Page 150 of My Real Love Affair

He caught my wrist, pressing a kiss to the inside of my palm. “Fine. But we’re showering together. Conservation.”

“That’s not how conservation works.”

“Tell that to the rainforest.”

We ended up in the glass-walled shower anyway, water sluicing over us. I reached for the shampoo, but he took the bottle first, working the lather through my hair with the same focus he’d used last night when his mouth was between my thighs. My knees threatened to betray me.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” I accused.

“Doing what?” He stepped closer, suds sliding down his chest, over the ridges of muscle I’d licked salt from yesterday on the beach.

“You know what,” I murmured.

His laugh was low, hands sliding to my waist. “Is it working?”

I tilted my head, letting the water rinse away the soap. “Ask me after I’ve had espresso.”

We toweled off in a tangle—him rubbing my back, me stealing glances at the cut of his hipbone disappearing into the low-slung towel. I slicked on body oil that smelled like coconut and watched his eyes track every sweep of my palms over my thighs.

I slipped into the new bikini I bought on a shopping adventure into one of the small towns we visited yesterday. I wasn’t big on bikinis but Austin insisted on it. And I liked the way he looked at me. Austin watched me from the doorway, shirt half-buttoned, hair still damp and curling at the ends. He looked soft and touchable and mine.

“You’re staring again,” I teased and slid on a white sundress over the bikini.

“Can’t help it. You look like you belong on a postcard I’d never send because I’d want to keep you private.”

I crossed the room, rising on my toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Then you’d better keep me close, Bancroft.”

His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush. “Plan on it.”

We finally emerged onto the deck holding hands, hair still damp, skin glowing.

Claire set down a tray of fresh papaya and croissants with a knowing smile. “Good morning. Coffee’s hot.”

Austin tugged me into the chair beside him, fingers threading through mine. “Thank you, Claire.”

“Can I get you two anything else?”

“This is perfect,” I answered.

We enjoyed our meal, hiding under the umbrella. I was doing my best to avoid getting sunburned. The first couple of days had left me pink but Austin was dedicated to keeping my skin hydrated with lots and lots of aloe and various lotions rubbed in throughout the day. And usually, those rubdowns ended up in sex.

An hour later, after breakfast and a thorough application of sunscreen, Marco was showing us the jet skis. I’d never been on one before. We’d been talking about getting on one all week, but now that we were actually doing it, I was a little nervous.

“You sure about this?” I asked Austin, who was already settled on his jet ski like he’d been born on one.

“Completely sure. Come on, you can ride with me.” He patted the seat behind him. “Come on. Trust me.”

I was so grateful not to be in charge of my own fate as I climbed onto his, wrapping my arms around his waist. He felt solid and warm and safe.

“Go slow,” I told him.

He chuckled. “Baby girl, you know me. Slow? Come on. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“Hold on tight,” he said.

“How tight?”