Private Paradise (4 page)

She felt his hand slide down her stomach,
down the front of her shorts to cup her between her legs. He
circled the heel of his palm against her through the stiff cotton
fabric. She rocked herself against him, trying to get closer
contact but it wasn't enough.

Then his hand was gone and she gave a
frustrated moan, only to freeze when she felt his fingers tugging
at the button at her waistband. She caught his wrist. “Sam, I don't
want to.. I'm not ready to...” she hoped he wouldn't get mad, call
her a prude and storm off like Nick Greene who'd taken her to
prom.

Sam kept his hand where it was. He leaned up
and kissed her, deep, drugging kisses that made her blood run like
thick, sweet honey in her veins. “I know, you don't have to worry.
We won't do it until you're ready. But tonight I'd really love to
make you come.”

Carla felt like her whole body was blushing
at his frank words. Her pulse pounded between her thighs with
renewed urgency. She shifted her knees wider and gave him a little
nod.

He flicked open the button of her shorts and
the buzz of her zipper lowering seemed to echo in the quiet
stillness. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her breath came
in nervous pants as he slid his hand down the front of her
panties.

His fingers stroked through her curls and
slid down farther, parted her. Another wave of self-consciousness
at the sound her own wetness made against his probing fingers. She
was drenched down there, her panties drenched, her flesh slick and
slippery against Sam's long, strong fingers.

Did other girls get so wet? Obviously that
was what was supposed to happen, but was she maybe a little
excessive? Was he disgusted?

All of her fears dissolved as Sam groaned,
“You feel so good. You're so fucking hot,” against her neck as his
fingers parted her. She let out a surprised cry as his fingers
stroked and circled the tight knot of her clit. He slid his hand
down farther, and she let out a gasp as he slid a finger inside
her.

At first the invasion felt strange, almost
uncomfortable, but as he moved his finger in and out in slow, slick
thrusts she could feel her body tighten around him. He slipped in a
second finger to join the first, and she could feel her body
stretch to fit him.

This would be what it would be like to have
sex with him, she thought. Then all thought became impossible as
his thumb burrowed into her slick folds to circle her clit in a
firm rhythm as his fingers continued their slick thrusts.

Tension pulled her body tight and she could
feel her orgasm building, beyond anything she'd ever felt on her
own. He held her there, stroking, thrusting, swallowing her
whimpers of pleasure into his mouth as she teetered on the edge of
pleasure like nothing she'd ever known.

And then she broke, falling into the abyss,
her body clenching around his fingers as her heartbeat pulsed
through her entire body.

Carla jerked awake, her body covered in sweat
as the last tremor of the orgasm shook through her. She was
breathing hard. Her nipples were pulled tight, chafing against the
fabric of her tank top. Between her legs she could feel her tender,
swollen flesh, pulsing as the last vestiges of the dream faded
away.

She stared sightlessly into the dark as the
reality of what had just happened sank in.

She'd had the female equivalent of a wet
dream.

About the first time Sam made her come.

What was it she'd said to him earlier? You're
going to do exactly what I did and forget anything ever
happened.

Right. Too bad her subconscious and her
traitorous body hadn't received the memo.

Her heart pounded in the aftermath of her
dream, her skin hot and tingly despite her release. Between her
legs, she felt achy and damp.

She threw back the covers and went out the
French doors that opened up onto the veranda overlooking the bay.
It was early―just after 5 a.m. she saw when she looked at her
watch, and pink was just tingeing the sky and giving the water on
the horizon a spectacular orange glow.

One of the perks of the GM job―even on a
provisional basis―was that when Chris moved over to Coral Cay,
Carla got to move into his pad, which was pretty sweet if she did
say so herself. This deck, with its amazing view of the turquoise
blue sea and the islands dotting the horizon never failed to bring
her a sense of calm after even the most hectic days.

But not now. Now the cool breeze was like a
rasp against her too sensitive skin. The whisper of the palm trees
rippling in the wind like buzzsaws in ears suddenly as keen as a
German shepherd's. She found herself, not looking out at the water,
but scanning the other buildings of the resort, her stare locking
on the whitewashed building that included apartments for the staff
who lived on site.

Sam was in there. Just down the hall from her
old place. In keeping with his senior management position, his
apartment was one of the larger ones, a full one bedroom as opposed
to a studio unit, and also had a small deck off the main room.

It came fully furnished with padded teak
furniture in the main room and a king size bed in the bedroom.

She closed her eyes, imagining him there,
white sheets tangled around him, contrasting with his richly
bronzed skin. His bare, muscled chest rising and falling in sleep.
Then another, stomach curdling thought intruded.

What if he wasn't alone?

Knowing Sam, he'd already caught the eye of
one of the cute young cocktail waitresses, or even one of the
guests. There were at least half a dozen young – and not so young –
single women here this week. All wealthy and on the prowl, and
Carla hadn't missed the way every female eye had tracked Sam's
progress as she gave him a full tour of the resort earlier this
afternoon.

It had been like that even when Sam was a
teenager, and by the time he'd hit his early twenties it was
radiating full force. And in the years Carla had known him, from
what she'd heard from Chris and the whispers in the hallways of
Spring Valley High School, Sam hadn't hesitated in using it to his
advantage.

Carla had already known Sam for five years
when she found out they would be working together at a resort on
the shores of Lake Mead, outside of Las Vegas. Though she knew him
only casually, she knew well enough to give him a wide berth.

Not that she thought she'd have to worry.
Carla was a straight A student, and any time she didn't spend
studying was spent working to make up the difference in tuition and
living expenses that the scholarship the University of Arizona had
offered her wouldn't cover. She wasn't a partier and went out only
occasionally, and even then it was because Chris showed up and
dragged her out of the house.

He'd been a senior to her freshman, and
usually the other kids at the party had looked at her, then at
Chris, as if to ask why he'd brought this alien from planet geek in
to contaminate their party? When Chris had graduated and gone off
to UC Berkeley, he'd still made a point of pulling her away from
the books a couple times a year or so, when he came back over
school breaks.

On those infrequent occasions, she always saw
Sam. It was impossible not to notice him. He was tall,
broad-shouldered, larger than life. With his thick dark hair and
striking blue eyes glittering with humor and a little something
extra as he held court, surrounded by the crowd of popular kids,
the guys all laughing at his jokes and the girls practically
panting at his feet, each one hoping she would be the one offered a
ride home only to have him take a long detour on the way.

Each time, she'd felt that nervous tightening
in her lower belly the second she laid eyes on him. He'd never
spared her more than a grin and a nod over the heads of his adoring
throngs, and Carla wasn't convinced he knew her as anyone other
than Chris's cousin.

So when she'd seen him that first day at new
employee orientation―Carla had been hired as a waitress in the main
dining room while Sam worked at the resort's marina―even though
she'd felt that same tight flutter in her core, she knew that with
all of the leggy blonds and brunettes with the bright smiles and
easy going attitudes would capture his attention far before she
did.

Why go for dark, dumpy, and studious when you
could have cocktail waitress Barbie over here?

Besides, Carla had told herself sternly at
the time, on the snowball's chance in hell that Sam did give her a
second look, with what she knew about Sam and the way he operated,
there was no way she'd ever fall for his charm.

She'd never be stupid enough to go for a
player like him.

God had she been wrong. He'd singled her out
the night after their first shift. Even though all of the seasonal
employees―especially those under twenty-one like her―were supposed
to be in their respective same sex rooms, doors locked with
absolutely no intermingling of the sexes later than eleven, no one
really followed the rules.

Carla had tried. Afraid of getting caught and
fired when she really needed the tips from this job to cover her
first semester expenses, she'd told her roommate she was going to
turn in early. Her roommate, a leggy blonde who was going into her
sophomore year at ASU had shrugged and rolled her eyes as she left,
giggling with another girl from down the hall.

Not ten minutes had passed and there was a
knock on her door. She opened the door, startled when she saw Sam
O'Connell on the other side.

Leaning against the door jamb, he towered a
good foot over her. His tanned, muscled arms were exposed by a
t-shirt grown soft from too many washings. His blue eyes glittered
against his tan skin and his teeth flashed white as his full lips
pulled into a grin. “Aren't you coming out to play?”

Even now Carla's face got hot with
embarrassment at the way she'd stammered something
incomprehensible, unable to articulate a single thought under the
force of that blue-eyed gaze.

With a knowing smile he pushed past her,
grabbed her room key off the table and the sweater she'd tossed on
the foot of the bed. “Grab your shoes.”

It was like an alien force had taken over her
body and she had no choice but to obey. She'd shoved her feet into
flip flops, unable to focus on anything but the heat and feel of
his hand that had grabbed hers. Big, so big it swallowed hers up,
with long, thick fingers whose calluses rasped against her skin and
started up a tight, tickling sensation low in her belly.

As they darted down the stairs that led to
the lake shore Carla could see the glow of a small bonfire and hear
a group of people a few hundred yards down the shore. Carla started
toward them but Sam tugged her hand in the opposite direction.

“
Aren't we going to the party?” Carla
said, breathless both from trying to keep up and from the feel of
his firm grip and the scent of him carried to her on the cool night
air. It was indescribable, the scent of soap on leather, a warm,
masculine smell that made her want to bury her face in the place
where his neck met his shoulder and take a deep inhale.

“
I want to show you something,” Sam
said, tugging her further up the rocky bluff.

Carla scrambled to keep her feet on the loose
gravel that covered the rocks as they climbed. Finally, Sam stopped
on a plateau that sat above the resort and in the daytime would
offer a gorgeous view of the lake. There was an outcropping of
boulders in the center and Sam tugged her around to the far side,
away from the lake.

He let go of her hand and slipped his arm
around her waist. “Check it out.”

Carla let out an involuntary gasp. At the
gorgeous view of the night dark sky, glittering with stars and so
clear she could easily make out the Milky Way, extending out into
the distance until it met the glittering neon lights of the
strip.

At the feel of Sam's fingers, curling around
the curve of her hip, his thumb finding the bare strip of flesh
between her shorts and tank top and brushing back and forth, back
and forth, making her mouth go dry and her nipples tighten almost
painfully against the cups of her bra.

One handed, he flicked the blanket out and
pulled her down to it. He tucked her against his side as though it
was the most natural thing in the world, his arm around her back,
his hand now resting on the bare skin of her thigh below her
shorts. A cool breeze drifted over her skin, but Carla didn't feel
the cold. Not with Sam so solid against her, his body throwing of
waves of heat so fierce she half expected her skin to start
sizzling where he touched her.

In the distance she could hear the muffled
conversation and laughs from the others. She wondered if he could
feel the way her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in the
tips of her fingers, in her stomach.

Between her legs.

She struggled to control her breath,
embarrassed that she was panting like a dog when he'd done nothing
more than touch her leg.

“
I love how you can see all the stars
up here,” he said in a low voice. “I bet if you knew what to look
for, you could find every constellation in the sky.”

Carla slanted him a look. She could make out
his profile, shadowed in the moonlight. It was impossible to read
his expression, but there was no way he’d brought her up here just
to look at the stars.

When was he going to kiss her? There was a
nervous twist in her stomach. Carla tried to cover it up with a
snappy retort. “Right, and I bet you're going to try to show me the
Big Dipper.”

A laugh exploded from his chest. “Not unless
you want me to.”

“
It's right up there,” Carla said,
pointing at the constellation, so distinct in the clear night
sky.

“
Where... oh, wait, I can see it.
Cool.”