“What are you trying to do, then?” I ask.
He looks away as tension rolls through his strained jaw. “I don’t…I don’t fucking know.”
“Exactly.” I take a step back. “Listen, I appreciate dinner and the company but?—”
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in close, my hands landing on his chest, my sandals falling to the ground from the impact.
Slowly, his hand glides up my shoulder, to my neck, and to my jaw, where his thumb presses into the underside of my chin, angling my head up so I’m looking him dead in the eyes.
My breath seems to seize in my lungs as the air stills. The elements around us—the breeze, the ocean, the people—they all seem to fade to black as the energy between us thickens.
“What I do know,” he says softly, “is that I believe in you.”
I search his eyes, unsure where he’s going with this, but my heart is still hammering all the same.
“I know, with everything in me, that you will succeed. You’re determined, you’re smart, you’re propelled by a reason far greater than anyone could understand. I might not know where I’m headed, Renley, but I know for a fact…”—his thumb lightly tugs on my bottom lip—“I know that when you open Rudder’s, you’ll create memories for a whole new generation, and I can’t wait to see it.”
He wets his lips, his breath just as ragged as mine. I feel the pull, the way our bodies mold together without even trying, and I’m questioning everything in my mind as the urge to press my lips to his threatens to overtake me.
What am I doing?
Hell, what am I thinking?
And yet, my hands slide up his chest, my tongue wets my lips, and I lean in just a touch, waiting for him to close the distance, because I can’t do it. I can’t fathom a situation where I make the first move.
I stare up into his handsome face, his beautiful eyes that lack any sense of humor at the moment and instead show truth and honesty. I study the scruff on his chiseled jaw, which is clenchedin tension, rather than smiling with mirth. And his lips, wet, ready, practically begging for mine.
I want this.
I want to know what he tastes like.
I want to know what it would feel like to have his hand shift into my hair.
Or to have him run his hand down my back, right above my ass, where he’d pull me in tightly.
I want to know what it takes to make this man crack, to fracture in a way where all his joking and sarcasm is washed away and the true man beneath the quipster emerges.
His thumb runs across my cheek, his voice deep and scratchy as he says, “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Renley. From day one, I wondered how the fuck you were single. And I know why now, because no one has been good enough to get this close. No one has earned the right to be this close.” His teeth barely tug on his bottom lip, as a sense of frustration rushes over him. “And I’m not sure I should even be in the vicinity of you.” He sighs. “But fuck if I’m not going to take the opportunity.”
He closes the space between us and tilts my head back just an inch more before his lips press against mine.
Oh my God.
The feel of his mouth steals every ounce of air from my lungs, making it impossible to catch my breath. Unexpected butterflies erupt in my stomach, and a tremor of desire rips through my spine, pulling me in even closer.
Stars light up behind my lids and as his lips maneuver over mine, my body melts into his, my limbs becoming loose, my strength releasing from me as he holds me tightly against his body.
I want more.
Oh my God, I want so much more.
I’ve never felt a kiss reach all the way to my toes before, only to shoot back up to the top of my head, sending tingles through every nerve, every muscle.
Every inch of my body.
I smooth my hand up his chest to the back of his neck and stand on my toes, giving me another inch or two to apply more pressure.
He groans into my mouth just as his lips part and his tongue swipes across mine.
