Tempting the Tycoon

Chapter 11

She tasted of summer. Of wind and sun and sand. Her flavor promised freedom, like a warm afternoon sail, and he found one taste wasn't enough. Her mouth softened under his initial sampling, inviting him back for a more thorough exploration. He dove in.

Cupping her face, he held her head still, his thumbs feathering over the silky skin of her cheekbones. She tilted her head back in surrender, a tiny whimper of approval escaping into his mouth from between her parted lips. His tongue slipped through that opening, taking swift command of that space with one sweep.

No, she didn't taste of summer after all, he thought in confusion as his tongue continued stroking the insides of her mouth. She tasted like raspberries picked at the height of the season, ripe and sweet and addicting. And innocence and allure, tempting but shy. She was all of these and more, and he couldn't get enough.

Her hands found their way to his shoulders, and she melted into him. Her breasts squashed against his chest, and he grunted with approval at the feel of all that softness. He moved one of his hands to the back of her head and the other to the small of her back, pressing her along the entire length of his body.

His erection nudged her belly. She gave a startled "Oh!" at the movement, and he smiled against her lips. He couldn't control the reaction of that part of him even if he wanted to, which he didn't. It was about time she knew what she did to him, why he didn't give a damn if they were boss and employee. This game of "Tease his dick" had to end. He wasn't used to working this hard for a woman's body, and frankly he thought he'd put in enough effort. It was time he reaped the reward.

He thrust his hips forward in mimicry of his tongue in her mouth, rubbing that part of him against her wet, nearly nude body. In timid eroticism, the tip of her tongue touched his, and his control slipped. He slid the hand at the small of her back down into her bikini bottoms.

God, he thought he'd come right then as his hand skimmed over the flare of her hips, stopping at the rounded fullness beneath the flimsy material of her two-piece. Her skin was cool from the water, soft, squeezable. Growling into her mouth, he gripped her butt, cupping it, the tips of his fingers sinking into its cleavage--

She pushed on his shoulders in definite refusal, gave a tiny "No," against his lips with an even weaker shake of her head. In disbelief he stopped his exploration, withdrew his hand from inside her bikini bottoms and laid it atop that scrap of material.

In mute defiance he pulled her tight against him once more. His heartbeat thundered against hers. Their chests rose and fell like twin bellows as he raised his head to look into her face, to find out why she'd put the brakes on the sensual moment.

She met his bewildered gaze head on, biting her lower lip, which was swollen from his kisses. And he saw desire and doubt at war in her expression. He could tell part of her wanted him to continue his caresses, but the other part, the part she listened to, unfortunately, told her no.

Her reluctance would be the death of him. Her reaction, her eyes, that killer body all screamed to be taken by him. Except for those strong, slender bartender's hands that had pushed him away.

"No, not here. Not now. You're too-- I'm not--"

She sounded regretful. She looked miserable, like he had killed her cat instead of tried to initiate lovemaking. And, what was up with her cryptic "You're too--?" He was too what? Too demanding? Too forward? Too big?

Whatever she'd meant, she'd managed to deflate his erection, though if he watched her chew her lip much longer he'd have another one. She was one sexy woman. One sexy, unwilling woman who had only increased his desire to get to know her even beyond the bedroom, starting now.