Secret Fantasy(36)
Author: Carly Phillips

He’d never expected such an incredible gift and knew he sure as hell didn’t deserve her openness and giving. He also refused to go all the way alone. As incredible as she made him feel now, he’d much rather be inside her body.

He lifted her to her feet and then into his arms, taking them out of the slippery tub before letting her slide down his body to stand on the floor, slowly, so he could revel in the feel of her softer body against his. Her full br**sts pushed against his chest, her ni**les puckered and peaked.

“What was that about?” she asked.

Eyes glazed, voice husky, she aroused him more. Even the chill didn’t bother him in the least, not when he was so hot for the woman in his arms.

“Leverage.” He backed her to the wall, bracketing her shoulders with his palms. “No way can I do what I want with you in the shower.”

A slow, sexy smile worked its way onto her lips. “Do tell.”

“I’d rather show you.” Bending his head, he kissed her sensually and completely, all the while moving his hips in maddeningly slow circles against her waist. His body strained for completion as he thrust against her over and over again.

She let out a moan, then caught on quick, matching his movements and countering them at the same time. She pressed and pumped her feminine mound against his erection, creating such intense friction with their lower bodies he thought he’d come right then. Her ragged breathing and carnal sounds matched the demanding tide rising inside him.

He paused only to open the medicine cabinet and take care of protection. He’d already discovered even this amenity had been supplied by the resort. Then unable to wait, he grasped her hips, lifting her up, and with deft jockeying of position, he lowered her onto him at last.

She cocooned him in damp, moist heat, sheathed him in slickened tightness. “Sweet heaven.”

She trembled and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. The wall behind her gave him the additional leverage he needed to keep the rocking, gliding motion going. His body, buried deep inside hers, felt full, thick and ready to burst and when her first tremors of climax began, she clenched him tighter in her velvet heat.

The erotic contracting of her muscles brought him up and over the edge, triggering an explosive orgasm. One that engaged not only his body but his mind, his heart and his soul.

JULIETTE LAY in bed with Doug drawing lazy circles with her fingers across his chest. Silence echoed around them but she didn’t feel the need to talk. What they’d just shared spoke for them. Contentedness reigned and she had no desire to change a thing until the ringing of the telephone jarred her, bringing her out of her blissful state.

She grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” she said, and discovered the hotel kitchen was calling to double-check her order and ask when she’d like it delivered. She sighed, knowing reality had just intruded and the time had come to gather her courage and face Doug with her feelings. “Five minutes would be perfect,” she told the man on the other end of the phone.

She hung up and turned back to Doug. “Breakfast,” she explained. “I invited you, remember?”

He rolled over, covering her with his warm weight. “I thought we just ate.” As if to back up his words, he began a steady nibbling on her lips that he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Mmm…” She sighed into him, kissing him back, not ready or willing to break their physical connection just yet. But with room service on the way, she had no choice. With a gentle push, she encouraged him to let her out from beneath him. “I’m sure you can work up that appetite again.”

“I most definitely can.” His hand reached down and cupped her breast.

A languorous wave of pleasure rushed over her. “Room service is coming,” she reminded him, but not easily. “I wanted to surprise you, though that’s impossible now. But give me a few minutes to finish setting up, okay?”

In reality she needed a few minutes alone to gather her thoughts—because over breakfast, she wanted to admit her feelings and see where things stood between them when this week was over. She couldn’t do that if they were lying in a bed that carried the musky scent of their lovemaking or if she let the heat of physical release sway his emotions. She needed both of them thinking clearly.

“No problem.” But his reluctant groan contrasted with his words. “I need to check in at home first anyway.” His deep blue eyes bore into hers. “But we do need to talk over breakfast.”

Something in his voice caused a shiver to take hold and she wrapped her arms tighter around her. “Sounds ominous. But yes, we do need to talk.”

She pulled herself out of bed and wrapped the satin robe around her naked body before starting for the bedroom door.

“Juliette.”

She turned. “Yes?”

“It’s only ominous if you take it that way.”

She inclined her head and let herself out, his cryptic statement ringing in her ears.

Juliette stepped through the living area to the terrace to discover the waiter setting down her order. As if by magic, he’d appeared within minutes of his phone call. She shook her head, amazed by Merrilee and her staff’s efficiency. After placing the order on the table, the waiter left, leaving Juliette in peace.

She poured the drinks and unwrapped the basket of rolls, croissants and Danish, recalling the last time she and Doug had discussed the merits of sweets. Then, they’d exchanged an erotic prelude of things to come. A prelude to this morning, when she’d tasted him more thoroughly than she’d ever imagined, given to him in a way she’d never felt inclined to give to another man. Including her ex-fiancé.

“Hello, Juliette.”

“Stuart!” She thought she’d conjured his voice, but she turned to find herself facing him. Shock and disbelief rippled through her. “What are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling a fantasy, same as you.” He stepped onto the patio, his shiny loafers gleaming in the sun. He wasn’t dressed down as most of the guests; rather, he wore a pleated pair of tan slacks, a designer belt and his usual well-pressed collared shirt.

His staid, conservative dress only made her glaringly aware of her own lack of clothing and she pulled the collar of her robe tight around her throat. “What kind of fantasy would bring you down here?” she asked, certain his visit had nothing to do with fantasy and everything to do with her.

“You remaining silent, of course.” His piercing stare bore into hers. “Not that I told Ms. Schaefer-Weston that.”