Juniper and I had our first Samhain books come out very close together and I know she was a great support to me and I hope I was the same to her. We did our first promotional chat for the books together and laughed through it the whole time because neither of us had done it before at that particular location. It was fun and I have enjoyed having her as a friend. We have been able to help one another through good and not so good when it comes to this business. She’s got wicked skills, too…smiles
For Annie Swenson, only one cure works better than psychotherapy… Annie’s afraid of heights, she’s afraid of crowds, and she’s not too crazy about flying. When her therapist orders her to take a vacation, she picks remote Cat Island in the Bahamas, hoping to hide away. Mortified to find she’s the only single woman at the resort, she pretends the handsome, mysterious stranger behind her in the buffet line is her boyfriend. He goes along with the charade … for a price! The choice is simple: reveal her sham or go along with his erotic, boundary-pushing games. Annie’s life will never be the same after her sensual encounters with The Extremist.
Next to her was the remarkable, amazing presence of Martin. She had never been so intensely aware of anyone in her life. She knew when he reached for his glass. She knew when he looked out at the dark ocean. She knew when he wanted to change the direction of the conversation. Every time she glanced over at him, he met her eyes with a look of amused approval.
He was either a hallucination or an angel.
Gratefully, she shifted her chair to be closer to him. She leaned her body into his and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. Looking up, she caught that playful smile she was beginning to adore, but this time, it had a wicked edge to it.
He turned to Missy and Daryl and leaned forward to ask them an innocuous question about their last trip to the Bahamas. At the same time, a big warm hand touched her knee, and Annie bit back a startled shriek. The hand squeezed until she gained control of herself. Then it began a slow, teasing march up her thigh.
“Did you enjoy Nassau?” Martin asked, looking extremely interested in the Hertzbergers’ response.
Meanwhile, his hand pushed under the edge of her skirt, and Annie bit the inside of her lip. He smoothed her inner thigh, making circular patterns on the tender skin. His palm was surprisingly rough-skinned. Did he work with his hands?
“Oh sure, I think it’s thoroughly stunning,” she heard Martin say, and from the teasing tone of his voice, she knew he was referring to her. His hand gently pulled her leg so it brushed against his. She felt a finger pull back the edge of her panties, and fresh air moved against her private parts. She couldn’t stop a surprised little gasp from escaping.
“Are you okay, Annie?” asked Missy.
“Yes,” she said in a strangled tone.
“Take a sip of wine,” said Martin, and the quietly masterful tone in his voice made her obey instantly. As she sipped from her glass, Martin took the opportunity to pull her panties completely away from her sex. She held the glass in front of her burning face, as though admiring the wine.
My God, she was entirely exposed to anyone who happened to be under the table. No one was, but the thought brought a flutter of terror. At the same time, it made moisture drip down her thighs.
Martin’s thumb was now holding back her panties while his fingers went on a determined quest through the wet folds of her sex. He found her clitoris and teased it with his forefinger, pressing it, circling it. His finger left her for a moment to dip into her heated sex. She felt its curious exploration; each little movement sent new shocks through her body. Then the finger withdrew, and it felt like eons before it returned, slick from her wetness, to continue rubbing her clitoris. Although she didn’t dare look at him, she felt his satisfied smile.
Annie thought she might die from the excruciating sensations he was creating. She couldn’t bear it another moment. She had to make him stop, but when she tried to close her legs, he pinched her clitoris just enough to make her yelp.
“Did you say something, Annie?” Missy flicked her cigarette ash into the clamshell ashtray.
“Did you get bitten by one of those bugs, honey?” said Martin tenderly. “They’ve been driving me crazy all night.” He took her whole crotch in his hand and gripped it tightly.
“Maybe it’s time to go inside,” she managed with a remarkable degree of dignity.
“One more glass, what do you all say?” said Martin, with an infectious enthusiasm that made Daryl pour another round. “We’re on vacation, darling. We don’t want to disappoint your friends, do we?” He winked at her.
Disappoint her friends? Annie got the message. If she didn’t let him continue, he might expose their charade to Missy and Daryl. No matter what he did, it wouldn’t be worse than that humiliation. No doubt about it, Martin was in control here. He had all the cards. The only question was, what did he intend to do with them?
As she gripped the edge of her chair, he showed her. He stroked her until her sex was pulsing with red-hot need, until she had to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming. She summoned every ounce of willpower – every particle of control – to keep her face still and her body immobile. He plunged two fingers inside her, then three. When it felt like his whole hand was inside her body, he pulled her forward, so she had to shift to the very edge of the chair. That changed his angle so his wrist could rub against her throbbing clitoris.
Annie felt the world had split in two. Beneath the table, her body was on fire. Her legs were quivering; her sex, screaming for release. Above the table, she was a calm statue with an interested smile plastered to her face. Daryl was in the middle of a long story about a trip to Australia, and luckily, Annie only had to nod now and then. This she did, at random moments.
She completely lost the thread of the story when the heel of Martin’s hand ground into her clitoris. A rush of pleasure overwhelmed her, and she could no longer even make out the other couple’s faces. Everything was a blur: Missy’s head thrown back to draw on a cigarette, Daryl’s arm draped across the back of her chair, the swaying palm trees, the hanging lanterns, and the wait staff lounging around a nearby table. The scent of the sea drifted from the beach and seemed to join with the sharp taste of wine swirling through her senses in a wild tsunami. She balanced on the unbearable edge of a tall cliff, dying to fall, terrified to fall. Despite herself, she pressed into that insistent hand. She felt the flush on her face, felt her breath coming faster through her clenched lips.
“Have a little more wine, darling,” she heard Martin say. How on earth could he sound so calm, when he held a handful of dripping, scalding crotch? Jerkily, she moved to obey. “Here, let me,” he said, as her hands shook. He reached in front of her, blocking her from the Hertzbergers, and in that instant, he tightened his grip, inside and out, as if making a fist around her privates. Now she had no choice. Burying her face into his back, she rocketed over the edge into a freefall of ecstasy. She didn’t know where she was anymore. All she was, all she wanted to be, was a pile of hot, wet, pulsing flesh being shaken and squeezed by that relentless lion’s paw of a hand.
As the spasms died away, Martin slowly sat back. With one part of her mind, Annie wondered what she could possibly look like now. Were her eyes glassy, her face red? The rest of her mind was still below the table, where Martin’s hand patted her twitching flesh and smoothed her wet curls. She desperately wanted to close her legs, but still he wouldn’t let her. Not until he’d had his fill of caressing her, put her panties back into place, and pulled her skirt back to her knees. Then he closed her legs and gave her a gentle pat on the knee.