Chapter Six
Fifty contestants milled about the conference room, all taking turns with the producers who were taking pictures and videoing the girls’ bios for the start of the show tomorrow. Cal had already recorded his short stint.
For those who had finished, there were hors d’oeuvres and drinks, and Cal had been instructed to introduce himself to all the women. Already he could categorize them. There were the touchy-feelies, who had to touch him when they spoke: hand on his arm, on his chest, on his hand. Then there were the narcissists who launched into monologues about all of their accomplishments: their degrees, their awards, yada, yada, yada. There were smilers, who somehow—miraculously—managed to keep smiles plastered on their faces the entire time they spoke.
Three asked him about himself.
Only one apologized.
“I’m sorry I barged into first class,” Grace Evans said when he joined her by the oyster bar.
She was a very attractive woman, blond hair, wearing a retro, polka-dotted dress with a snug waist and full skirt. A bright-red flower pulled back one side of her hair, lending to that illusion of being from another era.
“No worries,” he said.
“I didn’t know where Becca had gone and—” Suddenly she put a hand to her head and cringed.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head, blond curls bobbing. “Yeah…I just—” She covered her ear, in obvious pain, just as Kevyn Kahn walked by with his entourage of camera and mic people. He was introducing himself and the show. Twice he stopped, demanding they start recording over again. Always because someone else had screwed up.
Kevyn paused when he saw Cal and then glanced at Grace. His head tilted to one side.
“Hey. Do I know you?”
Still holding a hand to the side of her head, she shook her head.
“You sure? We never dated?”
“Nope. Not me. No. Never.”
Cal glanced at Grace. She was lying. Why? Did she know Kevyn?
“My mistake. I’ve dated a lot of women.” He flashed a grin and then punched Cal on the shoulder as he moved past. It was probably meant to be a friendly tap, but there was more force behind it than necessary.
Cal growled.
Grace sneezed. Three times. She turned away and something dropped to the floor. Before he had a chance to see what it was, she scooped it up and tucked whatever it was into her handbag.
“Bless you.”
“Thank you.” She smiled.
Though there was very little resemblance between the sisters, Cal caught something in Grace’s smile that seemed familiar. “What’s Becca up to tonight?”
Her expression went from expectant to confused. “My sister?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged. “God. Who knows. Probably working.” She snorted. It was the same sort of sound that Becca had made on the plane. “I’ll tell you what she’s not doing.”
“What’s that?”
She stepped closer, smiling in a mischievous way. “Meeting someone. Even though she needs to. This is her vacation, too, right?”
“I suppose so.”
Grace leaned close. “I love my sister,” she said. “But she really needs to get laid.”
For the first time that night, Cal laughed. Not because what Grace said was necessarily funny, but because it was so unexpected. “Oh, she does, does she?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Yes. Badly. She’s too serious. Works too hard. She’s all…tightly wound, you know what I mean? But…” She rested her hand on Cal’s forearm. Grace’s touch wasn’t like the other women’s. It was natural.
“Nothing a good orgasm wouldn’t take care of.”
Coming from any of the other women, Cal would have bet that Grace was trying to shock him or elicit a response from him. But there was something so innocent and down-to-earth about her that she just came across as genuine.
Grace glanced in the direction of Kevyn. “As long as it’s a nice guy and not some asshole,” she said absently.
“Do you know Kevyn Khan?”
“You mean Wasinski?”
“Is that his real name?”
“What? No. I mean. I don’t know Kevyn. Kevyn who?” Grace had a panicky expression on her face. “I gotta go to the ladies’ room. If you’ll excuse me.”
Cal watched Grace hurry off. Oh, yeah. She knew Kevyn, and she didn’t want him to remember. Interesting.
Almost as interesting as her statement about Becca needing to get laid. Cal smiled to himself. Maybe he could be of service…
He had no opportunity to explore the thought, though, because within seconds, he was surrounded by women, smiles wide, hips swaying, and hair flipping.
What he wouldn’t give to be hanging out with Becca right now. Maybe helping her unwind.
…
Well, that was a fucking disaster. With a drink in one hand and her cell phone in the other, Becca wandered along the path toward the beach. The sound of the waves crashing against the sand greeted her. Mixed with it was music from the nearby bar and laughter from a group of people walking in the opposite direction.
The earbud had stayed in Grace’s ear for less than an hour, at least long enough for her to do her mini-interview with the producers. But the second she’s alone with Calum, what does her sister do? Pulls out the earbud and goes rogue.
No. Not rogue. She says the very worst possible thing.
Becca needs to get laid.
Nothing a good orgasm wouldn’t take care of.
Honest to God. She couldn’t have fictionalized a worse scenario. What on earth compelled her sister to say such a thing? The worst part was, she had been able to see and hear it all, but once Grace had removed the earbud, she wasn’t able to hear Becca.
If she had, she’d have clearly heard Becca cursing her.
With every single fucking four-letter word she could think of.
There must have been some feedback from some of the other electronic equipment in the area. She’d have to adjust the settings when they returned to the room. In the meantime, Becca set her drink and phone down on a side table, pulled a lounge chair from beneath a palapa and settled herself on it to do one of the few things that would help her chill.
Stargaze.
Because there were no big-city lights around, stars filled the sky. There was Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini…a shooting star—meteor—all clearly visible. It was nothing like viewing the sky with a high-powered telescope, but still, it was pretty remarkable, even with the naked eye.
Naked.
She closed her eyes, imagining Calum lying on top of her, only this time they were naked.
By the way he kissed, she just knew he would be good in bed. No, fantastic in bed. God. He’d probably even enjoy going down on a woman. With her eyes closed, Becca imagined the scenario. Just the two of them, naked on the beach, Cal exploring her entire body. Her neck…her collarbones, her breasts. Would he be gentle with her nipples or rough?
Rough.
Oh God.
Would he hold her down as he kissed her stomach, licking her navel, her hips…?
The image of his dark hair against the light skin of her thighs made her moan. Out loud. More than once.
“Becca? Is that you?”
She was startled into an upright position, her hands moving protectively in front of her…and tossing the remainder of her drink right into Calum Price’s face.
“Oh God. I’m sorry.” She tried to wipe his face with the back of her hand. “What are you doing here?”
“Just needed some quiet time before heading back to my villa. I thought I heard a moan, and then I saw someone lying here.” He sat on the lounge beside her. “I was worried until I realized it was you. Then I was…”
“What?” she asked breathlessly. Realizing how silly she sounded—her stupid fantasy was still going on inside her head—she corrected her octave and said in a deeper voice, “You were what?”
“Relieved. I need a little sanity.”
To some women, that might not be a compliment. To Becca, it was one of the nicest things a man could have said, particularly when he intertwined his fingers with hers and rubbed his thumb along the inside of her wrist.
“Tough night?” she whispered, because all the protons, electrons, photons and every other particle inside of her reacted as if sent through a particle accelerator. That shit makes a girl breathless.
“You could say that.”
“Did you see my sister?” Becca asked, hoping her voice sounded more normal to him than it did to her.
“Yes.” His face was cloaked in shadow, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
“And, did the two of you talk?” Becca cringed inside, waiting to hear Cal’s take on her sister’s comments.
“Oh, yes.”
She waited to see if he would say more.
“She’s funny, your sister. I enjoyed talking with her.”
Okay, that was not what she’d expected him to say. People commented on Grace’s looks and poise, not on her conversational skills.
Suddenly the reality of the situation sobered her. Calum was here to host a contest in which he was the prize. She couldn’t compete with that.
She’s no one…
Becca pulled her hand out from Calum’s and squinted through the inky darkness, trying to make out his features. She was left with only a shadow and had nothing to go on.
“Cal? Why do you keep doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. Seeking me out. Pretending to like me.”
“What kind of question is that?”
“It’s a very reasonable question. Here you are, surrounded by beautiful women all vying for your attention, yet you keep…” She took a deep breath. Kissing me. “Talking to me. Why?”
“Do you honestly need me to answer that?”
“Yes.”
He reached for her shoulder, slid his hand softly around her neck, and pulled her closer. “Becca,” he whispered.
It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, and yet he seemed to say everything she needed to know in the rough edges of his voice. Connection. Passion. Need.
For her?
It seemed ludicrous, and yet he drew her forward like it was a need he couldn’t control. When his mouth found hers, it was different than both times before. This was not the relieved kiss from the airplane bathroom. Neither was it the adrenaline-filled kiss after nearly being drowned on the beach. This was something else. His mouth consumed hers, nipping and tasting, sucking and licking. He tilted her head one way and then another, his tongue dipping deeper, seeking hers out and reintroducing himself.
And then he moaned into her mouth.
Or was that her?
Didn’t matter.
There was moaning.
And God…she wanted him so badly. Becca didn’t think she’d ever wanted a man as much as she wanted Calum Price right now.
“Come back to my villa.”
“What?”
“Becca.” He pulled back. It was too dark to see his eyes, but she could feel his warm, sweet breath on her cheeks. The shallow pants that matched her own. “I want you.”
This wasn’t happening. She’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. That was the only possible explanation, because there was no way that Calum Fucking Price, the Most Eligible Bachelor on the Face of the Earth, could seriously want her.
Her.
Ordinary Becca Evans.
“Becca? Did you hear me?”
But damn…if it was a dream? If this was some weird cosmic anomaly, alternate universe whatever-the-fuck? Well then, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Let’s go.”
…
My sister needs to get laid.
Yep. That statement had been running on repeat in Calum’s brain when, BAM, he’d happened upon the very woman who needed his services.
She’d asked him why he kept seeking her out and the truth was, Cal didn’t know. It wasn’t like he consciously went looking for the woman, yet he kept running into her. Happenstance, though not the sexiest of explanations, was the truth. But the coincidence of their meetings did not explain what happened every time he saw her.
Like a few minutes ago, when he’d found her stretched out on a lounge chair, on the beach, in the dark.
Moaning.
And just like that, his cock had stiffened, his mouth had watered, and his hands had itched. For her.
He wanted her mouth. The mouth that laughed and smiled and mocked him, for fuck’s sake. He wanted her body pressed against his. Not because she was perfect, but because she fit perfectly. He’d known it from the second he’d found himself on top of her in the surf. It was confirmed when he’d picked her up and she’d curled so naturally into his chest, her arms around his neck. He wanted to explore that fit, find out if other parts of them were as compatible. Whether that warm, sweet space between her thighs would match his aching cock.
“Wow, this is nice.” Becca turned a circle in the main living area of his villa. “Much nicer than ours.”
“Is it?” He untied the strap at the top of one shoulder and then moved on to the next, kissing the pink skin left bare. “This is pretty fucking nice.”
Her head lolled back, exposing her creamy throat, inviting Cal in for a lick. She tasted citrusy and delicious.
“Why…?”
“Shh. No more questions.”
Taking her hand, he led her across the room to the bedroom. The drapes were still open, and even through the glass of the French doors, he could hear the crashing waves.
“Beautiful view.”
He stood behind her, unzipped the back of her sundress, and gently tugged it down until it pooled about her feet. With hands on her shoulders, he turned her. The silvery moonlight reflecting off the ocean illuminated her fair skin, giving her the appearance of a mythical creature, like a mermaid or water nymph. “You’re right, the view is beautiful.”
“Cal…”
He pressed his fingertips to her lips to silence her before dragging the backs of his knuckles along her jaw, across her collarbones, and down, gently circling her breasts.
Not too big. Not too small.
Just right.
She made a soft sound that came from deep inside her chest. A sound of pleasure and want.
Yes.
He wanted, too.
Cal lowered his mouth to her breast, finding her tight little nipple and sucking on it. When she arched into him, he sucked harder. When she groaned—deep and guttural—he bit.
“Cal!”
Fuck. What had he just done? He pulled away, but Becca’s hands were at the back of his head, holding him close as she arched into him.
“Again,” she panted.
Christ.
With hands splayed across her back, he moved to her other breast, sucking on the skin around her areola, leaving marks before nibbling the tight tip of her.
“God, that feels good.”
His teeth abraded her, and her moans and sighs encouraged him to be as rough as he liked.
Could it be that she fit him in that realm, as well?
Impossible.
Okay, he needed to find some self-control. Normally, Cal was the epitome of restraint, reading the cues of his partners, knowing when to be gentle, when to be rough. Always having the ability and the intuition to tell the difference. But for some reason, being with Becca was different. His mind was telling him to go slow, while his cock, tongue, and hands wanted more, and his ability to control which way to go was elusive.
Grinding his teeth, Cal stopped.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. While he couldn’t see her features in the dim room, her voice wavered with insecurity. The doubt was confirmed when she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Becca, I—”
She stooped, snatched her dress from the floor and brought it up in front of her. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain.”
Catching her shoulders before she did something stupid, like get dressed, Cal said, “Oh, yes, I do. I’m not stopping because I don’t want you.”
“Then why are you stopping?”
“Normally, I can control myself, but…”
“But what?” she asked quickly.
He reached for her hip and drew her closer. “Two seconds ago? With you? I thought I was going to fucking lose myself.”
“With me?” Her dress fell to the ground.
“Yes, Becca. With you.” His hands glided over the soft skin of her ass, and he squeezed because he had to curb the desire to lay his palm flat against her ass and smack it.
“So…” Her hand went to the buttons of his shirt, and she started popping them, one by one. “Do you want to lose it with me?”
“Yes.”
She paused for a second before popping the next button.
“Does that frighten you?” he asked.
Tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, she slowly shook her head back and forth, and in the dim room, he swore she smiled a soft, coy smile. Then she undid the last button and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He stood completely still as she explored his chest, his hands opening and closing at his sides, doing his best to rein in his rampant desires, because he knew this woman had no idea what she was talking about, no idea who she was dealing with.
Until she bit him.
His hands flew from where they were hanging idly by his sides to her head. She looked up at him and grinned. “I like it like that.”
He groaned, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“No, Cal. You don’t know. You don’t know me, and you don’t know what I like in bed.”
“Tell me what you like.”
“How about I show you.”
And then she dropped to her knees and proceeded to unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly, and push his shorts and boxers right down his legs. The sight of her kneeling before him, his rigid cock in one hand as she ran her fingernails up and down the inside of his legs, took his breath away. When she leaned over his tip and breathed hot air over him while squeezing, he found his hands back in her hair, gripping and twisting.
She rubbed his cock against her cheek, one part sweet, three parts sexy, before wetting her lips and playing with the tip of him, moving him from side to side against her half open mouth.
Cal loved a good blow job. What man didn’t love having his dick sucked? But he’d always been able to tell when a woman was acting and when she enjoyed it because it increased his pleasure exponentially when the woman got off on what she was doing. Which in his experience was rare.
Becca?
God.
This was no act.
Her feet writhed against each other on the floor like they were having their own make-out session. Her fingers gripped and squeezed as she moved around his cock, sometimes licking like he was a melting ice cream cone, other times sucking. So fucking deep. Then—bless her—she scraped her teeth against his skin as she withdrew.
But the best part was the little sounds she made. Not the sounds of wet body parts, but the soft little mewls, the sound of a contented kitten suckling at her mother’s teat.
Her groan of pleasure when she took him halfway down her throat was less kitten-like and more vixen-like, and Cal found himself once again on the verge of losing it.
He pulled out of her grasp and hauled her to her feet.
“My turn.”