The Trouble With Paradise

two years of his life to help his father, had put everything on hold to honor a debt that wasn’t his. But he kept at the massage, and it was putting her brain cells into a pleasure coma. “You’re doing this on purpose, luring me into a state of ecstasy.” Her words were actually slurred because of the bliss coursing through her.

“Stop squirming and relax.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t relax when your hands are on me.”

His fingers went still for one telling beat. “What did I tell you about saying things like that?”

“That you could take advantage.”

“That’s right.”

The thought of him doing just that made the tingling worse. Not that he was amoral, or dangerous, at least not to her physical being. But he was a man who could push her to the edge of her comfort zone without even trying, and though he’d stop if she asked him, the bigger concern here was… would she ask him to? The answer to that was a big, fat, humiliating no. “I’m not the one who decided that this thing between us was… what did you call it? Oh, yes. Asinine.”

He sighed, then rose to his feet. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“Yeah. Okay, great.” She lay there listening to him walk away until Brandy rolled over and slid her sleep mask up to her forehead.

“You should have gone for it again, hon. I wouldn’t have watched. Okay, I might have peeked, but that’s all.”

Dorie let out a huffing laugh. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, I’m not here to judge.”

Dorie turned over, and found Cadence gone from her pad.

“Uh, Brandy?”

Brandy came up on her elbow. “Huh. Looks like someone else is going for it.”

“So much for the penis embargo.”

“Honey, sometimes a woman just can’t help herself.”

Unfortunately, Dorie could identify with that.

It didn’t feel like she slept, but the next time she came awake, she sensed it was much closer to dawn, though the sky was still dark.

Only a week ago, her nighttime fantasies had run along the lines of, say, Matthew McConaughey, but now as she lay on the long, golden stretch of beach, staring past their shelter to the star-riddled night sky, she fantasized about chocolate chip cookies.

Make that double chocolate chip cookies.

Sorry, Matthew, but priorities were priorities. Stuck on a deserted South Pacific island without cookies? Serious suffering going on.

All around her came the sounds that people tended to buy those nature CDs for: the waves gently hitting the shore, crickets chirping, an exotic bird squawking…

Her stomach growling.

She put her hand on her belly, thinking she’d give her right arm for an entire bag of cookies all to herself. Maybe even her left as well.

“How’s the patient?”

Ah, there he was, the bane of her existence. She knew this because just his voice made her nipples go all happy.

Damn nipples.

She felt him sit in the sand at her side but she didn’t look at him. Nope, looking at him was a really bad idea because then her brain would begin that painful tug-of-war.

Want him.

Hate him.

Want him.

Hate him.

She sighed. “Go away.”

“Ah. You’re feeling better.” He lay next to her so that his arm brushed hers, the one she would definitely sell for that bag of chocolate chip cookies.

“Question,” she said.

“Hit me.”

“Do you ever think about chocolate?”

He turned his head and looked at her. He was all hard, lean, sinewy lines to her soft, curvy ones. She imagined if she pointed out how different they were, he’d say he liked those differences very much. “I think about other things,” he said.

“Like?”

“Things.”

His arm shifted, just barely pressing into the side of her breast. And more than just her nipples got happy. Bad. Bad body. “I’m tired.”

“Here’s something to wake you up.” Instead of taking the hint and leaving, he rolled to his side, facing her. “Our bet.”

Oh, no. “We are not going to talk about the bet.” No way.

“That’s because you lost.”

“You cheated.”

He was silent, letting that lie live a life of its own as she remembered the details…

As if she could forget.

“You could just pay up,” he suggested.

That thought shot tingles of excitement directly into certain areas of her anatomy that had no business getting excited. She closed her eyes, a bad idea because her other senses took over. How did he manage to smell like heaven on earth while on a deserted island? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He just laughed softly.

Bastard.

“You didn’t hit your head that hard,” he said. “You know.”

“You’re not going away. Why aren’t you going away?” she asked desperately, knowing exactly what he was talking about, exactly what bet she’d made, and what she now owed him, which involved her.

Dancing.

Naked.

Beneath this very starlit sky. “If you were nice, you’d go.”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “Never claimed to be nice.”

Also true. Damn it.

“Plus we’re stuck on an island,” he pointed out. “Just how far away do you think I can go?”

Keeping her eyes closed, she sighed again. She really hated it when he was right.

The next time she opened her eyes, the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, and she was left to wonder. Had his visit been a dream?

“You okay?” Brandy asked, looking at her from her pad.

“You mean other than we’re shipwrecked and I have sand in parts where no sand should ever be?”

“It’s good for your skin.”

“You said sex was good for the skin.”

“Sex is great for the skin.” Brandy looked Dorie over from head to toe. “And if we had a mirror, I could show you your reflection and prove it.”

She felt her face heat. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Yes, you do. A tall, earthy, passionate, amazing man came over you.

And beneath her… “Brandy?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to ask.”