“Uh, yeah?”
“What can I do for you?”
“Oh.” I blink. It doesn’t help. I just go straight back to staring at him like a sex-starved nympho. “I was, uh, thinking about what you said.”
He leans a shoulder against the doorframe. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
And … what was I supposed to be coming over here to tell him? I forgot.
No. I’m supposed to tell him no to all the sex.
But just look at him. He’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of sexual experience. Something to tell the grandkids about. Or not because that’d be gross. But when I’m home and alone in bed, I’d have those memories to keep me warm at night.
But it’s not a good idea, Dillon. Remember, you could get hurt again.
Hurt is bad.
But sex is soooo good.
No. Stop it. Stop thinking about the sex and how big his cock might be and how good it would feel inside you. Or how that sexy mouth of his might taste or if his muscles would feel as hard as they look.
Just say no to all of the sex with the hot American man. Say no and turn and walk back to your villa. And then get a cold shower.
Right. I’m gonna do it.
“And … well, I thought it over, and it’s a … yes.”
twelve
Dillon
Yes? What the hell, Dillon?! You were supposed to say no.
Oh, who am I kidding? I was always gonna say yes. Look at him, for fuck’s sake. I’d have to be crazy to say no to sex with him.
Those full lips of his pull up into a smile, and I almost come on the spot. His hand reaches out and grabs hold of mine. I’m tugged inside his villa. The door is closed, and I’m pushed up against it.
My breath whooshes out of me.
I’ve never been manhandled like this before. I really like it.
West presses his body up against mine. And it’s fucking heaven. He feels so good. Hard against my soft. Except for my nipples. They’re very much hard.
West stares down at me. His lips so very close to mine. “Are you sure you’re okay with everything we discussed? Just sex and no contact after we leave here?”
I feel his warm breath against my skin.
I swallow and lick my lips. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
Then, he kisses me.
And holy hell.
We both dive straight into the kiss. There’s no sweeping brushes of lips or gentle pecks.
This is an I’m kissing you like I really wanna fuck you kiss.
The feel of his mouth against mine is amazing. His lips are soft yet firm.
He tastes of toothpaste and utter sin. He smells like sex and the ocean. He’s in all of my senses. It’s overwhelming but in the best kind of way.
Total aphrodisiac.
But to be fair, he could just stand in front of me, fully clothed, and I’d get turned on. Because hello, hotness.
When his tongue touches mine, I feel sparks shoot through me.
Kind of like when the battery dies on your car, so you put jumper cables on it and use another car to get it going. That’s what West is doing to me. Charging me with his jumper cables.
And that sounds really lame. So, yeah, never say that out loud to him.
But whatever it is that I’m feeling right now, it’s exhilarating, and all he’s doing is kissing me.
I never felt like this when Tim kissed me.
West kisses like he knows exactly what he wants … me.
Why the hell am I thinking about my ex right now? I’m wrapped around the most physically beautiful man I have ever seen in my real life. And on television.
My hands slide up that hard chest of his, and my arms loop around his neck. His skin is so much softer than I expected. But his muscles are as hard as I thought they would be.
I wiggle closer to him. Our bodies are already pressed together, but I need to get closer to him. Impossibly close.
West’s arm goes around my waist, pinning me to his body. His other hand grabs a handful of my hair, tilting my head back slightly, taking control of the kiss.
I hear a whimper and realize that it came from me.
God, I love the way he kisses. Lush and deep. He kisses with meaning. Telling me that this kiss is leading to somewhere really fucking good.
The hand around my waist slides down to my butt, gripping it, and he urges me up onto my tiptoes.
I feel so tiny compared to him.
He’s so fucking built. I’ve never been with a man as big as him. It’s probably stupid to think, but he makes me feel girlie. Feminine. And I really like it.
His other hand leaves my hair and grips my other butt cheek. He lifts me, and my legs go around his waist.
We don’t even break the kiss.
He presses me back against the door. His lips move from mine, kissing down my neck. He starts thrusting his hard dick against me, sucking on a sensitive spot on my neck. The sounds coming from me are unintelligible.
“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, trailing his tongue over the swell of my breasts.
My hands slide into his hair, and I tug his mouth back to mine, and then we’re kissing again.
His hand moves up my side and under my top.
His fingers trail just below my breast. My braless breasts. I came over here, forgetting that I had no bra on. Because I was in bed, and really, who wears a bra to bed? Not me—that’s for sure.
When his fingers touch the bottom of my boob, he freezes. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he says against my lips.
“I was in bed.”
He groans. “I need to see them. You. Now.” He pushes off the door, taking me with him.
He strides into the main area of the villa, and I’m lowered to my feet next to the bed. I tilt my head, staring up at him. His lips are swollen from my kisses, his hair messed up from having my hands in it.
He looks fucking beautiful.
And right now—and for the next two weeks—he’s mine.
Rough, strong fingers curl into the hem of my pajama top, and it’s lifted. I raise my arms above my head, and West tugs it off.
My hair falls around my shoulders.
Dropping my top to the floor, West takes a few steps back and stares at me.
My skin prickles under his perusal.
Normally, I feel self-conscious when I’m naked in front of a man. Even one I know well. But with the way West is looking at me right now, I feel nothing but desired.
I can’t ever remember anyone looking at me the way that he is right now. With such open hunger. Like he’s going to devour me whole. And I’m going to let him.
A shiver moves through me.
“I was right.” His voice is rough.
A gulp. “About?”
“Your tits. They’re real.”
Huh?
“You thought I had fake tits?”
“No, I thought you had real tits, and I was right.”
“Okay … question … is this what men think about when they see a woman naked for the first time—if she has real or surgically enhanced tits?”
“I don’t know what other men think about. But I’m just a tit man. It’s been a long while since I last saw a pair that hadn’t been under the knife.”
“I honestly don’t even know what to say to that.”
His lips quirk up into a dirty grin. “You don’t have to say anything.” He takes a step forward, back to me, and cups my boobs in those large hands of his.