Max rose on his knees and removed her panties. He moved between her legs and hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear. Slowly, he pushed them down his thighs, revealing first the black hair that grew thicker low on his belly. Then his erection jutted free, huge and powerful. He took himself into his hand as his heated gaze moved over her. Within the shadows of the pine tree, the Caribbean sun set around him, bathing slices of him in gold. “Unbutton your dress, Lola,” he said, his voice raw. “I want to see you. All of you.”
The air around her was charged with longing as she worked each button until the dress lay open. She raised her arm to pull him close, but he planted his hands by her hips and lowered his face to her belly. He kissed her navel and stomach, and buried his face in her cleavage. His rough cheeks chafed her breasts as his wet mouth placed more kisses there. His smooth erection brushed the inside of her thigh and sent a shudder throughout her body.
With unsteady hands, she brought his face to hers. Their gazes met and held as he began his entry. He pushed the broad head of his hot penis inside of her, then his hips rocked back and forth. A slow and easy rhythm, giving her time to stretch and adjust before he grasped her thighs, and with one final thrust, he buried himself fully. Lola gasped and grabbed hold of his shoulders. He filled her completely, the heat of him burning her up inside. A moan she could not control poured from her throat and she wrapped one leg around his waist.
Max sucked in a breath and held it. Beneath her hands his muscles had turned to stone. “Lola,” he whispered against her cheek. “God, you feel incredible. So hot.” He pulled halfway out, then lunged forward. “So good.”
Like the blast of a furnace, heat spread across Lola’s skin. Down her legs to the soles of her feet. Up her belly and across her breasts and arms. Each thrust felt better than the last, leaving her greedy for more. Leaving her wanting. Wanting. Wanting more. More of him.
In and out, harder. Faster. She couldn’t breathe. And still it went on. Stroking exquisite pleasure, and just when she thought she would combust, he placed a hand beneath her bottom, tilted her pelvis, and dove a little deeper.
“Max,” she whispered on a panted breath. “Max. Don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it,” he managed as he hammered into her.
Below his T-shirt where their bellies touched, their skin stuck together. He wrapped his arm around her, and she felt completely consumed by him. With his taking of her, surrounding her, and filling her. Driving her toward orgasm with each thrust of his hips and stroke of his velvet penis. Her entire world was focused on the place he touched inside of her and how good he made it all feel. Her mind reeled and she may have spoken out loud, but she wasn’t quite sure. She closed her eyes, and he placed his hands on the sides of her face. “Lola, open your eyes and look at me.”
She managed his request, but barely. Her whole world was focused on where his body joined hers and the intense rush of sensation that had taken over and was forcing her to meet each plunge of his hips.
“I want you to look at me. I want to see your eyes when I make you come,” he said, then he got his wish as the first wave of orgasm took hold and pulled her into its fury. Her body arched and she clung to him as his body drove her into the vortex of hot, mind-numbing pleasure. She opened her mouth, and he kissed her, swallowing her long moan, taking everything she had, then demanding more. Within the shelter of the Caribbean pine, he swore and praised God in the same ragged whisper. On and on, until he tangled his fingers in her hair and a groan rumbled deep within his chest. His hips pumped faster and harder, then he drove into her one last time.
In the aftermath, their labored breathing filled the air. She wasn’t certain how long they lay together, Max supporting most of his weight on his forearms, while his body covered hers. “Are you okay?” he finally asked.
She ran her fingers through the sides of his hair and chuckled softly. “I think so.”
“Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. You’re an incredible fu-” He caught himself. “Lay. No.” He shook his head. “I meant to say you’re an incredible lady.”
Lola laughed without making a sound. Max’s slip was one of the nicest compliments any man had ever given her. “I’ve also wanted to be an incredible lay.”
“Well, you are that.”
Above the sounds of their breathing, salsa music penetrated their haven and the real world intruded. Max kissed her forehead and muttered something she didn’t quite catch. Then, with her heart still thudding heavy in her chest and her skin still sensitive from his touch, he slid from her body and rose to his knees. The last fingers of light glistened on his wet sex before he pulled up his boxer briefs. He looked out through the branches, then returned his gaze to her.
“You deserve better than this, Lola. If I had my way, we’d do a little skinny-dipping, then go at it again, but real slow next time,” he said as he buttoned up his pants. “But we don’t have time, and we need to have a serious talk.”
Lola sat up and put her panties on. If she had her way, she’d lay around in Max’s arms and bask in her afterglow. She didn’t want to have a serious talk, but she knew they must. Tonight there would be no basking. No laying around. No skinny-dipping, then making love again.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It could be an hour, maybe longer. The main thing is, you’ve got to stay put right here. No matter what you see or hear.”
Meaning, no matter if he got into trouble, she wasn’t to help him. She pulled her dress together, then buttoned it. “I still think I should come with you.”
“No.” He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t protect you against four armed men.” His hand fell to his side. “If anything happens to me, this is what I want you to do-”
She shook her head. “Nothing will happen to you.”
“I want you to wait until those men are long gone,” he continued at if she hadn’t spoken. “Then start a fire on the beach. Get a really big one going, and throw all the plastic and rubber on it that you can find from the
“Max?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing will happen to you,” she repeated, as though, if she said it enough, she could make it true. She didn’t even want to contemplate what could happen.
“I hope not.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Promise me you won’t move from this spot.”
“I promise.”
He placed his hand on the back of her head and gave her a quick kiss. “When I come for you, be ready to move.”
“I will.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Honey, I’m always careful.”
When he would have pulled away, her grasp tightened. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
He took her hand from his arm and kissed her palm. “I’ll do my best.”
There were only two real-life rules to any conflict, two principles of war, that Max followed. Win at all costs, and failure is not an option. Max had been in too many conflicts not to believe in these now more than ever.
He knelt by the creek that ran down the side of the hill and scooped up mud with two fingers. He smeared it across his forehead and around his eyes, down his cheeks and chin. On his arms and the backs of his hands.
The music coming from the beach stopped, and Max glanced through the foliage. Night had completely fallen, and he could see very little. Slightly below him to the left, he could just make out the glow of the campfire. Above the sound of the surf, the slurs and boasts of drunken men filled the cool breeze. Then a new CD kicked in with the sort of Latino music Max had been raised on-the kind of music that made him think of empty bottles and overflowing ashtrays.
He moved to edge of the trees and became part of the inky black shadows. Three bad guys sat next to the fire swilling booze, while a fourth looked to be passed out in one of the fishing chairs. He didn’t see Baby, but the rope that had been tied to him was still tied to the chair. Max crouched behind a palm tree and listened and watched and waited.
The three men by the fire were like most men who sat around getting shitfaced. They bitched about their wives and girlfriends, and they bitched about their jobs. About how hard it was to pick up drug drops and deliver them to waiting vessels on time, as if they were working for the freakin‘ UPS.
