Michael Donovan finished unpacking and headed straight to
the wet bar in the suite's living room. He poured whiskey into
the tumbler and downed it in one swallow.
Ahh, the sweet burn. Maybe he'd just drink himself into oblivion
tonight.
He knew better than to have relationships with women. He just
wasn't any damn good at them. Ginny was just the latest example
of his failure to even remotely understand the feminine mind.
He'd be much better off to steer clear of anyone bearing estrogen
for the week he was at this resort.
He'd started to pour another glass of whiskey when the doorknob
rattled and a sound like someone fiddling with the lock caught
his attention.
Great. Housekeeping. They could bring more whiskey. He threw
open the door, ready to tell the maid to keep the liquor cabinet
stocked.
The woman standing there was no maid. He didn't know if she
was part of the amenities of Paradise Resort or not, but she
sure beat the hell out of a gift basket. No gift basket had
ever made his cock twitch.
Her generous mouth hung open in surprise. He waited for her
to speak.
Nothing. Not that it was a problem. He'd be perfectly happy
to while away a few minutes staring at the curly blond hair
piled on top of her head, those cute wire rimmed glasses that
couldn't hide her sea green eyes, and watch her lick her lips
with a tongue that already had his mind whirling in thoughts
of sex and sweat.
Sex. Too bad Ginny had backed out at the last minute. Fucking
fashion models! So skinny her hip bones stabbed him when they
fucked. So he'd just spend time doing research on his next
book. Too bad he wouldn't have the live, female version of
research to help him on his way. Not a girlfriend, not a woman
he actually had to pay attention to. Just a fucking partner.
No strings attached.
Like the one standing in front of him. Beautiful face and
expressive eyes, but she wasn't really his type. Too bookish
and her clothes fit too loose. And she was possibly mute.
"Can I help you?" he finally
asked.
"I ... uh, I..." She shuffled
back and forth, her arms laden with what looked like a huge
backpack. Dressed in
linen pants and a loose blouse, she surely couldn't be hotel
staff. He tilted his head sideways, trying to imagine what
kind of body she hid under those clothes.
"Are you lost?" he asked.
"I don't think so. This is room
ten, right?"
Michael scanned the door. "That's
what it says."
"Then, um, I think there's been
some mix-up."
"Why?"
"Because this is my room."
He laughed. "No, this is my room."
"I have a key," she said, holding
out the white plastic thing that hotels nowadays insisted
on using. He missed
regular keys.
"I can see that. But this is still
my room."
She blew a stray curl off her face. "Could
I put this stuff down for a minute? These bags are heavy."
"Sure." He grabbed for the bag and almost dropped
it to the ground. "Jesus, what do you have in this thing?
Rocks?"
"No," she said, rolling her shoulders now that the
weight had been lifted from them. "They're my books."
Paradise Resort offered every erotic amenity, and the woman
brought books? Interesting. Then again, he'd brought his laptop,
but that was because this was more or less a research trip
for his next book - he wasn't here to indulge in the sexual
amenities the resort provided.
Correction - he had planned to indulge in sex with Ginny,
before she conveniently remembered that she had a shoot booked
in Bali this week. More likely she was bored having him as
her boy-toy-du-jour and had already found another stud to satisfy
her. Fine with him. He was getting a bit bored with her anyway.
"Come on in," he said, "and
we'll get this figured out."
She peered in, before gingerly stepping a few inches inside
the door. He stifled a laugh at her timidity. She sure didn't
fit the mold of what he was led to believe were the usual type
of guests here. Bold, adventurous, forward - those were the
types of people he expected to see this week. This one looked
like a librarian. A librarian with a sexy mouth.
"Thanks. I don't know what's happened, but I'm sure the
resort can figure it out." She was nervous, her eyes darting
every which way.
"Relax. I'll call downstairs and
have the manager find you another room. Take a look around
if you want."
She nodded and headed toward the balcony overlooking the water.
The ocean breeze whipped at her hair, blond tresses flying
every which way.
Holy shit! She had some body hidden under those clothes. He
almost dropped the phone when the wind pressed her blouse against
generous, full breasts. Straining nipples appeared ready to
poke through the silky blouse. Hips made for a man's hands
swelled against her pants.
Fuck. It had been too damn long since he'd been with a woman.
Damn Ginny and her globe trotting trips. Ah, hell, it was over
between them anyway. The sex had been fun, but the girl was
the biggest airhead. And once he got out of bed, it would be
nice to have an intelligent conversation with a woman.
He'd yet to find one who could satisfy both his sexual and
intellectual appetites. That hadn't happened since he'd been
with Mari. He thought he'd found everything with her. What
he'd ended up with was a one way ticket to misery and divorce.
Never again. Women were for fucking and fun. Not forever.
The woman on his balcony had double Ds written all over her.
And not just her breasts - she was desirable, which made her
dangerous to him.
He quickly dialed the manager, hoping
to get "Double
D" out of his suite as quickly as possible.
Serena Graham stared at the man on the
phone, her heart racing. She'd almost dropped her bundles
when he'd opened the door.
First, he'd scared her to death because she hadn't expected
anyone to be in her room. And second, he was an Adonis. Dark
hair fell in unruly waves against the back of his neck like
that movie star she drooled over all the time. He even had
the same intense blue eyes, the kind that pierce right through
you as if they can see inside your thoughts. Hopefully this
man didn't have a mind connection to her—she'd die if
he knew how she admired him.
Too bad she wasn't gutsy enough to ask him to help her.
"Bad news," he said after he
hung up the phone.
She turned and watched him walk towards
her. "Bad news?"
"They double booked this room. And
the hotel is full for the week."
This could not be happening to her. She'd scrimped and saved
part of her salary for over a year, bound and determined to
grab some sexual excitement for once in her life. She'd read
up on all the hedonistic resorts, and Paradise was the best.
Unfortunately, it was also the only resort on this small island.
She wasn't even sure she could get a flight back to the mainland
today. What was she supposed to do? Sleep at the little airstrip
until the next plane arrived?
"I see." Despair filled her. She sank into one of
the cushioned chairs and buried her head in her hands. "Give
me a minute and I'll get out of your way."
He studied her and seemed to be considering something. Probably
how quickly he could get her out of his room.
She wasn't a sex siren. She wasn't the type of girl men fell
over themselves to get close to. This whole trip was going
to be a disaster. What had she been thinking? That she'd suddenly
transform the minute she stepped onto the island?
Professor Serena Graham from a small Midwestern college was
way out of her league with movie-star-man. Changing her clothes
and putting on a front of sexual experience wasn't going to
fly. Her inexperience would quickly trip her up.
What a mess. Maybe she should just give up and grab the next
plane home.
"You don't have to leave, you know."
She raised her head, not sure she'd heard
him right. "Excuse
me?"
"I have an idea."
"An idea?"
"Are you meeting someone here at
the resort?"
"Me?" Her eyes widened. "No.
I came alone."
"Then you can stay here with me."
He was joking, right? She looked at him, all of him, from
his wide shoulders and slim waist to the muscular thighs straining
against his shorts. He was way more man than she knew how to
handle.
But wait. Isn't that what she wanted? Someone to touch her
in a way she'd never been touched before? Someone to throw
her down and fuck her the way she'd been dying to be fucked?
She wanted adventure, fantasy and hot, unbridled sex. Why not
with this guy?
No, stupid idea. Very stupid. "Oh,
I couldn't."
"Why not? This suite has two bedrooms.
I won't get in your way if you don't get in mine. Think of
us as roommates."
Roommates. A thought sailed through her
mind, but she quickly brushed it away. Having anonymous sex
was one thing. Having
it with someone she'd be sharing a room with for a week was
another matter entirely. Then again, at least she'd have a
place to stay. And most of the "activities" occurred
in the specialized rooms, not in the resort's bedrooms. At
least that's what the brochure had said.
"If you're sure you don't mind?"
His gaze seemed to penetrate her clothes, making her feel
like she was sitting there naked instead of completely covered.
"I don't mind at all."
Deep and husky, his voice stabbed at her middle, heat and
liquid desire pooling together and making her squirm. Maybe
this wasn't such a good idea.
Then again, maybe it was. "Thanks.
I'll do it."
"Michael," he said holding
out his hand.
She stood. "Serena." His warm hand sent little electric
shocks through her. Funny, that had never happened before when
she'd shaken any guy's hand. Her body trembled, her pussy tingled
and flared to life as if to scream out, "This one! Choose
this one!" He was dangerous and sexy and made her feel
dangerous and sexy, too.
He'd be the kind of man who'd take whatever he wanted from
a woman. Fire her up and make her burn for him. Make her scream
his name when she reached the pinnacle, then beg him for more.
C'mon Serena. This isn't a movie. The good looking guy isn't
going to pick you out of a crowd and make your dreams come
true. And he sure as hell isn't going to make you come until
you scream.
The only way she was going to get some hot and heavy action
was to do it herself, just like always. It wasn't like she
was inexperienced in these matters. She just didn't get the
right guys. She got the losers. The ones who couldn't find
their way to her pussy without a road map, and once there hadn't
a clue what to do with it.
Okay, time to think logically and intellectually about this.
She'd wanted some hot, unbridled passion, and right now the
hottest guy she'd ever met had just become her roommate for
the week.
"Are you here alone?" she asked.
He nodded, then frowned. "Why?
"Why would you come here by yourself?" She
had thought her being alone would make her a minority.
"I could ask you the same question," he
said, folding well-muscled arms across his broad chest.
She licked her lips, her gaze riveted to the dark hairs peeking
above the top of his shirt. Her nipples tightened and she silently
thanked the fashion gods for loose tops. Although the wardrobe
she'd brought with her would put her, so to speak, front and
center, with nothing to hide. She hoped she could handle it.
No, she had to handle it.
"I didn't want any entanglements this week," she
lied, hoping she'd sound worldly and sophisticated. Definitely
not how she felt. It was the clothes. Once she changed clothes,
her personality would follow suit.
He nodded. "I understand. Want to
play around a little, do ya?"
She had no idea what she really wanted.
But she'd never tell him that. "Yes, that's it."
"Well, take the bedroom down the
hall to the left. I'll call the hotel manager and let her
know you'll be staying with
me."
"I'll pay for half the cost, of course," she
said, gathering up her backpack.
He stepped towards her and took the pack from her hands, following
her down the hall.
"Not necessary. I've got it covered.
I'll have your luggage brought up here. Then you can unpack
and make yourself at home."
She turned and placed her hand on his
chest. It was like touching fire. He burned her instantly
and she almost pulled away. Almost.
But he felt good, dammit. She didn't want to pull away. She
wanted more. "I want to pay for my share of the room.
It's only fair." Then, noticing how his eyes lingered
where her hand rested, she quickly pulled it away. Okay, so
she wasn't as brave as she'd like to think she was.
"Up to you. I'll go make that call."
She nodded and closed the door behind him. The room was lovely,
with tropical flowers embroidered on the bedspread. The white
furnishings reminded her of a paradise bungalow. Then again,
that's what this place touted itself as - paradise. Depending
on the type of paradise one searched for, of course.
After her luggage arrived, she unpacked her things, feeling
a giddy excitement at the games she'd play over the next week.
Hot, sexy games. With a lot of different guys. No, maybe just
one. She wasn't promiscuous, just horny. At tonight's introductory
cocktail party she'd scout out the merchandise and choose one
that got her juices flowing. Which right now could be any guy
with a penis.
Would all the men be as hot looking as Michael? Probably not.
And why was he here alone? Did he expect to find a woman to
play with? Maybe she should make the offer before the party
tonight. After all, he certainly fit her criteria. Tall, bronzed
like a Greek god, incredibly good looking. And she was certain
he could satisfy her, judging by the way her panties moistened
just thinking about him.
She imagined the two of them together - what they'd do. What
would Michael be like as a sex partner? Would he be willing
to indulge her fantasies? Or would he expect her to lie still
while he fucked her?
No. That's what she'd experienced before. Plain, no frills,
vanilla sex. Nothing in it for her but a few moments of anticipatory
excitement before the man came and she didn't. That's what
she found in Kansas. Not at Paradise Resort. Satisfaction guaranteed,
they'd told her. And she was planning on ending the week-long
stay extremely satisfied.
Maybe she would start with Michael. Why not? If she was going
to transform herself into a brave, wanton sex siren, what better
place to start than with a man who'd already gotten her hot
without even touching her?
