From Ex to Eternity(22)

Well, because it didn’t work that way, obviously. Either it could be tender and meaningful or it could be a smoking-hot fling. And honestly, it hadn’t been all that tender the first time around, when she’d thought they were in love.

“As much as I enjoyed the floor, I’m a little carpet burned,” Keith murmured and stroked her hair. “Shall we move to the bed?”

Cheek to his pectoral muscle, she listened to his heart rate slow. Did that mean he was good and rested already? “I’ve got another round in me.”

He groaned and it was not one of anticipation. “Dawn is going to come much sooner than I’d like and I’m afraid storm cleanup is going to be brutal. What if we just go to sleep?”

Sleep? Here? That was the opposite of a good idea. As if doused by a bucket of cold water, sense returned to her brain. Rolling off Keith carefully, she scouted around for her dress, found it and yanked it over her head without taking the extra time to don her bra and panties.

“I, ah...think I’ll head back to my room.”

Still naked and apparently not interested in fixing that, Keith sat up, muscles bunching and flexing. Dang it if he wasn’t the sexiest male on the planet, with or without clothes. Why was she leaving again?

“Your room doesn’t have an air conditioner,” he reminded her. “Stay. I’d like to see your face in the morning.”

Oh yeah. That was why. “No, it’s better we keep this expectation free. Sleepovers are like the gateway. It starts feeling like we’re a couple again and neither of us has the luxury of that.”

Wincing at her catty tone, she gathered all her things and headed for the door before he could say anything. “Thanks, Mitchell. That was amazing. See you tomorrow.”

The storm nearly blew her sideways, dousing her instantly. As she dashed through the rain to the other tower—because in her panic she’d fled without her umbrella—she had to admit that part of her wished they did have the luxury of more and it was something they both wanted.

They’d tried a just-starting-to-date relationship. They’d tried being an engaged couple. They’d tried hot, no holds barred and no strings.

And against all good reason, she wanted to know what it would be like with Keith if they were in love. If birth control wasn’t so critical... But it was critical, because she couldn’t trust him with anything other than her body. It didn’t matter if he cared about her or had other interests besides sex, because she couldn’t let him hurt her again.

She sighed as she mounted the stairs to her room, dripping water and despondency all over the place. Maybe no strings got easier. She’d have to try harder to not care that Keith’s expression had resembled granite when he’d watched her leave.

Cara Chandler-Harris Designs would never walk out on her, never disappoint her. What did she need with a man long-term anyway?

* * *

Keith let Cara go and spent the night watching the weather radar on an endless loop. It mirrored the chaos in his head perfectly.

Too restless to sleep, he prowled around the suite looking for something to punch, because he feared that was the only way he’d expel the black mood he’d fallen into when Cara had waltzed out the door.

It was for the best. She was absolutely right. They weren’t in a relationship. Sleepovers weren’t a good idea. When the storm passed, Keith would be overloaded with revised expo plans and Cara would be in the way. She knew that, had made herself scarce, and he should completely respect and appreciate it.

But all he could think about was how he’d yearned to slide into sleep with her sated body nestled against his, breathing in sync.

Disgusted and furious for no reason, he took a long shower and forced himself to crawl into bed, where he listened to the wind howl and caught snatches of shut-eye, only to bolt awake because he’d dreamed Cara had come back, blubbering apologies and begging him to let her stay. But it was only the crack of branches outside or the tap of rain against the window that, in his delirium, he’d mistaken for her.

Dawn brought with it an even blacker mood.

Overnight, the storm whirled out into the interior of the Caribbean to wreak havoc with Cuba and Grand Cayman. The resort hadn’t lost power, which Regent executives would be quite pleased to note since Keith had insisted on installing top-of-the-line generators and storm-proof wiring.

But the pool resembled tree limb soup with a generous garnish of dirt and leaves. The permanent wedding gazebo was gone—the storm had even ripped away the concrete moorings, then filled the holes with sand. A new one would have to be ordered and reanchored, but obviously better and differently.

The door to the sports equipment shed hung drunkenly from one hinge and the floor sat underneath two inches of water. Fortunately, the kayaks, surfboards and other gear seemed no worse for wear. They were supposed to get wet, after all.

The outdoor bar was weatherproof, or it was supposed to be. Scrapes marred the surface as if the wind had dragged tree limbs across it. The bar would have to be refinished, and the list went on and on. Alice scurried after him as he barked out orders and observations. Eventually, they organized resources and the challenges began to look a little more doable.

Sometime around midmorning, Keith holed up in his office to respond to email. Coffee and a solid plan had improved his mood. When Cara knocked on the open door, he even managed a smile.

“Got a minute?” she asked and leaned on the doorjamb.

He nodded and let the image of Cara’s naked body astride his flash through his mind because he wanted to and because it was still powerful. What had started out as a method to make sure she had an amazing experience had somehow morphed into the best sex of his life.

“What’s up?” He cleared his throat, though it was pretty useless since the huskiness in his voice was due to the raging erection he’d just given himself with a simple memory.

“I was curious about the expo. What are the plans?”

Dry Cara wasn’t any less sexy and alluring than a wet Cara. She appeared well rested, as if sleep had come easily to her, and today’s dress hugged the curves he’d eagerly reacquainted himself with last night.

“The airport is scheduled to reopen tomorrow morning. So we’ll go on, albeit late.” He sat back in his chair and wished they could have had this conversation over breakfast. Because she’d stayed with him overnight. Pathetic. Why was he torturing himself with fanciful scenarios? “I’m sending out the revised schedule to all the expo guests and vendors now. You’re on the email distribution list.”

“The resort doesn’t seem too worse for wear. Have you got a good handle on the cleanup?”

He shrugged. “Elena’s got it. She’s corralling the groundskeepers as we speak and we’ll have to adjust a few of the events. But we’ve got a promising start.”

“That’s good to hear.” Cara flowed across the threshold and shut the door behind her with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Hope you’ll pardon the interruption then.”

Before he could get a word in edgewise, she rounded the desk and climbed into his lap.

Hungrily, she fused her lips to his and kissed him openmouthed, tongue sliding against his. Rough and wild, she savored him and he groaned under her commanding offensive.

His body instantly responded, spreading heat and fire outward from his already primed erection to encompass every organ. Her fingers worked his buttons clumsily until she apparently gave up and ripped the fabric wide to slide her hands along his torso, around the sides and up his back. Everything she touched leaped under her palms, crackling with energy.

Then she dipped into his pants to curve his shaft into her fisted hand. He pulsed and nearly lost complete control.

“Wait,” he bit out. “I...wasn’t expecting you and—”

“It’s okay.” She pulled a wrapped condom from inside her bra. “A gift from Meredith.”

Breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding whooshed out. Thankfully, Cara got the necessity of being careful. No ties this time. “I really, really like your sister.”

Cara grinned. “I’ll tell her you said so. Later. I want you to take me right here on your desk. Now,” she commanded.

Sweeter words had never been spoken. Quickly, he stood with Cara in his arms and situated her on the desk, thighs spread wide. He stepped between them and yanked her dress and bra down in one motion. Her gorgeous breasts spilled free and he shoved one between his teeth.

She thrust against his mouth, moaning, and he shut his eyes at the perfection of her taste.

“I want you naked,” she rasped, and her lithe fingers undid his pants, dropping them to the floor. Her hand closed around him for the second time but nothing hindered her movement, and his breath hitched as she stroked him.

This hot little morning quickie was about to be very over if she kept doing that.

To distract her, he stripped off her dress and threw it...somewhere and then she was spread out on his desk wearing nothing at all, so achingly beautiful it hurt his chest to look at her.

I need you. Right now. Later. Tomorrow. Maybe longer than that.

His fingers shook as he rolled on the condom. From need. From emotions he couldn’t name. From the sheer desire this woman evoked. He bent one of her legs to open her farther but she smiled wickedly and shook her head.