Bare In Bermuda (13 page)

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Authors: Livia Ellis

Tags: #Erotic Romance

BOOK: Bare In Bermuda
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He grabbed her hand before she disappeared and kissed her fingers. After she'd slipped into the bathroom, he did as instructed and removed his clothing. He left his underwear on, purely because he wanted her to remove them.

The breeze coming through the open window brushed over his body like a caress. Laying on the bed, waiting for a lover, anticipating what would come—he'd found paradise again. As he fell into bed, landing on the cool sheets, his body ached with a longing he didn't know could ever be satiated. Sighing, he raised his head, throttled the pillow, and then let it drop again. Out the doors and past the balcony, the moon was milky, white, and pure in the night sky. Sounds of the night floated in along with the breeze off of the sea below.

As he lay there, his legs twitched restlessly. His body demanded he ease the ache that threatened to make him scream in frustration. Either purposefully or by accident, Henna forcing him to wait for her attention pushed him to a point that she could ask him for anything and he'd more than likely move a mountain to get it for her.

Closing his eyes, he stretched his legs down, then pulled up his knees, allowing his legs to fold comfortably open. He bent one arm behind his head, then let his fingers crawl down his stomach until he reached the band of his underwear and his cock was exposed to the night. He changed his mind about having her remove his underwear. It was gone with a quick tug and a toss to the side.

He stretched his nude body, working, moving, and pulling his muscles. His stiff cock pointed straight to the ceiling. It wanted Henna to get out of the bathroom as much as the rest of him did. The bed moving from the pressure of her joining him made his cock twitch and him smile.

“You weren't starting without me, were you?” Her nightie was pale and colorless in the moonlight. A wicked smile brushed her lips.

“No,” he said. “Never.”

She bent down to kiss him. When her mouth bypassed his and went for his cock, he nearly came. The tingle of pleasure her lips created as she toyed with the tip, and only the tip, sent a shock down his body equaled to the thrill he'd experienced the first time her mouth had taken him.

She pulled back, and he saw the tilt of her smile as she looked him fearlessly in his eyes. “I just don't know what I want to do to you yet,” she said. “Do I want to suck you off? Do I want to get on top of you and ride? Do I just want to lie on my back and let you have your way with me? What do I want?”

“Whatever you want you can have,” he said.

Her hand released him, then she fell on her back. “Ravage me like you're some undersexed horny sailor that hasn't seen a woman for four months. No. Make that six months.”

He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. “Am I allowed to laugh when you say things like that?”

“I wish you would,” she said. “I never say things like that. But with you, I don't know what comes over me. I say ridiculous things and I act like someone else. I don't recall hitting my head, but then maybe I did and I just don't remember.”

He leaned over her, partially covering her body with his. Her tongue sought his as her toned arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. After a moment, he moved to his knees and found a place between her legs.

The flimsy piece of cotton she wore was pretty and unnecessary. He wanted to rip it off her. He also knew if he shredded another piece of her lingerie in a moment of passion, she very well might strangle him with it. Instead, he pushed it up and out of the way.

With her nightgown bunched around her waist, he went exploring. He placed his hands on her feet then walked his fingers upwards until he brushed the firmness of her thighs, the smoothness of her hips, and the pert roundness of her breasts, finishing with a flourish as he pulled her nightdress over her head letting it fly to the floor.

“You're very pretty,” he said. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

“No,” she said. “But I'm so much more than pretty.”

“That you are sweetheart.” He pushed her legs apart until they lay spread against the bed. His nose nuzzled the her pussy. “You smell like summer.” With his tongue, he ran a line from one end of her slit to the other. The involuntary twitch of her body with accompanying gasp made him grin. “And you taste like honey.”

He leaned back against his heels and gazed down at her. As he stroked one finger down her slit, inching deeper with each pass, her legs moved restlessly against the mattress. Her hips tilted upward, encouraging him to work harder and faster as her hand covered his, pressing it against her clit.

“Henna.” He smiled. There was nothing quite like an eager lover to make his work more pleasant. “Can you just let me be in charge right now? I know what I'm doing.”

Henna moaned but released his hand. To assure he would be able to proceed uninterrupted, he took her hands and placed them behind her head. Her pink tipped nipples thrust upward, tempting him to distraction from the task at hand.

He returned his finger to her sensitive flesh of her pussy, running it around the rim in smaller circles each pass until it slid effortlessly into her opening. She was snug and hot around him, her clenching muscles threatening to take his finger off. Her hips twitched involuntarily, encouraging him to stroke her. Henna was definitely not the woman for a man who was insecure in his own ability to please.

She growled with displeasure when he removed his finger then purred with delight when he inserted two. He slid them out then plunged them back inside as the pad of his thumb pressed against the hard nub of her clit. Her climax was growing. He could feel it in the movements of her body, the rapidness of her breath, and the speed of her blood coursing through her veins. Her passage closed around him, pulling him deeper. His own desire thudding inside him was tamped down, at least momentarily. Her pleasure was his primary goal—at least at that moment. In time, he would find his release, but not before he brought her to the climax she so wanted.

“More,” she whispered, moving against his fingers. He withdrew his fingers, widening then gently as they gradually slid out. Before she could protest, he lowered his mouth to her wet sex, breathing in the heady aroma of her desire. With his fingers, he parted her labia and slipped his tongue into the top of her cleft, drawing a line through the cream then returning to the bundle of nerves of her clit. Beginning gently, he swirled his tongue as one finger returned to her passage. When her fingers dove into his hair, he lashed at her with his tongue. She shuddered and trembled as she cried out, her first orgasm shuddering her body. While her body recovered, he cupped his hand against her sex squeezing as her muscles convulsed.

“Marvelous,” Henna sighed, lying back against the pillows. “What's next?”

He reached inside the nightstand and snatched up a condom. “Why do you have the giant bag of condoms?”

“My brother is a total slut,” she said. “They're for him. It's a joke. Never mind. There is a story I'll tell you some other time.”

Chapter Seven

Henna's bedside phone jangled in her ear, waking her from the most delicious sleep she'd had in as long as she could remember. Eduardo rolled over, and his hand cupped her bare hip, pulling her away from the persistent telephone to promises of a morning to remember.

“Get rid of them,” he whispered as his body curled against her.

She snatched the phone, determined not to let the unwanted intruder on the other end ruin what promised to be a perfect morning. “Hello,” she snapped.

“Good morning, sunshine!” her father chirped into the phone.

“Daddy,” she gasped, sitting up abruptly and knocking the amorous Eduardo off her. “You're here.” She fumbled out of the sheets that wrapped and twisted around her like a vine.

“Your mother and I just arrived along with Leo, Aunt Midge, and your suitcase that you left behind in the airport,” her father said. “That doesn't sound like you. The girls are on their way up with your bag.”

“Mom is coming up to my room?” She started tossing discarded clothing at Eduardo who grinned a bit too merrily as he dressed.

“Get yourself up and come down and have breakfast with us,” her farther said. “I can't wait to see my little girl.”

“Okay, bye.” She slammed the phone down. “You have got to go
now
.”

Eduardo finished buttoning his shirt. “I'm going,” he said warmly. “I have a daughter. I am certain she knows men, but I would not want to know this.”

“I'm sorry to just kick you out.” She slipped into a hotel bathrobe as she scanned the room for signs of her night with Eduardo. She grabbed the trashcan and started brushing empty condom wrappers into it. “But you need to get out.”

“I truly understand.” He tossed his linen suit jacket over a shoulder. “Do you honestly think this is how I want to meet my new daughter's parents for the first time?”

“Probably a really bad idea to meet my father like this.” She went to the door and opened it. She stuck her head out the door. No sign of her mother and Aunt Midge. “Coast is clear. Out you go.”

He grinned as he gave her bottom a quick squeeze and passed through the door. “Henna. You might want to hide the zipper bag of condoms.” Again, he chuckled.

“Check.” She gave him a very quick peck. “Bye.”

“Ciao.” He kissed her one final time, then walked directly across the hall and through the door opposite hers. The moment his door closed, her mother and Aunt Midge rounded the corner with her carry-on.

“Hi!” she said warmly when her mother Judith and Aunt Midge reached her door. Judith pulled her carry-on inside her room and left it next to the bed.

“Where's Simon?” Her mother asked, looking around.

“Sick.” She edged over to the desk where the open condom bag spilled out onto the blotter. “He stayed in San Francisco.”

Her aunt watched her with a raised eyebrow and a knowing grin. Nothing got past Aunt Midge, mother of five sons. Henna followed her aunt’s eyes to a discarded male sock peeking out from under a chair. She gasped and her aunt chuckled.

“What?” Her mother started fussing around the room, opening curtains, and tidying discarded clothing.

“Nothing.” Midge walked across the room. “Just thought of something hilarious.” She reached the sock with her shoe and gave it a small kick out of sight when Henna’s mother wasn't looking. Henna loved her Aunt Midge.

“Why haven't you unpacked yet? Please don't tell me you've lived alone so long that you're letting standards slip. It happens you know. Live alone too long and things like personal hygiene and tidiness might not matter so much anymore.” Her mother picked up her discarded dress then took it to the closet and slipped it over a hanger

“Mother. Living alone is not going to make me stop bathing and picking up after myself.”

“Which is why your dress was tossed on the floor? You should marry Simon.”

Henna checked the clock just for accuracy. Her mother had been in her room for less than a minute before mentioning her and Simon in the same sentence.

“I can't understand why the two of you don't get married.” Her mother tsked. “He's Jewish and a doctor and quite honestly darling, you're not getting any younger.”

“Mother! I am not going to marry Simon. Why do we have this conversation every time I see you? Why? He has a fiancé.”

“Waverly is distasteful. You two get along beautifully. What more could you ask for? I’m sure he'd get rid of her, if he knew you were interested. You're good friends, you get along beautifully...” There was no stopping her mother when she got the Simon bug in her britches. But there was tuning her out. Henna went to her carry-on and zipped it open while her mother and Aunt Midge continued the Simon-Henna debate without her participation.

“She doesn't love him!” Aunt Midge snapped. “For the love of god Judith, let it go!”

“I'm just saying....”

Inside her bag was her dress. The perfect dress that cost as much as her first car. It didn't look like much hanging from her fingertips, but thrice weekly yoga classes and daily cardio workouts had earned her a figure that filled the shimmering gold sheath perfectly.

“Is that your dress?” Aunt Midge asked as she too gave up on Judith and joined her.

“What do you think?” She held up the gold dress to her body.

“Honey, if I had your rear, I'd wear the same thing. We could be twins.”

She put her arm around her aunt's shoulders and squeezed. “You're gorgeous you know.” She kissed her aunt on the cheek. She put the dress in the closet then went to her bag. “Shoes.” She picked up the strappy silver sandals with the nearly four-inch heels that went with the dress.

“I may just have to borrow these forever.” Aunt Midge took the shoes from her. “Honey, you have got taste.”

“How much did those cost?” Judith took the shoes from Midge.

“Who cares?!” Midge cried. “Henna is single, fabulous, solvent, and can spend a bundle on a pair of shoes if she wants to.”

“That's right!” Henna smiled at her aunt who gave her a wink. “I'm single, fabulous, and can spend my money however I want to.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out her underwear, which was set on the bed before she pulled out the necktie she'd chosen for Simon along with his suit, shirt, and shoes. Simon wasn't the most fashion forward of men. Forcing him to spend money on clothes represented one of the few contributions to Simon's life that Waverly had made of which Henna approved.

Judith took the suit jacket from her and shook it out. “This is ridiculous you know.”

Midge picked up the corset to go under Henna’s perfect gold dress. “This is gorgeous.”

Judith picked up the matching trousers and waved them like a flag. “Then why do you have his suit in your carry-on?”

“Because I didn't want to take any chances either of us would lose our luggage and not have anything to wear for the wedding.”

“The two of you act like married people.”

“No we don't.”

“How are you two not like married people?” Judith demanded as she shook the necktie at her.

“Married people have sex,” she countered.

“Well, sweetheart, I'm sure it wouldn't take much to get Simon into the sack. Don't think I don't know what happened in my rumpus room Thanksgiving last year. You two can blame it on the booze, but mother knows better.”

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