“I do,” I say breathlessly. Desperately.
He grabs his wallet from his shorts pocket, produces a condom, then hands it to me.
My brow knits. “Um . . .”
Then I shift to an “Oh” as Caleb strips in seconds flat.
And hello.
He’s even hotter naked.
Like, tropical-island-dream hot.
Like so damn sexy I want to watch him walk out of the ocean, all ripped muscles and wet hair and thick cock.
“Happy vacation to me,” I say, wrapping an eager hand around his length.
He shudders, groaning as I stroke him, then he slides his hand inside my panties again, stroking my clit. I shudder, pleasure already rolling through me, as if the time we’ve spent over these last few days—talking, teasing, trying new things—has been all the foreplay I could ever possibly want.
As tension coils inside me and I grow close, closer still, he pushes my hand away. “Need to get inside you, Skyler. Now,” he commands, and same. Same here, Caleb. Let’s go.
I give him the condom, hurriedly stripping out of my dress and panties as he covers himself. As soon as he does, he grabs my thigh, wraps my leg around his hip, and rubs against my wet center.
“So good,” I gasp.
“So fucking good,” he answers, then he sinks inside me in one delicious thrust.
My world spins off its axis.
This is too intense. Too yummy. Too fantastic.
It’s out of my comfort zone but totally in my yes, more, give me more zone.
Caleb drives into me, clasping my leg tight around him, filling me then pulling out to fill me again. With each thrust, waves of pleasure crash over me until I’m panting and moaning.
With my arms roped around his neck, I drag him as close as he can get as he fucks me against the wall.
“Harder,” I beg.
And this man with the body carved by the outdoors gives me everything I want—a good, hard tropical tryst in my hotel room, ignoring every rule.
Exquisite bliss is just out of reach. It’s almost here. And I want it, and like he senses what I need, he drops a hand between my legs, stroking me as he drives into me just so.
Just right.
It’s so damn good that I break apart in ecstasy, the night, the trip, and the no-man-plans fading away.
“Coming,” I cry out, and he growls in my ear, groaning through his own release before he stills, shudders, then sighs.
Sighs as deeply and happily as I do.
12
Skyler
Light filters through the hotel window, but I float in a luxurious fog between “Hey, it’s morning” and “I’m on vacation.” The bed shifts with a rustle of sheets, and I remember every detail of why this morning feels so decadent—he’s stretched out beside me, propped on one elbow.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Caleb says, all rumbly voiced and sexy.
I smile lazily. “Hey, yourself.” Then I notice he’s dressed, and I switch to a pout. “You’re going?”
“I need to get out of here to get ready for Hanging with Sea Turtles. I’ll see you in a couple hours, and let’s pretend I didn’t fall asleep in a customer’s hotel room.”
“News flash . . .” I stretch my arms over my head with a satisfied purr. “You did more than fall asleep.”
“Mmm . . .” He leans over for a kiss. “Keep making that sound and I’ll be late.”
I reach up to curl my fingers in his hair. “Turtles are slow. You can catch up.”
Even his chuckle makes my toes curl. “Not really the point, but still a good one.”
“I won’t tell your boss you’re moonlighting as a deliveryman for multiple Os. Thanks for making mine a double, by the way, with one on the side.”
“The pleasure was all—well, equally—mine.” With one last, quick kiss, he rolls out of bed in one move, like it’s that or not leave at all. I wouldn’t mind, but can see why that would be a problem.
“Don’t worry about telling the boss,” Caleb says, making sure he has his phone and wallet. “He already knows, since the boss is me.”
“You are?” I sit, tugging the sheet up with me.
“Yes. I own the company.” He glances at me, curiosity in his expression. “Does that bother you?”
“Um, no. Just surprised.” I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me. His experience shows, and I definitely saw his bossy side last night. “How long have you been in business?”
“I started the company about seven years ago, but I’ve been leading tours since I was twenty-three. I was on the swim team in high school and college, but competitive swimming wasn’t a career path.”
“Seems you found another path into the water though.”
“I can’t seem to resist the sea. Or the pool. Pretty fond of showers too.” His eyes roam downward as if he’s imagining the things we could get up to under the spray. Then he drags himself back to the topic. “But anyway, yes. I studied business so I could actually do something with my aquatic skill set.”