Friendly Fire

Friendly Fire

After Agent Kendall Frasier’s partner is shot in “friendly fire” during a drug bust, she agrees to take a week’s vacation on a tropical island as part of her psychiatric evaluation. Sand, sun, sea—what could be better to help her work through her guilt? Even if the presence of the man responsible for the shooting, Agent Zane Vincent, seems counterproductive to her mental health.

As Kendall gets to know Zane, and realizes he feels worse about what happened than she does, it becomes impossible to hate him. And their mutual attraction becomes impossible to deny.

Kendall and Zane soon agree to put the event that brought them together in the past—and spend the present exploring their most erotic desires. Do they have a future in the real world when their week in paradise is over?

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Kendall pulled the dress off over her head, hung it carefully in the closet, and padded to the luxurious shower. “Ah.” The sound of pure pleasure burst from her throat at the sight. “There’d better be plenty of hot water.”

She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it, then ducked beneath the spray. Four different jets pounded her flesh while a wide head rained water from directly above her and two more sprinkled her from the sides. She played with the controls for a minute and was rewarded by the hiss of steam that rapidly began to fill the enclosure. With a sigh of relief so great it puffed a hole in the steam on the glass, Kendall sank onto the wide bench and stretched out.

The bench was long enough she could lie down on it if she wanted. Now, there was a thought. Whoever had designed this shower must certainly have planned its use for more than one occupant at a time. It was just too damned decadent for only one person.

She sighed again as the water pounded and kneaded her. She was the only one here, but that was something she was used to by now. If she waited for a man to fulfill her, she’d be a dried-up old maid before she got laid.

Kendall shifted a little on the bench and parted her knees. The water from one of the jets began to beat directly against her clit. The pressure was too intense, and she moved back a bit…Ahh. There. Right there. The water thrummed on her with enough pressure to bring her to full arousal, but not quite enough to get her off.

She reached up and pulled the washcloth from its hook. A squirt of liquid soap came next. She coated herself in the foam, stroking herself in small, circular motions that soon had her pressing against the swirling circles of her fingers. The steam writhed around her like a phantom lover.

Kendall moaned her pleasure and lifted her hips again toward the beating jet. The water washed away all the soap and had her clit throbbing so close to orgasm she saw bright sparks in front of her eyes. It was enough, but not enough. This would make her come, but it wouldn’t finish her.

She moved away from the water, allowing her arousal to plateau. What she really needed was a man inside her and above her. Vincent’s face flashed in her mind and brought a spasm to her clit. She got up from the bench and switched the water to cold. Time to cool herself down, especially if she was thinking of him in that way.

The cold water didn’t turn her off. On the contrary, it got her blood flowing and her pussy throbbing even harder. She turned away from the spray needling her nipples to aching hardness and put a hand on the shower wall. Her other hand found the swollen knob of her clitoris. Head down, pounded by the spray, she slipped a finger inside herself, then another, while she used the heel of her palm to push on her clit.

Her body was on fire. Her thighs shook with the force of her impending climax. It wasn’t enough. She was faint with the desire she’d brought upon herself, but she wanted more. Again, his face flashed in her head, and she cursed aloud.

She shut off the water and grabbed a towel. The thick fabric soaked up the water immediately. As she patted herself between the legs, another small spasm wracked her. It was sweet torture, pleasuring herself like this. She could make the moment last forever, but knew that when it was over, she’d feel relaxed but unfulfilled.

A double-edged sword. One more stroke, maybe only two, and her body would shatter and rejoin in the ecstasy of climax. Make it last a little longer, and she’d come harder. But when it was over…she’d still have to go to sleep alone.

Kendall tucked her towel securely beneath her arms and went outside. It was like being kissed instantly, all over, by a dozen mouths. She went to the low brick wall that surrounded the patio and leaned against it to look toward the beach. She could catch only a glimpse of white sand through the thick foliage, but she could hear the constant beat of the waves, and that reminded her of the way the water had beat on her clit.

Her arousal had lessened in the few minutes she’d spent leaving the shower, but she was still close enough to climax with just a few well-timed strokes. She bent over the wall, aware of the way the towel rode up on her thighs and allowed the cool night air to caress her there. She spread her legs a little to allow it better access. The coarse bricks scraped her skin a bit, but that only added to the sensations.

She spread her fingers on the brick and tilted her pelvis forward to catch her swollen clit on the thick terry cloth towel. It was tantalizing, that brush of soft fabric against her nub. Slickness coated her thighs as she moved again, so slightly nobody would know what she was doing if they were…

Watching her.

She smelled his cologne just before the bright red flare of light caught the corner of her vision, and she smelled smoke. With a gasp, Kendall whirled so fast her towel slid off her breasts. She caught it with one hand and pulled it up. A corner of the thick fabric caught between her thighs, and the movement against her center sent a slow, hot wave of contractions through her.

Oh, God, she was going to come, and she couldn’t stop it. She was going to come in front of…

“Vincent!” she cried. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She gripped the wall and willed herself not to shake, not to moan, not to let him know exactly what was happening. Her body had taken over. Her clit pounded and she felt the heat of it on her chest and throat. Her vision blurred and swam as her desire rushed through her, as she came in front of him, helplessly.

He paused before answering. The moon had risen and outlined his form in glimmers of silver against the black silhouette. The tip of his cigarette glowed red in harsh contrast as he inhaled.

“A pipe burst in my room. This was the only room left. They moved me after dinner.”

She swayed as if drunk, still caught in the aftermath of her orgasm. Her clit throbbed mercilessly. Kendall took a deep breath and pulled the towel closer around her and willed her voice not to shake.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Smoking a cigarette.” She couldn’t see his face, but the amusement in his voice was plain. “What are you doing?”

He couldn’t know. Could he? The thought should have mortified her, but instead another thrill coursed through her body at the idea Zane Vincent might have figured out she’d been climaxing.

“I like the noise of the ocean,” Kendall said. Her voice had gone low and husky, throaty, quite unlike her usual tone. “It makes me feel…”

“What?” His voice, if it were possible, had dropped even lower. Vincent shifted in his patch of moonlight, and a spear of silver highlighted his full lips. Another slanted across his deep brown eyes, turning them to copper for an instant in the flash. “Makes you feel sexy?”

Kendall turned away, her heart thudding. She sought the glimpse of the sea, tried to calm herself, but her body was betraying her. She felt his gaze boring into her like flames licking at her flesh, but she refused to turn and look.