Chapter Seven

Charlotte

I throw back the shot of tequila, savoring the contrast of the cool liquor with the slight burn it makes as it slides down my throat. Although I’d felt more like myself after a hot shower, and even better after walking on the beach with Liam, the soothing steamy bubbles of the hot tub have eased the last traces of my stress, leaving me boneless and almost carefree, a feeling I’m not used to under the best of circumstances. Ironic, I know. Although the tequila might be helping too.

My gaze falls on the knife that Liam set down on the small wooden table, bringing me back to reality. God sure does have a sense of humor. The cautious girl—the one who planned for every possible scenario to keep everything in her life under control—is stuck in the middle of the jungle in another country without a passport, money, sunscreen, or many clothes. Things couldn’t be more out of control! I’m being hunted by the most powerful and brutal drug cartel in said country, possibly the world, while helping the guy who screwed them over. There’s two of us against hundreds of them. It’s only a matter of time before they catch up with us. And when they realize we don’t have either the guns or the money…

Slowly, realization dawns. My epiphany at the hacienda came too late. Thanks to Liam, I got out of there alive, but I’m still going to die. There’s no time left for the life I planned in that dark moment, locked in a room by the cartel. There’ll be no chance to do all those things now. All I have is the present. I look at Liam—looking dangerous and oh-so-sexy as he pours me another shot of tequila. I can’t bungee jump or go to Italy, but I sure as hell can have the best sex of my life—again—before it’s over.

If I only have a few weeks left to live, I’m going to make them count. If I’m going out, I’m going out in style. Starting with Liam…

He’s fun and funny. Easygoing and easy to be with. Sexy and sensual. Dominating and dominant in a way that makes me feel small and safe. I certainly wouldn’t want that long-term. But what the hell! For the next few hours, days, or weeks—whatever time we have left—I’m going to enjoy every damn minute of it. I want to grab it all while I have the chance.

The hard part is going to be convincing him. Sure he’s flirted with me, and there was that amazing kiss on the beach…well, amazing to me. He’d just been playing a role.

I’m a realist; I know I’m not Liam’s type. I’m too uptight, too restrained. But he was interested that weekend in Playa. When I let loose and didn’t second-guess everything or try to plan it all out—that’s when I got Liam. If I did it once, I can do it again. I just need a few more shots of tequila…

Unencumbered by my usual reserve, I find myself flirting with him easily. And my God but it’s gratifying to see him squirm a little. When I take the lime from him and suck on it erotically, his eyes darken the way I remember that night in Playa. Maybe it will be fun to mess with him a little, give him back a little of his own, since he doesn’t remember any of that weekend. When I suggest we get drunk, he says, “Miss Always-in-Control wants to lose it a little?”

Hell yes, I do! I look him straight in the eye and throw his motto right back at him. It’s mine now. “Never underestimate the power of fuck it.”

After we’ve both taken another shot of tequila, I say, “You promised to feed me chocolate cake.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I look up at him from beneath my lashes in a way that I hope is seductive. “Is that so?”

He takes another sip of tequila, never taking his eyes from me. “Absolutely.” He removes the plastic from the plate and breaks off a small piece of cake, holding it up to my lips.

I open my mouth, and he gently places the cake on my tongue. It’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever tasted—the sweet, creamy frosting the perfect balance to the rich, moist cake. I close my eyes and moan softly, savoring the decadent flavor of dark chocolate.

“Keep your eyes closed.” Liam’s voice is low.

Obeying, I keep them closed, opening my mouth for more. He puts another bite of cake in my mouth, and I close my lips over his fingers, sucking them sensually as I take the cake. This time, he’s the one groaning with pleasure, and the sound sends warmth shooting straight to my sex.

I open my mouth again, but this time he places the glass to my lips and tips it, giving me a sip of the chilled tequila. I swallow, then lick my lips, waiting for another bite of cake. The seconds tick by and I shift uncomfortably. What is he doing? Despite my newfound streak of abandon, at heart I’m still a control freak, and I feel a little unnerved not knowing what’s going on in that diabolical brain of his.

“Liam, I—” My eyes fly open as I move forward and collide with the piece of cake that was hovering near my mouth, the frosting smearing on my chin.

He tsks, his dark chuckle throaty. “You can’t give up an ounce of control even for a second, can you?”

“Of course I can.”

“Then keep your eyes closed. No matter what.” There’s that sexy hint of authority in his voice again, and my stomach tightens in response. My eyes flutter shut as I silently count to ten, willing myself not to move.

His mouth on my chin is warm, his lips soft as he half kisses, half licks the frosting from my skin. He dabs more chocolate on my cheek, and again, his mouth follows. There’s a delicious heat uncurling in my belly, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Closed!”

I squeeze my eyes more tightly shut. “No problem.” It takes everything in me to sound nonchalant. This time the frosting lands on my neck, and a little shudder of pleasure dances up my spine as his mouth presses against my neck. He keeps his mouth there longer than necessary, sucking lightly, and I fight to stay still.

He smears more frosting over the top swell of my breast exposed by my bikini top, and I inhale as he swirls his tongue languidly over the sensitive skin. Just as I start to relax into the sensation, he nips lightly. I squeal.

“Mmmmm.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “I want to hear that again.”

His mouth descends on my other breast and I unwittingly arch up to him. He growls in response and sinks his teeth into me. My eyes fly open in surprise. His are so close, I can see the rim of darker blue around his iris. The corners are crinkled and there’s the hint of a smile on his lips. “Do I need to blindfold you?”

“That sounds…interesting,” I manage to say.

“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t last a minute.”

I’m about to protest, to dare him to do it, but before I can say anything, he clears his throat and moves away from me. “We should cool off,” he says matter-of-factly. “You’re sticky. Hold still.”

He splashes warm water over my already heated skin. No! I want to stomp my foot with frustration. Just when things were starting to get good! He obviously still thinks I’m not capable of letting go, of being the kind of girl he likes. Well, he thought wrong!

Emboldened by the tequila and the recklessness that comes from knowing I have nothing to lose, I stand up and step out of the hot tub. “You’re right. We should definitely cool off.” I walk over to the plunge pool, then turn back to look at him. He’s still sitting in the hot tub, watching me with hooded eyes, arms outstretched on either side. “You going to join me?”

He stands up, the water streaming in rivulets from his Adonis-like body, then walks over to where I’m standing near the edge of the pool.

I run my fingers lightly over his chest. It’s smooth, with just a smattering of coarse blond hair. I circle his nipples, smiling as he breathes deeply through his nostrils. We’re close enough now that I can feel his breath and see his pupils dilate as his gaze drops, raking over me. I trail my fingers lower, skimming the waistband of his shorts. “Your turn. Close your eyes.”

He does as I say, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Emboldened by a heady sense of power, and loving the effect my touch seems to have on him, I run my fingertips lightly down his side and over his stomach. Those beautiful abs tighten in response, and I swear I can see his cock twitch. Oh yeah, it’s good to have the upper hand with Liam Prescott.

I lean in to kiss him, but at the last minute, a little streak of the devil gets into me and instead, with my hand flat on his chest, I push him backward into the pool. He surfaces a minute later, slicking back his hair with the palm of his hand. There’s a grin on his face as he beckons me to join him.

Feeling bold and powerful, I dive into the water.

“What was that for?” he says when I surface next to him.

“Payback is hell. You going to tame me?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tempt me.” It comes out as a growl, and my stomach drops to my toes. I hesitate, wondering if I have the nerve to go through with this.

I reach behind me and untie my bikini top, letting it float away. Liam’s smile has faded, and there’s heat in his eyes as he watches me. Slipping my thumbs into the sides of my bikini bottom, I take a deep breath and shimmy out of them, never taking my eyes off Liam.

There’s no turning back now. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine. He gives me exactly what I’d hoped for, meeting the passion that’s been simmering in me all day with a brutal ferocity of his own. Our mouths fuse together wildly—teeth nipping, tongues tangling and exploring like we’ve been starving. I suck his tongue into my mouth and he groans, then pulls away, his hands on my shoulders.

“Damn Charlotte. What game are you playing?”

“No game. I’ve changed my mind.”

“About?”

“The no-strings-attached, best-sex-of-my-life offer.”

“You’re drunk.”

“A little. But not too drunk to know what I want. I want you. I want this.” I put my hand over the bulge in his swimsuit and it pulses. His cock is rock hard. “Tame me,” I whisper. “If you can.”

He rakes his fingers through his damp hair, his face tortured. “Fuck. There is nothing I want more right now. But I can’t give you anything more than this. I’m on borrowed time. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Or the day after that.”

“I know. Me neither. That’s exactly why I want this. Need it! We’re both on borrowed time. I want to feel alive. Besides, I told you…I don’t believe in relationships. I don’t want anything more than this. But we’re here in paradise tonight. I want to lose control,” I whisper.

He stares intently at me, obviously torn between taking what I’m offering and worrying about hurting me. Just my luck that the world’s biggest playboy decides to have an attack of scruples now.

I turn away from him slightly. “But I understand if you’re scared you won’t measure up after all that talk. The bar is pretty high.”

“You are a brat.” With a throaty growl, his lips are on mine again, his strong hands cupping my buttocks as he lifts me up against him so I can wrap my legs around his waist. I kiss him back, hard. The rough edge of the small pool against my back catches me by surprise. With his body holding me pinned against the wall, he cups my breast with his hand, brushing one callused thumb across the nipple. My breasts feel tight and heavy, and when he takes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinches it, I groan for more.

“God, I’ve been dreaming of this. Of making you squirm with need. Of seeing that look in your eyes.”

He lowers his head and laves my aching nipple with his tongue, flicking it until my back bows and my head lolls back in pleasure, caught up in the sensation. His lips close around the engorged tip, and he alternately sucks and swirls it with his tongue until my ass is wiggling against the smooth tile of the wall, my sex grinding against his hard length. With his fingers tugging on one nipple, his teeth lightly clamp over the other one and I inhale sharply. Wondering if he’ll remember. Wondering if I want him to, or if it’s better to just live in the moment and have the chance to experience it all again.

He lets go long enough to say, “Shh. Don’t move,” before taking it between his teeth again.

I try not to—I really do. But after a few seconds, I’m certain I can’t take it anymore. The anticipation is killing me. I try to squirm away, but his body is pressing me harder against the wall.

“Liam, I—” I squeal as he bites down harder. My clit is throbbing with need.

I can feel his lips curve into a smile against my breast. “Fuck, that is becoming my favorite sound in the world.” He releases me, his gaze hot as he looks down at me. His fingers skim down my sides.

In one fluid motion, he lifts me out of the water and sets me on the tiled edge of the pool. With authoritative hands, he opens my knees and steps in between my legs, filling the space and overwhelming me with his nearness. His face is right in front of my sex, and suddenly embarrassed, I try to close my legs. He’s having none of that. He spreads me apart like he owns me, holding my legs open with firm hands as he slowly trails his tongue up the inside of my thigh. It’s pointless to resist, and I don’t want to anyway.

He kisses his way up my inner thigh, occasionally lightly nipping the tender skin, and I hold my breath as he gets closer and closer to my clit, which feels like it’s going to explode. Then, to my utter frustration, he moves to my other knee and works his way up again, his tongue hot against my cooled skin.

“Oh God. Please,” I whisper.

“That’s my girl. Let me hear you beg.”

I shake my head vehemently. I have standards. But he’s placing kisses along the top of my mound now, and I find myself chanting a mantra of pleas in my head. My sex is pulsing and he’s barely touched me. It’s been a long time…six months to be exact, and I curse myself for not finding someone else since then. But everyone would have paled in comparison. He’d irrevocably staked his claim on my body as surely as if he’d branded me.

I grip his hair with desperate fingers, thrusting my pelvis toward the paradise that I know is his mouth. “Liam…for the love of God. Please.” I glance down to see him grinning up at me, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having. Still holding my gaze, he deliberately places his tongue on my slit and begins to lap slow and easy. The sensation, the view, the buildup—my clit is throbbing. He kicks it up a notch, using the tip of his tongue to tease my clit.

I’m trying desperately to stay in control but it’s no use. My breath is ragged, my moans getting louder with each flick of his tongue. I feel that familiar tingling between my legs as everything gathers, seeking release. My thighs are quivering, but he holds them open as he tongues me closer and closer to the point of no return. With a loud cry, my back arches and I convulse onto his mouth.

“That was pretty good,” I say, once I’ve had a chance to catch my breath. “Almost as good as the last guy.”

“Who says I’m finished?” With his hand on my chest, he pushes me back so I’m lying flat, the tile cold against my back, my bottom at the edge of the pool and my feet dangling in the water. He drags me closer to him as his mouth descends on my sex again.

“Oh God. I can’t. I—”

He ignores me. He just grips my hips with his powerful forearms, his clasped hands resting on my stomach to hold me immobile as he dives back in. He’s relentless, licking and sucking and kissing and teasing, and my hips circle violently, my head thrashing from side to side from the mind-blowing pleasure of it all. I come again with great heaving shudders, but he doesn’t stop. He just takes me to the pinnacle again, and this time I come even faster.

“Fuck. Me,” I manage to say the third time, barely able to breathe. He’d done the same in Playa—made me come with his mouth and tongue, but this time it’s different. That night, he’d given me orgasms. Tonight, he’s taking them. And the distinction is extraordinary.

He laughs, a low throaty chuckle, as he reaches up to caress my breast.

“No, seriously. Fuck me. Here. Now.” I should be sated, languid with satisfaction from the best orgasm of my life, but my need to feel him inside me, to take him into me, is overwhelming.

He arches an eyebrow at me. “Does demanding to be fucked usually work with the guys you take to bed?”

“Of course,” I lie smoothly. There’s no way I’m admitting to him there haven’t been a lot of guys in my bed ever, and none since him. “My pleasure. My terms.”

He actually has the audacity to laugh! “My cock. My rules,” he counters with a grin. “You said you wanted to lose control. Did you mean it?”

Oh God. “Yes.”

“Then hand over the power to me to pleasure you my way. Trust me to know how you need to be taken.”

His words have me aching to see just what he thinks I need. And seeing the heat in his eyes, I realize I was right. This is how to get Liam. And my God but I want him, and everything he’s offering. No control. The thought is mesmerizing.

“Okay,” I whisper.

In one fluid move, he hauls himself out of the pool and stands over me, the water dripping from his body. He doesn’t bother with a towel. He just strips off his swim trunks, revealing the most beautiful cock I’ve ever laid eyes on—thick and hard and delicious looking. Without warning, he scoops me up off the ground into his arms, and holding me close to his chest, carries me through the open doors into the bedroom. It’s dark, but the fairy lights and the flickering glow of candles on the terrace lend an air of romantic, isolated otherworldliness. He sets me down on the large canopied bed and turns to grab a towel, quickly drying himself off. I sit back on my heels, watching with fascination as he rummages through the nightstand drawer. “Damn. No condom.”

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill. There’s no way I’m leaving something that important to chance!”

He laughs and tosses the towel on the floor. “Of course not.”

I worry briefly that a guy like him might have STDs, but he has been in a coma for months. I waver as he kneels next to me on the bed. His finger circles my breast and I inhale sharply. Why do I care? We probably won’t make it out of here alive anyway.

“This other guy—the one who’s toppling from the number one spot tonight—tell me how he fucked you. Did he make love to you slow and sweet and easy?”

“Mmm,” I purr, taking a perverse pleasure in goading him, especially since he doesn’t know the “other guy” was him. “Worried you won’t measure up?”

He doesn’t look worried at all. In fact, he looks downright cocky, and it’s hot as hell.

“Nope.” He fists his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my throat. He kisses my neck gently, nibbling softly before feathering light kisses up along my jawbone. “Is that how you like it? Slow and sweet and easy?”

I moan with pleasure, but I don’t answer. It is, but not tonight. Tonight I want him hot and desperate and so turned on that nothing’s going to deter him, and especially not me.

As if reading my mind, his fingers tighten in my hair and he yanks my head back, then sinks his teeth into my shoulder. I squeal from surprise more than pain, although there’s a tinge of that too. “Or do you like it rough and hard and out-of-control?” he rasps.

I’d seen hints of this side of him in Playa—the way he’d intertwined his fingers with mine, moved them over my head and held them there while he sunk his cock into me and how he’d lightly gripped my throat as he kissed me—but nothing like this full-on dominant, raw, carnal side I see in him tonight. He’d clearly held back with me that night. Somehow this version of Liam is even hotter, and I crave giving him my body without reservation. Even if, or maybe especially because, I’m sort of terrified.

“That,” I manage to say. I want it dirty and primal and fierce. I want Liam, uncensored.

He rises up on his knees, his hand cupped around my chin bringing me with him, and he kisses me. There’s nothing sweet about it. He forces my mouth open with his thumb pushing against my chin so his tongue can snake languidly into my mouth, leaving little doubt who’s in charge. It’s not me, and I fall into the kiss like a woman drowning.

Abruptly, he spins me around, takes my hands, and physically slams them on the wall behind the head of the bed, his hard chest pressing against my back as he holds me there. Oh God. This is hot as hell.

“Keep them there.” He lets go and trails his hands up the length of my arms, his fingertips raising little goose bumps of pleasure and quickening my pulse. I don’t dare let go. He gathers my hair into his hand, wraps it around his wrist, and bites the nape of my neck. I shiver deliciously. With a guttural growl, he tugs my head back and kisses me again. Actually, that’s not the right word. This time, he fucks my mouth—violently and wildly—his lips demanding my full acquiescence.

When he’s done with my mouth, he squeezes my ass roughly and gives it a slap. It’s not a spank, exactly. More a reminder that he’s in charge, and I better not forget it. I intend to protest a little, just for show to make sure he knows I won’t give in without a fight, but then his hands are on my breasts, kneading them roughly, and I forget everything else. He knows I’m too far gone to stop and he has every intention of taking advantage of it.

He reaches around me and slowly slides two fingers forward over my mound, stroking over my clit before slipping them into my slick opening. I moan. He starts moving them in and out, slowly at first, and then faster, until he’s finger-fucking me so hard, the bed slams into the wall with each thrust. I keep my hands where he placed them on the wall. It’s a necessity to hold myself steady, but it also gives him implicit consent, and unrestrained access to my body. It’s heady as hell.

His lips near my ear keep up a steady commentary, telling me precisely all the things he intends to do to me. Every filthy word makes me wetter.

And his hands… I’ve never felt this kind of pleasure before. His fingers are driving into me vigorously, and with each forward thrust of his hand, he stimulates my G-spot with his finger and my clit at the same time with his palm. My thighs are shaking with the effort of keeping my legs open for him, and the buildup to another hard climax. I cry out, close to shattering.

“Shh,” he whispers. There’s a world of power in the simple command. It’s definitely a warning to be quiet—after all, the windows are still open—but it’s also “I’m in control” and “Do what I tell you.” But he doesn’t stop. He goes and goes and goes, still holding me by the hair until I come violently with a scream.

Without giving me even a minute to recover, he flips me onto my back and yanks me to the edge of the bed where he’s now standing, his thickly veined cock sticking straight out and ramrod hard.

“You sure you want this, baby?”

I nod vehemently. I’m too strung out on pleasure to string together any sounds that might sound like words.

He again takes both of my wrists in one of his hands and very deliberately places them over my head. Then he grabs my hips and pulls me farther off the edge. I panic, afraid I’m going to fall. He smiles and drags me closer, past the edge, so I’m completely at his mercy. “Shh.” That command again, reminding me to let go.

He grabs my ankles and pulls my legs up and out so I’m spread open for him. Then he oh so slowly slips his magnificent cock into me, inch by beautiful inch until I’m filled and stretched with the achingly wide breadth of him. With a groan, I try to move, to take him deeper, make him fuck me, but he holds me immobile, his stronger body pinning mine.

“Tell me you want it. I need you to say the words.”

“I want you, Liam. I want you to fuck me. Rough. Hard. No holds barred. Take me over the edge with you this time.”

He slides out a little, then slams back into me. “Like this?”

“God. Yes. Deeper. Harder.” He punctuates each of my words with a fuckstroke, each one more forceful than the last. He handles me roughly, manipulating my body for his pleasure. His hands, just above my knees, firmly hold my slightly bent legs up and apart as he finds his rhythm, and he pumps his cock in and out of me. My body moves with his in an orchestrated dance as old as time, my breasts bouncing with each thrust, driving me toward that point of mindless need again.

The whole world could end right now and I wouldn’t notice. I’m too caught up in the sensation, reeling from pleasure. Nothing exists but him filling me, and his words that have my pussy clenching more tightly around him…utterances of “good girl” and “that’s it” and “hold on, I’m going to fuck you harder.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh. I’m going to come.”

“No, baby. Not yet. Give me more.”

“But—” My words fade as his lips fuse with mine.

The words bring back an onslaught of memories, but they dissipate as need collides with sensation. Just when I think it can’t get any better, he pushes my legs up higher, practically folding me in half, and drives into me again. Now, with each stroke, he hits my G-spot and I whimper. His palm covers my mouth, forcing me to focus on his words and those final sharp, deep thrusts that will carry us both over the edge.

He’s in full-on dominant mode, pressing me tightly to him so he can feel every throb of my sex as I clench around him. I can feel him tense up, increasing his speed until, with a loud grunt and an “oh fuck yes,” he thrusts one more time and comes inside of me as I shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.