Because of non-refundable tickets and a loser, would-be groom caught with his pants around his ankles just before the wedding, Jade Palmer finds herself all alone on an exotic island, in a resort world renowned for its specialty creams. After a year of depriving herself to fit into the designer gown, she plans on flaunting her new slim body in a bikini on the beach, indulging in some of the resorts special creams, and taking care of her needs for a change. Her main need, a man to live out the sexual fantasy this trip was meant to be.
Jade was half asleep, the shades pulled partially, the windows open so the cool sea breezes drifted across her damp skin. Milky moonlight filtered into the room offset the tiny flickering of the flame on the single jasmine candle.
Her limbs were heavy, relaxed. She lay back on the smooth cotton sheets, their supple texture fine against her skin. Four days on an exotic island, known for their erotic creams, body butters, and intimate encounters.
And she’d had sex once. Once.
Flopping onto her back, she smoothed a palm down her body, touching her breasts, pausing to flick the beaded tip with her thumb. She ached. All over. She’d tried to appease the need for physical release by running on the beach.
“Alrighty then,” she laughed at herself. It hadn’t helped ease the tension. It’d merely left her sore, regularly unused muscles protesting the sudden exertion.
She’d made her way back to her room, her body tired and sluggish, and had soaked in the tub until her skin had wrinkled. Pushing herself from the sudsy warm water, she’d stalked naked and dripping bubbles to the bed and collapsed there. Still wet. Her body too tired to move, muscles finally feeling a little better.
But her mind continued to race, sleep refusing to allow her refuge.
Moaning, she put her arm over her face, covering her eyes. She needed rest. Peaceful rest. Rest not haunted by dreams and need.
A knock thumped at the door. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was late, past one in the morning. She ignored it. Maybe it was the wrong room and they were looking for someone else.
“Or maybe not,” she murmured when the knock came again, a little more insistent.
“Oh lord.” She sat up, her body protesting, then looked around for something to put on. Spotting nothing, she grabbed the sheet from the bed, wrapped it around her body and stalked begrudgingly to the door, yanking it open.
He stood there.
He stood on her threshold, one hand suspended to pound again, the other holding a tray, on it several bowls of cream.Links:
Woohoo, that is some hot stuff!
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~Author Jennifer Labelle~