He pushed the decorative wood gate wide and studied the enormous yellow fronds hanging from a couple of the banana trees. He’d cut those off first and then…
As his glance swept the patio area surrounding the kidney-shaped pool, he saw the bare-breasted goddess sprawled on a chaise lounge. She wore tiny navy bikini bottoms and nothing else. Her breasts were incredibly lush and so pale, faint blue veins crisscrossed her delicate skin. His gaze lowered to her huge belly and lust licked him up one side and down the other. She was obviously pregnant. He glanced past her for a husband or lover and saw no one. When he looked back at her, she was struggling to grab up the silky sarong lying on the tiles and pull it across her breasts and belly.
His body burned for her. She didn’t know it yet, but she was his. His! But first, he needed to find out if she was free. Hell, no pregnant woman who looked like her would be single
. Blood poured into his cock until he was thick and hard. His trunks were brief and wouldn’t contain his erection for long. He slowly moved the blower until it blocked his arousal from her.
NATALIA GASPED WHEN she saw the incredibly sexy man walk through the gate. Muscles sculpted and toned his entire body. Shadows and light alternated, as if airbrushed on. His midnight black hair was worn short and his thick eyelashes were just as dark. His skin was bronzed, but with olive undertones. She guessed him to be of Cuban descent.
A strongly defined jaw appeared to be clenched. A tattoo adorned half his left arm. His attention had been on the banana trees, but he must have sensed her movement because he turned her way.
Shock held her immobile. And then she lunged into action, as much as her awkward pregnant body would allow. Reaching for the sarong she had dropped to the ground, she pulled it over her body, her face flushed.
His dark eyes were stunned as he watched her. She swore his eyes blazed with heated ardor and his expression surprised her. Men did not look at her that way.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said, his voice smooth, deep, and hypnotizing.
Enthralled, Natalia stared at him.
She had been sunbathing only about half an hour. It was early, maybe ten. On the first full day of her vacation, she wanted to start out slow, warming to the sun in the mornings before she ventured out in the afternoons.
The sun warmed her, kissing her bare skin and as she’d lain there, gazing off at the water in the bay and at the attractive palm trees, she’d become aroused and was now incredibly wet. Just moments ago, she’d thought about slipping a hand into her bikini and stroking her swollen clit.
The man stepped closer and his nostrils flared, as if he caught the scent of her arousal. Her face flamed in embarrassment.
“I’m Rafael Ortega. My friends call me Rafe. I understood that the Espositos would not vacation here this year.”
Natalia cleared her throat. “That’s true. Carmela is too far along in her pregnancy to travel. She’s a good friend of mine and offered me use of the villa for the next month. Are you the gardener?”
He stilled, as if to choose his words carefully. “Yes. And you are?”
“Natalia Morrisey.” Her voice came out raspy and did not sound like her usual self.
“Beautiful name. What do your friends call you? Nat?” He shifted the wicked looking knife and blower to his other hand, but kept the tools in front of him. She tried hard not to lower her eyes and glance at his tools.
Her face burning with erotic heat, she nodded.
He held out a hand to her. Despite his dirty garden work, his nails looked short and clean, his fingers long and elegant.
“I’m pleased to meet you. You are here…alone?” he asked.
He glanced at her bare ring finger where her hand still clutched the wrap in a death grip. The sarong hugged her curves like draped silk and she knew she might as well be lying there naked. She nodded, unable to speak.
“You are obviously pregnant. Why does your man allow you to travel alone?”
Natalia cleared her throat again. She wondered if he was thinking that she was due soon because she could easily pass for a woman in her eighth month. “He left us. I mean… I’m divorced now.”
His eyes widened and lowered once again. “Your man left you and your child?”
She glanced at the hand he still held and gave it a little tug. “Yes. He decided he wasn’t ready to start a family.”
He let go of her and she saw his fingers curl into a fist. His heated gaze swept over her body again and she had the feeling he wanted to yank her wrap away. Natalia gasped at the thought, discovering that even though she would have been outraged, her ripe breasts ached in anticipation as if they had been bared to him once more. She shifted the sarong, making sure the bulk of her body was covered, and her nipples tightened as the material dragged across the sensitive tips.
“You’re a beautiful woman who is enjoying the privacy the villa has to offer. Don’t let me interrupt. I won’t bother you. If you need anything, I live next door. I’ll do the gardening tomorrow morning.” His gaze lowered from her face, slowly moved over her breasts, belly, and down her legs to the tips of her pudgy toes.
Her face flushed, she glanced over the wall and saw the top of the Spanish style contemporary home, with its red roof tiles and yellowed walls.
He lowered the blower and knife he held in his left hand, his biceps bulging as he held the tools, and her gaze flicked back to him. The moving of the tools revealed his massively aroused cock. At the top of his waistband, a shadowed gap revealed a sliver of his cockhead. Her eyebrows shot upwards. She licked her dry lips and hurried to raise her eyes back to his face.
He stared down at her, his eyes dark pools of smoldering fire. Natalia struggled to slow her breath. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“That would be lovely,” she said, a choke building in her throat. She lay before this stranger draped in a silky sheath, almost naked, her pregnant belly, enormous teardrop breasts, and soft pale thighs hard to ignore. And he didn’t attempt to. “It’s kind of lonely here.”
He had not smiled once and that fact made her shiver. Could she trust this stranger?
“I will come for you at six.” His scorching look made her nipples tighten and he noticed. “And you will come for me at eight. Don’t spend too much time in the sun and don’t pleasure yourself.”
Don’t pleasure herself?
Her heart fluttered as he turned to walk away, heading back through the gate, not looking back once to see if she caught his meaning.
His taut, rounded butt was as attractive as the rest of him. His short swim trunks were the shortest she’d ever seen, molded to his body like the proverbial glove.
In Cincinnati, men were much more conservative and wore mid-thigh or knee-length trunks, and she was reserved at home as well. Clothes on and fantasies at a minimum.
Had he meant what she thought he meant? No. She must have misunderstood. Her body hummed with arousal, her breasts heavy, her vagina and labia slick with her cream. She hadn’t had any fantasies in a long time and with his words, she was a hot, glorious mess.