By the Book (2 page)

Chapter Two

Hell. He should have waited to take a
shower until
after
he’d found Devine La Fleur on the Web. Actually, he
wasn’t sure a shower would do him any good even if he ran the water ice-cold.
He’d found her all right. Her website even showed a picture of her, though it
looked like it might have been taken several years ago. But there she was. All
warm brown hair and big chocolate eyes, stubborn chin and full pink lips. He’d
read a few of her excerpts, which intrigued him enough to download one of her
e-pubbed books. Leading him to buy another. And then another and another until,
hours later, he’d read everything she had available online.

Never having read a romance novel before,
he’d have said they wouldn’t keep his attention or appeal to him in any way.
But her books were similar to the detailed sci-fi novels he liked to read, full
of intrigue, interesting characters and developed worlds with the tantalizing
addition of sex—steamy, creative sex. After reading her stories, his body ached
with sexual hunger, each movement more painful than the next as his clothes
brushed against his erection.

Sleep was out of the question as impatient
and on edge he prowled his home looking for something to do. Something to take
his mind off the curvaceous woman resting just down the hill from him. After
completing several circuits of his living room he gave up and headed for the shower—a
cold one this time.

The water worked to cool his body but the
images Joey created with her books continued to play through his mind. Thinking
to distract himself by using the telescope he kept on the third-level deck of
his sprawling home, he climbed the stairs to his office and stepped outside,
hoping to watch whales or anything else he could spy at sea. Sitting in the
comfortable chair placed before the scope for long hours of pleasant ocean
viewing, he looked through the lens and sighed. There wasn’t enough light yet
to see anything in the water, as full dawn remained an hour away. He should go
to bed and get some rest.

Getting to his feet, he glanced in the
direction of his new neighbor and caught the low glow of a porch light.
Temporary neighbor, he reminded himself. Sitting back down, he adjusted the
telescope, his subconscious admonishing him against what amounted to spying on
her. He knew she was probably asleep. He firmly tamped down on the guilt by
telling his inner voice he’d just take a look to make sure she was all right.
Yeah!
Good story
, he thought.

* * * * *

Joey woke up in stages, enjoying the
lingering images of her dream. Her body felt swollen and damp with unfulfilled
desire. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt such a strong arousal and
it delighted her to realize she still could. Too bad the stimulation came from
a dream of her sexy, short-term neighbor, Gray Hawk, and not the real thing.

She’d followed him to her house last night,
waved goodbye, and then unloaded the groceries, eaten her chicken pasta, and
passed out with exhaustion. She hadn’t even taken time to unpack her clothes or
research materials. She’d just pulled her sleep shirt out of her carryon and
changed into it before falling across the bed and into a series of steamy
fantasies centered on uncovering and exploring Gray’s body.

Rolling over, she looked at the clock and
groaned—four a.m., it wasn’t even light out yet. Well, with the time
difference, her body seemed to think it should be eight in the morning. Time to
get up.

Remembering the house she’d barely glanced
at the night before, she looked around her. She sure hoped this little
adventure worked. Flying to Hawaii might be a little extreme but she
desperately needed a change of pace for her peace of mind. The nasty period of
time leading up to her divorce seemed to make it impossible for her to write
the sensual scenes she needed for her books. The verbal battles with Mike had
left her exhausted and she shied away from creating even fantasy sex.

Even after he moved out of the house and on
with his life, he used every possible opportunity to point out her faults. His
message on her answering machine a week ago had been a typical example of the
man’s insensitivity. He called to ask her for their set of crystal champagne
glasses—one of the few possessions she’d wanted to keep. He didn’t just ask for
them, he spent several minutes listing her shortcomings as he saw them and
ended with his observation that she wouldn’t be using them, as she never
entertained or did anything worth commemorating. Then he made sure to give her
the long version of how he was moving up in the world and besides the many
upcoming celebrations of his success—he wanted to use them to toast his
upcoming marriage to his sweetie.
Jerk
. She didn’t mind him getting
married again. Good riddance. But she’d be damned if she gave him those glasses
or anything else. She did use
one
of them anyway, to celebrate each book
sale.

Of course it had been awhile since she’d
sold anything. The damn glasses were gathering dust in the cupboard. Let’s be
truthful. She could write stories aplenty. But right now she couldn’t write
sex. Her reaction to Mike—both in bed and out—directly contributed to the
decrease of steam and need she’d been able to transfer to her books. When she
thought of sex, she thought of the last time she and Mike made love. Nothing
inspiring there! He’d acted like he was doing her a favor, when instead all
he’d cared about was his own quick, unimaginative orgasm. A legendary lover in
his own mind; the reality turned out to be no foreplay, no heat…just stick it
in and out a couple times and move on. He’d left her feeling so used and
frustrated she’d been happy to be left alone.

She hadn’t felt sexy or attractive or even
remotely interested in a man since.

An erotic romance writer who’d lost her
heat; the lovemaking in her stories ended up flat and they were too damn much
work to write. Worse, once written they were unreadable.

Which meant somehow she needed to
rediscover her sensual side. The brush of her sensitive nipples against her tee
shirt as she climbed out of bed and the trickle of need between her legs
reminded her she’d somehow rediscovered an interest in at least one male,
proving she hadn’t lost all of her sensuality. Look at what her body did in
reaction to just the thought of Gray!

Smiling, she tried to move her thoughts in
another direction and she remembered the lengths her fellow authors went to
inspire her. They’d sent her pictures, both real and computer generated, of a
variety of interesting men, Embarrassingly well-endowed hunks with packages she
really wouldn’t want pointed at her—it would have to hurt! Her author group
kept forwarding ideas intended to get her hot and bothered and they wrote
snippets meant to make her laugh and giggle and forget about Two-Minute-Mike
Her best friend and critique partner, Nancy, had sent a silly little joke right
before she left.

A truck carrying a load of Viagra has
been hijacked!! The police are looking for a gang of hardened criminals…

Ha, ha!

She understood her problem—she didn’t feel
like laughing and unfortunately nobody “bothered” her anymore. Nothing got her
creative juices flowing. Literally. At least no one had caught her interest and
imagination until she met Gray Hawk. Her libido switched on and her mind
sparked with all kinds of inspiration with just a glimpse of him. She wondered
if the newfound interest could be a byproduct of jet lag. She hoped not. It was
past time for her to start wondering about a man’s touch or what he would kiss like.
Taste like. Feel like. Against her, skin to skin.

She needed to recover her sensual side not
only for herself, but also for her career. Since her publisher’s motto happened
to be moresexmoresexmoresex, the lack of spark and excitement in her unfinished
manuscripts was a big problem.

Joey decided it would be wise to
concentrate on something else before she started hyperventilating. This trip
needed to be about putting the past behind her and moving forward. Besides, she
hadn’t even looked at her retreat yesterday as she’d stumbled in the door with
her suitcases, other than the fantastic view of the house she’d seen as she
drove up. She’d followed the circular driveway to the back of the house where
she’d parked the car in a daze. Even jet-lagged she’d immediately fallen in
love with the place and the fabulous view of the ocean. The house was built on
stilts, with a big wraparound porch and thatched roof with large windows—it
looked like a Mexican palapa, the little beach bars scattered all over Mexico.
The only thing missing was the alcohol.

The short walk down the hall from the
bedroom left her intrigued and she wanted to see what this place looked like.
Starting a room-by-room tour, she soon realized she’d chosen the perfect place
for a getaway. This place was incredible. It had high, open-beamed ceilings and
hardwood floors, accented with all sorts of exotic woods on the walls and in
the furniture. The cushions on the couch and chairs were a mixture of colorful
Hawaiian prints, all reds and blues. She counted three bedrooms and two
bathrooms. The bathroom located off the master bedroom included a beautiful
picture window right in front of the whirlpool tub.

Joey assumed the window overlooked the
beach. Right now it was too dark to tell. Remembering the information she’d
received on the home said there was a hot tub and outdoor shower in a private
garden—guaranteed to be a ‘must use’ for any true tropical experience—she
headed out the French doors in the master bedroom to look for it.
Ahh…

Standing in stunned amazement, she drank in
the ambiance of the little piece of paradise outside the door. The master
bedroom ran along one side of the house with the master bathroom facing the
beach located in the part of the house that was on stilts. The bedroom was in the
back and built on a small hill so it sat at ground level. Outside the bedroom,
the owners had built a low rock wall enclosing a large area.

Plants and flowering bushes filled the
space. Hot pink bougainvilleas covered the rock surface of the barrier, creating
a secluded and very private area. This part of the home appeared to be a lush,
tropical paradise created to pamper the soul. The combination of textures and
colors, of plants and lava rock and wood—created a sybaritic wonderland begging
to be sampled.

She saw a large hot tub in one corner.
Tempting. But her body felt too energized and needy for a relaxing soak.
Turning, she noticed an exotic outdoor shower built against the wall just
outside the French doors and to the left. Small benches fashioned at different
levels within a lava rock wall and a massage showerhead on a hose suggested
enticing possibilities. Now this was more like it! After her dreams the night
before, built around the temptation and inspiration of Gray’s hard body, she
wanted some form of physical satisfaction. She could take advantage of today’s
inspiration and put the showerhead to good use.

The warm and exotically scented night air
teased her senses, enveloping her in its humid touch. She felt her arousal
blossom, grow.

She’d turned the amber colored bug light on
when she walked out the door. Taking a moment to glance over the walls, she
reassured herself she wouldn’t be seen. There were no close neighbors who could
glance out a window and see into this private oasis. Too dark to see much of
anything away from the light, and remembering all the plants and bushes
surrounding the back of the house, she felt comfortable stripping off her
clothes. She could see Gray’s house up on the hill but it was pretty far away
and there were no lights on in the windows. She should be safe.

Joey’s body blushed in anticipation. Secure
in the knowledge no one would see her, she still thought of Gray asleep in the
house overlooking her shower garden and her toes curled tightly. Her body still
tingled from the combination of meeting and then dreaming of hot sex with Gray.
She hadn’t lost the faint throb of attraction in the hours since she first met
him. Turning on the water she stepped under the warm pulsing stream. Oh, that
felt good!

Moaning, she closed her eyes and allowed
the water to pummel her body. For a few minutes she just stood there, letting
the stream run over her from head to toe. Reaching her hands up to brush back
her wet hair, she then moved to detach the showerhead. Arching her back, she stretched
her tight muscles and with slow anticipation brought the spray down to pulse
over the front of her body.

She picked up the new bar of scented soap
resting in a tray and used one hand to run the fragrant bar over and around her
neck and shoulders, and then moved to her breasts. Her nipples were still taut
with her remembered dream and she hissed in frustration. Propping her foot up
on the low ledge, she moved her hand and the bar of soap between her legs and
then followed with the showerhead. Her body tight with growing need, she
reveled in the sensations of vibrating water as it pulsed against her and
manipulated her clit. Damn! She needed this. Heat and sensation combined with
an active imagination, and Joey reveled in her very private version of paradise.

* * * * *

Focusing first on the porch light, Gray
then shifted the telescope lens to a wider view—a view that had him shifting
immediately to the edge of his seat. Joey wasn’t asleep.

Instead, he found her with the powerful
scope, displayed in spectacular glory within the small circle—naked and taking
a shower on the outside lanai. The master bedroom porch was fully visible from
this floor. Or…at least it was with the telescope.
You really shouldn’t
invade her privacy like this
, he told himself sternly.
Too late now.

He watched with absorbed fascination as
Joey reached up with one hand and removed the shower nozzle. The movement
arched her back and provided a wonderful view of her breasts glistening in the
spray. Spellbound, refusing to blink, he narrowed his eyes intently as she
slowly moved the spray over her chest and followed the movement with one hand
slick with soap. He stared through the eyepiece of the scope while she washed
the back of her neck, her chest and finally her breasts.
Take your time.
His
body protested, every fiber in his being wanted to run down the hill and offer
to replace Joey’s hands with his own. He would give anything to be the one
running his fingers over those plump globes, the one taking his time to tease
her nipples into hard little buds.