I'd read about men possessing women with their lips, but never experienced it personally. Until then. He was an expert kisser. I opened my mouth to him and let his tongue in to dance with mine as I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes. I was ready to be whatever he wanted.
He pressed his hips against mine. I felt him hard and ready through the thin cotton of my dress. His hands slid beneath my dress to cup my butt, hot on my bare skin, branding me with his touch. One strap of my sundress slid off my shoulder.
I tipped my head back and let him kiss my neck. "I hope this doesn't mean you really think we're going to die?"
"I'm not ready to take any chances with my bucket list." His voice had gone deep and hoarse with desire.
"You're just horny. And maybe drunk, too." I sighed with pleasure. "But it's a good line."
"As long as it's effective." His lips travelled down my throat, past my racing pulse, to the hollow of my neck. "Horny, yes. Drunk, no." He slid the other strap off my shoulder.
I pulled his shirt up by the hem. "Take it off."
He grinned and pulled it off over his head, revealing ripped abs and strong, sexy arms. I leaned forward and licked his nipple, playful and teasing.
He slid my dress down and cupped my breasts. Hot weather clothes make undressing so much easier.
This seemed surreal. I wasn't the kind of girl who just slept with men she barely knew. And I'd never believed that danger could be an aphrodisiac. But I was turned on and I didn't care how.
I was tired. And tired of being scared. Tired of thinking. I just wanted to be. And not think. For the storm to blow over and the sex to be hot.
I stepped out of my dress and reached for the zipper of his shorts. As I slid his shorts down, there was that moment when I wondered if he was the kind of guy who wore sexy underwear. Or nothing at all. I couldn't imagine him in boring tighty whities.
Sexy underwear. Tight enough to show him straining to get out. Fun with a funky print. I recognized them from the Hott's line, Hott for the bedroom. I pushed aside the thought that I shouldn't be doing this. And he was the douche who was withholding the deal of my career. Right now, I just wanted him to be bar guy.
I slid his shorts off his hips. "There. Now we're even."
He hooked a finger through the waistband of my boy shorts and pulled them down. I kicked them off.
"Now we're not." His grin was delicious.
I pulled his briefs down and took him in hand, stroking him, hard. "Now we are."
He kicked his underwear away. I wrapped my arms around him again as he cupped my butt and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around him and nibbled his neck, grazing it hard with my teeth. Was I angry with him?
All I knew was that I wanted to mark him. Suck him hard. Turn him on. Show him what he was missing.
He carried me to the bed and put me down on my back with enough force to rock the bed. I half expected him just to slide into me. I was that ready for him.
He kissed my neck, my breasts, as I stroked his hair and held his mouth to me.
I arched up to meet him. "Stop teasing and get to it."
He laughed. "Bossy woman." He pulled a condom from the nightstand.
"Not bossy. I just know what I want." I took the condom from him and put it on him, stroking him hard until he was straining not to come. I placed him at my opening.
He slid into me with enough force to make me gasp. There wasn't much seduction involved. But there didn't need to be.
I held him tightly around the waist with my legs, gasping with each thrust as the pleasure built. Maybe it was true that danger built desire. And adrenaline heightened the senses. Whatever it was, it took only a few thrusts before the waves of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out, riding the crest of a climax more powerful than anything I'd had before.
He followed me, thrusting again, shuddering with pleasure, finally collapsing against me, hot and pleasantly sweaty with the exertion of great sex.
He lay over me, with his head buried in my neck, breathing hard from the thrill. I gently ran my fingers through his hair until his breathing calmed and he rolled off me onto his back.
I opened my eyes, staring out at the dark water. "It's gone."
"What?" He got up on one elbow.
"The manatee." I sat up and brushed my messy hair out of my eyes. "The water's calm, too." I slid out of bed and went to the window, pressing my hands against the glass where the manatee had been. I shivered in the cool air. "It's completely calm."
I heard him rummaging in the closet. He came up behind me and slid a robe over my bare shoulders.
I turned over my shoulder to smile at him, ready to hug him. "The storm's over!"
His face was still and serious. He'd grabbed his phone from the pocket of his shorts. He'd been studying it. "It's the eye of the cyclone. The storm is gaining strength. The worst is yet to come."
Three
I stared at him. "Definitely a hurricane, then? Not just a storm?"