The Billionaire's Island Bride (South Shore Billionaires 3)

That much, at least, was 100 percent true.

* * *

Brooklyn savored each bite of the amazing dinner and every last drop of the Riesling. Now she was warm and full and, if she were honest, seriously reconsidering her words of the afternoon.

Cole looked so approachable in the robe that all she wanted to do was untie the belt at his hips and see what happened. She wasn’t brave enough, but it didn’t stop her body from being hyperaware of his. He was across the room right now and she was already imagining what it would feel like to have his skin against hers.

She wasn’t a virgin, but it had been a very long time, and truthfully she was starting to care for Cole—a lot. He would walk away one of these days and she knew the island would be lonely without him. If they were to indulge themselves—and it certainly would be nothing more than an indulgence—she wasn’t sure she could untangle her emotions from the act, and that would leave her not just lonely but potentially desolate.

But oh, the temptation was very, very real.

The awareness only intensified as they found a movie on TV and got into the bed to watch it. It was a legal drama, and Brooklyn found herself caught up in the story line. At one point Cole paused it and got up to get refreshments. There was a small bottle of prosecco that Brooklyn thought sounded nice, so he did the honors and popped the cork for her, then fixed himself a drink from the small bottles and mix. There were snacks, too—nuts and chips and chocolate. He brought an assortment over and put it on the bed between them, shot her a boyish grin and plopped back into the bed. The movie continued and Brooklyn stole glances at him, contentedly munching potato chips and sipping on whatever he’d mixed with his soda.

The prosecco fizzed lightly on her tongue, slightly sweet but not overpowering. The air in the room changed, however, when the main characters of the movie escaped danger and found themselves alone, full of adrenaline, and gratitude for being alive.

Cole shifted slightly on the bed, but Brooklyn couldn’t look over. She refilled her glass with the rest of the prosecco and tried to ignore her intense awareness of Cole at the moment, instead focusing on the screen. But that only made things worse. That Cole remained equally silent ratcheted the tension up another notch. Was he feeling it, too? That undeniable pull, made tighter by what was happening on screen?

She stole a glance at him and found him watching her. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak. He had said today on the beach that she was in control. At the time she’d thought it was control to say no, to keep things platonic. But now that word, control, took on a whole other meaning.

If she wanted something to happen, it could. And it could happen how she wanted it to. Everything was within her reach. All she had to do was reach out and grasp it.

She might not have another chance. She’d set her life up as she wanted. Why couldn’t she have this one night to remember?

The scene switched, but Brooklyn reached for the remote and hit the mute button, sendin

g the room into silence. Cole’s neck bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t move, didn’t shift his gaze. Her stomach was a tangle of anxiety and anticipation, but she took a breath and lifted her chin.

Control. Power. Maybe it was finally time to reclaim hers.

She shifted and knelt on the bed, then reached for the tie on Cole’s robe and tugged it gently. The knot fell away easily, and she reached down and opened the robe. Glory, he was beautiful, all lean muscle and definitely ready for her. Still he remained silent, as if speaking would break the tenuous spell.

Then she reached for the belt on her robe and undid it. Fear spiked... Long time, new man, lights on, and even a little body insecurity all played into her nervousness. But her need and longing overrode the sensation, and she let the robe gape open. Neither of them wore anything beneath the soft fabric, so they were not quite naked but were undressed all the same.

“Brooklyn,” he finally whispered. “I don’t... I can’t...”

She loved that he was struggling to put words together. He was normally so self-assured, knowing exactly what to say. The feminine power of the moment seeped into her, emboldening her. She moved forward until her knees were next to his thighs. Then she slid her right leg over his so that she was straddling him, their bodies close together but not joined. Everything in her was crying out for completion, but she’d be damned if she’d hurry.

Control.

“Touch me,” she said quietly, her voice roughened by desire. “Please, Cole. I’m dying for you to touch me.”

“Show me where,” he said, and she thrilled at taking the lead.

Brooklyn reached for his hand and guided it to her breast, loving the feel of his warm fingers against the sensitive skin. Her eyes closed for a moment as she absorbed the sensation, the tenderness of it, imprinting onto her memory the look of awe on his face as she’d opened her robe. She felt utterly beautiful and desirable, and free to take whatever she needed or wanted.

And what she wanted was what he wanted, wasn’t it? She reached down and touched him, heard the harsh hiss of his breath as he inhaled. She opened her eyes only to find his closed, his head back against the pillow, strain tightening his face. All because she was touching him. His hips nudged against her and there was a fleeting feeling that this couldn’t be real.

To prove she was wrong, she shifted and then settled, and they both stilled, struck by the magnitude of what she’d just done.

It was more than need. More than desire. It was...right. Like something clicked into place in that moment, key to lock. Her heart trembled as Cole’s eyes opened and found hers. “Brook,” he whispered, and tears stung the backs of her eyes.

She would not cry, even though this was the most beautiful moment she could ever remember.

Instead she started to move, dying to use this unexpected power to give him pleasure.

In the end the pleasure was mutual. Her robe slid off her shoulders and pooled at her hips. Skin grew slick and breaths quickened; he said her name and she called his in response. And yet they took their time and made it last, hovering on the edge of bliss as if they knew this was their one and only time. And when the final edges of their restraint frayed, any semblance of control was lost as they toppled into the unknown together.

CHAPTER TWELVE