South Beach

Where seduction is the perfect revenge… A Hot in the City Story Ten years ago, Holly Pettit spent one romantic, super-sexy summer with Trey Kennedy. The aftermath of their breakup changed her life, and changed her into a no-holds-barred wild child. Now she’s on vacation—and on a mission to rid herself of his memory, once and for all. She never dreamed she’d return to the Imperial Palms Hotel to find Trey running the place. Nor did she imagine that the very sight of him would reawaken those old, sizzling-hot desires. There’s only one remedy: spend one torrid weekend seducing him with a barrage of naughty sexual skills. Then walk away. That’ll teach him a lesson, and prove to them both she’s not the softhearted girl he once knew. When the time comes, though, she’s not so sure she can break his heart. Not without shattering her own. Warning: Contains sun and sand, umbrella drinks, and ex-lovers reunited— mixed into the perfect, explicit recipe for sex on the beach. No one underage will be served.

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 South Beach Copyright © 2011 by Lacey Alexander ISBN: 978-1-60928-781-8 Edited by Lindsey Faber Cover by Scott Carpenter All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com

South Beach Lacey Alexander

Dedication

For all the readers who have enjoyed the Hot in the City stories as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

Chapter One

It had been ten years since Holly Pettit stood in the lobby of the Imperial Palms Hotel. And as she wheeled her suitcase in through the oversized revolving door, the past came rushing back to her. Through the marble floors and walls, through the long registration desk. Through the glittering chandelier still hanging over the fountain circled by a collection of elegant, curved sofas. Through the art-deco-style palm fronds carved above the desk and into the arched, acoustically perfect ceiling. Even the very smell of the place caught her off guard, drew her in. Wow. She’d expected coming back to be easier than this. She’d expected it to be fun. Instead, she felt as if she’d just taken a slug to the gut. “Oh my God, isn’t this great! It’s just the same!” Holly looked to her best friend from high school, Lori, standing beside her, wide-eyed, as she took it all in. The Imperial Palms was one of South Beach’s largest and grandest art-deco-era hotels, then and now. And she’d expected to feel the way Lori appeared to at the moment—she’d expected to be reliving that first time they’d walked through this same door back when they were two bright-eyed farm girls from Indiana. She and Lori had worked here the summer between their freshman and sophomore years of college at Purdue—it had seemed so daring and adventurous to spend the summer so far away from the small town where they’d both grown up. South Beach had sounded alluring and exotic, and the hotel had been just as historically majestic as in their fantasies.

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So when Lori, now an advertising exec in Orlando, had invited Holly to meet her in Miami for a getaway to their old stomping grounds, it had sounded like a good idea. But maybe being here now, in the flesh, was just a little too real. It was funny how memories worked, how they could steal over you so intensely, how they could even sometimes pull you back in time. And for Lori right now, that was clearly a good thing, a happy thing—she didn’t even notice when Holly failed to reply. But for Holly… Lord, why hadn’t she thought more about this first? After all, she was busy making a new life for herself—she didn’t need to be drawn back into old recollections that had left her broken inside. Strangely, as they moved to the registration desk, she found herself scanning the large lobby and realized she was actually looking for him. As if he would actually be here. As if she would instantly recognize him ten years later, ten years older. As if maybe through some uncanny twist of fate he, too, would have shown up here on vacation this week. That’s the kind of irrational thinking he caused in you for a long time. He messed you up so badly inside. Don’t even waste your thoughts on him—he’s not worth it. And normally, she didn’t think about him—it had probably been a couple of years since he’d crossed her mind. It was just a little more difficult now that she was here, in the very place where their entire summer romance had happened. She’d lost her virginity in this hotel. She’d fallen in love walking the stretch of South Beach that spanned the property. Oh God, it was stupid to have come here. But she supposed she’d thought she was really, truly over him. Over all that had happened. Yet maybe things like that never really went away. You might think they had, but maybe they were just hiding under the surface, waiting for the right opportunity to bubble up again. She stayed silent, in the background, as Lori checked them into an oceanfront room they could only have dreamed of affording when they were eighteen.

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“Can you believe we’re really here again, Holl?” Lori asked as they started away from the wide marble desk toward the elevators. “Not really,” she said. And that was when Lori finally noticed. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy. It’s eighty degrees outside, the sun is shining, and we have three glorious days of South Beach decadence ahead of us. How on earth can you not be happy?” “I guess I’m just remembering some of the stuff that happened while we were here,” she said as the elevator doors closed them into privacy. And then Lori finally caught on, grimacing. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about Trey. And the breakup. I thought you were over that, Holly. And…well, if you want to travel down memory lane here, think about the good parts. You were in love. You discovered the joys of sex. You had the best summer of your life.” Holly could only sigh. There was something horribly sad about knowing the best was behind her, that her happiness in life had peaked so early. And yeah, she should be able to look back on her romance that summer in a happy way, but…she just couldn’t. Still. “You know how deeply it wounded me. It changed…everything.” And that was putting it mildly. At the end of her magical summer, she and Trey had agreed to stay together, to do the long-distance relationship thing, him at Florida State, her back in Indiana. They’d promised road trips and meeting halfway. They’d promised e-mails and phone calls. Which never came. He’d never called, never written. Not once after the morning they’d said goodbye. And her continued attempts at communication had gone completely unanswered. It had been bad enough to lose him, but for him to be so cold and

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unfeeling, to leave her so emotionally abandoned…it still took her breath away to recall. “I was so in love with him, Lori. I wanted to marry him.” “I know. I remember. I was there.” And the truth was that she’d just…never really recovered. In fact, she’d dropped out of school by Christmas that year. And she’d made other drastic, lifealtering moves, too. She’d started hanging out with less reliable friends than Lori. And then she’d taken the money she’d saved all summer waiting tables at the hotel and gone on a trip with one of those friends to Las Vegas—where she’d actually decided to stay. “And you also know that’s when I kind of…lost hope in love and let it change me,” she said now, recounting some of the events of that time to Lori. Even so, after that, life had worked out okay in a lot of ways. She’d managed to get a good job at the corporate offices of a major lingerie retailer, Adrianna, Inc. She’d gotten a nice apartment, made new friends. But she’d also gotten…wild. As in promiscuous. She’d had a lot of sex. With both men and women. And she’d thought she was having fun—hell, she had been having fun. Until one day about a year ago when she’d awakened one morning with the sense that it all suddenly felt…a little empty. And that she wanted more out of life. “I just became someone very different than I ever thought I’d be.” But now she was trying to get back on track. Change her wild ways. Make some improvements in herself. Once upon a time, she’d planned to go to law school, become an attorney. But she’d blown her shot at that when she’d dropped out of college. Now, though, at twenty-eight, she’d just completed a night course to become a paralegal, and though she’d spent many happy years at Adrianna, Inc., she knew it was time to move on.

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Lori had stuck by her—even being so far away—throughout all the changes she’d undergone, and part of the reason for suggesting this trip had been to celebrate the completion of Holly’s paralegal training and her imminent change in career. So it just didn’t seem fair to be thrust back into the emotions that had, in some ways, truly derailed her life. As they stepped into the upscale room, both girls abandoned their suitcases and walked to the wide balcony facing the ocean. And as they looked out on the splendorous stretch of sand that was South Beach, packed with tanning bodies on this sunny spring day, Lori said to her, “Well, you’ve always been you deep down. No matter what, you’re still my sunny, funny, sweet, cheerful Holly.” At which Holly could only shrug. She was known among her friends and colleagues for her sunny disposition, but at the moment she felt like a downer. “And right now,” Lori said, “you’re making all these good changes, so I’m thinking you should use your time here to make another one. Make new memories here and forget the old. Find a way to move on from what happened after that summer, once and for all.” Holly took in Lori’s advice and let it settle inside her, finally deciding her friend was right—she needed to be tougher about this. Besides, she’d flown all this way and was spending a healthy chunk of her savings on this trip, so she had to enjoy it. “You’re right,” she finally said. “You’re completely, absolutely right.” “Come on,” Lori said, “let’s get into our bikinis, hit the pool, and find a couple of hot guys to make those new memories with.” Yet, at this, Holly flinched. “I’m up for the bikini and the pool, but no guy this time around. No more casual sex for me, girlfriend. I just want some innocent fun in the sun here—you can keep all the guys for yourself.”

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Fifteen minutes later, Holly and Lori exited the hotel’s back door to the pool area, a place rich with wicker lounge chairs, palm trees, and a plethora of lush, potted plants. After picking out a couple of chairs in the sun, they put on sunscreen, ordered a couple of umbrella drinks from a college-age waitress doing the same job they’d done ten years ago, and lay back to relax. As Holly flipped through a magazine she’d picked up especially for poolside browsing, she could see from her peripheral vision that Lori was already checking out guys. And if Holly were in a different place in her life, if she hadn’t ended up going down such a surprisingly wanton road over the past years, it would be fun to guy-watch and flirt along with her friend. But as it was, she just kept her eyes on her magazine, taking in the latest celebrity fashions. Until a deep male voice said, “Enjoying your stay at the Imperial Palms, ladies?” She caught the sight of linen trousers next to her, and realized this was someone who worked here, making the rounds to ensure the guests’ needs were being met. “We just arrived,” she said, lifting her gaze, “but so far, everything’s wonderful.” And that was when she found herself looking into the eyes of Trey Kennedy, the guy she’d fallen in love with here when she was eighteen years old, the guy who’d broken her heart. Only he was all grown up now and more handsome than ever. Looked like she was able to recognize him after all.

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Chapter Two

Their eyes met, held. Holly couldn't remember a time in her life when she'd ever been more dumbfounded, completely transfixed. Except maybe the first moment she'd met him all those years ago. It had been love at first sight—or at least as close as you could really come to such a thing. The slow dawn of recognition shone in his warm brown gaze. “Holly?” he said, and perhaps stupidly, it pleased her that he’d recognized her that quickly, too, all things considered. After all, he’d once seen fit to dump her without even bothering to let her know. And in that instant, an unexpected defense mechanism rose within her—past all the freshly resurrected pain and heartache she'd been suffering since arriving here. It was the need to look unaffected by their past, the need to be cool, confident, together. It was the need to make sure he knew her life had turned out just fine. Better than fine. She tilted her head to the side, and despite the intense gaze they'd been sharing, tried to appear uncertain. “Trey? Trey Kennedy?” He looked a little shell-shocked and she knew he was remembering what she was trying to forget—the way he'd ended things. Or hadn't officially ever ended things. But then he managed a grin—as his eyes quickly ran the length of her bikini-clad body before coming back to her face. “Wow, I can't believe it's you. You look great!” She pasted on her brightest smile. “Thanks. You, too.” Then she glanced around in wonderment. “But I can't believe you're still here, after all these

South Beach

years.” Yes, he'd gone to school only a few hours away, and he'd even been interested in a career in the hotel industry, but still… “Yeah, turned out I came back to work at the Palms every summer ’til I graduated. Then they offered me a job in management and I've been here ever since.” She nodded, remembering how he'd seemed almost as if he'd belonged here with his blond, tan good looks. His hair had darkened slightly now, to a sandy color, but even in his suit, he still fit the sexy beach boy image to a tee. And then it hit her—a question, a terrible question. What if he was married? She let her eyes drop just for a second, just long enough to seek out a ring. There wasn't one. Still, that was no guarantee. Some men didn’t wear rings. And he could just as easily be in some other sort of serious relationship. Not that she knew why she even cared. “So what about you?” he asked then. He seemed to be relaxing a little now, probably getting used to the idea that she was sitting there right in front of him. And maybe he was relieved she didn't seem angry, that she was making it so easy for him. And yet she'd seen no other way. To act as angry and hurt as she still was, ten years later, would seem…well, like someone who'd never moved on. And even if she hadn't done a great job of that, she was in the process of moving on now anyway. He gave his head a speculative tilt as he asked, “Are you a big shot attorney somewhere?” Inside, she cringed but never let her reaction show on her face. “Life took some different turns than I expected,” she replied with full confidence, even adding a small laugh. “I ended up in the corporate world. In Vegas.” She enjoyed watching his eyebrows shoot up. “Vegas? Really?” She knew what he was thinking, that she hadn't seemed like a Vegas sort of girl. And she hadn't been…then.

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“Yeah, I love it there,” she told him. “Though I'm heading toward a career change now, probably something more related to law—my first love, so to speak.” “What can I say, Holly? I'm impressed.” And he looked sincerely impressed, just as she’d hoped. She tried not to wonder how impressed he wouldn't be if he knew the whole truth behind everything she'd just told him. But she didn't have to wonder for long, fortunately, since that was when Lori, lying next to her, finally piped up. “Hi, Trey,” she said. “Remember me?” He squinted slightly. “Of course,” he replied. “Holly's friend, L…” “Lori,” she said on a laugh. “But I'll forgive you. It's been a long time.” “Yeah, it has,” he answered, chuckling. “And now it's suddenly like a big reunion. I can't believe you guys are here.” “Lori talked me into a few days on the beach,” Holly told him, “and suggested we revisit our old haunt. But…” She stopped, shook her head, still reeling over the chance encounter. “I never dreamed you'd be here.” Oh, crap. That sounded too…emotional or something. And she was in the midst of mentally kicking herself when he said, “Have dinner with me.” And it nearly took her breath away. Apparently she hadn't sounded too emotional. Or if she had, he didn’t mind. But then, right as she was one heartbeat away from being swept up in his invitation, she remembered. Everything. The breakup. The way it had changed her life. The way it had changed…her soul. That he wasn't a guy she could ever trust or should want anything to do with. Except…somehow just turning him down seemed…too easy. Too easy on him. So she heard herself saying, “Lori and I already have dinner plans. Let's make it a late drink instead.”

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In response, he angled his head and gave a slight nod. “Late drinks it is.” Then he suggested a time and one of the hotel's outdoor bars. “I'll see you then.” And before walking away, he added, “It really is great to see you again, Holly.” But she didn't say, “You, too.” Instead she just smiled. Confident, cool woman that she was. Or was pretending to be anyway. And it was only after she and Lori silently watched him stride all the way around the pool and back into the Imperial Palms that Lori finally said, “What was that?” Holly didn’t need to ask what she meant. “That was me being cool and successful and not shocked to see him.” “Yeah, that part I got,” Lori replied. “But…late drinks? What the hell are you thinking?” And the truth was, Holly hadn't exactly had a plan when she'd made a date with him. But now, now that he was gone and she could relax and get a little clarity, she understood why she'd done it; she knew exactly what she intended to do. “I'm going to seduce him,” she said. She watched as Lori's mouth dropped open. “What?” “I'm going to show him what he's missing out on. I'm going to give him the best night of his life—sexually speaking anyway—and then I'm just going to turn around and walk away.” She’d never heard her best friend’s voice sound so dry and skeptical as when she said, “And you think you can do that. Just turn around and walk away.” Yet Holly answered with a confident nod, and this one was for real. “I've had a lot of sex with a lot of people now, Lori. And though I'm not always proud of the reasons I did those things, I know how to have really naughty fun with a guy now without getting emotionally attached. So yeah, I can just turn around and walk away.”

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“And you expect me to believe that you're going to do this for the sole purpose of showing him what he's missing?” “I expect you to believe it,” she said cheerfully, “because it's true. I see it like this. Things happen for a reason. And if Trey Kennedy has come back into my life right at the precise moment I'm finally picking up the pieces and moving on…well, then this is like the last piece to pick up. It’ll make the catharsis complete. Last time, he broke me. This time, he'll see the strong, in-control woman I've become and know that I'm not clingy, in-love, breakable little Holly anymore. And with any luck, maybe I'll even manage to leave him with a little heartbreak.” Holly certainly hadn’t come here with catharsis on her mind. Or what probably also amounted to revenge. But she wouldn’t mind leaving with it. This little trip back to South Beach had just gotten a lot more interesting.

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Chapter Three

Trey Kennedy sat at the posh outdoor bar watching couples at tables in the dark lean their heads together over tea-light candles to talk privately. There’d been debate at the hotel over whether the place should be better lit, but Trey had pushed for letting the sunset decide when it got dark. There was something sexy and sultry about the fall of darkness over a beach, over the night itself—when it came to romance, or a possible sexual liaison, the coming of true night was the time that decided if you were in or out; it was a time to say goodnight or to…lean a little closer, talk a little quieter. As he sipped on a rum runner, he remembered the first time he’d ever laid eyes on Holly Pettit. She’d been as natural and homegrown as the cornfields she’d come from, but as cute and vibrant as any girl he’d ever met. “Kennedy?” she’d repeated when he’d introduced himself. “Are you related to the dead president?” He’d just laughed and told her no, he wasn’t that type of Kennedy. “What type of Kennedy are you?” she’d asked. “The type you’re gonna go for a walk on the beach with tonight,” he’d said as smoothly as a slightly drunk college boy could. And a romance had been born. More than just a romance, though—it had been love, no two ways about it. And in the end, he’d been a coward and he’d spent a long time wondering if he’d made the right call. At the moment, he was thinking no.

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Just then, she entered the bar area—even as dimly lit as it was, he knew it was her. Her blond hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves and her petite body filled out the sexy, silky, pink-and-gold dress she wore just right. Cut low, it provided more cleavage than he ever remembered Holly showing back when they were kids, and a split in the front revealed plenty of thigh, too. Then again, the bikini she’d worn today had been the same way—fire-engine red, skimpy, bold, sexy as hell. He guessed his first love had grown up. And he couldn’t deny that he liked the adult her so far. In fact, he was downright turned on by her, merely on sight. “You look like a sunset,” he said to get her attention as she drew nearer, in case she hadn’t spotted him in the dark. But he wondered if the rum in his drink had brought out the cheesy line. That was when he realized she was headed straight for him, and he was relieved to see his comment had made her smile. “Trey Kennedy,” she said. “I still can’t believe it.” As she smoothly lifted herself onto a bar stool next to his, he reached out, taking her hand to help balance her. It was the first time they’d touched—and damn, he was surprised to find that even after ten years that hot spark was still there. He felt the touch in his cock, which instantly began growing harder. All for this brand new, grown-up version of his sweet little Holly. “You couldn’t be more surprised than I am,” he told her, not bothering to weigh his words. That wasn’t an MO—honesty and just being himself had always worked well for him with the opposite sex. “I mean, I’ve watched countless thousands of people come in and out of this hotel over the years—so many that I almost don’t even really see them anymore. So when I was doing the hospitality thing on the pool deck today, it just never occurred to me that I’d find the first girl I ever loved sitting there looking like a centerfold in her bikini.”

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When she paused for a beat before answering, he wished that he’d had some damn lighting installed out here after all—he wished he could see her face, read her expression. But he couldn’t. “A centerfold? I thought centerfolds didn’t usually bother with old-fashioned things like bikinis. Which is how they get to be centerfolds in the first place.” He laughed, because she was still cute and perky, even if in a much more adult way than he recalled. Then he caught the shadowy movement as she crossed one leg over the other, her knee slipping out of her dress, same as when she walked. Since they faced each other next to the bar and he sat casually, the move placed her knee subtly between his. And as she slid her palm smoothly out over the flesh she’d just bared, his dick stiffened further. If it hadn’t been so dark, she’d have been able to tell. He was that hard. That fast. Damn. “What can Danny get you to drink?” he asked, motioning vaguely toward the bartender who lingered at the other end of the otherwise empty bar, seeming to have sensed he should stay away until summoned. “Um, sex on the beach?” It rolled so smoothly off her tongue that it almost made him laugh. But not quite. Instead, it just intensified his hard-on. “That’s a strong drink, Holly,” he warned her with a grin. “I can take care of myself, Trey,” she answered, returning the playful smile. “I’ll bet you can,” he told her. “I’ll just bet you can.” Then he summoned Danny and placed her drink order, after which he took another sip of his rum runner. He needed a drink suddenly. “So tell me about your life,” he said. She tilted her head, still smiling. “Didn’t I do that earlier?” “No details,” he pointed out. “I’m looking for details.” “What kind?” she asked.

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“I’m not sure exactly, but…you seem different, and I guess I’m intrigued, wanting to know what makes Holly Pettit tick these days.” Just then, Danny placed her sex on the beach on a napkin in front of her and she leaned down to take a sip. “It’s been ten years, Trey. I’m not the same little girl you knew back then.” “That much is clear to me already. But if you’re not her, then…who are you? And how did you get to be her?” “Let’s just say I’m a more…evolved version of the person I was when you knew me. Las Vegas is a good place for…discovering sides of yourself you didn’t know about.” “You’re a lot more confident, that’s for sure,” he told her. “And a lot more…outwardly sexy. I like this side of you.” “There are other sides you might like, too,” she said, bending over to close her lips provocatively around her straw. Not that the mere act of seeing her drink through a straw should add to his arousal. And not that he could really see her doing it all that well anyway, given the lighting. But it still turned him on a little more. And on top of all that, his drink was definitely getting to him. Making him…uninhibited. “What sides?” “Be patient and maybe you’ll find out.” Damn, this was Holly? His Holly? Once upon a time it had been her innocence that had lured him—now it was the opposite. The simple fact that she was capable of the opposite. “So tell me about you, Trey. Tell me about the last ten years of your life.” He didn’t mind being an open book for her. Hell, he probably owed her some openness. Not that she seemed to even remember the shitty way he’d let things

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end between them, and he was grateful for that. But had their relationship meant so little to her? “What do you want to know, fishie?” Something in Holly’s throat caught at hearing the silly old nickname. “Because there are a lot of fish in the sea, but you’re my fish,” he’d told her the first time he’d called her that. Still, she managed a laugh. “I’d almost forgotten about that.” Almost being the key word. But it would take more than a cute pet name to knock her off her game. He chuckled softly. “Yeah—me, too. Just slipped out.” He smiled at her then, and even though she could barely see him in the darkness, she began to remember. How sweet he could be. How genuine. It was a gift to never put on airs, never wear a mask, and it was one Trey had possessed and which had drawn her to him back in the day. “Now, what do you want to know? Ask me anything.” He was getting a little drunk and she liked it. But not because it makes him even more honest and cute and endearing—only because it will make it easier to get my way here. “Loves, losses, triumphs, defeats—that sort of thing,” she said easily. And again he laughed. And began to tell her about the part of his life she’d missed. When he spoke of his career here, he beamed with pride, and despite herself, she couldn’t help being glad things had worked out for him. Except then she realized how much simpler, how much more according to plan, his adult life had gone compared to hers, and it reminded her that she wasn’t really here to catch up with him—she was here to finally conquer him, and then rid herself of him once and for all. And…why did it sting a little when he told her about the other two women he’d cared for deeply after her. Tiffany—who’d just ultimately wanted other

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things out of life than he did. And Mariah—who hadn’t felt the same about him as he had for her. But I bet you had normal breakups with them—I bet you didn’t just disappear from their lives or vice versa. You cared enough about them to be a man about it. And then the sting crystallized into something more satisfying: a little bit of old, leftover anger tinged with some determination. He talked more. About his family, some of whom she’d even met when they’d come for a visit that summer. About his dog, a black lab named Rex. About his house, which he described as a nice little bungalow situated on one of the intercoastal waterways that laced the Florida shores. The truth was, if she’d just met him here on vacation, if she’d had no past with him, she would have…liked him. Maybe even a lot. But life wasn’t that simple. Her life wasn’t that simple, and part of that was his fault. And in reality, she wasn’t trying to do anything too horrible to him here. She wanted to seduce him, for heaven’s sake—she wanted to fuck him. And he would love it. So there was nothing to feel even remotely guilty about, nothing to do but proceed with her plan. “Now you, fishie,” he finally said. “Tell me all the personal stuff about you that I just told you about me.” Their glasses were empty now and they’d both opted not to have a second. And she certainly felt the alcohol she’d taken into her system, but fortunately, she’d grown to be as skilled at drinking as she was in bed, so she still had command of the situation. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” she replied. He drew back slightly, slanted her a teasing grin. “You trying to put the moves on me, fishie?” Her smile stayed confident, in control. “What if I am?” “Then I’m flattered.” “Then let’s walk.” And with that, she reached out and took his hand.

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Like before, when he’d helped her up onto her stool, the touch was electric— she hadn’t expected it then and she hadn’t expected it now. But the sensations skittered up her arm and down into her breasts, turning her nipples hard. And the spot between her legs spasmed slightly at the full realization of what she was preparing to do. They left their shoes at the edge of the bar’s patio, sinking their feet down into cool evening sand. For the first time—maybe it had taken her eyes this long to adjust, or maybe it was the moonlight beginning to illuminate the beach—she noticed that he’d dressed much more casually than this afternoon, in khaki shorts and a more-stylish-than-silly tropical shirt. And that he looked good. He’d looked good this afternoon, and he looked just as good now, and having sex with him again wasn’t going to be a sacrifice. Feeling powerful and more aggressive than she usually did in her everyday life, she pulled him across the wide beach and down toward the water. Compared to the daytime hours when this stretch of sand was packed with sun worshippers of every ilk—from topless girls to happy families—the beach was quiet, though dotted with other late-night walkers, too. “Okay, you’re up. Start talking,” he said as they strolled hand in hand along the shore, warm Atlantic waters washing over their toes with every surge of the tide. “I want to know exactly how my little corn-fed farm girl became this bold, sexy, take-charge woman.” Holly took a deep breath and considered how best to reply. The truth was, maybe a little liquor plus old memories—added on to Trey’s likable openness— made her want to be open, too. And real. Even if she didn’t come right out and blame it on him, she could tell him the truth about her life—that she’d gotten off the path she’d intended to take. That she’d sought refuge in wild times, wild people.

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But…wait, no. That only made her sound vulnerable, like a woman with regrets. And she couldn’t risk him even wondering if he was the reason why. Stick to the plan. “I guess somewhere along the way I just decided to try a different sort of life than I’d always thought I wanted. You only live once, after all.” “And…” he prodded her. “And…I moved to Vegas and made a lot of new friends. Did a lot of new things. I guess that builds a girl’s confidence.” Yeah, just leave it at that. But he wasn’t buying. “That’s all I get, Holly? Come on, that’s not fair.” “That’s all there is,” she insisted. That was when he stopped walking, the move drawing her to a halt as well, and turned to face her in the dark. He still held her hand and now gripped it tighter, squeezing. “What are you about? What makes you happy? What do you love, baby?” God, such deep questions. Holly thought about the many answers she could give. I love my family. I love my friends—the oldest ones the best. I love cats, old Frank Sinatra records, warm nights, and…possibility. I love the way it feels when possibility stretches before you in some moments, like anything could happen, like your dreams could be only a heartbeat away. But why on earth would she ever, ever let herself be that vulnerable with him? What on earth was there to gain? No, she had to stay tough here. Hollyfrom-Indiana was only a distant memory; newer, bolder, Las Vegas Holly was in charge tonight. So it seemed like a good time to move past all the catching up and just cut to the chase. “I love sex, Trey. I love sex like I love nothing else in life. And I’m damn good at it, too. And if we were the only people on this beach right now, I’d drop to my knees and give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.”

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Chapter Four

“Jesus,” he murmured. And she said, “No, it’s only me.” Which made him let out a short, stunned laugh—even as her pussy went warm in her panties at the realization that she really wanted this, really wanted to seduce him. Not just for the power, but for the pleasure, too. She’d never imagined she’d get the opportunity to be with Trey again, and now, here it was before her on a proverbial silver platter. And he looked good enough to eat. He must have been able to read the lust on her face because that was when his expression changed as well, fading to something more intense, aroused. She was thankful that the nearly full moon now shone like a spotlight on her old lover, illuminating what had been shrouded by darkness at the bar: his warm eyes, his handsome face, his athletic, leanly muscled frame—and the depth of her desire. Should that make me nervous? Really wanting him? But no, it shouldn’t—didn’t. You can want him and still have your way with him. The wanting would just make the whole experience better. “Where can we go?” she asked, breathless. She was that sure now, that confident, that he would be into this, too, despite the fact that they hadn’t even kissed. Looking a little feral in response, he answered simply by taking her hand and leading her back up the beach toward the hotel.

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Fortunately, they hadn’t gotten very far. As he pulled her up into the softer sand untouched by the ebb and flow of waves, she murmured, “Where are we going?” She had no idea—to a guestroom in the hotel? A pool house of some sort? Though she couldn’t even remember if the Imperial Palms had such a place. Her mind spun with the anticipation of being alone with him; her breasts swelled with need and her inner thighs ached. And for a moment, as her bare toes sank into the cool, brown South Beach sand, she let herself simply feel…the fun knowledge that she was about to let herself go, let herself have some fabulous sex with the man she now ran with toward the grand, art deco hotel. She let herself quit thinking, quit plotting—she let herself just be. Yes, she’d been trying to change her wild ways, but at the moment, she was glad she’d let her guard down when Trey had come along. He led her to a small row of white canopied tents high on the beach, near the pool area. Inside each rested four cushioned lounge chairs. Trey jogged past them, still tugging her along, until he reached the last—and that was the one he pulled her beneath. They could still be seen here if anyone passed close by, but it was much more privacy than they’d had on the open sand or down by the water. It surprised her a little when Trey then grabbed her, kissed her, passionately. She’d been the aggressive one so far, after all. But Lord, he still kissed good—and she remembered these kisses, she remembered them far more than she’d expected. They swept her back, in a single heartbeat, to that sweet, wild eighteenth summer on this very beach. Some things never changed, she guessed—and the way a guy kissed could be one of them. She sank into it, pressing her palms against his firm chest, and when their hips came together…mmm, God, he was rock hard. She had to stop kissing, bite her lower lip, let out a breath. This…this felt too good, too fast. This

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wasn’t…normal lust. But don’t be afraid. You can handle it. You can handle anything. Just be the woman you’ve been with him so far—tough, ready…emotionless. And then she remembered what she’d told him she’d do if they were alone. And even if putting herself in a subservient position right now might not sound like the wisest move…well, to go down on him, this fast, would show him exactly how bold she was, and remind him of the strong, sturdy chick she’d become. “Take your shirt off,” she said, voice soft but demanding. And as he removed it over his head, she didn’t hesitate to reach between them and unbuckle his belt, then undo the button on his shorts, then the zipper. The khaki shorts fell to the beach. And a brisk pull made the silk boxers underneath follow. God, his cock was gorgeous, standing perfectly rigid and tall, ready for action. Don’t think about the fact that it was your first. That doesn’t matter. No, all that mattered was pleasuring them both. As she dropped to her knees in the sand, she curled her hand around the thick erection before her, squeezing, kneading light but firm, getting to know it again. It really is like the first time. Except you’re a different person now, so it doesn’t matter. Yeah, go with that last thought. Then she leaned in and gently licked a drop of pre-come from the head. Mmm… She heard him suck in his breath and felt her stomach contract. She wanted more, more of him inside her. After an instinctive swirl of her tongue around the tip, she smoothly sank her lips over his length, taking him comfortably deep, loving the sensation of letting her mouth fill with him. Her pussy wept with hunger—yet also with the knowledge that its time would come and for now, this was what she wanted to be doing. “Aw Holly, Holly baby—God, that’s good.”

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Better than when she’d done it the last time, she’d bet. She’d been so new at it then. Now she worked her mouth expertly up and down the solid column of flesh as she massaged its base in her fist. She closed her eyes and got lost in the giving—and in what it gave her in return. She felt ravenous and powerful. “Look at me,” he told her—and so she acquiesced, opening her eyes to gaze up at him, knowing how obscenely sexual a woman appeared this way, and at the moment not quite able to decide if it gave her more power or if it somehow took it away. She’d never wondered before—but now, suddenly, she did. Only she didn’t wonder for long, because peering into Trey’s eyes reminded her once more where she was, who she was with, that this was not some typical one-night stand. She’d thought it would be casual sex, but…how could it be? Don’t think. Just don’t think. Just do. Just fuck him. Fuck him like you’ve fucked every other lover you’ve ever had, guy or girl. Fuck him because it feels good. To your body, your flesh. It doesn’t have to go any deeper. Deciding it was time to get off her knees, she pulled Trey’s perfect dick from her mouth and pushed to her feet. Time to take control here—real control. So she braced her hands on his forearms and began to move him backward toward the nearest chair. “Lie down,” she commanded. “When did you get so bossy?” he asked, seeming half-amused but also sincerely curious as he plopped back in the chaise. “When I grew up,” she answered shortly, tired of all his questions about the changes in her. The whys were none of his business—she just wanted him to see and respect the difference. “I think I like it,” he began, “but…” And as she straddled him on the lounge, and his hands closed over her hips to pull her down onto him, she said, “Trey, you do like it. You will like it. Now shut up.” She didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t let him turn this any

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more real, any less casual, than it already was. It was only sex and she had to keep it that way, once and for all. The look in his eyes changed then and she felt him finally taking her in, all of her, the her who didn’t plan to get emotional here, the her who only wanted to fuck him and nothing more. “Fine,” he bit off, arms still wrapped around her, and then he began kissing her again, just as hard and passionate as before. Good. No more words, no more talking. But damn—again, the kissing took her back. And she couldn’t help but let herself get caught up in it a little—it felt too good not to bask in her reaction to it. Still, the moment she heard a soft purr of pleasure echo from her throat against his lips, she knew it was time to move things along. She pressed her crotch against his erection and rubbed. Even through her panties…mmm, intense pleasure beckoned. And then his hands were exploring her body through her dress—her breasts, her ass; reaching farther around, he began to stroke between her legs. She moaned into his mouth again, unable not to. And then his hands were under her dress and he was kneading her ass firmly in both hands as they made out, and she was touching his face, the rough stubble on his jaw, as her tongue twined around his in the most delicious kiss she could remember in a very long time. She heard her own ragged breath as, together, they struggled to remove her panties—finally, she had to stretch her body out alongside his to push them past her knees and kick them off. But she quickly resumed her on-top position—that was where she needed to be with him. Neither said a word as she balanced, straddling him, then took his hard-on back in hand, lifting it upright until the head nudged at the opening where she knew she was warm and wet. And then she remembered. Oh God. “Condom,” she muttered.

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“Christ,” he whispered. “In my shorts.” Even as she reached hurriedly down alongside the chair, digging in his back pocket for a wallet, it niggled to know she’d been so close to being flesh-to-flesh with him and that now they would put a layer in between. But she didn’t let herself examine why it bothered her so much—she simply tossed him the wallet and said, “Find it.” A moment later, she was snatching the square piece of foil from his hand, ripping into it, extracting the thin rubber disc inside. Easing back, she carefully but quickly rolled it on. “Now,” she breathed. “Finally.” And within seconds she was sinking her pussy down onto him, taking his amazingly hard shaft inside her, sighing with pleasure as he filled her. One inexorable fact of her life was that no matter how many times she had sex, or with how many men, that initial entry always rocked her world. There was nothing else like it—it made her shut her eyes, bite her lip, spend a moment basking in the lascivious pleasure of utter fullness that only a woman who loved sex could know. But then Trey began to pump up into her, which made her open her eyes, drew her back to exactly where she was. She braced her hands on his stomach as she began to ride him, fuck him. Her body urged her to undulate in slow, rhythmic circles on him—but her brain told her not to get that lost in the experience, so instead she met his upward thrusts, powering her body down onto his, letting a rougher pleasure dominate her. His low groans were like fuel that pushed her onward, had her sliding up and down his length until she was bouncing, coming down firmly each time, fucking him as hard as possible in this position. They moved together that way until she was nearly overcome by exhaustion and had to stop—and she leaned over to rest against his chest without thinking

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about it. That was when she found herself kissing him there, running her fingertips down his stomach, turning his breath thready. And then, suddenly, there was no more fight in her. No more reasoning. Only the realization that she was trying way too hard to keep this from feeling too good—and that she no longer possessed the power to keep her instincts from taking over. “I want to make you come, baby,” he rasped as a warm sea breeze wafted over them. She said nothing in reply, only knew that she wanted that now, too. As she resumed moving on him, the primal instincts of her body taking over, she found herself wishing she were naked like him, naked and natural and free on the beach, like when they were young. And yet it was wiser to keep her dress on given where they were, and the knowledge reminded her they were doing something forbidden, fucking where anyone could come upon them at any time, and that was exciting in a whole different way. Still, she reached down and pulled up the skirt of her dress, lifted it to her waist in front, so that both of them could see where their bodies connected. Languid sighs of pleasure left her as she gyrated on him in a hot, slow grind. His hands molded her ass now, stimulating her further, and she no longer even tried to resist peering into his eyes. It was harder to see here beneath the tent than it had been out in the moonlight, but she still found his eyes sparkling on her with dark lust. “Ride me, Holly,” he told her. “Fuck me with that hot little pussy.” The words fueled her. There hadn’t been much dirty talk when they were young, but she liked knowing that apparently they’d both changed in certain ways.

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Soon, though, her eyes were dropping shut and her head falling back, and the pleasure mounted, climbing higher, higher—until the orgasm came breaking over her like an ocean wave. She started to cry out, then bit her lip trying to be quiet even as the surging pulses swept through her with wild disregard for where she was. The climax was amazing and intense, longer than most, somehow better than most. But she chose not to examine that last part too closely, not to ask herself why. “Oh God,” she breathed, leaning over on him again, feeling the warmth of his arms closing around her, the warmth of…shared pleasure, intimacy. And one last small urge to fight her emotions rose within her, but she was just too tired now. Quit. Give in to it. Just for a little while. It doesn’t mean anything. You’ll get your control back when you need it. You will. Only…would she? Really? As emotion raced through her, just as potent as the orgasm she’d just experienced, she began to fear she’d made a very big mistake by fucking Trey Kennedy.

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Chapter Five

“Kiss me, Holly,” he said deeply, and she didn’t hesitate to lift her head from where it rested on his chest and deliver a warm, deep tongue kiss that she felt all the way to her toes. “God, that was good,” she murmured breathlessly. And yet she’d chosen her words deliberately. Not you were good, but that was good. Because she didn’t want to panic. This didn’t have to be a mistake. As long as she maintained some boundaries here, she could keep it all under control; she could still make this what she wanted it to be. And what was that again? Her head swam from all she’d just experienced— was still experiencing. Catharsis—you want catharsis. Oh yeah, that was it. You want to get him out of your system once and for all by fucking him and being done with it. You want to show him how strong and resilient you are. And you want to make sure he knows he was an idiot to ever let you go. And okay, at the moment that was beginning to seem like a bit of a tall order, but as she snuggled against him, she worked very hard to come back to herself, to center herself, to remember that she was strong and resilient. He’d made her that way. And she did think he was an idiot—any man would be lucky to have her, then and now. And, well, as for the sense of…getting caught up in it, feeling it too much— all she could do was roll with it. Roll with it and have faith that afterward she’d still be her tough, sturdy self.

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“Wanna make it even better,” he said then, voice deep as the night and brimming with masculine arrogance. You can’t improve upon perfection. She kept that thought to herself, though— yes, it was good to have a little control back—and simply said, “How?” His eyes narrowed with naughty intent. “How about instead of telling you, I just show you.” Then he placed his hands back on her ass to raise her up off his erection. She didn’t necessarily want to go—she loved the way he filled her—but he didn’t give her a choice. And she felt immediately empty when his cock left her, even letting out a small gasp of disappointment. But Trey didn’t seem to notice, didn’t react at all—instead he lifted her rear higher still, until she was upright on her knees, and then he was pressing her toward him where he sat in the chair, only partially reclined. Finally he murmured, “Hold your dress up again, over your cunt.” She sucked in her breath at the demand, then did as he said. It put her pussy on display only a few inches from his face. And even though she’d only come a couple of minutes earlier, it pulsed like crazy again already. At being so closely examined by him. And because she knew what was coming. That was when he used his palms on her ass to pull her even closer, pressing her mound to his mouth for a deep, intimate tongue kiss. She couldn’t hold in the hot cry that escaped her as the pleasure shot through her, permeating her senses. “Oh! Oh God,” she whispered—but then as he continued licking her, nibbling at her, she adjusted and sank into it, finding a rhythm against his mouth. She’d had a lot of sex, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever gone flying this headlong straight back into such overwhelming delights this quickly after orgasm. And yet, even when she hadn’t been ready for more pleasure, there it was, assaulting her. As quickly as it began, she felt powerless against it, her body

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moving of its own accord—she couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to. And although she knew he was the one eating her, she couldn’t help thinking it was all too delicious. A startlingly short time had passed before she knew she was going to come again. So short that she wondered if she’d ever had two orgasms so very closely together before. And no sooner had the thought struck her than the climax was upon her, taking her over, jolting her pelvis against his face, rough and jagged as it zigzagged through her like an out-of-control pinball. “Unh! Unh!” She heard the noises leave her and couldn’t have contained them if her life had depended upon it. Forced to release her skirt and take hold of the back of the chair with one hand, she didn’t know if she’d ever felt anything like this in her life. Even longer than the first, by the time the orgasm passed, she thought she might collapse at any second. Thankfully, Trey chose just that moment to let go of her ass and let her slide back down his body. She landed straddling his hips once more and felt his lovely cock—still hard as a marble pillar—jut firmly into the valley of her ass. Her eyes met Trey’s in the dark, just briefly, before she leaned forward, letting her forehead come to rest against his. She couldn’t help it—she was lightheaded from all the sensations that had just racked her body. She could smell her sex on his face. And then it hit her how…aggressive she’d become during that last part, how her body had driven her. “Did…did I hurt you?” Why do you even care? “Nope,” he assured her. “I loved every second of it. You?” “How could I not?” she asked. Damn it. Quit being so honest. They rested that way a minute, silent, no words needed—until Trey suddenly said, “Stand up.” “Huh?” she whispered, surprised.

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“On your feet, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” Trey couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so wrapped up in sex, the last time something had felt so perfect—so wild and yet simply so right at the same time. And now his animal instincts were guiding him. He appreciated that Holly looked unsteady as she stood, and he rushed to follow, eager to get back inside her warmth. Glancing down to make sure his condom remained in place, he wordlessly guided her behind the chair, stood behind her and lifted her hands to close them over the back of it, then grazed his fingers up her arms before reaching under her dress again. Hiking the skirt back up, he molded his palms to her hips and eased his aching cock back into her. A low moan left her, heating his blood even more. God, she was amazing. It was still hard to believe this was Holly—his Holly—but he was happy to adjust to the changes in her. And finding out she’d become a ravenous sex kitten…well, it would be hard to be disappointed by that. As he began pounding into her—again, again, again—he got lost in his lust, and in older feelings, too. He wasn’t sure how this had happened—how she’d ended up back here where they’d met, or how he’d so quickly ended up fucking her brains out on the same beach where they’d once fallen for each other—but as a whole host of emotions gathered around him, circling him ferociously, all he could do was embrace them, accept them, and decide he’d sort through them later. Peering past her pretty blond head to the ocean in the distance, he couldn’t help thinking that this felt like nothing short of a miracle. She cried out with each hard thrust he delivered, fueling the fire inside him more every second. “More! More!” she demanded through clenched teeth and he was thrilled to give her what she craved, what they both clearly craved.

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He fucked her that way until he couldn’t think straight any longer, until his legs were about to give out and he suspected hers were, too. And then finally he succumbed to the need for release and growled near her ear, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby—hard,” just before he exploded, climaxing in five rough strokes into her soft, sweet flesh. A second later, they collapsed to their knees together in the sand. He found himself wrapping his arms around her from behind, still buried inside her, and kissing the back of her shoulder where it was revealed by her sleeveless dress. “You’re perfect,” he heard himself whisper without weighing the words. He didn’t even consider weighing them—when it came to Holly, he had nothing to hide. A minute later, he helped her get to her feet, and after slipping back into his underwear and shorts, drew her down into the lounge chair again, this time just to lie together. And after a few more minutes of companionable silence, he realized he had a lot to say to her. The truth was, he’d had a lot to say to her for a long time—and now he finally had the chance, so he should say it before he spent ten more years mired in regret. “Holly, baby, I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how sorry I am for the way I let things end when we knew each other before.” She lay nestled against his shoulder and when he looked down at her, she met his eyes yet didn’t reply. He couldn’t read her look but went on. “I don’t have any excuse except that I was an immature kid who couldn’t handle a longdistance relationship—and I just didn’t have the guts to break it to you like a man. And if it makes a difference at all, it’s been…one of the biggest regrets of my life. I am a man, and I should have acted like one, even at nineteen.”

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When next he glanced to her face, he found her lifting her eyes briefly to his, but then pulling them back down just as fast. “It…it’s nothing for you to beat yourself up for, not that big of a deal.” He couldn’t help being a little surprised. Yeah, she was clearly a strong, independent woman now, but back then, she’d been…innocent. And, well, even a little fragile he’d thought. Which was the main reason he hadn’t had the guts to break up with her—he’d been afraid she’d crumble and that he wouldn’t know what to do, how to handle it. “No?” he asked, leaning his head back slightly. She gave her head a gentle shake. “Sure, it hurt at the time, but I moved on. That’s how teenage love works sometimes.” Huh. That wasn’t what he’d expected, but…“Well, I’m glad.” And then he even admitted, “I didn’t move on so fast myself. But eventually.” “Good,” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. And something in the utter softness of her voice reminded him all over again, and made him wonder if…if there was still any part of Holly Pettit that was still fragile? Maybe not. And…hell, maybe it didn’t even matter. Either way, he was…damn, he was downright smitten. “Holl, it’s…it’s amazing to see you again, to be with you like this again. Can I see you tomorrow?” And he was surprised by how hard his heart beat after he posed the question, like a kid asking out his first date. “I really don’t like to strand Lori,” she said. “I mean, we came on this trip together.” But he was quick to assure her. “You don’t have to strand her. How about I meet you two at the pool, or the beach?” “Don’t you have to work?” He cast her a quick smile. “I’m kind of a big shot here, fishie. I can take the day for myself if I want. And I want. Meet me on the beach at noon?”

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Chapter Six

Holly lay on a lounge chair on South Beach in a white bikini—she owned several given that she lived in Vegas, where swimming pools were everywhere— and taking in the scene before her. Hotel guests filled the chairs on this particular stretch of sand, which meant lots of couples, along with groups of singles like her. Still, when she watched the stream of sun worshippers walking in both directions at the water’s edge, she saw the wider mix that populated South Beach on any given day: Along with typical families and middle-American couples here on vacation, she noticed gay men in skimpy Speedos holding hands, teenagers chattering to each other in Spanish, older retirees shading their faces with wide-brimmed hats, and more than one set of tits given that this was the only clothing-optional beach in the continental United States. She'd have felt a lot better if Lori were lying on the vacant chair next to her, but half an hour ago, her friend had run into a guy she'd met last night while Holly had been busy with Trey, and now she was gone. That was what she got, she supposed—it made perfect karmic sense. And now she was stuck facing Trey alone. “Are you sure it's okay, Holl?” Lori had asked her before leaving with the tall, dark, and handsome type who had seemed so taken with her. “I know you were counting on me being here with you today.” Lori knew everything that had transpired last night, and of course it wasn't okay, but Holly hadn't had the heart to say no. Especially when Lori had looked so taken with the guy—and it turned

Lacey Alexander

out he was from Orlando, same as her, meaning there could be potential for an actual relationship. Yet the longer she sat there alone, the more unsettled she felt. The way she’d ended up last night—feeling so close to him in moments, being so swept back in time—was bad enough. And she’d thought that having Lori here to keep things with Trey from getting too personal today would make meeting him here okay. But now she felt…vulnerable. And she’d thought she’d quit feeling vulnerable years ago. She didn’t like knowing she was even still capable of that. And over Trey Kennedy? It seemed a cruel twist of fate. Spotting yet another topless girl strolling up the beach, she glanced down at her own bikini. She’d certainly never gone topless here when she was young— the very idea had seemed no less than scandalous and she recalled feeling jealous and a little horrified by the women who were bold enough to do that. But now…now she was as bold as anyone. Or at least she could be when she wanted to. So…hmm, maybe being bold right now would be a good idea. Maybe it would remind her and Trey both—one more time—that she wasn’t the same little girl he’d deflowered. And if it freaked him out some to find her lying there with her boobs on display, all the better. Sitting up, she reached behind her back to untie her triangle top, then pulled the string behind her neck as well. As she drew the top casually away, tossing it on the lounge chair near her feet, she was thankful her life in Las Vegas had given her the confidence to do so with comfort. Lying back on the chair, she felt subtle looks, glances. Some from curious women. More from admiring men. Of course, those men might approach her since she was alone. But if so, she could handle it. Even if she was on a quest to change her wild ways, she’d picked up many skills in Las Vegas that served a girl well in life.

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Lulled by the sun and perfect temperatures, Holly soon let her eyes fall shut. And despite the fact that she lay on a crowded public beach wearing only a pair of tiny bikini bottoms, she actually began to feel a little bit relaxed, at ease. Maybe Trey wouldn't show up. Maybe he'd have some regrets about last night, too, and decide to just let it be what it was—one night of hot sex between old lovers. And maybe that would be cathartic enough for her. Maybe she'd somehow be able to forget the old feelings he'd made her feel. Maybe. “Wow.” Trey's voice instantly cut through her near-sleep state and—oh Lord—if she wasn't mistaken, had just made her nipples harder than the sea breeze already had. She opened her eyes, well aware that his wow didn't sound freaked out so much as…turned on. Clearly, a rash miscalculation on her part. And after the way he'd been last night, she supposed it had been pretty foolish to think she could shock him merely by baring her breasts on a topless beach. “Hi,” she said. Lust laced his grin. “Hi, fishie.” Then his gaze dropped pointedly to her tits before rising back to her face. “Those are nice.” She couldn't hold in her smile. “You've seen them before.” “Been a while,” he reminded her. “"And I was sorry I didn't get to see them last night.” And—oh no—there was something in how their eyes met just then, with her breasts bared before him that way, that she felt in her bikini bottoms. She was getting aroused again, too, just by being this way with him and knowing that he liked it, that they were sharing it. Even lying on a public beach, it felt as if she were revealing herself only to him, only for him—and as if he knew it, too.

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“But, uh…” He stopped, pointed down at them. “It looks like they might be starting to burn a little.” She gasped, glancing down. Damn it, she hadn’t even thought of that— which proved that she clearly didn’t have her head on nearly as straight as she wanted to today. “No worries, though,” he said quickly. Then gave her a short wink as he went down on one knee and began rummaging in her beach bag as comfortably as if it were his own—until he pulled out a bottle of sunscreen. And after flipping the cap open, he squeezed the coconut-scented lotion into one palm, set the bottle aside, rubbed his hands together, and bent over her to begin massaging it warmly into both breasts. She drew in her breath at the shock, the pleasure. Yes, you could go topless on South Beach, but you didn’t usually see—well, at least in most places—what pretty much equated to foreplay right out in the open. Yet it never occurred to her to try to stop him. Simply because it felt so good. In her breasts. In her pussy. She bit her lip, trying to hold in the moans that wanted to escape her, and the whole time she found herself still peering up into his sexy brown eyes, so much closer to hers now than they’d been just a minute before. She didn’t know if the people around them were watching, and she hardly cared. All she knew was that the man knew how to make her tits feel incredible. When finally he was finished, he leaned close and whispered, “There. Now you’re ready.” She let out a sigh—and, boy, was she ever. Ready for the sun. And ready for much more. Funny, after some of her wilder experiences in Vegas, she’d almost thought that she no longer had the capacity to get this turned on this easily. But it seemed, like it or not, that Trey was showing her maybe she didn’t know herself nearly as well as she thought.

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After a little time sunbathing, Trey reached over from the lounge chair next to hers and touched her arm. “Come into the water with me.” She just looked over at him. For a little while, they’d flirted—about her breasts, and the rest of her body, and he’d mentioned what they’d done last night—but then talk had slowly turned to the beach, the people passing by, the weather. And even though she’d remained aroused, she’d begun to think the hot sunscreen application hadn’t meant anything big, that the passion was waning a little, that she could still have a nice normal day with him here, without anything more happening. But now, the mere look in his eyes told her differently. “I’m…not in the mood,” she said. Which was a lie, in every way. The summer sun was hot beating down on them and a dip sounded nice. And a dip with Trey sounded even nicer, the mere thought making her cunt spasm lightly. He gave his head a teasing tilt. “Now, you know fishies like water. Come on, fishie,” he said, getting to his feet and reaching a hand down to her. And…she took it. Because she couldn’t quite not. Within moments they were wading into the Atlantic, and despite herself, Holly felt sexy and alive wearing only her bikini bottoms while most other people around them were in full, normal swimsuits. Whereas, before, the curious and admiring gazes of strangers hadn’t particularly affected her, now they did— now they made her feel exciting, daring, devil-may-care. But what affected her most was when Trey’s eyes met hers, sparkling warmly on her beneath the Miami sun. Soon they’d made it out past where the waves broke and found themselves chest-deep in the water. They held hands as they jumped over the calmly rolling tide, laughing, talking. But then somehow they were suddenly kissing, and his

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hands were on her tits again—and then on her ass as she wrapped her legs around him beneath the ocean’s surface. And mmm, he was deliciously hard against the crux of her thighs, and she found herself moving against him, undulating in the same leisurely, rhythmic pattern of the incoming waves, her body primed for pleasure now, pleasure that seemed to come so easily with Trey. She remembered that from their youth, when sex had been fresh and new—it remained beyond surprising to her that even now he could thrill her so much. They kissed more and soon she came, the water and the fact that they were in plain sight of other swimmers somehow intensifying the orgasm as it rushed through and over her as wild as those waves that crashed onto the shore just yards away. And when it was done, Trey smiled and said, “You amaze me, baby, but I love it.” And she said nothing, still pretty amazed herself. And still far more caught up in Trey Kennedy than she wanted to be.

That night, Holly found herself sitting across from Trey at one of the Imperial Palms’ outdoor restaurants—this one on the beach itself. Though she wore a sexy, dressy sundress and he khakis and a button-down shirt, they’d both left their shoes on the stone walkway that descended into the sand. Tiki torches burned around them as the sun began to set. As Trey told her more about his job and his life here, she wondered why she’d agreed to meet him again tonight. She shouldn’t have, of course. But Lori was still off with her new man, and Holly hadn’t particularly wanted to spend the rest of the weekend alone. And it was only one more day anyway—after

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another day at the beach tomorrow, she’d reconnect with Lori and they’d both be headed back to their respective homes. When Trey asked her more about her life, she tried to keep it vague—and exciting sounding. Though the last part wasn’t a stretch—her adult life so far had been exciting, and a lot of fun. But she still didn’t particularly want him to know she’d given up her professional dreams due to their breakup ten years ago, so that was the part she kept fudging her way around. “You amaze me,” he told her then, his eyes narrowing on her tightly. “You said that earlier today,” she remembered. And then found herself asking without quite meaning to, “What in particular are you so amazed about?” He gave his head a sexy tilt. “Honestly? The sex,” he said. “I mean, I just never saw that coming when we were young. So I can’t help it—your freer sexual attitude intrigues me and gets me hot. And guess I’m still just wondering how you got from where you were then to where you are now. You, uh, keep blowing me off whenever I ask you about that.” In reply, Holly only shrugged. “It’s because I don’t really have an answer for you, I’m afraid. People just change and evolve sometimes, that’s all.” She paused, took a sip from her wine glass. “Though…I’m sorry if I’ve ruined some illusion you had of me from our summer together.” And she meant that. There was a tiny part of her that missed that much more innocent girl, and didn’t like the idea of him missing her, too. But, as if reading her mind, he said, “No, it doesn’t ruin anything. You’re still you.” Though that surprised her. Because…was she? That same girl he’d known? She’d told herself over and over again that she wasn’t, and truly, she felt different inside, deeply altered. “I’m surprised you think that,” she admitted.

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“Why, fishie? Doesn’t matter how confident or worldly you are, or how many people you’ve fucked. You’re still the girl I loved—I can see her in you in moments when you probably think I don’t.” And good Lord—nothing Trey had said to her since her arrival had unsettled her more. Even if she might—in rare moments—miss that girl, she’d left her long behind. “I’m really…not that girl, Trey,” she insisted. “Sure you are,” he said easily, as if he knew something she didn’t. So maybe the time had come to…shock him, really shock him this time, to just put it all on the table and tell Trey Kennedy exactly how sexual she’d become. “Trey, I’ve had sex with other women. And I’ve had sex with more than one guy at a time. I’ve been with as many as three or four people at once. I really am…changed. I’m no longer that emotional, clingy girl you knew.” But to her dismay, he didn’t look the least bit stunned or turned off by what she’d shared. He simply gave her yet another confident, knowing look as he said, “Clingy, maybe not. But I know you’re feeling the same thing I am this weekend—old emotions. Just as strong as when we were teenagers on this beach together.” “That’s not true,” she denied quickly. “Prove it,” he said. “How?” “Let me fuck you again tonight, Holly. But this time I get to call all the shots.”

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Chapter Seven

Holly let out a breath and hoped he couldn’t see her chest deflating. “You want me to give up control? To prove I can do it without feeling emotional?” “Yeah, something like that.” “I like control,” she told him bluntly. “Yeah, I picked up on that.” “So the answer is no.” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t let him have some control already while they’d fucked, but she thought they’d at least traded it back and forth. No way was she interested in letting him take away her power when they were having sex. But

Trey

didn’t

look

defeated—if

anything,

she

thought

he

appeared…completely determined to have his way with her. “How about this? How about we go up to the penthouse suite, which is vacant tonight, and we just say…anything goes.” She didn’t answer for a long minute, even as their gazes met across the table. She grew aware of Latin music echoing from somewhere up the beach. The last thing she wanted was to let Trey gain more of an emotional hold on her than he’d already managed to over the last twenty-four hours. So to agree—even without surrendering control—would feel almost like…suicide in a way. When they’d first encountered each other, she’d been so sure she could fool around with him without feeling anything—but the plain truth she kept trying to avoid was…she felt a lot. Too much. And she had to turn him down now—she had to. Somehow she almost feared her very soul depended on it. Say no now and

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maybe you can make a clean getaway from this weekend without missing him too much when it’s over, without feeling too much of that ancient sensation of colossal loss from ten years ago. And yet…she wanted him. Madly. Wildly. She wanted to feel her skin hot against his. She craved having his hard cock back inside her—in fact, if she was honest with herself, she’d been aching for that ever since her orgasm today in the ocean. Orgasms were great, but there was nothing like being well and truly fucked, deep and hard. And it’s only sex, right? She was good at only sex. She’d come here good at only sex; she could get her edge back and be good at it again. And it would be…the ultimate victory. Not only over him now, but also over herself. “Fair enough,” she finally said, though her voice came out in little more than a whisper. And for a fleeting, frightening moment, she feared she’d just made the wrong decision. But then she took another sip of her wine and tried to let it gird her. I can do this. I can fuck him and not care. And then those old demons will never haunt me again.

By the time Trey led Holly to the hotel’s most luxurious suite on the top floor, it was all he could do not to rip her clothes off. Just looking at her pretty eyes, her full lips, all through dinner, had kept his desire at a fever pitch. Of course, maybe part of it was remembering all they’d done together just since yesterday, but deep inside, he knew it was more than that. It was more than discovering Holly’s wild sexual lifestyle. It was more than the excitement of shared lust. It was about…the past. About the fact that he’d never dreamed he’d be with her again, and now, here they were. It was about all those old, buried emotions

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coming fully back to life—same as if he’d taken a pressed rose out of a book and seen it burst into full bloom. And he was going to make damn good and sure Holly felt all that, too, in a way she couldn’t deny. And as heated up as he was, as hungry as he felt, he knew he had to go slowly now. He had to go slowly, make them both feel every touch, every look. He wanted them both to savor every moment. He wanted the experience to change them both forever. As he opened the suite’s double doors, he thought about showing her around the place—it was pretty lavish—but just as quickly, he realized that nothing between these walls could even remotely compare to the pleasure he wanted to bring her, right now. So when she walked to the French doors that led to the wide balcony, he followed her out onto it. He pressed his palm to the small of her back as she took in the view. Of course, it was dark out, the sun having long since disappeared, but the sky twinkled with stars, more than he thought he could usually see from here given the proximity to the Miami city lights. “We used to look at the stars a lot,” he reminded her. “Because it was free,” she said on a laugh, remembering. Both of them had needed to save most of the money they’d made that summer, but the beach itself had been the perfect playground, both day and night. “Not a bad show for free,” he pointed out. And she agreed. That was when he reached up to draw her blond locks off her shoulder to lower a feather-light kiss to her tender neck. And when she sighed, and even trembled a little at the same time, he took a bit of masculine pride in knowing he could still make her feel something that simple so much.

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He closed his hands over her hips as he delivered another soft kiss to the same spot, then another, and another. Holly’s head bent to one side, allowing him easier access, and he could hear nothing but their breathing. Soon, he rained still more tender kisses down over her bare shoulder and then onto the back of it. He suffered the sensation of wanting to kiss her everywhere. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to be this gentle and slow with someone, but then—wait—maybe he could. It had been ten years ago—with her. Maybe she’d been trying to shock him, scare him, with those tidbits about her sexual exploits, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to judge someone and he didn’t care about any of that. What he cared about was Holly the person, the woman. And he wanted her to know it. Finally, she turned in his arms to kiss him back, and he felt the simple move deep inside—she wanted this, too. And he knew—knew—it had to be more than just sex for her. Otherwise, that first little kiss would never have made her tremble. And her arms wouldn’t be locking quite so tightly around his neck right now. He pulled her close, moved his mouth over hers, felt his hardened cock press into that softest spot between her legs. They kissed that way for a long time, Trey delivering tender touches, skimming his fingertips down her back, up her arms. The kisses stayed slow, deep, his tongue pressing into her mouth—and as much as he was dying to fuck her, one more thing he couldn’t remember: the last time he’d simply kissed a woman for so long and taken so much pleasure in it. Finally, though, he needed more. And he knew she did, too. But he still didn’t want to rush. In fact, it made him a little angry at himself remembering that he hadn’t even seen her breasts until today on the beach, and so now he reached up behind her neck and gently pulled the tie that held her sundress in place. When it loosened in front, he stepped back just far enough to draw the

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fabric down over her tits, putting them on display between them. And just like earlier, out on the sand, he was struck by how gorgeous they were—medium size and pert, the pink nipples beaded and slightly upturned. “Oh honey,” he murmured, taking them in. And then he bent to lightly flick his tongue over one beautifully taut peak. Despite the heat, she shivered, and he fell for her all the more. After that, he took turns kissing and licking each perfect breast as Holly ran her hands through his hair and, above, sighed her pleasure. She leaned back against the balcony railing as he delivered the ministrations, slow and thorough, and knew she was feeling each little lick all the way to her core. Of course, soon he wanted to kiss and lick other places, too. So he dropped to his knees and slid his hands up under her dress, his touch grazing its way over her knees and up her smooth thighs. This time when she let out a breath of pleasure, he found himself smiling up at her—and she smiled back. And while those smiles were laced with sex and lust and naughtiness, he knew they were also colored by…comfort. The familiar. Being with her was new…and yet not. It was like being with her now, here, in the present, but also like being with her back in the past as well. “You want to sit down, fishie?” he murmured, thinking she might be able to more fully relax and enjoy what he was about to do if she was comfortable. “All right,” she whispered easily, sounding to him so much like the eighteenyear-old version of herself that he knew she’d be angry if she realized it. She seemed so determined to have left her girlhood behind, but what he’d told her was true: He could still see vestiges of that girl inside her—she was just more grown up now, bolder, braver, more confident, and sexy as hell. She stepped around him to a chair situated next to a small breakfast table, pulling it out to face him, then taking a seat. And he wasted no time turning

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toward her on his knees and smoothing his palms up her thighs once more beneath the dress. “Lift up,” he said when he encountered lace, and when she raised, he silently drew her panties down and off, over the strappy heels she’d put back on after leaving the beach restaurant. And then, just as he was about to spread her legs, she did it for him, and in one audacious move lifted them over the chair’s small arms, raising her hem at the same time to put her pussy boldly and incredibly on display. Damn, she was hot. As he looked into the parted pink folds of her cunt, the skin around it smooth and bare, a rush of arousal like none he’d ever known overtook him. But be cool here. You still want to keep this slow, unhurried. And so after meeting her eyes for one brief moment, he pressed his hands to her inner thighs and leaned in to swirl his tongue directly around her clit. She cried out softly and the heated sounds echoed all through him as he concentrated on licking and laving every nook and cranny of her perfect pink pussy. Above him, she sighed and whimpered and moaned, her breath catching at times, and he glanced up to see her head dropped back, mouth open in what appeared to be near-ecstasy. He thought he’d never enjoyed going down on a woman as much as he was enjoying this, now, with her—it even surpassed times when they’d been together before. Maybe because this felt like coming full circle. Or maybe because he knew in his heart that even as they shared some hot and dirty pleasures, at the same time he was breaking through her defenses, bit by scintillating bit. He never rushed, just continued loving the taste of her feminine juices, drinking in her every sound of delight, feeling the warmth and softness of her most intimate flesh around his mouth, face. But soon enough she was murmuring, “Oh God, yes…almost…almost.”

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And as the orgasm went blasting through her, it felt almost like all he could do not to come himself, even with no stimulation to his dick at all. Her cries of pleasure rained down on him, all heat and loss-of-control, rolling through him like thunder. When finally her body stilled, relaxing back in the chair, he rose to press one lone kiss to the rounded flesh beside a pointed mauve nipple, and said, “You are fucking delicious.” And when she looked down on him, he saw again the girl she used to be. All caught up in passion, in the connection it brought. Her blue eyes looked wild and desperate and even a bit sad as she said, “Will you fuck me now, Trey? Please?” “Of course I will, baby.” He was more than happy to give her what she needed. As Holly pushed to her feet, though, Trey began to be the one feeling impatient, and he scooped her up into his arms, clearly catching her off guard but making her laugh at the same time. Then he carried her back through the open French doors and to the king-size bed that faced a wide glass window. Trey happened to know that in the morning, they’d wake up to a spectacular view out that window, and though tonight it only let in the darkness and a glimpse of the moon, who cared since what really mattered would be happening in the bed. Holly lay on her back, her dress still half off and completely rumpled, watching impatiently as he shed his shirt and then hurried to undo his pants. Yeah, he’d been taking this slow and leisurely up to now, but he couldn’t fight the urgency any longer. “Why don’t you get rid of that dress, fishie?” he told her as he shed his clothes. “It’s pretty and all, but I like what’s underneath it more.”

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With a sparkle in her eye, she worked at removing the dress, soon tossing it aside, and by the time he joined her on the bed they were both naked and breathing hard. “Please hurry,” she told him. “I want you in me, now.” Holly had completely lost control, lost herself, to Trey. All she could think of was how much she wanted him. In a different way than she’d ever wanted any other man. She simply needed their bodies to connect—and she needed their souls to connect just as desperately. Her pussy ached even as he turned her onto her side, positioning himself behind her. And—oh Lord—she remembered. This was how they’d done it when they were young. Yes, other ways, too, and missionary position for a while in the beginning—but soon they’d discovered they both loved it this particular way and it had become their “usual.” And as Trey situated his wonderfully large erection at her opening, then plunged it inside, she was reminded exactly why this had been their favorite way to fuck. She’d always felt him deeper that way, especially on that initial entry. Now it jolted her body and forced a sound of pleasure from her throat. And yes, he’d fucked her from behind on the beach, but this particular position—lying down like this—was what brought back those intense recollections. And sure, she’d done it with plenty of other guys this way, too, but…she couldn’t say why, yet with Trey, she truly felt the power of his cock more than with anyone else. And somehow it felt…special, like the ultimate joining of two bodies, and like…well, something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. As he plunged into her wetness over and over, she found herself peering out the wide window a few feet away, but given the darkness outside, what she actually saw was…a reflection of them, moving together. It turned her on all the more to witness their naked bodies together, writhing and undulating in perfect rhythm. She watched Trey’s hand as it molded to her bare hip, then later closed

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over her breast, first kneading and then tweaking the nipple between his fingers. She saw the power behind his strokes as their bodies jerked slightly at each deep impact. And then she spied…her own expression, brimming with lust and pleasure…and something else, too, something she just didn’t quite want to let herself put a name to. But she felt it deeply. And she couldn’t find the strength to push it away. Don’t think. Just don’t think. Through the still-open French doors the sound of ocean waves echoed upward, and she let herself concentrate on that, and on the glorious sensation of being fucked by her first love, and nothing else. She wasn’t sure how long they did it. There were moments when they changed positions. At one point, he put her on her hands and knees and pounded into her relentlessly hard. And then, for a while, they lay face to face, him moving in her more deeply and slowly, just like when they’d first made love the summer she’d been eighteen. Eventually, though, he turned her back on her side and re-entered her that way—the very move forcing from her yet another lustful groan of pleasure—and he fucked her hard, hard, hard, driving every thought from her brain until finally he said, “Oh God, I’m gonna come, Holly, I’m gonna come in you,” and then he did. The strokes were so unbelievably powerful that she thought she almost felt his climax as much as he did. And somewhere in those hazy moments after, she became unerringly aware of a couple of different things. First, they hadn’t used a condom. That had seemed so important last night, and there had never been a time in her life when she wasn’t judicious about that—yet somehow, now, it had totally slipped her mind. But she wasn’t worried—as they’d talked last night, he’d told her he was always safe and careful, and she believed him. And fortunately, she was on the pill, too.

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And second—oh boy, this one was scarier because it was the fact that…she felt attached to him now. More than attached—deeply…joined. Exactly what she supposed he’d wanted when he’d propositioned her earlier tonight. And exactly what she’d been so determined to avoid when this had started. And yet…it wasn’t a horrible feeling. She didn’t hate herself. In fact, if she was honest, she felt…happy. Almost…elated. She felt…alive. Alive in a way she maybe hadn’t experienced since…oh Lord, since she’d left South Beach ten years ago. Whoa. She had to stop thinking for a minute, catch her breath. What on earth are you letting happen here? This is a total betrayal of everything you stand for, a betrayal of everything you wanted when you first saw him yesterday. And oh God, this had only started yesterday? It seemed, already, as if he’d been back in her life for so much longer. It seemed, in a weird way, almost as if he’d never even left. And yet, again, she just…couldn’t fight it right now. In fact, at the moment it seemed all too easy to simply let herself give up the struggle and just bask in the moment. And then there was Trey, leaning over her in the bed, letting her feel his warmth, pulling her back into his strong embrace. There were Trey’s eyes, drawing her in, capturing her very senses. There was Trey’s body, making her somehow feel protected and adored, just by virtue of holding her, making her feel…as if she were where she belonged. “I used to dream of this, Holly,” he told her softly, “back when we were young. I used to dream of getting older together, of having enough money to take you on expensive trips and give you this kind of room, and of making love

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to you all night long. I never could have imagined, though, that we’d end up here, like this.” “I…I couldn’t have imagined this, either.” “And the truth is,” he went on, “I’m not sure I ever completely quit loving you.” Holly’s heart threatened to beat through her chest. She so wanted to be the hip, cool, aloof chick she’d been with him just a day ago. She so wanted to keep that illusion in the forefront—for both of them. But the real, honest, and even painful truth was…“I don’t think I ever quit loving you, either.” She pulled in her breath after realizing the words had left her mouth. They felt like blasphemy of the most horrific kind. But then Trey was kissing her, deeply, passionately, and then the words didn’t feel so awful at all. In fact, the longer he kissed her and the more she let herself stop thinking and simply absorb everything passing between them, the more it began to feel like…everything was okay. And like maybe, just maybe, this was somehow all meant to be. They didn’t talk much more after that, but they didn’t have to—it was as if that one little confession, on both their parts, had been all that was necessary. Suddenly, as if by magic, they were on the same page here. They wanted the same thing: they wanted…more. Of this. Of each other. They made love twice more through the night—and Holly couldn’t deny it, it had truly been making love. Though after those particularly pleasant little tussles, they did talk. Or, more specifically, she talked. She never meant to exactly, and she never made the conscious decision to do so, but before long she heard herself telling him—admitting—the real truth about her career, that she’d let herself down by abandoning her aspirations to be an attorney. She didn’t go on—she didn’t explain that it had anything to do with

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him—but maybe she just felt close enough to him in this moment that she’d suffered the urge to share…something. Something that was big to her, personal. Something she hadn’t felt comfortable confiding in him up to now. “It’s never too late,” he’d told her gently. And she supposed that was true. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she’d started feeling older than her twenty-eight years. But here, now, with Trey, she suddenly felt much younger again, as if so much of life suddenly stretched before her. “Maybe you’re right,” she whispered in the dark, nestled against him. “Though, for now, I’m just happy enough to have gotten my paralegal training. And as soon as I get back to Vegas, I’ll be ready to start sending out resumes.” “Or…you could send them out in Miami instead,” he suggested, his voice just as soft as hers. “They need paralegals everywhere, you know.” And even as what he was really saying hit home and took her breath away, she realized that maybe it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at all. She hadn’t planned on leaving Vegas, but really, what did she have there? In reply, she simply bit her lip, leaned in to kiss him, and with a hint of a smile said, “Guess they do.” After that, they agreed that they’d talk more over breakfast in the morning, about possibilities, about the idea of seeing more of each other, being together again. And then she fell asleep in his arms, feeling safer and more content than she had in a very long time.

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Chapter Eight

The bright Miami sun rising over the Atlantic came streaming in the big window to wake Trey early. His first impulse was to pull the covers over his eyes to block out the light. But then he remembered—where he was, who he was with. That his life had changed last night, that it had started changing back to what it should have been a long time ago. And that he actually didn’t mind facing the day at all. So he opened his eyes to find the penthouse suite drenched in morning sunlight, and he glanced to his side to see…hell, next to him lay only rumpled sheets. But maybe she was in the bathroom or something. “Holly? Fishie, honey, where are you?” Yet only silence answered. And sure, maybe she just couldn’t hear him behind a closed door or something. But in his heart, he knew. Last night had been too good to be true. Still lying in bed, he crushed his eyes shut against the searing sting in his chest. Yep, just too damn good to be true, and maybe he should have realized that. The thought had him replaying the night in his head, trying to figure out what had gone wrong just when things had started to seem so right. And hell, he began to remember parts that…well, that hadn’t seemed as important last night as they were starting to now. Just little things she’d said after she’d finally

Lacey Alexander

started opening up to him, really talking. Little phrases. “After that summer…” “Once you were out of my life…” “After I realized we were over…” And…damn. Suddenly it all seemed pretty clear. She wanted him, the same way he wanted her, but despite what she’d said, she was angry at him for hurting her all those years ago. And she just wasn’t willing to stop punishing him for it. Or maybe she just didn’t trust him not to do it again. And hell, either way, could he really blame her? It had been a downright shitty thing to do. Leaning his head back on the bed with a sigh, that was when he glanced over to see something sticking out from beneath her vacant pillow and realized she’d left her cell phone behind. Hell—that was how fast she’d gone running away from him. Well, maybe this was actually good news. Maybe he could reach Lori through the phone, figure out how to stop Holly from leaving—if it wasn’t too late already. Hurriedly, he picked it up, turned it on. And…shit. She’d been texting last night at some point, texting Lori, and the texting screen was still up. He read only the last message she’d sent: Getting in pretty deep here. But at least didn’t tell him Vegas was all because of him. And his heart went hollow. Because he feared he was beginning to understand a lot more now than he had even just a moment ago. Was she saying it was his fault the course of her life had changed so dramatically? In a way—a terrible way—it almost made sense. After all, didn’t he remember her being innocent back then, impressionable, easily hurt?

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Was it possible he’d hurt her so badly that…that he was what had changed her sexual attitudes, that he was why she’d moved across the country and changed her career plans? It felt almost arrogant to think so…but damn, he couldn’t come up with any other way to interpret what he’d just read. He had to find her, that was all. He just had to find her.

Holly stood in the lobby, suitcase at her side, waiting for the cab she’d just requested. She and Lori weren’t scheduled to leave until tonight, but she’d called Lori’s cell a little while ago from the phone in their little-used hotel room and, getting voicemail, had just kept it simple. “I was right last night—I got in too deep—and I need to fly home this morning. Sorry—I’ll call you tomorrow.” Contacting Lori would have been simpler, of course, if she hadn’t lost her cell phone—most likely in the suite with Trey—but she certainly wasn’t going back for it. With any luck, he’d never notice it and a maid might turn it in to Lost and Found. She’d check into that later—but for now, she had bigger things on her mind. And yeah, leaving was going to hurt, but…at least it meant that she still won. She would break his heart, the same as he’d once broken hers. And he’d never have the chance to break it again. Of course, maybe that didn’t hold the same satisfaction it had a couple of days ago. But the important part was that once she got away from him and got back to her real life, everything would be okay. As for last night—hell, this whole weekend with him—it was all just…a dream. A pretty incredible dream at times, but in the end, nothing that had happened here was real. It was no different than if she’d met a stranger and

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fucked him; Trey was a stranger to her after ten years apart, after all. That was all she could let him be. And as for the tender emotions she’d experienced with him, well…those were just bits of old, leftover remnants from her youth, and she was better off without them. Someone could only hurt you if you let them hurt you, if you let yourself love them. And she just couldn’t risk that, not again. Not when she was finally on the verge of getting her life back on track and in order. She looked toward the bustling lobby’s revolving door. Where was that taxi? She knew it was early, but Sunday was a busy day for hotel turnover, so the streets of South Beach should be teeming with cabs wanting to drive her to the airport. Come on, already. I need to get out of here. Just then, like an answered prayer, the doorman lifted a finger in her direction, letting her know her taxi had arrived. Good. You can run away now. Just like you always do. Run, run, run from your problems to someplace where you can distract yourself with other things and don’t have to feel so much. Curling her hand around the extended handle of her roller bag, she took the first step toward the door, toward what felt like…safety. But a whole different kind of safety than she’d felt last night in Trey’s arms. “Holly!” Oh God. Oh no. Her chest deflated and her body went weak at the sound of Trey’s voice echoing through the acoustically perfect, arched ceiling of the Imperial Palms lobby. And when she instinctively stopped and turned to look, she realized instantly that everyone else in the lobby had stopped to look, too. Yet she only really saw him. He rushed toward her wearing the same clothes as last night, albeit rumpled now as he’d clearly come straight from the suite— and his eyes were alight with pain at the sight of her with her suitcase.

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He stopped a few feet away from her, spoke quietly. “Found your phone.” He held it up. “Oh.” She let out a heavy breath, somehow felt a little defeated. “What are you doing?” But stop it, you aren’t defeated. You won. “Leaving,” she said, proud when the word came out strong and confident, like she usually was. “So…last night was…” Come on, be tough, you can do this. Be…honest. Brutally honest. “A game. The whole weekend was a game. To show you how it feels to be hurt and abandoned.” That wasn’t strictly true—the part that had happened last night, in bed, hadn’t been a game at all, but this just kept things simpler, cleaner. He didn’t need to know she’d ever had any doubts or wavered at all. He simply stood there looking at her, myriad emotions passing over his face. At first, he appeared dumbfounded, but then his expression eased into one of hurt and maybe even some humiliation. And God, that kind of stung. It shouldn’t—he’d hurt her far worse once upon a time—but it still did. Yet even so, she managed to stand there and keep her game face on. Because if she could do that for only another minute or two, surely he would finally give up and leave, and then she would have what she’d wanted—victory. Hollow now, maybe. No, hollow for sure. But at least her heart wouldn’t be back at risk, not with him, not ever again. Keep being tough, keep being strong. You’re no one’s innocent little farm girl anymore. “When I woke up and you were gone,” he began, “I figured out that maybe I’d hurt you so badly when we were young that it was how you got from where you were then to where you are now. That maybe that’s why you just wouldn’t talk about it. And I was sick to think I hurt you that way. I was sick and came running to find you to tell you that I love you and want to somehow make it all

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up to you. But I never dreamed you could be this cold, Holly.” And then, finally, as she’d been waiting for him to do, Trey simply set her phone on the nearest table and turned to walk away across the marble lobby floor. And—oh God—her heart broke. Right there in the lobby of the Imperial Palms, her heart crumbled to dust in her chest. And a painful lump rose in her throat. Because the biggest truth here, the biggest one of all, suddenly slapping her in the face, was that maybe she was a fool. A fool to have walked away from the only man who had ever really cared for her. A fool to be letting him walk away from her now. You can spend your whole life putting up walls, trying to keep your heart safe…but where has that really gotten you? What was so great about her life the way it was now anyway? After all, she’d been the one who’d decided she needed to make changes, that it wasn’t what she wanted for herself. Or…you can actually, for once in your adult life, be brave, do something scary, do the scariest thing you’ve ever done. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. And—oh Lord, this was so hard, so frightening—but she let her heart begin to guide her. And that had been tricky enough in the dark of night, but it was much more terrifying now, in the bright light of day. And in that acoustically perfect lobby, her voice rang out, “Trey! Wait! Please!” And when he just kept walking, nearly reaching the entry to a hallway that would lead him out of sight, she called again, more frantically this time, “Please!” It was then that he drew to a halt, turned to face her again. Their eyes met across the distance that separated them, and even as aware as she was of the audience still tuned in to their drama, she knew she had to take a

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chance on this. If she didn’t, she would never forgive herself. She couldn’t hold the past against him forever. “I still love you, Trey. I still love you and I’m sorry I started to run away. You just…scare me to death.” Across the lobby, he blinked, then took a few steps toward her. She did the same without even thinking, abandoning her suitcase. “I scare you?” he asked. Then, to her surprise, he let out a short laugh. “I hate to break it to you, fishie, but you scare me, too. In so many ways. Only I don’t care. Because I still want you and I still love you and I think we could be really great together if we give each other an honest chance.” Thoughts raced through Holly’s brain. She hadn’t planned on this, after all. She hadn’t planned on any of it. But Trey was telling her he loved her—he loved the old her and he loved the person she’d become. And it dawned on her for the first time that maybe everything she’d done in the ten years they’d been apart had been exactly right, for her, exactly right to lead her here to this precise moment in time. And she knew with her whole heart now that she had to just roll with this, go with it and see where it led. “Then…maybe we can figure out how to stop scaring each other so much,” she said softly. And he answered just as quietly, still moving toward her. “That sounds damn good to me, fishie.” They met in the lobby’s center, next to the fountain, though both had forgotten there was anyone else around them. Trey lifted both hands to her face, and as he lowered his mouth to hers for what she thought was the most wonderful, life-affirming kiss she’d ever received, she pressed her palms to his chest, felt the strong beat of his heart, and knew—as she had briefly last night— that somehow she’d ended up exactly where she belonged.

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“Um, miss, will you still be needing that cab?” It took a minute for the doorman’s voice to cut in on her thoughts, and by the time she was ready to summon an answer, Trey did it for her, telling the man with a smile, “Nope—because my little fishie’s not going anywhere.”

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About the Author

Lacey

Alexander’s

books

have

been

called

deliciously

decadent,

unbelievably erotic, exceptionally arousing, blazingly sexual, and downright sinful. In each book, Lacey strives to take her readers on the ultimate erotic adventure and hopes her books will encourage women to embrace their sexual fantasies. Lacey resides in the Midwest with her husband, and when not penning romantic erotica, she enjoys history and traveling, often incorporating favorite travel destinations into her work. Check out her website at www.laceyalexander.net for more information about Lacey and her books.

Look for these titles by Lacey Alexander

Now Available: Hot in the City French Quarter Sin City Key West

Coming Soon: Hot for Santa

The key to sun, sand, and sin is total surrender…

Key West

© 2011 Lacey Alexander Hot in the City, Book 3 Carrie Marsh is on her Key West honeymoon—alone. After discovering her fiancé fooling around with a bridesmaid on her wedding day, she figures the trip will help her clear her head and move on. But she doesn’t expect inspiration to appear in the form of a tan, sexy boat captain ready to introduce her to the island’s legendary, free-spirited debauchery. Carrie isn’t the first beach bunny that hard-working, harder-playing Chris McCann has partied with, but peeling away her innocence to find her inner bad girl affects him like no one has before. Her sexual awakening burns hotter than the Key West sun, melting his resistance and incinerating any hope he has of keeping their relationship casual. All too soon, Carrie’s return to reality is a plane ride away and neither of them is ready for the fantasy to end. But Carrie has a business to return to, and Chris’s livelihood is on the island. And besides, Carrie is just beginning to recover from the wedding that wasn’t, and Chris isn’t a settling-down kind of guy. So it only makes sense to leave the sun, sand, and sensuality of the island behind. But can she walk away from her hedonistic week with Chris without looking back? Warning: Contains a ticket to a party cruise where anything goes—the rum punch is flowing, inhibitions (and clothes) disappear, and the captain (and his crew) are ready to cater to every erotic desire. Come as you are… Enjoy the following excerpt for Key West:

Upon their arrival, Chris had pointed out to everyone the area in the turquoise blue waters that appeared slightly darker, more shadowy, indicating it was the reef. Carrie swam toward it, following the other snorkelers—but she hadn’t traveled twenty feet when a warm hand closed around her ankle. “Wait up, angel.” Looking back, she blinked behind her mask, surprised Chris was already in the water. “How’d you get here so fast?” “Secret maneuver.” He grinned. “I jumped off the side.” She smiled in reply. “Well, where are those great fish spots you bragged about?” “Follow me.” He was a good, swift swimmer, and Carrie had trouble keeping up with him until she grabbed onto the bottom hem of his dark green trunks and let him pull her along. When they reached the reef, she followed his lead, putting her snorkeling tube in her mouth and immersing her face in the water. The simple act opened a whole new underwater world as her eyes fell on mounds of brown and golden coral growing up from the ocean floor. Fish of all sizes swam beneath them, some darting about haphazardly, others looking as if they were out for a leisurely journey, and with the help of Chris’s pointing finger, she saw countless tropical fish over the next hour. She spotted a number of beautiful fish in iridescent rainbow colors—schools of yellow and black fish swam just beneath them repeatedly, followed by a large green one that ducked in and out of coral arches in search of smaller fish to eat. Her favorite find was a lobster crawling across the ocean floor, which she’d never have noticed without Chris’s help. Of course, just feeling his presence next to her in the water kept her sexual nerves on edge, and the instances when they bumped together in the waves were like wonderful little teases, tastes of what might be to come. Even as she enjoyed

the snorkeling, she found herself thinking of later, wondering what would happen—if anything. But given all the attention he was paying her—not to mention his sensual application of sunscreen—she had a feeling something more would definitely occur, and this time she’d welcome it without worry. Still peering down into the gnarled coral, she followed Chris’s pointing finger to something that looked like…a shark. She grabbed his muscled arm, hard, and he looked up. “Was that a shark?” He nodded—and she panicked, her every nerve going spastic as she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his torso, as if she could somehow climb up his body to safety. His arms closed warm around her waist beneath the water, but he didn’t even look worried. “Just a nurse shark, angel. Nothing to be alarmed about.” “What do you mean, nothing to be alarmed about?” she spat, still clinging to him. “Look at me. Do I look worried? Do you see me screaming ‘Shark! Shark!’ to the other snorkelers? Everything’s fine. That little shark won’t hurt anybody—we see them all the time.” Pulling her even closer now, though, he seemed to realize just how intimately embraced they’d become. “Not that I mind you climbing all over me. In fact, I like it.” He flashed the seductive grin she was getting used to and she realized his cock was growing hard against her pussy, which somehow felt supercharged as he rubbed against her beneath the water. She forgot all about the shark when he began caressing her hips, his hands soon kneading her ass. Instinctively, she raked her breasts over his chest just beneath the ocean’s clear surface—then glanced down to see her nipples, hard and grazing his skin, the water seeming to cocoon them now. Everywhere the

water touched her felt like a small, light caress—it felt more as if they were wrapped in velvet than H2O. She wished like hell she wasn’t wearing her silly flippers or mask. Reaching up, she yanked the mask off her face, looping it around her wrist, then did the same for him. Ah yes, so much nicer to look into those blue eyes without anything in the way. Disentangling her fins from his, she drew her legs back. “Fins are in the way,” she murmured. His mouth was so close, she wanted to kiss him. “Mmm,” he said. “That’s all right.” He slid his thigh between hers, beginning to rub her cunt through her bathing suit, sending waves of pleasure echoing out through her body like sonar. Her leg naturally ended up between his as well, and she relished the feel of his hard shaft against her thigh. Without her permission, her body began to respond, moving against him, riding his leg. She drew in her breath, wishing she could stop. “Don’t fight it, angel, if it feels good.” “But…the people.” Chris looked around them, so Carrie did, too. Fortunately, no one was nearby, and they were fairly far from the boat, which made her think maybe she could kiss him, maybe she could ride his thigh to hot ecstasy, until… “Hey, Chris!” Jake yelled from onboard. “Shit,” he murmured, but he didn’t disengage from her, only looked to his crew member and yelled, “What?” “Fifteen minutes!” “Okay, thanks.” He looked to Carrie, his big hands still gently caressing her hips, back, ass. “It’s almost time to call everybody in.” He let out a sigh. “Which means I need to head in now to help take gear and get lunch ready.”

Carrie nodded, waiting for him to separate from her and end their sexy water play. But he didn’t. “Come to the Lazy Lizard tonight,” he said instead. “The what?” she asked. He flashed his usual grin. “The Lazy Lizard. It’s a bar just off Duval, a block up from the Conch Train Depot. I tend bar there a couple nights a week.” She blinked, incredulous. “How many jobs do you have?” He laughed. “Several. But payments on that thing,” he said, pointing to the boat, “aren’t cheap.” He looked back at her, his face serious again, his blue eyes filled with slow heat. “Anyway, come to the Lizard tonight. I don’t get off ’til two, but Monday nights are slow, so I might be able to leave early. Either way, we can hang out and…” With both hands, he slowly squeezed her ass tight, his fingers thrillingly close to her tingling pussy. “And?” He glanced down at her breasts and ran his palms gently up her sides until his thumbs stroked the outer curve of the sensitive mounds. “And remember, on the party boat, how I told you I couldn’t touch you there?” She nodded. “Well, I can’t touch you quite as much as I want to here, either. But at the bar, angel, I can touch you as much as I like.”

She wants a piece of his rock. He needs her, rock steady, in his heart.

A Little Wild

© 2011 Kate St. James Tess Sheridan won’t let anything stop her from making partner at a prestigious law firm, especially her notoriously soft heart. The result? She’s a handful of clients away from getting her name on that brass plate. And she hasn’t had sex in over a year. When her best friend dares her to test-drive her erotic fantasies with a gorgeous stranger, she figures, why not? Loosening the reins will give her inner nympho some well-deserved pampering without jeopardizing her career goals. Zach Halliday has enjoyed his bad-boy reputation to the fullest, but now it’s time to leave the relative safety of the family corporation and prove he can stand on his own in the business world. That doesn’t mean he’ll pass up an opportunity for some incredible phone sex with the beautiful strawberry blonde he met in a bar. When business overlaps with the bedroom, Zach sees something special in Tess and is determined to convince her he’s the man she needs, anytime, anyplace. She can backpedal, but come hell or high-climbing-wall, he wants the fascinating, complicated sex bomb in his bed. Over and over again… Warning: This book contains explicit, melt-your-panties sex (phone and otherwise), and inappropriate use of wild cherry ice cream. Insights on rejuvenating your own inner nympho may be inspired upon reading. Enjoy the following excerpt for A Little Wild: Jack Halloran’s hands were all over her, caressing her breasts, her tummy, her thighs…parting her legs, slowly, deliberately…nearly there, nearly touching her

clit…ohhh…then drifting away again, teasing, tormenting, filling her with unquenchable lust. Letting out a whimper, Tess slid deeper into the tub. Hot water skimmed her chin as her freshly washed hair floated around her. Millions of jasmine-scented bubbles lapped at her raised knees and buoyed her arms. If she sank low enough, consciously clearing her mind, and allowed the soothing effects of a long, hot soak to take over, her fantasies of Jack Halloran would vanish down the drain with the bubbles. They had to. She’d be useless at work on Monday if she didn’t free herself from these maddening physical distractions. And Chloe wondered why Tess intended to remain celibate while she worked her way up at the firm. Surrendering to the demands of her body always messed with her head. She needed focus, not diversions. In a few years, she’d rethink things, dip her toes into the sex pool again. There’d be other men like Jack Halloran. She had plenty of time. A hollow ache balled in her chest. Plugging her nose, she submerged herself completely. The weight of the water thumped in her ears, and welcome heat drenched her skin. When her lungs contracted, she came up for air. The phone on the lowered toilet lid rang. She tugged the towel on the inside-tub rod to dry her face. Usually, she didn’t bring the telephone into the bathroom. However, last night her youngest sister had called to report that their mother was experiencing a major housecleaning fit. At such times, their father made himself scarce, which upset Patrice Sheridan, who maintained she only kept a perfect house to please him. In truth, Tess and her sisters realized their mother entered housecleaning overload whenever she felt neglected or under some other equally disturbing

Mike-Sheridan-induced stress. Calling each of her daughters and griping about Dad seemed to calm Mom. Curving her wet hair behind one ear, Tess sat halfway up in the tub. She glanced at the call display. Private. Frowning, she clicked Talk. “Yes?” “Tess S.?” Jack! Her nipples contracted into tight, tingling peaks. She could blame the reaction on the fact that warm, sudsy water no longer covered her breasts, but she knew better. Her body had responded to his low, sensual voice in much the same way Wednesday night. Wait. How had he found her phone number? She jerked up. Her elbow hooked the towel, dragging it into the water. Shit! “Just a minute.” She fumbled with the wet terry cloth. Too late. It was soaked through. And plastered against her stiff nipples. “Tess?” he repeated, concern softening his deep voice. She anchored the towel beneath her arms to prevent it from skating around and destroying her precious bubbles. She leaned back against the tub, the jasmine-scented water splashing and her breathing choppy. In her rush, she’d positioned the towel width-wise, and the wet terry cloth hovered at the tops of her thighs. “Sorry, I…wasn’t dressed.” Her face warmed. His concern segued into libidinous male interest. “Now you are?” “Um, kind of.” “Too bad,” he murmured. The drenched towel rasped against her nipples, and a satisfying buzz centered between her thighs. She wiggled her hips, and the buzz deepened. Hmm. She’d never before considered the erotic possibilities of having a towel in the tub—but she did now.

Of course, she wouldn’t act on those urges. At least not while she had Jack on the phone. Unless, well, he could participate, too. She shook her head to dispel the hot fantasy. How had he found her? The fake number she’d passed him wasn’t anything like her own. The directory listed her as T. A. Sheridan—a far cry from Tess S. And she’d opted out of every online listing she could find. “I’m surprised you could reach me,” she said warily. His gravely chuckle spread through her. “I’ll bet.” She didn’t want to think about bets. “How did you get this phone number?” “You gave it to me, remember?” No, she hadn’t. And he knew so. That he’d discovered it should alarm her. Aside from Wednesday night, she’d never met him before. He could be a lunatic—or worse. Yet, something in Jack Halloran’s voice reassured her that he was quite sane. Recalling his affable responses to her botched pickup lines mollified her fears, too. If he’d wanted to take advantage of her, he could have done so Wednesday night. But he hadn’t. “Yeah, Jack, about that number…” She let her voice trail off. She’d circumvent the truth out of him, a handy trick learned in law school. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then the friendly tone she remembered from Danver’s returned. “Don’t worry about it. Women give me fake phone numbers all the time. That’s why I blocked mine before I called. In case you were toying with me again.” Despite a few loitering notes of caution, she smiled. As if any woman wouldn’t love the attention of a gorgeous guy like Jack Halloran. He probably beat back hordes of adoring females on a daily basis.

Relaxing, she planted a foot on the tub’s overflow vent. The loosening towel rubbed her sensitized flesh, and the warm, bubbly water caressed her bikinitrimmed mound. Mmm. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the bliss of her arousal. Her fingers yearned to move with the water’s flow, to touch, dip, stroke, indulge herself…just a little bit…please. What would be the harm? Jack wouldn’t know what she was doing, he couldn’t, unless she chose to tell him. A sensuous shiver raced through her. “And you’re a PI?” she asked, her voice sounding languorous in the steam-filled bathroom. “That’s how you dig up the real numbers?” “No. Your friend gave me yours as you were leaving.” “She did what?” Tess bolted upright in the tub. The towel slipped and jasmine-scented froth slopped out onto the bathmat. Chloe was about to become one very dead best fiend! No wonder she’d grinned the whole time she was here. She’d outwitted Tess at every turn. “You were ahead of her leaving the pub, so maybe you didn’t notice,” Jack said. “She said you experience temporary dyslexia when you drink and might have written down the wrong phone number by mistake.” “I don’t get temporary dyslexia!” Was there such a thing? “Then you admit you gave me the wrong number on purpose?” “I—” The towel drifted onto her lower legs. She kicked it partway off. She should drown herself. Here and now. Save herself the humiliation of dealing with the consequences of Chloe’s treachery. “Or was hitting on me the tequila talking?” Tess lifted a hand. “No. I wasn’t drunk, I promise.” Drinking and debauching wasn’t her style. That she’d hit on Jack while slightly buzzed was

bad enough, but when she slept with him—uh, if—she intended to be stone-cold sober. Well, not cold, exactly. Probably extra warm. Ooh Godddd, she really was going nuts. The point was, when and if they ever did it, she wanted to be fully aware of every delicious moment. With a studmuffin like Jack Halloran at her disposal, she certainly wouldn’t risk dulling her senses with alcohol. “Just tipsy, then?” he persisted. “More like emboldened.” His hearty laugh caressed her ear. “Tess S., you amaze me.” Her nipples tingled. She slid back into the sudsy water, re-covering rebellious body parts. “Yes, emboldened,” she stated in her best authoritative-lawyer tone. “Take it or leave it. It’s my final offer.” “I’ll take it. When would you like to go out?” “Out?” “Yeah, our date. You do recall asking for one?” “Yes, but…” Sinful heat danced in her veins. Here was her chance to prove Chloe wrong—for real this time. And what a perfect opportunity to quash her own doubts. She could have that carefree life she’d always envisioned. All she had to do was start by saying yes to Jack. She trailed her hand down her bubble-strewn thigh, and sensation arrowed between her legs.

As a matter of fact, she could start right now. Considering the signals her insistent body kept sending her, it wouldn’t take much to rev herself up again. Treat herself to some titillating phone action—and go a little wild. She was safe with Jack. Somewhere deep inside herself, an illogical but steadfast seed blossomed. She felt safer with a man she’d met three days ago than she did with her platonic male friends. She felt incredibly safe…and a million kinds of naughty. She deserved this. Yes, she did. She deserved to take him with her.

She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-anddirty.

Boots and Chaps © 2012 Myla Jackson

Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 1 Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots. Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki. Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them. Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath. Warning this title contains hot scenes with multiple partners, with a little BDSM on the side. Caution—it could melt your e-reader! Enjoy the following excerpt for Boots and Chaps: Audrey couldn’t believe she was getting away with her charade. Her body burned, her pussy wet with her juices. Having Jackson watch as she strutted her

stuff in front of his brothers had been so much of a turn-on, she’d broken most of her rules of stripping, and she was raring to break all the rest. Luke let go of his grip on her pussy and backed up a step, allowing more room for big brother. A thrill of adrenaline shot through Audrey, her core heating to molten hot. The twins were handsome with their dark Kiowa skin, high cheekbones and jetblack hair, and she wouldn’t mind making love to both of them. At the same time. But Jackson… She sucked in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. This was a man’s man. Strip him down to a loincloth and he’d fit right in with his ancestors, hunting buffalo, fighting wars and making love with his woman. His broad shoulders flashed in and out of the strobe, the light casting shadows, emphasizing the distinct muscular definition of his chest and arms. Her gaze dropped to the top button of his jeans, flipped casually open as if he’d been in the process of undressing when she’d begun her little dance. She drew him near and flicked the other three buttons from their bindings with quick, desperate strokes. As the last button poked through the hole, his cock sprang free, slipping easily into her palm. “Knew you weren’t immune to Kiki.” Luke laughed. “Hey, Mark, check out that boner.” Jackson jerked back, sliding out of Audrey’s grip. Mark swung a wooden stool into the center of the floor and shoved Jackson toward it. “Sit. And no jerking off.” He sat and growled at his brothers, his hands going to his open fly and the shaft jutting straight upward.

Luke cranked the music volume up a notch and danced toward Audrey. “Now that you have the birthday boy in position, let me help you out of that shirt.” It wasn’t what Audrey had in mind, but the angry frown on Jackson’s face gave her the courage to taunt him more, show him what he was missing. A little foreplay was just what he needed to make him eager to join the fun. Audrey tied the tails of her shirt beneath her breasts, a good start for a strip tease. “Did I give you permission to dress?” Luke shook his head and stalked her. “You know what the Gray Wolfs do to naughty girls?” Her body quivered as she backed away from Luke and into Mark’s chest. Jackson lunged forward. “Down, boy.” Luke clamped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and shoved him back on the seat. “You’ll have your turn. We want to get her ready for you. This is your show, brought to you by the brothers Gray Wolf. Sit back and relax.” Jackson growled again, his arms crossing over his chest, hands fisted. “Relax…hmph.” Luke grabbed the lapels of Audrey’s shirt and yanked it upward, extending Audrey’s arms high over her head. There he twisted the fabric, knotting it tightly around her wrists. She stood in the bikini thong, chaps and her prettiest black lace demi-bra, her breasts pushed up, ripe for the tasting, should any man in the room care to go for it. Audrey’s skin stung where the shirt sleeves had scraped across, the slight pain even more titillating than she’d imagined. She wanted more. “Hey, what if I want to play too?” She tugged, but couldn’t free her hands. As a woman who’d been in control for the past two years, she was struck by this new sensation. These men had her at their mercy, a place she’d rarely allowed herself to be. A

place she’d sworn she’d never go to again. But damned if she didn’t want more. She’d play along, just a little. Luke wagged a finger at her. “We are the masters. You don’t have a choice. Submit or suffer punishment.” Master. A wash of juices rushed through her pussy. Audrey had been submissive once. What had it bought her? Bruises, broken ribs and heartache. Her ex had shown her the worst side of a Dom-sub relationship. With Luke towering over her, her hands tied in front, her knees shook, but not out of fear. They were liquid with desire, her core tightening, her body screaming for release. Her mind rocked with the realization, her mouth watering for another taste of what was happening to her. How could she be so ready to fall back into that trap? “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Kiki.” Jackson’s voice cut through the jumbled fog of her thoughts. “I am my own master,” she whispered, her throat dry in anticipation. “Not in this house.” Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He jerked his head, indicating the exit. Audrey’s gaze skittered toward the door, her breaths now coming in short, rapid succession. She didn’t want to go. “No.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll kill them.” “I know my limits.” Her chin rose. “If I want you to stop, I’ll let you know.” Luke crossed his arms, much like Mark. “How?” “I’ll say crackerjack.” She laughed, reminded of the little boxes of caramelcoated popcorn. As a child, she’d had so much of the sticky-sweet, candied corn, she’d gotten sick. Could she have too much of a good thing by letting all three of the Gray Wolf brothers touch her? Last time she’d been surrounded by men

lusting after her, she’d been stripping for her rent money, unwilling to let her customers touch her. When she’d bought the bar, she’d sworn never to wear the mask, chaps and boots of her alter ego Kiki again. Never say never.