A photographer, a firefighter, a rake. Let the debauchery begin! Bandicoot Cove: The Wedding, Book 2 When Kennedy bolted after a mind-blowing one-night stand with a sexy Australian firefighter, she never expected to be standing in front of him four months later on a tropical island resort. Naked, thanks to her phobia of butterflies. Trouble is, she’s equally turned on by Luke and his hunky British cousin. Not exactly how she’d intended to spend her first day as Bandicoot Cove’s official photographer. Luke never planned on falling for the feisty, flirty American he met at a New York bar. Now that he’s face to face with her again, he has two questions. Why did she run? And why can’t he stop thinking about sharing the woman of his dreams with his cousin? Addison invited himself along on his cousin’s trip for a weekend of nostrings-attached sex. But he wants to get to know Kennedy on all levels. Seriously, this is no way for a rake to behave. And how the hell is he going to tell his cousin he’s interested in the very woman Luke can’t get out of his mind? Warning: The setting sun isn’t the only thing heating up Bandicoot Cove, because when the word “threesome” gets thrown into the mix, it’s seduction on a global scale. (Note: No butterflies were scorched during scenes of burning passion.)
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 Sunset Heat Copyright © 2012 by Lexxie Couper ISBN: 978-1-61921-107-0 Edited by Jennifer Miller Cover by Kanaxa 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: September 2012 www.samhainpublishing.com
Sunset Heat Lexxie Couper
Dedication
To Alison. A new friend who feels like an old friend.
Chapter One
See Aidan See McKenzie See Aidan and McKenzie get married. Dear Luke Beasley, Aidan and Mack would love to invite you and your “plus one” to bear witness to their wedding on Bandicoot Cove’s main beach, Saturday, four p.m. Dress is completely casual as the atmosphere will be relaxed and full of laughter. No top hats, tuxedos or stilettos allowed. Please come and share in Aidan and Mack’s special day as they finally formalize what the rest of the world already knew: they were meant to be together from the start. RSVP Kylie Sullivan Bandicoot Cove Resort Bilby Island Australia P.S. Luke, that tuxedo rule applies to you too, best man or not. (Although I’d love to see you in stilettos sometime.) Kylie
Luke Beasley dropped onto his suite’s plush white leather sofa, dumped his feet on the glass coffee table before him, dragged his hands through his hair and let out a ragged breath. Damn, who would have thought being a best man was so
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bloody tiring? He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, willing the tension in his muscles to ebb away. The last time he’d been so buggered he’d spent over fortyeight hours fighting a house fire: the very house fire that almost claimed the groom’s life, come to think of it. Good thing for Rogers Luke had been around, or the guy wouldn’t be getting married in two days’ time. Better remind him of that fact when he finally gets his arse on the island. That and point out just how much effort you’re putting into organizing his buck’s night. Guilt him into a beer or two at the Oasis Bar before the fun begins. Luke let out a low chuckle. It was a sound plan, if a somewhat devious one. Aidan Rogers had saved Luke’s arse more than once at a fire scene, so it was probably high time Luke saved Aidan’s. And as for organizing the buck’s night…well, the Bandicoot Cove Resort’s social manager was so damn efficient, all the hard work had already been done. Food for the night? Check. Music for the night? Check. Drinks for the night? Check. Entertainment for the night? Check, check and check. All pretty much taken care of, thanks to one vivacious bundle of efficiency wrapped up in the social manager’s uniform. All Luke really had to do was select which exotic dancer would spin around the pole in the middle of Bar Evoke’s dance floor come midnight. Okay, if he had to be honest, being tired had little to do with organizing Aidan’s buck’s night and everything to do with the gorgeous beach just outside his door, the stunning pool just around the corner from his door and the maniacal Brit currently showering in the suite’s opulent bathroom. Luke let out a wry snort. If he’d known his cousin was going to be his “plus one” to Aidan and Mack’s wedding when he’d received the invitation, he’d have started training for this weekend six months ago. It wasn’t until the man launched himself full tilt into the surf at Luke’s hometown, Newcastle, three
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hours after arriving from England that Luke remembered just how bloody fit his cousin was. And how competitive. Fun, though. Lots of fun. Another reason you’re so exhausted. Tell me, Luke, just how did he con you into participating in a dance-off last night? And when was the last time you spent five hours plus doing little but the Macarena, the Nut Bush, the Time Warp and the Chicken Dance? Luke chuckled again. Never. Of course, neither had Addison Ellis Lancaster, but that hadn’t stopped either of them. When it came to competing, the awardwinning wildlife cinematographer from London was an all-or-nothing player, even in something as ludicrous as a dance-off. God help them both if they ever lived in the same country. They’d both be dead from competition overdrive. “Head’s up, convict,” a deep voice called, a second before a damp towel whacked into the back of Luke’s head. Luke pulled a face, unwrapped the length of thick cotton from around his neck and tossed it back to his cousin. “Will you bloody well stop calling me convict? You damn well know my ancestors didn’t come over on the First Fleet.” The man grinned at him, his brilliantly white teeth flashing in the room’s early morning sunlight. He rounded the sofa and flopped his six-foot-two lanky frame onto it. “Says you. Just ’cause your great-great-great-great-greatgrandfather was my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather’s cousin doesn’t mean he wasn’t a criminal deported for his crimes.” Luke shook his head. “You’re an idiot. Tell me again why I brought you to this event when I could have brought any one of a bevy of beautiful women from back home instead?” “Because I’m blood, Luke. I’m blood. And blood is thicker than a bevy of beautiful women’s water any day.”
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“True that may be, but apart from that statement sounding just plain wrong, blood isn’t getting me laid tonight.” Addison raised eyebrows as dark as his hair—which was black and thick and glossy. “Is that all you Australians ever think about? Sex?” Luke laughed. “Don’t play the offended gentleman with me, Ado. It’s all you Poms think about as well. If I remember correctly, the only reason you became a wildlife cinematographer was to, and I quote, ‘impress the ladies with my farfrom-humdrum career’. How many times have you scored since arriving in Australia a week ago with the line, ‘I photograph wild lions for a living. What do you do?’” Addison tipped his head, acknowledging the compliment Luke had apparently given. “Many times, old bean. Many times. Probably as many times as you’ve used the line, ‘I’m a firefighter. Check out my big muscles.’” Luke grinned. Okay, his cousin had him on that one. When it came to picking up, being a firefighter pretty much was a dream job. “So, convict—” Addison crossed his ankles on the coffee table and threaded his fingers behind his head, his dark blue eyes glinting with mischief, “—we’ve swum, we’ve snorkeled and we’ve chatted up the waitresses, and it’s only ten a.m. What’s the plan for the rest of today?” Luke scratched at his stomach, the memory of the little cutie who served them breakfast not an hour ago stirring pleasant sensations in his groin. She was quite lovely and completely charmed by them both. Maybe they could head back to the bistro for some coffee before Luke headed to the island’s main dock? A quick flirt before Aidan arrived by seaplane? He shot his cousin a sideward glance. “Fancy some coffee at the place we had breakfast?”
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Addison’s lips curled away from his teeth. “That sounds like a fine idea. Think you can handle seeing me get the girl again?” Luke smacked Addison in the gut with the back of his fist, chuckling at the way his cousin jackknifed into a laughing, coughing ball. “Think you can handle being beaten by a convict this time?” Five minutes later, they made their way through the resort’s lush tropical gardens, heading for the Seaspray Bistro and the waitress who’d more than welcomed their earlier flirting. And stopped when a naked woman ran out of a suite’s open door directly across their path. A completely naked woman. Completely naked, absolutely gorgeous and totally familiar. Kennedy Collins hated butterflies. She knew it was a stupid, ridiculous phobia, but there it was all the same. Lepidopterophobia. The fear of butterflies and moths. Not spiders or snakes or sharks or axe-wielding psychopaths, but butterflies. Freaking flittery-fluttery little winged things no one in their right mind would be scared of. Kennedy was scared of them, though. Absolutely petrified of them. And Australian butterflies were worse. Who knew if they were as deadly and dangerous as the rest of the godforsaken wildlife in the country? Which meant she ran like a demon was on her tail when the multicolored little flittery-fluttery winged thing had flittered and fluttered its malevolent way into her suite through the open patio door just as she was about to go have a shower. Ran like the petrified lunatic she was, leaving her recently worn yoga clothes on the floor behind her, her heart racing, her mouth dry, her pulse pounding. Fled her suite like a wimp, away from the unpredictable menacing butterfly, any hope of rational thought destroyed by unhinged terror.
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Unhinged terror that now saw her standing—naked as the day she was born—outside her suite. Outside her suite, for Pete’s sake. Outside her suite naked and in the direct path of two tall, stunned men. Well, one stunned man and one grinning… Kennedy’s flustered thoughts screamed to a halt. God save her, the stunned man was Luke Beasley. Her heart—already smashing into her throat with abject terror—smashed some more. “Luke!” she burst out, throwing herself into the massive Australian’s arms. It didn’t matter that she’d snuck out of the guy’s hotel room four months ago after a night of wild sex and hadn’t spoken to him since. It didn’t matter that he probably didn’t remember her, due to the copious number of drinks they’d consumed in the New York bar in which they’d met. It didn’t matter, because there was a goddamn butterfly in her room, a goddamn butterfly, and he was a firefighter, and firefighters saved people, and she needed saving, and he was going to save her, and she was— Two strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, and Kennedy yelped. Her heart continued its wrecking-ball attitude in her throat and she plastered herself against Luke’s hard body. The butterfly? What if the butterfly— “Kennedy?” “You know her, convict?” Another voice joined Luke’s rumble, deep and cut with a crisp British accent, but Kennedy didn’t care. “Luke,” she all but cried, “there’s a…oh God, help me there’s a…” An image of the butterfly flashed through her mind, malicious and demonic and tiny and colorful, and her throat seized up. She clung to the man she’d had the most wicked one-night stand with four months ago, her mouth working but nothing coming out of it.
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Serious brown eyes gazed down at her. The hands on her arms tightened. “Jesus, Kennedy, you look terrified. What’s going on?” She tried to tell him. Tried to vocalize the words, but at the mere thought of the winged creature in her suite her belly knotted, her tongue thickened, and all she could do was shake her head and cling to him. “Is there someone in your room?” Luke’s expression turned dark. Dangerous. “Did someone attack—” His fingers dug into her arms with brutal pressure for a split second and then he was letting her go, spinning away to barge into her suite. Followed immediately by the other man. Kennedy staggered back a step. Her blood roared in her ears. A rational part of her mind knew they thought she’d been attacked by a person. That they’d stormed into her suite looking for a rapist. Instead they would find a butterfly and— Butterfly. Ice-cold terror sank into her belly, and she staggered back another step. Only to squeal and leap forward when her naked ass brushed against something soft and— Butterfly. “Kennedy?” Luke bolted from the room, his stare swinging wildly around her. “Where is he? Where—” She jerked her stare from the fern frond behind her and shook her head. No, her whole body shook. She stared at him, knowing she was naked, knowing she was ridiculous, but incapable of doing anything but shake. If only she could— “Umm, cousin?” Luke spun to face the other man appearing at Kennedy’s suite door. “Did you find anything?”
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The other man, a leaner version of Luke with dark hair instead of blond and blue eyes instead of brown, gave Kennedy a quick look. His eyebrows pulled together. “Not exactly.” Kennedy’s belly rolled. She tried to step away, but Luke stopped her, one large, muscled arm snaking around her waist, his other covering her breasts. If she weren’t so sick with fear she’d be grateful. “What do you mean, not exactly? She didn’t just run out of her room naked for nothing.” The other man flicked her a sorry look, his eyebrows knitting together some more. “Not for nothing, cousin.” He lifted his arm. Kennedy cried out, fighting against Luke’s arms, squeezing her eyes shut. No. No, no, no. She had to get away. From the butterfly. From the— “Steady, love,” the Brit said. “It’s just a towel.” Kennedy opened her eyes and stared at the wide strip of fluffy white toweling in the man’s extended hand. She let out a wobbly breath, reaching around Luke to take the towel. She gave the Brit a slow smile and wrapped the towel around her body. Her heart still thumped hard in her throat, her blood still roared in her ears, and her belly was still knotted so tightly she wanted to throw up. But somehow, with Luke holding her, his massive body just as hard and solid as it had been four months ago, maybe more so, she could hold her ground. Just. Luke’s fingers pressed beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Kennedy, what’s going on?” “She has a fear of butterflies, cousin,” the Brit said, his voice smooth and gentle. Luke’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “A what?”
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She trembled. Oh man, this was not how she’d anticipated her first day at work. When she’d accepted the job as official photographer on Bandicoot Cove, a job vied for by more than one professional photographer she knew, she’d never imagined the job would come with dangers. Nor bring her face to face with her greatest fear and Luke Beasley. All on the same day. “A fear of butterflies,” his cousin continued. “Otherwise known as lepidopterophobia?” Luke twisted about to frown at him. “Lepidowhatia?” The other man’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and despite the ludicrous situation, Kennedy felt a tight heat low in the junction of her thighs. She bit back a soft gasp. It had to be the situation causing it. The adrenaline rush, the fact she was naked under the towel, Luke’s reappearance in her life…what else would explain it? “Lepidopterophobia, convict,” Luke’s cousin repeated, his gaze holding Kennedy’s. “A fear of butterflies.” Luke swung his stare back to her, the tension in his face and body softening. “Really?” She nodded, a single, jerky dip of her head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She stopped, the shameful truth of the situation slamming into her. Oh God, she’d run from her suite as naked as the day she was born and thrown herself into the arms of an Australian she’d known for a grand total of four hours and forty-two minutes. And his cousin—a complete stranger to her—had witnessed the whole thing. “I have to go.” Fire flooded her face, and she ducked her head. Or tried to. Luke’s fingers under her chin made it impossible. She looked everywhere but at the two men. “I have a meeting to get to.” Luke’s fingers slipped from her chin. “A meeting?”
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She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped back from him. She wasn’t in control of her body at the moment. Fear and adrenaline were messing with her. What other reason for the way her pulse quickened to a frenzied pace at his closeness? Because he fucks like a demon, and you haven’t been able to forget— “I work here,” she blurted out, killing the unsettling thought. “I’m the resort’s photographer.” Luke’s nostrils flared. “Since when?” Kennedy swallowed. Why did his question sound strained? “Yesterday. I mean, today. I…I arrived yesterday and…and start today.” She looked at his cousin, her heart thumping faster in her chest. “Can…can you get rid of the but…butterfly, please?” A slow smile curled the Brit’s lips, and a distant part of Kennedy’s mind, the part not unhinged by the damn thing in her suite, noticed how sexy he was. “Your wish is my command, my lady.” He bowed at the waist, a grin playing with his lips, and then disappeared back into her suite. She stared at the open doorway. Partly because she was petrified the butterfly was going to swoop out at her on silent wings and flutter near her head if she didn’t. Partly to avoid looking at Luke Beasley. What did she say to him? I’m sorry I screwed your brains out and took off while you were having a shower? “Are you going to look at me, Kennedy?” Kennedy’s throat squeezed tight at his low question. Her breath grew shallow. “I mean, you do owe me an explanation, after all.” She gnawed at her bottom lip and tugged the towel higher up her chest.
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“One second we were talking about ordering room service, the next you were gone.” Dragging her stare from the cavernous interior of her temporary residence, she turned her attention to the hulking Australian firefighter beside her. His gaze was fixed on her face, his jaw bunched. He crossed arms the size of tree trunks over his equally muscular chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we had a connection.” He paused, a moment of discomfort flickering on his face. “Apart from incredible sex, that is.” Kennedy’s pussy constricted at his words, uttered with that sexy Australian accent that had drawn her to him in the New York bar all those month ago. Incredible was an understatement. The man had taken her to places she believed existed only in porn films. In fact, she was ninety-nine percent certain the people in the hotel room next to Luke’s had thought they were making a porn film, what with the noises Kennedy was making. But the night she’d met Luke was the night she’d been dumped by her boyfriend of two years for being too “kinky”, and Luke was Rebound Guy. Rebound Guy wasn’t meant to be Incredible-Sexand-Unexpected-Connection Guy. He was meant to be See?-I-Am-Desirable-SoStick-It-In-Your-Ear Guy. That’s what Rebound Guy was all about. And then Luke had gone and asked her if she wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty with him the next day and the word “yes” had been so damn close to forming on her lips she’d freaked out. Freaked out and run away. And now here she was, with him again. Thanks to freaking out and running away. There was a perverse irony in that fact, but she was too freaked out to analyze it. “Are you going to say anything?”
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The rough edge of anger in Luke’s voice scraped against her fraying control. She lifted her chin, meeting his stare. Damn, she wished she hadn’t. His gaze was as intense and focused and…and…as sexy as it had been four months ago. Her throat grew thick. Her pussy grew tight. “You were Rebound Guy.” The confession slipped from her before she could stop it. Luke’s eyes widened. His shoulders straightened. So did his spine. He studied her, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his stare unreadable as he opened his mouth to say… His cousin chose that exact moment to exit Kennedy’s suite. “Got the little bugger.” He stopped at the door, his hands cupped together, his grin wide. “A red-bodied swallowtail, to be pre…” A frown pulled at his forehead. “What did I miss?” A dry snort tore from Luke, and he shook his head, stepping back from Kennedy. “Nothing.” His cousin obviously didn’t believe him, based on his own snort—this one so close to a laugh Kennedy almost smiled herself. Almost. But she couldn’t. And not just because of Luke. Because of the creature in his cousin’s hand. Oh God, Kennedy. He’s got it. It’s there. Just there in his… She flicked her stare to the Brit’s long-fingered hands, still cupped in front of his chest. Inside that prison of palm and fingers was a butterfly. The butterfly that had sent her fleeing. Her pulse thumped hard in her neck. She licked her lips, jerking her gaze from his hands, to his face, to Luke’s face and back to the Brit’s hands again. “Can you…will you take it away…?”
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His lips curled. The mirth in his eyes turned to a smoldering interest Kennedy couldn’t miss, no matter how scared she was. “Of course.” He leaned one bent elbow on Luke’s broad shoulder, his hands shifting slightly as he did so. Enough for Kennedy to make out movement behind his fingers. Her heart leapt into her throat. And then pounded harder and faster when he said, “For a kiss.” Her stare snapped to his face. His grin turned languid. Sexy. “For us both,” he finished.
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Chapter Two
Addison watched the woman standing but a few feet away from him respond to his request. He’d asked for a kiss to take her mind off her fear, distract her long enough for her brain to take control of her phobia, but he had to admit to himself, he bloody well did want a kiss. Sodding hell, she was stunning. There was no other word to describe her. No wait, there was. Exquisite. Stunning and exquisite. And sexy. Lord, was she sexy. Confident and sensual even in the face of her greatest fear cupped in his hands. Even the towel he’d given her did nothing but highlight her womanly curves, curves he’d already imprinted on his memory. Inside his hands, the red-bodied swallowtail danced around, its delicate wings tickling his palms. If he could, he’d kiss the sodding thing for being so clever as to fly into the American lovely’s suite. Of course, a kiss from the American lovely herself was much more preferable. And by the way she was staring at him and Luke, by the very way her nipples had tightened to hard points beneath the towel wrapped around her exquisite, stunning body, a kiss likely wasn’t out of the question. And after the kiss… You do remember why you’re here, don’t you? Why you up and hightailed it to Australia and Luke’s home instead of being where you’re meant to be? In Egypt filming that documentary on the sand cat? That whole debacle began with just a kiss, remember? Addison’s gut clenched—a little—at the unwelcome thought of his last night in Egypt. Still, kissing an American wedding photographer in Australia was very
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different from kissing an Egyptian zoology student in Egypt, especially when said student was also the president of the country’s only daughter. A daughter who then declared Addison had to marry her or else she’d tell her father everything. Everything. Including where Addison had put his hands, his mouth, his tongue, his— “Both of you?” The American’s husky voice snapped Addison out of his unsettling thoughts. He grinned, drawing his focus onto the woman before him. “Both of—” he began. At the exact second Luke said, “Don’t be a bloody—” They both stopped. Addison chuckled, holding his cupped hands away from his body in a melodramatic show of chivalry and his power over all things butterfly in the immediate vicinity. “Of course, if you only want to kiss one of us, I am more than—” “Fair dinkum, Addison.” Luke glared hard at him. “Give it a rest, will you?” “Stop.” The semi-naked American—Kennedy. Her name is Kennedy—with the butterfly phobia held up her hands. “Stop, stop, stop.” Addison swung his gaze to her, his grin already in place. He knew the power of his grin. He’d seduced many a woman with its roguish charm. He loved his cousin like a brother, despite the distances between them, but if Kennedy was only going to kiss one of them…then it bloody well was going to be him. But they know each other. And there’s something going on here you don’t know about. Inside his cupped palms, the red-bodied swallowtail continued its gentle dance, reminding him of its contribution to the situation. Soon he’d walk to the closest flower situated in the resort’s lush garden and release it. If he let the thing go now, Kennedy would likely run away screaming, and he didn’t want that.
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Addison had seen lepidopterophobia before. If the beautiful butterfly in his hands were to dance on the air anywhere near the American, she would bolt. Or faint. Or scream. “She’s not kissing anyone,” Luke snarled, his voice like distant thunder. Addison gave him a nudge with his shoulder. “Speak for yourself, convict.” Luke pulled a face. “Shut up, Lancaster.” The response was exasperated, but Addison knew his cousin well. Luke was just as interested in a kiss from the American as Addison was. Which stirred Addison’s competitive side even more. And there was nothing Addison liked more than a friendly competition with his cousin. Don’t you think you should get some backstory first? The way they were looking at each other a moment ago, when you came out of her suite after catching the butterfly…there’s something going on here. It was a valid point. Still, Luke had never mentioned her, and if Addison knew one thing about his cousin, it was when a woman got to him, really got to him, Luke told him all about her. Not once had his cousin ever mentioned the name Kennedy. If he had, Addison would step away now. He was a rake. Not a bastard. “Is there any chance…?” The American stopped, darting a quick frown at Addison’s hands before returning her gaze to his face. “Is there any chance you can take that…take the butterfly away?” “Yes,” Luke said, and Addison was surprised to see a glint appear in his cousin’s eyes that bordered on territorial. “He’s taking the butterfly away now, aren’t you, Addison?” “Well, I was thinking of standing here awhile.” Addison chuckled, moving back a step to give Luke a pointed look. “You know, just until I find out how you two know each oth—”
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He tripped. Sod it. His heel slipped off the edge of the concrete path into the lush garden and he stumbled sideward. Not a lot, but enough to throw his internal equilibrium into chaos, and he flung his arms apart in an effort to regain balance. Of course, what did the red-bodied swallowtail do straight away, but flitter up into the air. It danced on the warm humidity in an erratic flight path…and came to rest on the closest surface to it. The creamy swell of flesh that was Kennedy’s towelconstrained left breast. Oh, sod it. She froze. Her eyes grew wide. Her face bleached white. She stared at Addison and Luke, her body locked stiff, her chest heaving with panicked, shallow breaths. The butterfly rode each wild crest and fall with slowly pulsing wings, its six tiny barbed feet anchoring it to her flawless skin…for the split second it took before Addison leapt forward and scooped the insect from her breast. Barely a heartbeat before Luke scooped Kennedy up in his massive arms as her eyes rolled to white and she fainted. “Well caught, cousin.” Addison nodded, unable not to be impressed. He cast the woman tucked against Luke’s arms a look, noting the absolute beauty of her features, the sinful perfection of her long legs and the sublime curve of her buttock, now fully exposed by the towel’s failure to stay cinched around her body. His cock stirred in his trousers. The butterfly beat against his palms. Sodding hell, he sincerely hoped there was nothing going on between Kennedy and Luke. Luke fixed him with a pointed look, the muscles in his wide shoulders bunching as he drew Kennedy closer to his equally-as-wide chest. “I think we’ve
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fucked this situation up as much as we can, Addison.” His voice thrummed with no-nonsense control. “Now take the bloody butterfly away while I take Kennedy inside her suite and try and fix what little dignity we’ve left her.” Before Addison could respond, Luke turned and strode back into the now butterfly-less suite, carrying the American with barely an effort. Addison watched his cousin cross the room to the white leather sofa sitting under a framed mirror of the same length, watched his back muscles coil and flex as he slowly lowered the unconscious Kennedy to its cushioned seat and then lower into a kneeling crouch beside her, arranging the towel to cover her naked body. He’s a good bloke, Lancaster. A better man than you. Luke was a better man. Had always been. A born hero to Addison’s born rake. Addison’s stomach knotted. The rake. Hadn’t he decided on the flight to Australia he was going to stop his lothario ways? That it was time to grow up? Hadn’t his bolt from the close call in Egypt ruffled him enough? His gaze flicked to the American beauty stretched out on the plush sofa. Her thick honey-blonde hair tumbled about her head in a messy cascade of curls, her long, dark eyelashes brushed high cheekbones, her soft lips were parted, the long column of her neck was perfectly flawless, and the rise and fall of her breasts under the towel made his groin stir. No, he was a rake, and as empty and self-loathing as that title was, he’d owned it since the day his balls dropped and his voice broke. He was the rake of the family, and a rake seduced women. Even ones connected to your cousin? His gut knotted again, an entirely too ambiguous emotion behind its presence. Guilt? Morals? Couldn’t be. He didn’t suffer from either.
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Turning from the sight of his chivalrous, heroic cousin taking Kennedy’s pulse, Addison walked away from the open suite door and deeper into the lush gardens of the resort. As soon as he released the butterfly, he would return to her suite and ask her to lunch. Perhaps offer to walk her around the island pointing out the abundant flora and fauna in an attempt to show her there was little to fear here. If there was one thing Addison knew better than how to seduce women, it was fauna. All he needed to do was find the right tree, with the right bird high in its branches, and he had the perfect reason to draw her face, her body close to his, one hand sliding around her hip as his other smoothed up her ribcage, her arm to her hand, helping her find the bird above, their bodies aligned as he murmured sweet nothings about the feathered marvel. Now all he had to do was find a Dutchman’s pipe vine in flower, release the red-bodied swallowtail and get back to the suite before Kennedy revived and whatever history was between her and Luke became an insurmountable obstacle. Five minutes later, butterfly released, he approached the American’s suite. And stopped two steps from the still open door when he heard moaning. Low, throaty moans. Moans made only when one was in the throes of pleasure. Looks like their history beat you to it, Addison Ellis Lancaster. Sod it.
Luke had no idea when he went from counting the unconscious Kennedy’s pulse to kissing her. Perhaps it was when his gaze fell to her lips, his mind remembering just how full and soft they were. Perhaps it was when his brain registered just how warm her flesh was beneath his fingertips as he pressed them to her pulse. Perhaps it was when his body reminded him just how naked and perfect and sensual she was under the towel by growing hard and stiff and
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bloody rigid when it had no right to do so. Perhaps it was when his mind reminded him how amazing and receptive and wild that naked, perfect, sensual body felt against his. Perhaps it was when her eyelids fluttered open and she gazed up at him with clear blue eyes, those soft, full lips of hers parting in a small, shy smile. Or perhaps it was when her hand smoothed up his arm, over his shoulder to bury in his hair before tugging his head down to hers and brushing her lips to his. Bingo. With a groan, and a solid spasm of his inconveniently engorged dick, he parted his lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Kennedy moaned, a wholly pleasurable sound he’d heard damn near every night in his fantasies for the last four months. She slid her tongue against his, her fingers tangling in his hair with steady force, her other hand smoothing up his chest to rest over his pounding heart. Bolts of liquid tension scored straight through Luke’s body, and he groaned into her mouth. He should stop. He should demand an explanation for her vanishing act four months ago. He couldn’t. Sure fingers found his tight nipple through his shirt, tracing it with exquisite pressure, and all thought apart from the basest, most primitive went out the window. He growled, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and he plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth, taking possession of that which she’d initiated. A distant, rational part of his mind fought to tell him he shouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation. Hell, she’d fainted not five minutes ago. The rest of his mind told him to feast on her lips, to fuck her mouth with his tongue. To claim her. Mark her. Take her. So she couldn’t vanish again.
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He jerked his fingers from her throat, hooked them in the soft cotton of the towel covering her body and tore it off her, capturing one full, lush breast with a greedy hand. She gasped against his mouth, her fist in his hair balling tighter. Shards of wicked pain shot through Luke’s head, the sensation far more pleasurable than he’d expected. As was the beading of her nipple against his palm and the throaty moan she gave him when he dragged his thumb over the puckered tip. He sucked hard on her other nipple, loving the way it pebbled more against his tongue. When she dragged her hands from his hair, down his back to his waistline, he didn’t hesitate but shifted his weight, allowing her access to his erection. Her fingers tugged at his button, releasing it with a savage pop. A second later, she yanked down his zipper. His cock, engorged and rigid, erupted from his cargos, poking straight up. She wrapped her fingers around it, pumping it with ungentle pressure straight away. Oh, Christ. The thought groaned through Luke’s head. He suckled with growing need on her breast, kneading the other with fingers a distant part of his fogged mind warned weren’t gentle. The building heat in his dick and balls told him in no uncertain terms he was going to come without much effort. Too many nights fucking his own hand to the memory of her sweet perfection. Too many days wishing he’d known her last name so he could track her down and beg for more. Too many hours wondering how a complete stranger could feel so right. So— “So when I asked ‘what did I miss?’—” Addison’s voice came from behind him, part chuckle, part growl, “—the real answer was ‘a whole lot of something’, yes?”
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Luke jerked away from Kennedy. Her fingers slipped from his throbbing dick with a scratch of nails, and he let out a raw groan, fumbling for his fly as he struggled to his feet. Addison watched him from the suite’s open door, one eyebrow cocked, his hands on his hips. “Ado…” “I…” Kennedy stammered. “I-I didn’t mean…” Luke jerked his stare from his cousin to her face. She was sitting up, her cheeks red, her hands trying—vainly, he couldn’t help but notice—to cover herself with the towel trapped beneath her butt. She didn’t mean? She didn’t mean what? To kiss him? For him to take it so far? For any of this to happen? Again? A low growl rumbled in his chest. Disgust poured through him in a river of knotted heat. He sucked in a sharp breath, unable to look at her. Fuck, where was his brain? She’d run out on him before, without a single word of farewell, and he was expecting something different now? Just because she was on the other side of the world, it didn’t change the way she behaved. Driving his blunt nails into his palms, he let out another growl. “Fuck this.” Without another word, Luke stormed from the room, brushing past Addison, his gut churning. He couldn’t be here. Not when he’d been such an idiot. “Wait! Please, wait,” he heard Kennedy call out, but he didn’t stop. He charged through the lush gardens of the resort, yanking up his fly as he went. He didn’t know where he was heading, just away. You bloody idiot, Luke. She took off on you four months ago without a word and here you are, playing tonsil hockey even though she called you Rebound Guy. Rebound Guy, of all fucking things. Since when have you been such a wanker? You’re here for Aidan’s wedding, for fuck’s sake. You’re the best man. The best man. Do you know what that means? It means you’re the one who’s meant to control the lunacy of the next few days,
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not contribute to it by bloody well mauling the American who called you fucking Rebound Guy. The thought punched him in the gut, cold and sour. Damn it, he knew better than this. Of course you do. That doesn’t stop you wanting her, it doesn’t stop your dick growing hard knowing Ado wants her too. And it sure as shit doesn’t stop you thinking about… “A threesome.” The term fell from his lips in a hoarse whisper. When Addison had suggested Kennedy kiss them both, Luke’s pulse had smashed into frantic flight. His gut had churned, his throat had thickened. As had his cock. Thickened in a sinful response to his cousin’s suggestion. Stopping at the edge of the path, he looked up, finding a strip of isolated beach stretching out before him. No one was on it. Not a soul. The low waves lapped at the sand in gentle caresses, the sound of their fall a soft roar. Overhead, the blue sky went on forever, cloudless and so cerulean it almost hurt his eyes. It was the most serene scene Luke had ever seen. And he felt like shit. Not just shit, Luke. Horny. You’re still horny. Hell, your dick is still as hard as a bloody pole and your balls are about to burst. He bit back a snarl. There was one way of fixing his solution. One surefire way. Kicking off his thongs, he stormed toward the waves. Hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt, he yanked it up over his head, throwing aside the item of clothing without care. The sun kissed his bare torso and it felt good. Hot and scalding away his disgust. His dick pushed at his cargos, a stern reminder he was still wanting the
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woman back in her suite. The woman he’d left with Addison. One taste of her four months ago hadn’t quenched that lust. One kiss five minutes ago had only fed it more. Another hot jolt of want surged through him, making his cock spasm. He ground his teeth and hurried his pace. The gentle waves splashed against his feet and shins, cool and exhilarating. He kept going, driving his legs against the swelling water. As each wave flowed around his legs, his thighs, his dick throbbed harder. His nipples pinched tight against the coldness, but his balls didn’t shrivel. His cock didn’t shrink. He was hard and horny, and he was staying that way until he fixed this. Another swell washed against him, over his stomach this time. It drove him back a little, enough to fire his determination. Two more steps and he was waist deep. Stare fixed on an oncoming wave, he sucked in a breath and dropped under its weight, letting the water surround him. Resurfacing, he let out a groan. He was still hard. Staggering a little under the rolling water, he planted his feet in the soft sand beneath him and closed his eyes. Damn it. What did he do now? His cock throbbed. Pulsed. His balls ached. An image of Kennedy filled his mind. Her taste filled his mouth. He’d never forgotten it. To experience it again… The memory of her kiss roared through him. Hungry. Wonderfully wicked. Demanding. Her tongue had moved over his with such greedy skill. A wave sloshed against his chest, knocking him back a step. He recovered, eyes still closed. Inside his head, he saw Kennedy naked beneath him on the sofa in her suite, on the bed in his hotel room. He saw her breasts revealed to him. He felt her nipple against his tongue, under his palm.
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His cock didn’t just pulse this time, it twitched with such aching force a low groan of pain escaped him. Steeling himself against the surf, against his lust, Luke drove his hands beneath the water and tore open his fly. His cock burst free of the floating material, distended and tight. He wrapped his fingers around its length, telling himself he was disgusting even as he allowed his mind to believe it was her fingers on his dick. He snared his balls with his other hand, his grip far from easy. Closer to punishing in its pressure. “Fuck me,” he moaned, squeezing his scrotum as he pulled on his shaft. Tight, hot pleasure roared through him. He pumped his cock again, harder this time, the side of his fist striking his swollen balls. Balls currently being mauled by his other hand. Pleasure rolled through him, sinking into his groin. Shards of pain threaded through it, an intoxicating mix that made Luke’s breath catch in his throat. He closed his fist tighter on his erection, pumping up and down, up and down. The cool water of the Pacific licked over his hot flesh, like a million unending kisses. His mind told him it was her tongue. His body told him it was Kennedy’s pussy. He fucked his hand in the ocean and let himself fall into the memory of her sweet sex. He pumped and pulled and kneaded and jerked, his heart slamming in his chest, his pulse pounding in his ears, his groan stripping from his throat as an orgasm tore through him. From his swollen balls, his engorged dick. From the very center of his body, up his spine, like liquid fire, over his body and down into his groin again. “Fuck!” he roared, bucking in the waves as his seed spurted from his cock.
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He continued to pump his length, a punishing mauling of his lust he could no longer control no matter how he wanted to. When the last of his release burst from his tip, he opened his eyes, staring at the low waves washing against him. The sky was still so blue it hurt to look at, the water was still calm, the sun still glinted off its rolling swell like diamond kisses. As serene as it had been before he entered the surf. And, despite the release of his pleasure, despite his orgasm, he felt more charged and hungry than ever. Whatever he’d hoped to achieve wanking off in the surf, he’d failed. He still wanted Kennedy. Wanted her. Ached for her. Christ, what did he do now? Go back. Apologize. Ask her to dinner. Lunch. Ask her for a drink at the bar. Hell, ask her why she left your hotel room all those months ago when it’s obvious there’s something between you both. He studied the distant horizon, letting the low swell roll around his waist. Something? Something like what? You’re being an idiot, Luke. She bolted back in New York, just like you bolted now. What’s that tell you? That that “something” is nothing. Besides, you’re Rebound Guy, remember? That’s what she called you, and Rebound Guy never gets beyond the unattached fucking. Anyway, you can’t take her to lunch, even if she said yes. Aidan is getting here soon. His water plane is due to touch down at twelve thirty and what are you doing? Standing waist-deep in the Pacific jerking off. Nice. Real classy. Suppressing a growl, he fumbled about in the water for his zipper and tucked his now-flaccid cock back into his cargos. What would his best mate have to say about the situation? Aidan Rogers was about as conservative as they came where sex was concerned. Hell, for the entire time Luke knew the guy—which was going on close to ten years now—the firefighter deputy captain had done little more than kiss a woman. Luke—along with just about everyone else in the world—knew Aidan had loved his best friend, McKenzie Wood, forever, but
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even Luke had to admit, no one ever expected the big guy to finally admit that to her, let alone pop the question. What would Aidan think of Luke’s state of affairs? Of Kennedy, their one-night stand, their kiss only a moment ago… Does it matter? It did if it came back and bit Luke on the arse. He pulled a face. Aidan had hinted at something pretty amazing happening here when he and Mack had visited a year ago. Maybe this island was all about amazing things happening for friends and lovers. But she isn’t your lover. She isn’t even a friend. She’s a stranger you had a one-night stand with. A stranger currently in Addison’s company. The thought made Luke’s stomach knot. More surprisingly, his balls throb. Unbidden, an image of the three of them flashed through his mind. Naked. Moving together. Fucking. He hissed in a sharp breath. Great, just what he needed. His less-thanconservative, deeply suppressed sexual appetites to rear their debauched heads at his best friend’s wedding. “Jesus, what is wrong with you, Luke?” His cock twitched, and he ground his teeth. A lot, it seemed. One minute he was thinking about the intangible “something” between him and Kennedy, the next he was thinking of a threesome? Turning his back on the horizon, he began to make his way out of the surf. He needed to cool off. The surf hadn’t helped, his hand hadn’t helped, and the idea of a ménage with his cousin and Kennedy sure as shit hadn’t helped. He emerged from the water in ungainly, powerful strides. The water streamed down his legs, his cargos so sodden and heavy they pulled at his hips like lead. Sand stuck to his wet flesh like a second skin, but Luke ignored it, making his way up the isolated beach. He wouldn’t go anywhere near Kennedy.
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He would leave her be. If Addison was still with her, well, good for him. His cousin had always been the player Luke never was. Perhaps it was better this way. It took Luke ten minutes to make it back to their suite. In that time, he remembered his shirt and thongs were left somewhere back on that beach, had passed more than one group of wedding guests already on the island, nodded at the bride’s brother, Mitch, and dodged an interrogation from the bride herself. By the time he’d wrapped his fingers around the door handle of his suite and slipped his keycard into the lock, he was close to being back under some semblance of control. Close. It helped he could no longer smell Kennedy’s subtle perfume on his skin, nor taste her kiss on his tongue. Letting out a ragged breath, he withdrew his keycard and shoved the handle down, ready to enter the silent refuge of his room. And saw the butterfly. A damn red-bellied swallowtail. Fluttering past him, its wings tiny instruments of black, white and red flight. Instantly, his body remembered Kennedy. All of her. Her naked perfection, her sensual smell, her talented mouth, her hungry, demanding, masterful hands. And he was horny again. Damn it.
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Chapter Three
“…incredible talent and I’m sure you’ll be blown away by what she delivers, isn’t that right, Kennedy?” Kennedy blinked. The question from Kylie Sullivan, the manager of Bandicoot Cove resort and her new boss, jerked Kennedy away from the thoroughly disturbing thoughts she’d been having about Luke Beasley and Addison Lancaster. She blinked, focusing her attention on the woman sitting beside her, and the two women sitting opposite. “Err…right.” The redhead grinned. The bride. One McKenzie Wood. Kylie had told Kennedy that McKenzie was as far from a bridezilla as they came. The very fact the woman—an award-winning journalist—was happy to have her wedding photographed by someone she’d never met before said something. “Just some fun candid snaps. Maybe one or two silly ones. Neither Aidan or I are posers.” The younger woman beside her—Bianca Rogers, chief bridesmaid and younger sister of the groom—burst out laughing. She was a tiny thing, with brilliant blue eyes, honey-blonde hair and a smile that said loud and clear not to mess with her. In a cheeky, friendly kind of way. “I would pay big bucks to see you and Danny pose for wedding photos. I mean, really pose.” She swung those direct eyes of hers toward Kennedy, her grin stretching. “Oh, oh, oh. Can you make them do one of those kitschy, ridiculous shots were my brother is removing Mack’s garter belt with his teeth? Please? Pretty please with sugar on t—”
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Bianca didn’t get a chance to finish. McKenzie shoved her off the chair. Literally, shoved her off the chair. Kennedy blinked again, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips at the laughing women before her. Well, if nothing else, the wedding was going to be a fun one. Maybe it would help take her mind off the enigma of her response to Addison and Luke. At the thought of the two men her belly flip-flopped and her pussy fluttered. Fluttered, like the damn butterfly that started the whole situation. The memory of Addison’s rather interesting departure from her suite came back to her. She’d scrambled from the sofa the second Luke stormed through the door, fighting with the towel to try to cover everything Addison had already seen. It hadn’t been necessary. Addison had been studying the open door. “Well,” he said, his British accent as sexy as Luke’s Australian one. “I didn’t see that coming.” He’d swung back to her just as she’d wrapped the towel around her breasts, a smile part apologetic, part…well, part roguish, damn it. “Having a nice bloke for a cousin makes things a tad frustrating at times.” Kennedy remembered thinking having a nice bloke run from the room in the middle of giving her the best kiss of her life made things more than a tad frustrating. She’d parted her lips to say something smart and pithy to explain the situation, but nothing came to mind. Smart and pithy had obviously run from the room as well. Addison had given her a slow grin. “Should I ask about what just went on? Or shall I let my cousin explain it?” Her face had ignited. If it were possible for her cheeks to melt with the heat of her shame, they would have, slewing right off her face. Instead, she’d let out a
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sigh. “We kinda…” The rest of her sentence didn’t come, trapped in her throat as it was. Addison’s answering chuckle still made the pit of her belly flutter. “So it seems.” And then, with another grin that set Kennedy’s pulse running and her pussy fluttering, he said goodbye, leaving her alone, wrapped in a towel, her heart pounding, her sex throbbing and she’d never felt more…more frustrated. The word of the day, it seemed. Damn it all, she was attracted to them b— “Kennedy?” Kennedy started. The dismal realization she’d zoned out again flooded her cheeks with heat. First day on the job and she was sucking badly. She turned to Kylie, giving her new boss a steady smile. “Sorry?” A slight frown pulled at Kylie’s forehead. “I asked if you will take black-andwhite images, color or both?” “Both.” She gave herself a mental slap. She was a professional. Letting herself be distracted by two guys—Two guys, Kennedy? Two?—was just plain woeful. Shifting on her seat, she reached behind her and procured the large portfolio of wedding shots she’d brought to the meeting. She was a professional, damn it. She didn’t daydream about sexy, cocky Brits and dominating, powerful Australians during work meetings. She didn’t. Of course you don’t. Which explains why your panties are all wet and your nipples are hard. Face it, Kennedy. You’re turned on thinking about them. Wondering if you can find them again. Suggest something no woman on her first day of work should suggest… Lifting her gaze from the leather-bound folio on the table before her, she smiled at the bride-to-be and the bridesmaid who was once again back in her
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chair. For the next ten minutes, McKenzie Wood and Bianca Rogers managed to stop Kennedy from thinking of Luke and Addison. They were cheeky and funny, and before she knew it, Kennedy was laughing at their banter. Yes, this was better. This was what she was here for. Not getting hot and bothered over Rebound Guy and James Bond. This was the way it was meant to be. Thank God the wedding was only two days away. With that little time left, she would spend the next forty-eight hours getting her equipment ready, unpacking her Mac, updating her software, charging the batteries of her cameras, planning shots and scouring the resort and local scenery on the island for the best locations to capture the joyous event. That’s what she was going to do. Not waste energy thinking about— “Who do you think would win? Aidan or Luke?” Every muscle in Kennedy’s body locked tight. Luke? She jerked her gaze from the crystal water of the pool beside which they sat and stared at Bianca, wondering why the pixie-like bridesmaid had uttered Luke’s name. McKenzie laughed, grinning at an open page on Kennedy’s portfolio. “Are you kidding? Beaso dragged Aidan out of a burning building and saved his life. There’s no way Aidan is going to let him beat him at that!” Mouth dry, Kennedy slid her stare from the laughing women to the image they were studying. It was one of Kennedy’s favorites. One she’d taken at the last wedding she shot in the U.S. before accepting the job here at Bandicoot Cove. An image of a bride and groom having a piggy-back race against the best man and maid of honor along Coney Island Beach. It was a fun, silly image, one she was proud of. But she couldn’t think about it. All she could think about was the names she’d just heard. Luke.
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Beaso. Beaso? As in Beasley? The Australians had strange habits when it came to nicknames, but surely Beaso meant Beasley? Oh God, was Luke Beasley the best man at the Wood/Rogers wedding? Was that why he got all strange when you said what you were doing here? He’s the best man. And you’re going to be photographing him, in his presence for close to twelve hours. So much for keeping your mind off him. So what did that make Addison Lancaster? Luke’s guest to the wedding? And why did that make her both worried and excited? God, what was going on with her? Had she left her brain back in the U.S.? “Kennedy?” Kennedy bit back a curse. She straightened in her seat and gave her frowning boss a wide smile. “Sorry. I was thinking about something special to do with the shoot.” Kylie’s answering smile said loud and clear she wasn’t convinced. Way to impress the boss on your first day, moron. “Well, if that’s it for now…” McKenzie rose to her feet. “Aidan’s arriving in twenty minutes, and I want to get ready for him.” Bianca burst out laughing. “Way too much information there, Mack.” McKenzie rolled her eyes at her future sister-in-law. “Deviant.” Kennedy watched the play between the two women, unable to miss how stunning the bride-to-be was. McKenzie glowed, radiant and obviously utterly in love. It made Kennedy’s belly clench. She’d never been in love but had thought she may have been well on her way with Max until he’d blindsided her. One minute the proverbial happily ever after was on her horizon and the next, she was single and in a bar in downtown New York, shell-shocked and ordering tequilas straight-up. Two drinks later she’d met Luke, and as impossible as it had
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seemed, she’d laughed, smiled and lived more in her four hours with him than an entire relationship with Max. What did that say? Connection. They’d had an undeniable connection. So why did you run four months ago? And why do you find Addison so damn sexy as well? “Anything you need to tell me, Kennedy?” Kylie’s question scraped at Kennedy’s fraying nerves. She swung her gaze around the table, prickling shame rolling over her when she realized McKenzie and Bianca were nowhere about. Hell, they weren’t even in the poolside café anymore. “They’ve gone,” Kylie pointed out, her voice serious. It was the first time Kennedy had heard the Bandicoot Cove manager sounding anything other than pleasant. Up until that point, Kylie Sullivan had treated Kennedy more like a friend during their many telephone and Skype interactions than a boss. When Kylie had met Kennedy at the island’s dock, she’d hugged her with such open ease it had spun Kennedy’s mind. Now, however, the highly successful resort manager was evident. Even if it was just below the surface. Kennedy bit back a sigh. “I’m sorry. Am I allowed to blame jetlag?” Kylie’s left eyebrow lifted. “Only if it’s the truth.” Kennedy fought another sigh. “It’s not.” Kylie settled back in her seat, crossing legs long and tanned. “Tell me what’s going on. Are you having second thoughts about leaving New York? The States? I know it’s a massive culture shock. Well, it would be for me. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything else you’d like in your suite? Your staff bungalow will be ready to move into as soon as housekeeping finishes getting it ready. I am sorry it wasn’t al—” “I just met someone.”
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Kylie’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. A grin pulled at her lips. “Wow. You work fast. How long have you been on Bilby Island? Less than twenty-four hours?” Kennedy shook her head, her pulse pounding in her throat. “It’s not… I mean… It’s someone I…someone I already know.” She stopped, her mouth dry. Holy crap, was she actually saying this? To her boss? No matter how friendly and warm Kylie was, she was still that: her boss. “He’s a guest at the wedding and we…bumped into each other.” Yes, apparently she was. Kylie’s grin curled a little wider. “A wedding guest? Who? I know everyone coming to the wedding.” Goddamn it, Kennedy, why don’t you just dig a grave and curl up in it now? She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip, nervous for reasons she couldn’t understand. Maybe because it’s your employer you’re talking to? Not a friend? “The best man. Luke Beasley.” Kylie burst out laughing. Just like that. Whatever Kennedy had expected her new boss to do or say, it wasn’t laugh. “Beaso? Oh man, really? Beaso? That is awesome. It’s about time someone nailed that guy down.” “I didn’t—” But Kylie only laughed harder, shaking her head as she straightened to her feet. “Kennedy, as long as it doesn’t mess up your work on my best friend’s wedding, go for it. The guy is long overdue for a good shag.” It was Kennedy’s turn to raise her eyebrows. Whoa, this was definitely not what she was expecting. She knew things were different in Australia, but this— her boss giving her the go-ahead to have sexual relations with a resort guest? Sexual relations.
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At the thought of “sexual relations” with Luke Beasley, Kennedy’s pussy contracted. She watched her boss weave her way through the mostly filled tables of the poolside bistro, smiling and talking to guests as she went. What would Kylie have said if Kennedy mentioned Addison as well? Did Kylie know if the Brit was overdue for a “good shag” as well? My God, woman. Are you seriously that kinky all you can think about is sex with two men? Perhaps Max was right to dump you. The thought was sobering. And unsettling. But man, think about the pleasure of being made love to by both of them at once. Both of them tearing off your clothes, both of them sucking on your breasts, both of them kissing you and filling you and— Kennedy slammed her portfolio shut and snapped upright from her chair. She had work to do. Serious work. Whether her boss said she could have sex or not with Luke Beasley, Kennedy knew she couldn’t. Not when she was also thinking about his cousin. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Carnal sexual attraction was all very well and good, but in real life, sexual fantasies only ended in heartbreak. She’d do better to remember that. And hold the damn thought until Luke and Addison left this damn island. Damn it, nothing like this would have happened back in New York.
“So what? You’re not going to tell me what’s going on?” Addison stared hard at Luke’s profile, waiting for an answer. His cousin’s eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses and the shadow of a New York Jets baseball cap. Sunglasses and hat didn’t hide the tension in Luke body, however, nor the bunching muscles in his jaw. Nor the way his nostrils flared. If they weren’t standing on the Bandicoot Cove seaplane dock waiting for Aidan Rogers
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to touch down, Addison would have grabbed the obstinate sod in a headlock. Luke had told him exactly two things about Kennedy. One, her last name was Collins. And two, they’d shared a one-night stand four months ago when Luke was in New York. That was it. Well, three things, if one counted the way his nostrils flared, his jaw bunched and his hands balled as fists by his side. Whatever was going on in Luke’s head, he was fighting it. Which made what Addison wanted to say to him all the more…tricky. How the hell did one tell his cousin he was interested in the very woman so obviously fucking said cousin up? More than interested. Like, couldn’t-get-her-out-of-his-head interested. In the fifteen minutes it had taken Addison to find Luke, back in their suite in a shower Addison suspected was ice cold, all he could think about was the American. The way she looked, the way she tried to fight her terror, the way she smiled with fragile confusion. Everything about her had awoken something in Addison he’d never suspected existed. A decent side. Bloody heck, he actually wanted to get to know her. What kind of rake was he? A confused one. And a loyal one. Because unless the convict here says he’s not interested, you won’t make a move. Lord, since when did he have morals? He glared at Luke’s stubborn profile. If only he could get his cousin to say something. Anything apart from “Leave it alone, Ado.” The droning buzz on the air told Addison the seaplane carrying the groom was approaching. With one last look at the silent Luke, he turned his attention to the sleek craft skimming over the calm waters of the small inlet called Bilby Bay, watching it maneuver toward the dock on which they stood. He’d never met
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Aidan Rogers. He was interested to see just what kind of man his cousin had risked his life for. When the door of the seaplane swung open, Addison wasn’t expecting a grizzly bear to emerge. He blinked, more than a tad taken aback at the massive man ducking through the exit. “Bloody hell, convict, I thought you were big. This bloke would make Stone Cold Steve Austin jealous.” Luke let out a chuckled snort. “Yeah, he’s a big bastard, that’s for sure. I’ve seen him lift a steel roof girder singlehandedly off a child in a house fire.” Addison couldn’t help but be impressed, more so by the reverence in Luke’s voice. Thinking about the petite pocket rocket that was the bride, he imagined Aidan Rogers lifting her easily off the floor. Interestingly, the image became a naked Luke and Kennedy in a heartbeat, Addison joining them in his mind just as quickly. Oh my giddy aunt, Lancaster, you’re in— Another man stepped from the plane and Addison’s mouth fell open. “Sodding hell, convict. Is that Nick Blackthorne?” The world’s most famous rock star paused at the open hatch, looking back into the plane. A few seconds later, a lush brunette ducked through the doorway, smiling up at Nick as she took his hand. Addison watched the trio head down the dock, the rock star casual and unadorned with bodyguard or an entourage. It was for Addison—who had travelled the world and attended more than one glitzy, celebrity-drenched award show—a surreal sight. Two seconds later, Aidan stood in front of Luke, his grin as wide as his chest. Which, in Addison’s opinion, was pretty bloody wide. “Beaso.” Luke grinned back. “Took your bloody time, didn’t you, Rogers? I could’ve stayed in the pool.”
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The man who inconceivably made Addison’s cousin seem wimpy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry to ruin your fun with my wedding and all.” Luke chuckled. “’Bout bloody time you apologized for that.” He turned to Addison, giving him a smile. “This is my cousin, Addison Lancaster, all-round cad and, unfortunately, my ‘plus one’.” Aidan’s large hand was engulfing Addison’s before he knew it, the man’s shake as firm as his biceps. “Addison.” He removed his sunglasses, his blue eyes warm and friendly. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Glad to meet you at last.” Addison laughed. “Dare I say don’t believe any of it?” Aidan laughed in reply, the sound deep and infectious. “Luke, Addison, this is Nick Blackthorne and his fiancée, Lauren.” Lauren’s smile was shy, but Addison couldn’t miss how stunning she was. “Hello,” she said, her voice soft and husky. Nick Blackthorne kissed her forehead and whispered something against her temple that made her blush. It was a beautiful sight to see, and once again, Addison was overcome with images of himself and Luke doing the same thing to Kennedy. Lord love a duck, Lancaster. Stay focused. He extended his hand, pushing aside the intoxicating thought of kissing Kennedy Collins as he shook the singer’s hand and smiled at his fiancée. “Nick. Lauren.” Nick returned the shake, smoothing his arm around Lauren’s waist as he smiled at them both. “G’day, guys. Nice to meet you. Luke, I have to say, I owe you big-time. If you hadn’t have pulled Aidan out of that fire last year, my last album never would exist.” Luke chuckled. “You’re more than welcome. Although I only did it to save myself the paperwork.”
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Aidan rolled his eyes. “See your humor hasn’t improved with all the swimming, Beaso.” Luke shrugged. “Blame Ado. He brings out the worst in me.” Addison’s pulse thumped a little harder. The worst? Like potentially sharing a woman? Is that what you’re thinking now? Nick Blackthorne gave Addison a narrow-eyed gaze. “Addison Lancaster, the wildlife cinematographer?” Addison dipped at the waist in a slight bow, shutting down the thought of a threesome with Kennedy and Luke. Almost. “That would be me, sir. Addison Ellis Lancaster.” The rock star smiled. “I’ve seen some of your stuff. That documentary you filmed on African rhinos was amazing. Most deserving on the Oscar.” “Thank you.” Addison turned to Luke. “See? Told you I was famous.” Luke shook his head. “Yeah, about as famous as your ego.” Nick laughed, patting Aidan on the back. “Well, big guy, we’re heading to our suite. Gonna unpack and take a shower before lunch. Catch up with you and Mack at dinner?” Aidan nodded, leaning forward to give Lauren a kiss on the cheek. “No worries. See you later.” With a casual smile and nod to Luke and Addison, the singer and his fiancée left, strolling up the dock, their soft laughter wafting on the air behind them. Addison watched them, a sharp pang of something tight shooting through his chest. Envy? He bit back a sigh. There was something wrong with him. Had to be. Perhaps coming to this wedding with Luke had been a bad idea.
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He didn’t get a chance to ponder the thought though, not when Luke slammed a fist into Aidan’s rather sizeable shoulder and burst out laughing. “Okay, Rogers, spill. How the hell do you know Nick Blackthorne?” Aidan chuckled, giving his shoulder a rub. “Mack and I met him here last year. In fact, if it weren’t for Nick, I never would have—” Whatever he was going to say next was cut short as a flame-haired woman barely half his size launched herself into his arms, smacking her lips to his. Addison smiled, watching McKenzie cover the laughing Aidan’s face in farfrom-chaste kisses. They looked so happy, so…so…content. What would it be like? To experience something like that? When the couple finally came up for air, the groom-to-be grinned, hitching McKenzie higher up his body. “I thought you were meeting me in the foyer?” “I couldn’t wait. You know it’s been three days since I saw you, right?” Before Aidan could answer, she kissed him again, the kind of kiss, in Addison’s experience, usually reserved for behind closed doors. Beside him, Luke groaned. “Get a room, you two.” McKenzie tore her lips from Aidan’s, her smirk wide. “Good idea.” She squirmed out of Aidan’s hold, linking her fingers through his as her feet hit the dock. “C’mon.” “Oi!” Luke chuckled. “Best man here, remember? There are things I need to discuss with Rogers. Buck’s night things, wedding things.” McKenzie tugged on Aidan’s hand. “Too bad. You can have him later.” She slid the grinning—and blushing, Addison couldn’t help but notice—Aidan a suggestive sideward glance. “We have some…things…to discuss ourselves.”
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And with that she pulled Aidan past Addison and Luke, a tiny wisp of a woman dragging a grinning bear behind her. “Sorry, mates,” Aidan threw over his shoulder. “The boss has spoken.” McKenzie laughed. “Of course she has.” Aidan chuckled, and as Addison watched, their arms and hands found each other, exploring backs and hips and arses as Aidan’s lips pressed to McKenzie’s temple, his smile evident to Addison even from a distance. It was the last straw. The last vestiges of his controlled decorum deserted him, shredded at the sight of two people so obviously in love. His gut clenched, his balls grew tight and, unable to deny what had begun the moment he saw Kennedy standing before him, naked and vulnerable and fighting her greatest terror, he turned back to Luke and stared his cousin straight in the eye. “Convict, we have a problem.” Luke met his stare, the knot in his jaw telling Addison his earlier tension had returned. “And what’s that?” Addison drew a slow, deep breath. “I do believe I am interested in Kennedy Collins.” Luke’s nostrils flared. At the exact second a female voice said beside them, “That’s interesting, because I do believe I’m interested in you too.” Addison swung to the voice, his heart slamming into his throat at the sight of Kennedy standing but a few feet away, her hands planted on wickedly curved hips, her direct blue eyes sliding back and forth between him and Luke. A small, almost shy smile played with her lush lips, and she lifted one darkhoney eyebrow. “Both of you.”
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Chapter Four
Luke wanted to punch Addison in the face. His fists balled at his sides in preparation. The trouble was, his body—his dick—wasn’t as angry at his cousin’s confession as his brain. His body was reacting completely to Kennedy’s unexpected appearance and his dick was reacting to her well and truly unexpected confession. He ground his teeth, staring hard at her. “Both of us?” His gut churned. When the hell had he stepped into a bloody soap opera? Soap opera? How about porn film? One you’re more than interested— “Both of us?” Addison’s refined voice made his stomach roll some more. He tore his stare from Kennedy’s face and gave his cousin a quick look. Addison seemed stunned. And more than a tad interested. And aren’t you? In what Kennedy is offering, aren’t you also…interested? “Both of you.” Kennedy’s American accent was stronger than before, and the words left her lips with a slight tremble. “I tried to fight it. I really did, but…” Luke clenched his fists tighter, returning his attention to her. Every fiber in his base male DNA screamed at him to voice the unspoken suggestion hanging between them all. Remember her confession back in the New York? Remember her fantasy? Maybe it wasn’t a drunken joke as you first thought? “I’m very interested in both of you.” Kennedy’s gaze moved from Luke to Addison and back to Luke. It was as direct as her words, holding Luke to the
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spot. His cock twitched in his cargos. His blood roared in his ears. “I’m sexually attracted to you both and think…” Her voice faded away, pink heat painting her cheeks. Beside Luke, Addison let out a slow breath. “Think what?” Luke swallowed at his cousin’s question. On one hand, he wanted it out there. The thing hanging between them. Threesome. Ménage a trois. He wanted someone to say it so he could stop wondering if it was just him aching for it. He wanted someone to say it so he could walk up to Kennedy, the woman who— four months ago—shared with him the best sex of his entire life, the woman who—an hour ago—told him he was Rebound Guy, yank her to his body and take possession of her mouth. Kiss her until she begged him to fuck her. Fuck her until she begged him for more. He wanted someone to say the word “threesome” so he could bury himself in her heat again, even if it meant sharing her with Addison. On the other hand, she was the woman he’d spent the last four months thinking about. The woman he’d tried to forget but couldn’t. The woman he’d seriously considered travelling back to the U.S. to find. If for no other reason than to ask her out on a date to see if the future he couldn’t help but ponder, a future with her, his one-night stand, was remotely possible. She was that woman as well, and did he want to share that woman with his cousin? As carnal and arousing as the thought of making love to her was, did he want to do it at the same time as Addison? The consummate British rake? “Think what, Kennedy?” Addison asked again. Like Kennedy, his accent was more pronounced. It was as if both their core beings had somehow been amplified by the tension of the moment. Luke wondered if he opened his mouth now would he sound like the stereotypical Aussie? Or would he sound like what he was: a man more turned on and conflicted than he’d ever been before?
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And would Kennedy hear that conflict and choose to go with the poised confidence of his British cousin? No. You can’t lose her. Not until you’ve lost yourself in her heat, her passion again. Not until you know if she is…if she feels the same connection you do. “Threesome.” The single word fell from his lips, low, almost guttural, and the moment it did, raw, concentrated lust surged through him. Primitive and elemental. Kennedy’s lips parted. Her breasts lifted as she pulled in a swift breath. She held his stare with her own, the blush in her cheeks growing deeper. “Yes,” she said, her voice husky. “A threesome. I want…” She paused, swallowed, her breasts rising and falling again as she sucked in another breath. “I want to be made love to by both of you. At the same time.” Fresh lust poured through Luke at her confession. He drove his nails into his palms, undone by the tumultuous tension wreaking havoc on his body and mind. He wanted to claim her. Christ, he wanted to make her scream his name in pleasure like he had in New York, and for some God-alone-known reason, the thought of doing so while Addison shared the lush perfection of her body only made his cock throb harder. Just as it made his head spin and his gut churn. He’d never been so confused. Or horny. To his left, Addison cleared his throat. “I think we can accommodate your desires.” The agreement—so formal and proper—made Luke’s balls ache. Here they were, standing in broad daylight on a public jetty, talking about doing what just about every hot-blooded man in the world wanted to do: fuck, and Addison sounded like he was agreeing to a game of chess. Luke shot his cousin a quick look and bit back a groan.
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Raw arousal burned in Addison’s eyes. Etched his face. And something else. Something…more. “I am interested in Kennedy.” Addison’s words played over Luke’s fraying control, their deeper significance only now, as Luke saw the unabashed desire in Addison’s face, sinking in. Addison wasn’t just interested in her sexually, which should have made Luke furious. Instead, it made him… What? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t let himself ponder it. He was responsible for what was about to happen. He’d uttered the word threesome, he’d given voice to the fantasy and in doing so given them all permission to succumb to their desire. He’d done that with a word and now he had to live with the consequences, whatever they may be. God help him if it was more than his stupid, foolish heart could handle. He turned back to Kennedy, and, determined to surrender to the undeniable sexual tension of the moment, he did exactly what he’d wanted to do the second she’d surprised them on the very public jetty. Crossing the small space between them, he threaded his fingers through the thick curtain of her hair at the back of her neck, framed her jaw with his thumbs, tilted her head back and crushed her mouth with his. She responded immediately. Her tongue slid against his, just as hungry as his, just as demanding. He groaned into her mouth, raking his hands down her back to cup and squeeze her arse. It was as toned and firm and round as he remembered, and his cock jerked in approval. He hauled her hips to his, wanting her to feel his hard-on. And Christ, was it a hard-on. His whole groin had turned to hot rock, thrumming
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with an urgent need that turned the pit of his stomach, the base of his spine, to a molten pressure. She moaned into his kiss, the wholly pleasured sound as familiar as the feel of her arse. It should be. He’d heard it every fucking night in his dreams. The dreams where they fell through the door of his hotel room and tore at each other’s clothes. The dreams where she rode his cock as he sucked on her breasts. The dreams where he licked at her hole and fucked her with his tongue. The dreams where he— “Err, far be it for me to interrupt—” Addison’s voice jerked Luke away from Kennedy. He spun to face his cousin, his breath choppy. “But I don’t think the jetty is the ideal place for what you have planned, convict.” Addison’s own breath seemed to be strained. He studied Luke with an unreadable expression before turning his attention to the woman they both desired. “And as much as I enjoy watching you two kiss, I would prefer to do so somewhere private. Where I can join in without fear of being deported.” A short chuckle slipped from him. “And these sodding Australians will take any excuse to kick a Pom out of their country.” A shaky laugh escaped Kennedy. She slipped from Luke’s arms, running her fingers through her hair as she put some distance between them. It wasn’t much. The jetty didn’t let her stand any more than a few steps away from Luke, but it was enough for him to see how affected she was by their kiss. And to feel at a loss for her no longer being pressed against his body. Oh yeah. You’re gone, Beaso. Hook, line and sinker. Straightening her shoulders and rolling her neck, she let out a sharp breath. “It’s probably not the best for the resort’s photographer to be necking with the guests out in public either.”
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Addison chuckled. “Oh, love. I think what you and Luke were doing goes way beyond necking.” A delicate blush painted her cheeks and Luke’s cock twitched in his cargos. “Shall we go to my suite?” Before Addison could answer, Luke shook his head. “No. Ours.” Both Kennedy and Addison gave him quizzical looks. “So nothing can come back to bite Kennedy on the arse.” Addison burst out laughing. “Except me. I plan on biting her arse often. And then kissing it better.” The absurd claim broke the stifling tension gripping them all. Luke let out a chuckled snort. Kennedy rolled her eyes. “You better kiss it better.” “Kiss it, lick it, smack it…” An expression Luke could only call devilish passed over his cousin’s face. “And anything else one can do to an arse.” Kennedy’s cheeks grew pinker. “On that note, I think it’s time we get off this jetty.” She began walking toward land, her footfalls on the wooden planks an echo of Luke’s rapid heart rate. She didn’t turn to look at either of them as they followed. If anyone was watching from the resort, it would appear just three people casually walking together. Anyone not witnessing their previous kiss, that was. Or anyone not within a stone’s throw. Anyone that close wouldn’t be able to miss Luke’s bloody rigid erection tenting his cargos. Without a word to Addison, he took the lead. It wasn’t a race. Nor was it a challenge to his cousin. He was just used to being the first one in. It came from being a firefighter for so many years of his life. He always went first into the fray. Yeah, yeah. If that’s the excuse you’re going with, Beaso, you stick with it. He shut the sardonic retort down and kept walking. Five minutes later, he stood at his suite’s door. He studied it, his heart rate still faster than it should be.
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Swinging his stare to the two people waiting behind him, he sucked in a slow breath. This was it. Once he opened the door there was no going back. He was about to share the one woman he’d been incapable of forgetting with his rake of a cousin. A man who more than satisfied any sexual partner he had. Was he insane? A masochist? Depraved? All three? He didn’t know. He just knew this was the moment and he wasn’t stepping away from it. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “Will it shatter my utter poised and charming appearance—” Addison’s voice shook a little, “—if I confess to being a tad nervous?” Kennedy laughed, her cheeks still pink, her gaze flicking from Addison to Luke. It was the undeniable want, the unabashed desire in her eyes that moved Luke into action. A desire he remembered from the very first time they met in the New York bar. A desire that reached into the pit of his belly. That cupped and squeezed his balls. A desire that made his heart ache and his soul sing. Her desire for Luke. Whatever was about to happen on the other side of the door, whatever came after it, he would always have that desire in her eyes. Now, however, it was time to feel it in her body. And in his. Cock throbbing, balls swollen, breath short in his throat, he slipped the suite’s keycard into the look and shoved the door open. Kennedy didn’t make it more than three steps into the suite—almost a carbon copy of her own—before Luke’s lips found her throat and his hands found her body. He pressed his body—so big, so firm, so imposing—against hers, his erection nudging her belly, an unmistakable confirmation of his want.
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New hands smoothed over her hips, down her thighs and up to her ribcage, Addison’s lips brushing her temple as he nestled his long, lean body to her back. “I’ve never shared a woman with another man before,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing gentle strokes against the underswell of her breasts. The hard length of his arousal pressed at the crevice of her ass cheeks. “But I can’t think of any other man I’d want to share with than my cousin.” He skimmed one hand back down to her hip, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her capris to inch closer to the junction of her thighs. “Nor any other woman.” The words caressed her senses, an unexpected reaction to what should have unsettled her. But nothing about this moment unsettled her. She refused to let it do so. Later. There was always later. Now…now she just wanted to succumb to the raw sensations sweeping over her. Luke’s lips nuzzled at the base of her throat, his cock a steely shaft at her belly. His hands raked up her arms to bury into her hair, a low moan sounding in his throat when she covered his heart with her hand and dragged her thumb over his taut nipple. The hungry sound sent wet heat into her core. As did Addison’s fingers dipping closer to her sex. “I suspect,” the Brit rasped against her temple, “when Luke finally stops fighting with his control, you are going to be in for the fucking of your life.” It was a strange thing for Addison to say, but whatever his intention, it only made Kennedy wetter. She whimpered, writhing between the two men. She teased Luke’s nipple again through his shirt, her other hand wriggling behind her back to capture Addison’s impressive cock. He hissed, his whole body stiffening as she squeezed his length. “Bugger me, love. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Keep that up and I’m coming in my trousers.”
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Kennedy’s head spun. The surrealism of the situation threatened to undo her. Two men, so different. One barely uttering a sound, his want for her deafening, the other whispering raw words that left her thrumming with elemental need. What a paradox. She parted her lips to say something. To tell them to undress her? To tell them to fuck her? Whatever it was was captured by Luke’s kiss. His tongue plundered her mouth, fierce and dominating. His sheer power made Kennedy’s sex constrict with a need so exquisite, so urgent, it was almost painful. She clung to him with one hand, her other still squeezing Addison’s constrained erection. “Not long now, love,” Addison murmured, the fingers of his left hand finding her nipple as the ones of his right found the curve of her sex. “I can tell. Are you ready for him?” His lips scored a line down the side of her neck to the curve of her shoulder. “For us?” She could only nod, and as if it was all Luke was waiting for—confirmation from her this really was going to happen—he hooked his hands around the neckline of her shirt and tore it open. Buttons popped free and clattered to the tiled floor. The sound of ripping cotton filled the room. None of that mattered. Not when Luke’s raw groan preceded his mouth capturing one of her puckered nipples through the lace of her bra. Not when Addison’s hand laid claim to her other breast, his fingers pinching her nipple, rolling it, before snaring the edge of her bra’s cup and tugging it aside. Her breast fell from the constraining lace, full and heavy with need. Addison’s palm covered it, kneading it with masterful fingers. She whimpered, driving her hips forward, wanting his fingers inside her as much as she wanted Luke’s lips and tongue and teeth on her nipple. Her whole body ached to be possessed, taken and claimed. Her pussy wept with sodden need. Her juices
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turned the crotch of her panties wet. She could smell her pleasure in every shallow, rapid breath she took. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to the absolute pleasure of two men adoring her body. And yet, at the same time, her heart hammered. What would it be like when they truly were possessing her? When both were inside her? When both were naked and all three moved together as one? God help her, what would it be like when Luke truly did relinquish control just as Addison claimed? Was she ready for that? Would she survive it? Had she before? The thought of Luke’s mastery of her body four months ago crashed over her, a hot wave of memories that tore a moan from her constricting throat. He’d brought her to orgasm too many times that night to count. Was he going to do it again? Any how many would Addison give her? The questions assaulted her, made her head spin, just as Luke’s mouth dragged across her chest to capture the breast cupped by Addison. The Brit let out a low groan, his fingers lifting her breast to his cousin’s suckling mouth. Luke’s hand closed over the breast his lips had deserted, massaging it with an urgency close to painful. Kennedy bit back a cry, riding the rising waves of pleasure swelling within her. “Please,” she gasped, shoving her hips forward again. “I need…something…anything…inside me.” “Fuck her with your fingers, Addison.” Luke’s growled order vibrated through Kennedy’s breast. “Make her come. Now.” “Pushy bugger, isn’t he?” Addison’s chuckle was strained, his breath hot on the side of her throat as his hand slipped the final inch to her pussy lips. His fingers stroked her damp folds once, a teasing promise. “Thinks just ’cause he’s a fireman he can—”
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“Fuck her with your fingers, cousin,” Luke repeated, and a shudder of excitement rocked Kennedy at the primitive domination in his voice. “Before I can’t control myself any longer and fuck her with my dick.” Addison’s fingers rubbed over Kennedy’s clit, the pressure sinfully hard, and then, before she could cry out a hoarse “yes”, he entered her. Two fingers. Deep and wriggling and confident. “Oh God!” She bucked into his hand, her shoulders rammed to his chest, her eyes closed. “Oh God, yes!” “Make her come, cousin,” Luke ground out. Addison’s fingers scissored inside her. She could feel their long length seeking the sweetest spot she knew would make her scream. It wouldn’t take much. She was already on the precipice. Balancing there. From the moment she’d opened her eyes in her suite and found Luke hovering above her, worry on his face, a face she’d never been able to forget, she’d been on the cusp of sexual detonation. Every desire, every need…all there, paramount in her mind, every memory of his prowess taunting her. And to know his cousin wanted her too… She was debauched. And about to come. “You’re so bloody tight, love.” Addison’s lips grazed her temple, the hand not buried in her pussy cupping and squeezing her breast. A breast Luke continued to return to with his lips and teeth. “And wet. I can feel your cream trickling over my knuckles.” A quake of wild tension stole through Kennedy’s core at his words. She gasped, knowing she was close. So close. She opened her eyes, needing to see the real world, to assure herself this was truly happening, that she wasn’t in a butterfly-fear-induced coma. She opened her eyes and gazed straight into Luke’s. “Going to make you regret running out on me back in New York, Kennedy.”
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It was the tormented hunger in his voice that pushed her over the edge. That, and Addison’s fingers stroking her inner wall over and over again. Her climax hit her, hard and unforgiving. She bucked in Addison’s arms, grinding her pussy to his hand, riding his fingers as she stared up into Luke’s turbulent face. Watching him watch her orgasm. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced. It messed with her head. It made her sex pulse. It made her pulse pound in her ears. All the while, Addison whispered how good she felt, how tight she was, how beautiful and perfect and sexy she was, his voice as ragged as her breath. Finally, she couldn’t take any more. The raw desire in Luke’s eyes was too much. The promise of what was to come too daunting. She closed her eyes and slumped back against Addison’s chest, her climax shuddering through her. Owning her. Controlling her. And all the while, Luke watched her. She could feel his gaze on her face, her breasts, her body. A caress she wished more than anything was as real as Addison’s caress inside her sex. Their time together in New York had been mind-shattering, had promised of things to come, but she’d run before those promises came true. She had a very vague, very fuzzy memory of telling Luke while still at the bar, after her third or fourth scotch, she’d always fantasized about being a part of a threesome. She hadn’t told him she’d been dumped by Max—faux-true-love-candidate Max, the bastard—for suggesting such a thing. She also had a very clear memory, after more than four hours of solid, mind-shattering sex, sex that worked the alcohol right out of her system until she was as lucid as a woman in the throes of sheer and utter sexual rapture could be, of Luke whispering in her ear as he thrust inside her, how he’d love to make real every fantasy she had. She very distinctly remembered coming the second the words left his lips. It was the last orgasm
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he’d given her. She’d run not long after that. After he’d asked her to go sightseeing with him the next day. After she realized he was more than just Rebound— “Oh, love.” Addison’s murmur against the side of her neck ended the thought, his words shaking with a relaxed chuckle. “I love the way you come.” She smiled, his honesty belying the explosive tension still hanging on the air between them all. She opened her eyes, preparing to be unsettled by Luke’s expression again. Oh, boy. He was naked. Not a single stitch of clothing covered his body. Nothing to hide the sheer perfection of his hard, sculpted muscles, the six-pack abdomen she remembered licking and kissing four months ago, the lean hips and long, corded thighs that spoke of a latent strength beyond her comprehension. Nothing to conceal the thick, venous cock jutting straight up from a dark-honey nest of curls under which sat a scrotum so full and round and oh-so-male, her mouth actually watered. Nothing to prevent her seeing all of him. All of him. When did he do that? Did she really care? He stood before her, not an ounce of shame at his nudity evident. Her heart beat harder, faster in her throat. She swallowed, wishing she could think of something witty and funny to say. Instead, all she could do was press herself back into Addison’s body, his erection nudging her ass telling her just how aroused he was by the situation, and stare at Luke.
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His eyes glinted with an emotion she recognized. Remembered. The same emotion that had made them shine when she’d drunkenly blurted out her threesome fantasy back in the New York bar. “You remember I’m a fireman, yes?” His question made her blink. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected him to say. Was he kidding? How could she forget? She’d had dreams of being rescued by him over and over again since she’d run out on him. She was always naked in those dreams. He was always wearing his firefighter’s helmet and nothing else. “Yes.” Her voice was shaky. Hell, her whole body was shaky. Thank God Addison still held her to his body or she’d be a horny, shaky puddle on the floor. The corners of his lips twitched a little, as if he fought a smile. “Do you know what Ado here does for a living?” Kennedy shook her head. A part of her was mortified. She was in the middle of what was turning out to be the most intense sexual experience of her life, and she knew sweet fuck-all about one of her partners. Another part of her was too damn aroused and excited to care. Luke’s lips curled a little more, as if sensing her ridiculous conflict. “Addison Lancaster is an award-winning wildlife cinematographer.” Behind her, Addison’s hands continued to explore her body, his fingers brushing her taut nipple, his palm keeping her ass firm against his rigid cock. “Personally, I think my career is sexier,” he noted in her ear, his lips tickling her skin. Luke chuckled. “Not the point, cousin. The point I’m making is that both of us, due to various requirements of our work, are used to dealing with out-ofcontrol things, if needed.” Kennedy’s pussy constricted at the claim. Tight. Fast. Hot, demanding need flooded through her. If she hadn’t only just had an orgasm she’d believe she was
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starving for release, the way her sex, her body was behaving. But then that was the way Luke had made her feel four months ago. Why would it be any different now? And with Addison’s hands and cock doing all sorts of wicked things to her senses… She was starving. Oh God, she wanted to come. Badly. The smile that had been playing with Luke’s lips finally broke. He flicked his gaze over Kennedy’s shoulder and grinned at his cousin. “Ever see me use a fireman’s hold, Ado?” Kennedy felt Addison’s chuckle vibrate through his chest into her back. For reasons she couldn’t hope to fathom, it made her pussy constrict again. “I don’t think I—” He didn’t finish. Without a word of warning, Luke snaked his arms around Kennedy’s waist and threw her over his shoulder.
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Chapter Five
Addison watched Luke stride through the suite toward the bedroom, his breath rapid, his blood roaring in his ears. He had to give it to the convict; the man was strong. There didn’t seem to be any effort on his behalf to carry Kennedy, a laughing Kennedy, Addison noted, across his shoulders. Just as there didn’t seem to be any effort on his behalf to take complete and total control of the situation. That didn’t surprise Addison. Luke may seem like a laid-back chap most of the time, but laid-back chaps were rarely in positions of leadership like captains of the fire brigade. And Luke had always been a man who went after something he wanted. It was a family trait. That Luke wanted Kennedy was a bloody given. The way you want her? The question whispered in Addison’s mind. He couldn’t answer it. For starters, he didn’t want to. Not yet. Later. Later was always good. He crossed the suite to Luke’s bedroom. He’d never played second fiddle to anyone during sex. He was always in charge. Rakes never relinquished control of the situation, another family trait, but with Luke taking charge of this situation, Addison couldn’t help but wonder how content he was to go with the flow. There had to be a deeper significance to that, but if there was, Addison wasn’t interested. He chuckled. Two things he should be pondering, and he was happy to ignore both. Perhaps he was more of a laid-back chap than he realized?
Lexxie Couper
Sod it, the whole day has thrown you for a loop. You have no bloody clue who the hell you are anymore, do you? Another chuckle slipped from him. He did. He was the man about to share with his cousin the most mesmerizing woman he’d ever met. For the moment, that was enough. He crossed the threshold of Luke’s room just in time to witness his cousin toss Kennedy onto the wide bed and strip her trousers from her body. The sight—utterly primitive as it was—stirred something equally primitive and instinctual in Addison. His cock, already a bloody rod of impatient need, throbbed. Lord love a duck, it wasn’t going to take much for him to blow his load at this point. All it would take was one touch from Kennedy’s fingers on his dick, one feathering caress of her breath, and he was likely a goner. “Your plan, convict?” His question made Kennedy gasp. She shuffled herself on the middle of the bed, her stare moving from Luke to Addison. Her breath was shallow, rapid. Her lips parted. A high flush painted her cheeks again, her nipples twin points of obvious desire, one revealed to the room by her disturbed bra, the other still straining against the lace. “I’ll let Kennedy decide,” Luke answered, and Addison didn’t miss the rough edge to his voice. He was as close to losing control of his lust as he could be. With a grin, Addison dipped a bow to the woman on the bed. “Well, my lady? We are at your command.” Kennedy let out a hitching whimper at his statement, a statement designed to make her hot with desire. Luke groaned from the side of the bed, his cock— thicker and stiffer than Addison thought possible—jerking.
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“Or,” Addison continued, slowly approaching the bed, “we could just turn you into our sexual slave. Which would you prefer? To command us, to command Luke? Or to be at his complete and utter mercy?” “His mercy,” Kennedy gasped. “I want to be his sexual slave. Your sexual slave. Please.” Luke’s swift intake of breath told Addison his cousin liked her answer. As did the sudden spasm claiming Luke’s engorged shaft. Seriously, how did the bloke stay standing on his feet with that much sodding blood loss to his head? He turned his attention back to Kennedy, reveling in the open need burning in her eyes. He’d created that. “Slave, it is.” As if Addison’s words were all he was waiting for, Luke bent at the waist and took her nipple, the one exposed to the room, in his mouth. Just like that. Without warning, without preamble. Kennedy hissed, her spine arching, thrusting her breasts upward. Her hands fisted the silk duvet beneath her, her eyes closing and her head falling backward. It was singularly the most exquisite scene Addison had ever witnessed. His cock pulsed, straining against the material of his shorts. The urge to release his fly and pump his shaft surged through him, the ache in his balls encouraging that line of action, but he held firm. Not until he heard her come. Approaching the bed, he watched his cousin suckle on her breast, the sounds of her throaty whimpers pushing him closer to the edge. “You have such perfect breasts, love.” He smoothed his hand over her shin as he watched Luke feast on her nipple. “Do you enjoy having them sucked?” “Oh yes,” she groaned. She let out a strangled moan, her back arching again, her fingers burying in Luke’s hair. But only for a second. Only for the time it took before Luke lifted his
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head and turned his inspection to her newly exposed folds. “Fuck me, Ado, she’s wet. I can see her juices on her pussy. So wet. So…” Whatever he was going to say never formed on his lips. Instead, he bent his head to Kennedy’s sex and stroked his tongue over her flesh. Had Addison thought the earlier sight of his cousin sucking on her nipple exquisite? That was nothing compared to the sight of Luke fucking her with his tongue. Nothing. A thick spasm claimed Addison’s cock, and he ground his teeth. Who would have thought the family rake could be so…surprised? Kennedy couldn’t stop her ragged moan. Nor could she stop her hands seeking Luke’s head, his hair. She wanted him to stay there. How could she not? She knew how phenomenal he was at making her come with his tongue and mouth. Just thinking about it pushed her closer to the precipice. But this time, there was more: her body’s undeniable response to Addison’s charm and sexual confidence, her pounding heart, her constricting, throbbing sex, her shallow breath, her hot, greedy need gnawing at the pit of her belly. She closed her eyes again, surrendering to the pleasure the two men were awakening in her. She didn’t think it possible to be so aroused from being at someone else’s mercy. But there was no fear, no doubt. Just pure, elemental desire. This was everything she’d imagined a threesome to be and more. So much more. New lips closed over her nipple, the one still trapped behind the lace of her bra. She cried out, the unexpected sensation making her tremble. Luke’s tongue lapped at her clit with greater pressure, his moans vibrating through her sex into
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her very core. Addison suckled on her breast, his hands roaming her ribcage, her belly, her other breast. Oh my God. Oh my God, Kennedy, this is…this is… The lips left her nipple before the delirious thought could finish forming, sliding to her other breast. Luke’s mouth left her sodden pussy lips, replaced by his firm fingers. “So wet.” He brushed them over the seam of her sex. Brushing, slipping and wriggling and stroking… “Oh yes,” Kennedy cried. Or maybe she moaned. She wasn’t sure. Not when Luke’s talented fingers found the most delicious spot inside her. Not when the realization she was right there, on the bed, naked and at their mercy, crashed over her. Oh yes. It was really happening. Her pussy constricted, gripping Luke’s fingers. She sucked in a hitching breath, fighting the waves of pleasure rolling through her. How could she be so close to coming already? “Fuck, convict. This is… She is…” Addison’s hoarse murmur sounded on her right, and she lifted her stare to his face. His gaze was roaming over her body, his eyes ablaze with a desire she felt in the very core of her sex. Gone was the roguish, confident Brit who’d made her belly tremble with his sexy charm. In his place was a man reduced to sheer carnal need. It frightened her. And flooded her pussy with wet want even more. “She is,” Luke murmured back. Like his cousin, raw desire burned in Luke’s eyes. Eyes that promised Kennedy everything she remembered and more. Without another word, he climbed onto the bed, positioned himself between her spread thighs and claimed her pussy with his mouth. Just as Addison captured her nipple with his mouth.
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They worked her body that way; Luke fucking her with his tongue and teeth, Addison feasting on her breasts, first one and then the other. Bringing her so close to orgasm more than once. Every time she cried out, a tremble rolling through her, Luke would withdraw his tongue from her folds, and Addison would raise his mouth from her breasts. They teased her, tormented her, building her impending climax with such perfect synchronicity it was all she could do not to beg and plead for more. For release. “Oh yes,” she cried out when Luke’s tongue slid from her pussy once more, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as Addison’s mouth charted a path from her breast down to her navel, “please, please, I can’t… I need to… Please make me come. I need to…to come.” “So do I, love,” Addison groaned. “But the convict is in charge here.” Kennedy jerked her stare to Luke, her heart skipping a beat when she found him studying her from between her legs. His expression was unreadable, his nostrils flaring. An emotion boiled in his eyes she couldn’t decipher. A question? A demand? She didn’t know. He stared at her, jaw bunching, and then murmured, “The Statue of Liberty wasn’t the same without you.” The words struck her, the lost time, the lost pleasure of their meaning hitting her hard. Four months of time, four months of pleasure, lost to them both because she’d run. She stared at him, her climax throbbing deep within her, the one threatening to detonate in her soul. She stared at him, ached for him, and bit back a sob of wanton relief when he lowered his head to the junction of her thighs and thrust his tongue inside her sex.
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Her orgasm didn’t just detonate. It destroyed her. Shattered her. Tore her apart and remade her. She bucked into Luke’s mouth, a distant part of her mind aware Addison suckled on her breasts again, aware he was fisting his newly freed erection. Aware Luke did the same between her spread legs. But for a moment of frozen time, nothing else mattered except the sheer carnal pleasure of her release. Nothing else mattered except the orgasm shuddering through her body, possessing her. An orgasm she’d denied over and over again by her own stupidity four months ago. Luke wanted to sink into Kennedy’s tight heat. He wanted to straighten from between her legs, yank her hips off the bed and slam into her pussy. He wanted to feel her exquisite, slick walls squeeze his dick. His cock was so engorged it burned with pain at the mere caress of air on its stretched flesh, let alone the punishing grip of his hand. His sac felt like it was about to rupture. Christ, was he in this state because of the situation? The threesome? Or because he’d been deprived of Kennedy’s body, her laughter, her smile for almost one hundred and twenty days? He wished he knew. If he knew he’d be able to know what came next. If he knew he’d be able to prepare for what happened after this moment. But he didn’t. All he knew was he was drowning in lust, burning with desire, and the woman whose cream coated his tongue and chin was responsible. He’d never wanted to be inside a woman like he wanted to be inside her. Never wanted to satisfy one like he wanted to satisfy Kennedy. Never wanted to surrender to one like he did her. “Going to get us some condoms.” It was Addison’s rasping statement that lifted his mouth from Kennedy’s still-wet sex. He stared down into her face, loving the unadulterated pleasure
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softening her features. Damn, he wanted to be responsible for that expression every time. The thought of anyone else… What about Addison? He turned his gaze to his cousin. Addison was studying him, hand whiteknuckled as he gripped his swollen erection, his expression as turbulent as Luke felt. Oh, Beaso…what have you got yourself into here? As with so many of his mental questions since Kennedy had returned to his life, he had no answer. Just a need to sink into her heat and hold her forever. “Because you may have the control of a sodding monk, convict,” Addison went on, a choked chuckle in the words, “but I’m this close to shooting my load, and I’d rather do it with as much British panache and poise as possible.” A shaky laugh escaped Kennedy. “I have a solution.” Luke’s gut tightened. His balls throbbed. A burning need for release sizzled the base of his spine. A monk, he definitely was not. “If you sing the Star Spangled Banner,” Addison said, “I’m going to be very disappointed.” He gave her a grin. “And deflated.” Lips curling, she slid her gaze to Luke and back to Addison. “Trust me.” Luke’s cock pulsed in his fist, his fingers damp with the beads of precome leaking from its tip. Whatever Kennedy was going to do, his body was already anticipating it. The pit of his stomach churned. A deep, primitive thrill threaded through him. She repositioned herself on her knees before Addison, her hand reaching for his fist-choked dick. The second her fingers touched Addison’s, he let out a groan. As did Luke. There was no denying what she was going to do to his cousin now. Which left him where?
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As if hearing his silent question, Kennedy shot him a quick look over her shoulder. Luke’s breath caught in his throat. Her request was plain in her eyes. He didn’t need to see her flick her gaze toward her hips and back to him again to know what she wanted him to do. Take her. Enter her. Fill her. “Where are those fucking condoms, Ado?” he ground out, fresh, brutal need surging through him. “In the…” Addison’s answer disintegrated into a drawn-out groan. Luke bit back his own groan, the sight of Kennedy’s lips sliding down his cousin’s length almost undoing him. Jealousy roared through him. Jealousy and lust and desire. “Oh my God, love.” Addison buried his hands in the tumbled waves of Kennedy’s hair, his head lolling back, his eyes closed. “You have the most exquisite mouth.” It was too much for Luke. Too much. He couldn’t wait for Addison to get the condoms from his luggage. He wanted to be inside her. Now. Spinning on his heel, he stormed into the other room for his discarded cargos. His wallet was in his back pocket. He needed it. The sounds of Addison’s groans, punctuated by Kennedy’s low moans, played over Luke’s senses as he snatched up his cargos. He yanked his wallet out of the back right pocket and flipped it open, his body thrumming. Every nerve ending was on fire, ready, impatient for what he was about to do. He withdrew the square condom packet with shaking fingers. Raised it to his teeth. Tore it open. Pulled out the prelubricated sheath. Walking back to Addison and Kennedy, he almost dropped the bloody condom in his haste to slide it down over his straining dick.
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Where’s the controlled firefighter now, Beaso? The man never unsettled by anything? Here. Right here. Watching the woman he was damn near in love with giving head to his cousin, a man he loved more like a brother. Just when he didn’t think his fingers were going to behave, that he was going to tear the condom trying to get the fucking thing over the distended head of his cock, Kennedy withdrew her mouth from Addison’s wet length and gave him an almost shy look. “Please, Luke.” Her voice was a whispered breath. “I need you inside me.” The plea was all it took. Without further hassle, his brain took charge of his fingers. He rolled the condom down the length of his erection and then crossed the room to the bed. Climbing onto the mattress, he sank his shaft into Kennedy’s tight, hot pussy with one fierce, hard thrust. She moaned in response. “Fuck, love,” Addison groaned, gazing down at the back of her head. “Hum like that again and I’ll—” Kennedy moaned, louder this time, pushing back onto Luke’s pumping cock as she did so. Addison let out a raw curse. As did Luke. He drove into Kennedy’s cunt and back out, pumping deeper with every penetrating thrust. His head swam, the gripping sensation of her sex around his buried length an exquisite memory he’d craved for so long. Too long. “She sucks like a demon, convict.” Addison’s running commentary pumped fresh steel into Luke’s cock. “Her tongue…her teeth… Christ, I think she’s going to swallow my fucking balls…”
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Luke slammed into Kennedy’s sex, so close to the edge every fiber in his body ached. Not much longer. Scalding heat was twisting around the base of his spine, spreading through his groin. Sinking fingers of electricity into his anus. He bent forward, smoothing a hand over Kennedy’s bare back, around her ribcage, the sight of her hanging breasts too much to ignore. He snared one in a loose hold, the soft slap of its full weight against his palm and fingers as she rocked back and forth with his thrusts only adding to the tension rapidly threatening to overwhelm him. She whimpered at his touch, her rock-hard nipple grazing his palm, her sex squeezing his cock. Squeezing. Squeezing. “Christ, oh Christ, Luke, she’s…”Addison’s groan tore at Luke’s fraying control. “Ah, fuck, she’s licking my balls. My fucking cock is in her mouth and she’s licking my…ahh, fuck!” Kennedy’s pussy constricted just as Addison threw back his head and let out a roar, his hips bucking, his groin pressing to her face. They’re coming, Luke. The thought crashed through Luke’s pleasure-fogged mind, powerful and explosive. They’re coming. They’re coming and so can— His orgasm ripped through him, from his swollen balls, from his soul, from the very core of his existence. He came, his seed pumping from his thrusting cock, filling the condom. Rhythm deserted him. He pressed his chest to Kennedy’s back, squeezing her breast, fucking her sex, and came, every spurting wad telling him what he knew beyond doubt. He never wanted to make love to another woman again. Ever.
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“Well, there goes my reputation for being suave and poised.” It was Addison’s chuckled statement that lifted Luke’s face from Kennedy’s back. He looked up at his cousin, the fading throb of his climax pulsing through him. “Don’t worry.” Kennedy shifted, slowly rising to her knees. “I won’t tell anyone.” Luke ground his teeth, the wicked drawing sensation of her pussy sliding over his spent cock almost torturous. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in its potent effect on his body. “It’s not you I’m worried about, love,” Addison answered. “It’s the sleeping convict over there.” “I’m going to tell the whole bloody world,” Luke said without opening his eyes. He wanted to live in this moment for a while longer. The scent of Kennedy’s pleasure in his breath, Addison’s laughter in his ears. He’d never imagined he could feel so relaxed, so content. “Addison Ellis Lancaster turns into a gibbering idiot when having a climax.” Something soft smacked into his face. He staggered back a step, Kennedy’s giggles playing with his senses as his hands instinctually grabbed at whatever had struck him before it fell to the floor. A pillow. He flicked a quick look at Addison. “You’re dead, mate.” His cousin grinned. “Try it. I wrestle tigers for a living.” Luke rolled his eyes. “No, you bloody don’t. You take photos of—” Another pillow smacked into him. “Time out.” Kennedy shuffled about on the bed, kneeling between them, arms wide, palms facing them both, a grin on her face. “Time out.”
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Luke grinned back. “You’re lucky, Lancaster.” He jabbed a finger at Addison over her shoulder. “If it wasn’t for this very naked American you’d be in a world of pain.” Addison brushed his knuckles over the front of his shirt and cocked an eyebrow. “Saved from a naked Australian by a naked American. I’m not sure if Her Royal Highness would be ashamed of me or impressed.” Kennedy arched her own eyebrow. “Maybe she’d throw you into the Tower of London?” Addison pulled a face. “I think I seduced a princess in the Tower of London once. Can’t remember which one.” It was Kennedy’s turn to roll her eyes. She threw a look at Luke. “Maybe I will let you beat him up.” Luke laughed. “Tempting. But there’s something else I want to do first.” She gave him an askew inspection. “What’s that?” He raked his stare over her very naked body, letting her see exactly what “that” was. “What do you think, cousin?” He raised his gaze to Addison. “Ready to make the American come again?” Addison’s lips pulled into a slow smile. “For Queen and country, convict. For Queen and country.” And before Kennedy’s laughing squeal finished sounding in the room, Addison had pressed her flat to the bed and buried his face between her legs.
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Chapter Six
Six hours of fucking later, Kennedy wondered where her shame had gone. Luke and Addison had taken her to a level of pleasure she didn’t—in her wildest fantasies—believe possible. They’d tied her to the bed, thanks to a rather unorthodox use of the suite’s pillowcases, and painted her body with slick cubes of ice before licking the melting water from her nipples, her flesh, her clit, each taking turns to make her beg for more. They’d soaped her up and rinsed her off in the shower, under the pretext of getting clean for the night’s prewedding cocktail party—the very party all three were now attending—Addison fucking her ass with his tongue as Luke suckled on her breasts until she came. They’d laughed their way through a game of rock-paper-scissors, the loser or losers of each hand required to do whatever the winner demanded. She’d come to realize, after losing five games in a row, that she sucked at the game, that both Luke and Addison were very adept at reading people, and that she liked being the filling in a man sandwich. It was only now, watching the party guests mingling around the poolside bar, camera in hand, occasionally taking candid shots of their enjoyment, that Kennedy accepted she was a deviant. Every time she framed someone’s face in the viewfinder of her Canon, she found herself thinking, bet they’ve never had a threesome before. Every time she thought that, her cheeks burned, her pulse kicked up a notch and her pussy squeezed and constricted and carried on until she had to turn away from whoever she was looking at and press her thighs together.
Sunset Heat
Oh God, she’d participated in a threesome. Her ultimate fantasy, and she’d experienced it. Who the hell knew moving to Australia was going to change her life so much? Drawing a slow breath, she attempted to focus on the task at hand. The prewedding cocktail party was, it seemed, a success. Kennedy had so many awesome images of the guests enjoying themselves she could honestly stop taking photos now and still have enough to fill a book. The only issue she was having was so many of them were of Luke and Addison. She’d have to cull at least eighty percent of them before showing the proofs to the bride and groom. It was hard though, not capturing the two men in digital glory. There was something definitely magnetic about them. More than once through the evening she’d found herself just watching them, smiling when they smiled, laughing to herself at their antics. Addison was such a showman, his British charm enslaving just about every woman he released it on. Kennedy enjoyed watching them blush and act coy, their fingers stroking their décolletage as they gazed up at him, lips parted in a smile that said, oh please, take me to bed. He’d work his magic on them and then, with a quick grin at Kennedy—no matter where she was witnessing the seduction—move on to the next willing subject, be it male or female. Kennedy found herself chuckling more than once, knowing it was her he was planning to take to bed later. Not just because he’d told her so before they left for the party, but because his hungry gaze told her so every time he looked at her across the crowded bar. And then there was Luke. The best man. Kennedy moved her attention to the Australian firefighter. Her belly tightened at the sight of him chatting with a petite little blonde on the other side of the pool.
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The party was showing Kennedy a different side to Luke. One she’d yet to truly see. He was relaxed, casual. He made everyone he spoke to laugh. He and the groom had spent quite a bit of time animatedly arguing over who was the ugliest of the two of them. It wasn’t until Aidan threatened to throw Luke in the pool that Luke threw up his hands in chuckling surrender and declared, loud enough for almost the whole party to hear that he, Luke Beasley, was the ugliest. Another guest pointed out that was why Luke was May in the State Firefighter’s Calendar, not April. Luke had countered with what could only be described as a graceful admittance of defeat: he’d burst out laughing and tossed the grinning man into the water. Kennedy captured the whole thing with her camera, of course. The smiling people, the sheer happiness of the moment, the strength of Luke’s body… Once again, she’d needed to turn away from him, the sight of his muscles flexing and coiling as he hauled his laughing friend from the pool one-handed doing all sorts of naughty things to her body. Like make her pussy throb and her breath quicken. She’d seen the smolderingly intense Luke, hell, she’d slept with the smolderingly intense Luke. She’d met the funny Luke—he was the first Luke she’d met in the New York bar, the one who made her forget the reason she was there in the first place. Now, she was seeing this Luke, a man she could willingly spend the rest of her life smiling and laughing and being with. Just being with. Not Rebound Guy. Not Potential Guy. Not even OMG-Awesome-Sex Guy, but Happily-Ever-After Guy. The guy who she wanted to see when she first woke up in the morning. The last guy she wanted to see before she fell asleep. In his arms.
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The little blonde—wearing the skimpiest black dress Kennedy had ever seen—leaned closer to Luke, pressing her palm to the broad expanse of his chest and rising onto tiptoe as she spoke words Kennedy couldn’t hear. Something hot and tight fisted in Kennedy’s belly and she caught her bottom lip with her teeth. She spun away from the sight of the woman who, judging by the way her tongue traced her parted lips and her hips brushed his thigh, was obviously making a rather intimate offering to Luke. Holy crap, what the hell was she doing being jealous? Oh, who are you kidding, Kennedy? You’re halfway in love with the guy. Admit it. Before she could stop herself, Kennedy turned back, her heart threatening to leap its way out of her throat. Luke stood alone, watching her, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. She let out a wobbly laugh, returning his smile across the pool. You’re more than halfway in love with him. You know that, right? Another shaky breath left her. She was. So what did she do about it? “Please tell me you’ve got more than just images of the best man on that camera of yours, Ms. Collins.” Kennedy started at the sound of her boss’s voice beside her. She jerked around, her heart clearly addicted to aerobic activity given the way it slammed into her throat once more. Kylie smirked at her. “I mean, I know there are images of other guests,” she went on, her eyes glinting with mirth, “but the way you were just standing there, with a—let’s face it—rather goofy look on your face, I’m beginning to wonder if I need to offer Luke the job of head firefighter here on the island.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Or advertise for a new photographer when the wedding is over.”
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Kennedy’s pulse hammered in her throat. She swung her stare back to Luke, relieved to find him now talking with the groom and another man who bore a vague resemblance to the bride. If she’d found him looking at her… Much more than halfway in love, Kennedy. So much more. “I…” She turned back to her boss. “It’s not that serious.” Kylie burst out laughing. “Oh, I think it is. I’ve been watching the pair of you all night. Beaso hasn’t gone more than a few minutes without seeking you out with his eyes, and just then, when you saw him talking to another woman? Well, I don’t need to be an expert in body language to know you were jealous.” She leaned a little closer to Kennedy, her smile stretching wider. “And I am an expert in body language. Studied it all the way through my business degree at uni.” Kennedy stared at her, pulse pounding, mouth dry. Kylie’s eyebrows pulled into a frown. “Are you okay?” “It’s just…” Kennedy stopped. Shook her head. “I’m not used to my boss being so friendly.” That wasn’t the issue at all. Kylie pressed a warm hand to Kennedy’s arm. “I’m not your typical boss, Kennedy. And I know all about being blindsided by love.” Kennedy’s stomach twisted. Love. She tried to keep her gaze locked on the woman before her but failed, turning to look at Luke where he stood on the other side of the pool. Aidan Rogers was still talking to him, but Kennedy could tell Luke wasn’t really paying attention, his lips curling the second her eyes made contact with his. Like he was waiting for her. He has. Four months of waiting for you. Four months since you ran out on him.
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“This wasn’t meant to happen,” she whispered. Rebound Guy was never meant to be Happily-Ever-After Guy. “It’ll work out,” Kylie murmured. “Trust me. There’s something about this island that seems to know what the heart needs.” Kennedy wanted to turn back to her boss, to ask her what the island was doing sticking its nose into her heart, but lost all hope of uttering a word when Addison joined Luke and Aidan, his tall, lean frame oozing roguish charm and promise. She stared at both men, her belly a hive of insane freaking butterflies, her breath caught in her throat and wondered why, if the island really did know what her heart wanted, it kept confusing the hell out of her?
Luke was never so glad for a party to end like he was this one. Standing beside Mitch Wood, McKenzie’s oldest brother, he fought to keep his feet in one place. At some stage during the night, Kennedy had disappeared. The last time he’d seen her, over an hour ago, she’d been talking to the resort’s manager and her new boss. Luke knew Kylie well enough to know the woman didn’t pull punches, and by the look on Kennedy’s face, a few moments into their conversation, Kylie had landed a doozy. He’d wanted to go to her there and then. Would have done so if Aidan hadn’t started grilling him on his best man’s toast. It didn’t help Addison had appeared a few minutes later, adding to the conversation in typical Addison style, which was to tell Aidan Luke hadn’t written a damn thing on his speech and was planning to regale everyone at the wedding with stories about all the times Aidan had brought women back to the station house, letting them sound the engine’s siren after they gave him head.
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It wasn’t true. None of it. But Aidan—who knew Luke well and didn’t know Addison that well at all—wasn’t going to let Luke get away until Luke had promised, on pain of a broken nose, that he wasn’t going to deliver any such toast. By the time Aidan was appeased and Addison was laughing himself silly, Kennedy was gone. Luke hadn’t been able to find her after that. Which for some reason unsettled him. It wasn’t that he was one of those clingy guys who didn’t want his woman out of his sight. He just felt…empty without knowing she was around. The fact he was thinking of her as his woman only compounded the tension doing its bloody best to engulf him. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you, Beaso?” Luke blinked, Mitch’s question jerking him back to the almost-empty bar. “What? Huh?” Mitch laughed. “If it’s a woman distracting you so much, go get her, I say.” Luke shot the successful businessman a sideward glare. “Shut up, Wood. I’ve seen you checking out one of Mack’s friends tonight. Maybe you should practice what you preach.” Mitch let out a long, deep sigh. “Can’t, mate. She’s here with another guy.” “Is it serious?” Mitch looked like he was going shrug and then changed his mind. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not her type.” “What is her type?” “Professional surfer, apparently.” Luke couldn’t stop his snort. “Why do women have the ability to completely fuck us up? Who decided that was going to be the way of it?”
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Mitch let out his own disgusted snort. “I don’t know. But I’d sure as hell like to have a word with them.” “A word? I think I’d like to beat the crap out of them.” Mitch’s responding laugh was wry. “That too.” They stood and watched the last few remnants of the party dribble from the bar. Luke looked around for Addison, his gut clenching when he couldn’t see him. His cousin had spent quite a bit of time sitting at the bar with Nick Blackthorne and his fiancée, no doubt sharing cross-global adventures, but now he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Perhaps he’s with Kennedy? The question didn’t sit well with Luke. Which unsettled him even more. What the fuck was wrong with him? “Do you reckon it’s too late for a guy my age to change his ways, Beaso?” Luke gave Mitch a frown. “You thinking of taking up surfing?” Mitch stared at the darkness beyond the poolside bar, dragged his fingers through his hair and let out a choppy sigh. “I don’t know.” And before Luke could utter another word, Mitch strode through the nowempty bar, leaving Luke alone. “He looks like the bride.” For the third time Luke started. He spun about, finding the owner of the female voice behind him. “I’m guessing—” Kennedy stepped out of the shadows, her SLR camera in hand, “—that he’s her brother?” Luke nodded. “Eldest. She has six.” Kennedy’s eyebrows shot up. “Six brothers? That would account for the large number of men walking around the resort insulting each other.”
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Luke chuckled. “It’s an Australian male thing. We don’t compliment those we love, we bag the shit out of them. It gets worse when they’re family.” Kennedy shook her head, her lips curling. “I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand that mentality.” “It’s an odd one.” She studied him, an unreadable expression flickering across her face. “And what does an Australian woman say to a guy she thinks she’s falling in love with?” Luke’s mouth went dry. Bone dry. Fuck, drier than that. He drew a breath, forcing his body to calm. “She’d say, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you’.” Kennedy didn’t bat an eye. “And what would an Australian guy say to a woman who said that to him?” “He’d say, ‘What about Addison?’” A tiny smile pulled at a corner of Kennedy’s mouth. “All Australian men have cousins called Addison?” Luke didn’t answer. He knew she was trying to be flippant, to break the tension that had fallen between them, but that tension was so twisted through his every thought at the moment, no amount of joking could ease it. He had to know. He had to know where she stood with Addison. What she was wanting from Luke himself. He lived a whole bloody state away. She’d only just moved to Australia. And as for Addison? Was the consummate British rake ready to settle down? Was Addison better for Kennedy than Luke anyway? Should Luke feel guilty about not wanting the best for his cousin? For a long moment, Kennedy didn’t say a word. They stared at each other, every molecule in Luke’s body telling him to reach for her. To slide his arms around her waist, pull her into his body and kiss her. Instead, he stayed motionless. And silent.
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Finally Kennedy let out a ragged sigh. “I’m going back to my suite,” she said, looking away from him, her gaze moving about the dark garden beyond the bar. “I need to think.” “Kennedy.” He stopped. Dragged his hands through his hair and bit back a curse. “I want you. I’m bloody certain you know that. But I don’t know if I can share you anymore.” She nodded. “I understand.” “Ask me again what an Aussie bloke says to a girl who tells him she thinks she’s falling in love with him.” A small laugh bubbled up Kennedy’s throat. “What’s an Aussie bloke say to a woman who tells him she thinks she’s falling in love with him?” Luke pulled a deep breath, placed his hand on her cheek and did the bravest, hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, a life spent running into burning houses and facing down death almost every day. “He tells her to be sure,” he said. And then he turned and walked from the bar. And every step he took, he called himself a stupid fucking wanker. Every bloody step. By the time he reached his suite, he was borderline nauseous. He loved his cousin more than any other man in the world. How could he tell him there wasn’t a bloody hope in hell of sharing Kennedy with him again? What would he do if Addison refused to back off? What would he do if Kennedy decided Addison was the better fit for her? Shoving his key into the suite’s lock, he pushed open the door and stormed inside. “Her Majesty wants to give me a knighthood.” Luke froze at Addison’s voice. He swung his stare to where his cousin slouched on the room’s sofa, iPad balanced on his thighs. “What?”
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Addison looked at whatever was on the tablet’s screen, shaking his head. “Betty wants to knight me. I received the email from her office ten minutes ago.” “Holy shit, Ado.” Luke grinned. “That’s fantastic.” And yet, even as he said the words, his gut clenched. A knight. What woman in her right mind could resist a knight? Especially one who looked like Addison? If Kennedy was still unsure about how she felt about Addison, him being knighted… Luke looked at his cousin, relaxed on the leather sofa, immaculate in a designer polo shirt and jeans, clean-shaven, groomed and polished. What woman wouldn’t want a knight in shining armor like that? If she had to choose between an award-winning, knighted millionaire and a firefighter from a working-class city, what sane woman would pick the fiery? “So,” Addison was saying, and Luke gave himself a mental slap, dragging his attention back to his cousin, “sometime in May next year I get to go down on one knee in front of Her Royalness and let her whip me about with a sword.” He pulled a boyish frown. “Is that the way it happens nowadays? Or does she just, I don’t know, send me a text or something?” Luke crossed to the suite’s bar and poured himself a scotch. No ice. He knew he should be happy for his cousin, and he was, but he couldn’t help but feel…defeated. Think about what Kennedy said to you back at the bar. About falling in love with you. You, not Addison. That was true. But he’d seen the way she’d looked at his cousin through the night. She was attracted to him. It was clear in her eyes. He didn’t know how to deal with that. He didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with it, and it was all his fucking fault because he was the one who’d suggested the damn threesome
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with his cousin. His cousin who was going to be fucking knighted. Knighted, of all fucking— “Luke?” Luke started. Ignoring his drink, he turned back to Addison, forcing his expression to be calm. Addison studied him, iPad now on the cushion beside him. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Luke sucked in a swift breath. He stared at his cousin, his blood roaring in his ears. “Yeah,” he finally said. “I think I am.” Addison’s jaw bunched. “Does she love you?” “I don’t know. She might.” Luke let out a dry chuckle. “But you’re a hard one to compete against, Ado. And you can offer her so much more than me.” Addison didn’t answer. Not for a long moment. When he finally did, Luke wished he hadn’t. “And is that what we’re doing? Competing for her?” Luke shook his head. “You tell me.” Addison’s gaze slid from Luke and danced around the suite, as if the soonto-be-knighted Brit looked for the answer. “From the second I saw her, I wanted her,” he said, each word clipped and strained. “And it wasn’t because she was naked and sexy and vulnerable. It was…I don’t know how to explain it…primitive? Chemistry? I didn’t just want to fuck her—which is my normal reaction to a beautiful woman, especially a naked beautiful woman—I wanted to get to know her. That’s not typical for me, and you know it.” Luke’s chest tightened. His gut clenched. He stood motionless, watching his cousin rise from the sofa and walk toward him. Every muscle in his body tensed. Every nerve ending fired up. He’d faced down more than one opponent in more than one pub brawl during his wild youth. He’d faced down more than one threat to his life in his role as a firefighter as well. Nothing compared to the
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adrenaline-charged seconds it took for Addison to cross the room and stop but a few feet from him. He drove his nails into his palms, rolled his shoulders and met his cousin’s stare face-on. “I’ve spent enough time,” Addison said, his British accent growing more pronounced with each word, his gaze level and direct, “filming animals during mating season to know what happens when two alpha males want the same female. It gets…” He paused. Long enough for Luke to narrow his eyes and ball his fists tighter. “…bloody.” Luke stayed motionless. He wasn’t scared of Addison. When it came to sheer muscle and strength, Luke could break Addison in two without much of a sweat. But the man was his cousin, and Luke loved him as such. Could he bring himself to strike back if Addison decided it was time to get, as he put it, “bloody”? And if he did, could Luke live with himself afterward? Could he live without Kennedy? “Ado.” He loosened his shoulders. “Mate, you don’t want to—” “No.” Addison shook his head. “You’re wrong. I do.” And with a flat, hard glare, Addison turned on his heel, strode across the suite and out the door. Leaving Luke frozen. Even as adrenaline scorched through his veins and burnt him up alive.
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Chapter Seven
There were advantages to being a British award-winning wildlife cinematographer. Money, fame, infamy, the ability to get into any party in Great Britain, any restaurant… Addison had, at one stage or another, exploited them all. Being able to sleep under the stars without pillow, blanket or a clean change of underwear was another, one he hadn’t thought he’d be needing during his time at Bandicoot Cove. And yet here he was stretched out on one of the beaches of Bilby Island, his pillow and boxers back in the suite he shared with Luke, watching the stars slowly wink out of existence as the night sky grew light with dawn. He’d stormed around the resort for a good two hours after walking away from his cousin. Stormed and stomped and muttered and cursed himself for being the pathetic, lowlife rake he was. And the moral family member. He wanted Kennedy, but his cousin was in love with her. There was no denying that. He’d suspected it during their mind-blowing threesome. He’d seen it in Luke’s eyes during the cocktail party. If it had been anyone but Luke, Addison wouldn’t have given a sodding fuck. He’d have done what he usually did when he wanted something or someone. Take it. Seduce whatever fine young female he wanted out from under whoever foolishly thought they were her end-all and be-all. Claim her. Like the rake he was.
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But this was Luke. And it wasn’t just that Luke was family. Or that he could beat Addison to a bloody pulp if he wanted. Luke was decent. Luke was…was…sod it, Luke was a hero, and the world didn’t have enough of those. Which made wanting Kennedy the way Addison did all the more difficult. He let out a long sigh, his breath choppy. The cool sand beneath him was decidedly hard after three solid hours of lying on it. Three solid hours spent thinking about his future, his cousin, Kennedy. Not one minute of those three hours were spent thinking about his impending knighthood. If HRH knew, she’d most likely be quite miffed. One of her royal subjects thinking more about a convict and a colonial? Addison’s lips curled into a small smile. “We are not amused.” “About what?” Addison scrambled onto his knees, staring up at the owner of the softly asked question. Kennedy was a few feet away, walking toward him across the sand. The rising sun, just breaking the horizon, cast her in a warm golden light, and it was all Addison could do not to groan. She wore denim shorts and a white tank top, her long blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. There wasn’t an inch of makeup on her face, no lip gloss, eyeliner, nothing. Addison swallowed, his body reacting to the sight of her natural beauty. “Why are you out here so damn early?” she asked, dropping onto the sand beside him. It was only then Addison noticed the SLR camera in her hand, a rather impressive state-of-the-art digital number he knew cost a small fortune. “And who isn’t amused?”
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“Her Royal Highness isn’t amused.” He shifted onto his butt, draping his arms around his bent knees as he grinned at her. Inside, his heart was doing the samba. Kennedy raised a quizzical eyebrow. Addison chuckled. “I just spent the last three hours thinking about an American and an Australian when I should have been thinking about her royal offer of bestowing me a knighthood.” “A knighthood?” Kennedy’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God, Addison. That’s amazing. Congratulations.” He looked at her, his throat tight. His balls tighter. “You’re amazing.” She caught her bottom lip with her teeth. “You still haven’t told me,” she began, her voice husky, “why you are out here so early?” She held up her camera, a nervous laugh bubbling from her—as if she was unsure how to respond to his statement. “I’m out here to take photos of the sunrise. What’s your excuse?” “I came out here to escape.” Her eyebrows knitted. “Escape what?” Addison drew a slow breath, the subtle scent of her—floral soap and delicate perfume—flowing into his being. “The distinct possibility of doing something stupid.” Her gaze moved over his face, her frown deepening. “Like what?” “Like this,” he said, leaning forward to claim her lips with his. She didn’t move. Not for the time it took Addison’s heart to beat twice. Her lips stayed the way they were when he kissed her, parted slightly, her body motionless. And then, with a soft groan, she opened to him, touching her tongue to his. Hesitant, uncertain.
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Addison lifted his hand, smoothing his fingers over her jaw to cup her face. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth. Flicking his tongue over hers, tracing the edge of her teeth, the inner softness of her lips. He explored her chin, her throat, nipping and tasting her as he moved his lips up to the little dip below her ear. He teased the shallow indentation with his tongue before capturing her earlobe, sucking it with gentle pressure. Kennedy’s fingers touched his chest, so near his nipples he let out a shaky moan. His cock throbbed in his jeans, hard and thick and erect. He’d never been so easily stirred as he was with Kennedy, and it scared him. Especially when there was— She groaned again, the sound reaching down into the pit of his stomach. It was an aroused sound. And a tormented one. He heard it. Her conflict threaded through the desire he felt in her kiss. It sheared through him and he pulled away, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Luke.” His cousin’s name left him on a whispered breath. He dropped his hand from Kennedy’s cheek, watching the confusion swimming in her eyes. Ah, sod it. “Addison—” she caught her bottom lip with her teeth, “—I…I don’t…” He straightened away from her. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. It tore at him like a hook in his heart, wrenching the heat from his soul. “He’s a really great bloke.” Kennedy shook her head. “No, that’s not it. I don’t know…” “Know?” She shook her head again, the dawn sun bathing her in warm light. “It’s all…messed up. I’d fantasized about a threesome—I think most sexually adventurous women do at one point or another. It was the reason Max, the guy
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I’d been seeing for over three years, dumped me. I mentioned it one night while we were watching Bones. The episode featured a sex club, and I thought he’d get a laugh out of it. Instead, he called me a kinky slut and left.” Addison raised his eyebrows. He wanted to tell her Max was an utter git, but the words wouldn’t come. Despite the possibility he still stood a chance with her—at least that’s what he thought Kennedy was going to say—he couldn’t shake the total guilt that had slammed through him the second Luke’s name passed his lips. But if she does choose you? Or tell you she wants to try a permanent ménage relationship? He had no answer for that. “So there I was,” Kennedy went on, her stare moving to the beach, the water like a blanket of sparkling jewels under the rising sun, “feeling sorry for myself, drinking myself silly in a bar, and this gorgeous, sexy guy starts talking to me with an Australian accent. An Australian accent. Do you have any idea how sexy an Australian accent is?” Addison gave her a wry grin. “Almost as sexy as a British one?” She chuckled, turning back to him. “You see? This is my problem. You are my problem. Luke is my problem. He was meant to be Rebound Guy and…” She paused, a frown knitting her eyebrows again. “And he turned out to be something else. And you were meant to be just part of a fantasy I finally got to experience…” She stopped, swinging her gaze back to the water. Addison studied her profile. The need to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek surged through him. To slip his fingers under her chin and turn her face back to his.
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He didn’t have to. She swung back to him, her stare direct. “And instead, you make me laugh with almost every word.” “And make you come time and again.” She blushed at his conceited claim. “Yes, you did that as well.” The past tense wasn’t lost on Addison. Nor was the nagging guilt still gnawing at him. The sense of betrayal. He’d worn his rake mantle for his entire adult life. Longer, in fact. The morning he first woke to a hard-on as a young teenage boy he’d been aware what decadent pleasures there were to be had in life. His parents’ money and social status allowed him to indulge in it, his good looks allowed him to revel in it. And yet here he was now, fraught with confusion. One of the most beautiful, intriguing women he’d ever had the fortune to know, let alone sleep with, was telling him he may or may not be her future, and he wasn’t pressing her to the cool sand and claiming her body with his hands and cock. He was thinking about his cousin, who was in love with her. And he was thinking how, of every living soul he knew—from the upperclass rich in Britain, to the naturalists and filmmakers he worked with, from the servants who worked for his family to the women he kept on speed-dial for those times he needed a no-strings-attached escort—Luke was the only one who treated him like just a normal man. Like a friend. Luke was the one person on this planet who kept him grounded. Why else was it Luke who Addison had run to when the Egyptian president’s daughter came after him with marriage in her sights? Why else was it Luke who Addison preferred to spend his downtime from filming with? His cousin, the most decent bloke Addison knew. Did he really want to destroy that one good, honest, pure relationship? For the possibility of another one?
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Did he? He looked at Kennedy, studying her face, with its straight honey-blonde eyebrows, its faint smattering of freckles, its full lips and fine nose. It was a beautiful face. She was beautiful. “What is this thing between us?” he asked, his head fuzzy with need, his body tortured with guilt. “Is it the same as between you and Luke? Different? Or does it only exist because of him?” “Addison,” she began, but he stopped her with a shake of his head. “What do you want from me, Kennedy? I need to know. Before I press you back into the sand and lose myself in your body, I need to know what it is you want from me.”
Breakfast tasted like dust. Luke tossed his knife and fork onto the plate, his poached eggs, bacon and grilled tomato barely touched. He looked about the poolside bistro, the very place this time yesterday morning, he and Addison had flirted shamelessly with the waitress. The same waitress served his table this morning, her eyes and body language telling him she was more than happy to take up where they’d left off. He’d watched her lick her lips as she placed his coffee on the table before him, leaning forward just enough for the lace of her bra to be exposed by the deep V of her shirt, her hip touching his shoulder as she reached for his napkin, the backs of her fingers brushing over his crotch as she lay it over his lap. If he wanted her, he could have had her. He didn’t doubt it. The trouble was, he didn’t want her. Not at all. The woman he wanted however…for all he fucking knew, she was currently with Addison. Sir Addison.
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“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling the napkin from his lap and dropping it on the table. He had no idea where his cousin was, hadn’t seen him since Addison stormed from their suite four hours ago, and when he’d gone to Kennedy’s suite before coming to breakfast, no one had answered the door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Let me guess.” A deep male voice chuckled beside him, and Luke jerked his stare upward, surprised to find Aidan—groom-to-be and the state’s most awarded firefighter—lowering himself onto the empty seat. “You just remembered it’s my buck’s night tonight and you haven’t organized the stripper?” The man grinned, his sheer strength and size making Luke feel small. He’d seen Aidan lift a car singlehandedly from a bleeding passenger at an accident scene, and it still amazed Luke the man seemed so boyish. “Stripper?” Luke chuckled. “If I organized a stripper Mack would eat me for breakfast.” Aidan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not scared of my fiancée, are you?” Luke burst out laughing. “Bloody oath, I am.” It was Aidan’s turn to laugh. “Chicken.” He reached over the table and plucked a slice of untouched toast from Luke’s plate. Ten years of fighting fires together, of coexisting in the station house meant when it came to food there were no real boundaries between them. “So tell me,” he said, toast poised at his lips, “what’s got you so flustered? And don’t you say your speech tomorrow night.” Luke’s smile faded. He looked away from Aidan, his gaze falling on the waitress on the other side of the bistro. How much easier would it be just to wander on over there, whisper his suite number in her ear and fuck Kennedy out of his system? “Is it the American photographer?”
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Luke jerked his stare back to Aidan, his pulse pounding in his ear. “How do you—” Aidan held up the slice of toast like it was a stop sign. “Mate, I watched you last night at the cocktail party. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her. Even when I was talking to you, you were with her. What’s the deal? I know she’s more than just a quick fling. I can tell by the way you look at each other. How do you know her?” Luke let out a ragged sigh, running his hands through his hair. “Remember when I went to the U.S. as part of the Firefighters’ World Games?” Aidan snorted. “Of course I do. You had a holiday in New York for a week. I had to deal with three house fires, two car accidents and the science block of Newcastle High School being set alight by a group of students from Cardiff High. I also remember you coming back to work like a bear with a thorn stuck in its paw. You were a pain in the arse, yelling at just about everyone one minute and staring out the window the…” His voice faded away, realization dawning on his face. “Ah, the American.” He grinned. “You already know her.” Luke’s pulse thumped harder. “We shared a one-night stand two nights before I flew back to Australia.” “And now she’s working here at Bandicoot Cove?” Aidan shook his head. “That’s fate telling you something, mate. You know that, right?” “Fate’s fucking with me, Rogers. It put Kennedy here at the same time it put Addison.” “And she’s interested in your cousin? Really? I didn’t get that at all last night.” Luke combed his fingers through his hair again. At this rate, he was going to be bald before he got off the island. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does either. I’m going to sound like a wanker, but we shared something special in New York,
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just the two of us, and I thought…” He swallowed, watching the waitress move about the other diners, her attention flicking to him over and over again in cute, sideward glances. Ah, Beaso. If only you could use her to fuck Kennedy out of your system. But you can’t. Because you’re not a jerk. He swallowed again, returning his focus to Aidan. “Ever had a threesome?” He didn’t know why he asked the question. Maybe to see Aidan’s reaction? If his friend and deputy captain recoiled in disgust—or laughed himself silly— Luke would know what he was contemplating was lunacy. And what are you contemplating? Sharing Kennedy forever with Addison? Or for as long as it works? Could you really do that? For the woman you’re in love with? “I have,” Aidan answered, and Luke blinked. “Right here on this island, in fact.” Luke was sure he’d heard Aidan incorrectly. He had to. There was no way Aidan Rogers would partake in something as…unorthodox as a threesome. “If it wasn’t for the threesome, I never would have known just how much I loved Mack,” the man continued, a lopsided smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I already knew I loved her. Fuck, everyone did. Except Mack. I’ve loved her from the very day I met her way back in high school, but it took sharing her with someone for me to realize I would kill for her. Or kill any other man who wanted to touch her.” Luke couldn’t fathom what he was hearing. He stared at Aidan—the man he’d worked with for ten years, the most conservative, responsible firefighter Luke knew, a pillar of the community, the face of the state’s firefighting brigade. “Wait, are you telling me you and McKenzie had a threesome? Here?” Aidan leant forward, all signs of the boyish man-child gone. “I am. And the only reason I’m doing so, Beaso, is because I know what it’s like to be bloody
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messed up by love. I know what it’s like to have your balls caught because you’re too gutless to tell the woman you love more than life itself you want nothing but her. And I could tell last night, every time you looked at the American, you wanted to open your chest, reach in, pull out your heart and give it to her.” He snared another piece of toast from Luke’s plate. “And just so you know, I’m going to tell Mack the minute I leave here I did tell you, and the reason why.” Luke gaped at Aidan. He couldn’t help it. “Why are you telling me?” Aidan sat back, took a bite out of his stolen triangle of toast, chewed it, swallowed it and then fixed Luke with a steady stare. “Because you’re thinking you could learn to tolerate a relationship sharing Kennedy with Addison, as long as you’re with her, as long as you get to hold her, kiss her, give her pleasure and have her in your world.” He took another bite, his gaze unwavering from Luke’s. “Right?” Luke didn’t know what to say. “How did you…” He stared at Aidan, his mouth dry, his blood roaring in his ears. Aidan chuckled, a wry sound unlike any Luke had heard him make before. “Everything you’re thinking now, I thought myself.” Luke dragged in a deep breath, Aidan’s words a low rumble in his head. Every word was true. Every one. Luke knew Addison wanted Kennedy, he knew Kennedy was conflicted about how she felt for his cousin. And he knew, no matter how much he tried to kid himself otherwise, he’d never be able to survive a relationship where all three of them did what they’d done yesterday. It had been the most amazing, intense, pleasurable, surreal day of his life, and he never wanted to experience it again. It would tear him apart to see Kennedy pleasured by another man, brought to climax by another man, even one he loved as much as he did Addison.
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It was going to hurt like hell never to touch her again, but better never to touch her again than kill his cousin. “Now.”
Aidan
rose
to
his
feet,
towering
over
Luke,
his
expression…sympathetic. “It’s the day of my buck’s night. I need to spend it with my future wife convincing her the stripper my best man has lined up isn’t going to seduce me into passion so frenzied I forget all about my promise to love her until I die.” He gave Luke a grin, but Luke couldn’t miss the serious intensity in his eyes. “A promise I fully intend never to break.” “Rogers?” Luke frowned at him, his heart still racing far too fast, his mouth still far too dry. “Who was the other man? The guy you shared…” Aidan shook his head. “I can’t tell you that, mate. And it doesn’t really matter. But he was the right bloke to do it with, and I’m glad it was him that gave me and Mack that wonderful, amazing experience. And if he ever thought he could come back and have her again, I’d break him in two. Without a second thought.” And with that, he leant forward, stole the last piece of untouched toast from Luke’s plate and walked away, throwing a quick “See you tonight, best man” over his shoulder. Leaving Luke alone at the table, his eggs cold, his toast gone and the waitress making a beeline for him. “Can I get you anything?” He swung his stare from the sight of Aidan’s broad back, up into the direct blue eyes of the waitress. A thick lump formed in his throat. “Errr…” “My shift finishes in an hour,” she said, withdrawing her order pad from the pocket of her apron and scrawling something on it with quick, fluid strokes. She tore off the top sheet of paper and passed it to Luke, her eyes once more telling him very clearly that she was ready for what they’d begun yesterday morning to
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continue. “I’m more than happy to show you the pleasures of the island when I’m done.” His blood pounding through his veins, his gut knotted, Luke took the small sheet of paper. It was her mobile number, of course. Ten digits neatly written on the paper followed by an equally-as-neat love heart and the name Shelli. “I know a really private swimming hole a little further inland,” she went on, “surrounded by rainforest and soft white sand. It’s perfect for skinny-dipping.” She touched the tip of her tongue to the end of her pen. “And other things that don’t require clothes.” Luke’s cock throbbed in his shorts, a base response of primitive sexual need. Before he could say anything however, the waitress hurried away, stopping at a few tables as she made her way to what he assumed was the kitchen. Sitting motionless, he tried to picture her standing hip-deep in still, clear water, her breasts uncovered, her nipples tight and ready to be sucked. Instead, all he could see in his mind was Kennedy, naked and trembling— her breasts heaving, first as she begged him to get rid of the butterfly in her room, and second as he brought her to orgasm with his mouth and fingers and dick. He closed his eyes, bit back a low groan, his balls heavy and full with need, and opened his eyes again. The waitress stood a few tables away from him, watching him from the corner of her eye. Luke saw her smile. Saw her touch the flesh between her breasts. He ground his teeth, dropping his stare to the piece of paper in his hand. Ten digits, a heart and Shelli. He flicked his watch a quick look, took note of the time and straightened to his feet. Time was running out. He needed to get moving. Now.
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Chapter Eight
Walking through the lush gardens of the resort, the beach behind her, sand still clinging to her toes, Kennedy found herself wondering if she could be any more pathetic. Moving to Australia, to Bilby Island, was meant to be the new chapter of her life. There wasn’t meant to be confusion and chaos. There was meant to be serenity, laughs and generally a relaxed time. A time spent taking photos of people enjoying themselves. Instead… She flicked a look at the man walking beside her. Instead, she’d stepped into the kind of romance film she would have walked out on if she’d been watching it in a theater. The kind where the heroes were too good to be true, the heroine did stupid things, and the audience threw things at the screen every time she did. She tightened her grip on her camera. She’d intended to capture the gorgeous sunrise with it but hadn’t taken a single photo. Because you were busy doing other things, yes? A lump filled her throat, and she shot another look at her walking companion. Addison hadn’t said anything since they’d left the beach together, which was unusual for him. After over twenty-four hours in his company, she knew he liked to fill silence with sarcastic but funny comments and quips. What had passed between them on the beach however… Well, there wasn’t really anything funny or sarcastic to comment on about that.
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Are you sure? Sarcasm would fit perfectly about now. Something like Gee, you fucked this up well, didn’t you, Kennedy? She ground her teeth and bit back a sigh. She had fucked things up well. Very well. And now she had to live with that. For how long? Instead of waiting for an answer she didn’t want to think about, she turned to Addison. “Are you going to the buck’s night tonight?” He gave her a sideward look, his expression unreadable. “Yes. Are you?” “For a little while. McKenzie wants some photos of Aidan being, in her words, ‘a right bloody idiot’.” Addison chuckled. “She’s a firecracker, that one.” They continued to walk, silence once again falling between them. She slid him a quick glance, wishing she knew what to do. She couldn’t think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said on the beach, nor anything to do that would ease the tension. There wasn’t anything she could do. Not unless she counted running as fast as she could to the seaplane dock, jumping on the next flight and getting the hell out of here, and doing that wouldn’t solve her problem. Not really. She looked around the lush garden, at the resort’s guests enjoying themselves in it, and bit back another sigh. Where the hell was a butterfly when she needed it? If a butterfly came flitting out of nowhere, she’d at least have an excuse for running away. Maybe then, give or take a few hours—or years—she’d be able to get her head sorted out. As it was, all she could think about was what she and Addison had done on the beach. And how Luke was going to— She walked into a brick wall. A brick wall that went oof when she smacked into it.
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“Luke.” Addison’s voice uttering his cousin’s name sent shards of icy tension into Kennedy’s belly. She took a step back, looking up into Luke’s face. He stood on the path before them, his jaw bunched, his stare moving from her to Addison and back to her. Oh Kennedy, he’s so… Her lips tingled as she gazed at him, her pulse leaping faster. She tried to pull a breath, but couldn’t. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, those damn little things that petrified her so much. But not as much as her feelings for the man in front of her. For the possibility she’d ruined everything. Everything. By being so damn…confused. “We were just…” Addison began, but Luke shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “I don’t want to know.” Kennedy’s stomach dropped. She stepped forward, willing the Australian to look at her. “Luke, we need to talk. I need—” “To wipe the sand from your hair?” He cut her off. “Your shoulders?” She started, her hands instinctually moving to her head. Heat flooded her cheeks when her fingers brushed over tiny grains of sand clinging to her hair. Before she could stop herself, she looked up at Addison, a low groan escaping her at the sight of more sand dusting his shoulder. Fresh warmth set Kennedy’s cheeks on fire. Oh boy. Luke snorted, the sound flat. “Thought so. Figured I didn’t really stand a chance.” “It’s not…” she began, and then stopped. What did she say? Yes, Addison and I had sex on the beach. Yes, he made me come three times. Yes, I feel like shit now. Yes, I think Addison does as well.
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Would Luke stand to hear that? Or would he walk away from them both, before she could tell him what was really in her heart? What she finally now knew, standing there with him right before her, his torment clear on his face, his smell—one she’d never forgotten regardless of the months that passed— threading into her body with every breath she took? That she knew exactly what she wanted. Who she wanted. Not just while he was on the island, not just while she was on the island, but forever. Would he even believe her if she did? She took another step closer, placing her hands on his chest. He flinched, as if her touch caused him pain, his heart slamming against her palm as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Luke, I need to tell you—” He shook his head again, taking a pace away from her. “I don’t want to know. I really don’t.” He cast Addison a level look, his jaw bunching again. “Well played, Sir Addison. You beat me. The knight in shining armor gets the girl. May you be happy together.” “Don’t be a dick, convict,” Addison said behind Kennedy, each word a low growl. Luke barked out a dry laugh. “I’m the dick? Yeah, I guess I am. A dick for thinking my cousin, a man who is more like a brother to me, would actually care about what I want.” His gaze moved to Kennedy, pain a dark shadow on his face. “Who I want. Good thing we got that cleared up, isn’t it? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a buck’s party to see to. There’s a pole dancer I need to…debrief on tonight’s activities and a hot little waitress who’s wanting me to take her somewhere private and fuck her silly. Tell me, how private was the beach where you two did it?” Kennedy gasped. Her stomach clenched.
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Luke shook his head one more time, his stare locked on her face. “Don’t bother answering that. I’ll find somewhere else.” He turned and walked away before Kennedy could say a word, his body coiled, his fists balled, cold hate radiating from him. She stood and watched him go, wanting to go after him. To say sorry. To beg him to forgive her. To tell him that she knew, she really did know now. That she picked him, she picked him. And always would. She almost took a step. Almost. And then she saw Luke pull his cell phone and a piece of paper from his back pocket, read what was written on the paper and then dial a number and lift the phone to his ear. Cold pain sheared through her heart. She had no idea who he was calling—it could have been anyone—but she recognized the piece of paper in his hand. It was from an order book from the Seaspray Bistro. The kind of book a waitress would use to write their phone number on when flirting with a sexy guest. A sexy guest like Luke. An invisible fist punched Kennedy in the belly, and she closed her eyes, a soft sob bursting past her dry lips. “You should have told him.” She jumped at Addison’s low voice. “Told him what?” “That you picked him.” “How did you—” His sad smile stole the question from her lips. “I could see it in your eyes. I may have made you come, but I’ve never had your heart. Have I?” Kennedy didn’t know what to say. When had she become such an inarticulate idiot? Addison raised a hand and placed it on her cheek. “If it helps, I’m still here. And if my cousin continues to be a dick, I’ll be here for the next two days.”
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She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, a frown pulling at her eyebrows. “Only two days?” “Two days. Then it’s back to ol’ Blighty for a visit with the Queen.” He lowered his head, nudging her forehead with his. “You’re more than welcome to join me if you want.” Kennedy swallowed. Closed her eyes, tilted her chin upward and brushed her lips over Addison’s. “You really are a knight in shining armor, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “It’s what every girl wants, isn’t it? A knight? That, or a hero to rescue her?” A hero. Like a firefighter. Taking a step away from him, Kennedy let him see her smile. “What every girl wants,” she said before, with a quick kiss on his sad smile, she turned on her heel and went after Luke, praying to the god of idiotic, stupid girls everywhere she could find him.
The swimming hole was definitely private, the sand was definitely cool and soft and white, and Shelli the waitress most definitely was naked as the day she was born. Luke, however, didn’t give a shit. He watched the nubile young woman swim through the clear water, her body the stuff of fantasies, and could only think about Kennedy. Could only curse the American. Could only ache for her. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” Shelli called, the water streaming over her curves, her nipples, as she straightened to her feet. She gave him a slow smile, doing her best—Luke knew—to seduce him.
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It wasn’t working. The whole fucking thing wasn’t working. Almost an hour of being felt up by the hot little waitress, of watching her strip her clothes from her hot little body, of watching her touch herself as she waded into the water, giving him come-fuck-me looks the whole time, and his cock was a flaccid hunk of disinterest. He ground his teeth. Contempt coated the back of his throat with bitter heat. His gut boiled with sour anger. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why the fuck had he thought this would work? Come out into the middle of nowhere and fuck a woman who wasn’t the woman he wanted to fuck? Out of spite? Retaliation? Oh yeah, you really are full of good fucking ideas aren’t you, Beaso? Planting his hands on the soft sand beside him, he pushed himself to his feet. He had to get back to the resort. If nothing else, Aidan would be looking for him. The guy was getting married tomorrow and where was his best man? Off in the bloody rainforest not screwing one of the resort’s staff. “Where are you going?” He turned at the wet hand on his arm. Shelli was frowning up at him, her gloriously naked body glistening. Drops of water beaded on her erect nipples, and if he’d been any kind of red-blooded male he’d lick them off. His dick lay dormant in his cargos. “I’m sorry, Shelli.” He covered her hand with his, gave it a gentle squeeze and removed it from his arm. “I can’t. I shouldn’t have let you think I could.” She frowned some more. “Really? Why?” A wry chuckle bubbled up from Luke’s chest. “There’s someone else.” “She can join us if she likes.” The waitress pressed her damp, soft body closer to Luke. “Or he can. I’m easy either way.” Luke snorted. A threesome? Of course, the perfect solution to any situation.
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He shook his head and took a step back. “Thanks for the offer, but no.” Shelli held out her arms, letting him see everything he’d already seen. “Really? I’m not offering anything but a fun time, Luke. No commitment, no come-and-meet-Mum-and-Dad. I won’t even call you in the morning.” She circled her nipples with her fingertips, licking her lips as she did so. “Just a fun time.” Her right hand slipped down to her shaved pussy, dipping between her thighs. “Just a good time. A really good time.” Luke watched her fingers roll over her clit, waiting for his body to react to the erotic sight. Nothing. He ground his teeth again. It seemed he was well and truly fucked in the most nonsexual way possible. That’s because you’re in love. And the woman you’re in love with chose your cousin. He lifted his gaze to the waitress’s face. “Sorry, Shelli. Not what you were hoping for, was it?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Not what I was planning either, I have to say.” She studied him for a moment, eyes narrow, her teeth worrying the finger only seconds ago delving between her legs, and then shrugged, a smile stretching her lips. “No worries. Let me get my clothes and we can walk back to the resort.” An hour later, Luke left Shelli at her cabin door, her quick kiss and promise if he ever needed her to just call a taunting echo of his complete failure to be aroused by her. He made his way through the resort, heading for Aidan’s suite. Was this the way it was going to be for him now? Incapable of getting it up thanks to Kennedy Collins? He spent the rest of the day with Aidan and Mack in their waterfront bungalow, refusing to answer his cell whenever it rang. His friends cast him
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curious looks but neither said anything. Lunch came and went, Luke not even remotely starstruck when Nick Blackthorne and his fiancée arrived. He was too preoccupied with maintaining a jovial façade when he felt so far from jovial it wasn’t funny. The conversation was relaxed, all involved laughing and enjoying the moment, and yet, on a conscious level, Luke knew he was going through the motions. That deep down inside he was thinking of Kennedy, of what they’d shared, of what they’d had. When talk turned to the wedding tomorrow, Luke snapped himself out of his fugue—or at least attempted to—concentrating on his duties as best man. Best man. He let out a ragged sigh. He wasn’t the best man, was he? He was the alsoran man. First Rebound Guy, now Runner-Up Man. Talk about being a bloody failure. “You carry on this way at my wedding, Beaso, and I’ll thump the crap outta you.” He blinked, jerking his attention back to Aidan. His friend sat opposite him on the bungalow’s deck, his expression once again sympathetic. No one else was around, and Luke wondered how long he’d been zoned out. Long enough for Nick and Lauren to leave? Leaning forward, he reached for the beer bottle on the low table between them. “I’ll be okay.” “Didn’t peg you for being a gutless wonder.” Aidan’s statement stabbed at what little calm Luke was holding. “Shut the fuck up, Rogers.” Aidan laughed, his massive shoulders shaking. “Ah, mate. Tell me, why can you risk your life running into a burning house to rescue a bloody kitten but you can’t see you’re doing nothing but killing yourself now.”
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Luke stared at the bottle in his hand, his pulse a cannon in his ears. “She didn’t pick me,” he said, the low words tearing at his throat. “She picked Addison.” “So why has your cousin been calling you ever since you turned up here? To gloat? I don’t know the guy that well, but I don’t think that’s his style, is it?” Luke shook his head. “I don’t know what his style is. I thought I did but…” He didn’t say any more. “And that’s it, then? You’re going to roll over and show your belly? Fuck, mate, remind me when I get back from my honeymoon to apply for the captain’s job at the station, okay?” Luke flicked a glare at Aidan. “What do you mean?” Aidan raised his eyebrows. “Well you obviously haven’t got the balls to be in a position requiring courage and levelheadedness. Not if you’re going to wimp out on something as important as love.” He leant forward and plucked the beer bottle from Luke’s hand, his stare pinning. “Check your messages, fuck-knuckle. You might be surprised by what you hear.” Luke glared at his friend. And then pulled his phone from his back pocket and connected to his message service, playing the only message recorded on there. “Kennedy doesn’t want me, convict. She wants you.” Addison’s voice slipped into his ear. “And now you’ve fucked it up. She saw you leaving the resort with the waitress. If you don’t fix this, dickhead, I will. I may be a knight in shining armor, but you’re the hero. Or at least, you’re meant to be.” Luke’s heart slammed in his chest like a sledgehammer. He stared at Aidan, his lips tingling as his blood surged through his veins, his head roaring. Aidan stared back at him. “What?” He didn’t answer.
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Leaping to his feet, he ran for the bungalow’s door. “Oi! Beaso!” Aidan’s shout caught him just as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob. He turned, a distant part of his mind registering Mack, Nick and Lauren standing in the kitchen gaping at him. He ignored them, fixing Aidan with an impatient glare. “What?” His friend grinned. “Don’t forget my buck’s party tonight.” Luke grinned back. “Don’t worry. The stripper’s all lined up and ready to go.” And with that, he spun back to the door, yanked it open and ran out into the resort, every molecule in his body pushing him to move faster. He didn’t stop running until he reached Kennedy’s suite. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t care who he ran past or ignored. Kennedy had chosen him. Him. And then watched him leave with Shelli. Stopping at her door, he fixed his stare on its wooden surface and drew one long slow breath. And another. He needed to force his body to calm. Before he kicked the door down, charged into Kennedy’s room and swooped her into his arms. You don’t know what she’s going to say to you, Beaso. She could tell you to go to hell. He studied the door, the dark thought cold and bleak. “I won’t know until I talk to her, will I?” he muttered. Mouth dry, nerve endings on fire, he stepped closer to the door and knocked. Twice. Nothing happened.
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Luke stood still, waiting. The door didn’t open. There was no sound from inside. “Fuck.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket, scrolling through the list of missed calls. When had Addison left the message? Was Luke too late? Had his cousin already stepped in to fix— The door swung open. Just like that, Kennedy’s suite door swung open, and Luke’s throat squeezed shut. She stood on the other side of the threshold, her eyes wet and red. “Kennedy,” he began, but before he could say anything else, she shook her head, stepped forward and pressed her fingers to his lips. He stared down at her, wanting to wrap his arms around her body, to say sorry, to tell her he was in love with her. To kiss her and make love to her. Instead, he didn’t move. Every muscle in his body locked frozen. She gazed up at him, her expression haunted. “I slept with Addison on the beach.” Her confession cut him to the soul. “I know.” “But I knew, by the time… I knew before we were even finished he wasn’t who I wanted to be with.” Luke clenched his jaw. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, her eyebrows knitting. “Did…did you have sex? With the waitress?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t. Not when the only woman I want to be with is you.” Kennedy closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. She turned away from him and lifted her arm, and it was only then that Luke noticed she held something small and black in her hand. A remote. The kind belonging to a sound
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system. She pointed the device into her suite and, with a slight press of her thumb music filled the air. A song. “…need a hero,” Bonnie Taylor cried from the speakers somewhere in Kennedy’s suite. The song may have kept playing. Luke didn’t know. Nothing existed except Kennedy grinning up at him, her tear-glistening eyes telling him exactly who the hero she was waiting for was. Him. He growled and destroyed the space between them, hauling her to his body and crushing her lips with his—lips he’d first claimed as his own four months ago. She groaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her hips pressing to his. Her tongue met his, fierce and hungry and demanding. He gave it back to her, his own tongue as greedy for her kiss as his cock was for her sex. He drove her back into her suite, lifting her from the floor as he kicked the door shut behind him. Their lips never parted, each devouring the other as Luke carried Kennedy across her suite, past the sofa into her bedroom. A distant part of his brain heard Bonnie Taylor still crooning about her hero and his stomach tightened. Hero. He was Kennedy’s hero. He would be her hero forever if she let him. He lowered her to the bed, her fingers tangling in his hair to draw him down with her. He complied, feasting on her lips as he slipped his hands under the loose cotton of her shirt and cupped her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, arching her back. Her breasts flattened under his palms, her nipples hard pebbles against his flesh. He pinched each one, loving the way she whimpered.
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Her hands raked at his shoulder, scoring his flesh through his shirt. It wasn’t enough. He wanted her skin on his, her sweat mingling with his. Tearing his mouth from hers, he straightened, yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside. Kennedy’s smoldering gaze roamed his bare chest, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in a swift breath. “You are so goddamn gorgeous.” He pressed a knee to the bed, smoothing his hands up her thighs. “So are you. But I think I’ve mentioned that a time or two.” She laughed. “I think you have.” His fingers reached the soft flesh of her inner thighs, and she shivered, closing her eyes. “Christ, I want you inside me,” she murmured. Luke leant closer to her. “Better get rid of these shorts then.” He hooked his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down over her hips and legs before she could reply. The scent of her arousal filled his breath immediately, delicate and musky, and so bloody potent. He growled, burying his face in her sex. She hissed, her hips rising, her thighs parting. He swiped his tongue over her folds, the salty-sweetness of her juices like ambrosia. “Oh, fuck, you taste so good, babe,” he growled against her sex. “I could survive on your cream for days and days.” Kennedy whimpered, pushing her pussy upward. He flicked his tongue over the tiny button of her clit, rolled its form back and forth until her whimpers became moans and her moans became cries. “Luke,” she gasped, her breath ragged. “Fuck me. Please. I want you inside me. Now.” He lifted his head from her sex and smoothed a palm over the flat plane of her hitching belly. “Not yet.”
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He returned to her folds, laving her flesh, her clit, with his tongue. Sucking on the small nub until Kennedy writhed and bucked on the bed. “Luke…” she panted. “Luke, please…” The sound of her raw pleasure sent fresh blood surging to his already rigid cock. It throbbed in his trousers, demanding release. He gave it, unzipping his fly one-handed as he fucked Kennedy with his tongue. She whimpered again, her heels driving into the mattress, forcing her hips upward. He captured her clit with his teeth and nipped, her responding cry pumping new steel into his dick. His head swam, the need to bury himself in her tight heat overwhelming him. To make her his, totally and only his. He wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping its hot length. Precome wet his fingers, the urgency of claiming Kennedy not just an emotional need, but a physical one. One he would soon meet. As soon as he sheathed his dick in a— “Ah, fuck,” he ground out, lifting his head from Kennedy’s sex and choking his throbbing cock. “I don’t have a condom.” Her eyes danced with blue desire, her breasts heaving as she stared at him down the length of her body. “I’m on the Pill.” Luke’s heart punched into his throat. For a split second, the thought of being surrounded by her wet, tight heat without a thin film of latex between them almost undid him. His cock pulsed in his grip, precome oozing from its tip. Inside her. Completely. Skin on skin, heat on heat… She smiled at him and parted her thighs wider. “I’m on the Pill and I want you to fill me with your come, fuck with me your mouth until you’re hard again and then pump me full of your seed once more. I don’t care about condoms. I just want you. All of you, Luke. Everything you are, everything you give me. Only you. Not just for this moment, but for all moments. Understand?”
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Her raw proclamation, uttered on a shaky breath, pushed Luke over the edge. He rose up between her spread thighs, parted her pussy lips with steady fingers and stared into her eyes. “I understand.” Kennedy’s smile turned dirty. “Good. Now fuck me, fireman. Fuck me hard. I’m in a world of sexual need here and I need my hero to save me.” He did as she commanded, sinking into her sex. Stretching her wide. Burying himself within her walls until his balls slapped her arse and the root of his shaft rubbed her clit. And then, as she begged him for more, he withdrew to the tip of his cock and drove back into her again. And again. And again. Because that’s what heroes did. Gave the woman they loved everything. And saved them from butterflies. Forever.
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Epilogue
Kennedy lowered her camera, smiled at Aidan and McKenzie and said, “That’s it. Last shot of the day.” The bride and groom—now husband and wife—smiled back at her before turning to each other. Aidan slid his arms around McKenzie’s small waist and tugged her a little closer—if that was even possible—to his body. “Hello, Mrs. Rogers.” McKenzie grinned up at him, and not for the first time since the wedding started, Kennedy was struck by just how tiny she was and how big Aidan was. “Hello, Mr. Wood.” Aidan laughed, the sound deep and completely joyous. “Yeah, yeah.” He lowered his head to hers and nudged her forehead with his own. “Whatever. Now get your arse on the dance floor, woman. I want to dance with you.” The newly married couple walked away from Kennedy, McKenzie giving her a little grin as she went. Kennedy stood to the side of Bar Evoke’s dance floor, watching them move to the center of the crowd. The wedding reception had been going for two hours now. The toasts had been made, the cake just cut. Now, it was all over but the dancing. The real dancing. On the small stage beside the dance floor, Nick Blackthorne tapped the microphone, waiting for everyone to fall silent as he smiled down at them. “This is a song called Today I wrote for Lauren, my fiancée.” His gaze moved to the woman standing with Mitch Wood to the side of the stage. “But I don’t think
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she’ll mind if I play it for Mack and Aidan now. After all, it was Mack and Aidan who made me realize I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” He looked back at the bride and groom standing belly-to-belly on the dance floor, the smile he gave them one of the sexiest in the world. “Well done, you two. Bloody proud of you.” The wedding guests laughed, and then silence fell over each and every one as Nick started playing his acoustic guitar. “I’ll hold you till you let me. And then plead for time…” he sang, his voice a husky timbre. “To let you know I’m sorry To make you mine.” The hairs on the back of Kennedy’s neck rose at the beauty of Nick’s voice. She raised her camera, capturing a few images of the world’s biggest rock star singing softly. Her heart raced. Who would have thought one move to a little island off the coast of tropical Australia could bring so many unexpected moments? “I see you and the convict got things sorted out?” She turned at the deep British voice, finding Addison standing beside her. “We did,” she answered, not sure what else to say. She hadn’t seen Luke’s cousin until the morning of the wedding, and the madness of photographing the event had prevented her from speaking to him. A thick pressure formed in her throat. “I…I’m sorry, Addison. This…this isn’t the ending I know you…” He bumped her gently with his shoulder. “It’s the ending it was meant to be.” He chuckled, his gaze scanning the crowd hypnotized by Nick’s singing. “I’m someone else’s knight in shining armor.”
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She studied his profile. He was correct. He was someone else’s knight. She just hoped whomever the lucky girl was she knew it. Addison was too wonderful to be messed about any more. “Thank you, Addison,” she said, rising onto tiptoe to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome, love.” His gaze slid to the space over her shoulder, a warm smile pulling at his lips. “She’s all yours, convict.” The warmth of Luke’s hands smoothing over her hips to pull her snug to his body made the pit of Kennedy’s belly do that delicious flip-floppy thing it always did when he touched her. “That she is, Ado,” he said, smiling at his cousin. “Now bugger off and flirt with the bridesmaids, will you?” Addison laughed. “If you insist. Oh, and don’t you dare wake me early tomorrow morning for a swim.” He grinned. “I think I’m going to sleep in.” With a quick brush of his lips on Kennedy’s, he turned and walked across the dance floor, now populated with couples moving to Nick’s song, only to be snared by one of the guests—Aidan’s great aunt Alberta, of all things—before he’d taken four steps. “Tell me,” Luke asked, spinning her slowly until she faced him, “how long are you planning on being the photographer here at Bandicoot Cove?” She frowned, resting her palms on his chest. “I don’t know.” Her throat grew tight, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting her. She’d gone and fallen in love with a man who didn’t live in the same state, let alone on Bilby Island. Her knowledge of Australian geography was still pretty limited, but she knew one thing: Bilby Island and Newcastle were nowhere near each other. She swallowed, all her happiness crashing around her feet in a big mess. Goddamn it, what the hell did she do now? “Why?”
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“Because I’ve got some seriously long service leave owed me by the State Fire Brigade. I’m thinking when Aidan gets back from his honeymoon I might take some.” Did Kennedy think her throat was tight before? God, she could barely draw breath. “And do what?” Luke’s hands smoothed down her hips to cup her ass, a glint she could only describe as devilish in his eyes. “Your boss just offered me a job. Bandicoot Cove’s official Fire Marshall and Safety Officer. I’m thinking of saying yes.” Kennedy swallowed. “You are?” He nodded. “I am. The job comes with some really nice perks.” “Like what?” He squeezed her ass and lowered his head, his lips barely brushing hers. “Like sleeping with the resort’s really gorgeous, wonderful photographer. If the really gorgeous, wonderful photographer isn’t planning on disappearing the first time I step into the shower, that is.” Kennedy smoothed her empty hand up his chest and touched her lips to his with gentle force. “You saved me from a savage butterfly attack, Luke Beasley. I’m afraid to say you’re stuck with me for good now.” He chuckled. “Well, in that case…” And with a suggestive growl, he pulled her onto the dance floor, and as she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, Kennedy thanked God for demonic, terrifying butterflies.
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About the Author
Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once. When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, an indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever. Contact
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www.twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.
Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper
Now Available: Death, the Vamp and his Brother The Sun Sword Tropical Sin Suck and Blow Triple Dare Dare Me Love’s Rhythm Savage Australia Savage Retribution Savage Transformation
Coming Soon: Suspicious Ways Dark Embrace
A second chance at love is worth fighting for.
Afternoon Rhapsody © 2012 Jess Dee
Bandicoot Cove: The Wedding, Book 1 Bianca Rogers is one signature away from finalizing her divorce. And she will finalize it just as soon as she gets home. But for this weekend, she’s putting her troubles aside and enjoying the gorgeous, sunlit luxury of Bandicoot Cove, the resort where her brother is getting married. The last thing she expects is to be knocked off her feet—literally—by gorgeous Brody Evans. The fireworks are instantaneous. Brody is just her type: sexy, warm, friendly, and in the same boat as her: in the process of getting a divorce. Spending time together is a mutual no-brainer. Attraction quickly grows to full-blown lust. But flying sparks come with increasingly personal conversations, and soon neither of them can ignore their past mistakes or the circumstances that have led them to the island. Now it’s time to determine whether old hurts and sudden doubts will prevent love from leading them to a whole new happily ever after. Warning: If you don’t believe in second chances, never thought it was possible to fall in love again and aren’t interested in scrumptious, hot love scenes, then this story probably isn’t for you. You’d be missing out—big time—but yeah…it’s probably not for you. Enjoy the following excerpt for Afternoon Rhapsody: “I have a beachside bungalow, not far from where we met this morning,” Brody told her as he quickened his pace.
She needed no encouragement to match his steps, although she had to take two for every one of his. “Me too.” Excitement fizzed inside her. “Whichever one we get to first, we go into.” “Deal.” Dripping wet, they scooted through the gardens, their steps increasing in speed from a brisk walk to a gentle trot to an all-out run. Bianca was about to shift into sprint mode when Brody took a sudden left and nipped behind an oasis of trees. He took her with him. “What the…? What are you doing?” He pressed his finger to her lips. “Shh.” That was when she heard it. Footsteps and animated chatter. She couldn’t identify the voices, there were too many of them, but the words wedding, groom and bachelor party drifted her way, and she was suddenly jolly appreciative of Brody’s quick thinking. Just like she wasn’t ready to face her parents, Danny or Great Aunt Alberta, so she wasn’t ready for anyone she knew to see her with Brody. Wasn’t ready for the speculative glances or raised eyebrows. Wasn’t ready for Rick’s name to come up while she was with him. “Good thinking,” she whispered. “Selfish thinking,” he whispered back, and kissed her again. And just like that, Bianca forgot all about the people walking by. Hidden from view, she forgot all about everything except the man who crushed her to him. The man whose back was bent so he could reach her mouth with his. The man whose erection seemed to have grown in the time it took them to cross the hundred meters from the pool to here. And she knew it had grown because she could feel it. Her hand was on the front of his boardies, cupping him. She had no memory of placing her hand
there, just a vague recollection of needing to touch him so badly, she thought for sure she’d die if she didn’t. Brody growled into her mouth but did not release her lips. Which suited her just fine, because she wouldn’t have let him go had he tried. Not when his tongue did deliciously naughty things to the inside of her mouth. Not when his lips pressed so enticingly against hers. Not when she inhaled the air he breathed. Brody’s soft growl changed to a ragged groan when the barrier of his wet boardies proved too annoying, and she slipped her hand beneath the sodden material, taking his hot, pulsing cock in her palm. Then it wasn’t just Brody groaning. Bianca let out a soft moan, the feel of his hard flesh enough to set fire to her loins. Satin-covered steel. She wrapped her hand around him, stroking up and down. Not easy. Not within the confines of his shorts, but God help her, she wasn’t letting go. Not for anything. Not when her actions made him shiver as they kissed. Not when liquid heat filled her pussy, her stomach clenched with desire and her heart pounded fiercely beneath her breast. Not when the throbbing vein lining his dick made her aware of how alive she felt with him. How her own blood roared in her ears. Pearls of moisture beaded on the tip of his erection. She stopped breathing. Ran her thumb over the wetness. Moaned. He tore his lips from hers. “Bee…” Her name was both a salutation and a plea. His eyes blazed with passion. Their bungalows suddenly seemed very far away. Unreachable. Didn’t matter. They could make it. If they walked really fast. Okay, sprinted, they could do it. Get there before the passion overwhelmed them. “Room,” she gasped. “We can make it if we hurry.”
Brody stared at her with wide eyes. “Not too far,” she muttered, her heart slamming into her ribs. “Not far at all.” “Y-you’re serious?” “Dead serious.” Disbelief filled his gaze. “We can run,” she assured him. His only response was a hoarse laugh. Hoarse and sexy. Bee would have replied but she couldn’t. Her mouth was otherwise occupied. As she’d presented Brody with her best verbal argument, she’d slid to her knees and yanked at the tie on his waistband, torn at the Velcro and finally gotten his boardies undone. Tempting and hard in her hand, his erection now pulsed before her eyes, its tip sodden. Bee couldn’t wait. No longer wanted to. She didn’t care where they stood. Trees surrounded them, their thick, lush foliage hiding them from view. She’d been a teenager the last time she’d done anything this bold, this daring. Last time she’d been giddy on fresh air and the great outdoors and a man she desired. She felt like that teenager all over again. Reckless. Hot. Free. Ravenous. She licked the moisture off the head of his cock. “Ah, fuck, Bee.” Brody tried to stop her. Grabbed at her arms, attempted to lift her back up, but she nuzzled her mouth against his belly, licking at the sensitive skin there before once again tasting the precome he produced for her. Instead of lifting her, Brody ran his hands over her shoulders, caressing, massaging. Logically he might have known they shouldn’t do this here. Physically he was in the exact same boat as her—powerless to fight the lust that had sparked between them this morning, flared during lunch and exploded in the pool.
Salt, chlorine and musk flavored her lips. The spongy tip of his cock pressed on her tongue, and Bianca could not restrain herself. She opened her mouth and devoured him. Sucked him deep inside, luxuriating in the sensation of his hard length pulsing between her cheeks. Her release was slow. A sensual exploration of satiny skin as she pulled off him. “Bee…honey…” Brody’s voice was a low rasp. The vibrations of his words rippled down her spine, making her shiver. She sucked him back in and then lost track of her actions. She simply enjoyed him, feasting on his succulent flesh, relishing the gasps and muttered curses that filtered through the air above her. She palmed his testicles and stroked the soft skin just behind as her mouth made love to him. Brody began to sway his hips, fucking her lips. No, not fucking. His actions were too gentle for that, too controlled, but Bee followed his lead, hollowing her cheeks, relaxing her tongue, and allowed him to direct his penis in and out of her mouth. She wrapped an arm around his thighs, let her hand slide over his firm arse cheeks and continued to tease his scrotum. Brody’s fingers tunneled into her hair, tightening and relaxing reflexively, as though he was unaware he moved them in time with his thrusts into her mouth. Wet heat flooded her pussy. Her breasts ached. Her clit tingled. But most of all, her heart filled. Warmth settled deep inside it, along with a sense of contentment. Of rightness.
A new lover, an old flame, sultry moonlit nights. Why let inhibitions stand in the way?
Moonlight Mirage © 2012 Sami Lee
Bandicoot Cove: The Wedding, Book 3 Two years ago, Hayley Bryant left Australia on a round-the-world odyssey that changed her life, and her attitude. After that, coming face to face with the man whose rejection sent her packing shouldn’t affect her at all, right? Except there’s one thing that hasn’t changed—her former boss Mitchell Wood makes her burn as hot as ever. The difference is, Hayley’s now a grown woman who knows how to get what she wants, and she wants Mitch. Trouble is, she hasn’t come to her friend’s wedding alone. Her very sexy friend with benefits, Ty Butler, might pose a problem. Business was always Mitch’s first love…at least until he hired his little sister’s friend as an intern. Pushing her away was the right thing to do, but now his sister’s wedding has Hayley re-entering his life—and the empty place in his heart. Soon he’s acting less like the consummate workaholic and more like a man crazy in love. But Hayley’s “plus one” is an unexpected obstacle. Fortunately, Mitch has never been one to shy away from a little competition… Warning: Bilby Island’s sensual spell strikes again. Book contains hot lovin’ made in beautiful tropical surrounds, some exhibitionism, voyeurism and bondage. Best read with a margarita in hand and the fan switched to high. Enjoy the following excerpt for Moonlight Mirage: “Are you calm?”
In a strange way, he was. Even with the force of his sexual needs coursing through him, the sense of urgency had faded to the background. Not fighting the inevitable was freeing. He wanted Hayley more than he’d ever wanted another woman, and admitting the truth of it was more calming than he ever would have expected. “Yes.” “Are you here, in this moment with me?” His answer was the absolute truth. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” At last, Hayley took her hands away from his face. “Open your eyes.” The brightness caused Mitch to flinch as he raised his eyelids. The muted colors of predawn had disappeared. What replaced them were brilliant rays of light in every conceivable hue from bright fuchsia to flaming orange to deepest magenta. Mitch regularly rose at dawn. He’d seen sunrises before. But this explosion of color was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Was it because of the location or the woman standing beside him? Or was it simply that he had never really looked before? “Isn’t it beautiful?” Mitch stared at the view before him, not turning his head to look at Hayley. He was afraid to. If the sky took his breath completely away, he was pretty sure his lungs would collapse if he saw Hayley bathed in all that glorious light. Unable to speak, he merely nodded. “This is what I wanted you to see,” she said. “The start of a brand-new day when everything is untouched until this amazing kaleidoscope of color washes over it, like painting on a blank canvas. When you truly experience the sunrise, you have to believe anything is possible.” Was she right? Could anything happen? Could Hayley forgive him for being a blind asshole, for not knowing what he was rejecting when he pushed her
away? Could a woman like Hayley Bryant ever really want a boring, stuffedshirt workaholic like Mitch Wood? “Mitch?” Mitch took a deep breath, filling his lungs in case it was the last time he’d be able to do it for a while, and turned to look at her. His chest seized, his heart stopped. The slightest of breezes lifted the curled strands of her hair, causing them to float around her face. The golden tresses were shot through with intense orange, making it look like a halo had formed around her. But she was more beautiful than any angel heaven could produce. She was a woman, and she was real, and she stood right before him with the look of wonder and awe on her face reflecting everything that was going on inside him. For a long time she held his gaze, saying nothing as the sky changed colors around them. Then her gaze lowered, trailing over his face until finally landing on his lips. It was all the invitation Mitch required. Without a word, he stepped toward her and brought his hands up to cup her face. Then he dipped his head. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for someone to taste like the sunrise, but Hayley did. She was beautiful and golden, and she enveloped him in glorious warmth. He let their lips meld in their own way, not trying to drive the kiss, using no technique whatsoever. The kiss turned brighter and hotter and more vivid until Mitch felt infused with the heat and life that was Hayley. Utterly lost, Mitch wasn’t even aware of taking her down to the sand. One minute he stood with his arms wrapped tight around her, the next they were horizontal. Writhing beneath him, Hayley drove her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. His fingers found their way beneath the hem of her top, trailing over the smooth flatness of her stomach. It wasn’t enough, so he shoved the garment upward, exposing Hayley’s breast to the gentle morning breeze. He cupped the soft mound and squeezed.
Into his mouth, Hayley gasped. Beneath him, her body arched, her back coming off the sand as she sought a more complete touch. Mitch granted her wish, using his thumb to graze her pebbled peak. It blossomed under his ministrations, growing ripe and plump and all too tempting. Breaking free of Hayley’s ravishing mouth, Mitch trailed his lips downward, over her collarbone and shoulder. He kissed around the puckered flesh, narrowly avoiding the sensitive point that silently begged for his attention. Hayley’s grip on his head started to pinch as she tightened her hold. “Mitch, please.” Lust surged through his veins. Goddamn, that was what he wanted to hear. Hayley desperate for his touch, begging him for it. “Ask again.” “Oh, God. Just put me out of my misery.” “Ask, damn it.” She gasped at his rough delivery, but when Mitch stared into her eyes he saw no discomfort or revulsion. All he saw was molten heat. Watching him, Hayley very deliberately circled her lips with her tongue. Mitch almost burst the seams of his shorts. Then she rasped, “Please,” and all Mitch could hear was that throaty request and the roaring of his blood in his ears. Not breaking eye contact, Mitch lowered his head and enclosed her nipple with his mouth, taking it in one long, slow suck. Crying out, Hayley curved her spine, thrusting her eager flesh deeper into him. Mitch rolled the distended peak against his tongue until Hayley said his name over and over again, punctuating it with breathy little pleas that drove him insane. When he lifted his head, Hayley’s hoarse protest delighted him. Mitch gazed down at her and was awed by the sight she presented. Her golden hair was tousled, the strands splayed across the sand like sunrays. Her green eyes glittered as bright as gems as they stared back at him. Her magnificent breasts
trembled with the force of her ragged breaths, and her skin was flushed pink with arousal. She was exquisite. The very thought that another man had seen her like this sliced him open, ruining the perfect beauty of the moment. Unprepared for the pain of it, Mitch defended himself in the only way he knew how—attack, contain, control. “How can you let him touch you when you respond this way to me?” he growled. “You’re mine, Hayley. Promise me he’ll never lay a hand on you again, and I’ll make you scream for me. Right here. Right now.”
