Tawny Weber - Call To Redemption

He was simply being a gentleman.

God, that was sweet.

But she wanted sex, not sweetness. And the sooner they found privacy, aka her hotel room, the sooner she figured she’d get him naked.

Then he smiled. A flash of white against dusky cheeks.

And her heart yearned.

“I’d like to walk,” she heard herself say.

“Perfect.” Still holding her hand, he lifted it to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles before leading her toward the spiral staircase. She saw him signal to the waiter, settling the dinner bill with a simple head tilt and nod.

Why that should be almost as sexy as kissing her hand, she couldn’t say. But it got her even hotter.

They silently walked hand in hand down the shell-encrusted path bisecting the sand. To the left was a row of bungalows, each one set farther away from each other than the last. To the right was the ocean, the waves dancing in time to the beat of the band’s cover of Poison’s “Something to Believe In.”

He bypassed the as-advertised crowded lanai filled with celebratory sounds and gyrating dancers. The path he chose was well lit, with tall tiki torches spearing from the ground every ten feet and strings of twinkling fairy lights strung between. The juxtaposition of the primitive and the whimsical only added to the fantasy feel.

About halfway down the beach, far enough that the resort crowd was shadowed specks, he stopped.

Stepping off the path, he pulled her into his arms. His gaze held hers as he lowered his mouth, the kiss a soft whisper that filled her with a heady need even as it asked, and waited.

Still the gentleman, she realized.

She bit his lower lip, sucking the flesh between her teeth to lave it with her tongue.

He gave a low growl of approval and, obviously reading her answer correctly, took the kiss from sweet to incendiary. Tongues thrusted, teeth scraped, lips melded in a hot dance of intense pleasure.

She skimmed her hand under the hem of his T-shirt, her palm smoothing the hot planes of his abs. The rock-hard muscles were a vivid contrast against the soft fabric of his shirt as her fingers climbed higher, smoothing and circling their way up to his chest.

God.

There had to be another exclamation that would do justice to his awesomeness. But she couldn’t think of it. Bottom line, the man had the body of a god.

“I have to say, this fantasy is even better than I’d expected.”

“Darling, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Dominic promised.

That cocky assurance was almost as much a turn-on as the feel of his bare chest beneath her fingers. She shivered a little as desire grabbed hard and strong.

He untied the straps of her dress, stepping back so the fabric fell, unimpeded, to her waist. Darby stood in the moonlight, shoulders, back and chest bare, as turned on by the look on his face as she’d ever been by anything else in her life.

His eyes caressed, his expression admired.

Then he touched.

And she damn near came.

His fingers swirled, skimmed, teased her nipples into new heights of aching pleasure. She dug her hands into his shoulders, wanting more, needing everything.

“Privacy?”

“That’s my bungalow,” he murmured. His mouth slid soft kisses over the aching curve of her breast.

“Inside?”

“I will be.”

Darby’s laugh was a breathless puff of air.

The logical, analytical, cautious voice in her head that was usually in charge of her every choice screamed at her to stop. This was insane. She didn’t even know the guy’s last name, had met him less than four hours ago, and was getting naked on the beach when there were perfectly private walls to get naked behind only a few feet away.

She needed to stop.

She gasped when his fingers skimmed inside the elastic band of her thong, sliding over the throbbing wet heat between her legs.

Or at least slow down. Yeah, slow down long enough to eliminate one of those issues from the list. The last name. Or knowing each other longer. Or even walls.

Walls were good.

“Here?”

“Now.”

Her breath coming in pants, Darby knew very little oxygen was making it to her brain. But there was enough—just barely enough—to spur her to ask... “Sand?”

A little rough stuff could be fun. Exciting, even. But she didn’t think sex and exfoliation should go hand in hand. Or, in this case, thigh-to-thigh.

“Leave it to me,” he promised, the words hot and moist against her flesh as he slid nibbling kisses over her throat.

He lowered them both to the sand, shifting so she was sitting on his lap. His hands moved faster now, racing over her bare flesh, teasing and tempting. As she tugged off his T-shirt, he sent her dress flying.

Clothes disappeared, bodies heated. His hands were everywhere, his mouth hot and wet as he lifted her high over his body. His fingers delved deep into her wet heat, stirring her hotter and higher as she poised above him.

He took care of protection in a swift, easy move before pulling her back into his arms, then positioned her over the impressive power of his erection.

“Give yourself to me,” he demanded, his husky words melding with the sound of the surf.

Watching his face, reveling in the appreciative pleasure she saw there, Darby slowly took him inside her. Her breath shuddered out, body quaking with the first orgasm as he filled her.

He let her set the pace, watched her like a hawk to gauge her pleasure, taking his own as he intensified the moves that she liked best.

Need tightened, coiling hot and hard.

He reached between their bodies, his fingers sliding over her wet, throbbing folds.

She exploded.

The roar of pleasure surged through her, ripping her to pieces. The feel of his climax, the grip of his hands on her hips, only sent her flying higher.

Holy freaking hell, was all she could think as she tried to reconnect her mind and her body.

Darby didn’t know how long it was before she melted into his arms, the sound of the ocean’s waves playing a soft backdrop to the feel of her body slowly floating down from passion’s crest.

Damn, she thought as she tucked her head under Dominic’s chin.

This fantasy thing was amazing.

* * *

NIC WAS GOOD. Damn good.

He’d never had to think much about it. He considered that a simple reality. And given the amount of verification he’d had over the years, he’d never had reason to doubt that reality.

But with Darby, damn...

He’d met his match.

He’d figured she was hot. He wouldn’t have introduced himself to her otherwise. He’d felt a connection—he wouldn’t have hit on her otherwise. He’d figured they’d rock the sex. But he hadn’t expected her to make him pant with need, then blow his mind. For a man known for his skill in seeing probable outcomes, it was one hell of a nice surprise.

They’d hit it on the beach, then they’d followed up with round two on his bungalow floor. He was pretty sure she’d have slipped out the minute they found their clothes again, so he’d snagged her underwear and carried her into his bed.

He called that strategy.

He called their third round of hot sex incredible.

Now, his body hummed with bone-deep satisfaction, the kind that could only be had from mind-blowingly intense sex. He counted the beats of his heart, waiting for it to return to normal. But even as Darby’s breath warmed his chest, his body stirred for another round. She burrowed closer as the night air drifted over their entangled bodies, her thigh sliding over his already hardening erection. Desire shot through him like an electric current, energizing even as it demanded satisfaction.

Figuring she needed sleep—or at least a little time to recover from that last sweaty bout of passion, Nic carefully slid out of her arms. Snagging the comforter from where they’d kicked it to the floor, he carefully draped it over her, tucking the ends to keep in the warmth.