“Never.” Her nose tingled, and she blinked away the spangled haze in her vision. “Never, Thomas.”
His lean frame radiated heat, and the muscles of his arm tensed beneath her trailing fingers. The thumb at her jaw shifted, drifting down her neck and to her shoulder in a gentle, heated path. Then it halted, and he swallowed hard.
“Callie, I need to do this right, so let me be clear.” He cupped her face, his fingers light and careful. “I want you. In my life, in my bed, in my heart. Do you want me?”
She beamed a smile. “Yup.”
His eyes flared, and he leaned down until his forehead rested against hers. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Dinner. Beach. Bed.” She arched her back until her lower body pressed to his, and that little sound from the back of his throat shot through her in a bolt. “Are you with me?”
He rubbed her nose with his so softly, despite the heated hardness she felt against her belly. “Always.”
NINE
“This is our spot.” Callie laid her towel on an empty two-person lounger and smiled at Thomas. “What do you think?”
He had his hands on his hips, his eyes to the endless waters on the horizon. “It’s beautiful here. Just like your friend said.”
In fact, Tess had said more. “Almost no one goes there,” she’d told Callie before the trip. “It’s a secluded spot, kids aren’t allowed, and most adults don’t want to walk so far from the hotel. If you need time to yourself, that’s the place.”
Tess hadn’t lied. This section of the beach was deserted. Especially late at night.
No kids burying their parents in sand. No other couples wading hand-in-hand through the surf. No one floating on the ubiquitous sunshine-yellow rafts supplied by the resort. No producers or camera operators or boom mic guys. Not even a single hair-and-makeup woman lamenting the shiny state of Callie’s T-zone.
She and Thomas had found a spot where they could be completely alone. A miraculous, adults-only stretch of moonlit sand, cushioned loungers, and dark, lazy waves, with the rustling palm fronds above providing flawless accompaniment to a spectacular, humid evening.
Perfect for her purposes.
A little bit more foreplay. One last tease of a taste before the feast.
“Do you want to sit in the water?” Thomas smoothed a stray strand of hair back from her temple and cupped the nape of her neck with his long, warm fingers. “Or lie down for a while under the palms?”
He’d listened. Listened and remembered. And as always, no one could mistake the adoration and gentleness in his touch.
He was totally getting lucky that night.
“Let’s share this lounger.” She sat on its low edge, sliding away from his hand. “I think we could both use a little rest.”
His mouth opened, then pressed shut again. His eyes were now glued to the wide chair, roaming from corner to corner as if he were doing some mental math.
He could save himself the effort. She’d already run the calculations, and there was no way they could both fit on that thing without entwining their bodies in a hot tangle.
His fingers curled into his palms.
She patted the cushion invitingly.
“Callie, is this really the place you want to?—”
His voice choked into silence. Probably because he’d finally looked down at her and noticed her face’s proximity to a very specific part of his plaid swim trunks.
When she rose to her feet again, she deliberately brushed up against him, and he staggered way more than expected in response to such light contact. Then she moved a few steps away—to offer him a better view—grasped the hem of her gauzy sundress with both hands, tugged it over her head, and dropped it on the sand.
After dinner, she’d changed into a one-piece swimsuit the color of whipped cream, with thin shoulder straps dropping into a deep vee in front. The design—her favorite among the suits she’d brought—left her back almost completely bare, down to the incipient swells of her ass. And a good chunk of that ass was exposed by high-leg cut.
It was a death blow to his control, delivered in swimsuit form. Or so she hoped.
Thomas gaped at her for a moment, then squeezed his eyes shut, the flush on his handsome face evident even in near-darkness, his toes curling in the sand.
