Caribbean Crush (Under the Caribbean Sun) Page 5

  “Hell, yes. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. It’s debilitating.” His pulse kicked up, his heart warning him not to give too much away.

  “You seem fine to me.” She clenched her ass, nestling him deeper. The minx would be the end of him for sure.

  “Didn’t you miss me at all, liefje?’ He whispered the words against her ear, pressing his lips against the lobe and nibbling his way down to the curve of her neck. “I know you did.”

  Lust fogged his brain, though he knew better. He should settle a few things between them first, but testosterone turned him into an animal. The masculine need for her heated his blood, desire pulsing with each pound of his heart, until he couldn’t draw it out anymore. He didn’t need her words, her admissions. He needed possession of her body, locked with his in a way neither of them could deny.

  He leaned away only long enough to grab a condom and roll it into place. When he returned to her she’d turned onto her stomach, the pillows now scattered on the floor giving them a flat surface on which to play.

  Memories of taking her this way swam through his mind, how tight she’d felt as he dove into her, the surge of power as he pressed her clear down to the mattress. His cock throbbed with want and he gave thanks for the earlier orgasm she’d provided and the tight squeeze of the condom. Without it he might have let go at just the sight of the rounded curve of her ass.

  He brushed the back of his hand through her hair, exposing her neck and shoulders as he pushed the long strands aside. He climbed astride her thighs, tracing his fingertips along the geography of her strong back. So long ago he’d memorized the terrain, the places where he could touch like a feather and have her breath catch, the valleys he could press to make her groan.

  Dipping his head, he placed an open-mouth kiss on the nape of her neck, smiling at the way she gripped the sheets.

  “There. Yes. Right there.” Just a breath, no voice as he moved down, using his tongue to tease each bump of her backbone. She arched her back as he followed the curve of her spine, her breathing a staccato of need.

  Did he want to draw it out or give her the intensity of a lightning-fast climax? The roadmap he’d spent years perfecting could lead him either way. From the way she responded, he knew the path hadn’t changed.

  He gripped her hips and lifted her until her knees began to slip against the white sheets. He maneuvered her so that her knees were outside his, opening her to him. The sheen of arousal glistened on her delicate folds like dew on a ripe berry. His mouth watered, the taste of her still on his tongue and yet he hadn’t had his fill. He probably never would.

  The firm cheeks of her bottom molded to his hands like they were made for his grasp. Anticipation coiled, the tension sending him higher than any drug.

  “Should I tease you, liefje?” With his thumbs, he opened the lips of her sex, watching her feminine muscles clench in want. His cock twitched to feel that firm grip on his shaft.

  “Fuck me.” The moan escaped her as she rolled her hips, turning her head slightly so their gazes locked. “Show me. Show me you missed me.”

  Taking himself in hand, he drew his cock along the intimate folds of her flesh, signing his name there the way he used to. She hummed, making him wonder if she knew exactly what she inspired in him. He released himself and wrapped one hand around her hip, holding her at the perfect angle. With the other hand, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, tugging her head up as he drove into her with a single thrust.

  Her hips slipped forward and he followed her down, pressing deeper as she writhed beneath him. The hot slickness of her body clenched his shaft, intensifying every glorious sensation. He held her head and hip for purchase and he pumped in and out, hard and deep, grinding his hips at the bottom of each ruthless push.

  He wanted more than to simply be inside her. He wanted to be part of her. For the friction to fire until they soldered together, their bodies welded so tight they could never to be separated. Forever locked in this heavenly pleasure.

  She lifted her hips and gripped the blankets, deepening the angle. Releasing her hair, he gripped her ass with both hands, pressing his fingers into the muscles and riding her with all he had. Her moans gave way to guttural sounds of pure pleasure, as if she were speaking in tongues.

  He couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. Deep enough. With the force of each thrust, she scooted forward, angling off the bed until her arms slipped over the side.

  “Come back to me.” He gasped for breath, his chest heaving as if fucking her were a marathon he was about to win.

  Fisting his hand in her hair, he tugged her up until her back arched and she screamed, her body shuddering beneath him, her tight channel squeezing him like a fist. He plunged deep, his release blasting through his body from his cock to his toes and then rushing to his head until the room began to spin.

  Kristin slipped on the peach tank and cursed herself for not packing a bra. But then she hadn’t packed for two nights of debauched marathon sex with an old flame. No, she hadn’t counted on that at all. She’d tossed a spare outfit into her saddlebag as an afterthought, just in case she wound up on the wrong side of tipsy at the reception and needed to spend the night at the hotel.

  If she stayed any longer, she’d be lucky if Janny didn’t show up and drag her away by her hair, ready to detox her from the latest dose of Prinsen poisoning. And she’d been horribly afflicted. She’d indulged in every raunchy urge, quieting every second thought with more sex.

  She pulled on her cut-offs, all too aware she didn’t have a pair of panties. Somehow, she had to make it out of the hotel room this time. Because if she slept with him again she’d wind up missing work tomorrow morning. She needed a few hours alone in her own bed, and a shower longer and hotter than the one she’d dared take here. Because in twelve hours she had to be Miss Taylor, respectable kindergarten teacher and trusted member of the community, not the harlot eager to do whatever drifted through Antonnis’s dirty mind.

  The jangling of the bathroom doorknob nearly had her jumping out of her skin. Didn’t the man need sleep? Thank goodness she’d remembered to lock it this time.

  “Liefje? Did you start without me?” His warm voice had her flushing in all the wrong places, especially sans panties.

  “Almost done.” She finger-combed her long hair, which had already started to curl. She’d hoped to get out before he woke and made a seductive case for staying another night. Which she could not do. Could not. Her stomach twisted and cramped, fighting against what she knew she had to do.

  Being a responsible adult sucked. This had been much easier when she was a daring kid, not a woman with something to lose.

  She pulled in a deep breath of the shower-steamed air, wishing they hadn’t used the bath gel yesterday to get creative because now the clean scent brought to mind lather sluicing down chiseled abs to a rock-hard cock ripe for the fucking. Damn it.

  “Babe? Are you okay?” He rattled the door again.

  She gasped, not realizing she’d spoken out loud. She turned the knob which released the lock. His hand must have still been there too, because the door pushed wide until they stood face-to-face and much too close together.

  His unpretentious grin shouldn’t leave her entranced. Yet his casual confidence and the sparkle in his pale-blue eyes squeezed her heart, reminding her that the moment she’d stepped into this room with him she’d fallen back into their old pattern as if the last five years didn’t exist. As if she hadn’t been shredded when he’d sailed away the last time.

  She cleared her throat and tried to move past him, but he stood his ground like he knew she planned to flee. He reached for her, sliding his palm against her cheek and lifting her face so she had to look at him.

  “Talk to me.” His clipped accent made the phrase seem like a command.

  “I need to get home. I have to prep my lessons for tomorrow. And I’m sure you have to pack. This was nice though.” She caught his wince and wondered if
he had any idea just how long they’d hidden away. They were out of condoms, so he should have done the math.

  “I don’t have to be in St. Martin until five tomorrow.”

  “And I’ll be working all day. So this is where we say goodbye.” Her throat constricted around the words, but she forced them out along with a smile.

  “No.” He leaned in, but she turned away and managed to slide around him and into the hotel room.

  Strange how she’d been here for two days and hadn’t really taken in the airy décor of the room. But then every time they left the bed it was only to find a more interesting location. There were so many possibilities in just a bedroom and a balcony. The walls, the floor, the chair, the dresser that had been just the right height. She’d die if anyone had happened to look up as she’d leaned against the balcony railing while he took her from behind. It had been dark, and she’d been quiet. And stupid. Stupid to think this would work.

  She reached into the wedding-favor tote bag with a map of Anguilla printed on the front. The bags had been in the room when they’d arrived, not that she’d noticed then. They were stocked with island necessities—snacks, lip balm, champagne, even condoms. But they were latex and Antonnis was allergic. Good thing, because the lack of protection would keep her focused.

  “Kristin, what are you doing?”

  She found the pair of crocheted flip flops at the bottom of the bag and slipped them on. “These are Saskia’s latest idea. Swimwear and footwear. Holly put them in the bags so the guests can be her test market. She’s always thinking, that one.” She moved around the room, collecting everything, not wanting to leave a trace or give herself a reason to look back. She’d stepped into this knowing it would end. Just a dance, a way to get closure and tie a prettier bow on the end of her first love affair.

  “I don’t want to talk about shoes right now.” He sat on the bed, the sheets shifted and bunched atop the well-used mattress. “Let’s have supper and figure out where we go from here.”

  “I go home. You go to Holland.” She slung the tote bag over her shoulder and then lifted her saddle bag. The hotel had stowed her bike in the luggage room, so she should call down, but she’d rather wait in the lobby than spend another moment with her shifting priorities.

  “Stay with me.” He leaned his forearms on his bare thighs, gloriously confident in his nakedness. As he should be—the man embodied the masculine ideal from his hard jaw to his defined abs.

  She spun to face him and faked a smile. “You wanted a chance for a better goodbye. This is it. It’s better than the last time. I don’t have any delusions that you’re coming back.”

  “But I will be back. Both my brothers are here.”

  “They’ve been here for three years and you were nowhere to be found. Don’t make promises. You only know how to break them.”

  “Liefje, listen to me.” He rose and stepped to her, eating up the ground she tried to hold firm. She needed to object, but before she made a sound he’d covered her mouth with his, drowning her beneath his kiss. Her bags tumbled to the ground, burying her resolve. He lifted her off her flip-flops without breaking the kiss and backed her into the jute-papered wall.

  She wanted to be swept away in his tidal wave, for there to be some romantic happily ever after. But she’d learned better, had grown up from those fairy-tale notions. She turned her head to break the kiss, but instead of giving up, he slid the kiss down her neck and slipped a hand down the front of her shorts.

  “No.” Her body tensed and she gripped his arm, squeezing her short fingernails into his flesh. “Stop. There are no more condoms. We’re done.”

  “We’re not.”

  She angled her elbow into his gut and jabbed her way free. “I said no, Antonnis. I’m not going to let you leave me pregnant and alone again. I’m not that girl. I grew up. You should try it.” She refused to feel bad about the way he rubbed his stomach where she’d nailed him. No, she needed to get her things and get the hell out before something happened she’d regret even more than this.

  “Pregnant? What are you talking about?” He staggered into the wall and she wondered if she’d hit him harder than she intended. “Did you have our baby?”

  She shouldered her bags and sighed. “There’s no secret baby, Antonnis. I was pregnant, you were gone, I freaked out, you wouldn’t return my calls, I freaked out some more—”

  “You didn’t.” Cold fear blazed in his ice-blue eyes.

  “Didn’t what? Think I was bleeding to death in the university infirmary when I miscarried? It was horrific and not something I like to remember. I paid for what we did, grieved the loss longer than anyone thought I should.”

  “I didn’t know.” He pressed his lips in a thin line.

  “Not from lack of trying to tell you on my part. I called, emailed, texted. I tried. I needed you and you let me know how much we meant to you. I got the message. You don’t get to rewrite history now.”

  He opened his hands, naked and pleading before her. “I thought it would be easier for you with a clean break. You wanted things I didn’t, and I was tempted to give them to you just so I could keep you. I had to give you room to find what you wanted.”

  She pushed a hand through her still damp curls. “I never wanted to be treated like we never happened. You can pretend you did it for me, but you were scared and you ran. You wanting me the second you saw me proved the break-up wasn’t anything I did.”

  “I wasn’t scared. I know that women date one kind of man for the adventure but expect him to be different once they’re married. I’m not the yes-dear type. I don’t have it in me to hold your purse or push a stroller or fetch your coffee. I’m not that guy, and that is who you wanted, and so I let you be to let you have it.”

  “I never asked you to do those things.”

  His throat undulated as he swallowed and he stared up at the ceiling. “We could get a little cottage in West End. No need for anything too big until there are more than the two of us.”

  Her gut clenched. She had said that. Lying on a blanket on a deserted strip of beach, staring at the sailboats bobbing in the distance. She’d meant it. She’d been so sure that he was her future, her forever.

  She slid back into the flip-flops and cleared her throat. “You know, Antonnis, if you’d told me that then we could have planned a future together instead of you wholeheartedly rejecting my version. Compromise happens.”

  “So does resentment. I didn’t want to be that for you.”

  “Well, you fucked that one up. I resented the hell out of you that fall. Because while I was stressed and panicked and dealing with doctors and loss and trying to keep my grades up when I was so depressed I wanted to curl into a ball and disappear, you were off partying it up in Amsterdam. So, yeah. Mission failed.”

  “I’m sorry.” The quiet words cut her to the quick.

  “Apology accepted.” She hitched the bags higher on her shoulder and made her way for the door. “Have a nice life, Antonnis.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Mannus,” Antonnis called out for his brother as he gripped the forestay line and climbed aboard Johannes’s prized sailboat. “Does Hannes know you had your hands all over Lola? He’s a jealous skipper.”

  “He’s a pain in my ass, that’s for sure. Did you come to steal the old girl, Tonnis? Because he will beat you senseless.” Harm opened a teak cabinet and removed a key on a silver ring with a tangle of string hanging down. “The brat left her keys here for some odd reason. I was dispatched to fetch them for her highness.”

  Antonnis climbed the rigging, needing to work off some nervous energy. Everything about the last few hours since Kristin had left gnawed at him. Especially her mandate that they’d never be together again. “Think we’ll ever get used to the idea that he married Saskia?”

  Harm shrugged his bare shoulders, aviators shading his eyes from the evening sun. “We’re supposed to think of her as a sister, and since we always did nothing really changes. Not for us.”


  “True.” He swung from the line to the mast. “It just happened too fast for me to get used to it.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Harm chuffed, a wide grin splitting his face.

  He leaped down to the teak deck. “Mannus, you are scaring me with that smile. You don’t do happy.”

  “Get used to it. I have lots to look forward to. Can you keep your mouth shut?”

  He made an X across his chest. “Do tell.”

  “Holly and I are having a baby.” The happiness in his brother’s words was palpable. “Not a word to Papa. We’ll tell him after the wedding and let him ignore the math.”

  “Congratulations,” he said automatically. What was with this day and babies? Harm with a baby? How would that even work?

  “Thanks. You’re the first person I’ve told. Besides Holly.”

  He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “You declared Holly pregnant and she was? God complex much?”

  Harm waved him off and sat in the white leather captain’s chair. “I just realized it before she did. Though I do suppose I made it happen.”

  “Your chest puffed out like a rooster when you said that. You might want to have that checked.” He leaned against the railing and crossed his legs at the ankles. What was happening here, one brother married and the other with a baby on the way? How had he missed everything changing so completely? “I didn’t know you wanted kids.”

  “Children aren’t something you want in abstract. I love the idea of sharing a child with Holly. Though if it’s a girl, I’m not fond of the idea of her being built the same way.” He scratched at his stubble. “Holly is softening my big-bad-wolf reputation. If we have a daughter, I’ll have to rough it back up to run off any trash that comes sniffing in her direction.”

  “The deed is done, friend. You may get a dozen girls stacked just like her.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe Hannes will have boys to keep the vermin in check.”

  “Woah, now. They just got married. They might not even—”

  “Oh, they will. We’re not getting any younger, you know. You might want to think about finding a woman yourself, trying on a relationship that lasts longer than a week.”