“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said quickly, smiling now. “I just wish you had told me sooner about Alexis instead of keeping it to yourself.”
“I wasn’t sure how,” Skye replied truthfully. She’d considered it twice before, once right after Alexis had confronted her and again the next day during the breakfast date when Alexis had practically force-fed her a croissant. But she hadn’t because she had no idea how to formulate the words. Not until now at least.
Lucy reached over and interlocked their fingers. Her hand was warm and grainy from the sand. “It’s okay,” she said, squeezing tightly. “Forget about Alexis.”
“It isn’t that easy, Lucy.”
“Maybe it is,” Lucy said as she sprang up. “Maybe it’s time for you to start enjoying yourself. You’re taking this show way too seriously. We should both be more like Amy. We should letthings go.” She started peeling off her dress as if it were made of fire.
“What does Amy have to do with this?” Skye asked, glancing up at her with a deep frown set on her forehead. “And why are you taking your clothes off?” She whipped her head back to the veranda, half expecting the entire camera crew to be standing out there, filming them, but there was nothing and no one.
Lucy didn’t answer. She simply dropped her dress. The blue fabric hit the sand, and then she unhooked her bra. Skye found herself swallowing hard. Lucy’s breasts bounced freely, her nipples perked, and then before Skye could register what was happening, Lucy tugged off her lacy panties.
“You know there’s like a ton of production crew back there. They could decide to come out here at any time,” Skye said quickly, but Lucy was already sprinting toward the ocean. She spun around to face Skye and jogged backwards. “Stop thinking about that and come swim with me.”
Before Skye could say hell no, it was too risky, Lucy dove under a wave.
Chapter Twenty
Lucy let the waves shove her around, half laughing, half sputtering as the breakers slapped cool and stinging water against her bare skin. She tilted her face up into the dark, salt-heavy air and tried not to think about how close she was to a dozen cameras and the entire production crew. She was naked. Bare-bummed and reckless, it seemed. Suddenly, the entire thing felt like a huge mistake. Skye wasn’t moving. At all. She was just a dark silhouette up on the beach with her arms crossed over her chest.
Lucy’s stomach plummeted to her toes. What if Skye wasn’t coming in? What if she just sat there while Lucy flailed around in the waves like a complete idiot?
Her laugh faded away with her confidence, and suddenly the ocean felt too big and too loud. Lucy hugged herself against the cool air and waited as her heart tripped over itself. She would give it another five seconds, ten at the most, before heading back to shore.
But then, suddenly, there was movement.
Skye stood up. She stretched. And for a terrifying second, Lucy thought she was just dusting herself off before heading back up to the party. But then her hands went to the zipper on the back of her dress, and dark fabric peeled away inch by inch, revealing Skye’s ivory pale skin that seemed to glow all ethereal-like in the moonlight. She stepped out of the dress and made quick work of her bra before she tossed it to the sand. Her underwear went next, a tiny scrap sliding down her long, toned legs, and Lucy’s breath hitched.
For the second time that evening, Lucy experienced what could only be called a dizzying sense of relief. It was so fierce that it once again nearly knocked her flat. Not only was Skye not sleeping with Alexis, but she also wasn’t pushing Lucy away. She was here. Stripping down. Choosing this and choosing her.
“I thought you weren’t going to come,” Lucy said when Skye waded into the water. She was gorgeous. Lucy couldn’t help but stare as the moonlight slid over the angles of Skye’s body, showcasing her perky breasts, the curve of her hips, and her flat stomach.
“I couldn’t let you skinny dip alone,” Skye said just before a wave crashed against her waist. She let out the tiniest startled yelp and then leaped forward to dodge the next one. “And I thought you should know that I’ve actually never done this before. Skinny dipping.”
Lucy gasped. It was a mock gasp, but still, Lucy was a bit surprised. “Seriously?”
“Never,” Skye said, moving closer. “It just never appealed to me.”
“And how do you feel about it now?” Lucy asked, keeping her eyes on Skye’s face when all she wanted was to flick her gaze down… and down further. “Does it appeal to you now?”
“You have no idea,” Skye said, smiling. “It turns out, you just need the right person to go skinny dipping with. There’s no fun in doing it alone.”
“And you’ve never had the right person before?” Lucy asked. The question just slipped out before she could stop it. She knew she was pressing where she shouldn’t and pushing for answers when the moment was already perfect. But she couldn’t help it. A tiny part of her was green with jealousy at the thought of Skye with someone else, and another part—maybe a little bigger, but only by a spoonful—was desperate to know that she was the exception.
“No,” Skye said, shaking her head.
Skye was barely a breath away. She was so close that Lucy could see tiny droplets sliding down her jaw and feel the ripple of water when her knee brushed Lucy’s under the surface.
“I haven’t,” Skye added. “Not with anyone I’m willing to risk getting caught by the camera crews.”
“But you are with me?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t think I can spell it out any clearer than this,” Skye laughed, pointing to herself and the ocean surrounding them. Her grin was devastating, the kind that made Lucy want to melt right there in the breakers. Her knees were weak, and her heart hammered like a drum solo.
Skye said something else, but Lucy didn’t catch it over the wave that slipped past them and crashed onto the shore. Or maybe she just wasn’t listening anymore because all she could think about was kissing Skye. Thankfully, it seemed Skye felt the same way because she was lunging forward. Everything suddenly went sideways, chaotic and perfect all at once.
Their bodies collided, but it was anything but elegant. Skin crashed against skin, all slippery and impossibly warm. Lucy’s arms flew up around Skye’s shoulders while Skye’s hands clamped down onto Lucy’s waist. The waves shoved them about, slapping against their ribs, but they didn’t move. It was as if they were fixed to the sand beneath their feet, and to each other.
