Title: Love and Lust in the Tropics

Author: Derrick West

Genre: Erotic Romance paranormal elements

Series: Timeless Love

Publish Date: February 14, 2015

Publisher: Independently published

ISBN: 9780982639153

ASIN: B00S5JRF74

Price: $2.99 USD

~ Book Synopsis ~

Time has separated Donovan and Leigh, but they’ve rediscovered the love they had in college. Donovan is everything Leigh has ever wanted in a man, but the past she’s hidden for years may pull them apart. During a winter getaway on an exotic Caribbean island, they discover that their love may be part of an ancient mystery deeper and more powerful than they could have imagined. Will these ancient secrets prove too intense for their love, driving them apart, or will they be swept along the ancient and secret path, into a world of enduring passion and timeless love?

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High Altitude Play

Finishing up in the bathroom, she opens the door to see Donovan standing there. She’s about to edge past him so he can get in, when she has another thought. Peeking around the door to make sure nobody else is around, Leigh steps back into the restroom, motioning for Donovan to hold the door open. Lifting her dress slightly, she reaches beneath it, pushing her underwear slowly down across her thighs, over her knees, letting them fall to her feet. Stepping out of them, she picks them up and sets them on the countertop.

Letting her dress fall back in place, she brushes up against him as she steps past and out the door. “Don’t be long.” Flashing a seductive smile toward him, she glances back at the panties on the countertop one last time before sauntering slowly down the aisle toward their row. Captivated by the sexy way her dress sways back and forth as she walks, Donovan is certain he catches the faintest outline of her perfect ass occasionally as the silky material catches now and then.

Returning to his seat and settling in, Donovan notices the blanket pulled up around Leigh’s shoulders, and asks, “Are you cold?”

Smiling, pulling the edge of the blanket over his arm resting on the armrest. “Not really–I just felt like covering up a little,” she says as she traces her fingertips along his forearm under the blanket.

She loves to touch his arms. They aren’t massive and pumped-up like a body-builder’s arms, but hard with an enduring strength built from a lifetime of work and fitness. She feels the hard cords of muscle in his forearm beneath her touch, and moves her hand up across the crook in his elbow, feeling the hard bicep, running her hand up and down, her fingertips reaching inside the sleeve of his polo shirt.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she wonders how long it will take him to discover that beneath the blanket, she’s shrugged her shoulders out of the straps of her sundress, leaving her breasts exposed, the rough blanket brushing against them occasionally. Feeling his strong arm beneath her touch, she warms considerably, wanting his touch on her skin, wanting him to discover the surprise she has for him under the blanket.

As if reading her mind, he turns his head and looks in her eyes, the deep blue in his eyes reflecting the bright daylight from the window behind her. She feels him looking directly into her soul, his penetrating gaze feeling what she feels, seeing what she thinks. He moves slowly toward her, and she pulls lightly on his arm to encourage him. She aches to feel his lips on hers, to feel him touch her skin. Her hands pull his hand toward her bare skin as he brings his lips toward hers. Like a magnet close to steel, they’re drawn together with a force that neither can resist.

She’s directed his hand perfectly without thinking about it, and she feels his fingers wrap around her breast just as his lips come to hers. A smile plays across his mouth as their lips touch softly, pausing in that sweet place at the beginning of a kiss. His warmth radiates to her parted lips, their breath flowing and mixing, back and forth, as his fingertips begin to explore the breast she’s exposed for him beneath the blanket.

This is such a luscious moment in kissing for Leigh, this gentle little prelude. Their lips barely touch each other, softly dancing together in the warmth of their shared breath. Now and then she feels the tip of his tongue slip across her lips, wetting them slightly. The soft touch of his fingertips is in perfect harmony with the soft touch of his lips, and she finds herself languishing in the deep succulence of this soft moment, and simultaneously aching for more.

She moves up and toward him, into his lips, her hand falling across the armrest and into his lap, leaving the protection of the blanket. The swelling within his jeans is evident, encouraged by her touch. Moving her fingers up under his untucked polo shirt, she unbuckles his belt, and pushes her hand down the front of his jeans, maneuvering the growing hardness there.

Continuing to grow and swell under her touch, the head of Donovan’s hard shaft is soon pushed up under the waistband of his jeans, poking out slightly. Her breathing becomes more shallow and rapid as his hands softly knead her breast beneath the blanket, and her fingertips trace lightly around the head of his shaft as it continues to swell.

Their kiss has remained soft, full of the warm breath of love. Playfulness has become integral to the love that binds them together, and Leigh loves these moments when play expresses that love. She’s so wrapped up in that sweet moment that she doesn’t notice the flight attendant until she repeats herself.

“Would you like the omelet or the fruit tray for breakfast this morning?”

Scrambling suddenly to cover up their play, they fumble just a bit. Leigh recovers first. “Oh, sorry. I’ll take the fruit tray please.”

Donovan leans forward with his hands in his lap, attempting to hide the swelling there, and answers, “Right. And I’ll have the omelet please.”

The flight attendant is clearly aware of their play, and smiles at Leigh as she reaches up into the overhead to grab another blanket. “Maybe you could use another one of these,” she says, coyly arching an eyebrow as she sets the blanket in Donovan’s lap. Her eyes never leave Leigh’s eyes, and her smile is both warm and playful. “My name is Debra, and I’ll be taking care of you on our flight today. I’ll get your breakfast out right away, then you should have a quiet flight without much interruption.”

About the Author

Derrick West spends winters on his sailboat in Florida, and summers at his cabin in the northern Rockies. He grew up in the Midwest, graduating from a large university there before embarking on an adventurer’s lifestyle working as a smokejumper, river guide, and mountaineer. He writes as an outlet for the innate sense of romance he believes is within all of us.