I arched a little, pushing more of me into his hand. “It might even be medically necessary.”
The breath of his half-laugh vibrated through me.
“In that case...” He tugged my top up, over my head. And normally, I might have been a little embarrassed, but when those stormy eyes darkened, I didn’t want to hide.
He was looking at me like I was some decadent dessert, or something forbidden. Like he wanted to do wicked, wicked things to me.
With me.
His eyes flashed up again, and as he swirled one of my curls around his finger, his throat moved. “I’ve wanted to do this…”
Keeping his eyes pinned on me, he stepped back just enough so that he could cross his hands and sweep his shirt over his head.
Now, it was my turn to stare. At the elegant lines of his hard body, at the smattering of hair on his chest, funneled into a perfect little happy trail. I moved into his arms so I could feel it against my skin.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said.
“And my ghosts?”
“And your ghosts.”
His mouth nipped along my jaw and then slanted against mine again.
I had all of this man’s focus. Something I wasn’t used to. And I should have…but…I wasn’t.
I inhaled his taste—minty, rough, and warm.
He inhaled mine.
When the edge of the bed bumped the backs of my knees, I didn’t fall. Not yet. I just held onto Noah.
His skin felt like satin beneath my fingertips, and I kept searching.
The little indent at the base of his spine. His back. His neck. His hair was soft, silky.
“Just once,” I said.
“A fling?”
“Yeah.”
Hasty promises between us.
And it was okay. We were two adults. He was free. I was free. And we were on vacation.
His mouth was on my shoulder now. “You taste like birthday cake.”
He playfully snapped the elastic on my shorts before his fingertips dipped inside, teasing the skin just below my belly.
I was so, sooo glad I’d taken the time to put lotion on. I was smooth all over.
Had I secretly been hoping for this?
Maybe.
Was I totally okay with this?
Definitely.
