel, about to step down onto the beach. He stopped and turned back to gather Melanie in his arms. “No. This is what vacation is about.” He brushed her blond hair off her cheek and bent to brush his lips tenderly across hers. “It’s about pleasure.”

He had to admit to himself it was also about companionship. Easy, simple companionship.

It was amazing what a few days could do. Instead of looking at her with pure lust, those feelings were now intermingled with something more. Deeper. He had genuine affection for her, and he wasn’t sure what in the hell he was supposed to do with that back in Chicago. But there was tonight.

He caressed her cheek with his thumb while he took her mouth again, enjoying the soft sigh she gave as she succumbed to his kiss. They tasted and touched, his tongue dipping into her open mouth. Everything about Melanie turned him on, from the way she smelled to that soft little sigh she gave between kisses. She was sensual and beautiful and generous, and he held her tighter, wanting to remember this moment. Remember her.

When her arms came up to snake around his neck, he was suddenly overcome by the need to take her right there, right then. The end of the path was private, the beach on one side, and a retaining wall with bushes on the other. If he walked her behind the hedge, no one would hear a thing.

The thought was a total turn-on. The perfect way to get Melanie to totally let go. “Back up,” he urged her, walking forward so she was forced to step back.

“What? Why?”

“I want to kiss you in private.” Okay, that was something of a con, but he did want more privacy.

The look she gave him indicated she didn’t buy it. “I thought we were going for a walk.”

“We are. We’re walking five feet behind you.” He brushed his fingers over her nipples through her sundress.

She sucked in her breath sharply.

“Let me kiss you. Please.” He was asking for more, and they both knew it.

Her sandals made a sound in the gravel as she took two steps back, watching him carefully, her breasts heaving in the moonlight. “Kiss me, Hunter. Everywhere.”

It would be his pleasure.

* * *

I
T
WAS
DARK
on the secluded edge of the path, but Melanie could see Hunter’s nostrils flare. She knew what he was asking, and he knew that she had just agreed. Maybe he didn’t want to actually take it beyond making out, but even that was hard for her to do in a setting like this. It required acquiescence to the moment, to the desire. She wasn’t good at that. It went against her control-freak personality, and Hunter knew that, but there was something about him. He made her feel soft without feeling vulnerable. Sexy without feeling like an object. He made her let her hair down, literally and figuratively, and laugh. She felt feminine, confident, desirable, appreciated.

That was it. She felt
appreciated
by Hunter. Something she hadn’t felt in who knew how long.

So she let him lead her, moving forward with a determined expression so she was forced to back up until she hit the wall. That soft thump of her back on the stucco tripped off a ripple of desire, starting from her core and easing out into all her limbs. There was no retreat. Hunter was going to touch her, and she was going to submit to him. It was exciting, arousing. His hand landed low on her waist, his thumb stroking over the apex of her thigh. His other hand cupped her breast, and he teased at her nipple.

She anticipated his lips on hers, but instead his tongue flicked across her bottom lip, and she arched toward him, a craving for more igniting deep inside her. He knew how to expertly tease her to greater pleasure. When he sucked her moist flesh into his mouth gently several times, her head dropped back and her eyes drifted shut. “Hunter,” she murmured. She wanted more.

Without even realizing she had done it, she had wrapped her leg around him and was grinding her hips against his. She could feel his erection pressing into her, but the angle was such that it wasn’t any sort of relief, it was only teasing and antagonizing. His answer to her pleading was to pinch her nipple at the same time his tongue plunged into her mouth. It was pure, sweet torture, and she moaned into him, gripping his shoulders tightly.

Before Hunter, she had been aware of her body, obviously, but not like this. Not like this understanding and consciousness of every inch of her flesh, and all its curves and dips and ways she could feel alive. He could make her shiver with just a brushing over her inner thighs. He did that as he took her mouth, skirting her clitoris over and over with his touch, making her feel more and more desperate for solid contact. When he finally slipped his hand under her skirt, blocking her from anyone’s view with his solid frame, she was grateful to finally feel his strokes without the barrier of her cotton sundress. But he still didn’t give her the relief she wanted; he didn’t shift her panties to the side. He just kissed her over and over until she was weak in the knees, damp with desire, breathing hard, totally unaware of the hard wall behind her back.

All she was aware of was him and her own body.

The ocean waves were creating a white noise humming in the distance, and the air was warm, her body even more so.

When he finally slipped a finger under her panties and into her moist arousal, she moaned louder than she had intended. For a second she was embarrassed, glancing around his shoulders to see if anyone was around, but then he shifted his mouth onto the swell of her breast at the same time his thumb stroked over her clitoris. This time when she groaned she didn’t care who heard her. That felt
good
.

“Yeah?” he asked.

She nodded and managed to answer, “Yes.” It was so amazing that she couldn’t prevent herself from rocking onto his finger repeatedly. She found a faster and faster rhythm, losing herself to the moment.

But then Hunter stilled her hips by pressing her back against the wall. She gave a cry of disappointment.

He shifted her dress a little higher and tugged her panties down. They fell to her ankles, and she realized where this was going. Part of her, the efficient, organized, uptight Melanie, balked inside. The other part, the one who felt alive with Hunter, didn’t let the uptight side of her have an opinion. So she sagged, letting the wall hold her up, and gave herself to the moment. Gave herself to Hunter.

When he surged into her, she was ready for him, open and eager.

Two strokes and she found her release, already so primed by him it was all it took. She bit her lip to keep from making too much noise and hung on to him with white knuckles.

Hunter followed her just a few minutes later, and for a long moment they just stared at each other, still intimately connected, breathing hard.

Finally, he pulled back. “Damn.” Dropping into a squat, he eased her panties back up into place, kissing her inner thigh as he did. Then he dropped her dress back down over her. “All that needed was a waterfall to be the hottest thing ever.”

“That probably would have killed me,” she told him sincerely.

He laughed and leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Me, too.” He tugged her off the wall. “Now, how about that walk on the beach?”

“Only if I don’t need my legs.” She wasn’t sure she had bucolic strolling in her at this point. Her thighs were actually shaking.

“Truth or dare,” he asked, ignoring her reluctance. He tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Doesn’t that count retroactively as a dare?”

“What does?”

“What we just did.” She felt as though she was blushing, or maybe it was just the warm flush of their heated exchange and her climax.

“No, that doesn’t count. I didn’t ask you truth or dare before we started.”

“Fine. Truth.” He was propelling her along with a firm grip on her hand. The minute their feet hit the sand, though, Melanie was glad he had persisted. “Ah, that feels good.”

“It does. But no avoiding the question. What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

Melanie froze. She couldn’t answer that. Because the truth was it was the sex they had been having. Not one moment, or one orgasm, but the collective vacation affair they had been sharing.

But surely that would sound pathetic. That the best sex in her life was with a guy she’d just met, who had been paid to protect her. A little more revealing than she would like it to be, so she wasn’t going to let on. Not yet.

“I don’t know,” she hedged. “Let me think about it.”

The one thing she did know was that what she and Hunter had done was going to be a blueprint for her future sex life.

Hunter kicked off his sandals and sank to the sand in a quiet and private spot just beyond the grassy area of the resort. He pulled her down next to him. They could see a few people down by the water. The night air was still warm, but there was a chill to it without the sun. It would have been relaxing except that she was trying to formulate a response for Hunter that wasn’t a flat-out lie. She’d chosen
truth
, and she was a rule follower, plain and simple. There was nothing wrong with that, but it was inconvenient at times.

“Is your sexual history so extensive, then?” he joked.

Melanie knew Hunter enough to know that he joked when he wasn’t sure what to say, so it reassured her that he wasn’t 100 percent comfortable with his question, either. She wondered why he had asked it.

Maybe it was because he wanted it to be the very answer she was afraid to give.

“Well, you know, I’ve built a film career on it,” she teased back.

That made him laugh. “I’d almost forgotten, Ms. Ambrosia.”

They could leave it at that. Or she could expose herself totally to him.

He had seen her at her most vulnerable; he had been there when she’d gotten dumped by correspondence—one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments she’d ever had. And that had only been the beginning. Now she had truly let loose, and had had a quickie with him behind a hedge. She was open to him whether she had intended to be or not.

Then she realized that thinking about it in terms of weights and balances was the wrong approach. Hunter wasn’t a cruel man. He wasn’t going to use her words against her. What did it matter if she told him the truth? The only way to truly let go and enjoy a moment, or in this case a week, was to stop hiding behind emotional walls and throw it all out there.

So with her toes in the sand and Hunter’s hand in hers, she stroked her thumb over the callused skin on the back of his hand. “I guess I have the average amount of experience for a twenty-eight-year-old woman. A few noteworthy partners from serious relationships, a few encounters that were less serious, one debacle.”

“Yeah, that does sound about right.”

“So based on that, I would say the best sex I’ve ever had is with you.” Then she added a caveat just in case it was too heavy for him, or gave him the impression she wanted more. “I mean, in terms of casual sex. Sex outside of a relationship.”

For a second he didn’t say anything. His jaw was tense in profile as she watched him. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment. I wanted to know what you’ve enjoyed the most so I can repeat it for you. Give me your favorite position.”

“Oh.” Melanie refused to feel awkward or as if she had said too much. She was going to expand her statement, explain to him that everything he did had a delicious effect on her. But Hunter kept speaking.

“But before you tell me how much you love to be on top, I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Those words made her nervous. His head turned, and the intensity of his stare took her breath away.

“Sex with you is fantastic. I love the way you smell and the way you taste and the way you sound. I love the way you come apart in my arms, Melly.”

She would come apart for him anytime.

Melanie laid her head on Hunter’s shoulder. “I think your girlfriend was wrong. You do a pretty damn good job of sharing your feelings.”

Hunter put his arm around her. “Sharing my feelings isn’t an issue if someone is willing to listen.”

Her heart swelled. “I’ll listen. I’m a good listener. You can say whatever you want.”

His lips brushed her temple. “All I really want to say right now is that you’re beautiful, and I’m glad the firm put me on this assignment. There isn’t anywhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

The sand, the surf, the hottest guy in the world telling her she was beautiful.

Best vacation ever.