Deep Focus (8 page)

He wrestled himself out of the hammock and went back inside the hotel room, closing the slider door and locking it behind him. He closed the blinds.

“What are you doing?” Melanie asked, startled. She was rooting around in her suitcase.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe in here. I’m going to go for a jog.”

“Right now?”

She sounded so aghast he was amused. “Is there a better time?” He needed to work off some energy. He, too, went into his bag and pulled out his running shoes, shorts and a T-shirt.

“You said you were hungry. I ordered you food. It’ll be cold when you get back.”

“I don’t mind. I won’t be long.” Just thirty minutes, that was all he needed. He just needed to run, to push himself past his sexual frustration. It was something he was good at.

But Melanie sounded huffy about the whole thing. “I can call them back and tell them to wait.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll probably be back before they even get here. I just need to change.”

He started toward the bathroom, but Melanie kept talking.

“Steak is tough when it gets cold.”

How could someone so cute be so obtuse? He raised his eyebrows. “If you let me change, I’ll be back in time.”

“But I don’t understand. Why right this minute?”

So she was going to make him spell it out. “Melly, watching you roll around on the bed was more than I could handle. I’m going to jog off my hard-on.”

“I wasn’t
rolling
.” She glanced down at his jock. “Do you really have a... Oh.”

“Yes, I do. Now can I go change?” So he could adjust and give himself some air. He was damn near on the verge of passing out from tight trunks.

“I think we should talk about this,” she persisted.

That was it. If she wouldn’t let him leave the room, he was changing right there. He yanked his trunks down and kicked them off across the tile.

Finally, there were no more questions. Just pure silence from Melanie.

He grinned as he bent down to retrieve his underwear from his bag.

7

M
ELANIE
WAS
SO
shocked she almost fainted. She was utterly speechless. She might even have been drooling.

Why did she have to control everything? Why hadn’t she just let Hunter go into the bathroom and change? Because now he was naked, and she couldn’t look away. She was absolutely incapable of turning her head and giving him privacy. Not that he needed or wanted it. But she should. Because she should not be seeing Hunter like this, for reasons she could no longer remember.

Holy moly macaroni, the man was off the charts. He was hard. Everywhere. From neck to knee and beyond, with muscular thighs, ripped abs and an erection that was pointing skyward. When he turned to get his shorts out he obscured her view just slightly, but she was compensated by a profile shot of his ass. Which was a thing of perfection. A man shouldn’t look that good. It just wasn’t fair. Because it rendered seemingly intelligent women like herself speechless idiots.

“Enjoy your run,” she finally managed, her throat tight. Her hands were making fists, so she forced herself to relax them, one finger at a time.

“Thanks. You know, maybe you’re right.” He turned back to face her.

Oh, no. Melanie tried to lock her gaze with his and keep her line of vision PG, but she couldn’t stop herself. She glanced down again. That could all have been hers for the night. But like an idiot, she’d said no. “I don’t think I’ve been right about anything,” she said sincerely.

Hunter laughed. His penis bounced a little when he did. Damn it. How could he be hard like that? Just hard for no reason? And stay that way? She wondered what kind of lover he was. Serious, intense? Playful? Most likely all of the above.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” he told her. “I wish you’d just let go and trust your instincts instead of worrying about other people all the time.”

“I’ll work on that.” She crossed her arms over her chest, very aware of her breasts and how her nipples had to be poking out of her bikini top. It was beyond her comprehension that he could just stand there naked and feel comfortable having a conversation with her.

He bent at the waist and pulled his underwear on. Finally. She gave an audible sigh. She wasn’t cut out for this. Her life was orderly, well planned. This was all uncharted territory.

“Want to come for a run with me?”

The ridiculousness of that question jolted her out of her panic. “Please. I only run if someone is chasing me.”

“I can chase you. In fact, I think I already am.” He sat down to put on his shorts, followed by his socks and running shoes.

“Are you?” she asked, curious. Was he genuinely interested in having a fling with her, or had it been more of a spontaneous reaction to a convenient opportunity? Like when they passed out samples at the grocery store. You weren’t hungry, but you took the sample anyway because it was being offered.

But Hunter nodded. “I am. I respect that you said no. But I’m attracted to you, and I’m not going to stop flirting with you. I’m optimistic things will go my way eventually. We have a whole week.”

A whole week. Lord. “So what, marines always get their man, so to speak?”

“I think that’s the Mounties. But when I want something, I put a lot of energy into getting it. And yes, I want you.”

That put a tingle in places that hadn’t tingled for weeks. She’d never had a man be so frank about his desire for her. In her experience most men were determined to display nonchalance. But Hunter clearly wasn’t most men. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. How to respond in an appropriate way. But then she remembered what he was telling her—go with instinct.

“I want you, too. That’s not the issue.” She let her arms drop down and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No hiding. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to dive in to a vacation fling. I’m afraid I’ll freak out and be disappointing.”

He stared at her. She waited for him to speak. Any second now.

Seriously? She made herself vulnerable and told the truth, and he just stared at her?

“I like you,” he said, finally. Simply. “If you are willing to get naked with me, how could I possibly be disappointed?”

“I don’t know. I mean, men aren’t exactly beating down my door to repeat the experience.”
Okay, that was way too personal.
She mentally cringed. “Just forget it.”

“No. I don’t want to forget it.” He came toward her, and she fought the urge to back up. “If they weren’t satisfied, then they were doing something wrong. Not you.”

“Maybe...” She wanted to believe that. She did, in her heart of hearts, truthfully. It was slow in coming, but she was realizing the issue was that she was choosing men poorly.

“No maybe, remember? Yes or no. In this case, the answer is yes.”

Hunter cupped her cheek with his hand and studied her. He was waiting for permission to kiss her—she could see that. This was her choice. She wanted to. She did. She wanted to feel sexy and alive and desired, and she had no doubt Hunter would make her feel all of those things. Rocking slightly on her heels, she leaned up and in toward Hunter, intending to kiss him herself. A soft, exploratory kiss.

But he didn’t wait. And it wasn’t a tentative brush of his lips on hers. It was a possessive, full-on kiss with his mouth covering hers fully. He used her gasp of surprise to slip his tongue inside and tease her. It was hot, it was wet, it was an erotic dance that she hadn’t been prepared for, and she gripped his arms, desperate to hold on. As they kissed, she felt the slow, languid heat build deep inside her, and she pressed into his touch, wanting more, wanting him.

Hunter broke away so suddenly, she stumbled forward. “I want to repeat that experience,” he said, voice gruff. “I want to repeat it until you stop thinking and just feel.”

That sounded like bliss. She wasn’t sure she knew how to do it, though. “I think I’m willing to try.”

“No think. Only yes or no.”

Was he Yoda? Damn it. Let a girl waffle, what was so wrong with that?

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Hunter turned. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“You’re really leaving?” Why was she so pathetically bereft at the thought of being left alone? Because it had been the longest day in the history of long days.

She was definitely lonely. And Hunter was filling that void for her. She quickly added, “Should I text you or something when the food arrives?”

“You don’t have an international texting plan, remember? Don’t worry about it. I won’t be that long.”

He wasn’t gone long. But it gave her plenty of time to reflect on both that kiss and his body. She turned on the TV but everything was in Spanish, so it served poorly as a distraction. The food arrived, and she ate mechanically. She wasn’t as hungry as she’d been at lunch. She was exhausted.

Everything had changed in the course of twelve hours. If anyone had told her when her alarm went off that morning she’d be making out with a bodyguard, she would have suggested they be committed. But now instead of thinking about Ian, all she could think about was Hunter. It seemed wrong.

Yet she couldn’t stop herself.

Why exactly was it wrong? Ian had dumped her. She hadn’t had sex in six weeks. She was lonely and wanted the ego stroke and an orgasm. People had rebound affairs all the time. She was on vacation and no one ever had to know.

After eating a third of her dinner, she decided she needed to take a shower. Despite Hunter’s massage, she still had more knots in her shoulders than a pretzel factory. Leaving Hunter’s steak covered on the tray on the bed, she stepped into the bathroom and into the shower, sighing in relief. She washed off the sunscreen, the anxiety sweat and hopefully the layer of insecurity she’d been wearing all day.

Hunter was right. Say yes or say no. It wasn’t that hard.

By the time she reemerged wearing a tank top and shorts, her hair only towel dried, Hunter was back and his plate was empty. “Wow, you ate that fast.”

“I’m efficient.”

“I’m tired. Do you mind if I get into bed?”

“No, of course not.” He pulled back one side for her. “I’m going to jump in the shower myself.”

Melanie yawned. She would have thought she’d be out in thirty seconds flat, but instead she lay on the cool sheets, mind whirring. Her body was weary; her thoughts were not. She felt a bit as though she’d had too much coffee, and she couldn’t hold on to a single train of thought. They rushed by like bullets, there and gone before she could grab one or dodge it.

She had the surreal feeling that she had imagined all of this, and that tomorrow she would wake up in her apartment in Chicago, freezing her butt off, with a good-morning text from Ian.

Then she realized suddenly and with startling clarity that, God, she hoped not.

She wanted to be right there, with Hunter. Not at home with Ian.

For once, just once, she wanted to do something not because it was logical but because it would feel good.

The answer was a yes.

* * *

H
UNTER
CAME
OUT
of the bathroom, clean but no less sexually frustrated. That kiss with Melanie had been hotter than even he’d been expecting. And he’d expected it to be smoking. What he hadn’t anticipated was a five-alarm fire with barely any touching between them. If that was the beginning, he could only imagine the ending.

Melanie was under the covers on her back, looking at the ceiling. She didn’t look anywhere near sleepy. “You okay?” he asked, towel around his waist.

She glanced over at him. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t look okay. She looked as if she was breathing heavily, her chest rising up and down unnaturally fast.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he wasn’t going to force the issue.

“No, I mean
yes
.” She rolled up onto her side, letting the sheet fall away from her.

She was not wearing a shirt. Or a bra. That was a glorious pair of breasts poking out from under the crisp white sheet. His mouth went dry. He froze in place.

“What...” Smooth. That was him. “I...” Even smoother.

Her hair was still damp from her shower, and it tumbled over her flesh in soft blond waves. Her cheeks were pink, the top of her collarbone stained as well from her anxiety, her arousal. She was gorgeous. Sexy as hell.

And she might be his tonight. He was a lucky bastard.

But something didn’t feel right about this. He hesitated, waiting to be clear about what she was suggesting.

“What are you doing, Melly?” he asked, even as he stepped toward the bed, desperately wanting to pull that sheet all the way down and see what other surprises she had in store for him.

Melanie’s cheeks grew pink. “Well, clearly I’m not doing it very well. I’m trying to let you know I want to—” her voice dropped to a whisper “—have sex with you.”

That she was so clearly embarrassed made him feel guilty for pushing her to say yes or no definitively. Maybe she did want to have sex. But maybe she was just feeling raw and emotionally spent. He could be the kind of guy who would take advantage of the day from hell she’d had and get what he could out of it, or he could ease up, take it a little bit slow, see if it was really what she still wanted the next day.

“Is that right?” he asked. “And here I thought I was just your hired muscle.” Wanting her to relax, he followed up his teasing words by leaning forward and kissing her softly on the lips. “I like this job, by the way. Best assignment I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, yeah?” she whispered, breath tickling his lips. “You must be getting a decent paycheck.”

“I’d do it for free.” He brushed her hair off her face and cupped her cheek. As he leaned over her, he could smell the shampoo from her shower and see the pink freshness of her skin, the brightness in her eyes. She looked nervous but certain. Her fingers had risen to splay across his chest, and he found even that simple touch sexy as hell. “I’m glad to be here with you.”

“I’m glad you are, too.” She took his hand and squeezed it, then placed it squarely onto her breast.

Her flesh was warm, her nipple taut. “You sure about this?”

Melanie nodded. “Yes. I’m sure. I wanted this vacation to be a sex fest, and I have a very good feeling you can give me exactly that.”

As his dick swelled, the knot holding his towel in place loosened. “Damn straight I can. You ready to get started?”

Just sex. Just a vacation get it on. That was exactly what he had been looking for, wanting. Melanie was hurt and confused from the unexpected ending to her relationship, so it was actually perfect timing for him. She wasn’t going to have any unrealistic expectations. She would take comfort in being with him, and he would make her feel sexy. Which she was.

He would get some much-needed sexual satisfaction, and she would get an escape from the bad feelings of a breakup. Win-win.

“More than ready.” She sat up, and the sheet fell to her waist. He’d seen her in a bikini, but aside from the beauty of her full breasts and tight pink nipples exposed to him, this view was completely different because she was offering herself to him intentionally. It was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen.

When he got to the edge of the bed, her hand reached out, fingers shaking slightly, and loosened his towel. It fell with a soft thump onto the tile floor, and she sucked in her breath as she stared at him. He swelled even further at her scrutiny. When her hand closed around him, he was the one jerking air into his lungs on a low hiss. That tentative touch was almost more than he could bear.

He pressed her off him and down onto her back, climbing up next to her. She gave a soft cry of surprise. It was then he realized that she had laid out a row of condoms on the nightstand. She had been busy while he was in the shower. For a split second, he was disturbed by the thought that she’d brought those condoms with another man in mind, but he shoved that aside. Fuck Bainbridge. His loss that he wasn’t here. He didn’t deserve Melanie anyway.

Covering her body with his own, his hands on either side of her, Hunter bent down and kissed her softly. “Your lips are delicious. Soft and juicy.”