After untying the rope, I pushed away from the dock and picked up the oars, angry with myself again. I knew she’d been hoping I’d be fucking normal for a few minutes and at least kiss her or something, but I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t want to—my god, I was lucky I didn’t come in my pants the second she put her hands on me. Every male instinct in my body was screaming at me to throw her down right there in the boat and ravage that hot little body until she begged for mercy.
Was I crazy not to?
She wanted it, didn’t she?
God, it had been so long…and I wanted her so fucking badly.
As I watched her tilt her head back, lifting her face to the sun and exposing the pale white skin of her neck, I waited for the voice to kick in.
But it didn’t. Amazed, I allowed my gaze to travel from her neck down her arms to her hands, which were crossed in front of her shins. She’d taken off her sneakers and her toenails were painted bright blue. Her legs were folded up in front of her chest, but I remembered how her nipples had been hard a few minutes ago and wondered if they still were. What color were they? Pale pink? Or deeper, like a rose? What would they feel like beneath my fingertips, between my lips, against my tongue?
Fuck, I was so hard, and wanted so badly to touch her. I could be gentle, couldn’t I?
It was worth a try. She was worth anything.
“Your toes match your eyes,” I said, hoping to make her smile.
Her lips tipped up, but she said nothing.
“Skylar, you’ve been silent for five whole minutes. That’s a record, I think.”
I stopped rowing and let us drift. On a Wednesday afternoon, there weren’t too many boats out on the bay, and none were heading in our direction. I dropped the light anchor into the water and made sure we were tethered. Skylar still hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d opened her eyes and was looking at me.
“Everything OK?” I asked.
She lifted her shoulders. “I’m just embarrassed again. I keep touching you, and it’s the wrong thing.”
“No. It’s not.”
“You get so jumpy.”
“I know, but it’s not because I don’t like it. I do. It scares me how much I do.”
“Well…good. I guess.” She tipped her head back again, then wiggled so she was lying on her back on the bottom of the boat.
Carefully I moved to her side and stretched out next to her, head propped in my hand. “Hey.” I tapped her nose.
She ignored me, which made me smile.
“Still planning on taking a swim?”
“I might. If I get hot enough.” She folded her hands on her belly.
“That an invitation?”
She stuck out her tongue at me.
Smiling, I took off my sunglasses and studied her for another minute, appreciating the flawless symmetry of her face.
I fucking loved symmetry.
Her rosebud mouth pouted just a bit, and I traced her lips with one finger, licking my own. She was startled by my touch, her mouth opening slightly, her breaths warm and quick against my hand.
Pretty soon I couldn’t resist—I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers.
She let me kiss her, but didn’t really kiss me back, and her hands remained on her stomach. I lifted my head and looked down at her again. Stubborn little butterfly. Give in to me. I kissed each eyelid and the tip of her nose. Then I lowered my lips to her forehead and left them there. The voice returned.
You really think you should do this?
Yes. Shut the fuck up and go away. Or don’t. But I want to know what it’s like to kiss this woman, to touch her and feel her touch me. So you can either stick around and watch, or you can fuck right off.
Feeling proud of myself, I kissed her lips once more, and her eyes opened.
“Sebastian,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Ignoring the voice in my head telling me not to touch you.”
She reached up and took my face in her hands. “Good.”
My mouth closed over hers and she rolled to her side, putting her lower body flush to mine.
Amanda Dubuque says
This is so hot, I have to have this book.