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  Rick stood and untied his board shorts, let them drop to the ground, and stepped out of them. He grabbed a condom and put it on, then lay on the towel, bringing Lisa down with him. She straddled him, giving him one hell of a sexy view of her pussy as she slid down on his hips. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest as she kissed him, rubbing her pussy against his cock, his balls, all that sweet moisture coating him before she pulled back, grabbed his shaft, and lifted herself up to glide over him, enveloping his cock with excruciatingly slow movements. It was so sweet to watch her face as she gripped him, moved against him, rocking back and forth, each time gliding over his balls and making him clench his teeth as he held back.

  He reached for her hips, needing to hold her, to feel her flesh and grab on to her as she rode him. The sun shined down on them both, making them sweat, slick, easy for Lisa to slide over him. She laughed at their stickiness, seeming to thoroughly enjoy the ride. He enjoyed watching her, seeing the light in her eyes, the way her breasts swayed with every movement, the way her fingers curled against his skin whenever her clit dragged against him. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, concentrating on her pleasure—exactly what he wanted her to do, because if it was good for her, it was damn great for him.

  He rose up, driving harder into her, and she gasped, dug down deep, and ground against him, giving him back what he gave to her. She leaned forward, curling her back up like a cat’s as she slid over his chest to grab on to his shoulders, then rode him, driving her pussy down over his cock until he was at her mercy.

  “Christ, Lisa.” He dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips now as he held on tight, letting her guide their movements, giving her free rein to do as she pleased. She was a wildcat, immersed in her own pleasure, lifting up and slamming down against him. He knew she was close, felt her tightening, convulsing around him. She surged forward, took his mouth in a wild kiss, biting him, sucking on his tongue, groaning into his mouth. When she came, he knew it because she cried out into his mouth, and he let go then, too, holding her tight against him as he surged upward, flooding come as wave after wave jettisoned from deep inside him in incontrollable bursts.

  Spent and panting, they lay together in sweaty silence for a few moments. God, he couldn’t move, every part of his body drained.

  “Ugh. I’m a mess,” she finally said, lifting her head from his chest to smile at him. “How about a swim?”

  “Great idea.”

  They cooled off in the sea, guzzled down bottled water, then collapsed on the beach chairs.

  “That was nice,” Lisa said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Sex is . . . a lot different now than it used to be.”

  He slanted his gaze in her direction. “In what way?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Before we were just kids. Experimenting and kind of new at the whole thing, so we really didn’t know what we were doing. Now there’s more . . . finesse. And it’s a lot more intense.”

  He knew why. At least from his perspective. But he wanted her to figure it out on her own.

  “Yeah, it’s intense all right. But I always thought sex between us was good.”

  “You’re a guy. You think any sex is good sex.”

  He laughed. “Spoken like a true woman.”

  She shifted in the chair and half turned toward him. “Isn’t that true, though? At least with men?”

  “No.”

  “Men can have bad sex?”

  “Honey, there’s great sex, there’s average sex, and there’s lousy sex. A guy can tell. Trust me, we prefer great sex.”

  “What’s lousy sex?”

  “Barbie pussy.”

  She spit out a deep laugh. “Barbie pussy?”

  “When a woman just lies there stiff and doesn’t move. You know, like a Barbie doll. As if she expects the guy to do all the work. Then he’s supposed to be grateful that she’s allowed him to get some, so that should be good enough.”

  “Oh.” She snorted. “I could see how that wouldn’t be very enjoyable.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, sometimes no sex is better than sex with someone who isn’t really involved.”

  “Have you . . . had sex with someone like that?”

  How much was he supposed to reveal? They’d never discussed their sex lives during the years they’d been divorced. But if he had any hopes of reconciling with Lisa, he owed it to her to be honest. “Yeah, I have.”

  He expected her to be pissed. Instead, she wrinkled her nose. “Yuk.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Have you had the other kind?”

  “What other kind?”

  “You know . . . the great kind.”

  “Yeah. A couple times.”

  She turned again, this time staring out over the water instead of looking at him. “Kayla never told me about anyone you were dating. She was always very discreet.”

  “Kayla never met anyone I was dating.”

  She snapped her gaze to his. “Why not?”

  “Because I never went out with anyone seriously enough or long enough to introduce them to our daughter.”

  “Oh.”

  “Lisa, having sex with someone doesn’t make a relationship.”

  “But if you had great sex, wasn’t that worth . . . exploring a relationship?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Why not?”

  “They weren’t you. They’ve never been you, Lisa.”

  Eight

  Lisa stepped out of the shower and dried her hair, her mind preoccupied with everything that had happened. It had been one hell of an eventful few days, both physically and emotionally.

  After that day at the private beach with Rick, something had changed between them. Maybe it was what he’d said about the other women he’d been with, that he’d never formed attachments with any of them because they hadn’t been her. She’d changed the subject immediately, because the topic had been careening toward a road she didn’t want to head down—overwhelming and heavy. She wasn’t ready yet.

  Not just yet anyway. It was all too much to take in, and she and Rick were having fun together. That was all she could handle at the moment.

  Just being with him—alone with him—was a whirlwind enough. She had been besieged with sensation. Being with him one on one without interruption, not having Kayla as the main topic between them, forcing them to be just a twosome again. That hadn’t been the case since they were very young. This was entirely new territory for her—for both of them. It was like starting all over again, but with someone she was very familiar with.

  Yet being with Rick was brand new, too. Everything about him was different now. She supposed she was completely different, too. So many years had passed, they had both learned so much, changed completely, had more life experience to bring to the table. They really were two different people now than when they’d been together as kids.

  A brand-new relationship with the same old couple. A couple who had been together, yet apart, for over twenty years. Now if that wasn’t confusing as hell, what was?

  They’d spent the past few days simply playing together. They’d snorkeled, swum, taken boat rides, shopped, and toured Saint Thomas. She’d probably taken two hundred pictures of all the architecture. Rick had been a wonderful companion, patient and indulging in everything she’d wanted to do. She couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be with. And he really seemed to enjoy every activity, seemed to love exploring the buildings and the towns, taking all the tours and soaking up the local atmosphere. They were in sync—well, except for the shopping, but what man enjoyed that anyway? She knew she wasn’t merely dragging him along, that he was having as much fun as she was. And every moment spent with him made her realize how much she’d missed . . . being with him.

  That was the problem, had always been the problem. She never wanted to be with anyone else. But was that because of Rick, or because Rick was safe, a known factor in her life?

  “Ugh,” she said, staring into the mirror
. “Stop thinking so much.” She had to get ready for their date tonight and she was running out of time. Rick was in the other bathroom, and here she was musing on . . . what the hell was she musing on anyway? Everything and nothing, as usual. Overthinking everything, of course, just like she always did. She made herself crazy.

  She dried her hair, put makeup on, then pulled the sides of her hair back and affixed a jeweled clip at the crown of her head. Fancy, but not overdone. She liked it. Now she had to get dressed. Rick had told her they were going to dinner, then to a club to go dancing and to do some gambling. She decided to dress up, and she had just the outfit in mind, something Connie had insisted she buy. It was a bit over the top for her tastes, but Connie had sworn Lisa looked knock-’em-dead sexy in it, so she figured that would be the outfit to wear.

  She went to the closet and pulled out the dress. A royal blue satin, it was one piece of skin-tight, lace-up, made-for-sin heaven. The bodice was strapless, shirred under the bust in front and boned in corset fashion that ended just at her hips, with crisscross laces in the back. Fun. The rest of the dress flowed down into a pencil skirt that hugged every one of her curves, with slits on both sides of her thighs, the material ending just at the knee. She had silver strappy stiletto heels to complete the look. When she’d tried it on at the store, she couldn’t believe how the corset molded to her curves, drew her less-than-ample breasts upward, making her look like she had serious cleavage, and the rest of the dress was dynamite. Plus the color was perfect for her. She had to admit, Connie was right. It was as if the dress had been made just for her. She loved it.

  She didn’t want Rick to see her in it until she was fully dressed, but she needed help with the laces, so she dialed housekeeping and one of the ladies was up there in a flash to help her. Fortunately, Rick was busy in the other room and didn’t even notice when she let the woman in. The woman smiled and was more than happy to lace up the back of the corset. Lisa tipped her when she was done, then sucked in a breath as she surveyed the finished product in the mirror.

  Not bad. Not bad at all. With the corset laced tight, it molded close to her body, accentuating every curve. She slipped on her shoes, added silver earrings and a bracelet, and she was ready. She opened the door and found Rick standing in the living room, dressed in a black suit with a white no-collar shirt. He was leaning against the arched doorway to the balcony, a vision of dark-haired perfection as he sipped a brandy. He was so handsome he could have been on the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. He took her breath away. Maybe they could just stay in tonight and make love. Her nipples tightened as she stepped into the living room.

  He must have heard her heels clicking on the marble flooring, because his head turned in her direction, his eyes widened.

  “Holy shit, Lisa.”

  She warmed under his perusal as he pushed off the wall and came toward her, walked around her, and whistled.

  “Goddamn, did someone sew you into that dress?”

  She giggled. “Nearly.”

  He came around to face her, took her hand, and kissed her fingers. Their eyes locked. “You look beautiful.”

  She could feel the thumping of her own heart. “Thank you. You look pretty smokin’ hot, too.”

  With a wide grin, he took her hand and slid it in the crook of his arm. “Then let’s go show off.”

  They took a taxi across the island to another resort, this one containing a club situated on an enormous rock hill overlooking the bay and alight with purple spotlights swaying back and forth. The atmosphere in front of the club was charged and exciting, people lining up to get inside. Beautifully dressed people, too. Rick told her this was a pretty exclusive nightclub and there was a dress code, so it wasn’t like you could walk up from the beach in your cover-up and flip-flops and get inside. And you had to have your name on the list, which wasn’t an easy thing to do.

  Their name was on the list, thanks to a hefty tip to their hotel’s concierge, so they went over to the “reservations” side of the line and walked right in.

  Lisa realized two things immediately. There was a quiet part of the club, and an earsplitting part. Even though there was a closed door cutting off the bar and dance club, you could still feel the pounding rhythm coming from beyond the doors, could see the lights bouncing around, and hear the music. As they moved in the opposite direction toward the restaurant and through the doors into soothing music, Lisa marveled at the amount of money the resort must have spent on sound-proofing the walls, because it was some feat to isolate that driving rhythm from the rest of the patrons.

  The restaurant was all dark paneling, cherry woods, and candlelight. How romantic. They were seated at a table in the corner. Very private and intimate. A waiter came by with menus and a wine list. She deferred to Rick, who ordered a bottle of sauvignon blanc. The waiter brought the bottle, poured their glasses, took their food orders, and left them alone.

  “Did you enjoy your nap today?” he asked.

  “I passed out for two hours. I was exhausted after you dragged me around town half the day.”

  “You like shopping.”

  She sipped the wine, pleased with the crisp, dry flavor. “I do. You hate it.”

  He shrugged and took a swallow of wine, rolling the liquid around in the glass. “I like being with you. I suffered through it just fine. The shops were interesting. I wasn’t bored.”

  He hadn’t seemed to be, but she wondered. “We can do things you like, too, Rick.”

  “We are doing things I like. We’ve snorkeled, parasailed, Jet Skied, taken a deep-sea fishing excursion, and gone to the marine mammal exhibition. We’ve also shopped, taken a wine tour, and hung out on the beach. We’ve eaten nonstop and drunk our way through this island. I’ve hardly been bored, Lisa.”

  “Okay. You have a point. I haven’t been bored either.” Sometimes she forgot that, maybe with the exception of shopping, they enjoyed many of the same things. That’s probably why neither of them had ever moved from Florida. The beach, water, and marine life were all things they both loved. And Kayla, of course. There was always that tie that bound them together and always would. But that wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship. A child was never enough to hold a couple. It hadn’t been enough when they were younger and it wouldn’t be now. There had to be more, something besides Kayla, besides the years between them.

  “Shadows.”

  She met his gaze. “What?”

  “The candlelight casts shadows across your face. But there are already shadows in your eyes.”

  “Wow,” she said, reaching for a wry grin as well as her glass of wine. “That’s pretty deep. You dabbling in psychology on the side now, Rick?”

  He laughed. “Sorry. I just know when you’re doing that whole deep thinking thing.”

  Her gaze drifted down, then back up again. “Yeah, you do, don’t you? Sorry. I’ll stop.”

  He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “You don’t have to stop thinking. I just wonder if your thinking doesn’t tend to run toward the all-the-reasons-you-shouldn’t-do-something area.”

  “You do know me well. Yes, it does tend to do that.”

  He slid his hand from hers, leaned back in his chair, and grabbed his glass. “Why can’t you just accept what is and go with it?”

  She shrugged. “I’m a chronic overthinker. You said you know me. You must know my affliction.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, I do. I guess I’ll have to come up with ways to banish thoughts from your head.”

  “Trying to keep me witless, huh?”

  She caught his smile as he tipped the glass for a drink.

  Rick was right, though. Why overthink everything and plan for the future when she was having a wonderful time right now? What was wrong with right now? They had made no plans for what happened after this vacation was over. Maybe nothing would happen, and they would go back to their lives the way they had been.

  Just have fun. Enjoy. Forget about everything else.


  She would. She’d try.

  Dinner was a sumptuous feast of lobster, dripping cholesterol-laden butter, and a plate full of delicious steamed vegetables. Lisa ate way more than she should have considering her already too tight dress, but she couldn’t resist. It was simply too decadent a meal. By the time dinner was finished, they’d polished off their bottle of wine. She was stuffed and utterly relaxed.

  “Time to dance off those calories,” Rick said, pulling her chair out.

  Overly full, she felt like she was waddling from the restaurant to the dance club, which she could have found blindfolded. One only had to follow the sound of the thumping bass that led to red velvet ropes attached to brass stands, directing them to wide, rich wood double doors and two scary-looking bouncers. Rick gave one of the guys his name, and they were allowed entrance.

  Wow, some security setup. What was inside that was so special? The doors were held open and they walked in. Lisa was immediately assailed by flashing bright lights, brain-melting music, and wall-to-wall bodies. Thankfully, Rick had hold of her hand, because they hadn’t walked in ten feet before the crowd closed in on them from all sides. Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic. The ceiling was lit with a rainbow of colors cascading down from track lighting that seemed to follow her like a spotlight wherever they walked. She’d feel like she was on display if the lighting didn’t appear to follow everyone else, too, in a muted, dark purple sort of way. It was funky, and kind of fun, almost like a laser tracking system. Maybe it focused on body heat or something, because everyone was lit up like that. How cool.

  There was a long bar against every wall, scattered high tables and tall chairs set in front of each bar, and the rest of the club was nothing but dance floor, the biggest floor she’d ever seen. Good thing, too, because that seemed to be what everyone was doing—gyrating to the music. There had to be at least two hundred people out there on the football field-sized wood floor. The really awesome thing about it was the dance area was so huge, there was plenty of room for people to move around instead of feeling as if you were packed like sardines in a can.