Page 54 of Guarded Hearts
She waved me off. “No, sorry. That was a shitty way to say I’ve made mistakes too. I mean, look at me and Tyler. He became my employee, and people who don’t understand how pregnancy works think that’s when our relationship started. Feelings aren’t neat and tidy, and I get that. I wish you’d done things differently, but I’m not holding what’s happened against you. Okay? Are we cool?”
A wave of gratitude washed over me. “Yeah. We’re cool.”
“Excellent. Enjoy your day.” Mia closed the door behind her.
With a satisfied sigh, I left my phone on the bed and went to find Pasha.
***
Sweat beaded across my middle, and a little river ran down my back. “You ready for the water yet?” I shifted the straps of my bikini top. Tan lines would not go with my dress.
In his lounge chair, Pasha frowned and stuck a bookmark in his book, which he tossed aside. “You want to get wet with me?”
I gave him a sultry glance. “I’m always wet when I’m with you.” I batted my eyelashes at him and turned onto my side, my top tumbling to the soft sand between our chairs.
Hunger entered his gaze as he perused me. “You should always dress like this.”
“Most people wouldn’t call this dressed.”
A smile touched his lips. “I call you perfect.” He crawled over to my chaise lounge and his lips closed over my nipple, his tongue swirling the bud.
Desire zipped down to my core. I sank my hands into his hair with a sigh, cupping his head as he teased and taunted each nipple.
“Is this a good idea?” My voice was breathy, barely audible.
“Mmm,” he muttered into my neck. “I’m not sure I care.”
My laugh was husky. “I know this is a private beach away from the resort, but other people could stumble on us.”
Paparazzi, for example, though Pasha had cleared the resort and surrounding area of anyone who had a whiff of a journalistic or photographic background. Mia and Tyler would be using this beach for their honeymoon in a few days if Tyler had his way. Privacy was key.
“Just tell me to stop.” His voice was strained with desire. He flexed his hips, pressing his erection against me.
The primal urge to connect raged in response. He played dirty. He’d come to know all the ways I liked to have sex, all the positions he could get me to climax in, and I loved him for his thoroughness. Having him grind against my core was bested only by his mouth.
I moaned. “Don’t stop.”
When I wiggled underneath him, one of his hands cupped my ass, securing me against his hardness. The delicious friction caused my judgment to drift away with the tide.
“Please.” I gripped his ass and wrapped my legs around him, the movement of his hips, even with our clothes as a barrier, driving me wild. “Don’t stop.” His lips sought mine, and our tongues tangled as he thrust against me. “I want you.”
“Here? Now?”
Sometimes desire spiked like this—so hot, so quick, so intense—I wanted to come quickly and never wanted the pleasure to end. “Yes. Yes.”
He slipped down his swim shorts, tugged my bottoms to the side, and slid inside me with a groan. “You feel so good.” The words were in Russian, but he’d said them enough the last few months that I’d eventually asked for a translation. The only Russian words I now knew were dirty and sexual. The rawness in his voice when he used them, as though he couldn’t control himself, wasn’t capable of holding the words back, only added to their intimacy. Each word was a note to a song only he could play.
Tomorrow would be a whirlwind of wedding activity, and then I was leaving the next morning on the first flight off the island. Pasha wouldstay behind, keep doing his job. The time we had left together was so short.
I bit his shoulder to keep the words I wanted to say from tumbling out. Instead of dwelling on what could never be, I should turn off my mind and let my body lead the way. Our time together was coming to an end, and tears flooded my vision. Would I ever find another man who made me feel like this? A tear broke the dam, sliding down my cheek.
“Alyssa?” His voice was gruff, full of concern.
When I met his gaze, I dug my nails into his ass to keep him close. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
A guttural sound rumbled out of him. Our bodies brushed together with increasing intensity, so close to detonating my body. When my orgasm struck, he swallowed my cries and picked up his pace, spilling himself inside me.
For a moment, while we were locked together at the height of intimacy, I wished I hadn’t been so diligent with birth control. A silly thought, perhaps, but it had been coming with more regularity—the sharp desire for more.
