Down for the Count (Dare Me 1) Page 8

  He bent low as he flipped the last bit of satin away from the dusky peak. First, a close-mouthed kiss. Then, the flick of his tongue. She stiffened in his arms.

  “Oh my God,” she whimpered.

  She trembled against him, and he closed his lips over her, rubbing his tongue against the sensitive bud until she was muttering incoherently, her fingers digging into his scalp, urging him to keep going. The need to obey her unwitting and sensual command, to make her come until her throat was sore from screaming his name, battered him like the waves from a monsoon. Sweat broke out on his upper lip and he trembled with the effort of restraining himself.

  Then she moaned low in her throat, a wordless plea, and he couldn’t deny her. Just a little more… He trailed his fingers over the thin fabric of her tiny panties, sliding beneath to cup her heat in his hand. She froze, then cried out, the sound echoing against the rocks. He slid his finger into her wet center, and she closed around him like liquid silk. He wasted no time, and began to fuck her with his finger. In and out he slid until she bore down against him, trying to take him deeper. His heart jackhammered against his ribs, and a growl reverberated in his chest. Using the edge of his teeth, he tugged on her nipple and slid his finger deeper.

  “Please, Galen, I—” She whimpered, clutching fistfuls of his hair in her hands.

  Her hips fluttered now, moving counterpoint to his thrusts. His name was a litany on her lips and her body tensed, straining against him. She was close. God, she was so fucking close. And his cock was loaded for bear and he was a suck, fuck, or jerk away from the point of no return.

  The last working part of his brain sent up a warning flare. They should stop. But, damn, she was so ready…

  As if she could hear his thoughts, she froze. “I-I can’t do this. I’m not ready yet.”

  He wanted to howl with disappointment, but he knew she was right. She’d feel guilty if they finished this, regardless of the fact that she had nothing to feel guilty for. And no matter what her body was telling him, he didn’t want to be responsible for her regret. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, slipping her panties back in place and releasing her nipple with a muttered curse. “You’re right. We should get back anyway.”

  Their harsh breaths mingled in the warm night air and she nodded, looking dazed. She blinked up at him and disentangled her hand from his hair. She swallowed hard, her throat working. “I guess we were being rude.”

  He held her gaze and traced his finger over the delicate line of her collarbone and adjusted her bra. “I, for one, couldn’t give a shit about being rude if it meant we could pick up where we stopped, but I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret. This isn’t over, though. Something’s going on here and we’re going to need to figure out what to do about it eventually.” He let his gaze slide down her front to where her nipples still pressed taut against wet satin. “I have several suggestions if you want to hear them.”

  Despite the heat in her eyes at his words, she shook her head vigorously. “Nope. That’s a bad idea.” She scrambled backward and then pitched forward into the water. A moment later she was wading toward the patio in a graceless, splashy breaststroke, a frantic attempt to get some distance from him before calling back over her shoulder. “But feel free to write down those thoughts and share them with me after my—”

  “Look out!”

  His warning came too late as she promptly smacked her head against a decorative stone.

  “Son of a—” she mumbled under her breath. To her credit, she barely paused, navigating around the rock and propelling herself forward with a one-armed crawl. “It’s fine,” she called over her shoulder. “Seriously. All good. Barely nicked me. See you back at the patio.”

  He winced, although part of him was glad to see some proof that she was as affected by what had happened between them as he was. He gave her a minute to collect herself, another so he could do the same, then followed her. He’d just rounded the bend when he saw Lacey standing in the middle of the pool, frozen to the spot with a bare-assed Cyrus next to her, his arm around her shoulder.

  “So,” Nikki said, wading toward Galen. “Did you guys want to do this all together, or are we going our separate ways?” She stood when she reached him, bare breasts bobbing on the surface like buoys.

  Cyrus turned to face them and Galen quickly averted his gaze, but not before he got an eyeful of Cyrus’s one-eyed Willy, locked and loaded for action.

  “We’re down with either one,” Cyrus said with an affable smile. The call of the coquí frogs seemed to grow louder in the heavy silence.

  Galen turned the evidence this way and that, trying to make sense of the scene. But after an endless moment, he knew there was only one plausible explanation.

  Their hip new friends were swingers, and they wanted to do the old swap-around with Lacey and him.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Six

  Blood rushed to Lacey’s ears and her brain froze. Cyrus’s lips were moving, 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 to
wel 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 night’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.