I see a bottle of Macallan on top, along with another bottle of tequila.
“Would love that.” I need something to calm me down.
He prepares my drink and hands it over, grabbing his glass.
Our eyes meet.
“What shall we toast to?”
“To being just another summer crush,” I say.
His smirk transforms into a full-blown grin. “You’re in?”
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Fuck yeah. Now, that’s something worth drinking for.”
We clink our glasses together and toss them back.
“Before anything else happens, we need to set rules.”
He leans against the dresser. “I agree with everything.”
I hold up a finger. “Nobody knows. Not Gale, not Josie, not anyone on this island. If people find out I’m sleeping with a guest, my credibility is over. No one will take me seriously. This place is everything to me, and I won’t risk it.”
“Agreed. Now, you’ll agree to what I want.”
“Which is?” I blink up at him.
“You’re mine. Exclusively. I don’t share.”
The possessiveness from earlier returns.
“And you’re mine?” I ask.
“Whenever you want me, babe.” He chuckles, and the sound rumbles in the back of his throat.
“Are you a fuckboy?” I ask. “I just have to know if this is what you do when you travel. Am I just another mark on your headboard?”
He pours more whiskey into his glass and shoots it back. Then he moves toward me, slow enough that I could step back if I wanted to. I don’t.
His fingers thread through my hair. “Does it matter?”
“No,” I whisper when his mouth slides along my neck.
I gasp. My body is instantly awake, responding to him.
“You like how it feels when I touch you?” He nibbles on my earlobe. “And kiss you.”
“Yes,” I admit, already putty in his hands.
He pulls away, meeting my eyes. “I’m yours until August 3. Our secret. I want you back up here every morning at seven a.m.”
“For?”
“I want you in my bed,” he says, his lips sliding across mine. “I want you for breakfast.”
“Why did you choose me? You can have anyone.”
