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The ocean water did nothing to cool my skin. Now, it's blistering, flaming, sweltering.
And I have no idea how to douse it.
—
Kyle turns on the shower while I fumble with the door lock.
“I don’t think the lock works,” I furrow my brows and try to twist it again.
“No one’s home,” Kyle reminds me. Everyone went to the grocery store to pick up food for dinner while we were walking back from the beach. They left a note and we decided to use the alone time to...reconnect. “We’ll be done by the time they get back.”
I let go of the doorknob and walk over to him. He’s shoving his black swim trunks down his legs and stepping out of them. Then he’s leaning into the shower, checking the temperature of the water. I take a moment to admire his butt, which is several shades lighter than the rest of him, but still toned and muscular.
When he turns to face me, I instantly blush as a crooked smile appears on his lips. “Jenny Kearns, were you just checking out my ass?”
“I was,” I admit. There’s no point in denying it.
He takes a few steps towards me, slides my bikini bottoms down, runs his hands up my thighs, over my backside. He gives it a light squeeze before he presses his lips to mine.
His hands travel up my waist, over my ruffled top, until he twines his fingers in my damp hair. He takes his time, sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and gently bites it. I whimper in his arms, totally weak and lost in his touch, his body heat, his dangerously addictive mouth.
It's just not fair. That I'm putty in his hands and he's...well, he's solid and firm and sturdy. Doesn't even appear weakened by our closeness.
He pulls his mouth away from mine long enough to slide the ruffled bikini top over my head. His mouth is back on mine in seconds, his tongue sliding across my lips.
I need to come up for air, but I like the spasms and twinges in my lungs. The feeling that I might pass out. It's heady and sweltering and intoxicating.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
Kyle pulls me into the shower, shuts the curtain behind us, turns me so my back rubs against his hardness.
The water is warm and soothing as Kyle's hands roam my body, the salty smell of the ocean washing off our bodies. He kisses my neck and shoulders and back. It feels so good, like I'm on a roller coaster. It's up and down, fast then slow, and my stomach feels like it's dropping all the way to my toes when he sucks on that sensitive spot between my neck and collarbone.
I pry his hands off me long enough to flip around and face him.
His eyes are soft as his fingers thoroughly tease my stomach. Then they're sliding lower, lower, lower to the slick folds already wet for him.
"Can we...can you…" I stumble over my words, trying to get out what I want. He chuckles against my skin as he kisses my neck. "Sex. I need it now."
Kyle stills for a moment, lifts his head to look at me. "I don't have a condom. They're in my room."
"Can we…" I feel my heart slam in my chest. I want this. No, I need this. I haven't had him inside of me in almost two-and-a-half weeks and I can't even think straight. "Can we do it without one?"
Kyle's hand cups my cheek. "Baby, I think we should really use one."
I let out a frustrated sigh and take a step back from him. I need to cool off, calm down, chill out.
I need distance.
His face clouds with indecision before he shakes it off, leans back against the turquoise tile.
Neither of us say anything as the water trickles down his body, streams flowing freely over his chest and stomach and thighs.
The air is humid, sticky, stifling. Kyle's steel gaze never leaves my face and shift uncomfortably beneath the dark look in his eyes.
One minute passes, then two.
