Tropical Bartender Bear (Shifting Sands Resort 3)

Chapter 12

The apron had been flimsy protection, but when Laura flowed into his lap, the cloth was suddenly an imposition.

She was more intoxicating than the finest whiskey, her mouth was sweeter than chocolate. Tex, slid his hands up her shoulders to cup her jaw so he could kiss her more deeply.

His words had barely scraped the surface of his feelings. He craved her, wanted to be buried inside of her, but more than that, he wanted to protect her, to worship her. She felt like forever.

Then her hand reached beneath the apron, giving him just the barest touch, and he had to gasp for breath.

“You can’t go back out there like this,” Laura teased him, her voice quiet near his ear.

“The resort is clothing optional,” Tex wheezed, trying to match her light-hearted tone and failing.

“Clothing is one thing,” Laura said chidingly. “This would be just obscene.”

“Not… sure… what… to-” Tex couldn’t even come up with a coherent sentence, not with her nails sliding tantalizingly over him.

She leaned in and kissed him again, and this time, Tex had no doubt how she intended to make him presentable again. He stroked the silky skin of her neck, keeping his fingers from clawing her with effort, and tugged the straps of her tank top and bra down to expose a soft shoulder to kiss.

“Besides,” she said, in a rich, husky voice as she pulled back, “I don’t want to share this view with anyone.”

Tex had to bite back a whimper — one of her hands was teasing his hard cock, and the other was pulling the apron off over his head.

“You have an advantage over me,” he said as he kissed her. “Let me… oh…”

Her fingers circled his member distractingly, and when she pulled her hand away, he groaned at the loss, only to be delighted when she used it to help shuck off her tank top and unclasp her bra in one smooth motion.

Tex froze, mesmerized by the swell of her breasts, and the beauty of her exposed belly. Her nipples hardened in the chill of the office, and Tex reached to rub his thumbs over each of them.

Laura gave a noise of pleasure, and Tex pulled her closer with a hand cupping each breast, to kiss her jaw, her earlobe, her neck, and then feast on a collarbone before letting himself kiss his way down to the luscious breasts.

He couldn’t pause there long, too wound with need and it didn’t take much to wrestle her shorts and lacy underwear from her curvy hips. He lay her down on the clear desk and kissed his way down her stomach to pause for a moment at the lightly furred mound above her treasure. A careful breath made Laura cry out wordlessly, and a soft kiss made her arch up to him in need.

“Fuck me,” she said, when he might have paused or tried to take a softer path. “Just fuck me, Cowboy.”

Tex was eager to oblige.

He slid her to the edge of the desk and lifted her willing leg. If he’d been any harder, he felt he could have burst on the spot, and when he pressed himself at her waiting entrance, she was already slick with her own juices.

Entering her was like perfect music; a slow crescendo of pleasure from a plateau of anticipation and need that already felt like a new high. He had to bite his lip not to simply thrust at her like an animal in rut. She deserved a crafted love-making, a worship of luxurious intimacy. Bad enough that he was sneaking with her in Chef’s office instead of laying her down on silk sheets in a shower of flower petals, he wasn’t going to make a schoolboy’s hash of their first coupling.

Bear had other thoughts.

She is ours, he growled inside Tex’s head. Ours to take and love and protect. Our mate. Our all.

Tex had to find the melody of a slow song in his head to keep his rhythm from becoming frantic. At every sweet thrust, Laura rose to him with a moan of delight and desire. Her hands at his arms left scratches of need, and when she writhed in the grip of an orgasm that drove a blissful cry from her perfect lips, Tex lost any sense of slowness and simply fell into his own frantic release.

Chapter 13

Laura was used to sex as an escape from her crappy life. She enjoyed the way problems dissolved for a short time in the hot wake of passion.

But it had never been like this. She didn’t feel like she was using Tex for a few moments of ignoring reality, and she didn’t for an instance feel like he was using her.

He loved her, however he stumbled over the semantics of it.

His touch wasn’t just about his pleasure, or even about her pleasure, or their pleasure. It was a bone-deep need, a connection at a level beyond skin. She felt like she’d been placed on an altar and worshiped, not taken in a tiny, barren office on a chilly metal desk as a matter of convenience.

Even after they were done, breath ragged and heartbeats loud in the little room, he didn’t let go of her, pulling him up so they were both standing. His strong arms held her up, and he continued stroking her back and shoulders as the moment passed.