His fingers skim along my thigh, teasing the edge of the slit. And I can’t breathe. He wouldn’t dare. Not here. Not at dinner. Not in front of?—
He dips between my legs and I snap them together, locking him in as I choke on my champagne.
Yes.He absolutelywoulddare.
‘You okay?’ Ian frowns at me. ‘You need some water?’
I wave him off, patting my chest as I sit straighter – and Ax takes his chance to press higher. ‘No.’
Ian’s eyes flare.
Shit. ‘I mean— no.’ Smile. ‘Thank you. I’m good.’
Axel’s chuckling, and I know it’s not blondie making him laugh.
And he doesn’t stop. He nudges closer, unhurried, teasing me with the same slow, circling caress I treated him to on the jet ski. And it feels too good. Too hot. My legs melt open under his quiet encouragement before I can talk myself outof it – and when he reaches the lace, everything in me clenches.
‘Charlene tells me you look after Lottie quite a bit?’ Ian says.
‘Mmhmm,’ is all I can manage.
‘It’s always more fun when you can hand them back, though, right?’ Ian laughs, taking a swig of his drink. ‘People used to say that to me all the time before I had kids, and I’d think how awful, but now I have my own, I…’
He keeps talking, but my pulse is roaring in my ears. Heat floods my breasts, my belly, my blood…
I nod and nod, taking my cues from his every pause, as Axel’s fingers deepen their caress, strumming my clit with merciless precision.
‘Are you sure you don’t want some water?’ Ian says, topping up my glass anyway. ‘You look a little warm.’
Axel chuckles again, and I trap his hand with my legs.Not funny.But the moveonlydrives the fire deeper. My core spasms with the thrill – but there’s no way in hell I can come here. I just can’t.
…but isn’t this what I wanted?
For him to take me high, so high I get my fill this time…?
Then leavehimhanging.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’
Charlie and her team appear on deck, and I nearly bolt from my seat – likely would’ve if not for Axel’s grip tightening around my thigh, holding me in place.
‘To commence your meal this evening,’ she announces, gesturing to the four crew members approaching with two enormous silver bowls piled high with ice, ‘the chef has prepared freshly shucked oysters on the half-shell, served with a classic champagne mignonette.’
Oysters.
An aphrodisiac I absolutely do not need.
A quiet laugh slips out, and Axel catches it, his eyes sparking like he knowsexactlywhere my thoughts just went. He slides his hand away as the bowls are set down to a chorus of ohs, ahs, and thank yous, and everything in me sighs – relief or regret, I honestly can’t tell.
But I’m not ready to let the contact go.
He’s reaching for his beer – the onlyone on the table – when I ease my foot out, brushing it along the inside of his calf. His hand stills. His knuckles flash white. And I smile as I meet his eye.
If you can give it, you can take it, buddy.
Touch-phobia, be damned.
And trust me, tonight, I’ll keep giving it right up until he’s exactly where I want him.
