Page 39 of Wilde Nights in Paradise

Her gaze drifted down his body, her eyes widening at the sight of his straining cock. After a second that seemed to last for years, she slowly settled back against the pillows and let her knees fall open. Her hand returned to her pretty pink sex, and as he watched her dip her fingers inside herself, his whole body started to tremble.

“I did call for you,” she admitted and dropped her head back to stare at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “I was imaging you doing this, your fingers right here where mine are, stroking me.”

He couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the slow slide of her fingers in and out. Unconsciously, he matched his strokes to her rhythm.

“I want you,” she gasped, and he saw he wasn’t the only one trembling. As her thumb pressed against her clit, her legs shook so hard she vibrated the bed. “I want you, and I know I shouldn’t. I can’t help myself.”

“You want me?” He was panting now, about to go off like a teenager making out in the backseat of his first car. He wanted to be inside her when he did, and it took every ounce of control he could muster not to jump onto that bed and pound into her until they were both screaming. “Say the word, Libs. That’s all you gotta do.”

She caught his gaze, held it. “Yes.”

He dove for the nightstand and yanked open the drawer for the condoms he’d stored there during their first night in Key West. As he ripped one open and covered himself, Libby’s velvet laugh was more seductive than a caress. It rippled down his spine and tightened his balls, leaving him breathless and desperate to plunge into her body.

But not yet. Not quite yet.

He grabbed her ankles and pulled her across the bed. Rough. Too rough, and yet he couldn’t seem to slow it down, take it easy. He held her open, looped her legs over his shoulders, and bent to taste her. Just a quick taste for now—he already wasn’t going to last long and needed inside her.

Libby cried out and bucked against his mouth, her legs going rigid around his shoulders as the orgasm she’d been striving for slammed through her, leaving her gasping, the muscles in her thighs quivering. He gave her clit one last tease with his tongue, then stood and buried himself all the way inside her in one hard plunge. Again. And again. She screamed his name with her next climax, and the sound shattered his control. He leaned over her, planted his hands by her hips for better leverage and pumped hard, driving in as deep as he could get. His release surged out of him with so much power, he half feared his cock had exploded.

Breathing ragged, sweat chilling his overheated skin, he fell forward, catching himself on his forearms and resting his head on her breasts. His feet were still flat on the floor, but with the way his damn legs trembled, he didn’t think he’d be able to lift his weight off her for…oh, never. Her heart hammered under his ear, and he smiled sleepily at the sound.

“Can you move?” Libby finally said. “I need water.”

Oh shit. She didn’t sound content. More like annoyed. Had he done something wrong? He wracked his lust-addled brain for any hint that he’d screwed up. She’d said yes, and he knew she’d come at least twice before he’d lost himself in his own pleasure and quit counting. Maybe she’d been faking…but he didn’t think so. Nobody could fake the involuntary muscle spasms that had squeezed his cock so hard that he’d been unable to hold back his own orgasm.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He willed his still trembling muscles to work and straightened, realizing too late that he was still inside her. He hissed as their bodies dislodged, and she let out a soft moan.

Son of a bitch, he was already getting hard again. He watched Libby walk toward the master bath until the door closed behind her, then disposed of the condom and sat down on the bed, making himself comfortable with a pillow behind his back. With a mix of wonder and disgust at himself, he stared down his body at his cock, which was definitely up for a round two.

That woman. Christ, he must be a glutton for punishment because he just couldn’t get enough.

When the door opened again, she stood silhouetted by the bathroom lights, wrapped up in a short robe that looked silky to the touch. He wanted to take that soft tie off the robe and wind it around her wrists. Or, hell, she could even tie him up with it. Actually, that thought was far too appealing, and he covered himself with his hands to hide his instant reaction.

Unmoving, she stared at him from the doorway for a long time.

Jude winced at the expression on her face. “Are you gonna pull out the ‘this was mistake’ line and kick me back to the couch?”

She rolled her bottom lip through her teeth, but then shook her head. “No, not this time. We’re both adults now. We should be able to carry on a physical affair.”

“A physical affair,” he echoed. Was she saying…? No way. She couldn’t be. He must have misunderstood or something. Then again, there wasn’t much in her statement to misunderstand. “Uh, lemme make sure I’m hearing you right. Just for the sake of clarity. You want to keep having sex?”

“We may be here for a while. It’s logical, as long as we keep emotions out of it.”

Jude blinked. This was too good to be true. “No emotions?”

“None,” she agreed and moved to sit on the end of the bed. “Just sex. There’s no denying the chemistry we have in bed, so why not exploit it? At very least, it’s a nice distraction.”

Nice distraction. Those oh-so-logical words tweaked something a little too close to his heart for comfort, so he did what he always did when something hurt: he grinned. “Well, hell. What kind of a man would I be if I said no to that deal?”

Chapter Fifteen

No news. Save for the incessant calls from the damn lawyer for updates to give Pruitt, nothing much was happening.

Jude sighed, pocketed his phone, and continued pacing the house. Part of him—Libby would say the insane part of him—almost wished something would happen with K-Bar already. Even with their mutually satisfying nights together, the days were beginning to seem endless, and sitting around the house waiting for an anvil to drop on their heads was starting to grate on his nerves. Libby’s, too, if he had to guess by the way she’d gone all neat-freak on him. The woman had spent almost every waking moment scrubbing, mopping, and dusting, and last night he’d noticed the effects of all that hard work in her chapped hands and ragged fingernails. He kept expecting her to run out of things to clean, but she always managed to find something else, so this morning, he’d suggested she relax and read another book. That had not gone over well. She’d thrown it in his face that she wouldn’t have to clean every day if he didn’t make such a mess all of the time.

“What mess?” he’d demanded incredulously, pulled off the basketball shorts he liked to sleep in, and tossed them aside while he rooted around in his drawer for a pair of board shorts for his morning swim. “The place is cleaner now than when we arrived.”

“Yourmess!” She scooped up his shorts and stuffed them in the hamper along with her nightshirt. She looked gorgeous standing there in her bra and panties and nothing else, but he was too annoyed to act on his cock’s interest.

---