Island Pleasures(13)

He pressed the pad of his finger over her mouth. “It’s over. You didn’t do any damage. I should be the one apologizing for how I treated you.”

Her eyes widened and she thrust him away. “If you say you’re sorry for almost screwing me on your boss’s desk, I’ll kick you. I enjoyed everything we did up to the moment we got caught.”

“I did also. I never had it so—”

“Raw, hot, and steamy?” She lifted up on her toes, and he dipped down to kiss her, only to be interrupted by a loud cough.

“Raw, hot and steamy?” Woody emerged from the doorway. “Sounds like your swapping recipes on how to boil lobsters. I hate to break the mood, but I’m starving. What do you say to some eats and more drinks?”

“Sounds great,” he whispered, giving Carly a soft peck. Before he could increase the pressure of the kiss, she broke away, and with a wink, swayed toward the other man.

Woody whistled low when she passed him. He grinned and lightly tapped her on the ass.

Quinn ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled. For tonight he would pretend as if everything was right with the world and enjoy hanging out with a good friend and the woman who still owned his heart after all this time.





Chapter Seven





She doubled over laughing as Woody finished telling another story about he and Quinn getting into trouble the first week they were on Grand Turk. They’d ended up naked and hiding behind sand dunes while the beach patrol searched for them.

“I can’t believe you did that many tequila shots and then took off all your clothes on a dare,” she said to Quinn in disbelief. He sat in the corner of the couch on her left while Woody occupied her right. He smiled shyly. She thought he was adorable and tweaked his nose.

Quinn linked their fingers together and drew her close. She sighed, welcoming his embrace. After a great meal and more shared drinks, they had fallen back into the comfortable way they used to have in college.

“It took an island paradise to turn you into a drunken frat boy?” She finished the last of her sangria.

He took her glass and chewed on the leftover ice. When she grabbed for it, he lifted it high in the air, his grin taunting. “How else could I recover from my broken heart?”

“Did I really break your heart?” she asked, slightly shaken up by his declaration.

Before he could answer, Woody nudged her hip. “Why not put your legs on my lap? I’ll give you the world famous Woodster foot massage.”

She arched a brow at Quinn. He shrugged. Taking that as a yes, she plopped her feet on Woody’s lap. When he dug his thumb into the arch of her foot, she moaned in delight.

“She likes it.” Quinn pushed aside her hair and stroked the side of her throat where her hickey was. She trembled at the soft touch and from Woody who was doing incredible things to her toes.

“I haven’t had a complaint yet,” he said, rotating her ankles.

“Why would I complain? I have two hot men treating me like a princess.” She settled deeper in Quinn’s arms.

“If you moved here, you could have us at your beck and call every day.” Woody ran his hands up and down her calves.

She blinked at him. “I have responsibilities. I can’t just up and leave because of an amazing massage.”

Quinn snorted. “Responsibilities? Working for a gossip rag? You should write for a more respectable publication. You deserve better than Chit-Chat Weekly.” He dropped his arm around her torso. His thumb roamed against her side, dangerously close to her breast.

She bit her lip to stop from moaning. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t act this way with Woody around. What could he be thinking?

Woody squeezed the back of her calf. She did moan then.

“Many women have complimented me on my massages and other types of ministrations in the past.” Woody wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah…and? What are you implying?” she asked, trying not to fidget as his caresses inched up higher.

“Maybe you’d be interested in creating a memory with us to take back to Vegas.”

“What type of memory?” She wasn’t sure what to make of the change in conversation. The way Woody stared at her made her think he wanted something of a sexual manner.

“You, me, and Quinn could spend the night together in my bed,” Woody announced, and she drew back her legs, ready to kick him.

“You’re not serious. That’s absurd.” He had to be teasing her. He couldn’t think she—

“You’d be amazed by how many female guests want to try something different in the bedroom because they think anything goes here. The stories I could tell you would make your ears bleed. Or perhaps make you come,” Quinn whispered and kissed her cheek.