Hot Stuff Read online

  Ocean-blue boxer briefs. And his feelings on the situation, judging by, ahem, his downstairs region, seemed to reflect her own. Thank goodness.

  In a few splashes he was by her side. The heated water suddenly felt scorching. She resisted blowing the strands of her blunt fringe upwards. Just.

  ‘Good choice of villa,’ he murmured, running a hand through his blond tangle of hair.

  She pressed a finger to his sexy lips, her voice turning weirdly husky. ‘Let’s not waste time talking.’

  If they prolonged things any longer, she might combust from anticipation, or worse, back out entirely.

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you always this—?’

  ‘Forward?’ she supplied.

  Harley let out a throaty laugh. ‘I was going to say confident.’

  ‘No,’ Sage admitted. She shrugged, water droplets running down her browned shoulder. ‘But, like they say, what happens in Brisvegas, yada yada.’

  ‘Uh, we’re a little bit further north than Brisbane.’

  ‘True — but it sounded better.’

  Sage dove forwards, laying another kiss on his sculpted lips. Thankfully, he played along. He tasted like the ocean — fresh, salty and inviting. Their limbs dutifully entwined. Bobbing up and down in the water, it seemed hard to know where her body began and his ended.

  Sage could feel his sex deliciously pressing against hers, so she tugged at his boxer briefs. Why delay the inevitable? No harm in their first time being quick. But he grabbed hold of her hand, stopping her.

  She fell into the dark wells of his eyes. ‘Will you let me take charge for a minute?’

  ‘All right,’ she as good as grumbled.

  Scooping her up into his muscular arms, as though she was as light as a sea sponge, he splashed through the water and laid her down on a beach towel on the deck. Then he hovered on all fours above her, trailing kisses down her body, starting at her décolletage, unclipping her bandeau, and continuing south. Any shivering on her part couldn’t be blamed on the weather. Once he got to her stomach, she sucked in a breath. But if he noticed the telltale silvery lines criss-crossing her skin there, he didn’t say anything.

  Oh. She felt the tug as he undid the stringy sides of her briefs, the summer night air caressing the bald skin, and then—ohhhh! She gripped the sides of the towel. His tongue didn’t only know how to work its magic up top. He toyed with her bud as delicately as a pearl on a necklace.

  Suddenly, she sat up, gripping onto his broad shoulders.

  His face, awash with concern, looked more boyish than ever. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

  ‘No, not at all. But if you keep going, I won’t be able to hold on. And I want you inside of me when I paraglide over the cliff.’

  The irresistible dimple flashed in his cheek. ‘Nice metaphor. And as you wish.’

  As she laid back down, he lost his briefs, sought protection from his wallet, and then knelt to trail kisses, this time up her body. Once they were mouth-to-mouth, he positioned himself above her and slid inside, massaging her with his free hand as they moved in rhythm.

  Far out. It was like a never-ending orgasm. She moaned in his mouth, rocking against him. Like Madonna, she felt like a virgin again. It had never been this good, dry spell or not. And now he was sounding his approval, too . . .

  They had another go, after a short wait. In the pool. She, pressed up against the wall of tiny blue tiles, as he thrust into her. It was everything she’d craved, and more. At last, they relaxed in each other’s arms, their slick bodies moulding together.

  ‘Did you eat before?’ Harley suddenly asked at her ear. ‘I’d expected us to have a quick bite downstairs before anything else, and now I’m ravenous.’

  ‘Me, too, actually. I didn’t eat either.’ She supposed a little conversation over dinner would be okay. Besides, she no longer had the stamina of a twenty-five-year-old. ‘I’ll just need some time to freshen up first. Maybe we could meet down at the restaurant in half an hour? If they have a spare seat, that is.’

  At least all the honeymooning couples meant that the eatery was open until late to accommodate the peculiar falling-in-and-out-of-bed hours they kept.

  A smile lit up Harley’s already handsome features. ‘I have a feeling we’ll be fine.’

  ***

  Sage stopped in her tracks halfway across the chic, glassy restaurant. A girl with a white-blonde top-knot was leaning in to kiss a seated Harley on the cheek. Okay, so Sage had no right to be jealous, she’d known Harley less than twelve hours. She did have a right, however, to be outraged. Where had he been hiding the gorgeous blonde all this time? In his surfboard bag? Or did he have a few holiday flings on the go?

  Unfortunately he looked up at that moment and caught her eye. Strangely, his gaze didn’t hold a trace of remorse, and now he was raising a hand to wave her over. Well, she supposed if she got closer, she’d be able to reach a glass of icy water to fling in his face. She strode over, lightly resting her hands on the back of the opposite chair.

  Harley’s smile was disarming. ‘Sage, meet Anika, the brilliant chef here and also my rather brilliant sister.’

  His sister! Der. It also explained her starched all-white outfit, though Sage really hadn’t expected to meet Harley’s family so soon. In fact, not at all.

  The X-rated scenes from earlier at the villa flashed through her mind, as she said a shy ‘pleased to meet you’ and sank into her seat.

  Anika’s brown eyes, reminiscent of Harley’s, sized Sage up. ‘And lovely to meet you. It’s great to see Harley keeping good company. In fact, any company at all.’ Anika reached to ruffle Harley’s hair in a decidedly sibling-like manner. ‘This one can be a bit of a hermit. I knew some time away would be good for him.’

  ‘Thanks, sis.’ Harley mock-rolled his eyes at her. ‘A hermit! Sage already thought I might have a frog figurine obsession, now you’ve just made me look worse.’

  ‘Frog figurines, huh? Hmm, I do remember a fiercely protected collection of action figures back in the day, but we won’t go into that now.’ Anika winked violet-mascaraed lashes. ‘I’ll let you guys peruse the menu.’

  Anika, who seemed lovely by all accounts, showed grace by promptly disappearing. Sage shot Harley a look. ‘So I gather you’re here on a family discount? Nice.’

  ‘Indeed I am.’ Harley reached for a bread roll from the wire basket, showing he really was starving. Sex could do that to a person. Fantastic sex. Harley continued, ‘Right now I’m living a champagne lifestyle on a beer budget. Make that a tap-water budget.’

  ‘Things that tight back home?’ Sage hedged, reaching for a bread roll of her own.

  Rather than a pro surfer, perhaps Harley was the unthinkable: a beach bum. Sage knew there had to be something wrong with him. And hence why she hadn’t planned on doing any digging.

  Harley nodded while spreading butter on his bread. ‘Both renovating my place and running a business have proven expensive.’

  Okay, so maybe not such a beach bum.

  ‘You’re renovating?’ Sage tentatively asked.

  ‘Yeah. Sorry, it’s a bit of an Adelaide thing to talk about your DIY projects . . .’

  Shit.

  ‘You’re from Adelaide?’

  Harley’s dark eyes glimmered with amusement. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a South Aussie, too?’ He shook his head as his leg brushed hers under the table, causing a rash of goosebumps to break out in that very spot. ‘I should have guessed by the way you said “dahnce floor”.’

  ‘That’s generally the giveaway,’ Sage returned tightly, beginning some butter-slathering of her own. This was what happened when she talked to her holiday hook-up; she discovered things that were way too close to home. Like the fact that they shared a hometown! She leapt at the chance for a change in topic. ‘Seeing as we’re both Adelaideans, what kind of place are you renovating?’

  Harley chewed on a mouthful of bread and swallowed. ‘Actually, it’s a converted church. Not that I’m particularl
y religious; I just like old things.’ Including older women, judging by that weekend. Cue his swoon-worthy dimple. ‘You might have noticed from my retro surfboard.’

  Sage took a bite of her own bread and chewed. ‘Shoes, I would have remembered, but your surfboard I’m afraid I can’t even recall.’

  Harley laughed good-naturedly. ‘I’ve got a sister, as you know. I get it.’

  ‘Is your business anything to do with surfing, then?’ She had to ask him a few questions to keep the conversation steamrolling along before the food they were yet to order arrived.

  ‘No, my business is about as far away from the ocean as you can get.’ He toyed with his bread plate, turning it a fraction. ‘I have a vintage and custom motorbike shop, actually. We also serve a mean coffee. Which is why I’ve needed this holiday. I tend to go from working at the shop to working on the renovations at home. It never ends.’

  ‘Well, that explains the mechanic’s hands then,’ Sage lightly teased. ‘And your name!’

  Harley shot her a half-smile. ‘Yeah, I have my dad to thank for my name, and that’s about it . . .’ His mouth twisted bitterly for a moment before returning to its usual sexy form. ‘Anyway, enough about me, what about you? What do you do for a crust, since you asked me?’

  Sage played with her cutlery. ‘Well, it sounds kind of weird, but I have a street-style beauty blog. I used to work in marketing for a big makeup company and just do the blog as a hobby on the side, but then life got a little . . . complicated, and working from home suited me better. Anyway, it’s all worked out well. The blog now generates income from advertising and, well, I love getting to peek into the everyday person’s makeup bag. Plus, it gives me time for . . . other things.’

  ‘Like six-star resort stays?’

  Sage laughed, finally picking up the Michelin-class menu in front of her. ‘I have to admit that this is stretching the budget for me, too. But sometimes you just have to get away, treat yourself.’

  Harley leant forwards with a teasing grin. ‘You don’t pick up surfers every weekend, then?’

  ‘Haha, no, you’re a one-off. My life’s too full for . . . dating.’

  ‘And some say I’ve intentionally made mine that way, too. My sister included.’ Harley shot Sage a wry smile. ‘But if you stay out of trouble, you can’t get your heart broken, right?’

  ‘Right,’ Sage quietly replied. It was all getting a bit deep. She quickly glanced at her menu. ‘Wow, the salmon sure sounds good . . .’

  ***

  Sage’s eyelids sprang open, her gaze landing on the alarm clock radio beside her villa’s bed. Its lime-green digits signalled it was five to seven in the morning. She really was finding it a struggle to stay in holiday mode. Sage hadn’t slept in once, and tonight she was boarding a plane home. As fantastic as her stay had been — Harley’s input included — deep down, she was looking forward to going back. Speaking of Harley . . .

  She rolled over and could see in the semi-darkness that he’d disappeared. There was no outline of his naked body beneath the tangled sheets, despite the bedroom marathon they’d resumed after dinner last night. Obviously, she had been too exhausted to wake at the sound of him leaving. But then, what did she expect from him anyway? Their dalliance was meant to have as much staying power as cheap lipstick. She really should be thanking him for making its ending smooth and painless.

  Well, she was wide awake now anyway, so she may as well get out of bed, as luxurious as the pillow-top, king-size mattress was. Slipping out from under the covers, she padded across the whitewashed wood floor to the window. Throwing open the sapphire-blue curtains, she felt the sun’s rays tickle her bare body. She hadn’t felt so at ease in her birthday suit in a long time.

  Hello, sailor! A wetsuit-clad figure, with a vintage surfboard under his arm, was emerging from the water, in a similar scene to yesterday afternoon at the beach. Okay, so clearly someone else didn’t do holiday mode either, and hadn’t gone as far as she’d thought. Could she really have shared a bed — and beyond — with that dreamy hunk?

  Sage watched Harley leave footprints on the sand all the way up to her villa, then she heard the sound of her outdoor pebble-adorned shower turn on. Maybe the vacation version of herself didn’t have to pack up her travel makeup case just yet . . .

  She tiptoed outside, grabbing some arsenal along the way. Harley, who had his back to her, had since peeled off his wetsuit, leaving the tan lines from his Speedos on full glorious display. And what a behind. She snuck up behind him while he washed the salt-spray from his hair.

  ‘You forgot your “tropical sunset” body-wash,’ she sang out, at last.

  He turned, directing a whiter-than-white beam her way. A smile that seemed wasted in a grimy shop selling hunks of metal largely to men.

  ‘Might need some help with that,’ he said, then spun her around, pressing her back into his chest. Water trickled down the crevice between her breasts, and below . . .

  ‘Hope you don’t have plans for breakfast,’ he murmured into her ear, before going in for a nibble. Sweet mercy!

  ‘Why?’ she challenged him.

  ‘Because my sister said she could organise a gourmet hamper for us to take in our own dinghy to a nearby deserted island. Could make for a romantic picnic.’

  ‘Your sister is very accommodating.’

  ‘She must have liked you.’ Harley leant to kiss Sage’s shoulder. ‘As do I.’

  ‘Guess it beats the breakfast buffet,’ Sage returned, aiming for nonchalant, while ignoring the butterflies kicking up a storm in her stomach.

  Looked like she might get to act out that scene in From Here to Eternity, after all. Why not revel in the fantasy a little while longer? Make like they were on an episode of a glossy reality show à la The Bachelor. Sooner or later, the cameras would stop rolling anyway, and it would be back to the real world with a thud.

  ***

  That thud came, even sooner than Sage expected, in the form of Gia Browne. She and Harley had returned from picnicking (and more) in their own private paradise, and she was now waiting at a poolside bar table for Harley to return with drinks.

  The day had been like a picture-perfect Instagram feed . . . until Gia — nicknamed ‘G-spot’ thanks to her play-hard lifestyle — had planted herself back in Sage’s reality. If only it had been longer since they had worked together. The bandage on Gia’s nose seemed to explain the reason for her holiday. Not that she generally needed an excuse.

  If Gia were an eye-shadow, descriptions might include ‘maximum colour impact’ (from her burgundy crop to her glitzy kaftan) and ‘long-wearing’ (just talking to the whirlwind could mean Sage needed a Panadol and a lie-down afterwards). Gia would also probably come in an eye-shadow hue like navy-blue, because she was a little bit outdated, even if she thought she was forty-five going on twenty-five.

  ‘Can’t believe you’ve escaped the evil clutches of domesticity!’ Gia exclaimed at top volume, swooping in for a lipsticky kiss on Sage’s cheek. ‘You’re the very last person I expected to see out here.’

  Sage tried to discreetly rub away the lippy while feigning a smile. ‘Small world, huh?’

  One which was getting suffocatingly smaller.

  Gia looked from Sage’s windswept locks to her bronzed legs, crossed beneath her fuchsia sarong on the stool. ‘My, Sage, you look so relaxed, you’d hardly believe your life has changed at all. Time away has obviously worked like a charm for you.’ Gia tapped the side of her bandaged schnozzle. ‘I’m here to recuperate from a nose job, in case you hadn’t guessed. Had breathing problems I needed sorting out. Thought I may as well convalesce in style.’

  Funny that people who need nose jobs for ‘breathing problems’ always had huge honkers previously, too . . .

  ‘Anyhoo, how is the gorgeous Aaron?’ Gia carried on. ‘Must have been hard tearing yourself away from his embrace.’

  ‘It was. He’s home. And he’s good, thanks. Very good.’

  Mobile phones were sometimes a virt
ue, try as she had not to use hers too much while away. Gia’s gaze, in the meantime, had fluttered somewhere past Sage’s shoulder and suddenly the redhead looked a little breathless. Like she’d just emerged from diving underwater in the pool. ‘And I thought you didn’t have room for another man in your life!’

  Sage turned to find Harley now standing behind her, grapefruit Caprioskas in hand, his expression caught somewhere between hurt and stony.

  The holiday, it seemed, was officially over.

  ***

  A week later

  Harley watched the striking woman push a pram across the street in the quiet end of town. His shop window was a good vantage point for the passing parade, but she was a step above with her midnight-black hair, feminine curves and urbane outfit. He couldn’t believe his luck — nor let her get away. He’d allowed things to end too abruptly a week ago, cutting off the chance for a proper explanation.

  Moving to his doorway, for once glad that the shop was empty, he waved as the beauty navigated her cumbersome-looking pram onto the footpath. Upon seeing him, Sage almost let go of the pram’s handle.

  ‘H-hi. Wow . . . I never noticed a motorbike shop here before. And I’ve been going to the playgroup down the road for weeks.’ She looked behind him at all the rustic wood, exposed brick, polished concrete, and chrome. Tonnes of hulking chrome. ‘C-cool place.’

  ‘The shop hasn’t been here long.’ He offered her a half-smile. ‘But it’s funny what you see when you look up.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’ Her expression turned bashful. His mystery woman. But at least he had one piece of the jigsaw at hand. He crouched down. ‘So this is Aaron?’

  A toddler, with a mess of black hair and turquoise eyes just like his mother’s, peeked out from the pram. Harley liked kids, but this one was a definite heart-stealer. The boy grabbed hold of his finger with a cheeky ‘mine’. Harley grinned back at the little man.

  ‘Yes, this is Aaron,’ Sage said quietly. ‘Mum took good care of him while I was away. In fact, she had to virtually push me out the door to go in the first place! I-I wanted to tell you at the resort about him, when Gia dropped her bombshell, but I’ve just found it easier to keep my life free of . . . complications. For myself and Aaron. Like I said, my life’s pretty full right now.’