But I couldn’t help myself. Being around Jaxson is doing strange things to my equilibrium, and his questions were becoming increasingly personal. The more time we spend together, the more I find myself caught up in unwelcome memories. Memories that have left me more than a little hot and bothered, not to mention incredibly horny.
Intimacy.Hell yes, I miss it.But it comes with a price.
Three years with only battery-operated toys to sustain me. I was tempted to track Zach down after Caleb and April’s wedding. Thank goodness I refrained.
I close my eyes for a second and inhale. Yes, I miss coming home to someone, the warmth of a hard body pressing me into the bed.
I sigh.
If only I had one.
My nicknameThe Ice Queen,is not for nothing.
Being strong-willed, persistent and extremely industrious in business, has gained me the title of queen of the hotel industry. In my private life, however, I’ve been deemed asdistant, with an icy exterior.
It’s amazing how the expectation after a single expensive meal and a semi-expensive bottle of wine is full access to my body. It’s called stress relief, apparently.
I may be thirty-five, but I still want to feel something for the man I let between my thighs. There’s no shame in having one-night stands, they just aren’t my thing.
I push off the doorframe and head towards the wardrobe, grabbing my bikini as I go. Jax comes out, his swim shorts in place, his smooth chest is bare. I swallow hard, darting in behind him.
“Won’t be a moment,” I say.
“No rush. This is a semi-holiday after all, and we’ve worked hard all morning.”
I close my eyes for a second, inhaling deeply.
What the hell is going on?
Forty-eight hours ago, I could quite easily have murdered the man. Now… now I don’t know what I want. All I know is I’ve seen far too much of Jax’s naked body recently, and it’s playing havoc with my emotional and mental state.
I pull on my bikini and tie a sarong around my waist.
I step out onto the terrace and watch as Jax twists and turns, trying to apply sunscreen to his back and shoulders.
“Here,” I say, before I can stop myself.
Old habits die hard, and it’s something we all did for one another during those summers. Mum was a stickler. She wanted no burnt teenagers.
I pick up the bottle and add a generous blob to my hand. I pause, suddenly realising what I’m about to do.
I suck in a silent breath and place my hands on his back. Electricity shoots south, almost knocking me backwards. I stifle a groan as my core contracts violently.
Jax has frozen under my hands.
I rub in the cream carefully, enjoying the feel of his taut skin under my hands. My eyes trace the intricate design of the tattoo that covers his left shoulder and bicep, while my hands enjoy their journey over his broad, smooth shoulders down to his tight, ripped waist.
“All done,” I say, rubbing what’s left on my hands into my skin.
“Turn around,” Jax orders, his voice a little deeper than usual. I can’t meet his gaze, instead, I do as I’m told, for once.
When his hands touch my skin, I jump.
“That’s cold,” I squeak, although it’s not the cold and definitely the man who’s got my bikini bottoms in a twist.
I bite the inside of my lip as he takes hissweettime, applying sun lotion to my skin.
By the time he’s finished, I’m nothing more than a soaking wet mess.
