I glance up at him through my lashes, matching his tone. “Be careful what you wish for. I’m very good with sharp objects.”
His eyes darken, pupils flaring before he reins himself in. “Noted. I’ll keep my distance from anything pointy… and from you.”
“Too late,” I murmur, brushing past him on purpose so my shoulder grazes his arm. The brief contact sends an electric jolt down my spine. “You’re already in the splash zone.”
He doesn’t step back. Instead, he turns with me, closing the gap until the heat of his chest ghosts against my back. His voice drops, rougher, edged with something close to hunger. “You keep finding new ways to get closer. Almost like you enjoy testing how thin my patience is.”
I tilt my head. “Maybe I just like watching you pretend you’re not enjoying the view from the edge.”
A muscle jumps along his jaw. “Enjoying it would require lowering my guard. And we both know what happens the second I do.”
I step half an inch closer until my dress brushes his shirt. Close enough that I have to tip my chin to meet his gaze. The contact is barely there, yet it feels as if the entire beach has narrowed to a two-inch strip between us.
“Enlighten me,” I murmur, slowly tracing my tongue along my lower lip. “What exactly happens the moment you lower your guard?”
His gaze traces my mouth, lingers on the rapid flutter at the base of my throat, then returns to my eyes. “You get exactly what you’ve been begging for since the moment your water hit my lap. And neither of us walks away clean.”
Heat surges beneath my skin. I swallow once before trusting my voice again. “Good thing I like getting a little dirty. And you strike me as the type who pretends he hates messes… right up until he’s the one making them.”
He exhales through his nose. “Then keep pushing, Sienna. See how long it takes before the splash zone becomes the whole damn ocean.”
My pulse kicks so hard against my ribs that I can feel it in my throat, in my fingertips… even in places I refuse to name out loud. Before I can say something clever or stupid enough to keep this going, Aria’s voice cuts through the air.
“Are you two going to stop flirting and… join us?” she calls from the table, amusement thick in her voice.
“We’re not flirting,” Milo and I snap, once again, in perfect unison.
Every face at the table stares at us, and I want nothing more than for the sand to swallow me whole.
Milo’s gaze cuts back to me. He presses his lips into a flat line, then gestures toward the two empty chairs with a slight nod. “After you.”
I slide past him, letting my hip graze his thigh for a lingering heartbeat. A low, involuntary sound rumbles from the back of his throat. I hear it, feel it. And my pulse stutters in response.
When we sit, our chairs are so close that when I cross my legs, my bare knee brushes the linen of his slacks, and a muscle in his thigh jumps at the unexpected contact.
I lean in and lower my voice. “You flinched.”
“I didn’t flinch.”
“You totally flinched.”
“I was… adjusting.”
“Adjusting away from my lethal knee?” I arch a brow. “Smart survival instinct.”
He turns his head until his breath ghosts my ear. “It’s not lethal. It’s restless… like the rest of you.”
The only response I offer is a smile. Seconds later, a server walks by with a tray of vibrant cocktails. I quickly snag two from the tray with a thanks, then pass one to Milo.
“Trying to get me drunk?” He murmurs, his fingers brushing mine as he takes the glass.
“Trying to loosen that stick you carry everywhere,” I correct sweetly. “It’s blocking what’s left of your personality.”
He takes a slow sip, eyes locked on mine over the rim. “You think I need loosening?”
“Like a one-screw-away-from-collapsing bed frame during a mind-blowing orgasm.”
His mouth twitches. “Careful there, Sienna. Keep talking like that, and I might start enjoying your company.”
