Page 38 of Wrecked With You

It’s intense. Scary even, and yet I already cherish this connection. I already fear what will happen when we leave this island, because I don’t want this to end. I don’t want us to end.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now. Your body flushed, your mouth open. You’re so close to coming, all I want to do is watch you.”

His words tease me in delicious ways. He makes me feel beautiful, and I moan as my body tightens. I feel my pussy clench hard around him as I’ll never let go, as if my body is trying to time it so that we come together, as if it’s absolutely imperative that we do.

“Please,” I beg.

“Please what?”

But I can’t answer that because I don’t know. All I can think of is everything. And as I get closer and closer and closer to that inevitable explosion, he closes his mouth over mine in a kiss that is so wild and hard and possessive that I swear I would orgasm even if he wasn’t inside me, even if he wasn’t playing with my clit, even if this pressure wasn’t building and building. Because he’s fucking with me with his mouth and his cock and I’m about to go over the edge.

And then, oh God, the world explodes, and I arch back, our bodies still connected, my eyes wide open, as I look at the stars and wonder if I really and truly reached them.

* * *

“Wow,” I say as I lay back onto the water, his splayed hands keeping me afloat. “We may have to stay here all night. I’m not sure I can move.”

“If you can’t, I’ll carry you.”

I manage to lift my head enough to see him in the dark. “You really do have stamina.”

He laughs. “For you? I have a never-ending well of energy.”

I make a contented noise that shifts to a startled oh as he gently pulls me closer, then settles me on his lap. The fingers of one hand are twined in my hair, and he pulls me close, kissing me deeply. “I don’t know if it’s you or this island, but I can’t seem to get my fill of you.”

I want to tell him I feel the same, but his words make me feel antsy. As if he’s talking about more than sex. As if this thing between us is real and not just part of a lust-filled island mission.

So I push down what I’m actually feeling and instead brush a kiss over his lips as I whisper, “This evening has been very, very hot and very, very strange.”

“Has it?” He runs his hands up my body to cup my breasts. “I have no interest in sharing you all of the time, but I’ll confess to having a good time. Even if under false pretenses. And I definitely liked the way the evening progressed after Tracy Ann left.”

“Me, too,” I admit.

“And I liked watching you kiss her. You seemed to like it, too.”

I bend forward to whisper in his ear. “I’ll tell you a secret — I like pussy, too. Does that bother you?” I’ve been with guys who were disgusted by the idea of two women together and guys who dreamed of watching, as if the thought of watching me with another woman would be his own personal live-action porn channel. I didn’t think Tony had that voyeuristic bent—he seemed an all-in participant. But we’re both playing a role on this island, and I realize I’m holding my breath, hoping that he’s not freaked out by the fact that I’m bi.

His hands are roaming all over me, as if he can’t get enough of the feel of my skin against his. “So long as you like my equipment as well,” he says, taking my hand and cupping his cock, “I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

He’s slowly stroking, moving my hand up and down beneath the water. “I like it,” I say, my voice heavy with desire all over again, as if I really, truly cannot get my fill of this man.

I whimper, then shift my position, so that instead of straddling both his legs, I’m only straddling one—which means I can grind against his leg in time with the movement of our hands. “I like it very much.”

I hook my free arm around his neck, then bend closer to whisper in his ear, surprising myself when I confess, “I didn’t like you touching another woman.”

“Didn’t you?” The surprise in his voice seems genuine. “It didn’t turn you on?”

“It did,” I admit. “But I still didn’t like it. It’s just that…”

I trail off. I don’t want to voice my jealousy. Jealousy means I’m invested. And I know better than to get invested with a partner on a mission. Or ever, for that matter.

I like Tony. I do. We’re ridiculously compatible in bed. He’s smart. He’s competent. He makes me laugh and God knows he makes me come. But we’re at a sex resort. What’s not to like? It’s not as if we’re going to go back to LA and start playing house.

“Are you going to sign on to work for Stark Security?” I hear myself asking.

He frowns, probably confused by my left turn away from the topic of sex. “I’m thinking about it,” he admits. “I’m focused on taking down The Serpent. Hell, I’ve been focused on that for an eternity. And if—no, when—I do…” He shrugs, then continues, “Well, a lot of stuff I’ve been avoiding or putting off opens up.”

“Like a real job?”