“Sunshine,” I groan before I swoop down and plunge into her mouth while I thrust forward into the tight clasp of her body.

  Gliding through her is so smooth, like silicone over glass.

  Suddenly, I’m submerged inside her. She fits around me like a perfectly tailored suit. I taste the wine on her breath as I take her tongue. I feel the softness of her body as she rises up to meet me. I see the pleasure rip across her face as I brace myself on the big stone behind her and sink my last inch deep.

  I ease back—all the way to the weeping tip of my shaft—then I shove my way inside her again. She undulates beneath me in a sensual ripple of her body and lies back farther, opens herself to me wider.

  Desire sucks my sanity clear from my brain. I descend into a haze of arousal, where I’m compelled to meld myself to her. I have no thoughts that aren’t of the scent of her blending with me, wrapped in the ocean salt. I have no wants that aren’t steeped in delving my way deeper into her body and making sure I’ve touched every possible part of her.

  I shift the angle of my head and fuse our lips together once more. I drink in more of her as I sink into her again. And again.

  She breaks the kiss with a gasp and falls back on her elbows, head tossed back. “Maxon…”

  Her breasts fill my vision. I lick my way up the side of one. I want to take her nipple in my mouth, roll it on my tongue. They look taut and perfect. They’re under-loved, which is definitely a failing on my part I intend to rectify soon. But at the moment, I’m too busy hovering above Keeley and watching her face as I fill her up in a rhythm that picks up speed with every thrust.

  “What do you need, sunshine?” I manage to grind the words out. If I’m hurting her, I have to know. Otherwise…I’m not sure much is stopping this pleasure train.

  “I’m close.” Her words sound strained.

  Thank god. I’m on the edge, too.

  She peppers kisses up and down my arms. It’s the only part of me she can reach in this position. So she drags her lips up the sensitive inside crook of my elbow, nipping at me with her teeth. An electric arc races through me as she plucks at my skin and moans.

  Then she thrusts a hand between her legs. I feel her manipulating her clit with her fingers. It’s something I’d be more than happy to do to her myself—if I wasn’t using my hands to hold my body upright to prevent a full-on face plant into the rocks.

  Why did I think sex right here was a good idea?

  Next time—and there will be one—I’ll make sure I can touch every part of her and hurtle her into ecstasy a few times. After the discomfort of the beachcapade, I owe her a few stellar orgasms.

  Despite the fact I can’t get a hand free to fondle her where I’d like to, she manages to do a great job on her own. Her moans turn breathy, high-pitched, almost panicked. She clamps down on me. I’m on fire. She’s going to make it to the finish line before me…but it’s going to be a damn close race.

  “Maxon…” She sounds almost distressed.

  “Here, sunshine,” I growl. “You ready?”

  “Yes. Damn it. Oh…” she pants, body heaving and bucking against me. “Yes. Please. Deeper. More. Like that.”

  I hammer her now—fast, unmerciful, an onslaught of power, desire, and determination to make her come.

  Color splashes across her chest, creeps up her neck to stain her cheeks. Rosy. Aroused. So fucking beautiful. Her entire body tenses, and I know she’s there.

  I brace for my own orgasm. My blood has reached a boil. I’ve been holding off the tingling brewing in my balls but they feel heavy. I’m close to exploding. The time is now.

  As if she can hear my internal monologue, she tenses and looks at me as if only I can save her.

  “Keeley.” I mouth her name because my voice is too scratchy. “Now. Come!”

  We’re so perfectly in sync that she lets go the moment I speak her name. Her body stiffens as she thrashes beneath me, all over my cock. I feel her everywhere—under, around, beside—not just my shaft but my whole body. I’m aware of her scream, of her goose bumps, of the gentle sheen of her perspiration.

  Then the orgasm I’ve been trying to hold back runs me over, and all I can do is hold on for dear life and shout her name as I lose my self-control completely.

  I’m hoping I haven’t lost my sanity, too.

  Chapter 3

  After lingering for a few moments, I have to pull away. I’m not ready to break our connection, but the damn rocks are killing my knees. While she rises, I find a trash can beside the nearby towel stand and do away with the condom. When I turn back, I expect to find her dressing.

  Instead, she’s run stark naked into the water.

  I’d ask anyone else if they were crazy, but Keeley flips a laugh at me over her shoulder, like she knows I’m wondering what the fuck she’s doing. Instantly, I see a bright happiness beaming from her face. Since that’s what she wants out of life, I feel good. Weirdly content.

  “Come in the water,” she calls to me.

  “I’m not skinny dipping in the ocean. What if someone calls the cops to say there’s more than one moon shining on this beach?”

  Her laugh this time is heartier. “Then we sweet-talk our way out of it or go to jail, but how many times in life will we have the chance to do something like this?”

  Probably not very many. She has a point.

  I shuck my shoes and pants. “I must be crazy. I blame you.”

  “Good.” Keeley turns to me, flashing me a full frontal of her glorious nudity. “You should.”

  I just had a monster climax less than five minutes ago, but I’m already hoping my recovery time is short. I’d love to get her back to the condo, into my bed, and do every crazy, dirty, wonderful thing to her I can think of.

  “I will,” I promise as I head into the brisk Hawaiian water.

  Her smile—whether she means it or not—looks sultry. “I love being a dangerous woman.”

  Though she sometimes seems so sweet I could get a cavity, I sense her wild side just under the surface. The male animal in me wants to feel her again. Tame her—at least for an hour or two.

  I take her hand. With the other, she bends to splash me.

  “You want a fight?” I challenge.

  “Maybe…”

  She’s flirting. I love it. I’m never playful after sex. Most of my partners get their clothes on and leave, which is a relief. Tiffanii always showered the smell of sex—of me—off her body before she rolled over and went to sleep. In fairness, as a flight attendant, she often had to be up by four to work the 6:30 a.m. flight to Honolulu. Still, it pissed me off.

  But Keeley wants to…frolic. I can’t think of a better word. She’s splashing and giggling and enjoying life.

  It’s contagious. I smile and splatter her with water in return.

  With a sigh, she falls against me, still grinning, then steals a kiss. She’s gone before I can pull her in closer, staring out at the vast ocean again.

  I sidle up behind her and wrap my arms around her. My lips fall to her shoulder. She’s the perfect height for me to press kisses there. She shivers in my arms.

  “If you don’t stop making me happy, how are you ever going to get rid of me?”

  “Who says I want to?”

  She scoffs. “Oh, I know your type. If you’re too busy to come home and take advantage of this view, you’re too busy for a relationship. It’s okay. I get that you want satisfying, not meaningful.”

  A few hours ago, I would have agreed with her. Now I don’t know what the hell is going on. An impulsive side of me I would have sworn didn’t exist is telling me that I should try to make something of my connection with this girl. Keeley is interesting. She holds my attention. She’s not into herself—her life, her parties, or her looks. She’s into the people around her. She’s into living. She makes me look at my life differently. Come to think of it, she’s everything I’ve never had in a woman before.

  If Britta truly knew this woman, my assistant would approve.

  But Griff, the thirty-million-dollar listing, and the task I need to ask of Keeley tomorrow loom. I want to keep her with me longer…but my brother will lose his shit when he meets her. He’ll fall all over himself to win her. He’ll half-ass the Stowe estate to be with her. Doesn’t that sound stupid? But trust me, it’s true. And once the Stowe heirs see he’s too busy chasing tail to chase leads, they will cut him loose. Then bam, I’m in. It’s gold. I’ll celebrate.

  But I’ll be celebrating alone.

  Well, not exactly. I’ll have Rob and Britta. They’ll make a pretty penny from this deal, too. And I’ll find another woman to make me feel good again, right? Now that I know how important personality and a carefree spirit are, I’ll look for those qualities.

  “I may surprise you yet,” I tell her.

  Not with the meaningful relationship stuff. Although…I wonder if there’s any chance she’ll agree to distract Griff and continue to sleep with me.

  That sounds bad, I know. I probably shouldn’t even consider the possibility. I’m worried about asking, too. I’ve seen what she can do to a man’s gnads. It makes me shudder.

  “Really?” She turns in my arms and smiles. “I think I’d like that. Now take me back to your place. It’s getting cold.”

  Judging from the position of the moon and the incoming tide, midnight is fast approaching. She’s small, and the wind begins blowing. Her nipples turn hard, and I have to remind myself her reaction isn’t because she wants me again.

  I’ll work on that.

  I pull another round of gentleman out of my ass, scoop up her clothes, and hand them over. “You got it.”

  She wraps her dress around her damp body. It clings everywhere. I stop in the middle of shaking sand out of my pants to stare. She simply sparkles.

  “Hurry.” She curls her arms around herself.

  I can almost hear her teeth chattering as she shoves her bra in her dress pocket and fetches the bottle of wine.

  I’m looking around for my damn boxer briefs when sand pelts my back. It sticks to my skin, and I know it’s going to be impossible to get every grain off before I have to slip my clothes back on.

  I whirl around to find Keeley holding in a laugh. “You threw sand at me?”

  Her eyes dance. “Oops. My hand must have slipped. My bad.”

  “You’re a shitty liar.”

  That makes her laugh more.

  I raise a brow at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back.”

  “Oh, big man with big words.”

  “No. Big man with big promises.” I fumble around in my clothes until I finally find my underwear, then do my best to brush off what sand I can before thrusting them on.

  “I’ll look forward to that,” she taunts.

  I finish dressing and we make our way back toward my unit. She tosses the wine bottle in the nearest bin, and I grab her hand. It feels automatic. By her own admission, she likes me and doesn’t seem to mind that I’m the kind of guy who puts business first. Maybe that will work in my favor tomorrow.

  When we reach the condo, I direct her to the guest suite, which has a private bath attached to the separate bedroom. Moments later, the water turns on, and after some rustling, I hear a grateful sigh. I would rather have showered with her, but I have so much sand stuck to my body, I’m not sure I can get clean without getting her dirty again. Okay, that’s not the only issue. I’m also out of condoms in my bathroom.

  Once we’re both showered and in the bedroom, though? Yeah. I smile and melt under the spray of water.

  As I’m stepping out, my phone rings. I look at the clock. Eleven fifty-two p.m. It’s either an emergency or an international buyer, but either way, there’s no question I’ll answer.

  “Maxon Reed.” I wrap the towel around my waist.

  Twenty minutes later, I hang up with the client from London who conveniently forgets about the time difference a lot and leave a quick e-mail for Britta about follow-ups from the conversation. I also tell her I’ll be in late tomorrow. I don’t say why, but I know talking to Keeley about Project Griff isn’t likely to be a five-minute process.

  Once finished, I pause. I’m not hearing rustling around the rest of the condo. I get the feeling that quiet from her can be dangerous. I frown. Has she gone back to the lanai? Or fucking left me?

  After throwing on some shorts and a T-shirt, I charge into the living room—and stop short at the sight of Keeley asleep on my sofa. Her damp hair is wound on top of her head in a haphazard knot. Her face is completely devoid of makeup. Without all the color and sparkle and vampy lipstick, she looks young. And really lovely. I’ve been with women who wear their cynicism all over their faces, even when they sleep. Keeley lies in repose with her hands pressed together under her cheek, every muscle in her body perfectly relaxed.

  Do I ever allow my guard down this much and just let go?

  I stare a moment more. Should I wake her up and move her to a bed? That strategy holds the most potential for another round of sex. I don’t want to pass up that opportunity, especially if she stops talking to me tomorrow.

  “Keeley?” I shake her shoulder.

  She doesn’t even open her eyes, merely swats at me with a halfhearted backhand. “Go away.”

  I can barely understand her mumble. “Don’t you want a bed?” I fondle my way up her stomach to cradle a breast, and the second I get her flesh against my palm I get hard. “How about round two? C’mon, sunshine. Let me make you feel good again.”

  Her little grunt is cute. “No. Happy.”

  She rolls over and turns her back to me. I stand, stare, blink. Then I have to hold in a laugh. Apparently, she doesn’t like to have her sleep interrupted. Message received, loud and clear, even if I don’t like the content.

  I sigh and fish a blanket out of the closet near the door, then spread it over her supine form. She lets out a contented little sigh. Her rhythmic breathing tells me she’s fallen into deep slumber.

  So…I guess that’s it for tonight. I should go to bed and try to grab a few hours of sleep myself. I need to hit tomorrow hard. I have a Griff problem to solve and Keeley is key. I hope she’ll be open to remaining lovers. But from everything I learned about her, I don’t expect it. And if it’s a choice between keeping the woman or crushing my adversary…Griff is going down.

  Sunlight burns through my lids as I swim to consciousness. It’s already after sunrise?

  Stunned that I’ve overslept—I can’t remember the last time that happened—I open my eyes. The clock in front of me shows three glaring red numbers—9:18?

  I’ve normally fielded a dozen calls by now. The damn device starts ringing in earnest at just after six most mornings, but a glance at my nightstand tells me my phone isn’t there.

  Gaping, I sit up, raking a hand through my hair. I might have been disoriented a few moments ago, but I’m wide awake now.

  “Good morning,” a soft female voice says beside me.

  I turn to find Keeley. The previous evening rushes back to me.

  So does the task before me today.

  God, she looks gorgeous, face freshly scrubbed, hair falling in soft waves around her as she reads my morning paper with a glass of orange-mango juice in hand.

  “Morning.” When did she get in bed beside me? “Um…”

  “I hope you don’t mind. When I woke up about three, your bed looked more comfortable than the sofa, and I wanted to be with you.”

  I’ve been curled up beside her for hours and I didn’t know it? I’m slipping. I wish I had a do-over so I could do her again. At the very least, enjoy that the sheets beside me are warm and smell like her. I’ve had my fun, though. I hate it, but the time has come to shift focus from pleasure to business—at least for now. “Do you know where my phone is?”

  She gives me an uncertain smile. “Your text messages started dinging at ten after six this morning. When you didn’t move at all, I figured you could use the rest. So I silenced the phone and moved it to the kitchen.”

  She’s let me sleep through critical business communications for the last three hours?

  I leap out of bed. This is terrible. Fuck, it’s catastrophic. If there’s an issue, my chance at the Stowe listing could slip through my fingers and right into Griff’s hands so fast.

  “About an hour ago, someone named Britta called and wanted you to know the world hasn’t collapsed.”

  The driven Realtor in me who knows I didn’t get to number one on the island by sleeping the day away? That part of me wants to chew Keeley a new one. I don’t. She meant well. Still, I can’t quite keep my voice softer than a dull roar as I hover over her. “You silenced my phone and then answered it? What if it had been a client?”

  “Relax,” she insists. “Geez, you’re so tightly wound. One of the body’s most natural healing mechanisms is sleep. You said you hadn’t had any in a long time, so when you kept snoozing through the dinging, I thought I was being considerate to let you rest. And I wouldn’t have answered, except the caller ID popped up as ‘office,’ and she rang you three times in five minutes. Is she a colleague?”

  “Britta is my assistant.”

  “She didn’t sound happy that I’m still here. You two have a thing?”

  I shake my head. “No. I think of her like a sister. A few years ago, she was involved with…” Why am I opening this can of shit? It’s not important right now. “I need my phone.”

  Keeley gestures to the bedroom door, which leads out to the kitchen.

  I stomp my way across the hardwoods and pick up the device. Twelve texts, five missed calls, two voice mails, and seventeen urgent e-mails. I groan aloud as I attack everything I missed.

  Surprisingly, one of the voice mails is from Britta saying that she’s handled most of the e-mails and half the phone calls. I realize the majority of the texts are follow-ups from the other missed communications.