“Once.” She whispered the word against his mouth. “Upon a time,” she continued, pausing to tease his lips with her tongue. “You kissed me.” She pressed her mouth to his and tasted restraint. Then she pulled back just enough. “You kissed me and told me to show you who I am.”
She shifted to her right, fighting for balance and failing. She tumbled deeper into the kiss. Still, holding tight to him, she slipped her left leg over him and climbed onto his lap. “Give me a second chance to show you,” she said. “Don’t hold back. Let me kiss you.”
She rocked her hips against his. And finally, he let go.
He consumed her. The waves crashed behind her back as if urging them on. She listened. Her tongue touched his, and she tasted a wild need that belonged in a bedroom.
His hands felt as if they were everywhere at once—in her hair, on her neck, running down her arms, pushing her dress up over her thighs.
She broke the kiss, still cradling his head in her hands. “We can’t,” she murmured. “Not here. The sun is still up. Sort of.”
The last hint of daylight illuminated the dark clouds. If a surfer decided to take advantage of the waves, or someone stepped out to walk their dog before the storm, they would see her dress decorating her waist.
She glanced down between their bodies. His perfect abs were hidden beneath his dress shirt, but she could feel them contracting. Beneath the blue fabric covering her stomach, her underwear glowed bright white against his dark suit pants.
“I’m not wearing my cute underwear,” she said.
His hands ran down from her waist to the white elastic hugging her hips. One finger slipped beneath the band, teasing the sensitive skin below. “We can fix that.” He drew the elastic down an inch. “Take them off.”
Behind her, the waves crashed over and over. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
No one is coming out tonight, she thought.
She slid off his lap long enough to discard her panties. She moved quickly. But he was faster. He stripped off his pants and boxers. Then he retrieved a condom from his wallet and started unbuttoning his shirt. He began with the last button, allowing the shirttails to part. His cock rose up, long, thick, and ready for attention.
“Come back here, Lucy.”
His low voice pulled her attention away from his erection. He’d bared his abs, but his button-down still covered his shoulders.
The picture-perfect naked businessman on the beach.
No matter how many Jared Mitchell fantasies she indulged in, her imagination couldn’t compete with reality.
A wave crashed behind her, and the water sprayed her back. She glanced over her shoulder at the rough water and empty expanse of beach.
She looked back at him. “Jared, I can’t sit on the beach without my underwear.”
“Stop sabotaging your plan, princess.” He pulled her onto his lap. His bare legs rubbed against her inner thighs. If she shifted her hips forward, his erection would touch the blond curls between her legs.
But he didn’t reach for her. Instead, he pushed the take-out bag into the sand. The juice boxes followed, landing in a pile of seaweed. Then he gathered the blanket and drew it around their bodies. He built a makeshift fortress of fabric around their hips. If anyone walked by, they would see her perched on his lap. If they walked close, they’d see her hips rocking forward, eager to feel his hard length against her skin. A curious surfer might guess what they were doing. But no one could see.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he adjusted the covering. The sand, the sea, the fresh air—it was all still there. But he’d created a place just for them beneath the blanket.
“Just doing my part to deliver your dream beach date. Long walks on the beach. Followed by . . . ” He moved his arm between them, and brushed her leg as it disappeared into the space hidden from view.
“Jared,” she gasped, rocking forward. But his hand wasn’t there to greet her eager hips. She glanced down at the space between them.
“For the record, I’m glad you didn’t take me to The Taco Bar for our first date.” He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock.
She followed his fingers, memorizing the tension and moment. He stroked up to the tip and released. The condom appeared out of thin air—or the packet he’d produced while she’d tossed her panties aside. He drew it down to the base of his cock.
“Out here,” he continued, “the sound of the ocean will cover up your screams.” Holding on to her hip, he guided her forward and over his waiting erection. With one hand firmly at the base of his cock, he glided the tip back and forth over her. “Look at me, Lucy.”
“I am,” she murmured as the first inch disappeared inside her. The first hint of an explosion teased her body as she stretched to accommodate him.
“Up here, Lucy.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. There was laughter in his eyes—and heat—but not a glimpse of uncertainty.