Deep Focus (11 page)

“I don’t know. Just curious.” Then, because it seemed like he should share, he added, “I’m thirty.”

“And you don’t look a day over twenty-nine and a half.”

She really had found her inner smart-ass. He chuckled. “Thanks. You look ageless, timeless, priceless.”

“Oh, God.” Melanie burst out laughing. “That debonair act does not work for you. Just...no.”

“What? You don’t think I’m suave?” Hell, he knew he wasn’t. But it was funny that she already had him pegged. He was honest, sometimes too honest, and didn’t know how to give seductive and charming speeches. But he could promise to give her lots of pleasure.

“You look great in a suit, but you are no James Bond. For which I’m grateful. Because then I would most likely die at the hands of a villain after sleeping with you. That seems to be the fate of all his beautiful ladies.”

“Half of them are spies and he knows it, but he nails them anyway. I couldn’t do that.” He pulled Melanie’s chair out for her and when she sat down, he bent and kissed the back of her neck, shifting her hair for access. “Darling.”

She shivered then giggled. “Okay, maybe you’ve got a little James Bond in you.”

He sat down across from her, pleased with her reaction. “Thanks.”

“So you wouldn’t sleep with me if you knew I was sending secrets to the enemy?”

“Nope. I’m a patriot. I wasn’t on active duty for the paycheck.” He set his sunglasses down on the table. “Can I go get my eggs now?” Not to fixate on his breakfast, but damn, he was hungry.

“Yes, please. Feed yourself before you expire from malnourishment.”

The words were teasing. Her smile was sweet, tender. As if she liked him. Cared about him. Warning bells clanged in Hunter’s head, but he chose to ignore them. They were both very clear on this being just a fun few days together. He didn’t need to worry that Melanie was getting attached to him, who didn’t deserve her attachment. There was no reason he couldn’t enjoy her company and her casual affection, right?

“Thank you.” He stood up and proceeded to the around-the-world-themed buffet to make himself the biggest plate of food he could manage. It looked like a landfill heap by the time he was finished loading up: crepes, a breakfast burrito, kippers and potato pancakes. It was like a victory for his stomach right there on a porcelain plate.

Melanie drank a cup of coffee and nibbled on some melon chunks, and he shook his head in disbelief as he watched her. Life would be a hell of a lot easier if he could sustain himself on melon chunks, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

When he was finished he felt a thousand times better, and guilty for being such a crabass that morning. As they left the restaurant he suggested they poke their heads into some of the gift shops along the way. One had cigars, another jewelry and a third offered bottles of wine. “Let’s get some champagne,” he said. “To celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” she asked, even though she looked pleased at the idea.

“Freedom from snow and icy wind that freezes your extremities in thirty seconds.” He picked out a bottle. “This good?”

“Sure.”

She stood very close to him while he paid, the kind of close that bespoke intimacy. He liked it, he had to admit. This was what he had been missing when he was deployed. Companionship. The right to touch someone easily, familiarly. Catching her off guard, he kissed the side of her head.

This was dicey territory. Here they had just agreed there was nothing more to it than sex, and yet they both seemed intent on meandering into intimacy.

“Is it your anniversary?” the perky young clerk asked.

“Yes,” he lied, for no particular reason whatsoever. He just kind of wanted it to be a special day. Not just another day to trudge through, but a “carpe diem, he was on vacation with a hot woman” kind of day. That wasn’t breaking their bargain; it was just enjoying the time together while he could. She wanted to talk. He wanted to cuddle. No harm in that.

Being single was not what he had expected for this phase of his life. He’d accidentally done things in reverse. He’d been with Danielle while he was halfway around the world, and now that he was back and really wanted the companionship, he was alone. Not what he’d had in mind. But he knew he was right in his conviction to fly solo for a while. There was a reason his relationships kept going south, and as far as he could tell, the common denominator was him. He had to figure out what that was about before he attempted anything lasting again.

Melanie made a sound in the back of her throat at his outright lie, but she didn’t protest.

“That’s great,” the clerk enthused, bagging their purchase and handing it back. “Congratulations. How many years?”

“Five,” Hunter said, echoing Melanie’s earlier claim as he accepted the bottle. “Thanks. We’re heading back to the room.”

She winked at Melanie. “Lucky girl.”

Melanie laughed.

When they left, she said, “You’re very bad, Hunter.”

“You started the whole anniversary thing.” He eyed the cigar shop. “Can I get one? Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. I’m going to get myself a dolphin necklace to remind me of this trip.”

He swatted her butt as she went into the jewelry shop. “I’ll give you something to remember, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she also smiled, which made him smile in return. They were just a couple of grinning fools. Feeling like an idiot, Hunter went into the cigar shop and tried to focus on making a selection. He could kick himself for suggesting shopping when they could already be back at the room, but he knew it was important to get a grip on his libido and let Melanie set the pace.

After five minutes of chatting with the store clerk and going into the humidor, Hunter felt more confident that he could maintain his emotional distance from Melanie for five more days and just enjoy himself. No confusing the damn issue. They weren’t celebrating an anniversary. They weren’t a couple. Playing house with each other revealed a little too much about what they both wanted, but—for both of their sakes—he was determined to avoid.

After purchasing a cigar, he wandered over to the jewelry shop to see how Melanie was faring with her souvenir. She had approximately seventeen necklaces laid out on the counter in front of her.

“Which one?” she asked him, waving her hand over the whole lot.

There was a lot of dolphin action happening on that countertop. “Uh...I don’t know.” They all looked the same. A leaping dolphin on a chain. But he also knew Melanie was the kind of woman who liked to be methodical and ask a lot of questions, so he feared they could be there for another hour if he didn’t give an opinion. “This one?” He pointed to one that looked more playful than the others.

She frowned. “You don’t think this one is too big?”

“Yes, it is, actually.” He was already learning—Melanie’s pointless question meant that that option was not going to make her happy. “I like this one.” He chose one at random and gave it to the clerk. “Can you box this up for us?”

Melanie stiffened and made a squawk of protest. “But I’m not sure if that’s the one I want.”

“She who hesitates ends up with no dolphin necklace. Or one she will never really be sure about. Just pick one and embrace it. You’re not buying a house, babe.”

He was probably being a little heavy-handed, but it was something he’d noticed about her: she pondered and pondered and then was never really satisfied with the result.

“But...”

Hunter pulled out his wallet and gave his credit card to the clerk. He hoped like hell that necklace wasn’t two thousand dollars or something insane.

“You don’t have to pay for it,” she protested.

“I want to.” He saw with relief as the total came up on the register that it was only twenty-five bucks. He could swing that, though he would have been willing to go into debt if it made Melanie relax and let loose.

He leaned over and kissed her on the head in a move that contradicted everything he had just told himself. Wow. He was not keeping it in the casual-sex zone. He absently thanked the shopkeeper as she handed him the purchase. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

But Melanie smiled up at him, making his gesture feel worth the risk. “Well, if you insist.” Then she stunned him by leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips in full view of the clerk. “You ready?”

Ready to hunker down and keep his head out of his ass. Ready to make sure his emotional walls were firmly in place. Ready to focus solely on making Melanie scream in bed. “Hell, yeah.”

10

M
ELANIE
WAS
GLAD
the day had turned around after starting out so badly. She didn’t know how to conduct herself after sleeping with a man she’d known only sixteen hours. She had been uncertain of what Hunter was thinking, afraid that being impulsive—as great as it had been—was a poor choice.

It had felt fantastic to end the day from hell on such a high note, and she didn’t want it to be messy or complicated. They had pinky sworn it was nothing but sex, and that was liberating.

Hunter was right—she did need to stop thinking so much. It stole a lot of the enjoyment from making a final choice. Whether it was a dolphin necklace, a risotto or a man, she invariably wound up questioning whether she had made the right pick, since she had debated it so endlessly. This really could be the most freeing vacation she’d ever had. She had intended it to be a sex fest with Ian, but it was turning out to be about more than that. It was about learning to embrace life and not worry so much. Along with being a sex fest.

Which was why she was going to go back to the room with Hunter and enjoy him without thinking it meant a single thing. On the path back to their part of the hotel, Hunter paused, setting the bottle of champagne down on the ground. “What are you doing?” she asked.

He fished her necklace out of the bag and pulled off the tag. “I thought you might want to wear this.” Undoing the clasp, he came around behind her and dropped it down over her face onto her chest.

“Oh, thanks.” She shivered a little at the feel of his warm fingers on her neck as he hooked the clasp.

He lifted her hair up and over it, pausing to kiss the tender spot below her ear. “You’re welcome.”

Her hair dropped back down, and he moved away. Melanie had never stopped to think that maybe what she had been craving from Ian wasn’t a sex fest—it was this. Touch. It was a natural craving to feel someone’s fingers brush your skin, slide through your hair. As a little girl, she had loved to have her hair braided, to roll herself in a blanket with her cousins, to climb on her mother’s lap. It wasn’t as easy to achieve that type of physical closeness as an adult, and she had been searching for it. Ironically, taking her clothes off for Ian had not fulfilled that need.

Yet a simple gesture from Hunter had.

Oh, yeah. She had a lot to learn about herself and what she wanted. But right now all she knew was that she wanted Hunter. For the next four days he was hers. This was uncharted territory for her—being with someone without expectation—but she liked the freedom.

“How long did you and Danielle date?” she asked. Because that was a smart topic to bring up en route to a nooner.

He glanced over at her. His expression was inscrutable. “Eighteen months. Why?”

“Just curious.” She was so bad at this casual sex thing. Then again, she wasn’t that great at relationships, either. The whole male-female thing seemed to befuddle her.

She fingered the necklace dangling down almost to her breasts and reminded herself it was about learning not to control the situation. To just enjoy it.

When they reached their room, Hunter suggested they sit on the veranda and watch the dolphins. He pulled out two glasses from the bar area, popped the cork on the champagne and poured. She went out onto the patio and sank down into a chair with a relaxed sigh, accepting the glass of bubbly he handed her.

“A toast,” he said, raising his glass in the direction of hers.

She thought he was going to say something about sun, surf, champagne.

Nope. Not even close.

“To Ian, for being the dumbest piece of shit I’ve ever met. I owe him big-time.”

Really? What happened to channeling James Bond? That had been sexier. Yet she had to laugh. Hunter always managed to amuse her. “I’m not drinking to Ian.”

“Why not? If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I don’t think him dumping me merits raising a glass in his honor.” She clinked her glass against his. “To fun. How’s that?”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. He tapped her glass back and lifted his own to his lips. Melanie took a sip, watching the dolphins. They looked as if they were perpetually smiling, but she wondered whether the animals enjoyed each other’s company or if it was more like how she felt about her fellow humans on the L. Irritated at the constant sharing of space.

But then one dolphin got on the other’s back. “Oh!” she said, a little startled. She felt more than a little awkward watching the situation playing out mere feet from her.

Hunter laughed. “I guess we can’t suggest they get a room.”

“Should we go back inside? They might want to be alone.” Despite her words she found herself unable to glance away, which made it even more embarrassing.

“I’m not sure they particularly care about privacy, but I would definitely like some with you.” Hunter stood up and reached his hand out to help her up.

Melanie took his hand, and wondered if she was blushing. She certainly felt overheated. It felt so different to be anticipating going to bed with him than with any of the boyfriends she’d had. The comfort level was missing, yet the sheer depth of the attraction she felt for him made her skin tingle, her heart race, her chest heave with quick, anxious breaths. It felt as if the night before had been a quick and unexpected preview. She had a feeling this would be more exploratory, and that made her both excited and nervous.

Part of her wanted to jump on Hunter, take him straight to the bed and get it going on, but at the same time she wanted to push herself, and see if she could allow him to lead her through a truly sensual experience. This wasn’t about a to-do list, efficiency. It was about sensuality.

She was still holding her glass in her hand, and as they went back inside she drained the last bit of her champagne. Hunter took the flute from her and set it along with his on the TV stand. There was a pause while he looked at her with a mischievous and sexy smile. Then he reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said. “Like I said, I’m a lucky man.”

As if. She was feeling like the one who had scored here. This could have been the most miserable week of her life and yet here she was. Enjoying herself, and then some. “Thank you for saving my vacation,” she murmured.

“My pleasure.” Hunter closed the gap between them and kissed her.

It was more tender than she was expecting, and it caught her off guard. Her shoulders relaxed, her lips parted on a sigh and she felt a flutter deep inside her core. It felt natural to reach up, snake her arms around him and caress the back of his neck. The kiss turned into many, their mouths meeting and parting only to be drawn together again by a mutual desire. It went on and on, and Hunter made no move to take her to the bed. His hand had dropped to her arm, and he stroked her with a soft, feathery touch.

She felt as if she already knew his mouth, his scent, his height. When he shifted her closer to him, it felt easy, her anxiety gone. There was no hurry, and with each simple kiss, her arousal smoldered like forgotten embers. It had been forever since she’d experienced such a fully clothed make-out session. Eventually, his hand slid all the way down her arm, and he laced his fingers with hers, lifting her arm up and out. He kissed a path from her wrist to her elbow and on up past her shoulder, burying his mouth into her neck. Shivering, she tipped her head back to give him greater access.

And he claimed he wasn’t charming. This was pretty damn charming in her book.

If there had been music they would have been dancing. As if it were a tango, Melanie lifted her leg, wanting to wrap herself into him and have her body touching his everywhere possible. He gave a low murmur of approval in the back of his throat, then startled her by scooping her up in his arms and walking her to the bed.

Oh, wow. She had never experienced that before. He lifted her as if she was nothing, and while her first instinct was to protest and mention his injury, she clamped her lips shut and vowed not to destroy the moment. Just feel it. He deposited her down on the mattress and smoothed her hair off her face. Then he kissed her again and guided her leg back up to where it had been when they were standing. Only now he was wedged between her legs, and she could revel in being surrounded by his arms, and feel his erection press against her hip.

He pulled back and teased his fingers down over her chest, not lingering on her breasts, just brushing them, before doing the same to her midsection and her inner thighs. It was light and worshipful and driving her completely and utterly insane. If he wanted her to squirm, this was a surefire way to achieve it. Slowly, carefully, he undid the buttons on her shirt one at a time, taking long seconds to kiss each new expanse of skin that was exposed by his efforts. His tongue slipped over the swell of first one breast, then the other, but didn’t shift her bra out of the way.

Hunter continued on down until her entire shirt was open and his tongue was teasing into her belly button. She squirmed, especially when he made a slick trail down to the waistband of her shorts and popped the snap with his teeth. “Oh, Hunter,” she moaned, for no particular reason other than wanting him to understand exactly what he was doing to her.

But he paused, lifting his head from her navel. “Yes?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding lazy and relaxed.

With devastating casualness, he took her zipper down so slowly she wanted to shove his hand out of the way and do it herself. It was sweet torture. When her shorts fell open, he nuzzled down into the revealed space, rubbing his lips over her sex. With only her panties between the heat of his touch and her clitoris, she hissed, the ache deep inside her damn near painful.

“You’re enjoying teasing me, aren’t you?” she asked him.

“Yep. But I’m teasing myself, too, you know.”

“You can be masochistic on your own time.” She wiggled her hips to encourage greater interaction.

“We have five days. I’m not looking to rush anything.” But he took hold of her waistband and eased her shorts down with a slow pace that had her closing her eyes, her nipples peaking.

Then he kissed her mound, her panties dampening through from both his tongue and from her own desire. She felt hot, moist, aroused everywhere, and when he peeled her panties down slowly, she grabbed his head, needing something to hold on to. He left them barely past her hips, which didn’t allow her the freedom she wanted, the ability to spread her legs and have him move his hands or mouth over her. She was about to complain, vigorously, but then he lightly scratched over the front of her with his fingers, while his mouth sucked on her hip bone. It was an unfamiliar sensation, giving the impression that he was drawing her out of herself, and she raised her hips instinctively.

“I love the way you taste,” he murmured against her skin. “The way you feel, the way you smell. Like sun and sex.”

Oh, my. She was pretty sure no one had ever said anything like that to her. It was the strangest and sexiest compliment she’d ever received.

Hunter shifted farther upward, giving her a brief but deep kiss before undoing her bra under her back and dragging the straps down her arms with his teeth. He made a sensual project out of the process, lingering at points along the way to lick and kiss her in places she wouldn’t have thought would be pleasing, like the inside of her elbows and the soft translucent skin on the back of her wrist. Even her palm felt erogenous when his tongue flickered over it. By the time he returned to her now-bare breasts to take a nipple into his mouth, she was shifting her head left and right and digging her heels into the mattress.

But still he didn’t hurry. He cupped the fullness of her breasts, teased and laved at her nipples with his tongue, sucked the swell of her breasts, his finger slipping inside her panties to stroke her moist heat. It was a rhythmic touch, but not a deep one, and it only added to her pleasure and frustration. He raised his slumberous eyes to stare at her intently, his nostrils flaring. He sat back on his haunches and yanked his shirt off over his head. She would never get tired of ogling his chest, and she reached out and fanned her hand over his warm skin. With the pad of her thumb, she teased his nipple.

Then she had an idea. A way to return the torture.

Melanie sat up and reached for the button on his shorts.

“Hey,” he said, when she popped them open. “Who said you could do that?”

“I don’t need to ask permission,” she replied, giving him a saucy smile. She nudged her shorts down farther and got up on her knees. “Now it’s my turn to taste.”

She pulled his zipper down and had the satisfaction of hearing him suck in a breath when she lifted his cock out of his boxers and into her hand. His palms landed on her shoulders.

“What are you doing, Melly?”

The nickname really was growing on her. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” Or more accurately, what did it feel like?

She closed her mouth over him.

He groaned. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “You don’t have to do this.”

There was no point in wasting her breath telling him she wanted to. She would just show him. Using her hand to lead the way for her mouth, she went up and down on his shaft, pausing to twirl her tongue over the tip. When her rhythm was steady and sure, based on indicators from him as to what pace he liked the best, she reached out and held on to his hip, releasing his erection and using only her mouth.

Then she did her banana trick.

“Holy shit,” Hunter said, jerking back.

But whereas he would have pulled out of her mouth entirely, she held on to him, taking him deep a second time. The ultimate moment of triumph came when he started to piston his hips, taking over with a rough groan. He thrust in and out for a minute before yanking himself completely out of her mouth. This time she let him. When she looked up at him, wiping her damp and swollen lips, he was shaking his head.

“You’re dangerous,” he told her.

She thought it was the best compliment she’d ever gotten. She smiled up at him. “I’m not sorry.”