Author: Jaci Burton


Very casual.


“I’m ready.”


He turned and looked down at her feet, then frowned. “Heels? We’re in Florida. You need sandals.”


She gave him a disdainful pfft. “Honey, I live in heels.”


“Not on the beach, you don’t.”


“Try me.”


He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”


He drove her to one of the nice Palm Beach malls. Everything was outside, the sun was shining, and tall palm trees lined the walkway.


Now they were in her element—shopping. She breezed in and out of a few stores, picking up a few pairs of Capri pants and some shoes, underwear and sundresses.


Gavin laid back and held bags for her while she went on a tear. She knew herself, knew what she liked and what looked good on her. She didn’t really own that much resort wear since she never took much downtime. These would all be new things for her.


He paid particular attention in the upscale lingerie shop, of course, his eyes gleaming when she fingered the sexy and sinful bras and panties. Armed with several items, she stood in front of him at the counter.


“I’m not paying a fortune for new lingerie if you’re just going to ruin it by ripping it off me.”


The saleswoman behind the cash register gaped at them. Elizabeth didn’t care.


Gavin took the bundle from her hand, laid them on the counter, and whipped out his credit card. “No guarantees of that. You look smokin’ hot in this stuff. If we ruin them all, we’ll just come back for more.”


She shrugged. “It’s your dime.”


That saleswoman would have plenty to gossip about after they left.


The temperature in the store rose a few degrees, and Elizabeth took a step back, irritated by the hardening of her traitorous nipples. The young saleswoman shot Gavin a look of pure lust, but he kept his gaze on Elizabeth.


Fine. Score a point for Gavin.


“You need something sexy to wear when we go out at night.”


“We’re going out at night? Where to?”


He shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll take you dancing.”


She ignored the tiny little thrill at the thought of being in Gavin’s arms while he toured her around a dance floor. “I thought you just wanted to fuck me.”


He stopped and slid his finger across her cheek. “I do. I will. But we have to come up for air and leave the beach house. You want to have some fun outside the bedroom, don’t you?”


Something fluttered in her belly, something that felt an awful lot like stirrings of emotion. “Gavin, why are you doing this?”


“Doing what?”


“This. Keeping me here with you. Shopping with me. Talking of going out places. I don’t get it.”


He directed her into a store. “Quit asking questions.”


He motioned to one of the saleswomen. “She likes black. So anything but black.”


Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Definitely lots of things in black for me.”


She selected several black cocktail dresses, but by the time she went into the dressing room, they were gone, replaced instead by a red dress, a champagne-colored dress, and another in a soft burgundy.


“These are the wrong dresses,” she said to the saleswoman.


“Your gentleman selected these. Said for you to give in and try them on.”


She rolled her eyes, but the dresses were pretty, so she put one on. The red one first, which she paraded for him. He shook his head so she tried the burgundy one next.


“Nice, but not good enough.”


She put her hands on her hips. “This is why I go for the black dresses. They always work.”


He smiled at her. “Go put the last one on.”


She flounced off to the dressing room, determined to prove him wrong. The champagne dress was fitted, had thin straps, and hugged every single one of her curves. She looked at herself in the mirror and was stunned at how the color accentuated her hair and her skin tone. She would have never thought to go with a color like this.


She came out of the dressing room, and Gavin’s eyes rocketed to her.


He stood, came over to her, and turned her to face the mirror. His fingers grazed her shoulders.


“You’re beautiful, Elizabeth. The dress makes your hair look like fire.”


She’d been told she was beautiful before, but they had been surface compliments. Gavin spoke with his eyes, the way they raked over not only her body, but her hair, her face. His eyes meet hers. The warmth she saw there . . .


Was entirely her imagination.


“Thanks. I guess it’s okay.”


“It’s more than okay. It gives you a sweet innocence instead of the hard edge you always go for when you wear black. I’m getting this dress for you.” He signaled to the saleswoman. “This one.”


“Yes, sir.”


Men didn’t buy her clothes. She was independent, had more than enough money to buy her own things. Anything she wanted. That’s why she’d worked so damn hard the past ten years, so she could be independent.


Never dependent again.


She sidled up to Gavin at the counter. “I can buy this dress for myself.”


He turned to her. “Yes, you can. But I chose it because I want to see you in it, so I’m buying it for you. Is that okay?”


“Yes, I suppose.”


“And while I’m buying this, why don’t you change into that yellow flowery sundress you bought? It’s hot outside, and you must be dying in those jeans.”


“Good idea.”


She changed clothes, shaking her head while she did.


THEY FINISHED THEIR SHOPPING AND LEFT THE MALL. Gavin took them to a seaside grill, where they had fantastic cocktails along with amazing seafood.


“So, are you a good seafood cook?” she asked, spearing her last mouthwatering bite of lobster salad.


“I’m an excellent seafood cook. What would you like me to fix for you?”


“I love seafood. Anything you cook, I’ll eat.”


“I’ll have to take you fishing, see what we catch.”


She studied him over her pomegranate martini. “I don’t fish.”


He stared right back at her over his glass of whiskey. “You’ve tried it before and hated it.”


“Not exactly.”


“You’ve never fished.”


“I’ve never fished.”


“So I’ll teach you. You’ll love it.”


Challenge. Again. “If you want me to go out on a boat with you, great. I’ll sunbathe. You fish. And don’t you have to play baseball or something?”


He smirked. “I still get free time and use every minute of it.”


“Once spring training starts, you’ll have games almost every day.”


“Not every day. And games don’t take up the entire day. Why, are you trying to get out of our agreement?”


“I said I’d stay, didn’t I?”


“Good. You can come to my games. Or do whatever work you have to do. Schmooze some clients. Pick up new ones. Plenty of teams play around here. Do what you do best, as long as you’re in my bed every night.”


Her body zinged with awareness. She’d wanted to be with Gavin since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, when he was twenty-two and she was almost twenty-six. She had felt like a dirty old woman back then.


Now he was twenty-nine and she was almost thirty-three.


“I’m older than you are, you know.”


He laughed. “Where did that come from?”


“I just don’t get the sudden attraction. You’ve never paid any attention to me before.”


“Oh, I noticed you before.”


“Still, we don’t have anything in common. The fishing thing, for instance. Plus the age difference.”


“I know how old you are, Elizabeth, which isn’t even a factor. You think I can’t handle you? Want me to show you again?”


She laughed and took a sip of her drink. “No, thank you.”


He leaned back in his chair. “Bored with me already?”


She inhaled a shaky breath. “Not quite. You still have a little tread on your tires.”


His gaze went dark. “Yeah, I’ll show you a little tread on my tires. Go in the bathroom and take off your panties.”


“Excuse me?”


“You heard me.”


“No.”


“You want me to take them off of you out here?”


“You wouldn’t.”


“Wouldn’t I?” He finished his whiskey and slid his hand under the table, lifting her sundress.


She slapped his hand away, then the realization hit.


He’d asked her to change clothes.


“You planned this.”


His lips curled. “Maybe.”


She looked around the fairly crowded restaurant. Granted, no one was looking at them. They had a semicircular booth, which meant they could scoot together and . . .


No. She wouldn’t dare.


“Do it, Elizabeth. You’re already wet thinking about it, aren’t you?”


Her gaze shifted to Gavin, her thoughts gravitating to how he would do it. What if they got caught? How could she stay quiet?


The danger aspect of it thrilled her. She wanted it, wanted him to shove his fingers inside her and make her come. Now. “Yes.”


“Go take your panties off and let me make you come.”


She grabbed her purse and hurried to the ladies room, dashed into a stall and slipped off her panties, tucking them into her purse. She stopped at the mirror on her way out. Her face was flushed, her pupils dilated with arousal. She was back at the table in no time, her pussy throbbing, her nipples beading against the soft fabric of her dress.


She scooted next to him and reached for her drink, taking a long swallow to quench her thirst.


Gavin leaned over and whispered in her ear while he lifted her dress to her thighs. “The tablecloth is long and will cover anything I’m doing. Put the napkin over your lap, and put some of those shopping bags against your other side.”


She pulled the bags against her, effectively blocking anyone’s view.


“Now spread your legs for me, babe, and let me touch your pussy.”


She widened her legs, and his fingers danced along her inner thigh, sliding down over her sex. She leaned back, needing him to rub her clit, fuck her pussy, take her over the edge, and give her the climax she could already feel building inside.


“Make yourself comfortable. That’s it. Put your elbow against the back of the booth. Turn and look at me like you’re listening to me in conversation. Look at me the whole time, Elizabeth, because I want to see your eyes when you come.”


His fingers slid between the hardened bud and down along her pussy lips, circling over and back up. He was toying with her. She laid her head in her hand, looking like she was relaxed and enjoying conversation with Gavin, but she was primed and tense.


“Gavin, please.”


“Yeah, baby? Tell me what you want.”


“Care for another drink?”


She jerked in surprise, but Gavin seemed cool and relaxed as he turned his head to smile at their waitress.


“I think we’re fine here, Amanda.”


Elizabeth shuddered out a sigh.


“Look at me, Liz.”


She did, and he used his fingers, gliding them over her pussy. She was damp, needy, and she wanted to take his hand and shove his fingers inside her.


“Tell me what you want.”


“I want your fingers inside me, fucking me.”


He dipped the tip of one finger along the surface of her pussy, coating it with her moisture, then moved it back up to sweep across the bud of her clit.


“Stop teasing me. Fuck me. Make me come.”


“The tease is the best part, Elizabeth. Do you know how hard my dick is right now? Do you know how much I want to be inside you or have your mouth wrapped around me? My balls ache. And when we leave here, you’ll make me come. But right now, it’s all about you and your pretty pussy, and getting you off.”