The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ began as a walk on the beach. The air was warm and a full moon hung low in the sky, lighting their way. They didn’t say much. Just strolled quietly side by side. Then Dillon suggested they walk to the village for a drink, and alcohol in any form sounded pretty good to her.

      When they got there they found themselves in the middle of a Mexican carnival. Colorful lanterns and twinkling lights lined the street, and the air was scented with a mouthwatering combination of sugar and spicy fried food.

      They snacked on authentic Mexican treats, drank salty margaritas and danced to a live salsa band. The evening was a blur of bodies, bumping and grinding, laughter and fun. Ivy couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt more relaxed and…alive. Hadn’t it always been that way with Dillon? The man excelled at having a good time.

      It was well after midnight when they headed back to the villa. They were halfway there before she realized Dillon was holding her hand. She’d obviously been impaired by the alcohol, because she liked the way it felt. She didn’t pull away. Not even when they went inside. If someone saw them that way, they could get the wrong idea. Or may be it was the right idea. Either way it could get very messy and complicated for both of them. But mostly for her.

      It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that after everything they had been through, after all the pain he’d caused her, Ivy still wanted him this much. Of all the possible men in the world, why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one?

      It was dark and still in the villa. Probably everyone else was already in bed. As he walked her up the stairs, disappointment began to tug at her insides.

      She didn’t want this night to end. She wanted to make this last, to feel happy just a little while longer. She didn’t want to fall asleep and wake knowing that it wouldn’t happen again.

      She wanted to invite him into her room. She wanted him naked in her bed. One last time before they said goodbye forever.

      That was a terrible idea. She should be trying to figure things out, not make them worse. And being caught sleeping with her ex would definitely make things worse.

      Ivy would never hear the end of it from her mother. There was nothing she loved more than reminding Ivy of the mistakes she’d made, and finding new ones to nag her about.

      So the decision that suited her best interest was to say good-night and go to sleep.

      When they reached her bedroom door, she turned to him. To tell him she’d had a good time, and she was glad they could part from this vacation on better terms. Heck, may be they could even be friends. But before she knew what was happening, Dillon was kissing her. And even worse, she was kissing him back. Not just your run-of-the-mill making out, either. They were ravaging each other, as if they were battling over who wanted it more.

      His mouth still on hers, he backed her into the room and shut the door. She couldn’t comprehend much over the moans and breathless sounds she had begun making, but she was pretty sure she heard the lock turn. Then Dillon was walking her backward. She wasn’t sure where until the backs of her thighs collided with the mattress.

      She was vaguely aware that she was pulling at his clothes. She wanted skin. Didn’t matter where. Just something to put her hands on. She needed to put her hands on him.

      Before she could get his shirt pulled from the waist of his slacks, she was on her back lying sideways across the bed, her calves dangling over the edge. And she couldn’t touch Dillon because he had her wrists pinned over her head with one of his hands.

      Then he was kissing her, pushing her clothes out of the way so he had more area to explore. More to touch. Her stomach, her rib cage, and…oh! Her breasts. First through her bra, then he pushed that out of the way, too. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was thinking how small she was there, how he must have had much better, much bigger. Then she felt his mouth, hot and wet, and as long as he kept touching her, just like that, she didn’t care what size they were.

      She felt his hand on her thigh and the sensation was so foreign to her, so exquisitely intense, she gasped and jerked with surprise.

      Dillon stopped what he was doing and looked at her, his lids heavy. “Do you want me to stop?”

      Oddly enough, his asking was even worse than if he were to ravage her without her permission. If she didn’t take this opportunity to stop him, she would only have herself to blame. And at the same time, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking it would be worth every bit of grief it caused her.

      “Yes or no?” he asked, his eyes dark and intense. And she had no doubt that if she told him no, he would stop. No questions asked.

      “Don’t stop.”

      A hungry smile curled his mouth and the hand on her thigh began to slide upward.

      At that point she knew there was no turning back. It was a done deal. She was going to sleep with Dillon. She was going to have sex with her ex-husband.

      She really was crazy.

      His breath was hot on her skin as he nibbled and kissed his way down her body. Touching, tasting. His fingers slipped inside the leg of her shorts, brushing against her panties…

      At that point things began to get fuzzy. One minute her shorts were on, the next they had mysteriously disappeared. The same thing happened to her panties. Then Dillon was touching her. Slow, steady pressure. Warm and slippery.

      She closed her eyes and gave herself permission to relax and enjoy. How could she have thought she didn’t need this? How had she gone so long without a man’s touch?

      And no man knew her body the way Dillon did. No one made her feel as good. And what the hell was wrong with feeling good every now and then? Who better than a man who needed no road map to please her, who would never expect or want more than a very brief physical relationship? A fling.

      Without warning Dillon pressed her thighs open, lowered his head and took her into his mouth. The sensation was so wickedly intense she cried out. Her hands fisted in his hair and she was making sounds, raspy and nonsensical. She didn’t seem to have any control left. She was flying on autopilot, and about to crash and burn.

      Her breath was coming hard and fast, and the room slipped in and out of focus. Each individual sensation merged and tangled and fused together like the wick on a stick of dynamite, then it sparked and ignited.

      The flame hissed and licked its way up, building and climbing. And when it reached her core, she blew apart, splintered into a million pieces.

      She hovered there, somewhere between pain and pleasure, conscious and unconscious.

      It seemed as though she melted back together, one little piece at a time, slowly, gradually, her pulse returning to normal. When she finally opened her eyes, Dillon was there, leaning over her. Watching. Waiting for her to return from the outer stratosphere. Then he leaned down and kissed her. So gently, so sweetly.

      “I’ll see you later, Ivy.”

      Wait. What?

      Later?

      She sat up, still dizzy and a little disoriented. “Where are you going?”

      “My room.”

      “But…” They had just gotten started.

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