Page 16 of Beach Bar Baby

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‘I’m not hammered,’ she said, sure she wasn’t. He’d only let her have two more Rum Swizzles, which he’d insisted on mixing himself behind the bar. And they hadn’t tasted nearly as alcoholic as that first one. Plus she’d pigged out on the popcorn shrimp, some delicious jalapeño cheese things and the chips and dips and othe

r nibbles that had appeared at their table as if by magic between dance sets. Right now she was pleasantly buzzed, but her senses felt heightened, more acute, not dull or fuzzy.

He touched his nose to hers. ‘If you say so, miz,’ he said in a perfect echo of Henry the friendly barman’s Bermudan accent.

The spontaneous laugh turned to a staggered moan as his hands snuck under her camisole and cupped her breasts.

‘Oh, yes.’ She arched into the bold caress as his thumbs brushed her nipples, making the rigid peaks ache. ‘That feels fabulous.’

He laughed. ‘Stop distracting me and answer the damn question.’

She opened her mouth to ask what question, but then he plucked at one pulsating nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and all that came out was a groaned, ‘Yes.’

‘Hallelujah.’

His teasing fingers left her breast to drag her top over her head. And unclip the hook of her bra. He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it over his shoulder, revealing the naked chest that she’d imagined touching all day.

Hallelujah indeed.

He boosted her into his arms, her back bumping the wall, as he wedged the hard ridge between her thighs, pressing it against the damp gusset of her jeans. She gripped his shoulders, her head spinning from the sensory overload. Then he ducked his head to capture one thrusting nipple between his lips and suckled hard.

Fire roared down to her core and she writhed, swivelling her hips to increase the pressure of his magnificent erection on that hot, sweet, swollen spot.

He blew across her wet breast, the cool air making it tingle and tighten more. ‘Damn, but you’re gorgeous.’

‘So are you,’ she said, admiring the bulge of his biceps as he held her up, the bunched pecs and sculpted abs, and the happy trail that bloomed into a forest of dark blond curls where his low-slung jeans had slipped down under the pressure of her clutching thighs.

‘Can I see you naked? Please?’ she asked.

His answering laugh sounded strained. ‘I guess so, seeing as you asked so nice.’ He dropped her suddenly, clutched her arm as she stumbled. ‘Race you.’

She giggled as he hopped around on one foot, wrestling to get his boot off.

‘Don’t just stand there.’ He tossed the boot across the room. ‘Lose the damn pants or you’ll have to pay a forfeit.’

Unbuttoning her jeans, she slipped them over her hips, going for the full stripper effect as she wiggled out of them, and loving the way his nostrils flared as he lost the other boot.

His wicked grin spread, and her heart rate accelerated, as he unhooked his trousers, shoved them down and kicked them off, not once taking his eyes off her.

Her gaze caught on the magnificent erection, standing proud in the nest of tawny curls. ‘Wow...that’s...really rather exceptional.’

He laughed. ‘Have I told you, I love your accent?’ He inclined his head towards the last piece of clothing she had on. ‘Now lose the panties, before I rip them off.’

She whipped them off, twirled them on her finger and flung them away with a flourish.

‘Good job.’ He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the bed, lying down beside her on the surprisingly comfy mattress.

She shivered, the light breeze coming through the shutters scented with the ocean.

His thumb trailed down her sternum. Then circled one heavy breast. She lifted up on her elbows to kiss him. The taste of the cola he’d been drinking all evening was as sweet as the weight of that exceptional erection cradled against her belly. Anticipation roared through her system. It had been so long since she’d felt this sexy, this aroused, this playful.

Ruby was right: why had she always been so serious about sex after college? She planned to correct that right now—she licked into his mouth, loving his staggered groan—with this gorgeous, hot, wonderfully reckless guy who was a gift she couldn’t wait to unwrap.

His hands framed her face, his fingers plunging into her hair. She wrapped greedy fingers around the thick erection, slid her hand from root to tip, assessing its girth, its length, imagining it embedded into that aching, empty place between her legs.

But he swore softly as her thumb glided over the plump head, gathering the slick drop of moisture—and grabbed hold of her wrist, to tug her hand away.

‘I’m way too close for that, sweetheart, but how about...?’ His voice trailed off as he traced his thumb between her breasts, circled her belly button, then delved into the hot, aching flesh of her sex.


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance