Down for the Count Page 7

  but his words weren’t making any sense. We’re down with either one.

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again with a snap, unable to fully grasp what was happening. Cyrus’s fingers traced a path from her shoulder to the nape of her neck, and although she didn’t feel any malice coming from him, the desire to jerk away was almost overpowering.

  Galen locked gazes with her and gave her a reassuring smile. There was no tension in his tone when he turned to Nikki and spoke. “Listen, I’m flattered, and I’m sure Lacey is, too, but—”

  “Ah, the ‘but.’” The other man’s grin turned sheepish as he released Lacey and stepped away. “I’m really sorry; I thought this was already sort of agreed upon.” He sent his fiancée an irritated look. “I told you, babe. They’ve only got eyes for each other. You were way off.”

  Nikki’s brow wrinkled and she ran a hand through her wet hair. “When we were in the ladies room at the restaurant, I out and out asked her if she would do a full switch and she said yeah…”

  Lacey’s face burned. “I thought you meant the lip gloss.” She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling more naked than she’d felt when the tide had swept away her bikini top.

  Nikki chuckled, and then her chuckles turned into full belly laughter. A moment later, Cyrus joined her. “Oh my God.” She gasped, swiping tears from her eyes with her knuckle. “I had no clue what you were doing with that. Cy, she sort of took my lip gloss and gave me hers and I was totally baffled, thinking, Must be a Rhode Island thing.”

  Cyrus howled and Galen’s ear-to-ear grin made Lacey’s cheeks burn even more. Still, they were handling it really well, and when she thought about it, it was kind of funny.

  “It must have been wishful thinking on my part,” Nikki said, setting a hungry gaze on Galen. Just when a stab of jealousy poked through Lacey’s semi-shock, Nikki set an equally hungry gaze on Lacey. “I don’t know who’s sexier, him or you.”

  “Definitely him,” Lacey blurted.

  That got them laughing again, although it took Lacey a little while to catch up.

  When the chuckles died down, there was a long and uncomfortable silence. “So are we all cool then? Friends but not luvahs? Unless of course you change your mind,” Nikki said, waggling her brows.

  Could these cool, beautiful people actually be attracted to her? Boring, white-bread Lacey? In spite of her embarrassment, she found herself just a little tickled at the thought. Instead of hiding her flaming-hot face like she wanted to, Lacey smiled. “Sure thing.”

  They all stood around, unsure of what to do next, when Galen saved the day. “On that note, I think it’s probably best if we call it a night. Neither of us got a whole lot of sleep and we still have to walk back. We truly appreciate your hospitality.”

  Galen inched toward the side of the pool, waiting for her to follow suit. She sent a panicked glance at Cyrus and Nikki, who took pity on her by swimming off deeper into the lagoon. As soon as they were out of sight, she scurried out of the pool and into the towel Galen held out for her.

  “You okay to walk back or do you want to get a cab?” he asked softly.

  “It’s less than a mile; we can walk.” Despite the balmy air, her lips were trembling and she pressed them together to make them stop.

  “It’s okay, squirt. You’re okay. We had a great night until that weirdness at the end, and you handled yourself beautifully. Now let’s get the hell out of here before they think we changed our minds.” That got her moving and a few minutes later, they were dressed and calling out their good-byes to Cyrus and Nikki.

  They headed off back down the beach toward the villa. To his credit, Galen didn’t say a negative word to her. The old Galen would have. He would have raked her over the coals about her naiveté and busted her chops mercilessly about the whole incident. Lip gloss, indeed. Her cheeks warmed again and she broke the silence with a groan. “Oh my God, that was so mortifying.” She had opened the floodgates, so surely now he would tease her about it.

  Instead, he shrugged. “No biggie.”

  No biggie? She’d weathered her first—and hopefully last—orgy invitation, and he said, “No biggie”? She spared a glance his way, wishing she could see his expression better in the dim light. Was he disappointed? Wishing she’d agreed so he could get some one-on-one time with Nikki? The thought didn’t sit well. “I know you said you didn’t want me to have any regrets or miss out on any experiences, but I hope you understand why I couldn’t do…that.”

  It took so long for him to reply, she started to wonder if he even heard her. Then, a few short steps from their villa door, he tugged her to a stop. “For someone as smart as you, your instincts sure suck.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there is no way I’d want you to be with someone else, especially not in front of me. But let’s get one thing straight, squirt. When you come to your senses and you’re ready to have the experience of a lifetime? I’m your guy. I’m the one you’re going to get wild with.” He took her wrist and tugged her close until they were pressed together. Thighs against thighs. Hips against hips. “I’m the one who’s going to show you that getting down and dirty doesn’t mean rolling in the wet sand.”

  The past two days had been the craziest of her life, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold up against the battering ram of his sexual attention. Their carnal kiss and head-to-toe embrace was tattooed on her brain, a live-action trailer of what could be if she stopped being such a prude. She had been right there, but for stupid Marty hanging over her head. Even now, she felt tense, like her skin was on too tight. As if her body knew that she’d left the only orgasm of her life back at that pool and was rebelling against her for pulling away. Her muscles clenched under the intensity of his gaze, but before she could stammer a response, he stepped back.

  “But not until you’re ready.” He took out their key and opened the door.

  Relief warred with disappointment. He was letting her off the hook. For now. He waved her through the door, following close behind.

  “That was a pretty interesting way to spend an evening,” he said, his tone light as he closed the door behind them.

  “Interesting is putting it mildly,” she said, happy to take the reprieve. “Cat’s not going to believe this. My first orgy. That’s even crazier than the time she and that fireman—”

  He clapped his hands over his ears. “Jesus Christ, Lacey, I don’t want to hear that shit. I’m going to have to bleach my brain. And anyway, it wasn’t exactly an orgy. More like a near miss.” She frowned and he uncovered his ear. “It doesn’t make it any less awesome, though,” he assured her. “It’s an honor just to be nominated.”

  Surely this was the most absurd conversation ever. She’d expected to be a married woman, exploring Old San Juan with her husband Marty all day today…or at least until his sciatica started acting up. Instead, she was here talking about her almost-orgy after nearly having sex in the pool with Galen. Her nemesis. Her tormentor. Her dream guy. The dream guy who had rocked her straight down to her toes less than an hour ago. Strange how life threw curveballs like that out of nowhere.

  “You want some iced tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

  “No, thanks.” She padded across the marble floor and sat on the edge of the couch, pressing her fingers to her lips. Here he was, casually talking about iced tea, and all she could think of was his mouth. How was she going to get it out of her mind now that she’d tasted it?

  And his hands…God, those hands.

  Hands that don’t belong on you, she reminded herself. No matter how much she wished otherwise, she was still a married woman, and what they’d done was wrong.

  It didn’t feel wrong.

  Suddenly, the adrenaline of the night drained from her body, and her rioting emotions came to a dead halt. The ensuing numbness was almost a relief. No more thinking for the night. She was like a dog chasing its tail and getting nowhere anyway. Once she got a good nigh
t’s sleep, she’d sit down and figure out how to handle this, and more importantly, how to handle Galen.

  She flopped to the side and curled up her legs. Briefly, she contemplated changing out of her damp bra and underwear and into her pajamas but then dismissed it. A few minutes of rest first. She couldn’t hold back the loud, hippo-like yawn. “I think the last couple days are catching up with me, because I totally just hit the wall.”

  “Just change and go to bed, then. Once I get out of these clothes, I’m going to get some shut-eye myself.”

  She grumbled and shifted, settling more deeply into the cushions. “You go ahead, and by the time you’re done I’ll be ready to get up.” Maybe she’d close her eyes for a few minutes until he returned. Being wild was exhausting.

  …

  Soft snores greeted him as he reentered the living room. He shook his head, bemused. Lacey was the only person he knew who could fall asleep in less than a minute. Didn’t matter where it was, either, or what was happening around her. She’d gone on a camping trip with his family the year she and Cat were starting high school. He was going into junior year and couldn’t believe his parents hadn’t let him stay home alone. Then they’d made it ten times worse by letting Cat bring a friend. He was going to be stuck in the woods for seven days with Tweedle-Annoying and Tweedle-Even-More-Annoying. Awesome.

  Up to that point, he’d made it his life’s work to mess with them both, but at fifteen, even that was beneath him. In preparation for the coming school year, he’d taken to aggressively ignoring them. Cleary, that wasn’t going to work for this camping trip, because the three of them—Cat, Lacey, and him—had been unceremoniously smashed into the backseat of his mother’s Civic. Lacey had gotten the hump in the center because she was the smallest, but that left her pressed up against his side like some kind of person-sized parasite, sucking his perpetual horniness to the surface. Beanpole or not, she was still a teenage girl, and he was a mass of hormones writhing under the paper-thin wrappings of a teenage boy. While he sat and suffered, two minutes into the trip—yes, before they’d even left city limits—she was snoring, with her face pressed against his shoulder.

  For four hours, she tortured him. Her leg, bared to the thigh in her white cotton shorts, rubbing against his with every turn. Her nearly nonexistent breasts jiggling, just a little, every time his father hit a pothole. Her hand, flopping to his lap, so close to the mother lode he was reduced to gritting his teeth. And on she slept, like a rock, sawing wood as if she didn’t have a care in the world. A teenage sleeping Lacey. While the boy in him had found her hard to resist back then, in spite of his every effort to hide it, the man in him now was in far worse shape.

  The memory had him grinning like an idiot as he stared down at grown-up sleeping Lacey. Now he was in a jam, though, because he wasn’t sure if he should bring her into the bedroom for a comfortable night’s sleep or if he should leave her on the couch. That morning, they’d called and asked for extra bedding from the concierge and had set up the small spare room for him to sleep in, so it was easy to take his own feelings out of it. Sharing a bed with her again wasn’t an option.

  A puff of cool air from the vent above hit him on the back of the neck and it was settled. She was still in damp clothes and the room was chilly. She really needed to change. He knelt beside her and shook her shoulder gently. “Lacey, wake up.”

  “Go ’way,” she mumbled before flipping onto her side with a snuffle.

  He grinned and tried again, shaking a little harder. Nada. With a sigh, he bent low and scooped her up. Immediately, her arms circled his neck and she pressed closer. He steeled himself and crossed the room, trying to ignore the softness of her breast branding his chest as he walked. Jesus, maybe it was because his body was still in hyperdrive from their petting in the pool, but by the time they reached one of the bedrooms, he was sporting a full-blown hard-on.

  Not bothering to flick on the light, he set her gently on the bed. He tried to disengage himself, but she would have none of it. She kept her arms locked around his neck and yanked until he was sprawled on top of her.

  “Don’t wanna be alone,” she murmured, burying her nose into his throat. He rolled to the side, tugging her along with him until she lay in the crook of his arm. With a contented sigh, she snuggled in deeper and hooked her thigh over his hip. Hot blood roared to his cock. What the fuck was he going to do now? Over the past two days, he’d seen a side of Lacey he’d never seen before and, if he was being totally honest with himself, he’d thought she was pretty great before. Now he knew that, on top of her kind-hearted if not somewhat neurotic nature and smoking-hot body, she’d also been hiding a well of untapped sensuality. It was a lethal combination. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to touch someone so badly he could taste it.

  She’d made herself clear, though. She wasn’t about to go there with him. Not right now, anyway. And maybe now was all they had. Maybe this was a fluke, an anomaly created by the perfect storm of events that would subside once they left the island. Then they’d go back to their regularly scheduled program. A program that didn’t include him wanting to tear off her clothes and make her scream his name over and over.

  Then again, maybe this was always the way it was meant to go. Maybe the timing had never been right. There had been a short period in grade school where he thought she might have a crush on him, but he’d been far too old for her. When they finally bridged the perceived gap, they were in high school. He was way too cool to hang out with his little sister and her friends, and she certainly hadn’t seemed interested anyway. By the time they reached adulthood, one of them always seemed to have a significant other and it had been so easy to fall into the sniping that had become the norm for them. But now, he was single and she was well on her way to the same. Maybe this was their time.

  Whenever she’s ready, he reminded himself.

  He inched away, trying to get a little space between them, but for every centimeter he gained, she scooted two closer until she was almost on top of him. Her warm breath tickled his neck and he grudgingly gave up the fight as the lure of a warm female on a comfortable bed after a long day of sun and surf took over.

  He slid his hand into her hair and closed his eyes, letting the image of her in her bikini bottoms, bare breasts streaked with sand, play like a silent film against the backs of his eyelids. His cock throbbed against her thigh and he groaned. Thirteen nights left.

  Which was unfortunate, because at this rate? He’d be dead in three.

  Chapter Seven

  “Unless something’s changed, I’m going to have to ask that you unhand me.”

  Galen’s sleep-roughened voice poured over her like honey, and her eyes drifted opened. His handsome face, made even more so by the morning whiskers shadowing his jaw, came into focus. “What do you mean?”

  He flipped his heavy-lidded gaze downward, and she followed suit.

  “Omigod. I am so sorry!” She jerked her hand away and covered her mouth in mortification. For the second morning in a row, one of her appendages had wound up in up-close-and-personal contact with his manly parts.

  “Hey, no harm no foul. I’m not usually one to complain about waking up to a morning cock massage, but I didn’t want to reach the boiling point only to find out you were actually dead asleep and dreaming about milking a cow.”

  She closed her eyes and ducked her head under the covers, wishing she could disappear. “How did we end up in the same bed again?” She remembered falling asleep on the couch, but after that, it was all a pleasant blur.

  “Cut it out.” His muffled voice became clear as he yanked the blanket off her head. “I can’t even hear you like that.”

  She picked a spot on the wall and stared at it, hard. “I asked how we got in the same bed again.”

  “I put you in and you didn’t want to be alone.” He shrugged. “Far be it from me to argue with a pretty lady. And frankly, until about ten seconds ago, I was thinking it was a great decision out of me.”

&nbs
p; Despite the teasing words, she could feel the sexual tension rolling off him. It took all her strength not to bolt before she jumped his bones and finished what she’d unwittingly started. God, he’d felt good in her hand. Big. Hard. Ready for—

  A ring blared from Galen’s cell phone on the bedside table, mercifully derailing her thoughts. She felt the heat of his gaze on her as he reached to answer it, and she knew their discussion was far from over.

  “Hello.” He paused and then covered the receiver with his hand. “It’s your lawyer.”

  She was seriously going to have to think about picking up a new cell. While she didn’t relish the idea of talking to her mother anytime soon, it was irresponsible to be out of contact like this, and the guilt was weighing on her. She took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lacey. I have some news.”

  “Okay, let me just…” She gave Galen an apologetic smile along with a finger wiggle and climbed out of the bed, making sure to suck in her belly in case he was looking. She crossed the room in search of some privacy. It was impossible to think straight with him staring at her with that better to eat you with smile, and something about Allen’s tone told her that whatever news he had was worth paying attention to.

  She went into the hallway bathroom and closed the door behind her. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “You’re going to love me for this. In fact, you can send the Dom Pérignon to my penthouse.”

  The Fitzhumes had been friends of the family and she and Allen had had very similar upbringings. They’d both been coerced into attending the same events, taking tennis lessons from the same instructor, and resenting the hell out of it all. She had a reasonable amount of filial affection for him, but in that moment, if he were there she would’ve popped him in the gut for toying with her. “Stop dancing around and spill it, Fitz!”

  “According to the state of Rhode Island, you’re not married.”

  “What do you mean? Reverend Maclan performed the service.” Blood rushed to her ears and her legs felt like wet noodles. She sank to the vanity chair and tried not to let hope overtake common sense. “Marty and I both signed the certificate. And I saw the reverend sign it, too.”

  “Right on both counts. But…”

  The dramatic pause made Lacey want to jump through the phone and strangle him. She dragged a hand over her face. “You’re killing me right now. Killing. Me. Please, just spit it out.”

  “Bu-ut, Reverend Maclan hadn’t filed the paperwork yet. There will be a fee involved, which I agreed on your behalf to pay, but I have the unfiled certificate here. We tear it up and voilà! It never happened.”

  She doubled over, suddenly swamped with dizziness. “Are you one hundred percent sure?” she croaked. Please say yes. She couldn’t take it if this turned out to be some terrible mistake.

  “No doubt about it. Once we get off the phone, I’m going to call Marty’s lawyer and let him know. You, my dear, are a single woman.”

  She disconnected and stood. A single woman. Relief sent a cocktail of emotions racing through her, and she started to shake. Hysterical laughter bubbled over and tears sprang to her eyes. Something had finally broken her way, and now there was nothing stopping her from spending the next couple weeks doing the one thing she’d wanted more than anything else. It would hurt when it was over, and she wasn’t about to fool herself into thinking it was anything more than a fling, but suddenly it didn’t matter.

  She made her way to the hall and faced the bedroom door, behind which Whalin’ Galen Thomas lay, shirtless and waiting. Like a present, half unwrapped, just for her. She might not be able to satisfy a man like him, but she was going to try her damnedest.

  …

  Galen propped up the pillows and picked up the remote, trying to forget the feel of Lacey’s hot little hand wrapped around his cock, pumping away. Jesus, it had been so good, though. Artless but enthusiastic, her grip firm and sure.

  He clicked on the TV, desperate for something to distract him from the throbbing in his cock, which showed no signs of abating anytime soon. Commercial in Spanish, commercial in English, The Weather Channel. He stopped there. They’d planned to go hiking in the El Yunque rain forest later that morning, but if the temperature was going to climb above ninety-five, maybe they’d skip it for a day at the casino. Unless she wanted to go back to the beach.

  His balls grew tight at the memory of her in her bikini bottoms and he groaned. No, not the beach. Someplace else, where she would be entirely clothed. He was cursing the fact that she hadn’t planned to honeymoon in Alaska when the bedroom door swung open again.

  “Hey, everything okay?” he asked as Lacey made her way toward the bed. Something about the look on her face made his heart kick, hard. The determined set of her jaw, the gleam in her eye. His instincts were dead-on. One moment she was at the foot of the bed, the next she was airborne. He dropped the remote on the floor just in time to brace himself as she landed on top of him. Air left his lungs in a whoosh, but before he could refill them, she smashed her mouth into his. Their teeth clacked together hard and she drew back, pressing her fingers to her lips.

  “Sorry. That was stupid. I could’ve chipped your tooth or something.” Twin red flags bloomed on her cheeks. “Did I chip your tooth?” She pried his mouth open with her thumb and forefinger to inspect his intact enamel.

  “My teeth are fine,” he said, hoping he sounded less confused than he felt. What could her lawyer have possibly said that would make her jump his bones like that? He was never one to look gift sexual aggression in the mouth, but these ups and downs were wreaking havoc on his libido. “What’s going on, Lacey?”

  “You don’t know?” She flopped off him and onto her back, draping an arm over her face. “God, I can’t do anything right. I was trying to seduce you.”

  He smiled and rolled to face her. “I knew that part, but why? Not that I’m complaining. I want this. Damn, you have no idea how bad I want this, but not if you’re going to feel guilty about it in a few hours.” He traced her full bottom lip with his thumb, the need to sink his teeth into it almost overwhelming. “Now’s the time to decide, though, because I’m about to make it impossible for you to form a coherent thought.”

  She dropped her arm to her side and turned her head to face him, the interest in his declaration plain on her face. “I want that. Everybody is always telling me what’s best for me, but for the first time, I know what I want. And it’s you.”

  It took everything he had not to lift the floodgates and take what she was offering with both hands and, hopefully, his mouth. But he had one more question, more for her peace of mind than his. “What about your husband?”

  “I don’t have a husband. I have an ex-fiancé. I’m not married,” she whispered. “I never was. The certificate hasn’t been filed yet, so we can tear it up and it’s like it never happened.”

  Adrenaline coursed through him, and his muscles tingled, every nerve ending snapping to attention. She wet her now trembling lips, her nerves clearly getting the better of her.

  He traced the line of her cheekbone with his finger. “That’s great. I’m sure you’re very relieved.” It was a struggle to keep his voice calm, but he needed to pace this right if he wanted it to go down the way he’d imagined. She was ready to dive in, and he was a man on the edge. A couple more clumsy but effective seduction moves out of her and she was going to find herself flat on her back, chock full o’ cock, and he would end up reneging on his promise to blow her mind.