One Foolish Night (Eternal Bachelors Club #4)

All the while she imagined it was his cock filling and stretching her instead of his fingers.

Seconds turned to minutes as he continued pleasuring her without tiring, without rushing her, because it appeared he truly didn’t want anything for himself but to make her come. At that thought, her heart swelled with affection for him, and behind her closed lids, tears started to collect. She was overwhelmed by the tenderness and passion he shared with her.

The moans and grunts that came from him were proof of Paul’s pleasure in caressing her, and there was nothing more she wanted to do than return the same pleasure, and make his body burn the way hers burned now.

She was near boneless, and had she been standing, she would have fallen long ago. Paul’s mouth coaxed sensations from her body she didn’t know she was capable of, and his fingers inside her made her womb clench with unquenchable need. She wanted to soak up every second of tenderness and passion he was granting her, knowing that soon all this would be over, and she would be alone again.

Unable to hold back any longer, she cried out, “Damn it, Paul! I want your cock inside me. Take me.” She lifted her head just as he did, surprise shining back at her.

“You want my cock?” he asked incredulously. “But you don’t have to . . . ”

“I want to.” Holly took a deep breath, knowing there was no way back from the road she was taking now. “I want you to fuck me the way you did that night. Hard and deep. And I don’t want you to stop until we both can’t get up.”

Paul reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head.

“Paul, is that you?” a female voice called from the direction of the terrace.

Shock and horror reflected on Holly’s face as she frantically reached for the hand towel on the table. She pressed the small piece of cloth against her, but it hid nothing of her nakedness, while she scrambled to pull the towel she was lying on from underneath her.

“Fuck!” Paul cursed under his breath, and jumped up.





18


Paul had a hard-on the size of Florida and didn’t know which way to turn. Worse, Holly lay naked on the lounge chair and was trying frantically to cover herself. He didn’t have a choice but to stand there, blocking the approaching interloper’s view of Holly’s body. Though in a few seconds, the woman he now recognized as Tara Pierpont, the youngest daughter of one of his mother’s bosom friends, would surely be able to see what was tenting his white shorts and figure out what she’d interrupted.

What fucking bad timing! A few more seconds, and he would have been submerged in Holly’s glorious body, making love to her under the afternoon sun. He hadn’t expected it either. He’d only wanted to pleasure her, content with seeing her body explode in ecstasy and that beautiful smile form on her lips again when she was satisfied. He’d only wanted that. It had shocked him to the core to hear her ask him to fuck her. But he wouldn’t have refused her. Hell, no! He’d been ready to take his cock out and thrust into her with such force that they would have catapulted the lounge chair into his mother’s priceless azaleas.

But none of that would happen now.

Paul glanced down at Holly and saw that she’d managed to wrap a towel around her torso, but there wasn’t enough time to put her bikini back on. The top lay on the table, but he couldn’t even see where he’d tossed the bottom.

The other thing he noticed was that Holly was avoiding looking at him again. Everything seemed to be back at square one.

He suppressed another curse when Tara reached him.

“Hi, Paul! I’m sorry I’m getting in so late. I hope you weren’t waiting for me. I meant to call but my cell phone battery ran out.” Then she glanced past him and her face fell. “Oh.” Her gaze fell on the bikini top on the table, before her eyes darted back to him.

“Uh, hi, Tara.”

“You invited somebody?” Holly asked, her voice flat and almost inaudible, disappointment sitting deep within her eyes as she glanced toward Tara.

Before he could set the record straight, Holly jumped up from the lounge chair. “Excuse me. I’d better take a shower.”

As if she wanted to wash him off her. “Holly!” Paul called after her, but she charged into the house without looking back.

“I’m sorry, I rang the doorbell,” Tara said, clearly embarrassed, as the rosy blush on her cheeks attested. “But nobody answered.” She pointed to the side of the house. “So I left my luggage at the front door and walked around.”

“Luggage?” he echoed, shoving a hand through his hair.

She nodded, her face suddenly etched with worry. “Yes, of course. You invited me to stay for a few days.”

“I invited you?”

Tara fidgeted. “You didn’t? But . . . ” She dropped her eyelids.

“Tara, tell me how I sent you this invitation? Did I email you? Leave a voicemail?”