Her Perfect Getaway (12 page)

He entered her with a practiced
thrust, his mouth finding hers, filling her with her taste and
arousal so strong. She curled her fingers over his muscular ass and
spread her legs wider, searching for the rhythm to match his. God,
so perfect, the angle, the tempo. He looked down at her as she
found it, as she met him stroke for stroke, so good, so hot, so
deep. The urgency of her orgasm ebbed, but everything about the way
he felt over her, inside her, was perfect, a sensation she didn’t
want to end.

Her fingertips trailed up the small
of his back. He grunted, catching her hand and twining his fingers
through it on the mattress. Sweat sheened their skin, the breeze
through the open door not doing much to cool them as they strained
toward each other, harder, faster, desperate. She wrapped her legs
higher about his waist and the depth of his strokes sent desire
spiraling, her impending orgasm tightening every muscle in her body
before, oh, before…

The climax was a slow, pulsing
release like being under water, pushed along by the waves. Her
pussy squeezed around him rhythmically, pleasure rippling outward
from their joined bodies. Not a screaming orgasm, but one that
prodded a long, low moan from her as he followed her over the
edge.

When he collapsed on the bed beside
her and drew her close, her mind came awake again. What had that
been? Not sex, not like any they’d had this week. That had been
lovemaking, pure and simple, like nothing she’d
experienced.

What did that mean?

***

Max woke to the sound of voices.
Well, a voice, anyway, Elizabeth’s, hushed and distant. He lifted
his head from the pillow to see faint sunlight streaming through
the curtains drawn over the balcony doors. He glanced at the clock
by the bed. Not even seven in the morning, and after making love as
much as they did last night, he’d thought they’d both sleep until
she was supposed to meet her friends at the spa at ten. He’d tried
to convince her that she could ditch that plan and go hiking up on
Diamondhead with him, but she’d said she needed to spend the day
with just her girls. Right. He got that. Except she was leaving
tomorrow. Maybe he could get her to hit the waves with him right
now. He crawled out of bed and pushed open the curtains. On the
other side of the door, she twisted in the chaise, a cellphone held
to her ear.

“No, Dad, I can’t talk louder.
It’s barely seven here. The walls are very thin.”

“Want to catch some waves?” Max
asked, leaning out the door.

“What? Yes, that
was a man. Yes, in my room.” She waved Max away, indicating a need
for privacy.

He didn’t give it, instead leaning
on the rail, arms folded as he watched her blush.

“That is not why I don’t want to
deal with this, Dad. I’ll be home tomorrow night.”

A strident male voice could be
heard through the phone, and Elizabeth’s shoulders
slumped.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she
said, and disconnected, then drew up her knees and rested her head
on them.

“What’s going on?”

“One of my clients, who knew I’d
be gone for the week, needed some changes made to a spot scheduled
to start running Monday. My assistant made the changes and my
client is livid. She hates it all. My dad wants me to come home and
smooth things over.”

“You’re going home
tomorrow.”

“I know, but it’s a big client,
and as long as she’s unhappy, we’re in trouble. Apparently my dad
had been sending me distressed calls and emails all week, but I
hadn’t checked my email until this morning and Joslyn had my phone.
I had to wake her up to get it. I need to give my client a call and
see if I can talk her down.”

Because she was clearly upset, Max
went back inside and dressed, but he couldn’t help himself from
listening to her cajole and soothe, tones he’d never heard
Elizabeth use. Then she ended the call and dialed again. His gut
clenched to hear her ask for a flight home to Texas, leaving
today.

This time he stepped right in front
of her and glowered, but she didn’t acknowledge him as she put the
ticket in her credit card and disconnected.

“You’re leaving today.”

Elizabeth swung her legs over the
edge of the chaise, still not meeting his gaze. “She was only able
to meet with me tomorrow morning, and like I said, the spots are
supposed to air on Monday. I have to go.”

“No one could do it but you. And
she doesn’t give a damn that you’re thousands of miles
away?”

“Why should she care? She could
afford to fly here every day if she wanted.”

Max caught her shoulders when she
lurched to her feet. He could feel the tension running through her.
“Stay.”

“I can’t. It’s done. I’m sorry.”
She twisted away, and he wondered what exactly she meant was
done.

***

Elizabeth shouldn’t be meeting with
a client on no sleep, after fifteen hours in an airplane, not
mentioning the two layovers. Her bed had seemed foreign to her when
she arrived home—and this after spending a night in a hotel, a
hammock and two nights in Max’s bed. Maybe it felt alien because
she was alone. How did she get used to sharing a bed with someone
so fast?

No, she couldn’t let her think
about Max, about how he’d looked when she told him good-bye in the
hotel room after he’d silently watched her pack. She hadn’t
promised to see him at the wedding, hadn’t even let him drive her
to the airport. The look in his eyes—hurt?—haunted her now. How
could she have just walked away after the week they’d
had?

Because she thought that would make
the break easier. What it had given her was a sleepless night and a
foul mood. She needed to get past that now as she pulled into the
parking lot of the production company, empty but for her car. She
hoped to work something up that would please her client, smooth
ruffled feathers, and let her get home to mope in peace.

Of course it wasn’t that easy, and
while Mrs. Villegas left pleased, she made Elizabeth work for every
approval. And when Elizabeth finished the spot and sent it to the
local stations to air, all she wanted was to go home and
collapse.

A shadow outside her apartment had
her pulling out her cellphone and dialing 9-1, her finger hovering
over the other “1” as she climbed out of the car. When the shadow
rose and moved into the light, her heart stopped.

“No.” It couldn’t
be. She must have fallen asleep on the drive and crashed or
something. She placed her hand on her chest and moved forward…into
Max’s arms.

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth dropped onto her back on
the mattress, sweaty, limp, her hair tangled around her shoulders
as Max panted beside her.

“I’d hoped for an enthusiastic
greeting, but that was even better than I expected,” he said with a
laugh, turning his head on the pillow to look at her. “You acted
like you hadn’t seen me in weeks instead of days.”

“I never thought you’d come.” She
shifted onto her side so she could slide her hand over his damp
chest. “I barely had time to fantasize about you in my
bed.”

“Couldn’t let
that plane ticket go to waste, not when we barely got a proper
good-bye.” He pulled her snug against him and lifted his head to
kiss her.

Joslyn had insisted that since
Elizabeth wasn’t using her ticket, that Max should. And he’d
shuffled his tour guide duties, pulling Jace into his place so he
could fly to Texas to surprise her. Joslyn had even dropped him off
at Elizabeth’s apartment, though she’d been disappointed not to see
Elizabeth’s reaction.

Good thing. She’d practically
ripped his clothes off before they got into her apartment, had him
inside her before the sound of the door closing had stopped
vibrating through the apartment. He’d pressed her to the door and
pounded into her until he couldn’t stand up. He’d carried her to
the bedroom, where she took over, riding him until he curled his
body up to embrace her, so that his breath was on her lips when
they reached their climax together.

So yeah, he’d been here about
fifteen minutes.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I
don’t have anything here, but we could order a pizza or
something.”

“Is it too late for Mexican
food?”

“There’s a Tex-Mex down the street
that’s open twenty-four hours. Not the best sampling, but pretty
good.”

***

Elizabeth twined her legs with his
under the wobbly table at the pink restaurant. She bit her lip to
keep from saying, “I can’t believe you’re here” like a lovesick
teenager. They toasted each other with margaritas in plastic cups
under the florescent lights of the all-night restaurant, and she
showed him how best to eat a taco—on a corn tortilla with plenty of
pico de gallo. She liked watching his face as he experienced his
first bite. Only then did she bite into her own, after realizing
she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“So you survived a flight with
three women.” She flinched inwardly to think of what her friends
might have been compelled to share with him on the flight. God,
what must they think, that he came all this way to see her? She’d
bet she’d get a lot of phone calls tomorrow.

“It wasn’t that
terrible.”

That glint in his eyes told her she
was right about her friends oversharing. “What did they tell you
about me?” she asked on a sigh.

“Did you really
date a guy named Walter? For over a year?”

“Walter was…nice. He was just…not
a big fan of my work schedule.” And easily forgettable. She’d go
days without talking to him and not realize it. Poor guy. He’d
finally gotten fed up.

“And a guitar player in
college?”

“My rebellious period. I had my
nose pierced then.” She angled her head to show him the closed
hole.

Something shifted in his eyes as he
tapped the side of her nose. “I bet that was hot.”

“It was as
rebellious as I got. When I went to work with my dad, he thought it
wasn’t professional, so I took it out and let it heal.”

“Did you get everything taken care
of with the picky client?”

She sighed and sat back in her
chair, scraping the frost off the outside of her plastic cup. “She
made me work for it, so she’s happy, and my father’s
happy.”

“And you?”

She met his gaze and felt a jolt
from her heart to her toes. Max Sullivan, in her town, in her bed.
In her heart. “I’m just fine.”

***

A loud knocking at the front door
woke Max. He lifted his head from the pillow to see Elizabeth had
left the bed. Had she gone to answer the door? No, he heard water
running in the shower, and the pounding continued. He glanced at
the clock by the bed—seven thirty on a Sunday. The neighbors would
be pissed. So he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, dragged
on his shorts and padded into the living room. He opened the front
door a crack and leaned on it, squinting at the older man who stood
in the breezeway.

“Can I help you?”

The man glared for a moment, then
rose on his toes to look past Max into the apartment. “I’m looking
for my daughter.”

Elizabeth’s dad? Not exactly the
way Max would have preferred meeting him. “She’s in the shower.
What exactly has you courting a death wish with her
neighbors?”

“We have breakfast every Sunday.
She was expecting me.”

“Clearly she
wasn’t.” Max stepped back, allowing the older man inside.

“Who are you? Her Hawaiian beach
bum?”

Max hid his flinch. Was that what
she told her father he was? He thought maybe she understood him a
little better than that. “I’m the guy she met in Hawaii, yes. Max
Sullivan.” He held out a hand.

The older man considered for a
minute before taking it in a brief shake. “David Black. She didn’t
mention she was bringing you home.”

“She didn’t. I followed
her.”

Elizabeth’s father narrowed his
eyes. “A stalker. Charming.”

“Elizabeth was charmed.” Max
turned into the kitchen. Making coffee would give him something to
do, anyway. On his way, he saw the discarded condom wrapper from
their frantic greeting. He swooped down to scoop it off the floor,
but was pretty sure the old man hadn’t missed it.

“Max, I thought
we were going to—” Elizabeth stepped out of the bedroom then,
kimono clinging to her damp body, gaping as she twisted her hair
behind her.

She saw her father and stopped
cold, belting the kimono and wrapping her arms around herself. Max
could have sworn she actually shrank in front of his
eyes.

“Dad. I didn’t expect to see
you.”

“Clearly.” Her father indicated
Max. “It’s Sunday.”

She paled. “So it is. I’m sorry. I
lost track of time. And Max showed up last night, so…”

“You overslept.”

“Yes,” she said weakly.

Max couldn’t stop staring at the
woman she turned into. Not the woman he knew at all, the tough,
try-anything woman.