trista ann michaels

Wicked Lies

Trista Ann Michaels

Published 2012

ISBN 978-1-59578-892-4

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Wicked Lies. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://LSbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Blurb

Marcus has been playing someone else for years. When he meets the woman of his dreams, he has no choice but to lie to her as well; even when the seduction begins. He has a weekend to make her fall in love with him. Hopefully, fall in love with him enough that when he finally comes clean, she won’t hate him. That may prove to be a little tougher than he initially thought, especially when the truth comes out at the most inopportune time.

Chapter One

“Who in their right mind works two years for a man they’ve never even seen?” Karen tossed another shirt into Sinclair’s suitcase. Karen always felt she knew best when packing for her friend.

“Or talked to on the phone,” Sinclair replied in a sing-songy voice as she neatly folded the outfits Karen threw her way. Sinclair had heard this speech a thousand times already. She knew her friend worried, but truthfully, she wished she wouldn’t. If nothing bad or questionable had happened in two years, nothing would.

Karen’s deep brown eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You’re not taking this the least bit seriously.”

Sinclair Sheridan relented and gave her friend an apologetic nod. “You’re right. I’m not. But, Karen, come on. I’ve been working for the guy for two years. He pays well, rewards for a job well done even better. I don’t work nine to five—”

“No, you’re on call twenty-four seven, three sixty-five. Now you’re flying off to some remote location in the Caribbean just because he sent you a text. We had plans.”

“I know we had plans and I’m sorry. I need to check out some new property he’s bought, see how the employees do, how the food is. You know, the usual. I’ll be back in a few days.”

Her friend snorted. “If you were smart, you’d stick around a while with that gorgeous pilot … what’s his name again?”

Sinclair grinned. “Marcus.”

“Yeah, Marcus. Maybe he’ll whisk you away. I must admit, I’m a little jealous of the idea.”

Sinclair giggled. She wouldn’t be opposed to his
whisking
her away. Not at all. Marcus Rogers was definitely all alpha male, a cocky pilot with the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen on a man. His dark brown hair was longer than she usually liked, but she had to admit she admired the way it curled around his shoulders. His wide, muscular, tan shoulders. She drew in a long, deep sigh.

Karen had been hinting Sinclair should seduce him ever since she’d first met him a year ago when she’d picked Sinclair up at the airport. From that day on, Karen had become her taxi and always joked about stealing him away from her every time he would smile that smile of his at her friend.

Shaking her head, Sinclair returned her thoughts back to Karen and the open suitcase lying on her bed. “Marcus is just my transportation.”

Karen snickered. “Yeah, okay.” She tossed a pair of short shorts and a red bikini top into the suitcase. “Since you’re ditching me and flying off to a warmer climate … you should at least have a little fun.”

Sinclair glanced up and wondered at the concerned look in Karen’s eyes. “What’s got you so worried about my job all of a sudden anyway?”

Karen shrugged and brushed her dirty blond hair over her shoulder as she began to rummage through Sinclair’s make-up bag. Karen was her self-appointed travel manager. She made sure Sinclair had whatever she needed to attract a man, despite the fact Sinclair didn’t really want one at the moment.

“I think I’ve just been watching too many thriller movies.”

“Ya think?” Sinclair asked with a grin.

“I just think it’s awfully strange that in two years you’ve never met him in person. I saw something on CNN the other day—”

“And there it is.”

Her friend harrumphed in annoyance. “There
what
is?”

“Karen, you’re seeing problems were there are none, I promise.”

“You’re probably right, but… The whole thing just seems so off the wall to me. It always has.”

“I know,” Sinclair admitted.

Karen had tried her best to talk her out of taking this job and even though she’d finally relented and agreed to support Sinclair, Karen still reverted to her initial unease. Today was one of those days.

Sinclair couldn’t blame her. Even she could admit to a little curiosity and unease. She’d even tried Googling him a few times. Unfortunately, she’d found nothing. Despite a few news articles, multi-millionaire business tycoon Alexander Deveraux was a mystery. There were no pictures, no history other than speculation.

Her offer of a job had come from his main assistant, Jim. Apparently the man usually had two. His workload was so heavy there was too much for just one assistant. His previous second assistant had died in a car accident and Alexander was in need of another. He’d come across her resume when she’d actually applied for a different position within the same company.

Despite the weird set-up, she couldn’t ask for a better job. The pay was incredible. She had free reign to handle things as she saw fit, unless he gave her strict instructions otherwise, which was rare. Most of her duties came through email, text, or sometimes through Jim.

According to him, Alexander was a recluse who hated the public and therefore kept to himself, doing ninety-eight percent of his business through the internet. He had plenty of money, so Sinclair believed he could live as he saw fit. He had that right. And she had the right to work whatever job she wanted.

She stood straight and dropped one final top into the suitcase. “Karen. I’ll be fine. I’ve gone off on several of these trips and I’ve always come back in one piece, right? This one won’t be any different. And besides, I’ll have Marcus with me for protection.”

“Lucky you,” Karen replied with a smile. “I know you will. I’m just being difficult. I’m going to miss you while you’re gone.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

Sinclair embraced her friend in a reassuring hug. Karen had been her best friend for years. They were like sisters and they hated being apart.

“Enjoy your trip,” Karen said with a sigh. “And bring me back something nice.”

Sinclair laughed. “Don’t I always?”

* * * *

Sinclair climbed from the limo and adjusted the sunglasses on her face. Marcus stood by the Gulf Stream IV, a small sexy jet that could fly to Europe without having to stop for fuel, doing what he called his pre-flight walk around and tire check.

Dressed in his usual uniform of black slacks, white shirt and black tie. With the gold striped epaulets across his shoulders, he appeared very professional and his upper body very wide. The uniform suited him and accentuated a narrow waist and hips. His wavy dark brown hair was pulled back at the nape, giving his face a more serious appearance.

The driver grabbed her bags from the back of the car and carried them to the jet. Sunlight reflected off the black paint job of the plane and she squinted, despite the sunglasses. There were about four planes in the whole feet. They had no markings, no designs, just black. The color gave it a mysterious and dangerous appearance. If a plane could be sexy, then this one with its sleek design was definitely that.

Cold wind blew against her legs and she shivered, pulling her coat a little tighter around her. She hated winter. In some ways she was looking forward to this trip if for no other reason than to get out of the cold for a few days.

Marcus turned and his eyes met hers. He smiled and her legs, that normally held firm, now shook with butterflies. He was so handsome he often took her breath away. More than once he’d spoken to her and she’d stared at him speechless like an utter idiot. Marcus would just grin knowingly and return to whatever it was he’d been doing. At least he hadn’t teased her about it.

“Afternoon, beautiful,” he called over the wind.

Sinclair warmed slightly at his usual greeting. He was such a damn flirt. Not just with her but with every woman out there. Marcus didn’t discriminate. Tall, short, overweight, skinny, beautiful, not so beautiful, Marcus made a point to say something nice or sexy to all of them. It was one of the many things she admired about him. He didn’t just talk to the pretty ones, he talked to all of them, and when he did, he made her feel as though she were the only one in the room.

“Afternoon. Are we ready to head out?” she asked.

“Anxious to get out of the cold, huh?” he teased.

She stepped closer. “You could say that.”

He nodded toward the plane. “You can go on up if you want. It’s warm inside. I also made a pot of coffee.”

“Oh, God love ya,” she said with a happy sigh. “Coffee sounds wonderful right now.”

“Just save me a cup,” he called as she jogged up the steps.

Stepping inside the warm cabin, Sinclair didn’t pay too much attention to the beige leather interior. She’d seen it so many times now it failed to impress. As she stepped into the small galley, she let her fingers trail along the shiny wood trim of the cabinets. She enjoyed the feel of this wood. It was so dark, so soft. She would love to have a house full of furniture made from the same wood.

She heard Marcus behind her as he made his way up the stairs and into the cabin. Her heart did a little flip of excitement as she reached to open the upper cabinet and pull down two ceramic mugs with lids.

“Still take it black?” she asked over her shoulder as he passed behind her and into the cockpit.

“Of course,” he said with a grin that made her stomach flutter.

God, he made her crazy with just a simple look. If she ever got drunk around him, she’d embarrass the hell out of herself by making a pass at him. Or worse, seducing him. She had no business doing that, although she could definitely admit, at least to herself, she fantasized about it.

His wide, thick shoulders dwarfed her, but she never felt intimidated. She felt safe when he was close. More than once his “don’t mess with me or mine” stance and hard-as-stone stare had scared off more than one guy who had gotten too aggressive. He’d turned out to be quite handy to have around on occasion.

He’d never made a pass, though. He’d flirted, teased, even lightly touched a time or two, but not once had he tried to kiss her. She pursed her lips in deep thought as she poured their coffee. Did he not find her attractive? Sometimes she caught him watching her, but if he wanted her he never let it show. Maybe it was because they both worked for the same man … maybe. Or maybe he just didn’t see her that way.

She had to admit sometimes she wished he did. Sometimes, she wished he would just grab her and kiss her senseless. It had been so long since she’d had sex. Toys were great, but after a while, even that didn’t do it.

The whine of the jet engines let her know they would be taking off soon, so she pushed her naughty thoughts of Marcus aside and tightened the lids on their cups.

Grabbing both of them, she stepped into the cockpit and handed him one over his shoulder.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured as he took it from her, but kept his eyes on the instruments in front of him.

He often used endearments when he talked to her, but it still never failed to make her spine tingle.

“You’re welcome, darlin’”, she replied before turning and stepping back into the cabin.

She didn’t miss his chuckle and smiled to herself as she settled into one of the six leather seats and made herself comfortable for the flight. The small phone next to her beeped and she quickly picked it up, knowing it would be Marcus on the other end.

“It’ll take us about five hours, give or take, to get there. We’ve got a strong tail wind that will help push, so I’m hoping we can shave a little off that time.”

“Sounds good. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy,” she replied, enjoying the sound of his deep baritone voice through the phone line.

“Have you ever been to this place?” he asked.

She grinned slightly. “Never even heard of it, much less been to it. You?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Really?” she asked, intrigued. “Then you know more than I do. He didn’t send me much information. I’m assuming it’s a pretty large piece of property.”

“It’s not property, baby. It’s a resort.”

She remained silent for a few seconds. “A what? Never mind. I’m coming up front.”

She hung up the phone and headed to the cockpit. Marcus settled his headset and adjusted the mic so it rested in front of his lips as he continued to fly through the preflight checklist with the speed of someone who’d done this a million times or more.

She leaned against the doorjamb and placed her palm against the other side as she frowned down at a grinning Marcus.

“Okay, spill it. What do you know that I don’t?”

“I don’t know a thing,” he said, grinning.

“You said it was a resort.”

“It is.”

“What kind of resort?”

His lips twitched and he had a twinkle in his eye that made her think he knew more than he was letting on. “Let’s just say you’re in for a surprise. It’s not your average Caribbean resort.”

“Marcus—”

He held up a finger and she could hear the voice coming through his headset loud and clear, giving him clearance to proceed to the runway. This conversation would have to wait. The tower always came first, which was as it should be. Detroit airport was crowded and Marcus needed to have one hundred percent of his attention on flying and the circling traffic.

He put his fist over the mic and winked. “Relax. You’ll love it.”

There was something about the deep, sexy tone to his voice that made Sinclair question just how much she might love it. If there was one thing Sinclair hated most, it was surprises.

Chapter Two

Sinclair watched out the window as the small island in the distance came closer into view. For the first time since receiving the email about the purchase, she began to wonder just what kind of property it was.

She glanced down at her computer screen and the email with the list of what he’d asked of her. It had just arrived and she’d read through it quickly. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, nothing really to indicate the size. Make sure staff was pleasant, check-in ran smoothly, and rooms were clean. As far as the staff knew, she and Marcus were just guests. No one knew, or at least no one was supposed to know, who they really were. Same routine as always.

It was one of the best ways to spy on employees. They would never be rude or lazy around the boss, but they might be to just a normal guest.

With a sigh, she looked up and leaned to the right so she could see into the cockpit. Marcus was engrossed in the instruments before him but she couldn’t help admire the width of his shoulders over the top of his seat. He was so tall, well over six feet. She found it hard to believe he could even squeeze into the tiny space at all, much less be comfortable.

The phone beside her beeped and she jumped, her face heating with embarrassment. He didn’t know she’d been staring at him, surely. She licked her lips nervously and picked up the receiver, putting it close to her ear. Why the hell was she so jittery all of a sudden? She’d been on trips with Marcus before.

“I’ve got clearance to land, so make sure you’re buckled.”

“I am.” She reached down to adjust the buckle of her seatbelt, making sure it was tight.

“We may have to extend our stay a bit.”

“How much longer and why?”

“As to how much longer, that’s unknown. I’ve got an indicator light on I want to have checked out. We’re fine for now, but I want it fixed before we head back out. If the island doesn’t have one, I may have to fly a mechanic in.”

“Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

“It’s on your left. Check it out.”

With that he hung up and Sinclair returned the phone to its cradle. She shut her laptop and turned her attention out the window and back to the island. As she watched it come closer into view, her mouth dropped open in surprise. The damn thing was huge.

The resort itself sat smack in the middle, surrounded on all sides by ocean, with a small landing strip on the north side. On the south side was a cove filled with ships of all sizes. Tiny people dotted the beaches and surf. No cars that she could see. Only paths and trails for bikes or walking, although she did see what looked like golf carts.

The main lodge rested right smack in the center, thick tropical foliage protecting it from prying eyes. Several smaller buildings and cabins dotted the perimeter—some in the middle of the tropical plants, some right on the beach. It was definitely a beautiful spot—a perfect romantic getaway.

As they came closer to the landing strip, Sinclair watched the white caps slam against the beaches. Below the turquoise water, she could see dolphins and coral, even a couple of snorkelers. She smiled slightly as she watched them follow a school of fish away from the reef.

Marcus landed the plane smoothly as always and she quickly unbuckled, anxious to step out and feel the sun on her face. It had been a rough winter in Michigan this year and she’d seen enough snow to last a lifetime. She wanted to feel the heat of the sun on her skin, feel the sand between her toes.

And don’t forget Marcus’s touch.

She glanced up and noticed him stand. He reached up and grabbed the doorframe, leaning his hips forward slightly to stretch out his back.

“Feeling cramped?” she asked as his eyes met hers across the cabin.

One side of his lips lifted into a half smile. “Sort of.”

He stepped to the door and opened it, allowing the warm tropical breeze to filter in. With it came the salty smell of the ocean and the sweet scent of flowers. She inhaled deeply, and then sighed as she let it out.

Marcus looked back at her and she felt the heat of a blush move over her cheeks for what must have been the fifth time since they’d taken off. “It smells wonderful,” she said with a shrug.

“That’s nothing. Wait till you get up here.”

Sinclair smiled and reached down to slide her laptop into the case. She grabbed her things and made her way toward the warm, sea air pushing through the open doorway. Marcus stood by the door, waiting for her just like he always did. He never let her disembark without him. He was always close by, always watching out for her.

With a smile as she approached, he reached out his hand and took the laptop case from her. “I’ll get that.”

She turned to head down the stairs when a young man barreled up to greet them with enough enthusiasm to drown them. “You must be Mr. Rogers and Ms. Sheridan. The tower let me know you were landing.”

Marcus nodded. “That would be us.”

“Wonderful. If you’ll just follow me, concierge will get your luggage and meet us at your cabin.”

He turned to walk back down the stairs, expecting them to follow. She pinned Marcus with a glare. “Cabin? As in one?”

Marcus shrugged and with a wave of his hand, indicated she should follow the young man. “He misspoke I’m sure. If not, we’ll work it out at the front desk.”

Unfortunately, the front desk wasn’t much help. Sinclair stared at the young man behind the check-in desk in shock. She and Marcus were in the same room?

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “There was only one room reserved for you, but it does have two bedrooms. It’s one of the larger cabins on the eastern side of the island. Sunrises there are unreal—”

“I don’t care about the sunrise,” Sinclair snapped, interrupting him. She glanced toward Marcus for help, but he wasn’t any. Instead, he stood off to the side, his arms crossed, one hand over his mouth, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Well? Are you going to say something or just stand there?” she asked.

Marcus’s eyebrow rose in surprise as he dropped his hand. “And just what is it you expect me to do or say? They either have it or they don’t, Sinclair.”

She sighed and he grabbed her elbow, pulling her off to the side. Her skin heated where he touched and she frowned down at her arm. Marcus must have thought she didn’t want him touching her because he removed his hand immediately and her heart dropped to her stomach. She liked his touch.

“We’ve traveled together before. We’re not strangers. You know me. I’m not going to rape you in the middle of the night.”

“I know—”

“And besides,” he added, his lips twitching into a sexy grin that made her knees weak. “It’s not like I’m asking you to play a game of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’.”

Sinclair rolled her eyes and turned back to the desk.

“Ah, come on. That was funny,” he called after her and she had to fight hard not to let her lips move from the frown. She wanted to smile, to giggle. Marcus could see the humor in this but for her it was just too close for comfort. She was attracted to him—seriously attracted. She dreamed about him, masturbated to her thoughts about him, and the last thing she wanted was for him to figure that out. They worked together. Emotions stayed out of the workplace. Period. This job was too good to lose.

“The cabin will be fine,” she said, filing his name to memory for her notes later. Would her boss find this as amusing as Marcus had? She glanced over at him as he strolled back to the counter. “Did you ask about a mechanic?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “He’s going to check the plane out and get back with me before dinner.”

She nodded and signed the slip the young man slid across to her. Once settled and keys in hand, they headed out to the parking lot and the small golf cart that would take them to their cabin. Sinclair climbed into the back and Marcus jumped in next to her instead of sitting in the front with the driver like she assumed he would.

“Sinclair, I’m sorry,” he said softly and she turned to look at him in surprise.

“For what?”

“For what I said. That was out of line.”

Sinclair shook her head. “No it wasn’t. It was actually funny. I was just pissed off about the room.”

“It’ll be fine.” He reached over to pat her knee, giving it a little squeeze before removing his hand.

The slight touch made her stomach jerk and she inwardly chastised herself for even thinking what she was. As they made their way through the narrow, tropical paths, Sinclair took a moment to enjoy the scenery and the warm weather. It was so pretty here and she understood why her boss had bought it.

Off the side of the road was another golf cart that had come to a stop beneath the shade of a tree. In the front seat was a couple making out, but as they got closer, Sinclair realized they were doing more than making out. They were having sex.

The woman straddled the man’s lap, her hips wiggled wildly against him. Her head had fallen back and her breasts were bouncing with her movements. The man’s hands were on her waist, holding her against him as she rode him fast and wild. Sinclair gasped but couldn’t look away.

As they passed the couple, her gaze wandered back to Marcus, who sat watching her with an amused expression on his face. She quickly turned to look out the other side of the cart, embarrassed he’d caught her staring.

Just that quick image of the couple having sex sent her hormones into overdrive and she imagined her and Marcus in that same position. His hands would fondle her breasts as his cock filled her to her womb. Every inch of her flesh tingled with the image. Even her nipples tightened behind her bra, making her shift slightly in her seat.

She’d never seen him naked from the waist down, but she’d bet her last dollar he was huge. He had to be; he was huge everywhere else.

“I can’t believe you didn’t research this place before you left,” Marcus said with amusement.

Sinclair sighed softly. “I thought it was just another private island like the ones he’d bought before.”

“Well. It
is
a private island … for BDSM enthusiasts.”

Sinclair closed her eyes.
Son of a bitch.

Chapter Three

“This is so not funny.” Sinclair paced the open living area of their cabin.

Marcus kept chuckling as he watched her pace. Why was she so nervous? He knew why he was. He wanted her, bad, and he was worried how all this was going to play out.

Her shoulder-length blond hair sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through the open French doors and his hands itched to grab a handful and pull her to him so he could taste her; every inch of her. Her mouth, her cream, he wanted to taste it all and make her scream in pleasure.

“He sent us to a BDSM resort,” she snapped. “What on earth was he thinking?”

“That you would check it out with your usual professionalism.”

“Oh, yeah. My professionalism,” she replied sarcastically. “I showed great professionalism at the front desk.”

Marcus grinned. She’d be seriously pissed if she knew the cabin had been his doing; so had the maintenance for the plane. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. He just wanted a reason to keep her here for a while. At least long enough he could seduce her. A few more images like the one they’d seen on the way here and seduction would be easy.

He hadn’t missed the way her nipples had hardened behind her bra, or the way her eyes had widened, then turned to a darker shade of green, as desire raced through her body. Sinclair was a spitfire and he’d bet that same passion carried over to the bedroom and he was dying to find out—dying to feel her curvy body next to his, feel her legs wrapped around his waist as he sank into her.

He shook his head at the direction his thoughts were taking. If he didn’t settle down, his bulge would give him away.

“Mistakes happen all the time,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

She walked over to the door and leaned against the doorjamb. With her arms crossed in front of her, she stared out toward the beach which was just steps away.

He walked up behind her and put his hands gently against her shoulders. She stiffened at first, then relaxed as he gave them a soft squeeze.

“Do you suppose they’ll be more of that around the resort?” she asked.

“More of what?”

“Public sex.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Okay, that was a lie. He really did know, but he didn’t want to tell her that. Not yet anyway. God, he was going to hell for this, but he’d boxed himself into a hole that no matter how he worked himself out, the end would probably be disastrous.

He had to do it. Sinclair was all he could think about anymore. Leaning down, he inhaled the flowery scent of her hair and had to fight the urge to kiss her neck. He closed his eyes and let out a tense sigh. She hadn’t moved. She still stood in front of him, his hands on her shoulders, the heat of her skin warming his chest. Her head turned slightly as though she wanted to look at him over her shoulder.

Was he scaring her? Or was she as turned on by him as he was by her?

“I’m starving,” he whispered, trying to break the suddenly steamy mood.

He wanted her, but he wanted to wait till the right time. When she was freaked out by everything that had happened was most definitely not the right time.

She giggled and turned to face him. She was so close he could see the gold flecks in her eyes. Long dark brown lashes fluttered slightly as she gazed up at him with eyes so damn dreamy he could get lost in them. She appeared slightly surprised as her lips parted and she drew in a quick breath of air, apparently whatever she was going to say forgotten. God, he knew that feeling.

His cock did an immediate salute of attention and he almost cringed. Lifting his right hand, he fingered a blonde curl. “I don’t know about you, but I could go for a burger or something.”

“Um…” she murmured and stepped back. “Yeah, I could go for something to eat, too.”

He smiled slightly as he realized disappointment shined in her eyes. She’d wanted him to kiss her. His smile widened when she moved to grab her purse off the counter that separated the small kitchen from the living area. If she wanted a kiss, he’d definitely give her a kiss.

But not yet. He’d make her wait for it.

His gaze wandered lazily down her curvy figure and his fingers twitched to skim over those curves. He liked fuller-figured women. She wasn’t a stick figure, she was a woman with hills and valleys and hips that swayed seductively as she walked. He would guess her size to be about a nine, maybe an eleven. Her breasts were definitely Ds. As he studied her long-sleeve top he realized she wasn’t dressed for this weather or this resort for that matter.

“You might want to change before we go eat, sweetheart. I don’t think you’ll be very comfortable in that.”

She glanced down at her herself in surprise. “Crap,” she said in frustration. “I forgot.”

It made Marcus feel good he could distract her that much. “I can wait.”

She started to turn toward one of the two identical bedrooms, but stopped and let her eyes wander down his body. His traitorous cock immediately responded and he plopped down on the arm of the chair closest to him to hide the fact.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow and he almost chuckled. “Going to dinner in your uniform?”

He shrugged. He wasn’t, but he thought he would tease her just for the fun of it. “Why not? Women like men in uniform and I have a feeling people of the opposite sex might be nice to have close at hand in this resort.”

Her lips twitched. “Or a drawer full of toys.”

“Not the same thing.”

She grinned and turned to walk away. “Then you don’t have the right toys.”

“If you think toys are better, then you obviously haven’t been with the right man,” he called after her.

His gaze dropped to the sway of her ass as she made her way to the other bedroom. His cock hardened even more as he imaged her using some of those toys. Or better yet, him using some of those toys on her himself during foreplay.

He could spend hours pleasuring her with toys. Then, when they’d exhausted all of those, he’d use himself. His lips twitched slightly as he imagined her screams. God, if she was half as good as he suspected she was, he’d be in heaven. Sinclair was passionate, fiery, and had a way about her movements that just shouted sex.

Rubbing his hand across his lips, he decided to shove those thoughts aside for now, otherwise they’d never make it to the damn restaurant.

* * * *

What the hell was I thinking?

She tugged at the short skirt of her sundress and regretted her decision not to wear panties. At the time, she’d thought it might be fun, knowing she wasn’t wearing them and thinking what it would be like for him to slide his hand up her thigh and under the skirt. They flirted all the time. The things they’d said to one another at the cabin hadn’t been anything different than they’d said to each other before.

This time, though, they were staying in the same room, just feet away from each other. This time, there was no hiding or running back to her room to lock the door.

It would be so inappropriate to sleep with him. She knew it. He
should
know it. He was her transportation. If things went bad, the next trip would just be too weird. She liked this job too much to jeopardize it, even for a weekend romp with one of the sexiest men she’d ever met.

She glanced over at him as they followed the waiter to their table out on the terrace. He’d changed into Dockers and a short-sleeve shirt. The warm Caribbean breeze ruffled his hair and she clenched her fingers to keep from smoothing it back into place.

She should be realistic. He probably went for more skinny women with perfect figures, not flawed ones like hers. She wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t model thin either. She had curves, she had boobs and she had hips.

As the two of them took a seat, Sinclair tried to remember what type of women he liked. He usually stayed with her, making sure she was never alone. In the past, she’d appreciated it. Here, she had a feeling the constant attached-at-the-hip mentality would get them in bed together before they realized what hit them.

She glanced around at their surroundings to try and take her mind off Marcus and bedrooms. Their table was nestled in a dimly lit, secluded corner. A candle flickered within a crystal holder and tropical plants surrounded them on three sides, giving them more privacy than she would’ve expected. Through the leaves, she could see and hear the ocean as the waves crashed against the sand. The whole thing was incredibly romantic, and she began to feel just a smidge uncomfortable and uncertain.

Thank God everyone in the restaurant appeared to be on their best behavior and dressed. She wasn’t sure she could handle another display of public sex without jumping Marcus’s bones. Just thinking about the couple she’d witnessed earlier made her wet. Her friend Karen would be on her back laughing her ass off if she knew what kind of resort she’d ended up in.

Is this what her hermit boss was into? Or did he just see it as a good investment? It would’ve been nice to have a head’s up about what went on here. She wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but she would’ve liked to be better prepared. A vibrator wasn’t going to cut it here.

Not by a long shot.

Chapter Four

Marcus tried hard to keep his mind off sex, but he was failing miserably. Through the leaves of the plants surrounding him, he could see couples off in the distance. They were gathered around the pool, soft torch light cast their bodies in a golden glow as they mingled. Some moved sexually against others. Some stood on the edges, watching anxiously for the orgy to begin, which is usually how those pool parties ended. The faint sound of drum beats echoed the sound of his own pounding heart as he stared at Sinclair across the table.

He’d never wanted anyone so fucking badly in his life.

The short, red and white sundress brought out her complexion and showcased legs that were long and tan. Her breasts pressed against the material and he imagined they would fill his hands perfectly. Her nipples would be hard against his palms. She tilted her head to the side and he blinked, forcing his gaze to her face. Had she asked something?

“You’re awfully distracted,” she said.

If she’d noticed where he’d been staring, she didn’t let on, and he breathed a slight sigh of relief. He wanted to hurry and finish their dinner. The sight of an orgy might be just the thing to get her in the mood. God was going to strike him down for this, but he had a feeling he could use all the help he could get. Sinclair took her job seriously and that meant no sex play with coworkers.

“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling slightly as he reached for his beer. “I was listening to the music in the distance.”

She frowned. “Music?” She listened for second then grinned. “Very tribal.”

Yeah, tribal.
“I think it’s coming from the pool area.”

“They’ve probably got some strip show or orgy going on over there,” she replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

Marcus almost choked on his shrimp. “Orgy might be fun,” he said just before taking another sip of beer.

He didn’t miss the heat of a blush move over her cheeks as she lifted her glass of wine and took a sip. He was glad she hadn’t chosen anything stronger than that. He wanted her relaxed, but not drunk.

They finished dinner in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Marcus wondered what was going through her mind as she stared out toward the ocean in the distance. Once finished, he led her from the restaurant and out into the warm night air.

They walked silently toward the pool area and he was surprised she didn’t offer any resistance. Had she forgotten about the orgy comment? Instead, she sashayed, her body swaying seductively to the thumping drum beat. She smiled dreamily as her hips undulated back and forth, causing her skirt to lift and expose more of her legs. He could imagine the curve of her ass as her dress just barely missed letting him catch a glimpse.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted her and he was tired of waiting. He reached out and grasped a handful of material at the small of her back, pulling her to a stop. In the distance, mingled with the drumbeat were the moans and sighs of several undulating bodies. He tugged on her dress and she turned to look at him in surprise.

He kept hold of the soft material as he stepped closer to her, invading her space. She looked up at him with wide, desire-filled eyes. The sounds of sex had gotten to her like they had to him. His cock was so hard he was sure he could use it to hammer a nail. She had to know how much he wanted her.

He skimmed his hand under the hem of her skirt and slowly feathered his fingers over the side of her leg. The muscles twitched beneath his touch and he flattened his palm against her. He watched her closely, waiting to see if she would push him away. She didn’t move, instead, just stared at him. The desire he felt for her was mirrored in her own eyes and his heart raced wildly.

He kept his gaze locked onto hers as he slid his palm around to her hip. He pulled, roughly forcing her body up against his.

She gasped and reached up to dig her fingers into his shirt but she didn’t push him away. Her eyes darkened as he dropped his face close to hers. He could feel her shallow pants against his lips, see the beat of her heart in her neck. He moved his other hand to her waist as well, holding her against his cock as he slowly moved his hips back and forth, pressing his hard shaft into the softness of her belly.

“I’m tired of waiting,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Waiting for what?” she whispered, her voice soft, her breath warm and spicy from the wine.

“Waiting on you to admit you want me as much as I want you.”

“Oh,” she mouthed just barely above a whisper.

His mouth descended on hers and he couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure as her lips parted beneath his. His tongue licked along the seam, teasing them both before delving inside to taste. She was sweet and spicy, hot and sexy. Just like he knew she would be, and when her tongue touched his, her kiss met his in a passion that rivaled his own, he wanted to rip her clothes off where they stood.

He could. Here at this resort he could, and his fingers tightened on her waist with the knowledge he wouldn’t need to take her back to the room. He could do everything to her he wanted right here.

Her hands lifted to his chest and her fingers flexed against his muscles, making his heart pound wildly. She tasted so sweet, just like he knew she would. Her body felt incredible as it fitted against his perfectly. Her tongue twirled around his, mating with him in a way that made his knees weak.

Without warning, she tensed and tried to break free of his kiss.

“Marcus,” she panted. “What the hell are we doing?”

He loosened his hold and let her step away, but he stayed close. He would allow her a second to breathe but no way was he giving up. Not now, not after that kiss.

“Sinclair,” he said hoarsely.

*

Sinclair gaped at him, trying her best to get her breathing under control. Though quick, that kiss had been incredible, and all she could think about was rushing back into his arms, but she needed to breathe and think. They worked together. This would not be the smart thing to do no matter how much she wanted it.

As she stared into his lust-filled blue eyes, she wondered why she even fought it. She would love nothing more than for him to take her. Why not?

What if it didn’t work out? That’s why not.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered.

Marcus shook his head. “I disagree.”

She licked her lips and glanced around for an escape route. If she wanted to leave, she would have to push past him. If the desire in his eyes was any indication, he wouldn’t make it easy for her, and that thought did nothing to calm her libido.

The sound of couples having sex just on the other side of those bushes made saying “no” all the harder. It was like being bombarded with sexual and pornographic images and her body reacted with a vengeance. It had been so long, just thinking about what those couples were doing combined with the look in Marcus’s eyes made her want to jump onto the table, spread her legs and say “take me”.

She drew in a slow, shaky breath. “Marcus,” she pleaded.

“Is that a plea for me to leave or for me to continue?”

“I’m not sure.”

“We’re adults, Sinclair. We’re not children. We can handle working together and having sex.”

Sinclair swallowed. “I’m not so sure I can.”

Marcus took a step toward her and she jumped back. Her hips hit the table, making the legs scrape loudly across the stone floor. She reached down, grasping the edges with her fingers and holding tight to keep from pulling him to her. She wanted him so much her pussy actually hurt. It throbbed with the need to feel him inside her, filling her. She glanced at the bulge behind his zipper—the very large, thick bulge. She imagined him stretching her as he thrust deep and her whole body shivered in need.

“Have feelings for me?” he asked.

The seductive, teasing tone to his voice made her move her gaze back to his face. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually say anything. Did she have feelings for him?