“Way too upper crust.” I shook my head.
“That’s the spirit,” Hannah praised me. “You’ve got to enjoy this, Carrie. But don’t expect more.”
“I know, I know.” Another call beeped on my phone. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.” It was Colt calling me again.
“Promise me you’ll let me help you pack!” Hannah issued a parting warning. She’d instantly take out all the sensible items I had.
“Hey.” I sounded breathless already as I greeted Colt. He had that instant effect on me. “Are you just doing this to make the environmental protests go away?” The question left my mouth before I’d even decided to ask it. I guessed Zoe’s accusations had taken more root than I’d thought.
“Oh, Caroline,” Colt scoffed. I did like how he used my full name, dripping it off of his lips like honey. “These protestors are no match for me. I could make them all go away with a snap of my fingers.”
“Then why do you want to take me to Fiji?”
“To spend time with you. Don’t you want to spend time with me?”
Oh yes, I did, but doubt still licked at my heels. “Why aren’t you taking a woman from your harem?”
“My harem?”
“You know, those women you always have on your arm. At all those black tie events you go to.”
I could hear a smile in his words. “Has someone been googling me?”
Busted. How else would I have seen those photos of him? “Maybe,” I confessed.
“Is it because you can’t stop thinking about me?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Maybe.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed and he sounded dead serious. We were both silent for a moment. I could hear him breathing.
“Are you home?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
“Good, because I’m pulling up in front of your house.”
My heart leapt as I put down the phone. He was already here? I was still in my sun dress. He’d obviously know I was trying it on for the trip to Fiji. So much for playing coy.
But suddenly I didn’t want to play coy anymore. I’d always dreamed about traveling, exploring far-away places. I decided right then and there. I was going to Fiji.
I opened the door and he was inside in an instant, wrapping his arms around my waist and bending me in a heated kiss. His lips devoured mine, tasting, teasing, drinking me in.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he exhaled, holding me close. “I like this dress.” He stepped away for a second, admiring my figure.
“You want something to drink?” I offered, walking him into our tiny kitchen.
“Maybe.” He followed me, close. “What do you have?” He eyed me, wolfishly, and surprised me by circling me in his arms and lifting me up onto the kitchen countertop.
“What are you doing?” I laughed, breathlessly. With his hands on either side of my body, he leaned down and looked at me intently as he spoke.
“You need to come with me to Fiji.”
“For business purposes,” I answered him, looking serious. I didn’t know any more, was I teasing him? Testing him? Telling him? All I knew was my heart was pounding and I was having more fun than I’d had in a long, long time.
“Strictly business,” he agreed, dipping his mouth down to the curve of my neck, licking and sucking.
“Yes,” I exhaled, my eyes flickering closed, my hand entwining in his thick, dark hair. “No… shenanigans.”
“Nothing of the sort.” His lips trailed over to the spaghetti strap of my dress, then down along the edge of the low-cut neckline. “I would never do anything you don’t want me to do.” I shivered at his words, knowing how very many things I wanted him to do to me.
“You smell like honey.” He licked as he spoke, sucking at my skin, working his way down to my cleavage. “You taste like honey, too.”
“I use a lot of honey in baking,” I murmured. He drew up and gave me a mischievous grin. I nearly groaned in protest as he stopped. I didn’t want him to stop for a second. But then I saw what he was doing with his hand. I had a small pot of honey on the counter next to me. He picked it up.
“What are you—?” My eyes widened as I watched him pull at my dress. The straps fell down my shoulders and the fabric pooled down at my waist, leaving my breasts bare for him in no time. He took the swizzle stick from the pot of honey and drizzled it on my stiff nipples.
“So sweet,” he murmured, dropping his head to lick and suck my aching tips, laving me and groaning. I brought my hands up to his head, his shoulders, his back, crazy for him.
“Now be good,” he cautioned me, pulling away once again. “Hands down on the counter or you won’t get what you want.”
Panting, wide-eyed, I brought my hands to the countertop along ether side of my hips.
“Arch your tits up for me baby,” he murmured, husky. His words made me so wet, and a moan escaped my lips as I arched my back, displaying my breasts like he’d told me.
“That’s it,” he praised me, drizzling more honey on my nipples. This time he watched it ooze, dripping its way down my large breasts. “Fucking gorgeous,” he said, sounding amazed.
Bending down to flick, then give a soft lick to my nipples, he asked, “Do you like how I play with you?”
“Yes.” I had to be honest. I couldn’t tease anymore just then, not when I was practically slipping off the counter he’d made me so wet.
“I love your fat nipples,” he groaned, sinking his head down to suck and bite. “You have no idea what you do to me.” I moaned, keeping my hands where he wanted them but pushing my breasts toward him, wanting more.
“I liked how you came for me on the phone the other night,” he whispered, licking his way between my breasts. “Have you thought about that since?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Have you touched yourself again?”
“Yes.” I loved confessing it to him. He made me want to be so naughty.
He pulled away with a groan. “I beat off like a teenager. My cock was hard the whole week I was away from you.” He brought his hand down, cupping it under my bottom. Nuzzling my neck, he asked, “are you wet for me right now?”
“Yes,” I sighed, opening my legs for him, my need taking me past shyness.
“I can’t stop thinking about how you felt when you came on my fingers, so hot and sticky sweet. I want to lick your honey. Would you like that?”
A groan was all I could manage as he kneeled down, bringing his face at the level of my pussy. His large, commanding hands spread open my thighs on the counter, pulling my dress up.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, “no panties.”
“I was trying on clothes,” I panted.
“I want you like this the whole time we’re in Fiji. Don’t even bring panties.”
He leaned in and drew a long, slow lick across my pussy.
I nearly came at first contact. But then he spread me open and really started in, growling as he ate me, feasted on me, circling my clit, tongue-fucking my hole, until I leaned back and came full and hard for him. He licked and sucked every last drop like he’d never tasted anything so good.
Panting, dazed, I met his intense, relentless gaze. I could tell, he had a lot more in store for me. Watch out Fiji, here we come.
CHAPTER 11
Colt
To say I was thrilled that Caroline had said yes would be a massive understatement. I was over the moon. Her shy, happy face looking at me in her tiny kitchen and telling me yes, she’d go with me to Fiji? It filled my heart.
I wasn’t used to having that kind of reaction. Neutral, cool, that was how I played things personally and professionally. I’d seen people get destroyed by emotions. My own mother, for example. She’d been wrecked when she’d discovered my father’s infidelity. She’d had a full-on collapse.
That had been a brutal lesson, early on in my life: don’t get overly attached to relationships. If my mother had seen her marriage to my father for what it was—a business arrangement, not a union of love—she wouldn’t have felt so ransacked when she’d learned the truth. To my father, extramarital affairs didn’t mean he wanted a divorce. He was perfectly willing to stay married, keeping my mother in the style to which she was accustomed. But he also wanted to sleep with other women. If my mother had understood that from the outset, his cheating wouldn’t have hurt so much. Instead, when she’d discovered his infidelity, she’d attempted to take her own life, then nearly lost custody of her children due to a year-long stint in a mental institution. As the oldest, I was the only one of her children who knew about all that.
It only made sense, then, that I’d always made a point of keeping my heart out of any and all transactions. I knew first hand that approach made the most sense. And up until now, it hadn’t been an issue.
Which was why I felt so confused as I flew out of Redwood Bay to conduct some business in L.A., then Miami before returning to New York and, then, finally, seeing Caroline again on Saturday. That was the earliest I could get her to agree to. But the good news was that on Saturday I wouldn’t just see her, I’d see her as we flew to Fiji. I couldn’t stop thinking about that day. I’d never felt so distracted or impatient. Not by a woman, not by a business deal. Caroline got to me.