Page 34 of Wrecked With You

This time I’m more enthusiastic with the cream. I put a thick layer on my clit that will undoubtedly require a significant amount of licking to get it off. Then I trail it up my belly and dab it on my breasts and beside both ears, giving him a way to whisper to me without being obvious. I’m hoping he had a chance to whisper to Amy—and I want to know what she whispered back.

My knees are up when Tony approaches, and he puts his hands on them as he kneels between my legs, gently pushing them apart. Because of all the cream, I’m less exposed to him than I was to the others, and yet this feels the most intimate of all. It’s because I want it. Want him.

And I know that I should be concerned about the information he may have gathered from Amy, but right now all I want is for him to bend over and have his dessert.

Fortunately for me, he seems to want it too. He holds my legs apart, and I feel the stretching in my thighs as he bends forward, his breath hot on my skin, as hot as the sun that’s beating down on us.

The whipped cream is getting melty, and as he licks it up, I squirm under his touch, wanting more. And when he slides two fingers into me, the first of the group to have been so bold, I arch up and gasp and bite my lip to keep from begging him to do even more than that.

He continues to lick me clean, holding my hips to keep me from squirming. Then he slides his body up, sucking the cream off both my breasts before letting his weight bear down on me, his erection pressing against me as his mouth trails over my cheek to lick up the extra cream by my ear.

“It’s not her,” he whispers. “I told her my name, got no reaction. I mentioned snakes, don’t even ask me how. Again, I got no reaction. Unless she thinks we’re being watched, and is being cautious, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s not her.”

“Yes.” I add a moan to my voice and hope that he realizes I’m responding to his comment, and not to any particular thing that he’s doing to me at the moment.

Although to be honest, my body is responding to what he’s doing, which happens to be not much of anything. I’m simply hot, tight, and needy all because of his proximity.

Mentally, I curse. I need to stop this. I need to get my focus back. My edge. I have a reputation in this industry, and it’s not the reputation of a little girl who goes to jelly when the cute boy kisses her.

“Your turn,” Tony says, and it takes me a second to realize that it is my turn to stand and be the aggressor. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I trust Tony’s judgment. Amy is not our girl, and I don’t want my mouth on Beth or Clara or Amy. I don’t want to be intimate with Scott or Roy. I want to find The-Asst, and I want Tony.

Base needs, maybe, but I justify my desire by saying to myself that it’s practical. Why waste time on finding a witness when I know damn well there is no witness in this pool of people.

So instead of going to the line, I hold on to Tony’s hand before he can lay down on the mat. “Sugar pie, I forgot we signed up for that session in the dungeon.” I flash an apologetic smile. “We can’t stay any longer.”

He looks at me, baffled, and then I see the dawn of understanding on his face.

“I’d completely forgotten.” He turns to everybody. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to meet all of you,” he says, his gaze lingering on those of us who had been on the ground. “I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

He leads me away even before giving them a chance to respond, and we walk quickly down the path. Wouldn’t want to be late to the dungeon, after all.

“Are we finding Tracy Ann next?” I ask.

“Not just yet,” he says, steering us onto the path that leads to our cabana. For the first time, I notice that he grabbed one of the whipped cream canisters off the table. “First,” he says, “I think you need a snack.”

Chapter Eleven

“Well, we knew it probably wasn’t Amy,” I say, as I lay on top of him, our bodies sticky from whipped cream residue. I’d licked off every bit of cream he’d put on himself, and then I added a few more squirts and had a second helping.

We’d fallen asleep, then awakened hours later for a repeat performance. Now both our bodies and the bedsheets are sticky, and I really couldn’t care less.

“Tracy Ann does make the most sense,” Tony says. His eyes are closed, but he opens them now and smiles at me, his expression full of sensual satisfaction. “The trouble is we haven’t found her yet.”

“At least we know she’s here. She was in her room, right? Let’s go ask Mindy if she’ll give us the room number.”

He groans in protest, then takes my shoulders as he rolls us both over. He ends up on top of me, his hands on either side of my shoulders as he lowers himself to kiss me. The kind of kiss that’s slow and deep and very possessive. The kind of kiss I’ve shied away from with past lovers, wanting to keep things light. With Tony, though, I want more, and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close, wanting this kiss to never end.

When it finally, inevitably, does, we’re both breathing hard. He shifts his weight so that one leg stays hooked over mine as he props himself up on an elbow beside me. “As much as I want to stay right here, I think you’re right.”

He’s fried my brain enough that I have to scroll back in the conversation to figure out what I could be right about. “Oh. You mean about Tracy Ann. The problem with that plan is that we actually have to go find Mindy, and that means getting out of bed.”

“And getting dressed.”

I pretend to consider that. “Actually, I don’t think that we do. But I’m going to opt for clothing just the same.”

He grins, then pulls me out of bed and into the shower. Which, of course, means it takes us another forty-five minutes to get out of the cabana after one thing leads to another. But, hey—that’s the theme of the island, after all.

We’re both in shorts and T-shirts as we walk down the path toward the main building. It’s past seven now, and the plan is to grab a light dinner from one of the outdoor takeaway stands, then find Mindy. I’ll tell her that we had a terrific time with the dessert game. A surprisingly true statement, especially if you only consider the round of the game played in our room.