Compromised in Paradise (Compromise Me 3)

The heartfelt appreciation in her voice and lethargy in her limbs testified to her satisfaction. “You’re welcome, but you did most of the work.” He unfolded her legs and lowered them to the bench.

She shivered. “I’ve never, never—oh!”

His fault. He hadn’t been able to resist giving that round, perfect ass a final slap. The payback was instant, because watching her flesh rebound drew his balls painfully tight. “Does that get me on a first-name basis, Czarina?”

He knew he’d extinguished her afterglow as soon as the words left his mouth.

The rules are simple. Five days. As many orgasms as she can handle. No names. Why the fuck can’t you leave it alone?

Her shoulders stiffened for an instant, and then she levered herself up and crawled to the other end of the bench seat. When she turned around and stretched out with her back propped against the molded corner, her expression revealed nothing, but she draped her arm across her breasts. He recognized a protective gesture when he saw one—even an unconscious one. Lifting her chin, she stared him down from across the space she’d put between them. He knew an attempt at distancing, too. He’d mastered most of them in the name of accomplishing an easy exit. Right now, however, he didn’t much like being on the receiving end of the attempt.

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“We have a deal. Name exchange occurs if, and only if, you satisfy the agreed-upon terms.” She lifted her arm and folded it behind her head in a move calculated to dispel any hint of self-consciousness. “If you’d like to give that a go right now…?”

Oh, sure. The woman suffering from a stress-induced orgasmic disorder suddenly expected two back-to-back? Unlikely, and he refused to push things. The next time he was inside her, he wasn’t going to fail. “Can’t. Baby steps, remember?”

Confusion clouded her gaze. It dropped to the front of his shorts. “How many more baby steps are there?” She lifted the arm she’d propped along the back of the booth and pointed in the general vicinity of his hard-on. “And what are you going to do about this situation?”

He stood, peeled off his shirt, and walked toward her. “I had an idea about that.”

Her gaze staggered over his chest and abs. She sat up and traced her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. “Did you?”

The situation now bordered on painful, and the temptation to take her up on her offer strong. “Yeah.” He planted a foot on the bench by her hip. While she looked on, he levered himself up, stepped over her legs, and dived into the water.

Tempting or not, tonight he needed to stay in control. Prove to her he could, so she’d feel secure relinquishing hers. The cool, all-encompassing embrace of the ocean helped. He lingered there, waiting until the ache migrated from his groin to his lungs, and then kicked to the surface.

She stood at the stern, wearing late-afternoon sunlight, her tiny bikini bottoms, and an exasperated expression he found adorable and ego-boosting at the same time.

“Are you playing hard to get, Captain?”

“I’m right here. Come get me.”

She rolled her eyes. “A dip wasn’t what I had I mind.”

“You’re missing out.” He drew in a lungful of air and lay back in the water with his eyes closed. The sun warmed his face. “You can’t do this in Siberia.”

“Are you sure you want to play it this way? You only get four more shots at making good on your promise. Can you afford to waste one?”

“I’m not wasting a thing. I’m relying on the scientifically proven principle of delayed gratification. Certain appetites intensify the longer they go unfulfilled, especially when you get enough of a taste to know what you’re missing. Over the next few days, things are going to get pretty damn intense. So intense that when I finally give your stubborn little pussy what it’s craving, you’re never going to be the same again.”

An extended silence greeted his words, followed by a breathless, “Oh.”

Jesus, she killed him. From beneath his lashes he watched her hover at the stern for a moment, before stepping onto the dive deck and bringing her palms together over her head. He had a second to appreciate the way the pose lifted her high, round tits even higher before she dived into the water.

He kept an eye on her until she surfaced—sleek and glistening—and did a lazy breaststroke over to him. The backdrop of ocean and sky brought out the blue in her eyes. She looked like some kind of mysterious nymph. A sneaky grin ruined the illusion a moment before she aimed a playful splash at him. “You can’t seem to resist a body of water. I imagine you really miss this when you’re up in space.”

Was this an attempt to reestablish their boundaries, or test them?

He cupped his hand along the surface and sent a wave toward her. “I imagine I do.”

“It must be hard to maintain a relationship from up there.”

Definitely testing the boundaries. Unfortunately, she’d picked a test subject he’d fail. He tried to play it off with a shrug. “No harder than in Siberia.”

“So, you do manage?”

Lying seemed pointless. “Not so much. Relationships aren’t really my strong suit.”