Waikiki Wedding: Unforgettable Nights in Hawaii Page 7

  Amy blushed and drew back. “Race you to the beach blanket. Last one there is a rotten egg.”

  She took off, but Ray remained. Wading into waist-deep water, he made a show of washing the sand off his arms and elbows, buying time.

  He rejoined her on the blanket. “I guess you won this one.”

  “I guess so.” She grinned.

  Ray lay on his back beside her, breathing in her scent. Surf and sand and sunscreen and just Amy. She was driving him crazy. All he could think about was burying his face between those perfectly shaped breasts. Or rolling over onto her body and …

  “You never told me what you do for a living,” she said.

  That brought his brain back to normal.

  “Emily and I guessed that you're a teacher. Well, Emily guessed, because she teaches high school, and she noticed how much patience you had with the kids.” She looked at him with anticipation. “Did we guess right?”

  “No. Not a teacher.”

  Amy was still looking at him, waiting for more.

  He realized he couldn't put this off any longer. “I’m actually between jobs right now. After college I sold cars for a while in Stillwater—customers love a football hero—but I got bored with that and moved on. My last job was selling tractors and heavy equipment in a town near my family’s farm.” The farm he’d been so hell-bent to get away from. "But nothing matches the rush of playing football.”

  He glanced away a minute before daring to look back at her, fearing disappointment in her eyes. Her mouth was pinched, her expression thoughtful. She was probably figuring out a way to politely extricate herself from this loser.

  In an effort to break the awkward silence, he asked, “What are your plans after you finish graduate school?” Listening to her ramble on about her career path, it was painfully obvious that Amy Pratt was leagues above him in the life-planning department. A girl like her was better suited to someone like his younger brother, Bobby. The kid had always been smart as a whip. He'd earned an academic scholarship to college, not a jock ride as Ray had. And, like Amy, Bobby had his whole life planned out.

  “Hi, you two.”

  Ray looked up to see Emily and Doug approaching. From their flushed and happy faces, he guessed they’d had a wonderful nap. The kind of nap his body ached to engage in with Amy.

  What the hell was it about this woman that pressed all his buttons? Nothing about his lackluster Oklahoma future matched her picture-perfect life. He should just walk away before someone got hurt.

  Doug slapped Ray’s shoulder. “You up for some bodysurfing?”

  Ray jumped to his feet and stripped off his T-shirt. “You’re on.”

  • • •

  “We have your room ready, Mr. and Mrs. Clarke." The clerk behind the desk proceeded to explain to Carrie's parents about all the amenities, including the free Wi-Fi and a long list of other things that no one really cared about.

  Not seeing Carrie anywhere in the lobby, Amy wrapped the towel more tightly around her waist and twisted to face her brother. "You guys go on up without me. I'm going to say hi to Carrie's folks."

  "Will we see you again tonight?" Doug asked.

  "Emily will." Amy turned to her future sister-in-law. "You're still coming to the bachelorette party, right?"

  "Absolutely." She patted Doug's arm. "This guy is ditching me early to keep a date with a football game in the bar."

  "Hey, you said you wanted to go to the party," Doug protested.

  "I do." Emily sank into her fiancé and, raising her chin, lightly kissed his lips. "We can make our own fun later."

  Doug didn't say a word, but he stared down at Emily like he'd forgotten anyone else was in the hotel.

  The flash of heat between those two was so strong that Amy actually took a step back and resisted the urge to fan herself.

  Ray lingered, his gaze shifting from the happy couple to her. For a brief moment she thought she saw the same hunger in his eyes. She probably did. She’d seen it on the beach, in the water, and, now that she thought about it, pretty much all morning during their Honolulu tour. Didn't all men think about sex every nine seconds or something ridiculous like that? She'd only be kidding herself to believe he could feel about her the way Doug did about Emily.

  When she'd swam up behind Ray earlier and knocked his feet—and his swim trunks—out from under him, he'd come up spewing water like Old Faithful, fire in his eyes, ready to lunge at the person foolish enough to tackle him. Instead his eyes had landed on Amy, and his expression had softened. Now a wary smile graced his features. She wished instead that the tender expression from before still stared back at her.

  "I think I'll get a cool drink in the bar," Ray said.

  "Good idea. Why don’t you order me a margarita? This should only take a minute."

  Ray nodded and walked away.

  "Amy, dear." Carrie's mother smiled warmly at Amy's approach. "I expected my daughter to be here."

  So did Amy. "She should be down in a sec. I know she had some last-minute details to go over."

  "Yes. Details." The woman shook her head. "I swear that girl is so hard-headed it's no wonder—"

  Extending his hand, the clerk gave Mr. Clarke a small cardboard envelope. "Here are two key cards for your room—"

  "Room?" Carrie's mom interrupted. "We have a suite."

  The man turned to his computer. “Just give me a moment to check.” Hunching closer, his brows buckled as he squinted at the screen. "May I see your identification again please?"

  Amy crossed her fingers at her sides and prayed the hotel hadn't botched the Clarkes’ reservation. Carrie was already walking on thin ice with her parents, after changing all their intended wedding plans. And, while Mrs. Clarke was a nice lady most of the time, she was getting a bit persnickety about having been overruled.

  "Okay." The man nodded. "My apologies. Just one more second to confirm. Yes. All done." He retrieved the earlier keys and quickly issued new ones. "Now we have it straight. You are in the Iliani Suite on the tenth floor. And again my apologies."

  "We should have done this at home. The Fairmont has wonderful banquet facilities. All the family could have attended—"

  "Christine, … we're not going there again." Carrie's dad set his hand on the small of his wife's back and nudged her toward the elevators. "Let's go lie down for a bit and wait for Carrie to call."

  "Oh." Mrs. Clarke pulled out her phone. "Good idea. I'll call her again."

  "No." Mr. Clarke gently put his hand on his wife's phone. "We'll wait for her to call us. Let's go. I need to put my feet up."

  "Oh, right. Of course." She turned her head and looked at Amy over her shoulder. "Nice to see you again, dear."

  Amy waved at the woman. "Nice to see you too." She didn't want to imagine what her own mother would be like when it came time to put together Amy’s wedding. Not that she had plans to get married anytime soon. Her gaze drifted to where Ray stood at the bar, his towel slung over his shoulder. The man really was impressive without a shirt. Even with his pants on.

  When Ray had said he was between jobs, she hadn't thought much of it. She knew a lot of people, especially some of her friends with popular degrees, who had a hard time finding a good job. But Ray had gone on to explain that he'd left several jobs by choice because of … what? Boredom? It had taken all her social decorum to hide her disappointment and chatter on about her plans, as though talking about the weather.

  The man pushed buttons she hadn't known she had. From her first glance there’d been a jolt of electricity between them. Maybe not love at first sight but something. And when she’d watched him, fully clothed, soaking wet, breathing life into the drowning boy, a heartstring had snapped.

  What business was it of hers that he was unemployed? Didn't have a plan? So what if he was one of those dreamers who was never happy with their lot in life? This was just a damn vacation. A weekend fling. None of this mattered.

  Right. And the moon was made of green cheese. It mattered to her.
She might wish it didn't, but it did. No matter how much she wanted to organize and compartmentalize everything happening between her and Ray, as though she were rearranging her bedroom closet, it wasn't going to happen.

  She walked toward the bar, her heart fluttering in her chest. Maybe it didn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe, like when she had dived after Ray in the water, she should just brush away her inhibitions and jump in.

  "Hi." She sidled up to him. "Where do you want to sit?"

  Ray slowly scanned her face, as if he were trying to memorize every detail, then took a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it on the bar. “On second thought I'm wiped." He pushed to his feet, his drink untouched. "I should head back to my room. Have a nice time tonight."

  Chapter Eleven

  Ray stood hesitantly at the door of Amy’s room, his hand poised to knock. You were going to walk away, he reminded himself. It will just get more difficult the longer this goes on. True, but he didn’t have to be such an asshole about it. He recalled the hurt, confused look on Amy’s face when he’d left the bar. The least he could do was apologize.

  He rapped at her door and held his breath for a full five seconds before he heard footsteps.

  Amy opened the door. “I’ll be down in five minutes, Em—” Her eyes widened. “Ray.”

  Immediately she ducked behind the door but not before Ray caught a glimpse of cleavage between the lacy cups of a black bra and tantalizing creamy skin above a black slip at her waist.

  He raised his gaze to eye level. “Hey.”

  “Just a minute.” The door closed, and, when it swung open again, she wore a robe of some silky material that caressed her body in all the right places. “I thought you were ‘wiped.’”

  The faint scent of her cologne reminded him of gardenias. "I am, but may I come in a minute?"

  She stepped aside, letting him in.

  Ray looked for a place to sit, but the one chair was across the room, and the only other option was the bed. He stood just inside the doorway. “I know you’re getting ready to go out so I won’t keep you, but I couldn’t let you leave without apologizing for the way I acted.”

  She folded her arms and stared at him for a full minute, then said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Ray took a step backward

  “Maybe I’m young and naive, but I thought we had something. Or the beginnings of something.”

  “I felt that way too. That first time I saw you on the terrace was like getting struck by a lightning bolt.” And his body still burned from the aftershocks. He ventured a step closer to her. “Even though we only met a few days ago, it seems like I’ve known you a lot longer.”

  She nodded but didn’t unfold her arms.

  “Amy, I …” He searched for words, but his brain failed him. This walking-away thing was more difficult than he’d thought.

  His palms itched to touch her shoulders, but he held them back. “I wish we could make this work, but we’re too different. If we keep this up, someone will get hurt.”

  “That sounds like guy-speak for ‘I’m not attracted to you.’”

  Ray dropped his jaw. “Are you kidding? I haven’t slept for days thinking about you. Do you know how hard it is for me to stand this close to you and not touch you?” With each word his body hardened, and he prayed she kept her eyes on his face and didn’t look down. “But I don’t want anyone to get hurt when we walk away at the end of the week. So I thought it would be better if I walked away now.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Did you even consider asking me what I thought?”

  Hope filled his chest. But … “I’m trying to make this easier for you, Amy.”

  “For me? Or for yourself?” She blinked back tears. “You want to end this now? Go.” She walked to the door and paused with her hand on the knob.

  So there it was. The End. Finale. Over and done. Ray tried to walk to the door, but his feet wouldn’t move. The air in the room had become so stifling he could barely breathe.

  “I can’t. I can’t walk away from you now.” He stared into her vulnerable blue eyes and heard himself whisper, “Maybe not ever.”

  She met his gaze, and Ray almost drowned in her eyes.

  Stop this. He cleared his throat. “I should let you get dressed. You don’t want to be late for the party.”

  “No. I don’t.” But Amy remained where she was, unmoving.

  “Well, good night.” He stood rooted in place.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice was hoarse. Sensuous. Needy.

  They stared silently at each other another minute. Finally Ray groaned, “Oh God, Amy." Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her all the way to the bed.

  • • •

  The urgency of Ray’s lips caught Amy off guard, and almost off balance, but his powerful hands splayed against her back held her firmly against him. She loved the feel of him. The fit of him.

  Slowly, his mouth never leaving hers, he lowered her to the bed.

  The back of her mind screamed, This is a bad idea. In a few more days you’ll be home, and he’ll be God-knows-where. Her body brushed aside her fears. Enjoy the moment. For once in your life, don’t plan three steps ahead.

  Oh, and she was enjoying it, all right. She couldn’t get enough of his lips. Hungry to taste him, her lips parted, inviting him in. His tongue plunged inside, mating with hers, teasing her taste buds, and heightening her senses. Nerve endings she didn't know she had tingled with anticipation.

  Hovering over her on his knees, his hands pressed against the mattress, Ray continued loving her with his mouth, kissing her lips, her eyes, her chin, searing her skin.

  His fingers tugged at her belt, loosening the robe, exposing her black lace bra. Lifting his head, he paused to admire the sight of her. The reflection in his eyes mirrored the desire coursing through her body.

  Wanting him closer, she pulled him in, her fingers swirling along the small of his back, scratching at his waist, teasing his flesh. He sucked in a groan, his body pressing against her, her legs parting, adjusting to the weight of him, begging for more.

  “Am I too heavy?” he rasped.

  “Yes. No. I mean, don't stop.”

  His fingers kneaded her waist, working down to her hips and back, leaving her desperate for his hands to move lower. The whole time his mouth continued to plant tender kisses. On her eyes, her nose, her forehead. His tongue swirled inside her ear.

  There was no stopping the moan that rose from deep inside her. Ray was making her body sing. His lips lowered to her neck, and her breath caught. His tongue traveled to the crevice between her breasts, moving to suck at her nipples through the lacy material of her bra. The peaks pebbled in his mouth. What was this man doing to her?

  • • •

  Ray's body hardened with every touch, every feel, every whiff of Amy. Taking his time was proving damn hard. Literally. The need to feel her warm heat surrounding him was almost too much to bear. He had one chance to do this right, and he wanted to show Amy more pleasure than she'd ever known. To have her screaming his name, begging for more.

  He continued to suck on her pebbled nipples, reveling in her soft mewls of pleasure. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, sliding the straps off one shoulder, then the other. Anxiously cupping her breasts, he kneaded the fleshy mounds until Amy’s moans pierced the air. Unwilling to hold back any longer, he dipped his thumbs inside the waistband of her black slip, catching the edge of her panties and tugging them down her shapely legs. He tossed them aside, leaving her lying deliciously naked in front of him.

  • • •

  Amy's body cried out with raging need, and, for once, her brain had gone silent. Thrusting her hands under the back of his shirt, she delighted in the feel of his skin. Enough was enough. Pushing at his shoulders, she tugged at the fabric, thrilled when he reached down and yanked it over his head, tossing it across the room, kicking out of his pants.

  Her eyes dran
k in the almost full view of his muscled body and gravitated to the only part covered but clearly outlined through his black briefs. She'd never wanted a man more in her entire life.

  “Ray” was the only word she could murmur.

  He slid off the bed and, finding his pants, fumbled in his pocket.

  She almost screamed, missing the warmth of him, the strength of him.

  Tearing open a foil packet, he couldn't climb back on the bed fast enough for her. Reaching forward, she took the condom from his hands and rolled it onto the strong erection she so desperately wanted to feel deep inside her.

  “I want you.” Had she said that aloud? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the sharp pleasure when he slipped inside her. Her body embraced him. In synchronized rhythm, their bodies rocked together. Need spiraling, desire escalating, her body screamed for release. Ray pinched her oversensitive nipple with one hand, and, reaching between them with the other, sent her flying over a cliff of ecstasy. His body stiffened over hers, and, thrusting one last time, she felt another jolt of pleasure.

  Ray collapsed against her breasts, kissed her cheek, her chin, the tip of her nose, then rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. Amy lay against his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

  He cell phone rang.

  “Oh, my God.” She sprang from his arms. “The bachelorette party. Emily must be waiting for me.”

  Naked, she dashed to the dresser and caught the phone on the third ring. “Emily, I’m so sorry. I …I fell asleep. You go on ahead, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She looked around wildly for her clothes. Across the room she spotted her black panties straddling the back of the desk chair. "I was supposed to meet Emily in the lobby for the party."

  Ray reached for his shirt. "I got that."

  Amy stepped into her panties, her eyes darting about for more clothing.

  "Here's your bra." Ray lifted the lacy article from atop the bedside lamp and grinned at her, hunger in his eyes again.

  "Where's my slip?"

  Ray scanned the small space, reaching for his own underwear at the foot of the bed. "I don't see it."