Flirting With Fate (15 page)

She gaped. “
You
kissed
me
.”

Tanner chuckled. “Whatever you need to tell
yourself.”

Exhaling heavily, she stood to put some distance
between them. Hadn’t she just resolved to not start anything with him? Yet
minutes later she was sticking her tongue down his throat.

Way to go, Josie!

But he was right. He hadn’t asked anything of her.
And he was a guy. Weren’t guys better than anyone at keeping their emotions out
of purely physical relationships?

She let her eyes drift to his body again and bit
back a groan.

Hella tempting.

“I’m going to the beach,” she said without
transition. She’d come here to rejuvenate and catch some rays and hell if she
was going to leave without doing it.

She snatched her two-piece out of her suitcase and
took it to the bathroom to change. She jumped in the shower to rinse the
evidence of her run off her skin, slapped on some sun block, and slid into the
skimpy number that called itself a swimsuit.

In the States, Josie would never wear something so
revealing to the beach. This particular set featured a red string thong bottom
and a top nearly as revealing. However, Eden wasn’t like the States. On the
beaches of Eden, wearing even the skimpiest bikini was abnormal. More commonly,
women went topless or even sunbathed completely nude.

She reached for the bathroom door and hesitated.
She looked down at herself and stuck her lip out as she threw on her wrap. She
looked hot in this suit. What a waste.

He was still lounging on her bed when she emerged
from the bathroom.

“You’re not gone yet?”

“I know. You’re a badass who can take care of
herself. But I’m not leaving here without you.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her towel and a
book. Sliding on her sunglasses, she warned, “I’m not leaving until I’ve soaked
in so much sun and beach, I’m damn near orgasmic with it.”

Josie lingered in that delicious zone between
consciousness and sleep when she felt someone brush her hair from her face.

A soft moan escaped her lips, but she didn’t open
her eyes. She felt too perfect to move. The sun beat down on her warm,
sweat-slicked skin, and the waves crashed against the sand just yards from her
feet.

She shifted slightly in her Adirondack chair and
the hands slipped from her hair to her neck, massaging it lightly.

“Tanner?” she whispered, more reluctant to open
her eyes now that these hands were working such delicious magic on the tension
in her neck.

A soft
shh
in her ear was the only reply.
But she knew these hands, knew this touch.

Maybe it was because she was nearly asleep and so
relaxed her muscles had turned to goo. Maybe it was because she’d resisted him
for six months and had used up all her willpower. Or maybe it was because
tasting her own mortality had left her with a deep, unsettling loneliness.

For whatever reason, she didn’t stop his hands.

They slipped into her hair and worked out the
tension at the base of her scalp, then kneaded their way down to her shoulders.
When his hands slid over her arms, she realized they were oiled.

The feel of his hot, slick skin sliding against
hers brought every vision and sensation from their night together back to her
mind. Her heart beat a little faster, and his hands slipped over her collarbone
and down the front of her. When his big hands cupped her breasts and his thumbs
teased her nipples through the thin fabric of the bikini top, she opened her
eyes—to stop him? To encourage him? She wasn’t sure.

She couldn’t see him.

But she could feel him—
God,
could she feel
him—putting gentle pressure against her breasts, abrading her nipples with his
thumbs. But he wasn’t visible.

“Tanner?”

“
Shh
.” His mouth was against her ear. He
flicked his tongue over her lobe, then his mouth traveled down the length of
her neck.

The pleasure of his invisible tongue sent sparks
of power through her.

She reached behind her chair, wanting to slide her
hand into his hair or touch his face. He pressed her hand back to her side. His
message was clear: if she wanted to play, it would be his way, with his rules.

She leaned back and his hands circled each of her
wrists, holding them at her sides while he returned to his sweet torture of her
neck.

Then, for a moment, he was gone. Her wrists were
free and his mouth was gone.

She let her eyes flutter shut—wet and needy for
him but thinking it was better to end this now. Really, how far could he take
that on this busy beach?

When she felt his invisible leg nudge hers apart,
she knew she had underestimated him. She slid lower in the chair, spreading her
legs for him. He tugged at her hips, pulling her further down, forcing her legs
further apart.

His hot breath hit her breasts, the damp heat
breaking through the thin cotton of her T-shirt and teasing her erect nipples.
A whimper slipped from her lips.

Her breath came faster and she arched slightly,
willing his mouth to replace his breath.

When she thought she might die from anticipation,
his mouth latched on her breast through her top, and somehow the thin barrier
between his tongue and her nipple was more erotic than tongue on flesh.

Her hips bucked instinctively and she bit her lip
to keep a moan trapped in her throat. He increased the suction at her breast,
pulling her nipple firmly between his lips as his hand released one of hers
slipped between her legs.

She’d kept her bikini on to sunbathe, but as his
hand rubbed against the saturated cotton between her legs, she wished she’d
considered going nude.

He toyed with her clit through the spandex of the
suit and laved her breasts with his mouth. She struggled to keep still and
quiet, struggled to hide her pleasure from those crowding the sunny beach.

It cost her. She needed to touch him, taste him,
dig her fingers into the muscles of his back as she guided him inside her.

Her sex quivered, and her breathing grew ragged as
she exerted all her will to still the instinctive movements of her hips. His
mouth left her breast and the breeze off the ocean turned the damp material
cool against her flushed skin.

“Need you,” she murmured, but he covered the
barely audible plea with his mouth, pressing a kiss against her lips that she
couldn’t return. His fingers slipped under the thin, damp strip of material
between her legs, moving it aside and exposing her sex to anyone who knew to
look. And because she could do nothing else, she adjusted her legs, spreading
them wider so he could explore her, pleasure her with his hands.

He slid a finger inside her and she squeezed her
eyes shut. Air rushed out of her lungs as pleasure whipped through her.

“
Shh
,” he whispered, then his mouth joined
his hand. His finger worked inside her, fucking her, moving in and out of her
while his mouth sucked at her clit.

Dear God, was there anything more exquisite than
the feel of a man’s tongue on her clit while his fingers her?

The trembling radiated through her now, and she
struggled to maintain the façade of a sunbather. She gave up on keeping her
ragged breathing controlled.

He drove her harder and harder toward release.
Pumping his fingers inside her, toying with her clit.

She thought about his dick—the way it would feel
in her hand. She wanted to taste him, wanted him to fill her mouth as she
sucked him deep into her throat. She wanted him to slide into her, to fill her.

That was all she wanted now. Desperately she
wanted it.

He withdrew his mouth, then his fingers. At that
moment, she almost did cry out. Before she could, his mouth was at her ear
again.

“Lie on the towel,” he whispered so she could
barely hear. “On your stomach.”

She blinked, taking in her surroundings since the
first moment she’d felt his hands on her neck.

Eden was an adult-only resort for Specials, and
ten yards to their right, a couple sat in each other’s arms, watching the
waves. Behind them, a man flirted with a topless sunbather, and all around them
Specials enjoyed the sun, the sand, and the freedom to be who they were without
restrictions.

People participated in wild acts on this island
all the time. But Josie usually wasn’t among them.

Yet she found herself moving to her towel, lying
on her stomach, and the feel of Tanner’s body lowering on hers was nearly as
delicious as his mouth on her neck.

Several people strolled by, and Josie lifted her
face to watch them. A middle-aged man among them cast a long glance her way and
smiled. Could he tell she was aroused?

Tanner slid his hand between her legs and under
her, seeking and finding her clit, and she realized she didn’t mind if the man
knew. In fact, politically incorrect or not, she was a little turned on by the
idea.

Tanner lifted her hips and she closed her eyes as
her invisible lover slid into her from behind.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered in her ear. “Open
your eyes and watch them mill around you, watch them watch you and ignore you
as I fuck you.”

She did, and lost her breath. She couldn’t imagine
what she looked like to them—face flushed, eyes hot, hips angled up just so.

Tanner wrapped his hand under her body and
fingered her clit. His cock drove in and out of her at a speed that was at once
deliciously languorous and aggravatingly slow.

She wanted to move with him, against him. But part
of the fantasy—however forbidden—of being fucked in the middle of this crowd
was that these strangers didn’t know what was happening. Part of the fantasy
was that it remained her secret. So she resisted the instinct to rock her hips
and bit her lip instead.

A man strolling along the water’s edge spotted her
and smiled flirtatiously. Young, blond, blue eyes, he was handsome, but lacked
that Tanner’s earthy ruggedness.

Tanner made his movements a little faster, the
pressure against her clit a little more insistent.

His cock swelled inside her and pressed against
her cervix. He wasn’t holding back anymore. He pressed deeper and hit that
sweet spot with every stroke.

Josie cried out because Tanner filled her so
completely and fucked her so right and she couldn’t stop anymore. Higher and
higher, she clung to the pleasure until it threatened to throw her off.

Tanner pressed deep inside her and she buried her
face in her towel. They came together, and Josie let the orgasm tear her into
pieces. As the pieces settled back down to Earth, she closed her eyes and fell
asleep to the sounds of the beach.

The dream that greeted her was anything but
restful.

Josie was strapped to a table—arms and legs
both restrained. A big metal machine stood next to the head of her table. She
didn’t know what it was but she knew she wanted as far away from it as
possible.

She yanked at the restraints, her heart
pounding. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t let this happen. She
wouldn’t be the reason the Ascendants succeeded in their twisted plan.

“Let me go!”

“Shh, just relax.” A woman stood next to her,
examining the veins on the exposed inside of her arm. Josie couldn’t see her
face.

As he slid a needle into a vein in her arm, she
cried out—not in pain but in fear of what would come.

“You’re dying for a beautiful cause,” she said,
her face still hidden from view. “I wish you could see that. Specials
everywhere will finally get the life and strength they deserve.”

“How? By drinking human blood?”

She didn’t answer her question, but lifted her
head and smiled sweetly at Josie.

“Alyson?” Josie closed her eyes. Was this
really her beloved yoga instructor and friend or someone posing as her?

Alyson squeezed Josie’s hand. “I had to protect
you,” she whispered. Then she turned her attention to the door where someone
else was being wheeled in, also strapped to a table.

Blond hair, familiar body. Josie knew that
body. “Mallory?”

They positioned Mallory’s table next to
Josie’s.

“What’s going on?” Mallory asked. “What’s
happening? I don’t understand.”

“It’s time for the Ascendants to rule,” the man
explained. “Your blood is perfect. This is your destiny. The Keys will give us
the power to reshape the world.”

Quinton paced across his living room again, phone
in hand. Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn. Repeat.

Oh, hell.

He was being a pussy shit. He punched in the
number he’d looked up yesterday and waited for his international call to
connect.

“
Bonjour
,” said a male voice on the other
end.

“
Bonjour
,” Quinton said, “
Je
m’appelle Quinton Greyly
—”

“Quinton!” the man said, cutting him off before he
could go further. “Is Mallory there?”

That’s a good question, Quinton thought. “I don’t
know where she is.”

“If you see her, you must have her call me
immédiatement.
”

“Is she okay?”
Quinton didn’t understand what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

“She will be
if she comes home.”

Quinton shook
his head. This man had been ridiculously protective of Mallory and a large part
of the reason Quinton had chosen to leave.

“Please tell
me you’re not involved with her again,” the man said.

Quinton set
his jaw. “No, sir.”

“She is
innocent,” he said. “She must stay that way.”