Free Crave by Sierra Cartwright Page A

last two years. Sarah Lovett had become a sex kitten. Would he survive it? The image of her on her knees, intent on his pleasure, made him throb. “That can be arranged. Let’s go.”
    He released his hold on her. The brat stroked his cock another couple of times. “Be careful of disobeying me,” he warned.
    “Of course, Sir.”
    Sarah had chosen the right response, but the lightness in her tone had robbed the words of their genuineness.
    “I’m warning you.”
    “I heard you, Sir,” she reassured him.
    He followed her from the sea and, on shore, picked up her dress and helped her into it, not an easy feat with her body being wet.
    “I seem to be having difficulty keeping my clothes on around you.”
    He tucked her bra into his jacket pocket.
    “Am I going to get my lingerie back?”
    “I wouldn’t count on it,” he replied. He shook the sand from his jacket then draped it around her shoulders.
    “Thank you.”
    Reece liked to look at her, but suddenly he didn’t want other men ogling her. After shucking water from his legs, he pulled on his trousers.
    “You were commando?” she asked. “In those pants?”
    “I’m not a fan of underwear for either of us,” he replied.
    “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”
    The way his cock was still responding made him glad that she hadn’t noticed.
    As he’d finished dressing, she scooped up her sandals and carried them by the straps.
    When they neared the resort, he said, “Wait a minute.” He picked a bright pink bloom and tucked it behind her ear, into her damp hair.
    “Hibiscus,” she said. “One of my favorites.”
    “Lucky guess.” He didn’t know a dandelion from a daffodil and didn’t much care to learn. That was why florists existed.
    “Thank you. For that, as well as the swim,” she said.
    “Wondering what other surprises you have in store for me,” he replied.
    They stopped again so she could rinse off her feet at the outdoor shower, and he offered an arm for support as she slipped her shoes back on.
    Inside the resort, the lobby was loud and bustling. Air-conditioning blasted them, chilling his still-damp skin. Bottles of champagne were being passed around, sans glasses. In an alcove, a string quartet appeared to be playing. Since he couldn’t hear anything over all of Julien’s friends and acquaintances, it was difficult to say. “Need anything before we head up?”
    “McRae!”
    Recognizing the voice above the droning noise, he held up his hand to signal Sarah to stop.
    “Someone you know?” she asked.
    “College buddy. Went to school together until his mommy and daddy shipped him off to Massachusetts and away from our questionable friendship and morals. As you see, questionable morals trump family expectations.”
    “Is that Kennedy Aldrich?” She looked at one of his oldest friends then back to him. “Wait. You know Kennedy Aldrich?”
    “Have I finally impressed you?”
    “In a big way. First Julien, then Kennedy Aldrich?”
    “I’m only impressing you because of my friends?”
    “We’re talking about Kennedy Aldrich, Reece,” she said, as if that explained everything.
    “He’s a normal guy.” Could drink with the best of them, cheat on a test or two, drive too fast, don a disguise to dodge the paparazzi, wield a whip, complete a deal on the golf course and still go on a morning talk show.
    “Who’s this?” Kennedy asked by way of greeting.
    “Nice to see you, too, Aldrich,” Reece said.
    The way Kennedy ignored him and honed in on Sarah pissed Reece off, just a little.
    She extended her hand, returning the man’s smile. “Sarah Lovett.”
    “Sarah Lovett? The Sarah Lovett?” Friendly expression gone, Kennedy looked at Reece. “Do we need a bottle of Scotch?”
    “Did I miss something?” she asked.
    Kennedy took her hand. “Man went through a fortune of my best stuff when you vanished, Ms Lovett.”
    “Does everyone know?” she asked Reece. Her tone held a combination of apology and horror.
    “That you