‘This isbeautiful,’ she breathed, delighted. It was shaded and quiet and she was so hot, she would happily lie with him here in the long grass.
‘Uh-huh.’ He inhaled deeply before setting her down and stepping back to pull his shirt off.
But then he took another step back.
‘Where are you going?’ She couldn’t stop herself following after him, stunned to see his magnificent chest again—all that tanned, muscular perfection. But why was he literally distancing himself from her when she knew exactly how ready he was—extremely hot. Extremely hard.
‘I have to cool off,’ he muttered.
She slipped her hands back around his waist.
‘No.’
He grabbed her arms, looking both pained and fierce. ‘Phoebe, we can’t, I don’t have anything with me.’
She frowned, confused.
He grimaced. ‘I mean protection.’
‘Oh.’She’d not even thought about that. She’d just been driven to experience everything with him, but she wasn’t on birth control and didn’t have any condoms. Hell, she’d never actuallyboughtany of those…
‘What?’ His gaze narrowed as she went completely still.
‘Elodie and Bethan,’ she muttered.
‘Who?’
‘They threw it at me before I went through the departure gate.’
‘Threw what?’
She’d shoved it into her bag because she’d not wanted to hold it through the security check and had forgotten about it. Was it still there? ‘A present.’
Her cross-body bag still rested on her lower back. She pulled it round and rummaged deep, smothering her reckless giggle. Bethan had told her to have a holiday fling, but notmarryhim on a whim, like she had. But there was no danger of that here. Phoebe would never marry again and Edo definitely had a ‘no commitment’ vibe. She finally got hold of their gift, and never had she loved her friends more. She glanced up, checking for his reaction.
He’d frozen, staring slack-jawed at the box of condoms she now held in her hand. ‘You’ve not opened it?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘That’s a real shame.’
‘Right?’ She bit her lip. ‘Especially because I go home tomorrow.’
‘Are you sure?’ he muttered huskily. ‘You really did have a knock—’
‘It really wasn’t that bad.’ And she’d never been as sure of anything. She wanted this one moment—of togetherness, of nothing but enjoyment with no guilt and no expectation. He’d made her feel indescribably good and she wanted more, wanted him to have it too. And maybe she was just projecting but she sensed he was as lonely as she. Which was madness, because he was stunning and would surely never be short of women wanting his company.
But truly, the onlymistakehere would benotindulging in this with him. Why shouldn’t she pursue this moment of pleasure? Hell, it would probably never happen again because she’d never felt physical desire like this. Not as instantly or as intensely and she honestly didn’t really feel like this was achoiceanyway—this was essential. Feeling anything to such an extreme would ordinarily worry her, but there would be no permanent ramifications from this…and besides, she simply couldn’t resist. ‘Stop assuming you know what’s best for me.’
His dark brown eyes bored into her. There was a moment—who knew how long—where they stayed like statues before with a blink, the spell was broken. He stepped forward the same time as she so they collided again. Hard. It was heaven. Hands grabbed, mouths pressed. They slammed together, broke apart for a breath, only to slam again, grappling to get rid of clothes while retaining as much contact as possible. Impatient. Hungry. Hot.
‘Hurry.’ She stumbled out of her dress with an uncoordinated shimmy while trying to keep running her hands over his chest and discover every one of those beautifully defined muscles.
‘Your ankle—’
‘I don’t give a damn about my ankle.’
He huffed a laugh but lifted her again, only to lower her to the soft grass a second later. She pulled him down with her and caught his mouth with hers. It was everything—having him above her, pressing her into the summer scented dell.
He kissed her everywhere, drowning her in temptation and sensation. She shivered and arched, surrendering completely to the passion he roused in her. His growls emboldened her, lending her strength, speed, confidence—liberty. She drank in his curving long muscles. They bunched. Strained. She ran her tongue along the vein popping from his heated blood and smiled at his groan. She worked the zipper of his jeans and shoved them down, pressing her fingers into his tight buttocks, pushing him closer. He grunted ferally and pulled back with a sharp movement. She watched as he tore the box of condoms with his teeth, watched his hands shake as he rolled one on before dropping back to where she writhed impatiently, hot and so, so ready.
‘Don’t slow down. Definitely don’t stop,’ she muttered.
