Her Island Fantasy, an erotic novella (Bridesmaids in Paradise) (6 page)

He couldn’t believe when she’d told him she wanted to role-play with him, couldn’t believe how much that had turned him on. That she had let him cuff her had spiked his desire. He’d never expected her to be so exciting, so adventurous. Was it because they were in Hawaii? Maybe once they got back to Texas everything would change.

That didn’t matter anyway, did it, since this thing they had going on was only an island fling, right?

“So what’s the plan tonight?” he asked. “Are we all getting together for dinner?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Tomorrow we’re all going to Pearl Harbor. Your dad really wants to go there.”

“Yeah, sounds like just the place for people to go before their wedding.”

“Well, it makes you appreciate what you have.” She sat up and looped her arms over her bent knees. “So the cop thing—I never thought I’d see you in action. You didn’t hesitate.”

He shrugged, looking out toward the ocean. “Not something I thought I’d get to demonstrate. Training kicked in.”

“Do you go running after trouble a lot?”

He twisted his head to grin at her. “I ran after you, didn’t I?”

She stuck her tongue out. “But you’re in vice, right, so I guess you do.”

“Let me tell you something about police work that no one told me,” he said, rolling onto his stomach to look at her. “It’s hours and hours of sitting on your ass, writing reports, doing surveillance, looking up shit on computers, and maybe ten minutes of what you saw today.”

“Ten minutes when they could have turned around and shot you.” Her eyes were solemn.

“Yes, ten minutes like that.” He sat up. “Now, are you going to let me rub sunscreen on you or not?”

She gave a delicate shiver, and her eyes brightened as she produced the sunscreen. He crawled to sit on the towel behind her, bending his legs on either side of her hips, and swept her hair forward over her shoulder, baring her back. He squirted some lotion onto his palm and rubbed his hands together before smearing it over her soft skin. This position, with her ass cradled in his hips, his hands on her shoulders, brought another position to mind, one they hadn’t tried, and he shifted closer as he grew hard at the image.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes laughing, and he was about to drag her to her feet and back to the hotel when he heard,

“There y’all are!”

He looked up to see his parents walking across the beach toward them, and his desire flagged. He dug his heels into the sand in an attempt to put some space between him and Bailey. Jesus, was he blushing?

“Hey, how was the helicopter tour?” he asked, reaching up to shake his dad’s hand.

“Spectacular. You two missed it.”

“I saw it when we were out here last,” Bailey said. “It is amazing.”

He braced himself, waiting for her to tell his parents about the shooting, but she didn’t say anything else.

“Kinda warm to be sitting out here,” his father said, sitting on the towel he’d abandoned. “Aren’t you going in the water.”

“Bailey can’t.”

His mother lifted her eyebrows at that as she lowered herself gingerly to sit beside her husband.

“I just got my navel pierced,” Bailey said, easing back to show them. “Can’t go in the ocean or a pool for a few weeks.”

“Bad timing,” his mother said as his father leaned closer to get a better look. She smacked his arm and he straightened.

“I thought I’d do it while I had the courage.”

Again he tensed, waiting for her to say something like, “Speaking of courage…” His mom didn’t love that he was a cop, loved even less that he was a vice cop, hated that he carried a gun, hated worse that he was sometimes on the other end of the gun. She didn’t need to know he’d faced it here.

“She got a tattoo, too.” He tapped her hip beside the small symbol.

“What does that mean?” his mother asked.

“‘Believe.’ When I was losing the weight, it was my motto, what got me to the gym every day.”

“Paid off,” Ian said.

His father cleared his throat and sat back. “We were looking for you to tell you we want to take our boys to dinner tonight. We’re taking Haven, so of course you’re welcome, too, Bailey.”

“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “This is just—no, you all go. It’s not my—y’all have fun.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re important to Ian, we want you to be there. Besides, do you have anything else to do?” his father pressed.

“Oh, there’s plenty to do around here.” She waved her hand toward the hotel. “Really, this is family time, and I’m not family.”

“Ian, tell her she’s welcome,” his father said.

Ian’s tongue was tied. Bailey was right—this thing between them was temporary, not something that warranted her being included in a family dinner. At the same time, he wanted her to join them, knowing he’d appreciate her company, and Haven would, too. But if she went to dinner with his family, would she expect more from their relationship than he was ready to give?

“Dad, she doesn’t want to come, it’s not like we’re abandoning her. Joslyn and Andrew will be around.”

“We don’t want you to feel like a fifth wheel.”

“Mom, I’m good. Really.” But he could feel the tension in Bailey. Had he said the wrong thing?

She pushed to her feet, leaving him feeling vulnerable. “I’m going to go cool off. I can go in the water as long as I don’t get it wet,” she said, and without looking at any of them, she hurried toward the ocean.

“Oh, dear, did we make her uncomfortable?” his mother asked.

“Considering I’ve been hanging out with her for about twenty-four hours, I’d say yes,” he said.

“She’s a nice young lady, Ian. I hope you’re treating her right.”

“Dad,” he protested, feeling his face heat. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you,” his father said, rising stiffly from the blanket. “We’re meeting in front of the hotel at six to get to the restaurant by seven. You don’t need a tie, but long pants and real shoes would be nice.”

***

Bailey looked over her shoulder when Haven opened the door to the hotel room after dinner with the Vieras. Bailey had propped her feet on the balcony rail and was reading a romance novel as the sea breeze washed over her.

“Hey. How was dinner?”

“Good. You should have come. The Vieras said they invited you.”

“They did, but it would be weird sitting at dinner with just them and you and Eric and Ian.”

“Just us,” Haven said with a laugh.

“You know what I mean. Ian and I are just fooling around. We’re not heading anywhere close to an aisle after Saturday.”

“You’re certain of this?” Haven sat in the chair next to her and took off her heels.

“I’m certain it’s not going past this week.”

“You’ve talked about it, then?”

“No, we haven’t talked about it. We don’t talk. We have sex. We both knew what we wanted going into this. I’m not going to pretend it’s something it’s not.”

Haven leaned over and placed her hand on her arm. “I know you better than this, Bailey. Your heart is too big. You’re going to let him in.”

“I’m not. I’ve changed. I mean, yes, I still want the husband and family and the picket fence. But I don’t want it with Ian.”
Liar
, a little voice in her head said.
You already have
.

“Why not?” Haven asked.

Someone knocked on the door and both women glanced in that direction.

Haven turned back to her friend. “Why not Ian?”

Bailey didn’t want to say it—Ian was completely out of her league in looks and confidence. Instead she said, “He’s still on the rebound from Mallory and I’m perfectly fine with that.”

Haven frowned, skeptical, but when the knock sounded on the door, she rose to answer it.

“Hey, Ian.”

Despite herself, Bailey’s heart bolted into her throat when he said, “Hey. Bailey here?”

Criminey, she hadn’t thought she’d see him tonight. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt over her shorts, no make-up, her hair in a ponytail…and no way could she slip into the bathroom to fix herself up without him seeing her. She stood, swept a hand over her hair and with as much confidence as she could muster, turned into the room with a smile.

His grin broadened when he saw her, which gave her a boost, especially since he was still dressed from dinner in slacks and a dress shirt. The tie and jacket she’d seen him in before dinner had been ditched, however.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“Is that what you kids are calling it these days?” Haven asked breezily, heading toward the bathroom. “Me, I’m heading down to the pool, so if you want to stay in…”

“I’d like to go for a walk,” Bailey said.

“Need anything out of here?” Haven asked, motioning to the bathroom.

“I’m good,” she said, sliding her feet into her flip flops.

“Hang on,” he said, toeing his shoes off and leaving them inside the door. “Don’t want to wear them on the beach.” Still standing, he used one foot to stand on the toe of his other sock to pull it off, and repeated the process. Curling his toes, he picked the socks up with his foot and dropped them on top of his shoes. “All set?”

Bailey looked from the little pile to his feet to his face and shrugged before joining him in the hall and closing the door behind her.

“I brought you a present,” he said, presenting her with a styrofoam container and two plastic forks. “I thought we could have dessert on the beach.”

Dessert. Wow, she hadn’t had dessert in… “What is it?”

“Some super chocolate creamy cake-pie thing.”

He popped open the container to show her a thin slice of heaven. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.

“I just gained ten pounds smelling it.”

“We’ll share.” He closed it up again. “And we’ll work it off later. Because I brought you another present too.”

A little thrill went though her. “You bought me a present with your parents?”

“It was in the gift shop when I went to buy more condoms.”

Her nipples hardened. God she was easy, if him talking about buying condoms turned her on. “What is it?”

“You’ll see. Dessert first. You did eat real food, right?”

“I ate with Joslyn and Andrew.”

He linked his fingers through hers as they walked through the lobby. She caught sight of their reflection in the glass door and winced—class and beach bum, what a contrast. But he didn’t seem to notice as they walked through the doors and across to the beach. He found a spot apart and dropped down into the sand, unmindful of his dress pants. He handed her a fork, opened the container and held it toward her.

She took a small sliver, hoping she didn’t regret this, feeling like an alcoholic taking a chance on a drink after being on the wagon. “All things in moderation,” she whispered.

“Not all things,” he whispered back, his head bent close.

She took a bite and moaned in pleasure. He shifted, drawing his legs up.

“I thought I was the only one who got you to make that sound.”

“Orgasms and chocolate. But only good orgasms and good chocolate.”

He took the container from her. “I’m not sure I want the competition.”

She took it back. “Oh, no. You started this.” With the tines of her fork, she marked a dividing line, giving him the bigger piece.

“You moan like that again and I won’t be responsible for what I do to you here in public.”

She looked over the darkening beach. The sun had gone down a half hour ago, so most people had left. “I hear that’s a popular fantasy, but that you end up with sand in undesirable places.”

“Oh, I’m definitely taking you back to the room for that. But I might be tempted to get started out here.”

She took another bite, this time with an exaggerated moan. “What would you be tempted to do?”

He shifted closer and took a bite of his own before answering. “I might wonder if you’re wearing a bra under that shirt, because to me it looks like you’re not.”

She swallowed, her nipples harder. “Not,” she confirmed.

“I might sit behind you like I did when I was putting the sunscreen on you. Do you know how hard I was then?”

She shook her head, though she’d definitely felt his erection against her ass.

“I’d get you to pull your legs up under the shirt, like you’re cold, and I’d reach up under it. I’d start with your nipples because you like me to start there. Then when you’re having trouble catching your breath, I’d slide my hand down under the leg of your shorts and creep up until I find your hot, wet clit.”

She whimpered at his use of the word and closed her eyes, almost, almost feeling the action.

“I’d circle it first, and then stroke it, maybe put my finger inside you. You’d be hot and wet and gripping me.”

The cake was forgotten, almost tumbling out of her limp hand before he caught it, briefly stirring her from her fantasy.

“People would walk by and see me kissing your neck, see the pleasure on your face, and I’d slow down, because when you come, you’re just going to come for me.”