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  I sucked on her lips and nibbled on the bottom, giving her a sharp bite. She bucked underneath me. "Oh yeah, you like that," I murmured, pulling at her nipples and twisting a bit. "What else do you like, baby? I want to find all of it, every secret your body tries to hide."

  Her lips were slick and swollen, like a bee sting. I worked my way down her neck, nibbling and licking, until I finally reached her covered breasts. One quick tug and the top fell down, exposing her fully. Crap, she was amazing. Small, perfectly formed, with tight red nipples I wanted to suck for hours. She reached up and hung on to my hair, tugging slightly, as I lashed at her nipples with my tongue.

  "James! Oh God, that feels so good!"

  "You taste so sweet," I groaned. I massaged her hips and belly as I worked her breasts until she writhed back and forth in a frenzy. "Are you wet for me?"

  She shuddered and I decided to find out for myself. My fingers closed around the cute little bows and I pulled one of the strings until one side loosened. Drawing small circles around her hipbone, I teased her, loving the way she whimpered and tried to get closer. She smelled like coconut lotion and musky arousal, my favorite combination. I moved to the other side and tugged.

  Then removed her bottoms.

  I sucked in my breath. Holy shit, I wasn't gonna last much longer. Her pussy gleamed with wetness, and she'd waxed for the beach so only a fine strip of dark hair was left. The perfect landing strip for my mouth and fingers. She flushed and tried to get up, probably caught between arousal and embarrassment.

  "You're so fucking beautiful, Quinn. Do you know that? Do know how bad I want you?" I grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers over my dick. Already, the tip was leaking with my arousal. "You make me crazy. I want to make you feel good, make you come so hard against me, make you scream. Let me, baby. Let me in. Part your legs."

  She hissed out a breath, but she was too far gone, so she obeyed. Her lips were plump and moist, and I ran a finger around her labia, watching her clench and lift her hips for more. I leaned over and blew my breath over the tight, damp curls, spread my palms flat against her inner thighs, and dove into heaven.

  She cried out as I kissed her, licked her clit around and around, harnessing all her sexual arousal until she was completely under my control and begging me. My name echoed in the air, the sweetest fucking sound I ever heard, and I closed my lips around her clit and sucked hard.

  She came in my mouth, bucking like crazy, and I helped her ride it out. Fierce satisfaction coursed through me, but I couldn't wait any longer. I fumbled madly for the drawer beside the bed, and managed to grab a condom with my shaking fingers. Her scent dripped over me like nectar, and she was still shuddering with tiny convulsions. I ripped open the wrapper, rolled on the condom, and poised by her entrance.

  Her gorgeous dark eyes were blurry from her climax. Her lids drifted half closed. "Look at me, Quinn," I demanded. I wanted to see every part of her, and she obeyed, gasping as I pushed a few inches into her clingy heat. "Mine." Possession beat through me in waves. Rational thought had long fled, and I was down to a primitive state, where I needed to claim her and have her belong only to me. Her gaze locked on mine.

  I surged forward.

  Hot and wet, her pussy clenched around me and sucked me deep. I fought for control as I pushed all the way, holding her legs wide open, and my body shook with tremors of pleasure. She moaned and grabbed at my shoulders, the sting of her nails biting deep into my skin and urging me on. My hips pulled back and I slid out of her completely, then thrust in hard. Harder.

  She threw back her head and screamed as I pounded into her body over and over, brutal and raw, needing to mark her as mine, mine, mine. I felt her milk my dick as she came again, and I let myself go with a long yell, spilling my seed into the condom and bucking my hips, drawing out as much of the pleasure as I could. She whimpered, shaking in my embrace, and I slumped over her, panting for breath, my skin damp with sweat, my cock still inside her.

  I had no idea how long we stayed like that. I finally realized I might be crushing her, so I rolled to the side and she dropped her head onto my chest. If someone forced me to stand up, my legs would never hold. Every muscle in my body was loose and used. Fuck. I'd never experienced such a powerful orgasm in my life.

  I was in deep shit. This woman was addicting.

  "That was intense," Quinn finally said.

  I laughed and cuddled her tight. "Baby, you blew my mind. Forget the rest of the week. I'm keeping you right here."

  She smiled and looked up. "Sounds like a plan." My heart melted at the sight of her face. Such a mix of seriousness and play; intellect and character. She was amazing, and she was mine for the next few days. I couldn't think of anything past the moment. Didn't want to.

  "James?"

  "Yeah, baby?"

  "That was the best game ever."

  I grinned.

  I LAID in the bed naked, sheets twisted half around my legs. James pinned me to the mattress with one heavy thigh slung over my hips, dozing after our last bout of amazing, mind-numbing, pleasure-ridden sex.

  My lips turned in a dazed smile and the mantra sang over and over in my head.

  I had an orgasm. I had an orgasm. Quinn Harmon had an orgasm. Yay, yay, yay.

  No wonder everyone was obsessed! Sex without orgasms was okay. The cuddling was the best part. But with an orgasm? The whole encounter rocked. My body was sluggish and melty, like gooey caramel oozing all over the place. There was only one downside: They were kind of like potato chips. Now that I had one--oh, actually three--I wanted more. I'd never go back to sex without orgasms. Which meant James may have ruined me for life. In a good way.

  The other weird thing was my usual shyness completely dissipated. Maybe it was the way he looked at me. As if he found me gorgeous and refused to let me hide. I wasn't a huge fan of my small breasts and boyish-type figure, but he made me feel like a goddess. I would've never been bold enough to play a little hide-and-go sex game before. Maybe this whole spring break thing allowed me to leave my regular self behind and be someone I always wanted to be. Someone more like Mackenzie--bold and sexy and able to go after what she wanted.

  "What are you thinking about?"

  His growly voice drifted to my ears and my body gave an involuntary shudder. Oh yeah, he had me whipped good. I was like a trained puppy now, ready to do anything to get my next orgasm. He'd created a monster. His hands reached out and stroked my naked hip, tracing my pubic bone, and finally resting warm on my stomach.

  "Sex. With you," I admitted.

  "My favorite subject." His hand trailed lower, pointing toward the magic spot, but he stilled his motions. I tried not to wriggle. "I refuse to become the ultimate cliche and ask how it was for you." His fingers played me like a musical instrument, gliding over my skin in teasing strokes but never dipping low enough. "I'd rather watch your reaction to know I'm pleasing you."

  I blushed. Guess some of my natural reserve couldn't be banished. His gaze stripped me bare, probed me deep, and left me nowhere to hide. I grew wet and my nipples pebbled for his attention. It was like I wasn't in control of my own body anymore--it all belonged to him. And it's exactly the way I liked it.

  "Look at you," he whispered. "All pink and wet. I'd be happy to keep you stripped and tied to my bed for the rest of the week." He propped himself up on his side and caressed my breast, rubbing his thumb over my tight nipple over and over again, making it swell and push out for more. He was so dirty and sexy and raw. He rolled over and began to lick me all over, wet swipes of his tongue mingling with tiny nibbles that made me squirm. "Now part your legs for me, Quinn. No, open your eyes."

  My lids flew open at his command. Somehow, if I was able to hide from my own response, it would've been safer, but he didn't let me. He wanted it all, and I ached to give it to him. I spread my thighs wide, helpless and ready to beg for what I wanted, no longer caring who I was before I met him. "So pretty," he murmured. He swiped a finger down my slit and I sucked in m
y breath. His blue eyes darkened to navy, sucking me as deep as my pussy pulled in his finger, begging for more. "I'm going to make you come again. Don't close your eyes. This is all for me, Quinn, do you hear me?"

  "Yes," I moaned. "Please."

  He dipped a finger in, stretched me, then added another. His thumb brushed my clit with light teasing touches that never gave me the pressure I needed. I arched up for more, but he was in complete control, watching my naked body and my face with raw satisfaction. His fingers curled and he pumped in and out with slow strokes. The pleasure built and swam in waves around me, and then--

  "Oh God!" He hit a spot that shimmered raw streams of bliss through my body. I panted hard, wanting more, wanting less, wanting...

  "That's the spot. Give me more, baby. Show me how good this feels."

  He began a rhythmic thrust back and forth in that magic place, and my muscles tightened with anticipation, building higher and higher until I felt as I would scream or shatter. I flailed my head back and forth on the pillow and closed my eyes to fight off the pressure.

  "Open your eyes. Don't hide from me."

  I moaned as I obeyed, and his fingers moved faster, his thumb rubbing, and then the orgasm hit me, shimmering from the tight coil in my belly and flooding every pore with a light and energy that made me scream at the top of my lungs. I heard him cursing in the background, fumbling with a drawer, but my senses were swamped with too much stimuli, and then I felt his sheathed hard length slide into me.

  "So good," I cried brokenly. "So good."

  "You were made for me. Jesus, your body is so tight and hot. I can't get enough of you." He worked his hips and drove me right back up, his fingers clenching my ass and holding me still for every stroke, and I gave myself up to him, letting him do what he wanted and take me anywhere. The pressure rebuilt and I shattered into a second orgasm--my ass bruised, my thighs shaking, and throat raw from my screams. He came hard and threw his head back, shouting my name and collapsed on top of my body.

  I had no idea how much time passed before I was able to move. Like coming out of a Rip Van Winkle sleep, the room seemed foggy and my body was limp from use. The scent of sex and a delicious musky cologne filled the air. I wondered if I'd ever walk properly again, or if I was permanently bow-legged.

  "Wanna take a shower?" he asked, stroking back my tangled hair. My ponytail had come free at some point.

  "Yes, please." I wrinkled my nose. "I'm a mess."

  "You're a gorgeous mess," he corrected, dropping a kiss on my nose. "I have robes in the closet. Get comfortable and meet me on the deck. I'm gonna clean up a bit and get ready to sail back."

  "What time is it?"

  He grinned. "Almost sunset."

  I gasped. "We spent the whole day in bed?" I'd heard of couples doing that before but always figured it was an exaggeration. After all, how many hours can you actually have sex? Now I knew.

  "Yep. I'll take you on a sunset sail. We have some leftover sandwiches and champagne. Meet me upstairs when you're ready."

  I watched him climb out of bed. HIs body was a work of supple, defined muscles, a tight ass, and meaty biceps. Dusky tanned skin covered with dark hair. Even his feet seemed strong and sensual. He donned a T-shirt, pair of shorts, and with a wink, climbed the stairs. I slumped back onto the pillows.

  Best. Spring. Break. Ever.

  I took my time getting cleaned up and back in my suit. The terry cloth robe felt snug and comfy. I made my way to the upper deck, and found a small table set up with the remains of our lunch and more champagne. The sails whipped in the wind, and the landscape seemed distant and far, far away. The sun was a giant ball of fire, suspended halfway in the sky, and I gasped at the outrageous beauty. The moment was idyllic, almost from a dream. James seemed to experience similar emotions, because he moved over and wrapped me in his arms. Nothing mattered anymore. It was just us--free and alone on the water, and our boat chasing the sun.

  "Is it always like this?" I murmured against his chest. My cheek rubbed against soft worn cotton, and I leaned into his strength.

  He paused. I waited for him to ask what my question meant. I wasn't sure myself. But his voice whispered on the wind and drifted to my ears. "No. It's usually never like this."

  We didn't speak for a while. I realized something strong surged between us, beyond the sex, but it was too massive and complicated to analyze now. I worried about so much in my life, I didn't want to turn my perfect encounter with James into something to pick apart and rationalize.

  We broke apart and sat down. I was starving, and ripped into the rest of the roast beef and salad without taking a breath. He laughed at me and refilled my champagne glass. "How long do you usually stay in Key West?" I asked curiously.

  He shrugged. "Usually after break is over, I move on. Sometimes I stay a week or two longer, depending on my plans."

  I hated the doubts that suddenly sprang to mind. He probably seduced a girl each year, kept her for the week, then moved on. And wasn't my goal the same thing? So stupid. I had gotten attached after one lousy day in his bed. I'd make a terrible casual lover. I stiffened my resolve to make sure I didn't make it more than it was, or pressure him in any way. Even after his words that this seemed to mean a bit more than an easy roll in the hay. "Sounds perfect," I said lightly, finishing up my food.

  "It is sometimes," he said. He watched me from across the table with a brooding gaze. "But sometimes it's just...empty."

  My gaze cut to his. Heat blazed and blistered. It didn't matter that we'd been at each other all day. My body flamed back to life, hungry for more. He muttered a curse but kept still in his seat. "Empty how?" I questioned.

  He stiffened. Anger seemed to beat from his figure, confusing me. "I do what I want, when I want. I make my own schedule, travel anywhere in the world, and have enough money and security not to worry. But there's no one on the other end. If I dropped off the face of the earth, no one would give a shit."

  I sucked in my breath. The sudden vulnerability in his features fisted my heart and squeezed. How could that be possible? James Hunt had everything. Didn't he? "Your parents? Friends? Siblings, cousins?"

  His profile remained carved in stone. "I'm an only child. I was pretty much raised by my housekeeper, private tutors, and learned everything needed to be the perfect society boy. It wasn't until later that I began to question my role."

  "What role?"

  "I was a prop. My parents only wanted one child so they could raise it to be what they needed. They'd sweep in to parade me in front of their friends, or at a party, or to show off. Most of the time they barely spoke with me, unless it was with demands on who I could see, how I should behave, all that crap." His voice became distant and cold. "When I figured out fucking up would at least bring their wrath, that was good enough for me. At least I got some reaction at first. Dad focused on getting me some reputable career or drafting me into the banking empire, but he doesn't get it. I'd die. I tried talking to him about it, but he didn't give a shit. Neither did Mom. So they gave up on me, released my trust fund money, and threatened to disown me if I humiliated them."

  "I'm sure they didn't mean it. Parents threaten things all the time."

  Shadows flickered over his face. "No. They meant it. They check up on me, of course. Skype, text, an occasional call. But not to really talk or find out what I'm up to. They want to be sure I haven't done anything to wreck the family name. My last visit was a clusterfuck. I got an hour at breakfast, and they both cited shit excuses to avoid me the rest of the weekend. I have no other family--they were both only children--and my friends? As I told you, they like what I can give them but if I had no money, they wouldn't stick."

  "Maybe you never give them a chance?" I suggested gently. "I'm sure they'd care about you whether or not you had buckets of money."

  He laughed, but it was bitter and without humor. "You still don't get it, do you, Quinn? I'm a complete mirage. Underneath, there's nothing there. I go from one event to another, one plac
e to the next. My friends just happen to be the ones I take with me for the ride, and when I drop them off, they happily leave. I'm a fucking ghost. Maybe it's good. No one gets hurt. No complications. Easy in, easy out."

  "Why are you telling me this?" My voice trembled. There was something greater growing between us; a seed that sprouted and would soon become Jack's beanstalk with just a bit of care and tenderness. But how could such a connection happen in a day? Was that even possible? Or was I living in my own mirage, with no responsibilities and reality to intrude in perfection?

  His eyes blazed. "So you know. You need to know who I am, what type of person you're with. I'm not like you. I never will be like you. Do you understand?"

  My hand shook around the glass. "You don't know anything about me," I whispered. "Don't try to tell me what I can and can't handle."

  He rose from the chair and clenched his fists. I swallowed as a rush of sexual energy punched the air. "You take care of people. Forgive them. You're strong and real, and I don't want you to forget it. But at the end of this week, you're gonna get on that plane and walk away. Without me."

  My cheeks flamed. How dare he? "Don't flatter yourself," I said coldly. "I'm not a naive little virgin who's going to beg to stay with you. I have a life back in Chicago, and just because we have great sex doesn't mean I'll drop everything to be your groupie. You're a conceited asshole if you think it does."

  He shut his eyes tight and seemed to struggle with something deeper. I waited, ready to walk away, ready to fight. His low voice stole my breath and my need to retreat. "That warning isn't for you, little girl." His eyes flew open and blazed hot and fierce. "It's for me."

  Raw sexual energy swarmed between us. I knew he was admitting something he didn't want to, and had no idea how to process. He was messing with my head, big time, and I was getting sick of it. "What the hell does that mean anyway?" I hissed.

  Emotion tightened my throat at the look of his face. Pain. Frustration.

  Vulnerability.

  "Damn you," he whispered. "Why'd you have to come here and fuck everything up?"

  "Fuck you." I spun on my heel with the intention of getting the hell away from him, but his fingers grasped my arm and yanked me back. He lifted me up. His gaze raked over my face, studying me so intently I felt stripped and naked.