It’s Love, Dude Page 10

  Yeah, the crowd was loud and noisy and the photographers were snapping and bumping people out of the way, but she knew the grin was for her.

  It had been a freaking great day.

  The contestants who hadn’t made the finals hadn’t gone home. They’d hung around. Carly had been one of them. Molly had found herself scooped up and included. It added to the excitement because Zane didn’t have the competition sewn up. There were two guys nearly as good.

  ‘It’ll be the wave. Luck and what he makes of it,’ Carly had said.

  Surrounded by people who could explain just how close the contest was, Molly had nearly forgotten to breathe. Competitive surfing had the unexpectedness of relying on nature. No one could predict conditions. It was like show jumping or something. You trained and trained, but on the day, there was that element of magic. No one knew what might happen.

  Zane jumped down from the podium. The rickety structure rocked but held up. With one hand holding the trophy high in the air, his other arm went around Molly, plastered her to him and he kissed her.

  It was a victor’s kiss. Triumph and adrenaline, happiness and promise.

  She loved it. The crazy thrill of his win heated her blood too. She could even ignore the crowd and photographers.

  Unfortunately, Zane had to acknowledge them. There were journalists wanting quotes, kids wanting signatures, pro-bros (Molly was picking up the lingo — ‘pro-bros’ were wannabes who wanted to hang out with the professionals) and his friends waiting to congratulate him.

  Molly stepped back. Zane looked a question, but she shook her head, smiling. They’d have their time together, later. A secret shiver slid down her spine. It would be brilliant. This moment of euphoria would translate into something incredible.

  Half an hour later, he put his mouth close to her ear. ‘Damon’s lined up some more media stuff. You might as well go back to the hotel and get ready for tonight. I’ll come to your room. Seven o’clock?’

  She nodded, but put a hand on his shoulder, holding him near.

  ‘Babe?’

  ‘Loved your win, Zane. Proud of you.’ She kissed him.

  Both of his arms went around her. ‘I want to tell Damon to shove his media conference.’

  ‘But you won’t.’

  ‘No. This’ll get him sponsorship for next year’s event. Still, I want my prize, tonight.’ His hazel eyes were green with emotion. He slid his hand down her hip.

  A sexy shiver went through her.

  He felt it. ‘Best prize.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I know so. Now, go get glammed up while I throw some meat to the media vultures.”

  ***

  Molly inspected her face in the bathroom mirror. She’d been careful about sunburn and it had paid off. Her face was slightly flushed, but that was as much from excitement as the day on the beach. Thank heaven she had no peeling nose or blistered lips. She smoothed on moisturiser and began the process of applying her make-up.

  Usually she went for the understated look. Tanya and Andrea had talked her out of it and she had to agree. Having promised to wear the gold dress, she had to match its drama or look stupid. She dusted on blush, going light with it since next she dipped the brush in gold glitter. Gold glitter! Carefully she added the matching eye shadow and watched her exaggerated, mascaraed eyelashes as she blinked. Wow, they felt heavy.

  For the final touch she coloured her mouth in a shimmery red.

  The dress had required new lingerie, a barely-there bra and a scrap of silk masquerading as knickers to ensure there’d be no panty line. She wriggled into the dress and stared at her image.

  Without her shoes and with her hair blown smooth, although dishevelled from putting on the dress, she looked like a party girl. She looked glamorous.

  ‘I do not look like me.’

  When she put on the super-high heels, she didn’t feel like herself either. She twirled and wobbled, and laughed. She was a sexy Cinderella waiting for her surfer prince.

  Who was knocking at the door.

  ‘Zane.’ She smiled at him.

  There was no answering smile.

  ‘Zane?’

  His gaze travelled back up her body and hit her eyes. ‘We’ll eat in.’

  ‘You like the dress.’

  ‘I like everything I’m seeing. Damn.’

  She didn’t understand, but given that her body was humming from his obvious appreciation, she didn’t worry. ‘We’ll be late.’

  ‘We won’t go at all if I kiss you.’

  Her legs didn’t get a command from her brain, they just took that half step forward so that she was in his space, her body brushing his.

  ‘Not helping, babe.’ He put both hands at her waist. Restrained, yes, except that his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts. ‘It’s a sponsor event. I have to show.’

  ‘Uh huh.’ She wet her lips.

  ‘You trying to kill me?’

  She peeked at him from under the outrageous eyelashes. ‘I’m blaming the dress. It’s turned me into a Hollywood vamp, a seductress.’

  ‘I’m seduced.’ He bent and kissed the curve of her throat. ‘I’m not messing your make-up.’

  ‘Thoughtful of you.’ She shivered.

  ‘You’ll see just how thoughtful I can be in a couple of hours.’

  ‘Promises, promises.’ Her voice shook as he nuzzled her throat, her ear, sighed against her hair and released her.

  ‘We should go. Got your bag, your passkey?’

  She snatched up both.

  ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’

  ***

  Zane burned. Molly sat beside him, smiling at the right places as the speaker droned on. Hadn’t the guy ever heard of keeping it short? Zane, for one, had other plans for the night. His arm rested on the back of Molly’s chair and he drew circles on her shoulder. These little touches — and how she looked in that dress — were what kept him simmering. Just as soon as they got some privacy, he’d let the flames roar.

  Molly shifted so their shoulders touched.

  He liked that she was just as hungry for closer contact.

  She’d been cute on the red carpet — or the polished concrete steps outside the restaurant, if you wanted to be accurate. She’d smiled and even shyly posed for the cameras. He’d been astounded and amused at her enjoyment of the attention — and then he’d heard her earnestly mentioning the dress designer’s name, spelling it and the website address and emphasising that she was a local talent. Only Molly would make her time in the spotlight all about someone else.

  The combination of her stunning looks and her shy appeal had charmed everyone. Him most of all.

  ‘Finally,’ he said under his breath as the speaker finished and everyone hastily applauded before he could start again.

  Zane’s name was called and he stood and strode to the microphone. It was easy enough to be popular. All he had to do was be brief. After Mr Talkative, that would win him everyone’s gratitude.

  He ran through the spiel. Thank Damon, plug the sponsor, be gracious, deprecating, real and brief. ‘Thank you.’

  He sat down.

  Molly leaned in and squeezed his hand. ‘You were great up there. And even with all the flashbulbs going off, you didn’t squint.’

  ‘It’s a gift,’ he said amused.

  ‘Maybe it’s all the sunlight glaring off the sea when you surf. Maybe you’re used to it.’

  He laughed outright and hugged her. ‘Just as soon as we’ve had dessert, we’re out of here.’

  ‘Won’t that be rude?’

  ‘Rude would be me throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out now.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her mouth looked like sin with that long drawn out ‘oh’ of surprise and excitement.

  ‘Should we?’

  Her eyes slid to his. She was tempted. ‘Better not. This dress is short. They’d see my knickers.’

  ‘Are they sexy?’

  A solemn nod.

  ‘Best save t
hose for a private show then.’

  Dessert became torture as he thought of the private show. It did not help that some idiot had decided on chocolate dipped fruit for dessert.

  ‘You should try the pineapple,’ Molly said. ‘It’s good.’

  ‘Babe, fruit is not what I want chocolate-dipped.’

  The strawberry on her fork fell. She mopped up hastily and pushed aside her half-eaten dessert.

  Twenty seconds later they were standing and saying their good-byes.

  The other men at the table had a knowing glint in their eyes. The women looked envious or sentimental.

  Zane had his hand on Molly’s back where the scrap of dress left some of her skin bare. He slid the tip of his fingers just under the edge of fabric.

  She made a husky sound, not quite a word.

  As soon as they were inside his suite with the door safely locked, he kissed her.

  Her handbag dropped and she put both hands around his neck. The kiss was long and deep and hungry.

  ‘Is the dress on loan?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You take it off, then.’

  ‘H-here?’

  He’d forgotten how shy she was, beguiled by the dress and her responsiveness. She was hot. ‘Bedroom better?’

  ‘I…no.’ She caught his arm, stopping him. ‘I can do this.’

  ‘It’s not a challenge, Molly. I want you to be comfortable.’

  ‘I will be — with you.” She put her hands to the short hem of the dress and pulled the tight fabric upwards.

  It wasn’t a practiced striptease. There was a moment where it got stuck and she wriggled awkwardly. But no practiced seduction had made him so instantly hard.

  ‘Just a sec.’ She walked three steps, near-naked in high heels, and draped the dress over the back of the sofa. ‘Now it’s safe. Zane!’

  He trapped her there. ‘Do you know you’re gorgeous? You are.’

  The bra cupped her full breasts, gold against the warm cream of her skin.

  He flicked it open, dragged the scrap of fabric away and stared down. ‘These are the strawberries I wanted to eat.’ Her nipples were flushed and tight, beautiful. He teased them, enjoying the weight of her breasts, their soft fullness and her responsive, quickened breathing.

  She pushed at his jacket. She was right: he was over-dressed .

  ‘Bedroom,’ he said.

  She kept tugging at his shirt buttons.

  He crowded her towards the bedroom while dropping his jacket, peeling off his tie, losing the shirt.

  She went with him willingly then.

  His arousal became near-pain when she put her face against his bare chest and inhaled the scent of him, then licked. He picked her up and dropped her to sprawl on the bed.

  ‘My sandals. I’ll hook the quilt.’

  He unbuckled the heels and threw them away before running his hands up her calves, pausing to massage her inner knees a second with his thumbs, then parting her legs and slowly moving his hands up her thighs.

  Her knees quivered. ‘You still have your trousers on.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He cupped her intimately, remembering how she’d climaxed two nights ago. She’d do that again, and while he was inside her.

  ‘Take them. Off.’ Her breath hitched as he stroked the silk knickers and then she was lifting up to his hand.

  ‘Ladies first.’ He stripped off her knickers, then stepped back, dealing with his own clothes while watching her.

  She got off on what she saw. It was there in the arch of her throat, the restless movements of her gorgeous body and irrevocably in the sigh of satisfaction when he returned to her.

  Nothing in the world was as hot as being desired. He kissed her with the hunger of it, making sure it was good for her. He wanted her breasts, though. As good as they felt in his hands, he remembered the taste of her and her reaction.

  He rolled on his back, bringing her over him, but he didn’t get her breasts. She was too quick for him.

  Her head went down and her tongue darted out, lashing one of his nipples.

  He felt the warmth of her lips, then the light graze of her teeth. He thrust a hand in her hair and tugged her head up. Mouth parted, eyes glazed, she was the sexiest sight. He lunged, capturing her mouth and sliding his hands down to her hips, working one hand into her slick heat and giving her something to ride.

  His shy Molly was a tiger in bed. Not sophisticated about it, but honest, open in taking and giving.

  ‘Want you.’ She nipped his throat.

  ‘In a minute.’

  She ground against his hand. ‘Now.’

  ‘Come first.’

  ‘No. With you.’ And all the time, riding his hand. But now she stopped and sat back on her heels. Her hand took him. ‘Condom.’

  He groped blindly and found the protection. Most of his attention was on the slow movement of her hand and the way she looked pagan and plain hot. She sheathed him, and that was sexy, too.

  But it was perhaps a boldness too far. She hesitated with her hands on the top of his thighs.

  ‘Come here.’ He pulled her forward and kissed her before switching their positions. Looking down into her pretty, flushed face he asked. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Mmhmm.’ She ran a hand down his spine.

  He nudged her legs wider apart.

  She wrapped them around him.

  There went his self-control. He entered her on a single thrust and felt the world tighten in unbearable pleasure. ‘You good?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He fought for control and found it, holding back, keeping things slow, till she was rising to meet every thrust. Then he let loose the hunger in him and it was a fierce, shared explosion of passion that tore away every pretence of pleasure and made it about necessity and breath.

  ***

  Molten gold, Molly decided. Her bones had melted into liquid fire and there were diamonds swimming in her, bursts of pleasure like tiny aftershocks from the cataclysm of loving Zane. She lay there, unable to move and unwilling to lose the incredible sensation. Never, ever had she known anything like the surrender and demand she’d given Zane. She’d come out of her body and slammed back into it, and now could only lie there, blissed out.

  Zane kissed the tips of her breasts and diamonds tingled there. His trail of kisses lit a path of stardust up her throat and paused tantalisingly short of her mouth.

  ‘Please.’ A soundless sigh.

  He kissed the plea from her lips.

  She stretched languorously against him. It felt so good that she moved some more, sliding over him as he stroked his tongue into her mouth, claiming with the same slow, timeless pleasure.

  He gathered up her hair in one fist.

  The sensation of her long hair trailing along her skin, catching on her breasts and caressing him, added to the sensual overload. When they made love this time, every touch explored the pleasure they knew they’d find.

  Happiness had a new name: Zane.

  Chapter 11

  Zane sat on the edge of the bed.

  Molly lay on her side, the sheet dipping to reveal her shoulder and the top of her breasts.

  He breathed in deeply. Discipline. Much as he wanted to edge the sheet lower and start something, his plane left way too soon.

  Onlookers thought he had an easy life. Travel the world. Surf. They didn’t see the years of the commitment, the training and the ruthlessness. Nothing could be allowed between him and winning. He’d had a full schedule before Max added Cloo-in as a new sponsor. Now his life was just crazy.

  ‘Molly, wake up.’ He traced the curve of her cheek, then brushed his thumb over her mouth.

  Her lips parted.

  Tempted, he kissed her and watched her eyelids lift. Her eyes focused and he felt her smile beneath his mouth. Her arms went around his neck.

  ‘Morning, babe.’ Reluctantly, he drew back.

  She blinked. ‘You’re dressed.’ She hitched the sheet up.

  He didn’t like that hint of s
elf-consciousness. He braced himself for it to get worse. ‘I have to leave. I’m cutting it fine to get to the airport.’

  Naked vulnerability in her face. Disappointment. Hurt.

  ‘Molly, I want to be here with you.’ He leaned over, pinning her to the bed, one hand either side of her. ‘It’s ripping my guts out to walk away.’

  ‘I knew you had to go.’ Her smiled wobbled. She rubbed at his shoulder. ‘You should have woken me earlier.’

  ‘You were out of it.’ And he was out of his depth. He hadn’t known how to deal with how she’d made him feel last night, nor how she’d made it obvious the impact he had on her. It felt wrong to walk away, but he couldn’t stay. ‘No words, babe. Kiss me, then I’m gone.’

  The ache in his guts got worse when she obliged.

  He looked back at her from the doorway, the taste of her on his lips, fighting the urge to say to hell with the world and go back to her. ‘I’ll be in Jardin Bay soon.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He got out while he could.

  ***

  Molly collapsed back among the pillows, but that was a bad idea. The bed smelled of Zane.

  She leapt out and ran for the bathroom. ‘Medusa.’ Her make-up looked tired, her hair a mess. ‘Aargh!’ She found her dress, struggled into it and finger-combed her hair while searching for her sandals.

  The room that had been sexy and romantic with Zane in it felt unwelcoming and impersonal in its cold luxury. She couldn’t get out fast enough. She stuffed her bra in her bag and checked she had her passkey. Then she checked that she had enough composure to face the world outside the room.

  Maybe not, but it wasn’t like she had a choice.

  Thank heaven the lift was empty. She got off at her floor, hurried to her room and collapsed inside the temporary haven. She pushed away from the door and headed to the shower.

  Dressed like herself, she’d feel like herself. She would not think about how much she wished she’d woken cuddled in Zane’s arms. After making love with a passion that left her devastatingly open to him, she’d needed the reassurance that it meant something to him, too.

  Last night, it had felt as if he was there with her, reaching for that same elusive prize — and they’d won it. More than pleasure. A sense of connection that communicated each other’s pleasure and magnified it.