I push to my feet abruptly, but that’s worse. Now I’m towering over her.
She tilts her head back to maintain eye contact. Doesn’t step away. Just stands there, windblown and trembling.
This is the kind of beauty that ambushes you. The kind that hides behind cardigans and nervous laughter, behind annotated guidebooks and a desperate need to blend into walls during meetings. That you don’t see coming until you can’t see anything else.
The leash I’ve kept on myself all afternoon breaks.
My hand moves without permission, palm cupping her jaw. Her eyes go wide but she doesn’t pull back.
My mouth crashes into hers.
I’m a selfish bastard. Always have been. When I want something, I take it.
And right now, consequences be damned, I want her.
SEVENTEEN
Biology makes idiots of men
Patrick
My fingers tangle inher wet hair, grip tightening until she gasps. My other hand finds her waist, slides across slick skin, pulls until there’s no space left between us. She fits against me perfectly, soft curves pressed to hard muscle, saltwater making everything slippery and urgent.
My cock is already straining against wet swim shorts, embarrassingly eager, heat roaring through me like I’ve lost every ounce of control.
Jake would kill me for this. Put me in the ground without hesitation. But I can’t stop.
Because the noises she makes—small, breathy moans, little gasps like she’s startled by her own pleasure—rip straight through me. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. That’s the worst part. That’s the best part. That’s what’s going to fucking undo me completely.
Her lips move against mine, hesitant at first. Testing. Then her tongue touches mine and she makes this noise, surprised and hungry, and suddenly she’s kissing me back properly. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, sliding up into my hair, nails dragging across my scalp.
I groan into her mouth because it feels too damn good.
I know I’m being rough. My stubble scrapes her jaw. Her hair twists in my fist like I’ve forgotten what restraint even means. But she arches into me instead of pulling away.
She shifts against me, and my cock presses harder against her stomach, nothing between us but wet fabric that makes every inch of it worse. I’m one breath away from bending her over the nearest surface, tearing that soaked bikini off, and pounding into her.
I can’t. I fuckingcan’t.
I wrench myself away, stumbling back a step. “Sorry. That was completely out of line.”
She stares up at me, lips swollen and red, chest rising and falling rapidly. Water drips from her hair onto her shoulders. Her hands hover in the space where I was, like she doesn’t know what to do with them now.
And I have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to look at her and not finish what I started.
I drag a shaking hand across my mouth, like I can scrub her off my lips. Try to remember what restraint feels like. Try to slow my heart down before it tears out of my chest.
“That was inappropriate of me,” I say, but my voice betrays me, raw with everything I’m trying to swallow down.
Her palms press flat against my chest, and I realize I didn’t step back far enough. She looks up at me, beautiful green eyes blown wide.
There’s nothing coy in it. No game. Just raw want.
Like she’d give me anything I asked for right now.
“Patrick,” she breathes, my name shaking out of her like she’s not sure she’s allowed to say it.
She looks like she’s never been kissed properly in her life. Like I’ve just introduced her to something earth-shattering.
