Ten

Claudia

 

 

 

Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness.

I rushed down the wooden stairs to the sea, burning like I’d been set on fire.

Everything inside me screamed at me to turn back, to go to him.

I couldn’t. No way in God’s green Earth was I going back to face Liam, not after he’d just totally caught me watching him get himself off.

My cheeks were hot, my whole body was. The shame and embarrassment of being caught watching him—heck watching him in the first place was embarrassing and shameful.

At first, when I’d stepped out onto the patio, I had gone looking for him, assuming he’d be in the kitchen. But when he wasn’t there, I walked outside to get a better view of the pool and the ocean. The last thing I’d expected to see when I turned around was the shadow of his body in the shower encased behind a glass wall but fully visible to me. Cloudy from water drops from the shower, I could still make out the darkened ink on his arms and when that arm began moving, my feet had cemented themselves to the patio, my eyes frozen on his body.

His hand. Moving. Jerking. Head bowed. Hips thrusting.

It’d taken me approximately two seconds to realize what he was doing. I was so lost in rapture watching him I hadn’t even realized he was watching me.

God, he was beautiful. Muscled everywhere, and I’d just seen most of them moving.

But I shouldn’t have watched.

You also shouldn’t have liked it so much.

Worse, he’d caught me. And just like I did in Savannah when caught and embarrassed, I did the first thing I could think of.

I ran.

On the beach, I continued running from his home, along the shore, my bare feet burned from the hot, white sand until I walked closer to where sea washed to shore. With my feet sinking into wet sand, I slowed to a walk and kept moving.

I wouldn’t go far. But I couldn’t stay and I couldn’t sit there waiting for him.

Oh God. How humiliating. I dropped my face into my hands and then pushed my hands back, gathering my hair into a fist at my neck. Barely long enough to pull into a ponytail I hadn’t even considered putting it up when I left the house.

My swimsuit cover dress continued flying up to my thighs and hips but I had the most conservative bikini on I could find beneath it.

And conservative was a stretch. A few triangles and strings in a navy and pink striped pattern, it barely covered my breasts yet everything in the closet was my size.

I’d been shocked before I remembered having to give my measurements to Karen.

It figured a man like Liam would have minions able to purchase an entire wardrobe for me and deliver it to the Caribbean in a day’s time.

God.

How was I going to face him again? Perhaps now I could tell him the truth. He’d be pissed, we could part ways, and he could find a new girl to sweeten up his public image. It certainly wasn’t going to be me.

I was going to sully him further.

Keeping my eyes on the teal, crystal-clear waters, I stayed on the edge of the shore, kicking the water and letting my feet sink into the mud.

It didn’t matter what I did, how much time I wasted. My thoughts continued drifting to Liam.

His body. His hand sliding. The bend of his arm that couldn’t disguise what he was doing. All that ink on his arms. His chest…and a completely bare back.

Closing my eyes, I huffed out a deep breath. I’d apologize. I’d get through the embarrassment, probably the teasing he’d dish out, and we’d move on.

By tomorrow, I should be on a plane back to New York, back at Karen’s assistant desk, and this whole ridiculous idea would be over.

Or you could stay and let that delicious man take you places you’ve only dreamed of.

“Or I could be an idiot and talk to myself,” I muttered to the water.

I wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted someone to relieve me of my V-status, but did I want it with a man who’d been with an untold number of women?

No.

Yes.

I could lie to myself but my body was showing how much it disagreed.

As I’d watched him, my physical response had been as obvious as what he was doing. My core had throbbed, clenched with excitement. My skin flushed. I could blame the embarrassment on the hot sensation singeing my blood.

Embarrassment and shame didn’t explain why my nipples were still hard. Still tingling.

Darn it.

Heaving another breath, I turned, intent on heading back to his house, to the difficult conversation awaiting me, and stopped short.

He was there.

Sitting on the bottom wood step that led to his patio and his beautiful house, the perfect mixture of beauty and Caribbean. A little bit Spanish-styled, a whole lot of perfect. I’d miss it.

I told myself I wouldn’t miss the man sitting on his ass, legs spread wide and bent. Feet buried in the hot sand and his forearms on his knees, hands dangling between them.

His gaze on me, even though his eyes were hidden beneath mirrored sunglasses, he had his head turned in my direction, watching me take slow, painful steps back toward him.

Good grief. What was I supposed to say to him? I like your shower? Great view?

If I was sassier, raised in a way that allowed me to speak my mind and not hide everything behind the perfect facade, I probably could.

“You hungry? I have prawns marinating and the rest of dinner prepared.”

He cooked. And heaven help me, but the idea of seeing him in a kitchen or working a grill was sexy.

I eyed him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to give me a hard time?”

A smirk twisted his lips and he rubbed his hands together. Oh God, the entendre.

“Do you want me to give you a hard time?”

I flushed from my roots to my toes. Shaking his head, his mop of thick black hair swished back and forth.

“No.” 

“I think I’ll give you a pass. You look either ready to flee or puke.”

“I’m not going to puke.”

Two brows rose above his frames. “But you are going to flee?”

It was now or never. Before whatever this was went any further, he had the right to know. “Why don’t we continue this inside?”

I stayed still under his silent inspection. I couldn’t see his eyes. But feel them? They touched every part of my exposed skin and some hidden ones.

“We’ll see.” Swinging out his arm, he gestured for me to lead the way. I stepped toward the stairs but he stopped me when I placed a hand on the railing. “I was trying to let it go. Planned on it.”

Oh…I felt that ‘but’ coming before he spoke it.

“But I gotta tell you, sweetheart. I really fuckin’ like that you saw me doing what I was doing earlier, especially since I was thinking of you while I was doing it.”

I gasped. I’d been mid-step as he spoke and I missed the step completely, wobbling as I gained my firm footing.

Who was I kidding? I wasn’t on firm anything. I was sinking.

In Liam.

I refused to show it.

Behind me, a soft chuckle fell over me, and I straightened my shoulders and spine.

“We need to talk.”

“Sure. As long as you realize for the next year you’re mine and nothing you’ll say will change that, I’m all for talking.”

I headed up the stairs, pretending I couldn’t feel his eyes glued to my backside the entire way.