“Do you always make everything this dramatic?” I tease lightly, glancing at him. “Every day is an adventure, every moment is suspenseful?”
He laughs softly, that low, sexy rumble I’ve come to love.
“Only when it’s worth it,” he murmurs. “And this, well, this is absolutely worth it.”
I put my bag down on the dry sand and we walk toward the edge of the water, the surf lapping at our feet, sending cool shivers up my legs. The contrast between the warm sun and the refreshing ocean is electrifying, heightening the tension between us.
I glance at him, trying to read the expression on his face, that mixture of anticipation, mischief, and something deeper, more intimate. My stomach twists in that delicious, dizzying way, and I know, without a doubt, that whatever comes next is going to be unforgettable.
He steps closer to me, closing the distance between us, and I feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze lingers on me, and it builds into a tension that’s palpable, magnetic.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl.
My pulse spikes. I shake my head, trying to meet his gaze steadily, even though my heart is hammering. “I’m just soaking it all in,” I whisper. “The sun, the water, you, everything.”
He chuckles, leaning closer, and I feel his hand brush against mine again.
“Good,” he says.
We stand there for a long moment, just looking at each other, the waves rolling in, the sun dipping lower, and the world narrowing to just us. My pulse races, every nerve alight with anticipation, and I feel the delicious electricity of possibility crackling in the air.
I think Rhett is going to kiss me when he leans in slightly, but instead, he bends down and the next thing I know, cold sea water is splashing all over me. I shriek and freeze in shock as it hits me, and then I laugh and splash him right back. Far more than he did to me. It soon turns into an all-out splash war. We are both soaking wet by the time we stop. I am laughing and out of breath.
Rhett takes my hand, and we run out of the water onto the dry sand. We quickly strip out of our clinging wet clothes, leaving me in my bikini and Rhett in his swim shorts. The laughter fades away.
“Shall we make the most of our privacy in public?” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, a promise lingering in the words.
I nod, my heart hammering, a flush creeping up my chest as my body responds to the thrill of the moment. “I think we should.”
Suddenly, the sand shifts beneath us, and I’m on my back on the towel, and Rhett is on top of me, kissing me, my arms around his shoulders. I can feel his already hard cock pressing against me, and I want him inside of me now. I am dripping wet, more than ready for him and I reach down and tug his shorts off. He kicks them aside, then he lifts himself off me long enough to peel off the bottom half of my bikini. He lies back down on his side beside me, and I roll to face him.
He hooks my leg over his hips, then runs his fingers through my slit as we kiss. When he starts playing with my clit. Once again, I feel the tension mounting inside my body, but this time, Rhett stops before I can get my release. I open my mouth to protest, but he doesn’t wait around to listen as he pushes me onto my back, gets between my legs, and thrusts into me.
We move together to the sound of the ocean, and that feeling keeps building up inside of me until finally, it’s like a dam bursting and I climax, hard. I cling to Rhett as my mouth opens and I scream. I actually scream! He pumps faster, harder, and then he comes with me, and we cling together, each of us lost in our own pleasure.
Rhett slips out of me as our orgasms begin to fade.
“Do you think my neighbors heard you?” he teases with a mischievous grin.
“Hey, you’re the one who made me feel so good that I couldn’t hold it in,” I fire back.
“Pippa, you scream all you want. I’ll buy my neighbors some headphones,” he says with a laugh.
“Does this mean we get to do that again?”
“I think you already know the answer to that one,” Rhett replies, his eyes already darkening with desire and the promise of more pleasure.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Pippa
“You didn’t?” Sandra squeals from the other side of the Atlantic.
“I did. I couldn’t help it. It was the only thing I could think of to wipe that smug look off her face,” I mutter.
“And did it?”
“You bet. She became quite pale, poor thing.”
