She wasn’t working on him too hard right now but he could feel himself approaching the edge. The ground was hurtling toward him faster and faster, the moment of impact closer and closer. Gently he drew her off him. Her lips were swollen, eyes glassy with pleasure, skin radiating heat.

“Too close,” he panted, and she grinned with a look that he knew poor Danny had never seen. That pure, unadulterated desire that said there was no thinking, no judging, no rationalizing, no doubt. Just desire and need, and no chance for walking away.

“Come for me,” she urged, stroking his cock.

“I want you to feel it, too,” he said, not wanting to hog all the morning’s delight.

She shook her head. “You have to give me a rest.”

Again the memories of her shattering orgasms last night, one after another. Her teeth on his shoulder when he held himself up on top of her. Her hands digging into his hair.

“I can’t believe there isn’t some part of you still ready to go.”

He saw her blush and knew he was right. He lifted her up and flipped her so she was lying on her back in a sea of pillows, naked legs spread before him. She hooked her heels around his thighs and pulled him toward her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he smothered her with his weight. He was rock hard and the taste of her lips only made him feel further out to sea, rolling about in a tangle of sheets, completely unmoored.

He worked his lips down her body, over her neck and to each breast, tickling down her side, across her belly, into the divots of each hip. Between her thighs, over her knees, down to the tips of each toe. Had he ever adored a woman like this? Slowly, taking his time, knowing he had all day. All night. As long as he wanted—until four p.m. the next day, when a bus and then a plane would take her away.

He had to get in as much of her as he could. There could be no chance for regrets.

When he kissed his way back up her thighs, her legs parted, trembling in anticipation of his tongue. He ran his mouth over her and started sucking her delicate clit. A moan escaped from her lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he panted. The view when he looked up at her was stunning, especially when she raised her head to look down at him, locking his gaze over her breasts.

“I want to come,” she said breathlessly, her words and the sureness with which she said them making his cock strain against the mattress where his hips were pressed. She had been so shy before, as though it was wrong to take what she wanted. He hoped he had given her a gift she could always use.

But would she be this way with another man? The thought made him cringe, and then a ferociousness rose in him.

She might, but it would always have been the first with him.

She seemed to be awaiting his instructions, forward yet obedient all at once. And so he gave her what she wanted, which was to be his.

“Touch yourself,” he said, reaching for her hand to draw it between her legs. “Touch yourself for me.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed playfully. “That’s what you want?”

“I want to see you make yourself come.”

He thought she’d protest, but a shy smile curled across her lips. She began circling her clit with two fingers, moving right where she liked it. She saw him looking and spread her legs wider so that he could see the pink of her lips where her fingers slipped in.

Two red spots blossomed in her cheeks, her breath quickening with every touch. Her hips shifted beneath him, rolling to the rhythm she had made. He grabbed his cock in his fist.

“I’m going to come when you come,” he whispered, pumping harder now, his hand keeping time with hers, the two of them trying to come and yet trying to hold off, too.

She let out a whimper, caught her breath, and then another moan escaped her lips. “I’m getting closer,” she said as though it pained her, a wincing sort of pleasure searing through her the more she touched.

He leaned forward on his left arm so his body was arched over her, his right arm pulling furiously as he brushed the tip of his cock to her stomach.

“Let go,” he whispered soothingly. “Let it go.”

She pinched her eyes shut as the first waves tore through her. He knew she was coming by the way her breathing deepened, her panting turned to wails, her cheeks bloomed, and her hand jerked furiously across her clit drawing out the sensation. When he knew she was at the height of her pleasure, he released. Cum spurted across her stomach, over her nipples, between her breasts. He worked his shaft, drawing it out, shuddering over her body as she gasped with her own aftershocks and the warmth on her skin. The way it felt when he looked at her, really looked at her… He leaned down and kissed her forehead, her ear, her cheek.

“Shower?” he finally whispered.

“That was hot,” she whispered back.

“Now what do you want to do today?” He pretended to bite her nose.

“Something fun.”

“I’m sorry but there’s really no way I can go another round right now.”

She laughed. “I meant something else fun.”

“Such as?”

She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of bed, heading straight to the bathroom.

“I want to do something I’ve never done before,” she called from behind the shower curtain, through the steam and spray of water as Blake hung the towels by the bathtub for when they got out.

When he stepped in, the water was blissfully hot and her hair thick and wet down her back.

“Something new?” he verified as he reached for the soap and lathered it over her body.

“Something I haven’t done before. Something I might never do again. You know, something that says last day in Rio!” She laughed and rested her cheek between his shoulder blades as she washed his back. “Something I’ll remember when I’m home.”

Home. That one little word. How could it hit him so hard?

She sounded like she’d be ready to go back. But despite all he had planned, the itinerary he’d pieced together to account for every minute, every mile, every piece of his once-shattered heart, he suddenly had no idea what he would do when he said good-bye and put her on that plane.

But she was looking up at him expectantly, holding her palm out for the shampoo, and he knew this wasn’t the time to ask about what “home” meant for the two of them.

“I think I know just the thing,” he said, trying to sound happy despite the heaviness that had settled in his chest.

“What is it?” she asked, eyes wide, but he shook his head.

“It’s a secret.”

“Damn,” she pouted, and turned to rinse her hair. “I hope it involves breakfast, I’m starving.”

“Find a café, and then coconuts?”

“Perfect,” she agreed.

He rushed out of the bathroom to check the address in her guidebook before she had a chance to come out, naked with her hair wrapped up in a towel, wheedling him for hints.

“Secrets,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled the towel from her hair and wrapped it around her body, holding them close.

It seemed impossible to leave the hotel room when every step she took toward putting her clothes on made him want to take them off again. But the sun was bright through the curtain, and Blake couldn’t wait to execute the new plan that he had up his sleeve.

Chapter Sixteen

They had finished a breakfast of pancakes with fresh berries, coffee, and a sweet, tart pink juice from the small acerola fruit, and the promised coconut while strolling along the beach, when Blake hailed a cab and gave directions to a part of the city Julia had never heard of.

“Oh, are you going to—” the driver said excitedly, but Blake cut him off before he could finish.

“Shhh,” Blake silenced him, pointing toward Julia. “It’s a secret.”