There's an edge to his voice, almost anger.
"I'm sorry, Jane. I'm so damn sorry."
I don't reply--I haven't got a clue what to say. I just sit there and watch--in shock, in surprise, in absolute total disbelief--as he tucks his now-soft cock back into his shorts, turns around, and climbs out over the rocks, leaving me alone and naked in the cove.
All fucked up.
Wasn't that what he'd told the redhead? That he liked his sex fucked up? Dirty? Base?
And it was true. It was so damn true.
But not with Jane. He'd never wanted to drag her down like that with him. So what did he do the first chance he got? He jacked off to the sight of her masturbating, just like he would have done with any of his other women. Just like he'd so often ordered them to do so he could get release. So that he could keep that tight hold on the way that sex played out in his bedroom and at the club.
He should never have given in, but he'd been so hard, and she'd looked so damned amazing. He knew what she'd been doing--her idiotic idea that they needed to fuck each other out of their systems. It wouldn't work. He'd never be rid of the want of her, the need of her. But today, she'd been trying to force his hand. To make him take the lead.
In a way, he supposed he'd done just that.
He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated because he didn't know where to go with this. They were on some damn sexual merry-go-round, and they were going to have to figure a way off if they wanted to have any sort of relationship at all. He couldn't fuck her and he didn't want to lose her, and he was all out of options.
A dull ache was building in his head, and he went to the bar and poured himself a scotch, just to take the edge off. He'd intended to sip it, but instead he slammed it back, then poured another. His cock was stiff again just from the memory of the way he'd gotten off while watching her finger-fuck herself. He figured he'd toss this second drink back, too, and then go take an ice-cold shower and see if that helped.
He stripped off his shirt, then did the same with his shorts and briefs. He wasn't even out of the small living room when he heard the door open. He cursed himself for not thinking to lock it--when did he ever on the island?--then turned instinctively, expecting Liam.
Instead, he saw Jane. A wildness in her eyes and raw fury on her face. "Just who the hell do you think you--"
She stopped cold, obviously just now seeing him, and her strangled little gasp made his already heated skin burn even hotter.
He watched as she gathered herself. Blinking a little and then biting on her lower lip as her eyes roamed slowly over him.
He didn't think she did it on purpose, but when she reached his eyes, she actually licked her lips, like he was her own private candy stash. The thought curled through him, along with a delicious fantasy of how he'd like to order her to suck him off.
Fuck.
"Don't you knock?"
He saw the debate play across her face, along with an innocent pink blush that made him want to turn her over his knee and spank her, just to see if he could get the exact same color on her ass.
The indecision on her face lasted only for a moment. Then she burst forward as if she'd been shot and wrapped herself around him, her lower abs warm and soft against his cock, her mouth hard and hot on his.
He should have pushed her away right then, but he no longer had the strength. She'd won, maybe, but he'd damn well make the victory his own.
Wildly, he took her, kissing her deep. Hard. He slid one hand under her hair and untied the simple bow that held her bikini up. Then he slid his hand down and repeated the process with the bow at her back.
The two triangles of material stayed put--held tight by the pressure of her breasts against his chest--but he knew they would fall away if he stepped back, exposing her to him.
He didn't step back. Not yet. Not when he could still savor the moment.
Now, instead, he focused on her mouth. He slid one hand up and held her throat so that she couldn't step back, couldn't move. She could only open her mouth to him and give him what he wanted. And she did, her low, whimpering sounds of pleasure shooting straight to his cock.
With his free hand, he cupped her ass, then found the scarf's loose knot at her hip and untied it. He let the silk fall away, anticipating repeating the process with her bikini bottoms. But she was bare beneath the scarf, and that naughty boldness made him smile and kiss her deeper.
As his tongue explored her mouth, his palm cupped her bare ass and pushed her tighter against him so that the movement of their joined bodies stroked and teased his cock. The friction sent waves of pleasure rolling through him, taking him closer to the edge until he was on the verge of coming right there. Right on her stomach, her tits.
And that's when--finally--some tiny spark of reason cut through the sensual haze and he pushed her away from him.
With a sigh, he started to reach down to pick up his shorts. She got there faster, grabbed them, then tossed them across the room.
"What the--"