Except Olivia wasn’t the kind of good-time girl he enjoyed briefly before moving on. No matter how enthusiastic Olivia was to get on with it, no matter how willing he was to let her. She was also Breanna’s best friend—definitely not to be messed with.
So this kiss was absolutely a one-off. A souvenir. Just for fun, for New Year.
Except it felt like...more.
Her unique flavour was as exotic as any taste sensation he could concoct, drawing him into some kind of maelstrom that made his head spin and his heart pound in a crazy way.
He told himself it was the Scotch he’d drunk, that he’d not eaten since breakfast, that he was still recovering from seasickness, but, like an addict, he couldn’t seem to tear his lips away.
He wasn’t aware how long they stood there locked together from neck to knees and mouth to mouth but finally they both had to come up for air.
It was the break he needed to pull himself out of the spell he seemed to be under. His breathing was unsteady and he struggled for cool, clear sanity. Cursing silently, he ripped off the party hat, tossed it to the floor. Gripping her upper arms, he looked into her eyes, determined to ignore the tempting invitation he saw there. ‘This is not a good idea.’ He spoke each word slowly and deliberately as much for himself as for her.
Olivia watched him through a fog of desire swamped with frustration. Because she knew it was mutual—his dark gaze and the hard, hot ridge of masculine flesh between them proved his words were a lie. She tossed her own hat away. ‘Why?’
‘Because if you stay, we’re going to finish what we started a week ago. You’re killing me here, skipper.’
Her spine tingled with the thrill that his admission brought. She wasn’t going anywhere. She pushed at his chest. ‘I changed my mind about being with you. And don’t look so worried, it’s just for fun. I know that.’
‘Fun,’ he echoed, his brows drawing together as if he didn’t think her capable of such a notion.
‘You’re not a one-woman guy—you don’t even trust people enough to make friends—so yes, fun. What else would it be?’ Olivia picked up the supermarket bag still within reach on the table. Her hand trembled a bit as she drew out a smaller paper bag from the bottom.
His eyes darted to her package, back to hers. Heat smouldered in their depths, scarlet smudges flared high on his cheekbones. ‘What trouble are you planning on getting us into now?’
‘I’ve decided we need to finish whatever this is between us before we move on. And we’re going to finish it.’ She waved the paper bag in front of his face, opened it carefully. ‘That’s why I brought condoms.’
‘Olivia...’
Letting the bag fall to the floor, she held up the packets. ‘I didn’t know what you prefer so I got three. Ridged, ultra lubricated and extra l—’
‘Stop.’ Placing a thumb against her mouth, he sealed off the rest of her sentence. ‘Just stop.’
But Olivia refused to stop. She wanted him, and she was going to have him. She pried his thumb from her mouth and told him, ‘We’re just getting started.’
NINE
She’d never played a seductress-in-the-bedroom game. Never wanted to, never even been tempted and certainly wasn’t sure she knew how. But something deeper urged Olivia to try. Tomorrow might be too late.
And with Jett, it would be too late because this was their last night in Hobart. Tomorrow they’d go their separate ways. If they met up again—through Brie—it might be under very different personal circumstances.
She tucked the condom packets in the pocket of his shorts, then, since her hands were already in the vicinity, she took the opportunity to slide her fingers under his T-shirt. And up. She felt the hard muscles beneath his skin contract beneath her touch.
A strangled sound issued from his throat. She liked the sense of power his reaction gave her. That she could turn him on. She could get him to play.
‘Your skin’s so hot,’ she murmured, rubbing her hands over two flat male nipples as she gained confidence, stepping into the role with apparent ease. ‘Maybe you’d feel cooler if we just...take this...off.’ Heart pounding, she waited, her eyes on his, and saw a battle waging within their dark depths.
‘You’d better be sure about this,’ he said. ‘Because tomorrow I’m gone.’
‘I know. And I’m sure.’ Once started, her newly discovered inner seductress made it so easy to slip her hands onto his bare shoulders, lean in and convince him with her mouth, with her tongue. With a slide of her bare foot over his shin and up, agile toes finding purchase on the back of a hairy thigh.