Tropical Bartender Bear (Shifting Sands Resort 3) - Page 27

Amused but hushed conversation sprang up in her wake.

“Give my regards to Chef for the meal,” Laura told Breck when he checked in on them next. “I really enjoyed this.”

She wondered if Chef would remember her undignified exit from his office earlier and had to smother a giggle.

Fred made one more weak attempt to convince her to watch the show, but Laura was already waving off dessert. She knew what she wanted for dessert, and it wasn’t any of the choices on the platter making the rounds of the dining room.

For the next hour, she paced her small hotel room. She tried concentrating on Jenny’s laptop, but her mind was not up for unraveling any mysteries, and she listened to the sounds of the resort through her open window instead — a note at the door of the hotel apologized for the air conditioning being under repair. Her heart lifted after a stampede of chattering traffic made its way to the theater, and the noises stilled to muffled music and distant applause.

When Tex finally knocked at the door, Laura was somehow unsurprised that she knew it was him before she opened it.

It wasn’t just a guess, she knew it somewhere behind her breastbone. Her wolf whined in anticipation.

She flung the door open, just as she realized that she should probably have changed into something more inviting during her wait.

Tex, holding a guitar in one hand and a cut flower in the other, looked at her as if she were wearing something that wasn’t even an option from Jenny’s limited wardrobe.

“I hoped you’d come,” she said, breathlessly, wondering if it sounded as foolish as her smile felt.

“The bar was dead,” Tex said, with a slow, appreciative smile. “I got Bastian to agree to serve drinks when the swimsuit contest breaks up and the losers need consolation drinks.”

Laura grinned. “Would you like to host your own swimsuit competition privately here this evening? I’ve got four designs to choose from…”

They didn’t even make it to the first, as Tex put his guitar in the corner and kicked the door closed behind him, reaching for her.

Laura tipped her head back and opened her mouth, sliding her arms up around his strong neck.

This wasn’t the same kind of lovemaking that they’d desperately snuck in Chef’s tiny locked office. This was slower, no less urgent, but more controlled.

He explored her body without removing her clothing, kissing where cloth revealed her skin, but making no move to tear it off. Laura followed suit, running her hands over his chest over the staff polo shirt. She let a fingernail trace his big belt buckle, and ran her hands back to squeeze his fine ass through his khaki staff pants.

They kissed and discovered each other, rising to a fever pitch of desire that Laura had never felt before.

“May I?” Tex finally asked, fingers at the bottom of her tank top.

“Oh, hell yes,” Laura managed, almost past speech with craving.

He peeled her tank top off so slowly that Laura actually whimpered. Then, when her hands were tangled in the garment above her head, he held her there for a long moment, his other hand following the curve of her side with worshipful slowness.

Laura didn’t exactly struggle, but gave a whine and needy wiggle, and Tex finished pulling the tanktop off of her and threw it across the room.

Laura saved him the trouble of fumbling with her bra and unclipped the back, but relished the way he pulled the straps off her shoulders, and released her breasts to the cooling night air as if in slow motion.

The bra joined the tanktop across the room.

Tex stepped back. The loss of his touch was delicious torture, and Laura swayed in place.

He drank her in, all appreciation and awe, then looked her in the eyes, expression overflowing with desire.

Laura had a sudden urge to prolong this, to wind him up and make him lose control, so when he moved to touch her again, she put up a hand and drew back to sit on the bed without him.

“Let’s see your moves, cowboy,” she told him, and she gestured with his hand.

He gave that slow, boyish smile, and reached for his hat.

“No,” Laura stopped him with a word. “Leave the hat for last.”

Tex tipped it at her, then proceeded to reach for his belt buckle. He flipped it open in one smooth motion, but paused, and made a show out of pulling his belt from the loops of his khakis. The cowboy boots went next, and he turned away from her so that his reach for them showed off his ass.

Tags: Zoe Chant Shifting Sands Resort Fantasy
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