And she did just that. The rest of the time on the island flew by in a passionate blur. They spent the next day and night snorkeling, swimming, sunbathing, laughing, and making love in ways she hadn’t known were possible.
Claire boarded the plane home having discovered many new things.
Will was terribly ticklish.
She was ticklish in certain places she hadn’t known about.
Will’s body made an excellent table/serving dish.
Will’s body made a great lounge chair, throw pillow, and overall playground.
There are biting insects in the sand at night.
Her idea to roll around in the sand was not a good one as evidenced by abrasions and bugbites.
Sunscreen application is a long and tedious process when done solo.
Sunscreen application is excellent fun when executed by Will—even when you end up not making it out into the sun afterward.
Sunburns hurt.
Bugbites hurt.
Leaving the island to return to regular life hurt.
Realizing she was madly and irrevocably in love with William Anderson…hurt.
…
After takeoff, Claire had just started to mourn the end of their trip when she met Will’s heated gaze over the small table between them. She knew that look well by now.
He unsnapped his seat belt and without preamble, stripped down to where he was wearing nothing but an erection that made her mouth water.
Oh, shit. She squirmed in her chair, heat flooding her body, as he stalked over to her. This was serious. She fought back a grin as he unsnapped her seat belt and urged her to her feet. “So, I take it this means I’m about to be a member of the mile-high club.” God, that sounded lame. Was that even a thing, or was it something she picked up in middle school somewhere?
Without answering, he pulled her shirt off, and the bra, too. Then untied her warm-up drawstring, shoving her pants down her legs. “Sit here,” he said, indicating the little table between the comfy leather chairs.
“Will that even hold my weight?” She tentatively put pressure on the table, testing it.
“We’re about to find out.” He sat in the chair and patted the edge of the table. “Right here.”
She sat on the table and he grinned up at her, making her heart hammer even harder than it was before. He positioned her close to the edge, then put her feet on the arm of his chair. He leaned forward, placing his warm palms on her knees and pushing them wider. “Now, Miss Maddox,” he said.
She almost giggled at his boardroom business voice, but bit her lip so he’d keep going.
“This is by no means the end of our collaboration on the Claire Project, but it is, sadly, the closing transaction of our business trip.” He ran his hands tantalizingly down the inside of her thighs, then back to her knees. This time she did giggle. He answered with an arch of his eyebrow, then continued. “Therefore, I would like you to be the boss this time.”
She snorted, which wasn’t very sexy, but she couldn’t help it. His playfulness was amusing, and hot as hell. “I will gladly assume that position.”
And that did it. They both busted out laughing then. With a wave of his hand, he indicated her vulnerable state, legs apart on the table in front of him, feet on the arms of his chair. “I think you already have.”
Still laughing, she put a finger to her lips and pointed at the pilot’s cabin.
He caught his breath. “No, it’s okay. He has on headphones and is under order to let us know before he comes out. Anderson policy. We sometimes conduct business during flights.”
She conjured her most serious face. “I thought that’s what we were doing, Mr. Anderson.”
Then it was his turn to snort—well, it was more like a guffaw. “You’re right. I am awaiting your orders.”
No way. She wasn’t much of a dirty talker and this was out of her comfort zone. He must have seen her reticence, because he reached out and ran his hands down her legs and trailed his fingers up her belly to her breasts, where he stroked her until her nipples hardened and sent bolts of heat straight between her legs. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, leaning forward to swirl his tongue around her nipple.
His tongue was so hot and felt perfect, but it wasn’t enough. “Touch me.”
His mouth hardened into a smile against her breast. “Where?”
Dammit. He was killing her. “Between my legs.”
He leaned back in his chair. “How?”
She made a growly sound of frustration. At least he hadn’t made her get anatomically specific. “With your tongue.”
His sexy grin emboldened her. She looked down at his erection and grinned back. “While touching yourself.”
A surprised look crossed his face followed by that signature eyebrow arch. “Hopefully not with my own tongue.”
She busted out laughing but her amusement turned to desire when he wrapped his hand around himself and began a slow, deliberate pumping action. It was hard for her to sit still. “That is so hot.”
“Really? This turns you on?”
She nodded, mouth dry.