She nods, smiling, and sits back down with her friends.
Our friends,I remind myself.
Chapter 27
Everly
I’m alone on the patio when he returns. As he walks toward me, shirtless, in swim trunks that sit low on his hips, my mouth goes dry and my center goes wet. I swallow and press my knees together as he gets closer. Our eyes, locked on each other, forge an electrical current between us.
“Where’d everyone go?”
The spell is broken by his words, but the deep reverb of his tone only invites more heat to pool in my belly. His eyes are dark, like a deep sea bouncing between mine.
“Showering.” I swallow again, sliding my gaze to his lips as he moistens them with the tip of his tongue. “They decided to drive back tonight to catch the morning waves.” I keep my face composed, but inside I’m euphoric at having him all to myself. “Where’d Taya and Mitch have to go?”
“I think she’s moving here. To Malibu. She sold her dad’s ranch in South Point. She’s looking for places down here since she’s got acouple years of law school left. Then she can keep her horses. Mitch will continue to manage the ranch for her.”
“Are they a . . .”
He’s already shaking his head. “I don’t think so, but I don’t really know. I don’t ask. She doesn’t offer.”
“Hmm.” I hug my knees to my chest and he takes the vacant spot at the end of my lounge chair, straddling it and scooting closer to me. He rubs his palms up and down my calves and drops his chin on my knees. I can’t help it. I reach up and drag my fingers through the longer hair on top of his head, brushing it off his forehead only for it to fall back where it was.
He closes his eyes, his long black lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “Mmm.” The rumbling sigh echoes in his chest. “What should we do tonight?”
Mentally shaking myself out of his trance, I blurt out the first thought in my head. “Let’s go for a run down the beach before the sun sets.”
His eyes blink open, but he schools his surprise. “Okay. Should I go get my shoes?”
“No, let’s go barefoot. Grounding.”
He looks impressed by my suggestion. He stands, still straddling the lounge chair, and pulls me up with him. Picking me up, he steps over the chair and sets me down, takes my hand and heads toward the stairs to the beach.
After our run, I want to plunge into the ocean to cool off, but I’m sticky from the sand. I’d rather shower. My legs burn from the morning surf and now the run. Standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead to Ashley’s, I’m dreading the ascent. He reads me like a book,steps in front of me and reaches behind him, clasping my legs behind the knees, boosting me onto his back.
“No, Julian, you can’t carry me up all those stairs.” I try to wriggle out of his hold.
“Oh, but I can.” He marches up the stairs, barely breathing hard. At the top he sets me on my feet, sweat dripping from his brow. “Damn, that pool looks refreshing.” He swipes his hand down his face.
“C’mon. Pool house shower.” I toss my head toward the outbuilding. I know what will happen. I meant for the run to distract us from our . . . tendencies. This shower is going to cement them. This man still owns me. This seemingly healed version of him melts me. Before the door closes, I drop my peach bikini bottoms and pull the tie at my back, releasing the triangle top. I swing the twin swatches over my head and drop them next to my bottoms.
His shorts land next to my little pile.
Stepping into the tiled enclosure, I twist the knob. The shower of water falls from the ceiling in a waterfall, cool and refreshing. I turn and he’s there in my space. We touch palms, then lock fingers. We’re breathing each other’s air but still only touching hands. One step back, and my shoulder blades press against the smooth tile. He stretches our hands above my head, pinning them to the tile, too. His lips press to mine and his tongue slides into my mouth as he slides into me. When my knees start to buckle, he anchors me with his other hand under my hip. “I got you, Ever.”And he does—have me. All. Of. Me. Again. Still?I let my mind go blank and just feel my way to that place where it’s just him and me, skin to skin, and nothing else matters—the way we communicate best.
With shaky hands, I wrap a towel around me and tuck it under my arms. I blow out a breath through pursed lips as I swipe the fog from the mirror.Hottest fucking shower ever—and not from the water temperature.He watches me in the mirror as I brush out my hair, his hands locked on either side of the counter, pinning me in.
When I pull the locks over my shoulder, exposing one side of my neck, he swoops his head down and presses warm kisses to my pulse there. “You know . . . we should talk more.” My eyes drift closed as his lips work their magic.
“M-hm.” He keeps kissing me, now behind my ear, which he knows drives me crazy.
“I’m serious,” I press on, trying to concentrate on my words, stop round two. “With us, it always comes down to this.”
He stops and leans his chin on my shoulder and locks his calm blue eyes on mine. When I don’t elaborate, he blinks and waits. “I just want . . .” I trail off because I don’t know what I want. No, I do. I’m just afraid to say it. That I can admit that to myself is a huge step. I exhale and confess, “I’m scared.”
He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face him. “Of me?”
I’m shaking my head before he finishes asking. “No. Of course not.” I curl my fingers around his neck. “No, Julian. Never you.”
