I swallow him inch by inch, filling my mouth with the taste of him, letting my tongue work circles until I feel his leg jump against my shoulder.
He tries to warn me. “Helena—” My name is a plea and a curse, cracked at the edge of his control. “You’re an absolute goddess with that tongue.”
I grin around him and do not stop. I want him wrecked. I want to strip every layer away, every ounce of stoic discipline,until there’s nothing left but the man who watched over me for years and never asked for a thing in return.
I glance up. His face is wild, flushed and desperate, a storm of emotion he never lets anyone else see. The intimacy of this moment is so much. So everything.
His hand finds my hair and grips tight to anchor himself. He doesn’t force me, just holds on.
“Helena—” He tries again, but the word dissolves in the low growl that vibrates from his chest. His hips jerk against my mouth, all control gone. I moan around him. Seeing Zane fall apart like this, to be so vulnerable in my hands, is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. His whole body tenses. The storm outside is nothing compared to the one inside Zane, the way his need detonates through him and into me.
Zane gasps loud enough to drown out the rain. It turns into a growl as I swallow all of him without breaking eye contact. I let him see what he’s done to me, how greedy I am for everything he is. The aftershocks ripple through his legs. Zane collapses back against the cushions, head thrown back, eyes closed in absolute surrender.
Only the sound of our breathing fills the air between rumbles of thunder. The world is reduced to candlelight and two people who’ve just crossed a line they can never uncross. I sit back on my heels and wipe the corner of my mouth. I’m a little shaky but far more triumphant—and suddenly, weirdly shy.
Zane looks at me as if I were a miracle he doesn’t deserve. “Goddess,” he repeats.
“Nothing about that felt holy.”
But I’m wrong. I’m so, so wrong.
He holds my gaze for a beat, the blue of his eyes softened by the candle’s glow. Then he reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap so he can wrap his massive arms around me. Our mouths meet.
I melt into his kiss, dizzy with the knowledge that I could do this for the rest of my life.
When I pull back, I whisper, “You had me first, Zane. You will always have me. But we may have a pack.”
Zane holds my face with his warm hand. “I know. Collect them tomorrow.”
I smile warmly. “I will.”
The candle burns itself down to nothing while we sleep there on the couch together. Outside, the storm moves on.
CHAPTER 12
Lucas
It’srare to see the Atlantic this blue, especially the morning after a storm. Most days, the waves roll in like an old dog with nothing left to prove. Today, though, they’re frisky—screaming white along the rips, salt spray making everything glitter. I’m standing on my usual patch of watchtower, the splintered wood still damp under my feet, when I catch sight of Helena on the sand below.
She is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But she doesn’t fully belong here in Seamuse. Not yet, anyway. Today, she’s dressed in a white sundress that probably cost more than my surfboard. Zane’s not with her, which is strange. I let my eyes follow the line of her legs, bare and pale against the pebbly sand, then snap them back up because, you know, lifeguard professionalism. I have to at least try to maintain it.
A whistle blows in three short bursts, signaling end of shift. I make a show of stretching—arms up, twist at the waist—like I’m not dying to vault the railing and jog straight to where Helena is picking her way across the tide line. Instead, I take the stairs two at a time, flash the oncoming guard a grin, and try not to look as eager as I feel.
“Hey.” I shove my hands into the mesh pockets of my board shorts. “You’re up here kind of late in the day.” It’s only three in the afternoon, but she’s always been here much earlier when I’ve seen her.
Helena jumps a little—startled—but when she turns and sees it’s just me, she smiles. “I slept in but wanted to see if the ocean was still here after last night.”
I nod over to the water. “Can report it’s still here. Are you…?” I trail off. It’d be pretty presumptuous to assume Helena came all the way here for me. But I do want to spend time with her. “Can I buy you a coffee or a drink at the café?”
She tucks a loose strand of her black hair behind her ear. “I’d love that, actually?”
My heart does this weird little pitter-patter. “Perfect.” I offer her my arm. “Let’s go.”
We walk up from the beach together, her steps cautious and mine exaggeratedly careful to keep pace. Her honey scent fills my nostrils and the air around us, charging it with enough energy that I’m convinced I may actually be movingthroughhoney. We get a few looks from the early crowd at the café’s patio, but nothing more than the usual. Seamuse Village is used to summer visitors, even the rich ones.
The café’s porch is patched with sunlight. Helena slides into one of the shaded corners.
I order us two hard lemonades and then sit across from her. “Did you survive the storm okay?”
