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No Strings... Page 9
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Page 9
They groaned in unison, and she went down on her forearms so that her back was completely arched, allowing him to slide even deeper inside her. With his hands at her waist again, he plunged into her, hard and fast, her body clutching around him hungrily, eagerly.
Another round of tension coiled low and tight in her groin, shocking her. She’d thought he’d wrung everything out of her with those two explosive orgasms, but apparently not, because she started to shake and quiver anew. She fisted the bed covers in her hands, desperate for something to anchor her in a sea of overwhelming sensation.
Behind her, Chloe felt Aiden’s restraint start to unravel as he began pumping against her in earnest. His hips surged forward, driving every last inch into her, and she cried out as blissful waves of ecstasy contracted through her, and around Aiden’s shaft. Seconds later, a harsh groan vibrated in his chest as he gave himself over to his own powerful orgasm.
He collapsed on top of her, bracing his forearms on either side of her head to keep his weight from crushing her. Still buried deep inside her, he pressed his face against her neck, the scent of his body and down-and-dirty sex surrounding them as their heart rates gradually slowed.
“God, you’re even more incredible than I imagined,” he rasped against her ear.
An exhausted, incredulous laugh escaped her. He’d just given her three amazing orgasms with utmost enthusiasm, had made her body sing in ways it never had before, and he was complimenting her? Unbelievable. He was the one who was incredible. And addictive, because now that she knew how good they were together, how was she ever going to give this, and him, up?
She immediately shook that unbidden thought from her mind, just as Aiden rolled off of her and got to his feet. He disappeared for a quick moment into the bathroom to take care of the condom and then he was back, pulling her into his arms, spooning her backside against his chest and thighs.
As nice as cuddling with him was, Chloe suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of apprehension brought on by his physical display of affection. Tonight was supposed to be about sex, no post-coital snuggling and getting close involved. And being held in his arms felt much too intimate. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable.
She swallowed hard. Giving her an orgasm while pinning her against the wall was just the way she liked things...aggressive and hot. But this was so much more than she’d bargained for with Aiden, and something warned her that falling for him, beyond this coworkers-with-benefits-for-a-few-days arrangement of theirs, wouldn’t be difficult to do. And that kind of attachment was something she could never allow—personally or professionally.
Needing space, she tried to wriggle away, but he tightened his arm around her waist, oblivious to her internal distress.
“Stay put, Reiss,” he said gruffly. “I’m not finished with you yet. I just need about a half an hour to recharge.”
I need to go. She swallowed back the panic rising within her, and tried to keep things light and superficial until she figured out a way to leave without making a scene. “What are you, the Energizer Bunny?”
He chuckled and replied drowsily. “Apparently, with you I am.”
She said nothing more, and within a few minutes she felt his body go lax and the rise and fall of his chest deepen. And even though the arm he’d secured around her loosened, her lungs seemed to burn with every breath she struggled to take.
Good Lord, she was going to hyperventilate! What the hell was wrong with her? The crazy temptation to stay the night warred with a deeper common sense. While a part of her liked the warmth and security his embrace provided—it had been much too long since a man had just curled up with her after sex—it was nothing more than a false sense of security. Besides, all this intimate, emotional crap slipping beneath the surface of her skin wasn’t what their agreed upon affair was all about, and she’d do well to remember that.
She waited another few minutes, until he relaxed once again and a soft snore rumbled from his chest before she gently lifted his arm and slowly moved off the bed. Leaving the lights off, she found her clothes and slipped her dress back on, sans underwear, and picked up her shoes from the floor. Then she made her way to the door.
If he heard her slip out of the room, this time he didn’t try to stop her, and she was relieved and grateful.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Aiden strolled into the dining room for the complimentary brunch the resort provided for its guests, surprised to find Chloe already there. She was sitting alone at a table at the far end of the room near a window overlooking one of the tropical gardens outside, eating her breakfast while writing something in a notebook—probably notes for their campaign. That’s exactly how he’d spent the past few hours, working on his own presentation and how to best use Hattie-the-matchmaker as his focal point for the campaign.
His stomach grumbled ravenously, demanding to be fed, and he headed straight for the omelet bar and put in his order, then piled his plate high with bacon, fruit and other side dishes. He filled a large glass with orange juice and added a cup of coffee to his tray, then carried his hearty meal toward Chloe’s table.
He honestly wasn’t sure what to expect from her this morning, not after the way she’d snuck out on him last night while he’d been dozing. The soft click of the door shutting had woken him up, and he’d instinctively known that she was gone. He’d gotten as far as tossing off the sheets and grabbing his pants to put them on so he could go after her, before realizing he’d be chasing after a woman who clearly didn’t want to be pursued.
The thought was a much needed reality check that this thing between them was nothing more than a casual island fling. He had no claim to her other than just sex. But he’d be lying if he said that being with Chloe was nothing more than an itch he’d been dying to scratch for the past two years.
Oh, they’d definitely indulged in a whole lot of pleasure, had finally surrendered wholeheartedly to the lust that had burned bright and hot between them for much too long. But afterward, as he’d pulled her into his arms, he’d been filled with a contentment that wasn’t all related to his physical satisfaction. It had more to do with how good and right she felt in his arms—more than any woman he’d been with since his divorce.
That realization was like a sucker punch to his stomach and definitely got his attention—because his mind had no business contemplating those thoughts with her. Ever. No matter what the island matchmaker, or the stamen of a flower, revealed.
So, while Aiden was disappointed with Chloe’s stealthlike exit last night, he understood why she’d felt the need to leave. She was trying to keep some semblance of normalcy between them, to keep their affair separate from the fact that they still worked together, at an agency that frowned heavily on inter-office romances. It didn’t matter that he intended to leave the company within the next few months, especially if he was the recipient of the five-figure bonus that would be awarded to the St. Raphael campaign winner. He and Chloe were opposites in all the important ways that mattered, which meant they had no future together beyond this week.
As he neared her table, she glanced up while taking a drink of her coffee, her eyes widening ever so slightly over the rim of her cup as she watched him approach. Wearing her hair in one of her sleek ponytails, she looked beautiful and fresh-faced, and he’d like to believe that the three orgasms he’d given her last night had something to do with the pink glow on her cheeks.
Yeah, he was totally going to take credit for that.
She was wearing a pair of white shorts, a pink lace tank top and sparkly flip-flops, trying to blend in with every other woman in the dining room. But to him, she stood out like an exotic fruit he wanted to taste—again and again.
Not wanting to risk a rejection until he got a feel for her mood, he didn’t bother asking if she wanted company, just set his tray down on the table and took a seat across from her. She said nothing, but the wary look in her gaze told him that she fully expected an interrogation about giving him the slip after last night�
��s sexcapades. Lucky for her, he wasn’t going to complain about it. Hell, he wasn’t even going to mention the issue because it was a discussion they didn’t need to have.
His plan was to keep things between them light, casual and fun. No morning-after angst necessary.
Scooping up a forkful of his omelet, he nodded toward her notebook. “Already hard at work?”
She shrugged and relaxed somewhat, her obvious relief softening her features. “I had some ideas about a catchy slogan running through my head that I wanted to get on paper before I forgot the words. I always swear I’m going to remember a brilliant idea because it’s so ingenious, but if I don’t write it down, it slips right through my mind.”
He caught the small inkling of a smile teasing the corner of her mouth, a positive sign that things were getting back to normal between the two of them. “I hate when that happens.”
She eyed the massive amount of food on his plate. “Somebody is hungry this morning.”
He finished eating a piece of bacon and chased it down with a mouthful of coffee, seeing in her eyes that she was teasing him. She clearly had a knack for compartmentalizing sex and work—maybe better than he could because when he looked at her mouth, all he could think about was how he enjoyed kissing her. And not just on the lips, because she tasted sweet everywhere. He knew that for a fact now.
He grinned wolfishly and waggled his brows at her. “What can I say? I worked up an appetite last night.”
She laughed and dropped her gaze to the slice of cantaloupe she’d picked up with her fingers, examining it more than necessary before taking a bite. She chewed, then spoke. “Speaking of last night, I think we need to establish some rules.”
“Okay,” he said, and waited for her to steer this conversation in whatever direction she felt necessary.
She licked the remnants of fruit juice off her fingers, making his gut clench with that familiar burn of desire for her. “I just want to be sure that we’re on the same page with this temporary affair.”
It was a legitimate enough request, and he simplified things for the both of them. “How about what happens at this resort, stays at this resort?” It was a clichéd line, but so appropriate to their situation. “Once we’re on the plane back to Boston, we leave it all behind and chalk it up to one helluva good time together. Then we go back to the way things were. Simple, easy and uncomplicated.”
Something that looked suspiciously like disappointment flashed in her eyes, then was quickly gone. “Agreed,” she said with a succinct nod of her head.
Rules were good, he told himself, and the one he’d just established put things between them back into proper perspective and gave them free rein to indulge in their desires and fantasies. “So, that still gives us four more days to enjoy each other, including today,” he said, even as a tiny part of him wondered if he’d be able to get enough of her in that short amount of time.
She flashed him a seductive smile full of promise. “I’m looking forward to it.” Finished with the rest of her fruit, she wiped her hands on her napkin. “I have a full schedule of things I need to do today to prepare for my campaign, including meeting with the photographer and the couple he hired for us to use in our shots, but tonight we have a choice between attending a toga party or a masquerade ball. What’s your pleasure?” she asked, her tone flirtatious.
“You,” he said without hesitation, infusing the one word with erotic intent. “Any way I can have you.”
She bit her bottom lip, her gaze flaring with reciprocal lust. “Well, since you had your way with me last night, I think it’s only fair that I get my turn this evening.”
Oh, hell yeah. Her invitation sent a rush of heat and anticipation through his veins, the kind that would undoubtedly have him spending most the day in a mild state of sexual frustration. “I can’t wait.”
“Me, either,” she practically purred as she rested her chin in her hand. “So, what’ll it be. Toga or masquerade?”
Since a toga party reminded him too much of his college fraternity days, he opted for something more low-key. “I vote for the masquerade party.”
“Mmm. That would be my choice, as well,” she said, her voice laced with approval. “It’s perfect for a little mystery and seduction.”
Her eyes—dark, sultry and teasing—told him that she was already thinking about all the ways to use that to her advantage.
“In the meantime, I have work to do.” She stood up, grabbed her notebook and smiled at him. “I’ll see you later, Landry.”
He watched the sweet sway of her ass as she walked away, his incorrigible mind filling with the arousing memories of how he’d taken her last night. He groaned to himself and was grateful when she finally disappeared from his view.
He finished his breakfast and decided to use his time wisely and get some work done, too. He had a meeting with Ricardo, the photographer, after Chloe’s appointment, and he wanted to find the most opportune places to stage some pictures that would best elevate his visual presentation and showcase his marketing ideas for the St. Raphael Resort.
But first, he wanted to talk to Hattie again, to see if he could figure out the best way to merge her traditional matchmaking methods with the resort’s current contemporary approach. Five minutes later, he entered the humid greenhouse and found Hattie talking to another young couple, and he hung back so as not to interrupt their conversation.
Hattie was dressed in yet another cheerful caftan dress, but today she’d worn her long braids down. They were entwined with tiny red flowers, and the length of them nearly reached her waist. As soon as she saw him, her eyes lit up with pleasure, though she didn’t approach him until after the other man and woman left the greenhouse.
“You came back, but where is the pretty woman you were with yesterday?” she asked, tipping her head curiously. “Did I scare her off with my bold prediction that the two of you belong together?”
He chuckled. Chloe didn’t scare easily, and despite the other woman’s claims, he knew the only way he and Chloe would ever be together was between the sheets. And as he’d discovered last night, that wasn’t a bad place to be with a woman as passionate as Chloe.
“Chloe had other things she needed to do,” he explained easily. “I’m here because I’d like to talk to you about your matchmaking abilities. I think the resort’s advertising could really benefit by utilizing you and that hybrid flower as an added draw, to romanticize the island and give guests an extraordinary experience they can’t get elsewhere. It’s a great marketing angle.”
Hattie’s brows furrowed into a frown. “Tell me something. Do you believe I have the ability to know when two people are meant for one another?”
Not wanting to offend the older woman, Aiden thought carefully about his answer before he spoke. “I think your intentions are honest and real, and I think that most people want to find that one special person, which makes it easy for them to believe in your intuition. When it comes to marketing and advertising, that’s all that matters.”
“What made you so skeptical when it comes to love?” she asked, her tone softening as she tended to the potted plant between them.
He shrugged, not wanting to get into a discussion about his failed marriage and bitter divorce with a woman he barely knew. “I’m just practical when it comes to certain things.” Like his feelings for Chloe, which did not include love or a future together. “But that doesn’t mean others wouldn’t benefit from your knowledge and instincts.”
She considered that for a moment as she watered the plant, then met his gaze, a secretive type smile on her lips. “I’ll agree to be a part of this marketing angle you want to use for your campaign, and maybe, by the time you leave the island, you’ll see for yourself that my prediction about you and Chloe is true, that the two of you are meant for one another.”
“Fair enough,” he said, though he already knew that Hattie was going to be sorely disappointed, because despite him and Chloe being sexually compatible, that’s all there would
ever be between them.
8
A WHILE LATER, when Aiden met up with Ricardo at their designated time, Chloe was nowhere to be seen. Aiden discussed the shots he wanted with the photographer, and they started their session with candid pictures of the different activities the resort had to offer. He arranged shots of the professional couple having drinks at the underwater bar at the pool, then on to a more romantic setting of them in one of the upgraded bungalows away from the main hotel. Lastly, they did a fun, playful session of the couple at the beach and frolicking in the ocean.
Aiden figured in the next few days he’d have Ricardo take some pictures of Hattie for him to add to his presentation, and he planned to tape a short video interview with her, too. The more the idea of focusing on the sentimental notion of a traditional matchmaker took shape in his mind, the more enthusiastic he became about the entire concept. Aiden didn’t yet know what ideas Chloe was considering for her presentation, but he was confident that he’d be giving the resort a unique and distinctive point of view that would ultimately award him the account. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t have to personally believe in Hattie’s intuitive nature in order to pitch a convincing and effective campaign.
A few hours passed to midafternoon, and just when Ricardo called the final session a wrap and his crew began packing up all their equipment, Aiden caught sight of Chloe making her way down the pathway to the beach, clearly intending to enjoy the rest of her day now that her work was done. She was wearing a white cover-up and flip-flops, and was carrying a canvas tote bag. She headed toward the private cabanas set up on the sand, not even noticing him standing beneath a large palm tree with Ricardo, in the opposite direction.
As he waited for Ricardo to finish talking to the models, Aiden’s gaze strayed back to Chloe, who’d found a vacant cabana with two lounge chairs. She was peeling off her white frock. He nearly swallowed his tongue when she revealed the itty-bitty turquoise bikini that showcased her amazing figure. The top drew his attention to her full, pert breasts, and the tiny bottoms accentuated her slim hips and long, slender legs. She bent over to retrieve her suntan lotion from her bag, then began rubbing the silky oil along her shoulders, arms and chest, over her flat stomach, her thighs, her calves—making him wish he was with her to do the deed himself.