Broken for Me (Be for Me 5)

The first night for new guests was always busy. In a small window of quiet, Luisa placed a dish of nuts in front of him.

“To keep your energy levels up,” she murmured coyly.

The blackness in his eyes burned hot. “Thank you.”

“I did it to please myself really.” She shrugged impishly. “You’re such a people watcher.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“You’re quiet, but you’re not a complete introvert,” she mused. “I think you actually like being around other people.”

“Why do you feel the constant need to analyze me?” he drawled.

“Because you fascinate me,” she answered— with simple, revealing honesty.

Something changed in his expression and for a split-second he looked vulnerable.

Her heart lurched. “Hunter?”

He leaned close and whispered. “I find it very difficult to stay away from you.”

Her pulse skittered. Even though she knew that. Even though she felt the same about him. She drew in a deep breath and warned herself to pull it back, keep herself together. She needed to keep this just about the pleasure in the present.

A honeymooner waved for her attention. Pleased for the respite from Hunter, she made even more of an effort to tease and draw them out. A large, happy group formed and they danced from cocktails to shots. Laughing, Luisa flicked her wrists and poured them a dozen.

Hunters lips twisted wryly when she briefly walked back to his end of the bar to pick up extra slices of lime and floral decoration.

“You attract everyone around you,” he said, his expression intense.

She shook her head. “Oh please.”

“You do. You draw people near. You’re vivacious. You’re the light in the room.”

While she found him the velvety darkness—the soothing rest that she so badly needed. They fitted—complemented each other. But she turned back to those honeymooners—joking endlessly with them. He remained, silent, watching with that small smile on his lips. But it was different again now—a connection had been forged between them, that meant that even in this separation, they were still together.

She made another round of layered shots for the raucous group. One of the brides—with strikingly blue eyes—glanced down the bar at Hunter and then back at Luisa.

“Your man’s the strong, silent type isn’t he?” she said saucily as Luisa lined up the drinks along the bar. “Sexy as…”

Luisa was startled that she’d noticed—not about Hunter’s sexiness—but that they were a couple.

“I bet he’s dynamite. Got that edge of danger.” The bride knocked back her shot and dragged in a deep breath to recover. “Still waters run deep and all that.” She giggled and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ll have another shot thanks, lucky lady.”

Luisa arched an eyebrow, determinedly maintaining her ‘customer-is-always-right’ smile. “And you just got married.”

The woman looked coy. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes anymore.”

Hungry ones.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked as she walked back down his end of the bar a few moments later.

“Nothing.”

“A scowl is a very rare expression on your sweet face and you look thunderous,” he said skeptically. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t want to confess her jealousy.

He kept staring at her, his eyes boring right into her soul.

Luisa sighed. “She thinks you’re hot.”

A started expression lit his face. “And you disagree?” He laughed.

“Her husband of three days is less than five feet away.”

“You’re jealous?” His smile was abominably smug and he leaned closer. “Want to stake your claim?”

Her gaze dropped to his lips. She could kiss him now and let every woman and man in the room know he was taken. But while this might be an adults-only honeymoon island, she was not a guest and extremely public displays of affection were frowned upon— that’s what the huts were for.

“I have no claim on you,” she muttered softly.

Her scowl deepened as she realized the uncomfortable truth—the even more ugly future. Other women wanted him. Other women would have him.

Hunter watched the shadows flickering in Luisa’s eyes and wished he could read her beautifully complex, infuriating-as-fuck mind. He still couldn’t quite believe she’d said yes to their affair. Though he could understand why—the way they moved together and the pleasure they achieved was mind-blowing. No question, she gave him the best sex of his life. They were explosive.

He’d learned long ago not to expect anything more from anyone. Even if this affair was only sexual and only short, that was enough, wasn’t it? He was just glad that driving urge, the niggle in the back of his mind that wouldn’t let up had been right. When he’d first arrived he’d watched her closely and seen heat sweep across her features. If her reaction had been anything else, he’d have turned around and gone straight back to the mainland and never bothered her again. But her reaction had been too clear. She wanted him with the same single-minded intensity that he wanted her. Now he’d had her, he wanted more.

And there were the beginnings of a problem. Because she was resistant to anything more complicated. Those secrets—that hurt—held her back. She was still limiting this. Still denying there could be any future. She’d put a finish-date on them. Why? What was she so afraid of? Because she was afraid—he’d seen fear in enough people to recognize it now.

But all he could give her was time. And let himself enjoy the moment too. Because shit could hit real quick, he knew that too.

“You’re still annoyed,” he said a half hour later when he walked her to his hut and she’d fallen silent after her talk-a-thon with her customers.

In some ways he took her jealousy as a good sign, but she was tense about it. Which meant she didn’t like the jealousy she felt. She didn’t want to feel for him. He could relate to that sentiment.

“Yes,” she admitted in a low mutter.

He moved swiftly, kissing her until her anger reshaped into passion. It took only moments. She was incandescent. So devastatingly responsive that he took her upright, hard against the door.

“I am here,” he grunted, emphasizing exactly where with a fierce thrust of his hips. “With you. You have every claim on me. And I have every claim on you.”

That was what he wanted. And she responded to his hard line—curling her leg around his hip and bucking against him—with him every thrust of the way to ecstasy.

“Better?” he asked when he’d recovered the ability to speak.

She nodded dazedly.

“Bed?”

She shook her head and walked into his room. “I don’t want to waste time sleeping.” She looked around and he suspected she wasn’t quite all better yet. Sexually satisfied for now, yes… but not relaxed. Her nerves were still jangling. Oddly, that made him feel better.

“You carry cards?” She swiped up the worn deck from the open pocket of his hold-all.

“Always.” He strolled over and levered himself onto the bed and watched her shuffle them with quick, restless hands.

“I always do too,” she said.

“I’m not playing strip poker with you,” he muttered.

“You’re scared of losing?” She sent him an arch look.

“I can’t be bothered getting dressed only to have to take them all off again.”

A little smile flashed on her pretty face. “Wow, you’re in a lazy mood.”

“I am supremely relaxed.” It was truth. He had her now—in his bed, in his hut for the next few hours, and she was shaken up enough to start sharing. But he wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t about to immediately start prying. He’d let her settle some and inch by inch she’d eventually open up.

“Then let me pit my rapier-like mind against yours just for the thrill of victory.” Her smile broadened.

“You want braggi

ng rights?” he teased. He liked that she liked to win.

“Absolutely. I’m claiming them. They will be mine.”

“What’s your game of choice?”

He knew her two favorites. After five minutes of debating some of the more detailed rules, she dealt their hands. It was a game of strategy and quick-thinking. She won the first round, he the second. Naked, snacking on fresh fruit at two in the morning, and playing cards, it was madness. And it was pure paradise.

“You like games,” he muttered.

“I do,” she nodded with doe-eyed look. “They’re fun and social and I like to win. But so do you. You’re a good challenge.” She shot him another look. “I bet you play patience, don’t you?”

He smiled slowly. “What makes you think that?”

“Just a hunch. I bet you’re happy taking your time and waiting for the cards to fall how you want them. So that in the end you win.”

“I don’t win everything all of the time,” he pointed out somberly. “No one does.”

“But you stack the deck in your favor,” she said huskily.