The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm. Kate Hoffmann

he asked.

      “Yes,” Amy said in a soft voice. “Much.”

      “Sit,” he said.

      She did as he asked and Mal knelt down and took her foot in his hand, brushing the sand from between her toes and then gently rubbing until her foot was warm. He did the same for the other foot, and within a few minutes, Amy was no longer shivering.

      Until Mal leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her instep.

      Amy drew a quick breath and he raised his eyes to meet her gaze. She sighed softly. “That felt good. Do it again.” It was the closest she could come to an open invitation. Go ahead, ravish me, was what she really wanted to say. But then, that would be very bold, even given her newfound courage.

      His lips found the arch of her foot. Though it was an odd way to begin a seduction, to Amy it seemed even more intimate than kissing her mouth. Slowly, his lips traced a path from her foot to the inside of her calf.

      When the quilt got in the way, Mal braced his hands on either side of her and brushed a kiss onto the exposed skin of her shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Amy wondered about the ethics of what she was doing, about the wisdom of sleeping with a man she still wanted to interview. But he’d said himself she wouldn’t be able to convince him, and once he touched her, none of it mattered.

      Mal’s lips found hers again and this time his kiss was a lovely mixture of desire and surrender, soft and sweet, yet filled with unrestrained need. He moved his mouth to her neck, pulling the quilt aside to kiss the spot below her ear.

      He cupped her face in his hands and moved back to her mouth. Amy’s fingers clutched at his T-shirt, pulling him closer until he was nearly lying on top of her.

      It felt wonderful to have the weight of a man’s body stretched out over hers. And though she ought to have considered this more carefully, at this point Amy’s desire far outweighed her common sense.

      “Are you warm enough?” he asked. “Or do you want to take that shower?” He paused. “Or we could crawl under the covers on my bed and I could—”

      “Okay,” Amy interrupted. “Bed sounds good.”

      She didn’t hesitate and stood up beside the sofa, the quilt still wrapped around her body. Amy could barely catch her breath. It was as if she was tumbling down a mountainside and she couldn’t seem to gain a foothold. Things were moving so fast, and she felt as if she’d lost all touch with reality. But now that she’d gained momentum, she didn’t want to stop. She couldn’t.

      There was no use denying the attraction. It had been there from the moment he’d first looked at her. In truth, it had been there from the very first time she’d seen his photograph. He was the kind of guy she could only dream about having—handsome, charming, fearless.

      And now she’d been handed the chance to be with him, to experience something she might never find in her life again. Sure, she’d had lovers in the past, but they’d never lived up to her expectations. They’d never made her feel wild and uninhibited. Just once, she wanted to be with a man who could make her heart pound and her body ache.

      Just a week ago, she’d been curled up on her sofa in her Brooklyn flat, eating a pint of cherry-chocolate-chip ice cream and watching a string of romantic comedies. That had been her life, waiting for Mr. Right. Well, it was time to stop waiting. She’d found Mr. Right Now here in a bach on the beach in New Zealand.

      This wouldn’t be about love or even affection. It would about pure, unadulterated passion. This would be the adventure she’d never been brave enough to take, the mountain she’d been too fearful to climb. She wasn’t about to pass this opportunity by. If she couldn’t leave New Zealand with a story, then she’d leave with a damn good memory.

      Mal stopped at the bedroom door and she glanced inside to see a large, comfortable bed covered with a deep down duvet. Mal grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head against the door frame, searching her gaze intently. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he murmured, pressing his hips against hers.

      The quilt fell away, leaving Amy dressed only in her damp underwear. She could feel his desire beneath the faded fabric of his jeans. He was already completely aroused. Amy wanted to touch him there, to smooth her fingers over the hard ridge of his erection. She could be bold, too. “Yes,” she said, pushing back with her body.

      He kissed her again, his lips and tongue demanding a response. She opened beneath the assault and did her best to match his intensity. And when he groaned, Amy knew that she was exactly what he wanted. Untangling her fingers from his, she let her hands drop to his shoulders and then his chest.

      Gently, she pushed him away, then walked into the bedroom and stood at the end of the bed, facing away from him. With trembling fingers, she reached for the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. A moment later, her panties lay at her feet. She couldn’t make her need much more evident. She heard his breath catch as she turned to face him.

      A tiny sliver of doubt coursed through her. She’d never been more vulnerable than she was now. But Amy didn’t care. For once in her life, she had the courage she’d always wanted. And, as long as he was there, it wasn’t going to leave her.

      He approached her slowly and Amy’s knees began to give way. She wanted to sit down on the end of the bed, but she was afraid to move. As if Mal sensed her distress, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her against him.

      His palms smoothed over her spine, drifting down to her waist and then cupping her backside. The sensation of his touch made every nerve in her body sing with anticipation until she felt as if the tingling would never stop. Gently, he moved her to the bed, then pulled them both down in a tangle of limbs.

      As he kissed her again, he began to strip off his clothes. First his T-shirt, then his belt and jeans. She was so distracted by his single-minded assault on her mouth that when he stretched out on top of her, the touch of his skin against hers was a shock.

      Amy held her breath, taking it all in. Was this really happening to her? She tried to keep a clear head, knowing that after it was over, she’d want to savor every detail again, but Mal was determined to drive her over the edge with passion.

      His lips trailed across her shoulder, then moved lower. She waited for the touch of his tongue on her nipple, but he continued down, halting at the spot between her legs. A moan tore from her throat as his tongue began to tease at her sex.

      Amy’s body tensed and she felt as if she was about to leap out of her own skin. Every flick, every gentle suck, sent wave after wave of delicious sensation coursing through her. She arched against him, unable to ask for more yet needing him to continue.

      He knew exactly what he was doing and he showed no uncertainty. Mal wanted her complete surrender and Amy didn’t care what it cost. Her fingers slipped through his thick hair and she coaxed him on as he brought her closer to the edge. Her heart slammed in her chest and her body writhed against his mouth. And suddenly, she was there.

      The world exploded in a riot of unbearable sensation, shudders of pleasure racking her body. He continued on until she was desperate to stop, the torment too sweet for her to bear. “Stop,” she whispered.

      He slowly brought her body down from the peak, the spasms subsiding until she was left boneless and mindless, a victim of his seduction. Mal pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh and she stared down at him.

      “That was lovely,” he said with a wicked smile.

      Amy wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry. It had been lovely. Better than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. And she wanted to do it again. But she couldn’t help the doubts creeping into her head. Had she made a mistake? How was she supposed to live the rest of her life knowing that this was what passion was really about?

      After it was all over, she’d have had her adventure. But then what? Was she meant to go home and forget it had ever happened?

      No. If she wanted everything, the perfect experience, then it