She exhaled and kept her gaze on Lucy’s eyes. She didn’t focus on the drops of water sliding down Lucy’s chest. Nor did she let her gaze linger on the soft curve of her hips. And she certainly didn’t pay any attention to that damn smile, the one that said,I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re imagining me completely naked.
And maybe Skye was. Which was exactly why she had to get out of there.
Now.
Skye turned toward the path, already sure that when she got back to her room, she’d strip off her clothes, fetch that pocket-sized vibrator she’d stuffed into a sock and buried at the bottom of her suitcase, and press it to her clit. That would release the pressure that had built up over the last few minutes. After that, she’d probably take a scalding hot shower, hoping to melt the thoughts of Lucy, of her breasts, the swell of her waist, and that smile, away into a puddle of nothing.
But then fingers brushed against her wrist. Lucy’s fingers.“Running away again?” she asked.
Chapter Ten
Skye made a strangled noise but didn’t turn around.
“It’s fine if you are,” Lucy said quickly in a voice barely thicker than a squeak. Her smile quickly faded. All that bravado from earlier was evaporating like mist on a sunlit windshield.
Frankly, she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. One minute she was floating naked in the Pacific Ocean, high on saltwater and adrenaline and the thrill of finally scratching skinny-dipping off her never-have-I-ever list. And the next, she was squinting through the moonlight, catching the shape of someone frozen on the beach not that far away. Someone suspiciously Skye-shaped.
Her first instinct had been to crouch low and hope that Skye hadn’t spotted her. But then, suddenly, her legs had moved her forward, carrying her toward the bachelorette. Which would have been fine if she hadn’t still been half-naked, dripping wet, wrapped in nothing but a towel she’d snagged from the outdoor shower rack on her way out of the villa.
It was obvious that Lucy wasn’t thinking clearly. Not with salt on her skin and her heart beating like a racehorse’s just after the derby.
“I mean,” she went on, hoping she could somehow salvage this. “I get it if you have somewhere else to be.”
“I should go,” Skye muttered, finally turning around. She glanced up at Lucy, who was only a few inches taller than her. Her eyes flicked over Lucy’s shoulders, her breasts, the dip of her towel, and then lingered for one breath too long on her waist. “You should too. We’ve got that group date this evening and wouldn’t want to be late.”
But something in her voice cracked, like the words took too much effort to say out loud. Skye didn’t move. She didn’t step back. Her gaze didn’t harden into anything responsible or even professional. It softened. She hesitated, like she was waiting for someone to tell her not to go.
She was waiting for Lucy to tell her not to go.But Lucy couldn’t speak.She could only act.
Before Lucy could think of the consequences of what this would mean for the rest of the show, or if Skye would even welcome it, she lunged forward and kissed the bachelorette.
It was fast. Uncoordinated and messy as hell. Lucy’s lips crashed against Skye’s before her hand found the side of her neck. Her other hand was too eager, smoothing over Skye’s shoulder, to her back, pulling her closer.
But then, just as fast as she had kissed her, Lucy panicked and yanked herself back. “Oh, damn! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I have no idea what got into me. I’m really—”
“Don’t be,” Skye interrupted. “It’s fine.”
“It isn’t,” Lucy replied, mortified. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.” She folded her arms over her chest, covering her bare breasts.
What was she thinking? How could she kiss the bachelorette? How could she even…
But she didn’t have a chance to finish that thought when Skye surged forward and cupped Lucy’s face in both hands. Her touch was firm, almost desperate, like something in her had finally snapped. Her thumbs brushed along Lucy’s cheeks, and then she closed the distance between their mouths.
The kiss was searing, grounding, and dizzying all at once. It felt like Lucy had stepped off the edge of a cliff she hadn’t realized she was standing on. Skye kissed her like she’d been holding her breath for hours and was finally coming up for air. There was no self-preservation. No caution. Just Skye’s bodypressing close as the towel around Lucy’s waist threatened to slip from her hips.
Lucy gasped into Skye’s mouth. She let her hands slide up under the hem of Skye’s shirt. Her palms grazed bare skin that was softer than silk.
Lucy shivered. Whether it was from the kiss, or from the ocean still clinging to her skin, she had no idea. And she didn’t care. She just kissed Skye harder. Her tongue swept into Skye’s mouth, slow and deliberate, like she wanted Skye to feel every second of it.
“You’re cold,” Skye said suddenly. She was breathless as she pulled back just enough to press her forehead to Lucy’s. “Shit. You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy murmured, barely even feeling the cold. Her body might’ve been shivering, but the rest of her felt like it was overheating. “I don’t want to stop this. I want to keep kissing you.”
“I’m not stopping,” Skye replied, stepping back slightly. “I just… we should go somewhere less open. Somewhere out of the breeze.”
Lucy blinked at her, still dizzy on the taste of Skye’s mouth. “Are you inviting me up to your suite?”
Skye dragged her hand through her hair. “Technically, no. I’m not allowed to. None of the contestants are supposed to know where I sleep.” She glanced around the beach as if the production team might jump out from behind the palm trees. “But…” she added, eyes flicking back to Lucy before Lucy could sigh disappointedly. “If someone happened to be following me while I was walking back… that wouldn’t be my fault.”
