She squeezed the fabric. Holy. Wow. This was going to be good. He lifted her legs, placing them on his shoulders.
"I think you're going to be a champion at this," she breathed, the whole world coming to a standstill around her.
He inhaled harshly as he got his first glimpse of what she'd been hiding underneath her dress. Because yeah, she was definitely wearing date-night panties. The silky thong was fire-engine red.
"Surprise," she whispered. His head brushed her thigh, close enough that she could smell the scent of cinnamon and something tropical. He always smelled faintly of whatever he'd been cooking in that kitchen of his and, God help her, she loved cinnamon.
His lips moved up her thigh, his hands gently gripping her thighs.
"Relax," he said. "I won't let you fall."
Off the tree maybe, but who was going to stop her from falling for him? The necklace was inches from where she ached for him, but it might be too close to her heart, too.
He glanced up, as if he'd read her mind, his cheek resting on her bare thigh. The rough, sexy prickle of his stubble on her sensitive skin drove her crazy, but then he smiled at her, slow and sweet, and his words heated her up almost as much as his touch. Which was saying something, because just the small, soft stroke of his fingertips playing with the necklace had her melting.
"You're going to have to trust me, Maddie," he said. And waited.
Waited for her to decide, because he had to be the most patient man she'd ever met. Shoot. Were those tears prickling at her eyes? This was supposed to be a sexy game and...she was all in. She cupped his face in her hands.
"Okay. But just so we're clear? You let me fall and I kill you. And I get Ashley to help me. That girl has moves."
"So do I." He grinned at her once more before turning his face against her skin and licking her. Just a small touch, his tongue easing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh in a sensual glide that had her sucking in a breath and tightening her grip on his shoulders. Her skirt billowed around his head and shoulders and there was no mistaking this for anything other than what it was. Sex on the beach. Just like the menu had promised.
He sucked on the tender skin and she groaned, hearing the telltale pop as the first candy bead on the necklace came free.
"They make panties like this." She was babbling, coming apart in a happy puddle of goo. She couldn't see his face, but, oh, God, she could feel him. Feel his tongue exploring her skin, his breath on her mound as he moved his head higher, the stubble on his jaw rasping against her.
He paused. "I'll add that to my shopping list."
So would she. His tongue made another foray, sweeping underneath the necklace and teasing higher. And it felt so good, so very, very good. Each new touch left her hotter and more shivery, impossibly aware of Mason. He exhaled and she felt it, right there where he wasn't touching yet but where he was headed. She wanted adventure and he'd give it to her in spades.
And he liked this, too. That was what got her even wetter, made it okay that she was perched like a princess on the palm tree, the rough bark digging into the thin satin of her panties. Palm trees weren't made for thongs, but she didn't have to be practical right now because she had Mason working magic between her thighs. He took his sweet time, though, and the little gasps and sighs that she couldn't-wouldn't-hold back? Those didn't make him go faster at all. He was a man on a mission and she wanted to scream mine to the whole damned island.
He licked a delicious trail higher up her thigh, drawing sugary patterns against her skin. His thumbs pushed beneath the edge of her panties, his big hands cupping her butt, shielding her from the palm tree's rougher bits.
"I like this garter-dance business," he rasped, sounding like he meant every word.
"We're not dancing," she felt compelled to point out.
He exhaled and she felt that. "You're awfully literal for somebody who wants me to believe a candy necklace is a garter."
His thumb slid beneath the fabric of her panties in a bluntly erotic caress. Swept up her soaked folds, parting her, finding her clit and pressing. It was a good thing she was sitting down, because her legs wouldn't hold her now.
"You have an excellent imagination," she said.
"You have no idea," he growled. God. She loved it when he went all cranky, surly male on her. She had no idea what was going through his head, but he was thinking something and he wasn't indifferent.
"And you're stopping." There had to be a rule against leaving a gal hanging on a palm tree halfway to orgasm, and she'd invoke it.
"Complaints." But he said it with a roguish smile now, his thumb flicking and stroking her clit. Just that little bit of him was almost enough to send her over the edge. But she was playing a long game today and she wanted all of him. A quickie orgasm on the beach wasn't enough.
He lowered his head-slowly, which made her think that one of these days, before her vacation was over, she need to figure out what it took to make him lose control-and stroked his other thumb over the red satin.
"You're so pretty."
He made her feel like the most amazing woman he'd ever met, as if she was a fantasy lover who really, truly belonged on Fantasy Island. She was erotic and powerful. With Mason, she wasn't standing on the sidelines, watching others live out her secret dreams. He was everything she'd dreamed about, and it was funny that she'd met him here. What were the chances of that?
He eased her panties to the side, exposing her. "You're even sweeter here."
She wasn't sure what had happened to their garter dance, but she wasn't complaining. She was wet and aroused, aching for more of a touch he was more than willing to give her. He cupped her butt in his hands, angling her, supporting her, and then he lowered his mouth to her. Her whole body sang with the pleasure of it. He licked and suckled, his tongue pressing against her clit in a steady, knowing rhythm. Each perfectly timed stroke pushed her higher, her heels digging hard into his back as she rode his mouth with gleeful abandon.
When the pleasure inside her snapped, the orgasm rippling through her, he kissed her through that, too, easing her down, keeping her safe as she shrieked out his name and lost herself to the sensation.
Eventually she came back to herself and released her death grip on his head. He snapped the necklace free, fisting the tiny pieces of candy like a knight seizing his lady's favor, except there was nothing chaste about how Mason had touched her. What he'd done was raw and erotic, and she wouldn't have had it any other way.
He slid up her body, his eyes never leaving her face. "I'm keeping the necklace."
He could keep whatever he wanted. "Are we done?"
"Not at all." He swept her up in his arms, snagging her bag.
"Oh, good." The ease with which he lifted her made her feel skinny and delicate. She wasn't those things-didn't mind that she wasn't because Mason clearly enjoyed her curves-but it was nice to be held so close. Plus, her knees were all quivery. He could go Neanderthal on her anytime he wanted.
He carried her back to the villa with long, easy strides, not saying anything in particular. She rested her face against his chest, drinking in the way his fingers caressed the bare skin of her back. Her big red-and-white Aztec-print bag bumped his mighty fine ass with each step he took, but he didn't look as though he minded, and if she got any more turned on, she'd spontaneously combust.
"No sex on the beach?" She had to ask.
A grin curved his mouth. "You'd sunburn."
"It's after sunset. Chicken." She grinned at him. God, he was cute.
He nipped her mouth in a quick, hard kiss, striding up the path. "I'm voting for a bed."
* * *
NORMALLY, MASON COULD keep his inner caveman in check, even if his imagination sometimes suggested other, fun ways to please his partner. Today? Not so much. He felt a primal satisfaction in holding Maddie close, in carrying her. She wasn't getting away from him now.
Not that she looked as if she was trying.
She tugged at his shirt, licking the sensitive hollow of his collarbone before she sucked the skin. Pleasure followed the sharp, bright burst of pain. Jesus. She couldn't wait, either, and that definitely made his caveman happy.
He somehow got the door to her villa open, dumped her bag on the couch and slid the dead bolt home. A housekeeping interruption wasn't part of his plans.
"Bedroom," she panted, sliding her hands beneath his T-shirt.
God. She drove him crazy. The feel of her wet, lush mouth suckling him, that adorable curiosity of hers...that and her uninhibited hunger for him? Yeah. He was a total goner. He took her into the bedroom, shoving down the covers and dropping her onto the mattress. After setting his phone on the bedside table-although he'd kill Gray if their recall timeline got stepped up-he performed a mental weapons check. He was clear.