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Authors: Trista Ann Michaels

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BOOK: Three Wicked Days
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“This yacht is incredible.” She took a sip of her champagne and continued to admire
her surroundings.

They’d begun to move but the partial overhang protected them somewhat from the wind.
The full moon reflected on the water, creating a wonderfully romantic scene that could
melt even the most hardened woman.

“Would you like dinner now, sir?”

They both turned to the chef who stood just inside the sliding glass doors, leading
to a small living area. His white coat was slightly stained and his hat sat askew.
Kayla grinned at the image.

“Now’s perfect, thank you,” Steve replied.

“So what are we having?” she asked once the chef had moved back inside.

“I thought Italian would be good since you love it so much.”

“How did you know that?”

“Jordan,” he replied then took a sip of his champagne.

“Ah, helpful Jordan,” she replied dryly.

Steve chuckled. “He takes care of you. I was given the don’t-hurt-her-or-I’ll-have-to-hurt-you
speech.”

The heat of a blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We agreed to keep it strictly physical and so long as we both know where
we stand, we should be okay.” Steve hoped he sounded convincing. Because he was starting
to doubt his own words.

*

Kayla nodded in agreement, but inside her stomach gave a little flip. Hearing it said
like that made it sound so impersonal. The only problem was, if he kept doing things
like this, keeping it only physical would be extremely difficult.

The chef stepped forward and placed salad, bread sticks, a bottle of red wine, and
lasagna before them. Her mouth watered as the scents of basil and garlic washed over
her. God, she loved Italian food. They both thanked the chef, and he headed back into
the boat.

“Unless you’re having second thoughts,” Steve said, his voice low and soft.

“What?” she asked, temporarily taken aback.

“About keeping things strictly physical.”

She moved her gaze back to the food and poked at the pasta covered in cheese and meat
sauce. Was she?

“No,” she lied. “Let’s talk about something else. The last thing I want to do is ruin
a perfectly good evening with talk of relationships and our agreement to keep a lack
there of.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “So we change the subject. I understand your dad flew for the airlines.
Which one?”

“Continental. He did the South American run.”

Steve grimaced. “That’s a tough one. The accents are really hard to understand. There
can be communication mistakes between the tower and cockpit.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “He had the same complaints.” When she saw him, that is.

“Are your parents still together?”

She shook her head and drank a sip of wine that Steve had poured her. “No. They divorced.
Religious differences.”

“Religious differences?”

“Yeah. She was raised southern Baptist, and he was Satan.”

Steve laughed and then waved his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve learned to try and find the humor in things. If I didn’t, I think
I’d go crazy sometimes.”

He smiled. “I know what you mean. But surely your dad isn’t as bad as that.”

“No, he’s not. He was a great dad, just a lousy husband. I always swore I would never
get involved with a pilot.”

She quickly looked away and gulped the rest of her wine. She hadn’t meant to say that
or to delve too deeply into her personal life. The less they knew about each other,
the better. At least in her opinion.

They finished their dinner in relative silence. Kayla had three glasses of red wine—way
more than she should have. It warmed her blood, made her tingly. She watched Steve
walk over and turn up the radio. She closed her eyes for a second to try and ease
the lightheadedness and dizziness. Soft music floated along the breeze, and she smiled.
Jordan again, apparently. Celine was one of her favorites.

He held a hand out to her, and she opened her eyes to stare at his upturned palm.
So large and strong, yet so gentle.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

Glancing up at him, she placed her fingers in his. The desire in his deep green eyes
flashed, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. He tugged her up and into
his arms. The warmth of his body seeped into hers as they swayed to the music. The
warm night breeze ruffled her skirt and brushed the bare skin of her ass. She’d left
her underwear in the room in the hopes she could entice another round of sex. She
couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His lips were level with her forehead and he placed a light kiss there against her
skin, making the butterflies in her stomach flutter madly. The hand at the small of
her back flattened, his fingers splaying then bunching in the fabric of her dress.
She moved closer, brushing her nipples against the fabric of his white shirt. They
hardened instantly, and she bit down hard on her tongue to keep from moaning and making
a fool of herself over something so minor.

He stiffened, then increased the pressure at her back, pulling her closer. His cock
pressed into her stomach, and she inwardly smiled as it hardened.

Letting out a deep breath, he rested his forehead against hers. He smelled of Italian
food and Polo cologne. She even caught a hint of champagne and strawberries. His lips
were so close, and she wanted him to kiss her so badly. Letting go of his hand, she
traced his sensual mouth with the tip of her finger.

His hand dipped lower, rubbing across her bottom through the silky material. His other
palm slipped under the skirt and squeezed her bare behind.

“Aren’t you the daring vixen,” he whispered.

“I had to think of a way to get you interested,” she purred.

“Sweetheart, I was interested the second I saw you in this dress. Those long legs,
that adorable ass.” His palms squeezed both cheeks, rubbing her stomach against his
hard cock. “You make me crazy, Kayla.”

His lips burned a trail down the side of her neck, making her flesh break out in goose
bumps, and a need built in the pit of her stomach. Her arms slid around his neck and
held on. She had to. Her knees were so weak she could barely stand. Tilting her head
further back, she made room for him to softly bite where her neck met her shoulder.

“I want to slide my cock inside you. Feel your hot, wet walls ripple along my length.
Just like you did earlier,” he moaned against her skin. “You felt so good, Kay.”

Every limb, every muscle bunched and shook with need as his mouth captured hers in
a slow, deep kiss that curled her toes. She had to have him. Now.

Chapter 6

“What about the chef and captain?” Kayla asked, barely able to catch her breath as
his hands moved along the flesh of her hips and thighs.

“They were told once dinner was served to give us privacy,” he whispered against her
lips.

“Oh,” she sighed.

His fingers burned a trail along her ribs and the underside of her breasts, setting
her on fire. “I um…” she mumbled, the heat of a blush moving up her cheeks.

Warm, strong hands framed her face as his teeth nipped at her lips. “You what?”

“I brought the um…”

Steve smiled. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

She cringed. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Then say it. What did you bring?”

She bit her lower lip and inwardly groaned at the blush she could feel heating her
face. Damn him. “I brought the vibrator, dildo thing.”

He grinned, mischief shining in his eyes. “Where is it?”

“In my purse. I’ll get it.”

She stepped toward the table, needing the few seconds out of his arms anyway to get
herself more under control. She still couldn’t believe she’d told him her fantasy.
To have him fuck her pussy, while he fucked her ass with the dildo. Just thinking
about it made her skin tingle and her heart skip.

She pulled out the dildo, but Steve took it from her hand.

“Come here,” he said, leading her to the small outdoor sofa along the edge of the
railing.

He set her down, placing the dildo on the cushion next to her, and then moved back
to the table for a glass of champagne. She watched, mesmerized as he placed the glass
on the deck, then removed his shirt. The moonlight played on his tan skin, giving
his flesh a silverish sheen. Thick, firm muscles rippled as he moved, and she actually
licked her lips in anticipation. She reached out and ran her fingers across his nipple.
It beaded into a hard bud before he snatched her hand and brought it to his lips.
The tip of his tongue touched her knuckle and a sharp tingle ran up her arm.

“This night is about your fantasy, Kay. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

She swallowed and watched as he slowly moved his palms up the inside of her thighs,
pressing them wider.

“My shoes,” she gasped.

He shook his head. “Leave them.”

Lifting her hips, he moved her dress up around her waist, then slid her straps down,
exposing her breasts to his primal gaze. The material was now bunched around her waist
as he leaned forward and captured one of her nipples between his teeth. She gasped
as hot sparks flew from her aching mound straight to her throbbing pussy.

Before switching to the other breast, he fisted the material in his hands and lifted
it over her head. For a split second, she felt uncertain. Covering herself, she glanced
inside the yacht.

Steve tugged her hands down, pinning them at her sides. “Forget about them, sweetheart.
They won’t watch.”

“Sure about that?” A warm breeze blew across her exposed skin, and she shivered despite
the heat.

His lips quirked. “I told them if they did I would kill them.”

One side of her mouth lifted. “No you didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

With a grin, he captured her lips in a deep kiss, his tongue delving, exploring. With
his hands at the small of her back, he pulled her to the edge of the cushions and
rubbed her against his hard shaft. The rough material of his slacks against her swollen
clit sent a jolt of white-hot lust to her core.

“Steve,” she murmured between kisses and tightened her thighs against his hips.

He broke the kiss and pushed her back onto the overstuffed pillows behind her. With
a devilish quirk of his eyebrow, he tipped the champagne flute and drizzled the drink
onto her flesh. She gasped as the cold hit her breasts, then giggled when he began
to slowly lick it from her heated skin.

His teeth bit at her extended nipple and she yelped, but then moaned as he gently
suckled it. The man was driving her insane.

Taking a sip of what was left of the champagne, he held it in his mouth, then leaned
over. Tugging at her lower lip, he opened her mouth and kissed her, allowing the champagne
to flow from his mouth to hers. It was the most erotic thing anyone had ever done,
and she shivered from head to toe.

Moving lower, his mouth nipped along her hips, then moved to the inside of her thighs.
Her pussy screamed for his mouth, and she raised her hips, silently begging him to
taste her.

Finally his tongue made a long, slow sweep up her slit, and she gulped in a rush of
air.

“God, you are so sweet, Kayla.”

He lapped hungrily at her opening, the tip of his nose teasing her sensitive nub.
Oh, God, she was so close. Her hips moved in time with the thrust of his tongue, her
fingers scraped at his scalp, trying to pull him closer. His hot mouth sipped and
plundered, bringing her ever closer, then pulling back leaving her orgasm just out
of her grasp.

He reached for the dildo and pushed it into her dripping channel. She bucked her hips,
pulling it deeper. “Oh, yes.”

“No, no,” he admonished playfully and slid the dildo out. “You’re not coming yet.”

“Damn you, Steve!” she snapped.

He just chuckled and moved the head of the dildo between the cheeks of her ass. His
teeth made soft bites at her labia while he gently slid the dildo up the tight channel
of her bottom.

She moaned at the almost painful stretching, but once it was in place, the pain went
away, leaving a feeling of fullness that sent heat up her spine. Slowly, he moved
it in and out, letting her body become accustomed to the sensation, the movement.

“Do you still want this, Kayla?” he rasped, his voice strained with passion.

“Oh, God yes. If you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’m going to wring your neck.”

Pushing the toy in as far as it would go, he helped her to move to her knees, her
back facing him. With a quick tug, he undid his slacks, freeing his engorged shaft.
He quickly slid on a condom then positioned his rod at her opening. The head of his
cock slipped into her wet opening, filling her even more.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “You’re going to be tight.”

But Kayla couldn’t wait any longer and pushed back against him. With a growl, he shoved
forward, burying himself balls deep. Kayla screamed in pleasure as he stretched her
to the edge of pain, the dual sensation of him and the dildo almost too much.

His fingers pulled at the toy as he drove his cock in and out, moving them together
in a steady rhythm. She gasped at the added fullness but moved with him. “Oh, my God,”
she groaned, as her body became more accustomed to the invasion and pleasure soared
through her.

“Is this what you wanted, Kayla?” he purred from behind her.

“Yes. It feels so good.”

“Oh, hell yeah it does,” Steve mumbled.

“Steve,” she screamed as her release slammed through her hard. Her pussy gripped his
cock over and over while the walls of her anus pulsed around the dildo. She’d never
felt anything like it. Every muscle in her body quaked, every nerve tingled.

In a quick move, he pushed the dildo deep and turned her to face him. “Come here,”
he said as he sat on the sofa and lifted her onto his lap. She straddled his cock
and slid down, taking every inch of his thick shaft. She whimpered as the pulsing
sensations began again, consuming her.

His hands guided her hips, moving her in a quick, deep rhythm that enhanced her pleasure.
Her clit brushed his groin and she sighed as her release came again, stronger than
before. “Oh, God. Steve. I can’t,” she whimpered, unsure she wouldn’t pass out from
the intensity.

BOOK: Three Wicked Days
5.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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