A Few Good Fantasies (5 page)

Sean withdrew and entered, working his cock in and out of her pussy. As his pace increased, so did Glenna’s pleasuring of her clit.

“I’m going to come,” she moaned.

Sean’s thrusts quickened. She heard his groans and gasps, felt the grip of his hand on her leg, and then she came, shattering against her own hand, her vagina pulsing around his cock.

“Glenna!” he shouted. He pulsed deeply within her.

He released her leg and left briefly to dispose of the condom. Then he returned and gathered her in his arms.

“You are amazing,” he said, kissing her neck.

“So are you.”

IN THE MORNING, Glenna awoke to find the bed empty. Last night, they had bathed each other, ordered room service, and watched television. It had felt too much like a real relationship. But no, Sean was a Fantasy Date. A paid companion. There was nothing real between them.

She sighed, feeling wonderful about her night of wild sex and sad about Sean. Honestly, she didn’t even know him that well. He didn’t talk about himself, though he had asked her plenty of questions.

The last time they made love had been his good-bye. She felt in his kiss, in his touch, in his slow taking of her. She should’ve known that he would wait for her to fall asleep before he left.

As she rolled to her side and gazed at the spot where he’d slept, she saw the white rose and the folded note. Heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, she sat up and grabbed the lovely flower. The note was short:

You were my best mistake.

~ Sean

Glenna inhaled the sweet essence of the flower and smiled.

Chapter 6

“W
HAT THE HELL is your problem, man?” asked Matt. “You’ve been an asshole all day. You need to get laid.”

Sean resisted the urge to punch out his friend since he was right. Sean had been an asshole all day—
because
he’d gotten laid.

She was wrong for me. I’m wrong for her. It was just sex. So what if I liked her? So what if I thought it might be nice to get to know her?

“Sean?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Whatever, man. I ain’t your therapist.”

They were walking along the dock, checking the status of guests who were preparing to the leave the Isle of Romance. It was a routine perimeter check. Overall, Fantasyland was a safe environment, but tourists in any location attracted thieves and cons. There was no way to keep criminal elements out of Fantasyland entirely, which was why the resort employed so many SAs.

On the left side of the dock, were the boats going to and from the Bahamas. Since it was Sunday, the dock was crowded with people headed to the airport. On the right side, was a beautiful ocean view and “photo opportunities.”

Sean checked the right and Matt checked the left. All was well.

“Let’s do a beach check,” said Matt. “Then it’s lunch time.”

They parted at the end of the pier. Once again, Sean went right and Matt went left.

His thoughts returned to Glenna.

Damn it.

G
LENNA FELT THE cold slap of water against her feet. She dug her toes into the sand and looked across the blue water. Sometimes, looking at the ocean made her feel small. But today, she felt as though she was part of something bigger than she comprehend. A cog in the wheel of life.

She splashed into the water, walking until her toes barely touched the sand. She was determined to finish her vacation. Sean was a good lesson for her. He’d taught about risk.

So busy was she thinking about the handsome Irishman, she didn’t prepare for the huge wave rolling toward her. It slammed into her and she tumbled into the water. She couldn’t figure out up from down. She tried to swim, but couldn’t wrest herself from the swirling water.

Then she felt someone grab her arms and drag her toward light, toward air. She burst from the water and gulped in oxygen. Her rescuer held onto her waist as he swam toward the shore.

When they reached the beach, she coughed up water, spitting the salty liquid into the sand. Finally able to sit up, she found herself looking into the green eyes of Sean O’Malley.

“Are you all right, darlin’?”

She nodded. Her gaze dipped to his black T-shirt. On the right side of the shirt was stitched O’Malley and underneath some sort of symbol with an “SA” inside it. She’d seen that symbol in the paperwork she’d signed.

“You’re not a Fantasy Date?”

Sean shook his head. “I’m a Safety Agent.”

“Why were you in the room with all the others? As a joke?”

“The co-workers who locked me in there thought it was.” Sean pushed her wet hair from her face then plucked a piece of seaweed from it.

She pushed his hand away. “I don’t understand.”

“Joanne asked me for a favor. She said you picked me.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Or you wanted to get laid.”

“I won’t deny it. What about you, Glenna? Did you get what you wanted?”

Her anger turned to ashes. How could she be mad at him? She’d paid outrageously for the privilege of dating the perfect man. Instead, she’d gotten the imperfect one. “I wanted romance and you gave me reality. You showed me passion. You made me want to fall in love.”

Sean’s gaze filled with tenderness. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Stay.”

“My bookstore—”

“I’m better than any book, darlin’.” He dropped her hand and cupped her face. “Stay.
Please.
”

Glenna looked into his eyes and saw that he wanted her. Maybe for a while. Maybe forever. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go make some mistakes.”

Pirate in My Pants

Chapter 1

“THIS IS JANEY’S idea of research?” asked Lissa McClaskey as she examined the lobby of the Port Royal Inn.

Made to look like the innards of a pirate vessel, the walls were ribbed dark wood, polished to a high shine. Hanging big and bright above them was a chandelier—something not usually found in the bowels of a swashbuckler’s ship. Neither were the white-marble floors, the cozy arrangements of leather sofas and chairs, and the abundance of potted palms. Still, she had to admit the ambience was very pirate-like.

Her temporary assistant, Sam Tremont, grinned boyishly. He was her younger sister’s best friend. Her sis had developed a bad cold and copped out on the trip
she
had booked.

Janey had been her assistant since they played secretary-and-famous-writer (Lissa’s favorite game) as kids. Janey had been a precocious four and Lissa a very serious thirteen.

“Take Sam,” Janey had sniffled via phone. “He knows everything I know and he’s in-between gigs.”

Sam was a musician. He played guitar and sang beautifully. Lissa always wondered why Sam and Janey just didn’t date and get it over with.

Ten years younger, Sam was tall and lean and cute. He had wavy blond hair and green eyes that blinked owlishly out her from behind horn-rimmed spectacles. If he lost his glasses and his penchant for khakis and dress shirts he never tucked in, he could be mistaken for a surfer.

Instead he looked studious, which he was, and absent-minded, which he wasn’t.

“You wanted to experience the Golden Age of piracy. This place is as close as you’re going to get.” He heaved his laptop bag over his shoulder, gripping his suitcase in one hand and hers in the other. “Let’s check in.”

Lissa held her own laptop and her make-up case. Following her enthusiastic charge to the counter, she sighed. Sometimes, Sam was like a big puppy. She could hardly remember having the exuberance that seemed part and parcel of those still enjoying their twenties. Or maybe it was just Sam who never seemed to tire. She had discovered that there was no fact he couldn’t unearth, no request he couldn’t make happen, and no task he couldn’t do.

The only person who made a better assistant was Janey. She depended on her sister absolutely. Janey made her life as an author bearable, shouldering all the necessary but unpleasant tasks that took away from her writing time. She no longer dreaded book tours because Janey was there: her support, her friend, her conscience.

“It’s a two-bedroom suite,” said Sam, breaking into her thoughts. “Top floor, ocean view. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” said Lissa. “You said there’s a real pirate’s cove here?”

“I’ve already rented the schooner,” he said, smiling. “The captain will take us to all the hot spots, including the cove. There’s also a shipwreck in shallow water that we can scuba dive.”

Lissa stared at his lips. He had a wonderful mouth. Oh! Her cheeks heated at the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Sam was like her little brother and she’d been having not-so-brotherly thoughts about him. Lately, her libido had been … well, kinda frisky.

“Lissa?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”

Embarrassed, she turned away. The clerk handed over her credit card and said, “Let us know if you need anything else, Ms. McClaskey. It’s our pleasure to serve you.”

“Thanks.”

They headed toward the bank of elevators on the right side of the check-in counter.

“Is everything okay?” asked Sam.

Lissa worked up a smile and met his gaze. God, he was adorable. “Everything’s terrific.”

“L
ET ME GUESS. You’re suffering from Jack Sparrow syndrome.”

Lissa looked up from her sweating Seven and Seven. The blonde bartender, whose nametag read Wench Wendy, leaned on the polished wood bar and smiled. It was five o’clock in the evening, too late for afternoon liberations and too early for dinner drinks. The hotel bar, called Kidd’s Kavern, was practically empty.

“Jack Sparrow? From
Pirates of the Caribbean
?” Lissa grinned. That was one of her all-time favorite movies. In fact, she loved any story that put pirates in a romantic light. She knew from her research that pirates were bloodthirsty and ruthless, but they also knew how to have a good time.

“We get a lot of ladies who want to get swept off their feet by Johnny Depp.” Wendy laughed.

“Don’t I know it.” Lissa tapped the edge of her glass. “Can I have another one?”

Wendy poured Crown Royal into a glass and added a shot of 7-Up. After she slid the drink to Lissa, she grabbed a towel and started buffing the bar. “So, what do you do?”

“I write historical romance novels,” said Lissa. “You ever hear of the Pirate Prince series?”

Wendy shook her head. “Sorry. I get all the pirates I can take here. I’m into biographies and true crime books.”

“Oh.” Lissa traced the rim of her glass. “I write about pirates because I like the fantasy of getting captured and seduced by a seafaring rogue.”

“You’re in the right place then.”

Another couple sat down at the bar a few stools down from Lissa. Wendy walked away to tend to the new customers.

After she’d submitted her fifth Pirate Prince novel, her editor had suggested Lissa should consider writing a different kind of story.
How about a paranormal
, she enthused during their last phone conversation.
Could you put a vampire in it?

Lissa wanted to write a paranormal about as much as she’d wanted to endure a double root canal. But she was also a writer who knew which side her bread was buttered on, so she roughed out a few ideas.

Luckily, her editor had gone for a vampire pirate pillaging on the high seas. If it meant getting to write another historical and keeping her Pirate Prince series alive, she’d put in as many preternatural creatures as her publisher wanted. Sure, she had a few logistics to figure out. Where did a vampire captain sleep during the day? What kind of crew would tolerate an undead leader? How did they pillage anything or anyone at night?

Lissa drained the rest of her drink. Where was Sam? After they’d gotten settled into the suite, she’d taken a nap and when she awoke, she found a note from him asking for her to meet him at this bar.

“Miss McClaskey?”

She looked up at Wendy. The woman handed her a single white rose and vellum envelope. It had wax seal on it. Weird.

“What’s this?”

“Just arrived, ma’am. I was told to give it to you.”

Curious, Lissa popped off the seal and slid out the single sheet of paper.

A pirate on a quest

To find a maiden true

Honor this humble behest

And let him capture you…

Below the odd poem were two words: Treasure Trove.

Lissa frowned at the handwriting. She didn’t recognize the sweeping, broad strokes. Who the hell would send her an invitation to be shanghaied?

“What do you make of this?” asked Lissa, handing the page to Wendy.

Her gaze flicked over the words and she grinned. “You’ve been invited to the Pirate’s Pursuit. Pirates row onto Buccaneer’s Beach and chase their ladies.”

“What happens if the pirate catches you?”