Page 4 of Secret Baby for the Bad Boy

I head back with our two drinks, and we both glance at her friend as I sit. She’s still talking to the same guys, her laughter as she throws her head back making them glance at one another.

“She’s still having fun,” I say, taking a slow sip of my drink, the warmth of the liquor spreading through my body. We talk about nothing and everything—the weather, the music, the taste of freedom that comes with a vacation.

“Vacation's a good time to have fun,” I say, my words hanging between us, an unspoken invitation.

“Is that so?” Lara's glance flickers to mine, curious, her lips forming a perfect circle around her straw in a way that has my body responding.

“Absolutely. There’s no one here that’ll remember or judge, and we’ll never see these people again.” I leave the possibility open, letting it linger in the humid air between us.

Her laughter is soft, almost private, as if she's sharing a joke with herself only. It's a sound that stirs something within me, a heat I have no business feeling.

“Well, I like having fun,” she says, turning her glass in her hand.

“Doesn’t everyone?” My gaze holds hers, steady and unwavering as our deeply personal conversation’s double meaning leaves me wanting more of her.

“Sure.” Her dismissive response tells me she’s not making any promises, but I want her to know I’m serious.

We continue our small talk, offering details about ourselves that skirt who we are. Nothing serious. Nothing too personal. But even with our surface-deep talk, I’m enjoying her responses and thoughts.

Her friend comes back by, the two guys flanking her, and she says she’s going to go for a while. Lara nods, reminding her friend to be safe and gets up to give her a hug. When she’s gone, I see Lara staring off after her, a look on her face that has me wondering if her friend is the risk-taker and Lara is the responsible and safe one.

My fingers, cool from holding my drink, find the edge of the spare room key in my pocket. Pulling it out, I slide it across the space between Lara and me.

Her brows furrow as she looks at the key.

“I’m in room 102,” I say, my voice low and full of promises of how much she’ll enjoy herself if she agrees to join me.

Her hand pauses, hovering just a breath away from the key, her eyes locking on mine. There's a question in them, maybe even a challenge. She's guarded, but the way she tilts her head seems almost like she’s challenging herself. Slowly, deliberately, her fingers slide the key toward her body.

“Room 102,” she says almost thoughtfully as the key disappears into the clutch she’s holding.

I nod, trying to read her, but she's a mystery wrapped in polka-dots with a beautiful smile.

I’d considered a villa instead, but the beautiful hotel room had running water, which won my vote. The villas are beautiful, but I’m not interested in roughing it.

I walk out onto the balcony, staring out over the expanse of the ocean as the world below me ebbs and flows. People laugh, talk, dance. Entertainers dance with fire, and the beat of drums awakes some primal beast within me.

When I turn around, she’s there, in my room, a dream made real by my tired mind.

“Hello,” she says in a soft voice that tells me this is no dream.

“Hello,” I respond, my heart thumping as every inch of my body comes alive. She’d accepted my invitation. She’s here, in my room.

I walk toward her, no other words passing between us; none are needed.

Lara's arms wind around my neck as our lips crush together. It's fierce, a raging inferno of pent-up desire that rips through the careful distance we’d managed to maintain. Our kiss deepens, hungry, raw. Her tongue meets mine as I plunder her mouth, wanting to taste her sweetness as her body presses to mine like she was built for me.

My hands wrap around her, pulling her close as I press both palms to the sexy curve of her backside.

Her hands find the hem of my shirt, pulling it up before her hands glide from the crook of my elbows to my wrists. Her hands guide me to her sundress, and I unbutton her like she’s the best gift on Christmas Day. The look in her eyes is impatient, needy, and there’s an edge of fear there, too, as if this isn’t like her.

As we shed clothing, dropping them to the floor, we stand skin to skin. Our bodies are ready, I can smell her dampness, she can feel my hardness between us. Her soft skin nestles my aching cock perfectly, and I want to take her now.

Wordlessly, I pick her up and push her to the wall, sliding inside her like we’ve done this a million times. She gasps, her fingertips digging into my shoulders.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask, hoping I can control myself and stop if she says yes.

She shakes her head. “Don’t stop.” Her whimper is an order I wouldn’t dream of not following. She’s slick and hot, welcoming the length of me into her body as I grab her ass and lift, then lower her. Her head presses back to the wall, her perfect breasts bouncing against my chest as her body takes me again, again, again.

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