brushed her teeth and hair. Feeling almost calm, she returned to the bedroom and ventured out the door into the connected sitting area. A chocolate brown couch and recliner, with throw pillows sporting wildlife scenes similar to those in the bedroom, angled toward a wall housing a flat screen TV. On the far side of the room, beige carpet turned to the wood flooring of a kitchen. Past a short, two-stool bar, he stood with his back to her, doing something she couldn’t distinguish.
Claire could see his backside just fine though, and the teasing flash of navy underwear—boxers she was guessing all the way—past the low-slung waist of his jeans. The divine way the worn cotton of his jeans molded to his butt cheeks reminded her again just how long it had been since she copped herself a feel of nice, firm man ass.
She started over to the kitchen and, oh, the view just got better and better. Her fingers flexed and her sex gave a decadent flutter she hadn’t experienced in ages.
Seriously, no quack had a right to a back that broad and scrumptious looking.
Noting the two glasses of orange juice at the bar, she slid onto one of the stools and took a long drink. Whether it was the effect of all that gorgeous maleness on display, or a side effect of whatever she’d been given last night, she was seriously parched.
Setting the glass down, she observed, “You don’t look like a shrink.”
“I’m not.” He turned around with a heaping plate of omelet and hash browns in either hand, which made for an excellent frame for his pecs.
He wasn’t liable to have a shirtless tan in May and she couldn’t see him fake baking. The golden brown cast to his skin was an au natural stunning contrast to the dark blond hair dusting his chest and arms and the morning stubble scruffing up his jawline.
Coming around to her side of the bar, he set the plates down and slid onto the stool next to her. His body was close enough she could feel the heat radiating off it. See the delicious play of his muscles as he reached for his glass and brought it to his lips. Appreciate the hell out of his strong, sexy profile as he took a drink of juice.
The tantalizing scents of garlic and butter wafted up, splintering her thoughts, and her stomach gave a low rumble. Apparently, she was hungry for more than just a good, long screw.
“So what, you’re the prep guy?” Lifting the fork from her plate, she cut into the omelet. A mouthwatering melody of cheese-covered sausage and veggies oozed out. “You see that I’m well rested and fed for when the shrink arrives?”
“There’s no shrink on Ecstasy Island. I’m the only one responsible for curing you and my knowledge is about as far as you can get from a six-figure degree.”
She chewed a bite of omelet as she considered the words. Knowing he wasn’t going to make her feel welcome just to hand her off to some textbook quack definitely added to her comfort level. As for their location…When he’d mentioned the ocean, she’d assumed he’d taken her somewhere near her waterfront apartment. Really, it didn’t matter. Two miles down the road or two hundred or more miles away on an island, she wasn’t going to make it past his front door without freaking out.
Much preferring to focus on the conversation—and, okay yeah, his naked upper half a touch away—than thoughts of the outside world, she asked, “Why Ecstasy?”
He ate a forkful of hash browns before looking over. Where his attitude had been sedate from the moment he’d left her in the bedroom, lust was in his eyes now, alive and sizzling hot. “Let’s just say we believe in alternative healing.”
Warmth rushed through Claire with the implication. “Alternative?”
He gave a curt nod, his lips tipping up at the corners, and the air between them seemed to spark about ten degrees hotter. Jesus, she really needed to indulge her sex drive more often. Maybe next time she would agree to let Erin hook her up with a gigolo instead of the therapist type.
Or had her sister already as good as done that?
She shivered with the thought, not from fear but anticipation. “You mean sex?”
His gaze narrowed. “You don’t like sex, or why are you trembling?”
“I love sex.” Was even now considering just how good his cock would feel sliding into her when he swept aside their plates and glasses to do her on the bar.
As if he could read her mind, the heat returned to his eyes. His gaze shifted to her breasts, giving them another of those all-but-panty-evaporating leers. “Then what’s the problem, sweetheart?”
Her nipples peaked against the soft cups of her bra, answering the question without a sound. Since her famished pussy wasn’t likely to be the problem he had in mind, Claire improvised. “I’m a recluse who, up until last night, hadn’t set foot out of her apartment in months. Last night it was by coercion and, no doubt, some drug cocktail. What do you think the problem is?”
“The sedative you were given was very mild and all natural.” Teasing glinted in his eyes as they returned to hers, and a shallow cleft came out to play amidst his chin stubble. “A lot like the sex you love. The natural part, at least. You don’t strike me as a woman who goes for the mild, in bed or out of it.”
Something about his expression—maybe how wet it suddenly had her—made one thing clear. He might not have a degree in psychology, but he knew precisely how to get into a woman’s head…and panties. “You aren’t cheap, are you?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Depends who’s asking.”
Oh, yeah, he knew what he was about. “I mean your services. Erin, my well-meaning PITA of a sister, said your fees were minimal. That was a lie, wasn’t it? She paid a buttload to have me brought here.”
“Not that much so far.” His arm connected with hers at the shrugging of his shoulders, and the subtle brush was like the most intimate caress. He felt it, too; she could see the flicker of sensual awareness cross his face. “Ecstasy requires half pay up front,” he continued in a voice even raspier than usual. “If our client’s time on the island proves successful, the rest is due upon their return home. If they go home with the same fears they had when they came here, they don’t pay another dime.”
“Do you work on commission?”
“I get part of the half that’s paid after the fact.”
Bummer for him, he wouldn’t be getting it this time around. He might be good at his job, but it was highly doubtful he could erase the effects of The Incident in a matter of days or even weeks. Would it be so wrong to throw in a consolation prize to offset his monetary loss? Celebrate her first post-incident trip outside the apartment and the fact she’d lived to be upset with Erin about it by ending her sexual dry spell? This could be her only chance to have a lover this year.
Or the rest of her life…
Glum thought, yet reality. The kind of cold, hard, empty reality that made this sexy stranger and this stolen opportunity too tempting to pass up.
Going with the heat spiking in her core, Claire lifted her hand from where it rested on her thigh and put it into his lap. The impressive bulge of a not-quite-flaccid cock stroked against her knuckles. Any doubts she had vanished as delicious tingles erupted in her sheath.
She grinned expectantly. “So with me you’re counting on the sex being
