She felt the hard evidence of his arousal against her thigh and she moved her hand down, pressed her palm against his firm length and squeezed him gently.
A short curse fell from his lips and he captured her mouth again, bucking his hips against her hand, his control obviously as shredded as her own. She squeezed him again and she reveled in the low growl that rumbled in his chest. Always before when she’d imagined being intimate with a man, she’d imagined it meant giving him power over her. But what she hadn’t realized was just how much power she would have over him.
She moved her hand over the length of him, not quite able to believe just how thick and hard he felt. She hadn’t realized that men could be so big. And yet, there was no fear with that revelation, only a sensual thrill that rushed through her, making her feel light-headed, breathless.
Dimly Alison registered the chirpy tones of a cell phone. Despite the interruption, her hands continued to roam over him, to explore him, the everyday sound not quite able to penetrate the fog of desire that was totally clouding her ability for rational thought.
“Che cavolo.” Max swore and jumped away from her as though her touch burned him. He moved to the table where he’d placed his mobile phone and answered it in rough Italian, his chest rising and falling harshly with his breathing, the aggressive jut of his arousal pushing visibly against the thin fabric of his shorts.
Alison’s heart was pounding hard in her ears. Very slowly she started to come back to reality. She could feel the heat of the sun, the salt breeze … hear seagulls screaming at each other down on the beach. She had just about made love with a man outside. Correction: she had been in the process of making love with him even if they hadn’t been quite to the point of actual intercourse. And any of the household staff members could have come out and seen them, caught them in the act.
She crossed her arms over her breasts, acutely aware of her nudity. Before it had seemed freeing, so nice not to have anything between her and Max. Now it just seemed embarrassing. She didn’t feel sexy anymore. She just felt bare, exposed.
She fished her swimsuit top from beneath the chair and turned her back to Maximo, who was still engaged in his phone conversation, tying her top back on with shaking hands, her clumsy fingers taking twice as long to get herself covered again. She picked up the towel and knotted it fiercely at her breasts, craving all the cover she could get. She took advantage of Maximo’s distraction and sneaked quietly back into the villa. She was not hanging around for another postmortem on an aborted make-out session.
More importantly, she wasn’t going to risk being there if he wanted to pick up where they left off because, despite the healthy dose of humiliation she was suffering from, she wasn’t certain she would be able to resist him.
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