After Emma and I finish a morning run along the pristine beach, I settle into a wicker sofa and adjust my laptop over my knees. Emma passes me a fruity tropical cocktail, courtesy of the bunglow’s fully stocked bar. I stir it with the paper umbrella. Emma insists on them in everything, even ice water. A large wicker fan overhead spins lazily, and the crystalline blue water glints in the afternoon sun. No other bungalow mars the view. Marge’s face fills the video chat window.

“I’ve rescheduled this week’s meetings, but there’s a groundbreaking at UC San Francisco next week. You contributed to the new wing of the business school. They’ve asked you to make a few remarks and be part of the golden shovel crew.”

“Thanks, Marge. You can confirm for me. We’ll be back by then.” Behind my screen, Emma wiggles her hips in the red striped bikini she bought in Cadiz. Like always, my body reacts instantly.

Marge coughs. “One more thing, Mr. Stone?”

“Yes?” My eyes follow Emma to the bedroom.

“I’ve sent some documents that require a signature. E-signing should be acceptable, but these have been waiting for approval for some time now.”

“I’ll get those to you by tonight, your time. Promise.”

“Thank you. But I hope you enjoy yourself. I can’t remember the last vacation you took.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief. I’ve got a feeling she knows who I’m in Tahiti with, and that’s okay. I want everyone to know.

“Good night, Marge.”

I end the call and close the laptop. Can’t be too careful. Then I stalk toward the bedroom in pursuit of my woman.

I find her shacked up with her own laptop, typing furiously.

“What are you working on?” I stretch out on my side beside her.

“Feedback on a marketing plan for a major new client.”

“Camera’s not on, is it?”

“Course not.” She doesn’t look, but her nose wrinkles over the bridge. “Why?”

I yank the string behind her neck that holds up the little triangles covering her breasts.

“No reason.”

“Got something on your mind, Stone? Out with it.” She scowls but closes the laptop.

I flatten my palm and rub it in circles over her nipple. A raspy, happy sound bubbles in her throat.

“Just let me—” She laughs as my arm wraps around her belly, holding her in place. “Here, you take this then.”

I lift the laptop from her hands, close it, and roll over to toss it onto a cushioned settee.

She reaches behind her to untie the second bow, a movement that thrusts her breasts outward. Ever the opportunist, I capture one with my mouth.

“Mmmm,” she hums as my teeth skim over her nipple. I suck gently and swirl my tongue over the peak.

Eager hands tug my face up to hers, and our lips crash together. We’re kneeling on the bed, mouths searching. I roll my tongue against hers, and she swipes hers along my upper lip. Then she twists her upper body in some kind of defensive maneuver and shoves my shoulders against the mattress. With a flick of her wrist, Emma unties her bikini bottoms at the sides. Then she swings one powerful leg over my chest. Instead of sliding down, she walks up my body until her pussy hovers over my face.

“Emma,” I groan. “I want to taste that beautiful cunt of yours. Closer.”

She reaches down and fingers her clit while I watch.

“Now slide your fingers in,” I demand. “Let me see you.”

I want to call the shots, and she wants to throw it in my face. She angles her middle finger inside, then drags it back out to rub rapid circles over her clit.

I clutch her thighs and press her lower onto my face. She rocks against my flickering tongue, sighs of pleasure on her lips. I stare over her mound, up the expanse of her stomach, to where her hands cup both breasts. My balls draw up and my dick jumps, but I keep my hands on her. Her head falls back.

I close my lips on her clit and suck gently. The ecstasy on her face, the sweet musky smell of her engulfing me, the slide of her nether lips over my tongue—God, this woman makes me crazy.

I sit up, lifting her above me, and then twist to slam her down on the pillowy mattress. I cover her body with mine and take her mouth again so she will taste herself on my lips.

My dick presses into her belly. She rakes fingernails over my ass, drawing a growl from me. I shift aside and slide my palm over her mound. Her hips thrust toward my hand begging wordlessly. I slide two fingers into her and she cries out.

“Louder,” I say. “There’s no one to hear you.”

“Nate,” she grinds out. “I want you inside me. Fill me up. Fuck me. Now.”

I rise to my knees and position myself between her legs, then I hook my palms under her knees and nudge them up. She gets the idea, and lifts one leg, then the other, to hang her heels over my shoulders. My throbbing dick nudges at her soft folds, and I’m panting with need. Her hands go over her head to hold the headboard, and I push into her exquisitely slow. Her walls envelop me. I pull out, gritting my teeth to maintain control, and then slam into her. We both cry out, and I pump my hips faster, thrusting deeper each time. Her cries climb in pitch, and I pause, buried to the balls in her pussy. She quivers around me. I turn my head aside to kiss the inside of her knee, salty with a light sheen of sweat.

I pull out of her and lower her legs to the bed. In a flash, she rolls over, rises to her knees, and presses a hand on my chest. I fall back to the mattress, pulling her on top of me. My hands nearly meet around her tiny waist, and I slide them around to her ass. Because I’ve wanted to forever, I give it a little smack. She yelps, then gives me an evil grin.

She bends over my chest and flicks a tongue over my nipple. Teeth follow, just enough to sting, and then soft lips soothe. She kisses up to my neck with soft suction until I’m nearly begging.

“Dammit, Emma. You’re so fucking sexy.” Her breasts hang over me like tantalizing fruit. I fill my hands with them and rub my thumbs over her nipples. In response, she moves down my torso, lifts her hips over my dick, and captures me in a tight fist between her legs. She pauses and rubs her wet slit over my head. So close. I grip her waist and shove my hips upward. She gasps and sinks on to me, pleasure written on her face.

Her hands brace against my chest, and she rolls her hips over me. I try to watch her face, but my eyes drift irresistibly closed. The motion of her hips carries me forward on waves of ecstasy.

I give up any pretense of control and let her take me with her to the edge.

“You look gorgeous on my cock, Emma.” I thrust up to meet her with a grunt. “Your pussy is so wet. So goddam good.”

“Right there, Nate.” She leans forward and grinds against me so her clit gets action too. “You’re so big—yes. Don’t stop fucking me. Harder. I’m so close.” Her hips pick up speed until her tits slaps against my chest each time we meet. Our cries merge and overlap, tempo rising.

The first spasms of her climax grip me as she screams my name. My mind blanks. My pulse thunders in my ears almost in time to tide lapping at the shore outside. I let go, spilling my seed into her with a hoarse yell.

She wilts onto my chest, and with effort I lift leaden arms to cradle her. Sweat cools on our skin under the breeze of the fan.

Wind murmurs in the thatch of the bungalow. Birds I don’t recognize call in the distance. Ocean currents eddy around the bungalow’s thick support poles. For a moment, I can’t distinguish the sound of my own breath from Emma’s. A peace that has always eluded me settles over my chest, and I tighten my arms around my woman. She makes a sleepy sound and kisses my chest, just above my heart.

* * *