Tropical Sin: Bandicoot Cove, Book 3 by Lexxie Couper Read Free Book Online Page B

her nipples were erect and hard beneath the thin cotton of her shirt, he suspected Nick was in her head as well.
    Which should have made him jealous as all hell, but instead made him so fucking aroused his cock was a rod of agonized steel.
    The world’s most lusted-after celebrity, the man described by Rolling Stone magazine as “sin and sex and soul”, was inspired by what he and McKenzie had. How could he not be turned on?
    Aidan gazed at her, unable to find the words to vocalize his thoughts.
    She studied him, her eyes wide, her lips parted, the tiny pulse at the base of her neck beating so quickly he could see it fluttering beneath her smooth skin.
    Did he ask her? Did he dare?
    He didn’t have to. A small smile began to pull at her lips, the kind he recognized so very well: the kind that said she was with him. No matter what, she was with him. He’d seen it so many times since he’d first met her that if he were an artist, he could draw it with his eyes closed. But he wasn’t an artist, he was a firefighter. And a man. The luckiest fucking man on the planet.
    He cocked an eyebrow at her and let his own smile stretch his lips. I’m with you too.
    Without a word to either him or Nick, McKenzie turned and crossed the suite’s carpeted floor, her hips swaying in that naturally sensual way he knew was unpracticed or contrived, her naked butt barely hidden by the hemline of the shirt she wore.
    She stopped at the expensive iPod docking station that was part of the suite’s luxurious inclusions, bending a little at the waist until her fingertips swirled over the iPod she’d placed there on checking in.
    He heard Nick suck in a swift breath at the teasing glimpse of her perfect arse peeking out at them from beneath the rising hem of her shirt. Heard the man’s feet shuffle a little, and then the room filled with the low, muted sounds of Nick Blackthorne singing the love ballad that catapulted him onto the world’s music stage and gave him his first number one selling, multi-platinum release: “Night Whispers”.
    The smoldering lyrics wafted from speakers embedded in the walls, Nick’s voice husky and raw, the lyrics lamenting the loss of love when courage failed.
    Aidan sucked in his own breath. He knew this song so very well. He’d danced with McKenzie at their high school formal to this song. The only slow dance they’d ever shared.
    “ And I want to beg but I can’t find the words ,” Nick from fifteen years ago sang, the evocative sound of an acoustic guitar his only accompaniment.
    “And I want to cry but I can’t find the tears.
    “And all that’s left is the shadow of your heart and the ghost of your smile…
    “And the whispers in the night.”
    Aidan’s throat grew tighter. Thicker.
    As did his cock.
    But no more so than when McKenzie—her back still to him and Nick—crossed her arms in front of her body and slowly, without turning to face them, lifted her shirt up over her head.
    Aidan’s heart skipped a beat.
    Jesus Christ.
    Her back was beautiful. He devoured its sublime perfection with greedy eyes, following the subtle curve of her spine from the smooth column of her neck down to the equally smooth curves of her arse cheeks. His mouth filled with water at the sight of the twin dimples denting her flesh just above the swell of each one, his cock jerking with insistent need.
    “Bloody hell,” he heard Nick murmur behind him.
    “ And all that’s left is the shadow of your heart and the ghost of your smile… ” Nick crooned from the iPod, his voice cracking, the guitar strings echoing his torment. “And the whispers in the night.”
    McKenzie turned to face them.
     
    Two sets of eyes moved over her naked body. Two men staring at her with undeniable, molten want.
    McKenzie stood still. Erect. The suite’s cool, air-conditioned air slipped over her exposed flesh, between her thighs, over the folds of her sex and her taut nipples. A ripple of wanton delight claimed her, making her