Isle of Sensuality by Aimee Duffy Page B

next fix.
    * * * *
    Rays of sunlight beamed through the patio doors, warming Caitlyn’s naked back. Her mind still foggy, she rolled over and willed herself to fall asleep again so she could go back into the dream that had felt so gloriously real. An uncomfortable sensation between her thighs cleared the last of the haze. She jolted upright, bringing Jake’s sheets to her chin. It had not been a dream. She had really spent the night with Jake.
    Caitlyn took in the empty room. Disappointment flared as she noticed he was gone. Had he bored of her already? Caitlyn knew she was no match for the array of women he publicly dated. They were all glamorous and beautiful. She was a far cry from either. Still, she couldn’t shake the fact that he’d seemed as into her as she was him.
    But was it really her? Last night she’d practically acted like a wanton seductress. Something she’d never had the courage to do. Maybe what Jake had insinuated about the drink was right. Maybe she had been drunk. After all, how would she know?
    Blood boiled in her cheeks. She had to get out of there before he came back. Sweeping a hand over her hair, she groaned. Perfect. Not only had she seduced Jake into having a one-night stand, she also had hair like an unkempt haystack!
    She leapt from the bed, wrapping the sheet securely around her torso. Clothes. She needed clothes. Desperately, she paced to the foot of the bed and was relieved to see her leggings and shirt tangled amongst his towel. A vision of her unleashing the bare flesh beneath that towel made her face flare hotter and her heart race.
    She really needed to get out of there.
    Picking up her discarded clothes, she turned to the en-suite when she saw Jake. He stood in the doorway, dressed in nothing but his underwear, with a tray in his hands. She caught the scent of eggs and coffee and her stomach growled.
    “Leaving so soon?” Jake’s eyes tightened, belying the casual tone.
    “I’m just getting dressed.” Liar. Caitlyn felt more blood rush into her face.
    He cocked an eyebrow. “Chicken.”
    “I am not a chicken. I have places to be.” She fisted her hands around her clothes as she thought of a better lie. “Work.”
    “It’s Saturday. We’re not filming today.”
    Of course. She sighed. Might as well tell the truth, Cait. You’ve been busted. “I’m a chicken.”
    He threw her his boyish grin and the tension inside her chest eased.
    “Breakfast in bed?” she asked, eyeing the feast on the tray.
    “Depends. You hanging around?”
    Now that the morning-after embarrassment was gone, her body was back to reacting the way it always did near him. Her skin flushed and the throbbing place between her thighs burned with want. There was no way she’d slept with him because of the alcohol. She wanted him. Had since the first day she’d met him. This was about lust, not lowered inhibitions.
    Caitlyn dropped her clothes at her feet and crawled back into bed. “I’m ready to be served, kind sir.”
    Jake chuckled, but played along. “As you wish, my lady.” He brought the tray over, pulled out the stands, and then positioned it over her lap. After a small bow, he climbed in beside her.
    “Oh my God! You made omelets?” she asked while she scooped up a fork.
    “It’s my specialty.” Jake lifted the other and dug in.
    It was a shame to destroy the perfectly rounded creation, but the smell of eggs and cheese was the worst kind of temptation. She broke off a chunk, skewered it, and then popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.”
    She noticed Jake was looking at her funny and she cocked a brow. “Don’t do that again or you won’t get the chance to finish your breakfast, my lady.” He grinned and Caitlyn’s blood sizzled. His golden brown eyes had darkened to a tempting shade of dark chocolate.
    She shifted on the bed and an uncomfortable sensation throbbed between her thighs. “Ow.”
    “Caitlyn?” Jake dropped his fork, and one of his hands cupped her cheek.
    She pulled