“Let me touch you everywhere.” He’s gentle until he nips the sensitive lobe, causing an involuntary gasp to part my lips. Taking it in, he sucks until the sting passes, bringing pleasure from pain.
It's wrong to allow this to happen yet it feels so right, and I don't stop his roaming mouth from hovering over my jaw. I haven't felt the heat of a man in so long. My skin aches for his touch and my body sings for the sweet relief he could bring. Flashes of what the firm grip of his fingers traveling over my body would feel like leaves an unexpected warmth to gather in my bikini bottoms. This is crazy. It’s been easy to turn away the countless men who’ve hit on me; I’ve been attracted to none of them until now. I’ve forgone physical contact and an emotional connection a part of me longs for. History is sure to repeat itself, leaving loneliness in the wake of pleasure derived from any man. This man included.
It’s time to stop the insanity, so I draw back. “You sound very close to begging.” Smiling to ease away from the moment, I wipe the bar down in front of him.
“I’m not opposed to it if it’ll help my cause.” His smirk causes my heart to pitter-patter like a schoolgirl in love for the first time. A ridiculous reaction, even if he is gorgeous. I let my eyes wander over lean muscle and his simple style, gray T-shirt stretched across a solid chest. I like what I see.
“You don’t strike me as someone who needs to beg to get the girl.”
“You’re right; I don’t. I always get what I want, Faith. And I want you.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Not this time. You can try to resist, but I’ll be in your bed before the night is through.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I can guarantee that won't happen.”
Our eyes connect and I’m sure he can see the determination in mine. His narrow, before he continues. “You sound sure of yourself.”
“For sure I’m sure. I never break my rules.”
He squares his shoulders and drops his eyes to half-mast. “Rules?”
“Three simple, hard and fast rules.”
“I can give you hard and fast, if that’s what you’re looking for. I can also break down any walls you’ve constructed in the guise of rules. If need be, I’ll break your bed too. ”
I roll my eyes and throw his smirk back at him. “Modesty becomes you.”
“I don’t need modesty when I have truth on my side.”
“What makes you so sure I want what you’re offering? I know nothing about you, not even your name.”
He tips his head and his ice-cold stare drives a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, I’m hot. A flush reaches across my chest and he bites his bottom lip while watching it spread into flames. When he finally talks, it takes a moment for him to drag his eyes away from my breasts to find mine.
“Maybe I’ll try another approach.” He clears his throat, sipping his beer to smooth out his voice. “Faith,” he says, and it worked. His tone is soft, but somewhat throaty, arousing in his deep delivery. “I’m Kyle Thomas Sommerton.” Reaching out, my hand automatically gravitates to his. He’s warm; his grip is hard. Strength flows through him and I sense there may be a bit of danger in the power simmering just below the surface.
“Born June first, 1983, my mother had a crazy crush on some guy named Magnum, so my middle name is driven from a T.V. P.I. with a porn-stache. My dad would have let her name me Marmaduke; he was just happy to have some testosterone in the house. After three girls he thought a boy would balance out the hormones, but I’m not so sure about that. I spent the first four years dressed up like a baby doll with bibs and ruffles.”
He’s talking fast, and I can’t help but smile as he clamps down on my hand and pulls me in. “To compensate, my dad bought me a lot of guns and I shot the shit out of their Barbies and anything pink. Mom called me a rogue cowboy until ten when my dad died in the line of duty. My fascination with guns continued, so she pushed me over to my granddad’s. He’s a philosopher. He’d fill me with stories and ideals on how to make this a better world.”
I giggle when he takes a second to drag in a breath and keeps going. “So that’s what I did. Make the world better, but not with words. I was a marine for two years past high school and I would have stayed, but the bullet in my side said otherwise. Damn fucking Afghan desert. When I got home I went in a different direction and it led me here. No wife, no kids, no girlfriend. I’m not one to mince words; you had to speak up in my family to get what you want. For me, right now, that’s you.” He smiles again, proud of himself.
I shake my head. He’s definitely all man with a boyish charm that’s endearing, but that doesn’t mean this is going anywhere. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”
The smile fades and his brow furrows, “With who?”
I giggle at the hint of threat in his eyes and his rigid jaw. “No, offense, but it’s none of your business.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see a tourist approach, he’s wearing a God-awful shirt with a colorful parrot on it, buttoned up the front. No doubt he’s trying to reincarnate his Jimmy Buffet days in a bad way.
“How about another drink?” he asks.
Untangling my fingers from Kyle’s I nod to the customer who pulled up next to him. “Sure, what’re you having?”
His face is sunburned, painful red skin stretched taut over his chubby cheeks. “Ahhh . . . how about a Sex on the Beach?”
All levity is driven into the sand with the thought of Kyle’s hard body under mine. With a glance in his direction, I see Kyle’s nostrils flare and chest expand on a sharp inhale.
Under his breath he whispers, “I like sex on the beach.”
I roll my eyes and smile, pulling the vodka and schnapps from the shelves behind me.
“How’d you end up here, Faith?” Kyle waves around the Tiki Hut, the bar I’ve worked at for the last two years. It’s perched on a pristine beach, white sand, and the brilliant blue ocean folding out in front of it. Every night I watch the sunset slide into the horizon, closing another day. The small island off the coast of southern Florida is my refuge, the Tiki Hut a haven to loose myself in the monotony of easy days. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a smooth wooden bar topped with a thatched roof, surrounded by sand and stools. Tables and lounge chairs sit alongside it, filled with patrons visiting the upscale, small island.
“I longed for the good life and it brought me here. Nights filled with Sex on the Beach and Screaming Orgasms.” I wink at Kyle, turning back to the customer with his bill. He's eyeing me up—actually, more like leering, after my comment—but I'm used to it. I can feel Kyle's eyes on me and I know he's checking me out too. Somehow his stare is different, welcomed with a thrill of knowledge. There's something between us: a hum of energy, a bizarre need, and a desire to break my rule and bring a stranger into my bed.
Chapter Two
Kyle
I’m trying hard to ignore the Screaming Orgasms. The well of sexual retorts that comment lays foundation for is deep, yet I don’t want Red over here to get any ideas. He already can’t stop staring. Faith’s so beautiful; she’s hit on all the time, I know this. It makes it difficult to think of having her for one night and leaving in the morning. She’ll be alone again. “What time do you get out of here?” I ask, reminding her I want to go, too.
She hesitates a moment, her eyes catching mine, looking deep and searching. I can tell exactly when she finds what she’s looking for. Her vision clears and stiff shoulders relax. “About fifteen minutes. The guys are closing the bar so I can go out.”