“Pink-flamingo swim trunks,” he heard in Willow’s familiar teasing lilt.
“Are you surprised at my need for atten—” Ash teased back as he opened his eyes. But then his mouth went dry, and he couldn’t even finish his last syllable. Hell, he’d lost all ability to form words, let alone string them together into coherent sentences because Willow wasn’t simply standing there, teasing him about his pink flamingos. She was standing there in an emerald-green bikini top that covered her breasts with nothing more than two well-placed triangles of fabric. And the bottoms were more of a tiny pair of shorts that he knew—once she turned around—he’d see hugging her ass in the best possible way.
“What’s the matter, cowboy?” she asked, striding closer so she could toss her clothes on the pile with his. Then she tugged on the tied drawstring ofthe aforementioned pink-flamingo trunks. “Cat got your tongue?”
Ash nodded because…words. What were words again?
“You’re probably wondering why I even had a suit with me if I was going to be holed up at a horse ranch writing a song.”
He cleared his throat. “No,” he managed, but the word sounded more like a growl. “Not wondering. Just. Enjoying.”
Willow laughed, then ran her index finger along the waistband of his swimsuit, and Ash sucked in a breath. “The songwriter at a loss for words,” she mused. “This is fun. And because I want you to know how wowed I am by this place, the reason I brought a suit was because Colt told me about a swimming hole a short ride from his guest ranch that they take guests to for a day trip. But I’ve seen photos on the ranch’s website. The place is cute, but…”
“Mine is better?” he asked, his voice low and rough as his ability to speak finally returned.
She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded.
“Just so you know,” Ash added. “We’re never leaving this place. We live here now. And I’m burning the rest of your clothes so that all you have left is that green work of art.” And because two could play her daring little game, he took it one step further and dipped his finger just beneath the hip-hugging band of her tiny green shorts, gliding it across hersoft, pale flesh. Her breath hitched, and Ash gave himself a mental pat on the back. He leaned in, his lips and stubble trailing across her cheek until his mouth reached her ear. “I’m not sure why this place isn’t overrun with tourists yet, but I’m going to take our lack of audience as a sign that I should probably kiss you senseless right here on this beach before our little bubble of privacy is broken.” Her whole body shivered, but just to double-check, he asked, “Is that your way of giving me permission?”
“Yes,” Willow whispered.
So he snaked his fingers into her hair, cradling her head in his palm as he dragged his lips back across her jaw until they found her mouth.
She parted her lips and moaned as his other hand reached around her backside to see—or at least feel—just how good those tiny emerald shorts hugged her soft yet toned behind. In the distance he heard what sounded like children shouting, and he knew their bubble was about to burst.
“Grab on,” Ash told her, and as if she knew exactly what he intended, Willow hooked her arms round his neck, and he grabbed her by the thighs, lifting her onto his hips, her pelvis gliding over his erection. He swore, knowing that there would be no satisfaction as far as the things Willow Morgan did to him. At least not here. So he kissed her hard and deep, their lips making a promise to finish what they started when they got back to the campsite.For now, a plunge into a cold swimming hole should do the trick.
Willow yelped, and Ash swore as the water hit their skin. Soon they were soaked and laughing, the kiss and their arousal giving way to something more playful and definitely more G-rated as the first of what would be many tourists emerged onto the sand where they’d just stood.
Chapter 16
Willow covered her eyes as Ash neared the edge of the cliff over the falls. They’d already watched several others—mostly teens—jump from the same spot and land safely in the water below, but something about seeing Ash up there made Willow feel like she was nearing the edge of the cliff herself rather than wading in the water below.
She held her breath as he took a couple of deliberate steps back, enough to give him a running start. And just like that, after a short sprint, his feet left the ground, and Ash Murphy was airborne. He whooped and hollered with unbridled joy as he soared out and then down toward the water, finally landing with a thunderous splash.
When he popped back up through the surface wearing an exuberant, boyish grin, Willow finally exhaled. Ash swam toward her as she waded in his direction until they finally met where the water was up to her shoulders and just below his chest.
“That was—” he started, but Willow cut him off.
“Terrifying!” She pressed her palms against his chest and gave him a gentle yet, she hoped, meaningful shove.
Ash laughed. “I was going to sayunbelievable, but do we need to unpack your reaction first?”
Willow splashed him this time. “No,” she replied petulantly.
He had the audacity to wrap his arms around her and pick her up, and only because she didn’t want to be rude did she drape her arms over his shoulders and hook her legs over his hips.
“Wills…?”
“What?” she replied with a sigh.
“Were you worried about me?”
“No,” she insisted again, but the response sounded even less convincing than the first time.
Ash laughed as they slowly bobbed up and down in the water surrounded by other campers and tourists who hadn’t noticed that country’s biggest bad boy had just cannonballed off the cliff. Willow’s star might have been on the rise, but she’d learned how to move about in public places and stay under the radar.
“Wills…” he said again, but this time her name was a declaration. “If you didn’t want me to do it, you could have said something.”
