Private Paradise Read online

  They had a long night ahead of them, and Carla was definitely going to need her strength.

  Chapter 11

  After their snack, they radioed Chris again to let him know they were okay and had made it through the worst of the storm. Carla risked cracking open the sliding glass doors that led out to the beach.

  The normally turquoise waters were choppy and gray, and rain still fell in a heavy patter, but the deadly wind had lessened significantly. Carla, who had once again donned her robe, stepped out onto the wet sand, noting the branches and other debris that littered the normally pristine sugar sand beach.

  Her stomach went tight as she thought about the rest of the resort. How bad was it? Sam had said there was some flooding in the fitness center and roof damage to the main buildings. How much damage had the second half of the storm done?

  She didn't hear Sam walk up beside her, but even in the rain she could feel his warmth, smell the rich masculine scent of him over the salt of the sea. “I hope we don't have to close for long,” Carla said, her brain already kicking into gear, running the numbers, calculating the losses if they had to close for more than a few weeks.

  “No use worrying until we know how bad it is,” Sam said, and Carla was oddly gratified that he didn't try to placate her with meaningless assurances. “Let's go back inside. You're getting soaked out here.”

  Carla didn't move, her eyes locked on the beach. “Maybe we should take a walk, assess the damage,” she said.

  Sam moved behind her and put his big hands on her shoulders and kneaded at the tension already forming there. “There's plenty of time for that. It's still raining and getting close to sunset,” he said. “After twenty minutes, half an hour tops, we won't be able to see anything.”

  There was no hint of sun through the thick cloud cover, but a glance at her watch told Carla he was right. Though her mind was spinning with anxiety she knew wouldn't be allayed until she knew exactly what they were facing, she felt a guilty tremor of relief as she let Sam guide her back inside.

  Because she knew that as soon as they got back to business, this thing with Sam had to end. But until that time came, she was free and clear to indulge in every sensual pleasure his body offered. Free to pretend that he meant everything he said in the heat of the moment as he fucked her deep and hard.

  To even let herself go so far as to imagine what might have been had Sam not pulled out at the last minute. To imagine that maybe it wouldn't have been such a catastrophe after all.

  She could do all of this because this situation was so ridiculous, so impossible, it could hardly be counted as real. As long as they were stuck in this villa, it was like they were in their own world, a time out of time, a place that couldn't exist in her normal universe.

  With that in mind, Carla sat back on the couch and accepted the glass of wine Sam had poured, shoved away all thoughts of the harsh reality awaiting her, and determined to enjoy the hell out of every last second of their not so forced proximity.

  Momentarily sated, Sam pulled her to his side as he sipped his wine. Carla was relieved that he seemed content not to delve too deeply into their past or try to convince her that she shouldn't judge him by the person he used to be.

  Though some of the changes were obvious―his work in the army and success after retiring were testament to that. But that aside, it was impossible to believe Sam had changed that much on the inside, that the insatiable player suddenly strove to be an upstanding family man with two point five kids and a house in the suburbs.

  Impossible to believe that he'd spent one single second pining after her, lamenting Carla as the girl that got away.

  But if Sam wanted to play it that way, she thought, practically purring as his fingers combed softly through her hair, Carla would indulge in the fantasy for just a little longer.

  And she would also pointedly ignore the tiny, hidden corner of her heart that desperately wished to believe him.

  For the rest of the evening, Sam stayed clear of touchy subjects, instead asking her about her brother and mother back in Vegas. He then regaled her with stories of some of his wilder exploits in the army. Carla found herself alternately in hysterics at some of the pranks he and his buddies had pulled on each other, and horrified at the level of danger he'd been in.

  “It's part of the job,” Sam said, echoing his earlier sentiments when Carla expressed her shocked sympathy as Sam relayed how one of his best friends had been blown up in front of him.

  Carla shook her head. “That's what I say when my chef complains about having to cater to every single whacked out diet plan under the sun. When the vegan raw foodist acidentally gets a smear of butter on her plate, there's just a lot of screaming. Nobody gets blown up.”

  Sam's eyebrows pulled together as he looked down at her. “Vegan raw whatist? What the hell does that even mean?”

  A laugh bubbled out of her throat at his obvious confusion. “It's someone who not only consumes only plant based foods, nothing can be cooked above one hundred four degrees because it kills all the living enzymes and nutrients in the foods.”

  “You deal with a lot of whack jobs around here.”

  She snuggled closer to him, sleepy from the wine, and suddenly acutely aware that he was totally naked under his towel. “Yeah, well you better get used to it if you plan on sticking around here.”

  “Hell yeah, I plan on it,” Sam said, his voice pitching low like it did when he was turned on.

  Carla tried not to think about how she was going to deal with that, having him so close, yet knowing that letting their sexual relationship continue outside these four walls could only lead to disaster.

  She let Sam take her glass and set it next to his on the low table, tipped her face up to meet his lips, and didn't resist as he scooped her up into his arms to carry her back to the bedroom.

  ###

  Carla woke the next morning and was immediately aware of Sam's warm, muscular body tucked snugly behind hers. She'd fallen asleep this way, her back pressed tight against his chest, his arm firmly around her waist as though he was afraid she'd try to escape.

  God, this was good. Dangerously so. Yes, the sex with Sam was amazing, orders of magnitude beyond anything she'd ever experienced.

  But this...his warm skin pressed against hers, the way his big body curled around her as though he was protecting her even in sleep... She had a flash of waking up like this every morning, rolling over in his arms to meet his sleepy blue gaze full of love and desire...

  She nipped the fantasy in the bud, knowing in her gut he might feel one out of two of those emotions, and it sure as hell wasn't love.

  Despite her acceptance of reality, she felt the sting of tears behind her eyelids. She closed her eyes, tucked herself even more securely into his embrace and allowed herself a single moment to wish that things could somehow be different.

  She knew the moment he came awake, could feel it in the slight shift of his breathing and the tension in the arm around her waist. She sighed as Sam's fingers flexed against her stomach in a soft caress, felt a rush of heat as Sam shifted against her so his cock brushed against the curve of her ass.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, and her breath hitched at the feel of his mouth, open and hot against the skin of her shoulder.

  His hand shifted up to cover one breast, and she gave a soft moan as he circled and pinched her nipples. Everything about him turned her on, from the big hand on her breasts to the heat of his mouth against her shoulder and neck, his hair-roughened thighs brushing against hers as he slid one leg between hers.

  Her pussy was already drenched by the time his hand slid from her breasts to press against her sex. He parted her lips, slid his fingers on either side of her clit, up and down in a teasing caress.

  “God I love how wet you get for me,” he murmured, sliding his fingers lower, drawing another rush of moisture from her as she arched her ass against the heat of his throbbing cock.

  “Please, Sam,” she said, her body so tight w
ith desire she was afraid she was going to snap any second. She tried to turn to face him but he held her still.

  “No, stay just like this.”

  She turned her face in the pillow, a shudder of anticipation rippling through her as she heard the soft ripping sound, felt the brush of his hand against her ass as he rolled on a condom. He reached down, and she raised her top knee at his urging as she arched her back to receive him.

  Though she was so wet the skin of her inner thighs was slick, she let out a sharp whimper as the thick head of his cock pressed inside.

  He held himself there, no more than a couple inches inside. “You're sore, aren't you, baby?” he asked as he rained soft, soothing kisses along her shoulders.

  “A little,” she whispered. “I'm not used to...” She lost her train of thought as his fingers stroked over her clit. Despite the discomfort she felt her body clench tight around him, like it was trying to pull him deeper.

  “You're not used to having someone fuck you all day and all night?” he said with a teasing flick of his tongue against her earlobe.

  She let out a soft, helpless laugh. “Something like that.” Her laugh melted into a moan as his fingers continued to lavish attention on her clit.

  “Then I'll just have to make it my goal,” he said, rocking himself a little bit deeper as he gave her neck a love bite that sent a jolt of heat straight to her pussy, “to make sure that getting fucked long and hard, over and over again, becomes part of your regular routine.”

  Carla moaned and arched herself more firmly against him, trying to take him deeper even as her body stung at the thick invasion. Her heart thudded faster in her chest as she wondered what it would be like, to have him fuck her like this every day, every night.

  She had serious doubts she'd be able to survive it.

  “For now, we'll take it nice”―a soft grunt escaped his throat as he rocked even deeper―“and slow.”

  Finally, he was buried to the hilt, so deep she could feel the press of his balls against the curve of her ass. Carla felt stretched tight, dancing on the knife's edge of pleasure and pain as he held himself within her slick grip.

  Sam didn't move just held himself deep inside, as his fingers between her legs pulled the knot of desire tighter. His harsh breath against her neck and the thudding of his heart against her back were the only signs that he wasn't in complete control of himself.

  “Christ, your pussy feel so good,” he panted. “Every time I do this”―he took her clit gently between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a gentle pull, almost like he was milking her―“your pussy clenches around my cock, almost like it's trying to suck me deeper.”

  Carla gave a harsh moan as her body did exactly that, tightening around him until he felt impossibly big. He pulled at her again, and this time it was too much. Any awareness of discomfort disappeared on a shudder of need and she needed nothing more in that moment than the slick thrust and drag of him moving inside her.

  She rocked her hips back on him and reached back to grip his ass to urge him on. Sam, as always, knew exactly what she needed. Rolling her fully to her stomach, he urged her onto her elbows, knees spread wide and tucked under her as he knelt behind her.

  As he slid himself slowly, deeply back inside, she heard him whisper something she couldn't quite make out, but she thought maybe it was “beautiful.”

  And then she didn't care because he was moving, thrusting heavily in and out as she stifled her moans against the pillow. She felt her body tightening, rippling around him as her orgasm loomed closer and closer. Sam's hand reached down and around, found her clit with his long, strong fingers. One stroke sent her flying over the edge, her body shaking with the force of it.

  “God I love feeling you come around my cock,” Sam panted, as he stroked her through the last ripple.

  Then his hips were pumping, fast and hard. The sound of his hips slapping against her ass, his harsh groans filled the room. He held her hips in a tight grip as his body stiffened, and they both collapsed, panting to the mattress.

  Carla lay there in his arms, listening to his breathing quiet and his heartbeat slow as his hand stroked lazily up and down her back, in no hurry to leave the bed.

  But eventually Sam got up, used the bathroom, then left her with a quick kiss on her cheek and padded out to the kitchen.

  Carla pulled on her robe and followed. When she got out to the main room, she saw Sam's broad back and shoulders silhouetted against a window. He'd thrown open the storm shudders on the front of the villa, allowing buttery morning sunlight to stream in.

  “Looks like it's over.”

  Carla opened her mouth to agree, but the words got stuck in her throat as a stab of pain hit her, so sharp it stole her breath and made her knees shake. The storm was indeed over.

  And now, so were they.

  ###

  By that afternoon, Holley Cay was already bustling with activity. With the weather all clear, most of the staff returned to get to work on the cleanup as Carla, Sam, and Chris, who had come from the sister resort on his cabin cruiser, assessed the damage left by the storm.

  “It will take a few days to get electricity back on line,” Carla said as she read through the detailed notes she'd taken as they walked the property. They were seated around a table on the main restaurant's patio, taking advantage of the sunlight before they were relegated to reading by candlelight. “Contractors won't be able to make much progress until that happens.”

  “We can use that time to get estimates and get the insurance paperwork together,” Sam said.

  “Right,” Carla said with a brief smile and a nod in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes in the process.

  Under the table, Sam's hands gripped the seat of his chair. He was afraid if he let go he'd leap out of his seat, grab Carla's chin and force her to fucking look at him for the first time since they'd left the little villa that morning.

  “Sam, I didn't realize you'd gotten interested in the operations side,” Chris said. Though his smile was friendly enough, Sam didn't miss the way Chris’s gaze darted suspiciously between Carla and himself. “Something told me the two of you would make a good team.”

  Carla's hand froze in the middle of the note she was making. Her gaze lifted from the paper and she leveled a hard stare at him.

  Sam couldn't resist the opportunity to taunt her. “Oh, you wouldn't believe how well we worked together in the last twenty-four hours. You could even say we found a great balance of give and take, a perfect rhythm, if you will.” As he spoke, he brought one hand to the table top, idly stroking the smooth wooden surface with slow circles of his fingers.

  He felt a jolt of satisfaction as Carla's eyes locked on his hand He smiled at the telltale blush rising in her cheeks, the slight softening in her mouth and the way her eyelids drooped just a little as the memories flooded her as surely as they flooded him.

  Sam knew that despite the fact she'd closed herself off so completely the second they stepped outside the villa that she might as well be wearing a full suit of armor, there was no way Carla had been able to shut off the obvious passion she felt for him as completely as she wanted him to think.

  And now, thank God, he had his proof. Now all he had to do was find that chink in her armor and crack it wide open once and for all.

  When Chris excused himself to make a phone call, Carla stood abruptly and said, “I should go check on their progress in the kitchen,” and hurried off.

  Sam followed, stopping just inches behind Carla's stiff back which was clad in a t-shirt she'd retrieved from her place. “Looks like everything is still fine here,” Sam said over her shoulder. Earlier, the kitchen staff had cleared out and inventoried the cost of the spoiled food, and they were in the process of making the list of goods that would need to be restocked.

  Carla turned, that bright, fixed smile Sam had come to so detest his first week stretched tightly across her face. “You know Sam, I've been so grateful for your help―”

  He too
k a step closer, forcing her to back farther into the corner outside the kitchen door. “Don't tell me that's all you're grateful for, baby.”

  The smile disappeared in a tight line. “With Chris here to help me with everything, there's no reason for you to be involved. You've had a rough couple of days―”

  “And nights,” Sam said, repeating the step retreat routine. He knew he sounded like some cheesy soap opera lothario, but he couldn't help himself. It was too much fun watching Carla's cheeks light up with color, her dark eyes narrowing and snapping with life.

  “I need some space Sam,” she said, dropping all pretense of politeness. “It will be a lot easier for me to get this done without you breathing down my neck. So why don't you go rest up or something and Chris will tell you when we need you.”

  Sam bit back an angry retort and tried not to take offense. Carla was wary of him, and with good reason. He couldn't expect her to open up and give in, no matter how mindblowingly good they'd been together. “It's not my style to sit around with my thumb up my ass doing nothing when there's work to be done. Besides, the employee dorm was one of the buildings that was hardest hit. If I want to rest at all in the next few weeks, I'm going to have to find another space to stay.”

  Carla jumped as the kitchen door swung open and she gave a brief smile and nod over his shoulder to whoever it was. She turned her focus back to him. “I'm sure we'll be able to find a guest room that will work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find out where we are on gathering the belongings of the guests who were forced to evacuate.”

  When she would have brushed by, Sam caught her by the arm and gently, but firmly, pushed her back into the corner. Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he leaned in close and said, “I was figuring I could just come stay with you.”

  The kitchen door swung open again. Carla planted her hands against his chest and tried to shove him aside. “Will you please stop?” she hissed out between clenched teeth. “These people work for me, Sam. I can't have them seeing us like this.”