Here in Ireland, it’s just Lexi and Connor, living our best lives on this beautiful beach. No billion-dollar empire between us, no power imbalance . . . Except for the fact that he literally owns this entire stretch of sand.
“Don’t worry.” His hot gaze trails down my fully covered body. “I’ll warm you up real quick afterward.”
Oh damn. He’s using his horny voice. Now I’m imagining all the deliciously naughty ways he can “warm me up.”
He arches an eyebrow, taunting me. “So, what’s it gonna be, Sullivan? You gonna dive in and have the time of your life, or are you gonna be a bore?”
His playful challenge gets me. I don’t want to look like a bore. Who knew getting hypothermia could be so enticing? “All right, you win. But if I freeze to death, I’m haunting your fancy plunge pool for eternity. Wait there.”
I turn to go in and grab a swimsuit, hoping Grace has packed me a thick wetsuit, when he grabs my hand.
“Uh-uh,” he drawls, grinning. “No need to get a swimsuit. It’s a private beach, Lexi. Just us.”
“Wait, the beach comes with the cottage?” I blink in disbelief.
“Yeah, I own it. Well, Killian and I do.” Connor says this casually, because of course he does. “We snagged it last year for the family to use as a holiday spot. But this is my first time checking it out.”
He pauses, his forehead creasing in thought, and I have the sudden urge to smooth out those worry lines with my lips. “Come to think of it, this is my first real vacation in ages. Usually, it’s just quick Vegas trips or work jaunts to check on our hotels.”
I look at him incredulously. “You bought a beach house in Ireland without even seeing it first?”
He just shrugs. “Made sense for us. Killian, Clodagh, Tegan, and even Mom have all been here. I knew I’d make it out eventually.”
I shake my head, marveling at the absurdity of it all. Then, before I can chicken out, I whip off his coat, the cold air hitting my skin like a thousand tiny needles. I kick off my flip-flops and shimmy out of my jeans and tee, standing there in nothing but my bra and panties.
Connor laughs, and that’s not the reaction you want when you strip down to your underwear on a beach. “She really got behind the Irish theme, huh?”
“I’m having words with her when I get home,” I mutter.
Grace has only packed underwear sets with strings and zero ass coverage. And to top it off—there are bedazzled leprechauns plastered on each tiny triangle of my bra. Jesus, it’s like I’m auditioning for a bad St Patrick’s Day porn flick.
Where the hell did she find this? I can’t tell if she’s trying to make me look hot or stupid.
To my shock, Connor drops his running shorts followed by his boxers. “Lose the underwear.” Even playful it still seems like an order. Very bossy.
“Naked?” I can’t help but burst into laughter, even though the wind steals the sound away. “You’re joking, right?”
“Come on.” He grins. “This is my private beach. No one’s going to see us.”
I try to laugh it off, but he’s standing there with that look, like he’s issued a challenge I’m too prudish to accept. God, I’m not exactly the naked-in-public type. I didn’t grow up in a household where we pranced around in the buff.
However, I don’t want to seem like a total nun either.
Connor strides back toward the water, bare ass on full display. The sun glistens off his muscular glutes.
As he reaches the shoreline, he turns and crooks his finger at me, arrogantly beckoning. “I’m waiting, Lexi.”
Okay, what the hell, right? It’s not as if we have an audience, unless the seagulls are feeling particularly pervy today. Plus, I could use some vitamin D on these pasty ass cheeks.
I whip off my bra and shimmy out of my leprechaun-adorned underwear. I take off running toward Connor, attempting my best sexy beach sprint even though everything starts violently jiggling. Even though he’s already seen me in various states of undress, this feels different, more exposed in the broad daylight. I suck in my stomach along with anything else suckable, and try to channel my inner Pamela Anderson as I reach him.
“Good girl.” He winks, already knees deep in the water. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”
I cautiously dip my toes into the water, letting out a high-pitched squeal as I quickly retract my foot. “It’s freezing, you psychopath!”
Is he trying to kill me?
But before I can stage a retreat, Connor lifts me up, bridal style, and I’m half laughing, half screaming, “What the—”
