Free The Honeymoon Trap by Kelly Hunter Page B

breast. ‘If I show you what I want will you give it to me?’ she asked while her heart started racing again.
    ‘I might.’
    Up went her hands, even as Eli’s larger ones replaced where hers had once been, caressing silky soft and fragrant suds into her skin. Her own hands at her breasts now and her eyes closed and her head thrown back as she gave herself over to sensation. She heard Eli’s swiftly indrawn breath but his hands didn’t go up, as expected, they went down, sliding over the sides of her bikini bottoms, effortlessly unhooking the little bars that held it together.
    Damn but she liked a man with initiative.
    That little scrap of blue hit the floor too, and there was sand, yes there was, and Eli reaching forward again for the hand-held shower rose, the one attached to a snaky silver hose that could go anywhere. He angled it so that the water still sprayed downwards and set to washing the suds from her stomach and the sand from the cut of her thighs. He circled ever closer to the vee between her legs but he never quite lingered, never found his way into the nitty gritty of things.
    ‘I think you missed a spot.’ The teasing was becoming unbearable, ratcheting her higher with every teasing spray.
    ‘Where?’
    But he knew where. ‘C’mon, Eli. Please .’
    His lips were at her ear, his tongue flicking at her lobe, warm and pointed, as if he knew exactly where she wanted that tongue of his and what she wanted it to do. He probably did.
    ‘Can you come from water on you in just the right place?’ he murmured and she whimpered.
    She didn’t know.
    And then he got down to business, taking the bulk of her weight, his arm a steel band about her waist, barely letting her move as he parted her legs, applied water and brought her to swift and screaming completion.
    Guess the answer was yes.

Chapter Nine
    H e’d never been with anyone so openly responsive. Not ever. He shouldn’t compare, didn’t want to compare, but his brain was busy conjuring up other times and places and not once had a woman reacted like this. Not anyone. Not even Simone. Zoey’s eyes were glassy green orbs, half drowned by wet lashes, real lashes, and they were long enough and curling enough that he wondered why she ever felt the need to add more. An aftershock ran through her sleek, slick body, and her eyes fluttered closed again.
    ‘I’ll get to you, I will,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t mean to fade on you. I’m all inspired and I have so many ideas. Just give me a minute.’
    She looked as if she could use a solid eight hours. ‘How about you save those ideas for another time?’
    ‘Not how it works.’
    ‘How ‘bout if I tell you I came approximately two seconds after you did?’
    ‘Did you?’
    ‘You could always stick your hand in my shorts and find out.’
    She did. Her lips curved lazily. ‘Well, hello.’
    And then she lifted her hand to her mouth, licked a stripe across her finger and tasted him and it was his turn to unload a curse.
    Her smile widened. ‘Are you hungry? I’m hungry. So I’m just going to let you finish rinsing off while I get all dry and go and lie on your bed and order room service. Does that sound like a good plan?’
    ‘There should probably be clothes involved.’
    ‘Words to live by, my friend.’ She got out of the tub, wrapped herself up in a fresh towel, scooped up the tiny scraps of blue bikini and dumped them in one of the hand basins. She rinsed them, hung them over a towel rail and headed for one of the suitcases that seemed to live in the bathroom permanently. A few moments later she slipped her gauzy white cotton beach shift over her head and headed for his bed.
    She didn’t seem to feel the need for panties, he noticed.
    Well, then.
    He showered thoroughly – damn right he knew he had an appreciative audience. He took his time finding boxers – yeah, he wanted something soft between his junk and his jeans and then he found an old grey cotton shirt that was thin to falling