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Authors: Jaci Burton

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BOOK: No Strings Attached
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While he was in the shower, Ella slipped on a soft sundress. She pulled the room service
menu out, scanning the dinner items, her stomach rumbling as she did. It had been
a while since they’d had lunch. She hadn’t realized how long they’d spent on the boat
and then at the beach and pool today. The sun had already set and she was starving.

By the time Clay came out from the bathroom, she was ready to eat the sheets.

“I hope room service doesn’t take long,” she said, pacing the length of the room.
“I’m already past hungry.”

He pulled on a pair of shorts and dragged her onto the balcony. “You sure get cranky
when you aren’t fed regularly.”

“We should have crackers in the room or something.”

“There’s food in the mini bar.”

She cast a disgusted gaze into the room. “Please. Five bucks for a candy bar? I’ll
wait.”

He dragged her onto his lap. “Quit bitching. Am I going to have to spank you?”

She laughed, then heated at the thought. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He cocked a brow. “There isn’t a lot I wouldn’t dare to do, Ella.” He pulled her against
him and rubbed her back, his fingers making a slow trek down to her rear end. “Besides,
you have a great ass.”

Her dress bunched up in the back and his fingers teased the globes of her buttocks.
She shuddered against him. “If I wasn’t starving…”

“Food can wait.”

He bent to kiss her, her hunger taking a completely different turn.

But a knock came at the door.

“Shit,” Clay said, smoothing her dress over her butt.

She giggled, her gaze traveling down over the obvious tent in his shorts. “Maybe I
should get the door.”

“Yeah.” He went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Ella felt tons better after she’d eaten. They ate out on the balcony, because Ella
couldn’t seem to get enough of watching the ocean, listening to the sound of it and
smelling the fresh, salty air. She was going to miss all this when she got back home
to landlocked Oklahoma tomorrow, back to dirt and her crew and steel, where the only
things she’d be inhaling were construction dust and the smell of the guys she worked
with.

She inhaled and let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

She grabbed her glass of wine and leaned back in the chair. “I was just thinking how
different this is from our world. Such a fantasy being here this past week.”

Clay smiled, laid his napkin on the table and took a drink of wine. “So you had fun
here.”

“Definitely. I’m going to miss this. The blue of the ocean, the
utter—forever of it. The smell of the flowers that seem to permeate the air wherever
I go. The total relaxation. Yeah, I’m going to miss all of this.”

And Clay. She was going to miss making love to him, feeling his body move against
hers, inside her. She was going to miss the way he touched her, the way his lips slid
over hers, the way her stomach tumbled whenever he looked at her.

“You can always come back. You’re welcome to use my condo anytime you’d like.”

But he wouldn’t be in it. There was a difference. It wouldn’t be the same. “Thanks.
I really appreciate that.”

“But you can’t bring a guy.”

She arched a brow. “I can’t?”

“No. The thought of you fucking some random guy in my bed here just doesn’t sit well
with me.”

She tried not to grin. “So there are conditions to me using your condo.”

“Sorry. Yeah.”

“I could lie.”

“You could. But you won’t. You don’t know how to lie.”

She finished her glass of wine and set it on the table. “Damn. I’m going to have to
learn to be unscrupulous. Then I can have hot monkey sex in this fabulous condo anytime
I can get away.”

He stood and came over to her, pulled her out of the chair and dragged her against
him. “Anytime you want hot monkey sex in this condo, just give me a call. I’ll meet
you.”

Her skin prickled with chills at the same time her insides melted with heat. “Is that
a firm offer? Can I get it in writing?”

“Firm offer, yes. In writing, no. But my word’s good.”

Okay, so he hadn’t actually offered his undying love, but what had she expected? They
were friends. They worked together. Not even together, really. They were competitors
in business. And they’d just spent a week fucking each other like crazy. That he might
want to do it again sometime was…nice.

Nice? Hell, it was more than nice. It was more than she expected. She knew Clay’s
lifestyle. He was a compulsive serial dater, and he never did repeats.

She laid her palm against his chest, somehow comforted by the steady beat of his heart.
“Wow. You want to see me again. This is…unexpected. So rare for you.”

He narrowed his gaze at her. “Are you insulting me?”

“Not intentionally. You just never see women…repeatedly.”

“True enough. You aren’t most women I know. We see each other a lot. You’re an exception.”

He revealed nothing in that statement. How typical for Clay. She patted his chest,
trying to keep things light. “I’ll keep you in mind whenever I need to scratch the
itch again.”

His hands slid down her back, his fingertips tantalizing her but rubbing ever so seductively
above her butt. “We don’t have to come back to Hawaii to have sex with each other,
Ella.”

She stilled. “You mean…back in Tulsa? You and me…together?”

He laughed. “You should see the look of horror on your face. It’s like I just suggested
we go on a murder rampage together.”

She pushed away from him. “That’s not what I meant.” She moved to the railing, looked
to the sea for its calming influence. She wished she could tell him how she felt.
The problem was, she didn’t know how she felt. Her feelings were mixed up inside.
She needed time to sort them through before she blurted out something she might regret
later.

He joined her. “I know what you meant. Sorry. I know you wanted this week to have
no strings, and here I am trying to tie you up by suggesting we continue to meet once
we get home. When we get back we’ll pretend nothing happened between us. It’ll be
business as usual, just the way you wanted it.”

Right. Just the way she wanted it.

Only now she wasn’t sure it was what she really wanted. And the last person she could
say that to was Clay.

She turned to him. “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

His lips lifted and he smoothed his hand over her cheek. “So let’s make tonight good.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers with a kiss so achingly tender she had
to squeeze her eyes tight to push back the sting of tears. She shuddered as he pulled
her close, wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

She would miss him. There was more to what she felt than just sex. She was afraid
she was falling in love with Clay.

And she couldn’t…wouldn’t tell him that.

He’d trusted her to keep things physical between them. She wouldn’t ruin this last
night together by spilling out emotions when she knew damn well he wasn’t interested
in any of that. He was a man who enjoyed women, but didn’t want any strings tying
them together.

She let it all go, losing herself in his kiss, in the way he moved his hands over
her body. He’d learned her body so well in the past week—where to touch her to elicit
the moans she couldn’t contain. He knew exactly what buttons to push and he was a
damn expert at making her weak-kneed in mere minutes. The slow torture of his mouth
doing sinful things to hers, his tongue sliding its velvety softness across hers,
made her whimper. He moved his hands along her back, down and then up, until he tangled
one hand in her hair and held on, the other continuing its slow exploration along
the fabric of her dress. Her nipples tightened and pressed against his bare chest.

He pulled away, long enough for her to catch her breath and tilt her head back to
gaze into his eyes—eyes that mirrored the mystery of the ocean.

He was panting, too, his full lips parted as he looked down at her, his expression
so intense he almost looked as if he were angry.

But she knew those expressions now. It wasn’t anger. It was pure desire.

He walked her backward several steps until her back hit the wall of the balcony.

“Raise your arms over your head.”

She did, and he smoothed his hands down her arms, so damn slowly she thought she’d
die in agony. The silk abraded her nipples. Her pussy was wet, her clit tingling with
need. She’d worn nothing under her dress, her intent to seduce, to tease.

But now who was the one teasing? It wasn’t her.

Clay used his palms to trace her body, continuing his slow assault with his hands
over her shoulders, across her collarbone, then down her side, lingering when he reached
her breasts. He took a few seconds to trace his thumbs over her nipples. Her breath
caught and she watched, waited for him to tweak them, pull them, but he didn’t, instead
caressing her waist and hips, before his gaze snapped back to her face.

She swallowed, the action fruitless. Her throat had gone dry.

He grasped the material of her dress at her hips, then began to lift.

They were outside on the balcony, but it was dark. No one could see them. But the
fact that Clay was baring her lower body wasn’t lost on her. It was scandalous. Thrilling.

“Part your legs for me, Ella.”

Her legs shook as she widened them. She braced her hands on the wall for support,
found she needed it when Clay slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her sex.
He palmed the wall with his other hand and kept his gaze trained on her face.

“You’re wet. You want me?”

She found it hard to breathe, but managed to form words. “I think you know I do.”

“I don’t know,” he said, sliding his hand across her sensitive flesh. “You’re a mystery
to me. You have to tell me what you want.”

She gasped as his touch liquefied her. He slid two fingers inside her and continued
his assault on her senses. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

He stilled. “What? Tell me.”

She wanted to slide down on his fingers, to grasp more of that sweet pleasure. “Your
fingers. Inside me.”

The teasing smile he gave her wrecked her. “My fingers are already inside you, Ella.
What do you want me to do with them?”

“Fuck me. Fuck me with them.”

He did, sliding them out, then back in again. And when he swirled his thumb over her
clit, she banged her head against the stone wall behind her, oblivious to anything
but the sweet pleasure he gave her. And through it all, Clay watched her, kept his
gaze trained on her face, while his hands performed magic.

She felt her walls tightening around his fingers as with every thrust she grew closer
to orgasm. He swiveled his thumb back and forth in a steady rhythm over the tight
nub of her clit, and she cried out, not caring who heard her. Her climax was swift,
thunderous, and Clay covered her mouth with a deep, amazing kiss as he took her from
the throes of a mighty orgasm to a languorous place where her bones felt soft and
pliant, just like the way his mouth moved over her.

She was shaking, from her legs to her torso and arms. Clay continued to kiss her as
he stepped in front of her, pushed down his shorts, and suddenly she heard the tearing
of a condom wrapper and felt herself being lifted.

Her back scraped the wall as he thrust inside her. She didn’t care, because all she
knew was the feeling of being filled by his cock. His fingers dug into the soft flesh
of her buttocks as he held her while he rammed into her, hard. She held on to his
shoulders and rocked against him, wanting to give him exactly what he gave her.

“Yes,” she said, twining her fingers up into the soft darkness of his hair. “Again.”

He thrust again, and she knew she’d be bruised from this. She didn’t care. She wanted
marks on her, wanted to remember everything from tonight, from this last time with
the man she…

With Clay.

And as he pumped inside her, she used her fingertips to trace the lines on his face,
the fullness of his lips, to memorize everything about him, because this would be
the last time she’d be this close to him.

Again he drove, deeper this time, becoming part of her. He was already part of her,
would always be part of her.

Again, he thrust against her, rolling his hips this time, grinding against her clit.
Her lips parted and she tightened, felt her orgasm from deep within.

“Yes,” he said, his face taking on that angry quality she loved so much, the expression
that said he was close to the edge.

“Come inside me,” she whispered, then pulled at his hair when she came, called out
his name when her orgasm hit her full force. He went with her, and this time he was
as loud as she was, groaning as he pumped repeatedly against her until he shuddered,
let her legs down and rested against her.

This had been the last time.

She felt his heart pounding against hers and lifted her palm to rest it against his
chest.

She never thought she could love anyone again, that James had been it for her.

She’d been so wrong. She loved Clay, loved going to sleep with him at night, loved
waking up with him next to her in the morning. She loved working side by side with
him, arguing with him, laughing with him. She loved everything about him. He was as
different from James as any man could be. James had been quiet and sweet and passive.
Clay was demonstrative and brusque and such a typical alpha male, but there was something
about him that she craved, that she needed.

She didn’t want to let him go.

But she knew she had to.

This had been fantasy, and what they had would never work in the real world.

Eight

Being back at work was both a blessing and a curse. Ella had thrown herself into the
business, which had picked up like crazy while she’d been gone. She’d spent the first
few days buried in paperwork that needed addressing. By the time she’d caught up with
that, she’d headed out to a few of the jobsites to catch up on the status of some
of the ongoing projects, including a new startup.

BOOK: No Strings Attached
7.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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