As we continue making our way back to our hotel, we're quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. Every time my foot sinks into the cool sand beside his, I feel a pull, like there’s a magnetic field around Penn tugging at something deep inside me.
The spacious hotel room feels smaller as we step inside. Something has shifted between us, and I don’t know how to get back to where we were. I don’t even know if I want to. I know I need to turn away, to go into my room, but the pull toward Penn is impossible to resist, and I get stuck in place, unable to move in either direction.
“So, um, good night,” he whispers as we stand in the entryway, staring at each other. Neither of us moves toward our separate bedrooms.
“Night,” I echo, but I’m stepping closer instead of away.
And then we’re inches apart, the heat from his body mixing with mine. My heart hammers against my rib cage, demanding I close the gap between us. So I do.
Our lips crash together. He tastes like the salt air and wine and the faint tang of ginger from the sushi. My hand finds his hip, gripping him and pulling him flush against my body. He matches my urgency, his fingers threading through my hair.
His breath catches, and he gasps against my mouth.
“Been wanting to do this,” I admit between heated kisses, surprised at how easily I confess that to him.
“Fuck, me too,” he whispers, and it’s all the encouragement I need.
The world seems to shrink down to just us, to just this one hotel room on this one beach. The rest of the world falls away.
Penn’s hands slide over my back, pulling me closer, his touch sparking a fire inside me. We stumble toward the couch without breaking contact, like we’re afraid the magic will disappear if our lips part for even a second.
My knees hit the cushion first, and I pull him down with me, rolling so I’m half on top of him. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss until it’s all teeth and tongue and raw need. He tastes intoxicating, like something I’ve craved without knowing it existed.
“Jesus,” he gasps when we finally come up for air, his voice husky and thick with desire. His legs wrap around my waist, the heat of his cock pressing against mine through the thin fabric of our shorts. There’s an urgency in the way he moves, telling me he’s just as lost in this as I am.
But slowly, reality intrudes. I don’t want it. I fight against it because the taste of his lips, the feel of his body against mine is just…oh god. But we have to face each other tomorrow. And I don’t know… what this is.
I force myself to pull back, breathing heavily.
“Shit” is all I can say, resting my forehead against his.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
Our heavy breathing is the only sound in the room.
I sit up slightly, enough to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret or doubt. The confusion there matches the turmoil churning in my own gut.
“We probably shouldn—” I say, and it’s one of the hardest things I've ever had to say, because every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do the exact opposite.
“Yeah,” Penn agrees, but he bites his lip, a clear sign he’s just as unsure as me.
“Okay, well, good night,” I manage, voice barely above a whisper.
“Night,” Penn echoes.
We head to our separate bedrooms, the distance between us stretching wider with each step until the doors close with soft clicks, sealing us off from each other.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan under my breath, running my hands down my face. I flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. My heart’s still racing as my mind replays it over and over. Touching Penn was like touching a live wire—electrifying, dangerous, addictive.
I rush through my bedtime preparations, and when I climb between the soft, cool sheets, I touch my fingertips to my lips. I can still taste him, can still feel the softness of his lips. I can still hear the soft little sighing noises he made when I touched his warm skin.Damn.
“Idiot,” I mutter, rolling onto my side and punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape. I’m not someone who gets tied into knots over a relationship—er, hookup… or whatever the fuck this is.
Sleep doesn’t come easy. Every time I close my eyes, I see Penn’s face, feel his breath mingling with mine. And I wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him, to not have to say good night at all.
Chapter nine
Hunter
