Kayla sighed and melted into the massage table. Snorkeling had been fun, though it had taken a few tries to get the hang of it. Once or twice she forgot to breathe only through her mouth and ended up with an unexpected snout full of briny water. On the plus side, her nasal and sinus passages were cleaner than they had ever been.

Parasailing had been exhilarating. The only downside to that was that she had been paired with a woman who screeched and screamed through a good part of it.

The guy running the boat thought it would be a good idea to put two newbies together. The other woman had been visibly terrified, so he had thought it might calm her to have someone go up with her. It was a good idea, in theory.

Kayla had a feeling she would feel the woman’s grip on her forearm long after the visible bruises faded.

She was done with the exciting stuff. Now it was time to relax and enjoy what was left of her three-day dream getaway.

Soothing music played in the background, the same kind they played in her yoga class. Oil diffusers placed throughout the room filled the air with a pleasant mix of vanilla, sandalwood, and patchouli.

Naked beneath the draped white sheet, she waited patiently for the masseuse. She had opted for the full-body package and wondered if she would get Olga, the gorgeous Nordic beauty, or Sven, the Chris Hemsworth look-alike. At this point, either would be fine with her. In addition to being physically tired, she had used a lot of muscles her thirty-something body wasn’t used to using and was looking forward to a good, thorough rub down.

When the door closed softly behind her, Kayla didn’t bother opening her eyes; she could hear the masseuse moving around the private room in preparation. Then fragrant, hot oil drizzled over her back and shoulders. She groaned softly when she felt strong, masculine hands begin to work her overtaxed muscles. Sven it was.

It felt heavenly. No, better than heavenly. Sven had some magical hands. He worked slowly and methodically, starting with the knots at the base of her neck and working his way outward and down. She could have sworn she heard him suck in a breath when he pulled the sheet past her backside.

She smiled at the floor, glad now that she had listened to her trainer and kept squats and mountain-climbers in her workout routine. It was always nice when her hard work was appreciated.

Her mind went back to the elevator again, and her smile widened. Spencer Dumas had seemed pretty appreciative of her ass, too. She remembered his murmured sounds of approval. The way his long fingers knew just how to touch and stroke ...

... kind of like they were doing right now.

Kayla’s eyes popped open and she inhaled deeply. The air still held the scents of essential oils, but it held something else now, too. A spicy, masculine scent she would forever associate with great sex.

Wait. Spencer Dumas was giving her a massage?

She must have tensed, because his hands stopped kneading and started caressing. She tried turning over, but those strong hands held her down as he chuckled wickedly.

Instantly, exhaustion vanished and a wave of pure, unbridled lust washed over her. Her nipples pebbled against the table and her core clenched in eager anticipation. What was it about this man that shot her libido from zero to sixty in a heartbeat?

He made another pass of her body, catering to every inch with consummate skill and precision.

Then he added his lips.

Soft kisses pressed along her skin, starting at her shoulders. When he reached her spine, two, long fingers slipped between her folds and started stroking while his tongue mimicked the slow, agonizing strokes. He worked his way down, and when he reached the curves of her ass, he let her feel his teeth. He scraped them over her flesh, pausing every now and then to take a nibble. It was quite possibly the most erotic, sensual thing she had ever felt; the wet spot on the sheet beneath her sex confirmed it.

For a few, brief moments, he pulled away. Then her arousal shot up another level when she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of clothes hitting the floor. She held her breath, her heart pounding furiously in her chest, matching the aching throb between her legs.

She felt him pulling his body—his naked body—up onto the table. Up onto her.

Spencer’s warm, welcomed weight settled against her back, the coarse hairs on his legs tickling her outer thighs and calves.

“You are so fucking hot,” he whispered, pressing more kisses to the back of her neck. His hips moved slowly, his cock stroking along the oiled cleft of her ass. “Such a gorgeous ass. I want to fuck it. But touching you has me so primed I don’t have the patience to do things right. I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Then do it,” she rasped.

He raised his hips and positioned his cock at her entrance, then pushed inside her, her copious wetness easing his passage. They both groaned audibly as he filled and stretched her.

“You feel so good,” he murmured as he bottomed out. “Last night was hard and fast. Today, I’m going to make you beg for release.”

She whimpered—she was not a whimperer—and lifted to take him deeper.

He began to stroke. Long, slow, punishing strokes that had her biting her lip to keep from crying out. With each one, he nudged and raked over her special spot, building the pressure inside her, keeping her climax just out of reach. Her resolve melted and, before long, she was panting and doing exactly as he had said.

“Please,” she bit out.

“Please what?” he asked, though she was pleased to hear his voice sounded strained and breathless, too.

“Please make me come.”

“That’s my girl,” he praised.

His strokes became harder and faster, meeting the demands she was now crying out. Within seconds, she was tightening around him and he was grunting out his release.

He paused for a few moments to catch his breath, kissed her shoulder, then got off the table.

She turned around and sat up, watching as he tied off the condom and tossed it into a waste container.

When he looked up and found her watching, he grinned. “We meet again.”

His smile was sexy and boyish at the same time. Kayla ignored the way her heart stuttered—surely it was just a result of the screaming orgasm she had just had—and smiled back.

“So we do. Are you going to run away again, or are you going to stay and play a while?”

It was a challenge, one she hoped he would accept.

Kayla let her gaze drop down to his impressive package and licked her lips before meeting his eyes again. They glowed with the same fire she felt burning in her core.

“Play,” he answered, his voice low and heavy with wicked promise. “Definitely play.”