I rushed to meet him, this tide of passion. Our lips met in sudden relief.
He was solid but sensual, thorough and hot.
As he plied my lips with affection, any sense of self-preservation fluttered into the wind.
I could fall in love with him, if I hadn’t already. I could go home with him. I could lay with him amid the waves, crashing into each other until dawn cracked over a new day.
He pulled back for a moment, pressing his forehead to mine so we’d stay connected. But I needed more of him: his warmth, his passion. I kissed him again.
I wanted to take, for once. And Angel…well, he gave.
We embraced on the beach, and for a few, wonderful minutes, I wasn’t a med-school dropout or a sheltered little sister. With him, I was free. I might even be sexy.
Exploring that sentiment, I deepened the kiss, my tongue slipping past his lips. Sweet citrus and bitter heaven.
“Tori,” he whispered, gripping me tighter. My bra chafed our chests with a delicious pull, teasing our slick bodies with magnetic tension.
His hands were all over me. I was too hot, too focused on claiming his mouth again to register much beyond my bra straps falling down my shoulders, the pin-prick of his arrow piercing when I mussed his hair, and beams of light swerving over us from the heavens.
Wait—those were car headlights in the distance.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered, surveying the approaching vehicles and the strange rectangles atop their roofs. “We’ve got company.”
Oh no. It was one thing forhimto see me in my underwear. But strangers?Police?
I gaped as the cop cars crept under streetlights. Why were they patrolling the beach?
“Come on,” Angel said, grabbing my hand and dashing farther down the beach. “The last thing we need is a citation for trespassing.”
“Trespassing?” I squeaked.
I couldn’t get arrested the first time I got frisky.
We snatched our stuff and scrambled to his car, stifling giggles the whole way. It wasn’t funny. But the adrenaline just made everything silly. The sand tripped us up any time we tried to sprint. We’d grasp one another for balance only to drop an article of clothing and need to grab it again, sharing exasperated smiles and sputtering laughs until we finally tossed ourselves into our respective seats.
“Got everything?” Angel asked, panting and beautiful.
“I think so,” I said, my heart racing.
Water droplets snaked down his chest and slipped under his waistband, caressing the skin I hadn’t dared touch yet.
I bit my lip, squirming with the need to run or jump or scream. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, exactly. Everything was alive. Flowing.
Maybethatwas why people loved kissing. I could see the appeal with the right somebody.
“Sorry if I’m getting your seat wet,” I said, trying to limit skin-to-leather contact.
Angel swiped his messy hair back. “I don’t mind, pidge. Hell, you could sit anywhere on me and I’d be thankful for it.”
Anywhere, like his face?
I giggled and eyed his tented lap, my body radiating with curiosity. What would it be like to have him that way?
He licked his lips and twisted the heated air higher. “I like what you’re thinking—but the cops are coming.”
Which meant we couldn’t. At least not immediately.
I rubbed my thighs together to relieve the growing ache. “Right. Let’s…make our getaway.”
