Take Me to Paradise (Sinners on Tour 6.5)

“I’ll give you the entire package,” he said, taking her by the wrist and tugging her into his arms so he could kiss her deeply.

“Please do,” she murmured against his lips.

“You sure

you can handle it all?”

She turned him around and slowly walked him backward until his calves bumped into something solid. Next thing he knew, his shorts were around his ankles and he was seated on a comfortable patio sofa. Myrna sank to her knees in front of him and used both hands on his thighs to spread his legs. Eyes focused on his, she grasped his shaft in one hand.

“Let me know when you think I’ve handled it all,” she said, her soft pink lips twisted in a wry grin.

She used one hand to gently massage his balls. The other stroked his length with a tantalizing touch that merely skimmed the surface of his skin—and instantly had him squirming with excitement. The entire time she handled him, she held his gaze locked with hers. He couldn’t look away, even though the gorgeous ocean served as a spectacular backdrop to his beautiful wife.

“Use your mouth.” He’d meant it as a demand, but the words came out as a plea.

“You implied I couldn’t handle it all,” she said. “You said nothing about my mouth. Besides, I know I can’t get the whole thing in my mouth without dislocating my jaw and taking years of sword-swallowing lessons.”

He grabbed his shaft in one hand. “Swords wished they were this thick,” he teased.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” she said, most seriously. “Sequoia-swallowing lessons, then.”

He chuckled and released his grip on his dick to stroke a silky lock of hair from her cheek. He traced her upper lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to take it all. Just the most sensitive part.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“I always have your best interests at heart.”

“Then why am I the one on my knees?” she challenged.

He’d happily reciprocate with his mouth on her most sensitive part, but she’d started this. “Because you love me.”

“Are you a lucky guy or what?”

“The luckiest,” he said and then groaned when she lowered her head to tease his nuts with her clever tongue.

He squirmed when her breath blew gently against the wetness she’d left behind.

“I hope you’re ready to make a beautiful baby, little guys,” she said to his balls.

“Little guys?”

“I was talking to your sperm.”

Brian snorted and tugged her from her knees, encouraging her to straddle his lap. “They’re ready,” he assured her.

Buried inside her, lost in the bliss her body always gave to his, Brian wasn’t sure what prompted him to open his eyes. But what he saw just above the balcony railing near the wall made his blood boil. Myrna grunted in protest as he lifted her from his lap and tossed her none too gently on the sofa before jumping to his feet and making a mad dash for the railing. In his haste he stumbled over the shorts around his ankles. An instant before he grabbed the smartphone attached to one of those selfie poles, it disappeared around the wall between their balcony and the one next to theirs. Brian jerked his shorts up and climbed the rail, intent on claiming the piece of equipment that had completely violated his and Myrna’s privacy.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Myrna yelled, grabbing the back of his shorts to pull him back onto their balcony before he could climb to the neighboring one.

“Someone was watching us—or more likely recording us—with their goddamned cellphone.” He shoved her hands aside and climbed the stone railing again.

“Then go around and knock on their door. You’re going to kill yourself!”

He glanced down the near-fifty feet between his head and the ground and slipped back off the railing and onto the balcony. He was so pissed, he wasn’t thinking clearly. Lucky for him his wife was more rational than he tended to be.

“Someone is about to get their ass kicked,” he said and rushed through the suite to the exit. Once in the hall, he banged on the neighboring door and waited for a response. What if no one answered? Then what?

Then he would take it up with the hotel manager.

“Open the fucking door!” he bellowed. “I know you’re in there.” He pounded again, going so far as to jiggle the handle.

He was surprised when it turned in his hand and the door eased open.

“Will you look who it is, Gail? I told you it was him out on the balcony getting him some more, didn’t I?”

The fan from the airport? No fucking way.

“Give me your cellphone,” Brian demanded, extending a hand in the guy’s direction. “Now!”

“Hey, if you want me to have your number that badly…”

Brian jerked the device from the man’s hand and checked his photo stream for videos or pictures of himself and Myrna. He discovered a lot of video footage of various rock concerts, but no sex videos.

“I’ll need to see your girlfriend’s phone too,” Brian said, checking through the videos one last time in case he’d somehow missed one of Myrna pleasuring him with her hands and mouth, or riding his cock on the patio sofa. But nope, nothing.

“Normally I wouldn’t let a guy hit on my girl,” Kev said, “but I’d let you bang her on our wedding night.”

And why would Brian want to do that when he was already married to his perfect woman? His perfect woman touched his arm and stood on tiptoes to peer around his shoulder.

“Well?” Myrna asked.

“Nothing on his phone. Just need to check his woman’s.”

“Why do you need to check our phones anyway?” Kev asked.

“Because I saw you recording us with your phone while we were on the balcony,” Brian said, taking Gail’s phone and checking her photo stream.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Kev said. “Is your room next to ours?”

“Obviously.” The dude had just said he knew they were on the balcony getting some—was he completely stupid? Brian’s frustration escalated as photo after photo of a very fluffy, very orange Pomeranian graced every image in Gail’s phone. There wasn’t anything remotely related to him and Myrna saved to her files.

“That’s Peaches!” Gail said. “Oh, I miss her so much already. I wish we could have brought her with us.”

“Sometimes I think she loves that dog more than she loves me,” Kev said and shook his head.

“There isn’t anything on here either,” Brian said to Myrna as finished flipping through dog pictures.

“Maybe you were seeing things,” she said. “And are you sure you saw it from this side of the balcony?”

He was sure. At least he had been until both phones came up evidence-free.

“Maybe I was mistaken.”

“If you two are free for dinner, we’d love to take you out. My buddies will never believe that A, I met Brian Sinclair. B, he’s staying in the room next to mine. And C, he had dinner with me.”

“No,” Brian said, without consulting Myrna. He was pretty sure they’d be on the same page here. “We already have plans.”

“No offense, but it’s our honeymoon,” Myrna said, sounding slightly apologetic. Brian had no idea why. “We just want to spend time alone together.”

“In private,” Brian added, still convinced that one of these two—probably Kev—had been spying on them.

“I understand,” Kev said dejectedly as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, if you change your mind…”

“We won’t,” Brian said and spun Myrna toward their open hotel room door.

He ushered her inside and closed the door. He wanted to be alone with her, sure, but mostly he wanted to get away from Kev and Gail. They made him uncomfortable, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“What has gotten into you?” Myrna stood just inside the room with both hands on her hips and eyeing him with disapproval.

“What are you talking about?” He honestly had no idea.

“I’ve never seen you act so rude toward a fan. Ever. First you