Page 145 of My Real Love Affair

His eyes flashed with desire. He stood slowly. I watched as he started unbuttoning his shirt. Each button revealed more tanned skin. I found myself holding my breath.

God, he was beautiful. The shirt came off, and I got to admire his chest, his shoulders, the definition of his abs. He was watching me watch him, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Enjoying the show?”

“If I had a stack of dollars, I would be making it rain right now.”

He chuckled, reaching for his belt. “You’re trouble.”

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

The belt came off. Then his pants. He stood there in just his boxer briefs that highlighted his ample manhood. I couldn’t help the appreciative sound that escaped my throat. To know he’d been inside me. Kissed me. It made me squirm.

“Those too,” I said in a husky voice.

“Demanding.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not even a little bit.”

The boxers joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, and then he was stepping into the tub with me. Water sloshed over the edge, splashing onto the floor, but neither of us cared.

He settled in behind me, pulling me back against his chest. His legs bracketed mine, his arms wrapped around my waist.

“Better?” he murmured against my ear.

“So much better.”

We sat like that for several seconds. He reached for the glass of wine I had put on the edge of the tub. He took a drink. “Wow, that is really good.”

I took it from him and took my own drink. There was something strangely intimate about sharing a glass of wine. We were naked in a tub, and sharing a glass was what made me feel close to him.

“We’re in a tub on the ocean,” I murmured.

He chuckled. “Yes we are.”

“I can’t believe this is my life.”

“It is.”

His lips nipped at my earlobe before sliding lower. I tilted my head to the side to give him plenty of access.

His arms tightened around my waist, hands smoothing up my ribs until his thumbs brushed the swell of my breasts. Everything inside me liquefied. I arched, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. “Austin,” I whispered, surprised at how husky my voice sounded.

He answered by skating his lips along the column of my throat, slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. Each brush of his mouth left sparks zipping across my skin. I reached back, gripping his hip, anchoring myself against the tantalizing sway of the yacht. He hummed against my pulse, making it jump. With one hand, he gathered my hair, moved it aside so he could trace my shoulder with the tip of histongue. With the other, he traced lazy spirals along my waist, then dipped lower, edging under the water but stopping short of anything outright lascivious.

The deliberate restraint made my heartbeat stutter. I scooted back against him. It was accidental, but the friction of him—hot, hard, pressed against the small of my back—had me pressing again on purpose. A low groan rumbled from his chest and across my skin. I felt it everywhere. His palm slid higher, cupping my breast, thumb sweeping over my nipple so gently I nearly stopped breathing. Then again, firmer, a teasing pinch that drew a wanton sound from my throat.

Water lapped over the side. With the candlelight flickering and the soft jazz pumping through hidden speakers, it all blurred into one high hum of anticipation. I twisted, turning to face him, knees straddling his thighs in the oversized tub. Droplets clung to his lashes. Steam curled around us. I tipped my forehead to his, breathing the same warm air.

“Just so you know,” I murmured, tracing the strong line of his jaw, “I plan on killing you slowly.”

Austin’s answering grin was wicked, victorious. His hands settled on my hips, guiding me closer until I could feel the rigid heat of him trapped between us. It was just a little more proof that he was right there with me on the edge. He kissed me slowly, languidly, but with a greedy edge that made my toes curl. When his tongue swept across my lip, I parted under him without hesitation. He deepened the kiss and made me ache. We came up for air and I stole it back again, diving back for more. I combed my fingers through his damp hair, tugging just hard enough to make him growl.

“I can’t decide if you feel better against me or inside me,” I confessed.