Wicked Games by Myles Jill

Author:Myles, Jill [Myles, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Holy crap. I totally did not mean for that to happen. But at the same time…I don’t regret it. Not in the slightest. – Dean Woodall, Day 16

~*~

I woke up to the delicious feeling of a broad chest against my back, an arm locked around my waist, and a pillow under my head. In fact, it felt so wonderful I didn’t want to open my eyes.

“I can tell you’re awake,” Dean whispered against the back of my head. “You’re twitching.”

With a groan, I flipped over and burrowed against his chest, trying to hide from the sunny, too-bright world. “If I wake up, that means we have to go back.”

He laughed at that, and I felt the rumbles in his chest through my own body. Dean’s hand had slid to my hip, where my sarong had bunched up high on my legs. He was rubbing the exposed skin there with slow, smooth circles, as if he couldn’t resist touching me. My face grew hot as I recalled – whoever had left us the sarongs had not left us matching underwear.

But I didn’t feel the urge to move, or to push Dean’s hands away. I remembered the shower last night, and our explosive, frantic sex. That had been the most singularly awesome sexual experience I’d ever had, but I wasn’t sure how to initiate it again. My eyes slid open and all I could see was the lean, darkly tanned muscles of Dean’s torso. He’d lost so much weight in two weeks that his six-pack was etched and defined, and some of the bulk of his body was gone. Not that it made him unattractive – not by a long shot.

His breath fanned slowly on my hair, my head tucked under his chin. His hand continued to move in the soft, stroking motion, sliding up and down the swell of my hip and buttock. I looked down at my bare hip, the blankets around our thighs, and gave a small sigh at the sight. “I’m getting bony.”

“You’re beautiful. Always have been.”

My breath caught in my throat at that, warmth flooding through me, and I suddenly wanted him very much again. With gentle fingers, I slid my hand out from where it was tucked against my own body and brushed the taut skin over his abdomen. Inviting him.

Dean’s mouth pressed against my forehead, and he gave me a soft kiss, his lips grazing my hairline before moving lower. His fingers that had been stroking my hip grew possessive, clenching me toward him, and my eyes flew to his when a hot, naked erection prodded my stomach through the thin sarong. “You’re not dressed?”

He shook his head down at me, a slow, sensuous smile curving his mouth. “You’re hardly dressed yourself.” As if to prove this point, his hand slid up my bare hip, pressing the loose sarong further up my body, exposing my backside. His hand skimmed the curve of my lower back, exploring. “No panties,” he said, leaning in to press another gentle kiss on my face, this time on my eyebrow.

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