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Her cheeks turn pink, and she bites down on her bottom lip, shaking her head. She has no fucking clue how crazy she makes me, and that only makes me burn hotter for her.
"Let me show you," I growl before pulling her into my arms, crashing my lips against hers in a searing kiss.
She moans against my mouth as I deepen the kiss, our tongues tangling together in a desperate dance. One hand grips onto her ass while the other threads through her hair, holding her firmly against me. She melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I devour her mouth.
When we finally pull back for air, she's flushed and panting against me. I take the opportunity to lower my head and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, kissing the soft skin there before trailing open-mouthed kisses down to the valley between her breasts.
"Roman," she gasps as I flick my tongue over one hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her bikini top. "Send the thank you note."
My body shakes with laughter against hers as I curl one hand around her hip to swat her on the ass. Her grumble of protest bleeds to a moan when I crash my mouth onto hers again, kissing the complaint from her lips.
By the time I let her up, she's got her tits pressed against my chest, and she's mewling like a greedy little kitten. Fuck, she's sweet when she's horny.
I reluctantly pull back, putting a little space between us before I forget that I can't fuck her again now. "What are your plans for the day?"
"I'm finishing what I started the day before yesterday."
I arch a brow, amused. "Pretty sure you did that when you rode me on the couch yesterday, baby."
She rolls her eyes. "That's not what I meant. I have a date with my Kindle, the sea, and the sun."
I narrow my eyes, considering. I don't have many neighbors out here. When I'm here, I mostly have this stretch of beach to myself. But every once in a while, one of the neighbors shows up. It's those motherfuckers who run through my mind now.
"Maybe I will burn that factory down instead," I mutter.
Mila throws her head back, laughing loudly. "Don't be ridiculous, Roman. If you burn down the factory, you won't get to see me wearing any of these in the future." She pats me on the chest as she spins on her heel, sashaying back to the island to scoop up her Kindle, cookie, and water bottle. "Besides, two-week stands don't get conjugals in jail," she calls over her shoulder.
Two-week stand?
Oh, fuck that.
In a split second, fury and desire blend into a potent cocktail that has me closing the gap between us. A primal urge kicks in as I grab her around the waist, yanking her back against my hard body. Her gasp is cut short as I spin her around to face me.
"You're not a fucking two-week stand," I growl, my voice rumbling deep in my chest. Her lips part, shock widening her green eyes. God, those eyes… They're so fucking far under my skin it's unreal.
"Say it," I demand, my hands tightening on her hips. "Tell me you know you're more than that."
"We only have two weeks, Roman," she murmurs, staring up at me with those mesmerizing eyes. There's fear and a touch of sadness in them, but there's something else, too. A spark of challenge.
I shake my head, my grip on her firm and steady. "You aren't," I insist with a gritted jaw, "a two-week stand."
Before she can respond, before she can protest or agree or tell me to fuck off, I kiss her. Our lips crash together with an intensity that threatens to consume us both. It's all teeth and tongue and pure fucking need. Her taste is intoxicating, stealing the breath from my lungs and leaving me wanting more.
The world falls away as we surrender to the passion swirling between us. All thoughts of boundaries and time limits evaporate. What does it matter if time is against us? Why does anyone else get a say in what's happening between us? Right now, in this moment with Mila gasping against my lips and clawing at the fabric of my shirt… This is all that matters.
Because she isn't a two-week stand.
She never was.
And I'll be damned if I let her forget it.
I lift her up suddenly and wrap her legs around my waist. Her gasp turns into a moan as I carry her inside, pushing the door shut behind us. My heartbeat is wild in my chest; our pulses throb in sync.
The kindle? Forgotten. The sun? A distant memory.
All that matters is the woman in my arms and the fiery connection between us.
"Bedroom?" I ask hoarsely.
