Perfect for the Beach (33 page)

Christ, but she was a dangerous woman. It was a good thing he liked that about her. His only regret was that he didn’t know before she quit her job just how daring she wanted to be with him. She’d have been under him months ago. He was here to make up for lost time, and he didn’t want to waste a single second. Kat Murphy
would
be his lover before they ended their little vacation—and his wife before they got back to the city. Thanks to her best friend, he had inside information. Whatever flimsy excuse she came up with wouldn’t hold any weight with him. He knew better.

She reached him on the boardwalk and boldly stood too damn close, her green eyes shining brightly from the dark tan of her face as she tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. Her barely covered breasts brushed his chest, and he fought the urge to wrap an arm around her and make full body contact. He grinned at her silent challenge. But his eyes went only as far as her full lips. Even those had been treated with some kind of balm; Sam ached to devour her mouth, and keep
on
kissing her until his lips were coated, as well.
Her taste would linger, too,
he thought hazily.

Sam stepped back, wisely compartmentalizing his emotions and denying her the evidence of his cock responding to her close proximity. Letting her think she was in control would be a mistake, but the raised brow and sly grin she flashed told him that she thought she had it when he retreated.
You’ve met your match, lady,
he conveyed with his matching stare.

Impatience still gnawed at him, and he snagged her hand, nearly dragging her along the boardwalk. “Which hotel is yours?”

“None of them. I’m staying at Jonah’s beach house down the way.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. “Then why are you up here when you could have the beach all to yourself?” he asked. Then his eyes raked over her entire form. “Ah.”

“What do you mean, ‘ah’?” she asked, but she knew what he was thinking. And from the way her jaw dropped and her eyes shot fire at him, she didn’t like him assuming what he had, either.

He raised a brow, giving her the once-over again as he let go of her hand and gestured with his. The muscle in his jaw clenched, not particularly pleased with his own conclusions. “It means that I get it; not many men have access to that private section of beach, and who would you have to flaunt that next-to-nothing suit at if you were sunbathing alone?”

He took her hand again and started off, but she yanked back hard and pulled it away. He turned around, annoyed that she was taking offense to what was completely obvious.

“Is that what you think, Sam? That I like to be ogled, the object of some pervert’s fantasy?”

Sam used his advantage of over six feet of height to crowd her, but she didn’t budge. She just tilted her head farther back. His control was slipping, and not from the thread of conversation, though he knew he could very well be lumped into the pervert category. She was driving him crazy in that getup! “No. I think you like to be a little bit wild and unconventional. And
that,
my dear, will get you into trouble one day. You can bet on it.”

Her hands came up between them and she shoved him hard. Sam was unprepared for it and he stumbled back, but he stayed on his feet. He always knew she had an Irish temper, but he’d never been on the receiving end of it. She was spitting mad, and if he was right, wounded at his accusation.

Her voice dripped scorn. “I’ll have you know that it’s not safe for a woman to sunbathe alone on a deserted beach. Add to that, the dress Camelot chose for me to wear as her maid of honor shows a lot of skin, and I’m in this outfit so I don’t have ugly tan lines when I walk with
you
down the aisle, since you’re Jonah’s best man.”

Sam was almost ashamed that he’d jumped to conclusions. Almost. He couldn’t concentrate when her breasts heaved with every deep breath she took to lash out at him. How could he be sorry when even her wrath dramatized her sexuality? He couldn’t.

His erection was growing by embarrassing leaps as he stared, and it didn’t help matters any when she looked down at his fly. She was insulted that he wasn’t apologetic, but instead was becoming aroused from her dressing down.

“Typical.” She sneered at him. “If we weren’t in a public place with so many kids around, I’d tell you exactly what I think of
you
right about now, buddy.”

She turned and stalked down the boardwalk, past the hotels and shops that lined the strip, her tight curvy ass clad in nothing but that tiny bikini bottom, swaying as she walked at a brisk pace to widen the distance between them. Sam shamelessly enjoyed the view.
Whew, she’s a firecracker!

He yelled after her, “Aw, c’mon, Kat! I’m sorry, all right?” But he stayed rooted to the spot when she turned her head and shot him a nasty scowl as she stormed off. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. As it was, he knew it rankled that she couldn’t flip him the bird. He grinned as he saw her hand curl into a fist, forcing herself to not give in to her ire in front of the very children whose ears she’d refused to corrupt.

He didn’t say another word. He knew where she was headed. Better to let her work off some of that fury he’d provoked.

He used her lounge chair to hide the evidence that her sassy walk and tantrum had stirred in him. How was he expected to think clearly when the sight of her body and her insolence matched every fantasy he’d ever had of her? He was a man, after all. “It’s your fault, Kat,” he muttered to himself.

An hour later, Sam stepped onto the porch of the beach house and spotted his bag sitting beside the chair there. Before he’d headed off to look for Kat, he’d put it just inside and relocked the door.
She thinks she’s going to put me out, does she?
he thought. “Like hell,” he said aloud.

He tried the doorknob. Locked. Sam rolled his eyes, fished the key that Jonah gave him from his pocket and let himself inside.

Kat was in the foyer, leaning against the wall, ankles crossed and arms akimbo, staring at him as he picked up his suitcase. She’d showered and slipped into a pretty, loose-fitting sleeveless dress while he was gone. She was decently attired now, but the shift was short enough that he could see her luscious, tanned legs from midthigh down. He felt the fire in his belly ignite and begin to burn.

“Breaking and entering now, are we, Sam?”

He lifted his gaze to her face and held up the key. “No, sweetheart. I was invited to stay here when I learned where you’d taken off to. What puzzles me is why I wasn’t informed that I’d have a roommate.”

She let out an exasperated breath and dropped her arms. “Damn Camelot and Jonah and their meddling. They should’ve left well enough alone.”

“And you think walking away from your job and your friends was well enough?”

“I didn’t walk away from them. I walked away from you, Sam.”

“Yeah. No kidding,” he grumbled, his gaze sliding from hers. He was glad she’d admitted it, when she’d denied it down on the beach, but he let the subject go without further comment. There would be plenty of time for
that
talk soon enough. For now, he wanted to get settled. Maybe get a drink. He hoped Jonah kept the bar stocked. He’d need one or two to dull his senses enough to concentrate on Kat herself, not what her body and scent were doing to him. She still smelled faintly of coconut oil, and her skin looked silky smooth.

Sam shut the front door with more force than was necessary, but he was battling to shut out the images that played in his head of her body sliding against his. He shook his head and hefted his suitcase, passing her as he strode down the hall.

“Just where do you think you’re going with that?” she asked shrewishly, following close behind him.

“Well, Sherlock, I think I’m going to stow my things in the bedroom.”

“Ah, no, Parrish, I was here first. You’ll take the sofa.”

She collided with him when he halted in the middle of the bedroom and dropped the luggage. He turned around and she stood so close, Sam could swear an electric charge arced between them.

He advanced; she had no choice but to retreat, stepping backward. Reaching a hand past her shoulder, he swung the door shut and kept going until he had her pinned against the hard wood with his body. He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

He was tired, Sam realized. Tired of going round in circles. Of waiting until the time was right.
Well, this is it,
he resolved.

Murmuring low, his voice almost soundless, he said, “No one is sleeping on the sofa, Kat.”

Always a wild thing,
he thought, opening his eyes when she stiffened, trying to work up some bluster.

Kat did indeed have Camelot as a best friend. Sam had gone to her for help in finding out why Kat quit and where she’d gone. She wouldn’t say much, but what she
had
revealed was enough for him to fill in the blanks. It was why he was convinced that Kat was exactly where she wanted to be, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, he wasn’t going to back off until she did.

He wedged a leg between both of hers before she could muster enough indignation, his hard thigh lifting and pressing against her cleft. Her breath whooshed out and her eyelids lowered.
Yeah,
he thought.
We’re both exactly where we need to be.

He braced his forearm against the wood by her head and leaned into her, his other hand sliding around and cupping her bottom. His lips brushed over hers. “I want the truth now, honey. Do you really
want
me on that sofa?”

Kat’s eyes closed. Sam didn’t like it. It gave her time to build a wall of defense against him. He wouldn’t allow that anymore. His thigh flexed and pressed upward. “Kat?”

“N-no,” she stammered, and her heavy lids lifted.

“Good answer,” he rasped, and captured her mouth with his own. He pulled her close and tangled his hand in her hair, his leg continuing the teasing friction. The smell of her shampoo, skin, and
God,
her growing arousal was like a drug to him, dragging him under.

His tongue flicked at the seam of her lips, and she opened readily for him. He groaned and drove in, fully engaging her in their first kiss as lovers.

He kept on kissing her as both hands moved down, cupping her buttocks and maneuvering himself until both of her legs wrapped around his waist. His strength supported her against the door and he ground his growing erection against her center.

Breaking the heated kiss, his breathing ragged, his lips grazed along her cheek, then lower to her throat. He was getting drunk on the feel of her, the delicious taste of her!

She whimpered through swollen, moist lips as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

Sam had barely whetted his ravenous appetite and already his cock had throbbed to aching thickness, needing to be sheathed and surrounded by her warmth. He launched a full-out assault on her senses, and she cried out, her body jolting as his lips closed over the cord at the curve of her neck, sucking her there. He delighted in his discovery; she made the most erotic sound in her throat when his tongue flicked relentlessly over the sensitive spot. “Oh, yeah, Kat. Purr for me,” he growled.

He slid one hand up her ribs to cup her swollen breast through her clothes, plucking at the hard nipple as his teeth nipped at the vulnerable area on the column of her neck.

Her fingers felt like claws on his shoulders as her back arched, and her head rolled against the door as she tipped her chin, urging him on. He held tight to her, stimulating her senses, and she mindlessly reached for the climax that he knew was fast approaching.

She squirmed, thrashing against him as he rocked into her, the two of them all but fucking were it not for the clothes that prevented their union. She finally shattered, screaming out her pleasure. “Oh my God! Sam!”

It was the sound of the sweetest surrender. “That’s it, baby, let yourself go,” he groaned, slowing his movements and reveling in her gratification.

She was wracked with prolonged shudders as he nuzzled her gently. She panted, trying to catch her breath, becoming boneless in his arms, her rushed climax leaving her weak and pliable.

Sam’s gut was tight with restraint and need. Having her this way and evoking her responses had driven him to the very brink, but he was just short of crashing over. He was still hard as a diamond.

Her sexual appetite was something that Sam had been dying to experience, but he’d always denied himself before her fiery glances could pull him in. She was dazzling in her sensuality.

His breath was harsh as he leaned back to look at her. Her curly black hair, tousled and so sexy, had fallen over her face when she rode her climax. Her lips were puffy from their hard, hungry kiss; he wanted to take her fully right there, against the door, but Sam knew if he gave in to the excitement, he’d become a slave to it. And he wanted more than just her desire, seductive as it was. He wanted her to admit her feelings for him. Needed to hear the words. And he would. Soon.