He rolls his eyes playfully and sets his napkin on the table. His hands move to his knees before he stands. “Come on, then.”
My eyes widen intosaucers. “Now?” I squeak.
He smirks, his hand held out in invitation. “Now. If you’re still happy to, of course.”
My head is spinning. I’m conflicted about this situation with Anthony Voss. On the one hand, my mind is screaming that it’s a horrible idea; something I cannot come back from. On the other hand, I find delight in knowing I will no longer need tofantasizeabout him, but insteadremember.
The breeze blows my hair around, and the surf becomes the only sound between us. It’s steady and rising, mirroring my heartbeat as it climbs. He waits patiently, staring down at me with that stupid grin that makes my thoughts turn to static.
The money, the obligation, my job status; all the details of our arrangement falls away at once. I want this so I slip my hand into his.
He gently pulls me up, steadying me as I sway. Maybe it’s from the wine. Maybe it’s my nerves. “Need me to carry you again?” he teases, that smirk coming back out to play.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking,” I grumble. My hand wraps around his bicep out of instinct. If it wasn’t obvious that I’m absolutely losing my mind before, then it is now. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. You’re insane.I’minsane?—”
“Stop,” he laughs, his hand coming up to my cheek, his thumb resting against my lips. “You’re getting nervous again.”
“Yeah, of course I’m getting nervous, you ass.” The words come out muffled, the playful annoyance not fully comingthrough. “My boss is about to fuck me. That’s nerve-wracking. All the pressure of a normal performance review times ten.”
His head leans a little closer, his other hand coming up to cage in my face, forcing me to look up at him. “April.” His gaze meets mine. “You are good at your job. And you will not be rated on your ability toprocreate.”
“Yeah, but what if this bleeds into everything else?—”
His mouth crashes into mine abruptly, cutting me off, and… Holyshit, Anthony is kissing me, he’s kissing me,he’s kissing me.
“Stop,” he rasps against my lips, pulling back just enough to speak. “Stop fucking talking, princess.”
“Okay.”
His lips meet mine again, more urgent this time. He walks me back, and I gasp as I nearly trip over my feet. He uses it to his advantage though, and deepens the kiss. His tongue twisting with mine, tasting of red wine and sin. Utter sin.
I can’t stop the weak little noise that pulls from my throat. I can’t seem to control my hands, either. They move up his chest until they sink into his hair like they were meant to be there. He’s real. He’s against me. He’s kissing me, and I’m not in some wild fantasy while I work on a press release. I’m not touching myself on my shower floor, I’m not lost in my own head?—
“Off,” he says against my lips, tugging at the back of the dress. There is a soft, small tearing sound as one of the straps slips off my shoulder. “God,off.”
“There’s a zipper, you maniac,” I say. He laughs, his breath puffing against my mouth. “But that’s so much less fun.” He grabs a fistful of the fabric, walking us back further until my feet hit soft blankets. I’m gasping between assaults of his tongue and lips, and then he tugs hard. The cool air meets the mesh of my corset as the dress opens entirely in the back. I stumblein surprise, but this time he doesn’t steady me. He guides medown.
His knee hits the blanket, cushioned by the sand beneath, at the same time as my rear. I stare up at him as he places his hand just below my collarbone and pushes gently until I’m lying on the pillows. He pulls at the loose fabric covering my body, and the dress easily slips down. The straps gliding over my arms, black pooling around my hips. The breeze picks up, cooling the blazing skin of my upper chest and cheeks, shifting his hair, but he doesn’t care.
He’s staring at the corset like he’s seconds from devouring me.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says in a breathy whisper. That’s when I see it. Even in the low light, the faintest hint of a creeping blush blooms across his cheekbones.He likes it.He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing before his hands move again. “Lift your hips, princess.”
It takes half a second for my brain to catch up. He wants my ruined dress all the way off. “But you’re enjoying looking,” I counter. A little bit of fire coming back from the heat in his gaze. I grin, just a little, as I rest my head back on the cushions. “Think I’ll keep the dress on?—”
He blinks in surprise. I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he realizes that I’m playing with him, and he gives a surprised huff of amusement. His hand moves down to my waist and hooks behind it. “Brat,” he says, yanking my hips up off the blanket before tugging the fabric down over my ass. He lets me fall, just an inch back down, and chuckles when I shoot him a glare. “Don’t start with me.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely going to,” I grin.
His free hand comes up, grabbing my jaw and cheek in one hand, squeezing just hard enough to make me gasp. His other hand drags the rest of my dress down and off my legs beforetossing it into the sand.Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think it gets a rise out of you,” I say, my tone is full of sass and the words come out breathy. “And I think you like it.”
The corner of his mouth twitches again before his lips meet mine, the hand holding my jaw slipping around the back of my neck, squeezing gently to tilt my head. He kisses me like he’s trying to teach me a lesson, but it’s a lesson I want to ignore if it makes him react likethis. “You might be at least a little right,” he whispers in the split-second he gives me to catch a breath.
He pushes a knee against where mine are joined, forcefully separating them before planting his on the blanket, removing the option of keeping my thighs together. His free hand trails down the front of my body over the corset. His touch is so light it makes me shiver as he ghosts over my stomach. The tips of his fingers graze over my mons, and I draw in a shaky breath, preparing, bracing. But just before he reaches the spot where I’m already aching, alreadywet, he pulls away like he was never there to begin with. His hand closing over the flesh of my inner thigh instead. He squeezes, just once, before his thumb brushes my skin just an inch away from where I want it.
