A fun, flirty romantic romp…with a twist!
Paige Barber needs a vacation.
She can’t resist her best friend’s offer of a remote vacation home on a private
Caribbean island. Jimmy, the sexy pool boy, is part and parcel with the offer.
But recently dumped Paige has no intention of taking advantage of that
amenity…until she sets eyes on Jimmy. He’s not a boy at all, but the sexiest
man Paige has ever met.
And
he can cook. Oh, man, can he cook!
She thinks it will be easy
returning to the real world after an utterly wanton and sensuous week in the
arms of a hot, hard, perfect man. But it’s not. It’s not easy at all.
Read an Excerpt:
The house
was quiet and shadowed as I padded back to the pool. I didn’t see any sign of
Jimmy, which was just as well. My dreams had been filled with him; he’d haunted
every crevice of my sleep. I felt like I’d been steeped in him, reliving every
touch, every glance, every fantasy.
Those
dreams clung to my consciousness, as dreams sometimes do, stoking a hunger I
hadn’t even realized I had.
I’d been
kind of joking when I’d invited Jimmy to my room, but in truth, it hadn’t been
a joke at all. I wanted him. Really wanted him. Needed him, maybe.
Needed the
oblivion a wild, steamy, pointless affair could provide.
My ego
ached after Harlan’s betrayal, but it was more than that. It was more than
assuaging a hit to my self-esteem.
I simply
wanted Jimmy.
Wanted him
in a way I’d never wanted a man before.
Maybe it
was the isolation. Maybe it was the magnificent surroundings. Maybe it was
simply the fact that he was hotter than hot. Certainly hotter than Harlan with
his bad-boy-biker persona, his bull ring. His tattoos. Nothing about him had been real in the end. Nothing
about us had been either.
The tiny
lights strung around Marlee’s patio glowed as they bobbed in the breeze. The
waters of the hot tub steamed a warm welcome, bathed in a surreal blue that
shone like a beacon in the gathering night.
I tossed
my towel on a lounge chair and stepped in. And hissed.
Warmth
lapped at me. I sank, allowing the water to consume me slowly. My skin shivered
as I eased deeper, all the way to my neck. I turned around and leaned against
one of the benches formed in the tile and closed my eyes.
Heaven.
I owed
Marlee. And I owed her big time.
This place
was, indeed, heaven on earth. And Jimmy… Well, the jury was still out on that
one. Marlee had been frank. “Paige,”
she’d said. “You need to get laid. And
trust me, if anyone can help you forget about that douchebag Harlan Rivers,
it’s my Jimmy.” I tried not to let it bug me that she’d put it that way. My Jimmy. Not that I had any ownership of him. Not that I wanted it.
I just
wasn’t used to sharing men with my best friend.
Remembering
the ripple of his pec beneath my palm, I nibbled my lip.
I could
probably get over it…
“May I
join you?”
I opened
my eyes at the deep voice, at the question tinged with a throb.
My heart
stuttered. My breath caught.
Gawd.
Jimmy.
Standing there next to the hot tub, wearing nothing but a tight black Speedo.
Everything I had imagined under his casual clothes, everything I had hoped for,
was there. Thick muscles roping his chest and forearms, thighs like tree
trunks, a flat, taut belly, sculpted abs and a tantalizing dark line arrowing
toward a magnificent bulge.
I nearly
swallowed my tongue.
“May I?”
Oh lord,
I’d been ogling. “Yes. Please. Come on in. The water’s fine.”
Yeah,
lame. Cliché. But there you go. It was the best I could come up with. My brain,
apparently, was on vacation as well.
The water
rose as he eased in. His groan echoed off the shadows. He’d taken off his
glasses so I had an unfettered view of his face. When his eyes closed, in that
moment of bliss as the water enveloped him, when his lips parted…I thought,
perhaps, that was what his O-face would look like.
One could
hope.
Many men
were like monkeys when their crisis descended. Which was why I rarely looked. I
was possessed of the sharp, sudden urge to see Jimmy in ecstasy. To watch him
come.
Okay, not
so sudden. But definitely sharp.
Though he
sat across from me, the hot tub wasn’t too big, and his foot nudged mine. I
didn’t jerk away, though my first inclination was to do just that. I reminded
myself that any advance had to come from him. Jimmy was Marlee’s pool boy, not
a sex slave. And if he wasn’t interested—I ignored the dark dip of my mood at
the thought—that would be that.
So when
his foot grazed mine, I steeled my spine and left it there. Next to his.
Our gazes
tangled. His toe slipped up my ankle, a tentative foray. A fluttery thrill, an
unexpected shower of arousal, trickled through me.
I stroked
back.
His focus
on me intensified, though it flicked, for a fraction of an instant, to my
breasts. They bobbed in the water, as breasts often did, buoyed and jubilant to
be released from the bondage of gravity. He licked his lips. My nipples pebbled
as I imagined his mouth on them.
His eyes
narrowed then raked their way back to my face. “How-how did you sleep?”
Was it my
imagination or was he struggling for words? As though casual talk had no place
between us, but he needed the lubricant.
The
thought of lubricant, and what we could do with it, flashed through my brain.
Fizzled there, incinerating all other preoccupations.
“I slept
well.”
“Good.” A
rough growl. “The room was to your liking?”
“Yes.”
“The
bed…comfortable?”
The word bed made me shudder. Maybe it was just
the way he said it, infusing it with meaning, intent.
Or maybe
it was simply the fact that he’d slipped nearer.
The breeze
shifted and brought his scent to me on wispy tendrils. That intoxicating bite
of his cologne made my head spin.
“Are
you…hungry?” His voice rumbled, thrummed with double entendre.
“Not for
food.” A whisper. I barely choked it out. Because he’d come close, and closer still.
“But first… Rules.”
His brow
wrinkled. “Rules?”
I nodded
primly. Best to just get this out. I held up a finger. “One. Always use
protection.”
“P-protection?”
He stared at me like a deer in the headlights. Seriously? Had he not known it
was going this way? Had he not suspected?
Or was he
shy?
I kind of
liked that. I kind of liked the fantasy that he didn’t screw Marlee and every
one of the friends she sent to him.
He cleared
his throat and nodded. “Okay. Protection.” He swallowed. “Any other rules?”
“Just
one.” It had to be said. “No talking about Marlee.”
His
features froze. His lips opened and closed. “No, ah, talking about Marlee?”
“Exactly.”
I pushed off, floated into his arms. He caught me. His hands skated over my wet
skin reverently, sending ripples in his wake. “I don’t want anything between
us, Jimmy. Not anything at all.”
“Oh God.”
He yanked me close. It was a shock, the feel of him so hard and rough against
my body, but a delightful one.
“Nothing
between us,” I whispered.
“Nothing.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Her Royal Hotness,
Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot,
humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet &
sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check
out her books, excerpts and contests.
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