Tropic of Desire

The operator helped her climb out onto the dock and began handing up her baggage.

“Sheridan!”

She turned toward the beach at the sound of her name. A male figure emerged from the shaded cabana and approached the dock, ambling slowly through the fluffy sand. Marc.

She froze in the shock of instant awareness. She’d found him attractive from the moment she’d seen him at her studio in LA—what woman wouldn’t? But not intimidating in any sexual way. His business suits, glasses, carefully groomed hair and simply being in his business “zone” had made him seem aloof. Proper. Non-threatening. That hadn’t stopped her fantasies of him, her growing attachment and longing for more of what they’d shared in her studio, but the terror that began after they met altered her focus.

The tall, tan hottie that drew near resembled anything but the non-threatening, semi-nerdy gentleman she remembered, now that she saw him for the first time in his natural element. With a confident, almost dangerous air about him, his longish gilded bronze hair ruffled about his face in a rare, faint waterfront breeze. His unbuttoned, faded island print shirt revealed a hairless, exquisitely carved torso and abdomen. Worn jeans encased his long, muscular legs, giving only a hint of the leashed masculine power their owner possessed. She’d felt that body pressed against hers, but this was her first opportunity to see him in all his glory. Her knees shook just a bit.

As he stepped up on the dock, she caught herself staring at his bare feet, coated in gray sand. She’d never thought about feet, one way or the other. Never thought them especially attractive, but she did now.

She remembered her manners just in time and clasped the large hand he extended. His grip sure and firm, he looked her in the eye and he saw her. The real her. She could feel a warm glow fill her as though he somehow learned her from the inside out and liked what he found. Sweat trickled down between her breasts and her bra grew constricting. Moisture pooled between her thighs. A blush heated her face.

Ridiculous. She didn’t really know this man, despite their interactions in LA, and he wasn’t likely to be interested in a drab nobody like her for more than a one-time thing, though she could swear she’d seen a flicker of genuine interest on more than one occasion. Brown hair and eyes, average looks, average size, average body, average personality. Such a man wouldn’t take notice of her in that way outside of her imagination. It was just as well. She had her little problem to hide, anyway.

Hmm. Okay, so she wasn’t “average,” she was quite possibly insane, or some kind of bizarre murderous monster. That was even worse. Perspiration beaded on her forehead and moistened her palms as her heart rate increased. She’d fallen for the guy, practically screwed him in LA, and now it was like meeting someone new. Almost.

She’d return to thinking about him in a purely fantasy role. Reality scared her far too much. She zoomed in on the sexy feet again. She had to photograph this man. Head to foot. She could look and fantasize. No more than that.

“I’m glad you made it here safely, Sheridan.” He smiled, warmth radiating from his eyes and in the timbre of his voice. “I’d kiss you hello, but I’d prefer to save that for later in private.”

Sheridan struggled not to melt in a puddle before him. God, she’d missed him. She stared back down at his feet, a pleasant task and far less scary than looking him in the eye. She could already tell those eyes saw far too much. He knew she liked him, though maybe not how much, and he didn’t seem offended, but she’d prefer her privacy. She didn’t want him to know her fears, insecurities, and most especially not the fact that she might be some kind of freak. Unfortunately, he knew at least a bit about those first two items.

“I know it’s been a long trip from LA. We’re off the beaten track.” His comment, uttered in that smooth baritone with the gorgeous enunciation, required a response.

She dragged her gaze back up to his face. Slowly. Attempting nonchalance, she looked back at him and focused on his square chin with a hint of a cleft. She wondered what it would be like to lick that stubbly cleft.

She forced herself to meet his beautiful, intimidating sherry colored gaze. It should be illegal for a man to have eyelashes like that. He almost looked like he wore eyeliner, for heaven’s sake. “Yes, it’s been a long trip, but I’m glad I came. It’s gorgeous here. I’ve never seen any place quite like it.”

Her breath caught at the knowing she saw in the depths of his eyes, the slight quirk of his eyebrow, the satisfied curve of his sensuous, full lips. He knew. He knew the exact effect he had on her and it pleased him. She squirmed in embarrassment as the moment dragged on.

He laughed and the spell broke. He accepted her compliment, pride evident in the ringing tones of his voice. “Yes, St. Lucia is a magical place.” With a sweeping gesture, he looked toward his home before turning back to her. “Since you have traveled the globe to take your wonderful photos, I consider that an even greater compliment. I’m sure you will be happy here.”

Before she could consider that comment, which had an odd air of permanency to it, he smiled, revealing strong, white teeth and an intriguing dimple in his left cheek. How had she failed to notice that? He paid the taxi fare and began to gather up her luggage. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of a hike up to the house.”

She admired his exceptional ass as he led the way down the dock. “Oh, I don’t mind at all.”

ADULT EXCERPT

She smoothed her palms in nervous distraction down the front of the sensuous deep blue silk charmeuse cocktail dress she wore. By far the dressiest and sexiest garment she’d brought, she never thought she’d have the chance to wear it. Tonight seemed the appropriate occasion. Apart from her high-heeled pumps and the diamond drop earrings Marc gave her that afternoon, she wore nothing with or under the dress. It clung in to her, leaving little to the imagination.

Taking a final deep breath, she knocked on the study door.

“Enter.”

She pushed the door open. Once again, he lounged in his chair, nursing a scotch. Her mouth went dry at the look of him. Since Cecily’s departure, he’d taken to dressing down. The jeans and untucked dress shirts he now favored suited him. This shirt even matched the blue of his eyes. She walked into the room, trying for graceful and sexy in the unfamiliar heels. “We never finished our…discussion this afternoon. I want to. Now.”

His mouth dropped open for a moment, and then a look of undisguised sexual want stole across his face. He got up from the chair and came around the desk to where she stood. He reached for her, but she dodged him.

“Not here. There’s a place I’ve found. I want you to go there with me.” She took his hand and led him out the back of the house and across the lawns. Terror had her heart pounding. What if he pulled away? Refused to go? She’d pretend she didn’t know, but she could feel the bond between them growing. He knew her intention, she could see it in the half-angry, half-resigned glint in his gaze, and he still went. She stole a glance at him. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he tensed it, but the gaze he turned upon her burned with desire.

They stopped before the door of the ancient sugar mill. Light from dozens of candles filled the room with a glow like goodness and love. A velvet-covered duvet lay on the floor in a cleared space next to the gears with dozens of pillows covering it. She turned to see his reaction, not letting go of his hand, lest he leave. It broke her heart to see the fear in his gaze. Yet, along with that, desire glowed. “Please, Simon. Come love me.” She trembled with a dizzying mixture of nerves and arousal as she reached up to slip one shoulder strap off. The flare in his eyes encouraged her. She stepped back into the mill. He followed, his gaze intent upon the bodice of her dress as she slipped the other strap down and the dress slid to her waist.

“You are so beautiful.” Simon closed the distance between them and reached out to cup her breasts before he leaned in and kissed her. He tasted of whiskey and Simon and she savored the closeness. She’d never dreamed she’d want to share so much with two men, but the rightness settled with unmistakable surety about her heart.

Finally, he broke the kiss and bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth, licking and suckling with delicate finesse that nearly drove her mad.

“Ahh, Simon.”

Her cries of pleasure fueled his need, and he turned feral, unzipping her dress, almost ripping it in his haste to pull it from her body. He looked his fill, pulling his shirt off, heedless of the popping buttons and quickly stepping out of his jeans. She sank to the duvet, licking her lips at the sight of his beautiful cock rising hard and hot—for her. That, more than anything, drew her belly tight and sent moisture drenching the empty place she so badly wanted him to fill. This wild side of him she’d experienced in the study, affected her with overwhelming intensity, freeing her wanton urges, suppressing her inhibitions, and she wanted more. She held out her arms and he covered her, kissing, licking, sucking his way down her body until that glorious moment when his mouth caressed her pussy. He thrust his tongue inside her with aggressive possession.

“Oh, God. Please, Simon. Please, fuck me.”

He levered himself above her and thrust into her roughly. Penetrating deep. Over and over. Her screams of delight echoed off the ruined stone walls.

He startled her when he rolled her over on top of him, now pulling her down hard on his shaft. The new position stimulated a sensitive spot inside her and her orgasm rolled through her, first as a gentle wave, then an explosive burst of pleasure. He continued to fuck her through the spasms, pulling her down to whisper in her ear, “Marc is here, darling. Just relax.”

“What?” Still disoriented, the sensation of the cool gel applied by a strong masculine finger to her tight anal opening startled her. Simon held her firmly in place, crooning words of love and comfort. Marc spread her legs wider and she felt the tip of his penis just start to push into her delicate entrance. Fear of the unknown simmered just beneath the surface of her consciousness, yet curiosity and visceral longing proved far stronger as the idea of what they would do sent a fresh flood of desire through her. Her nipples hardened and she moaned.