Forbidden Fruit - A Naughty Collection

He turns to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders, tugging me into the crook of his arm. “So, I love how you fit in my arms. Perfectly. Like you were always meant to be there,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on my hair.

“I . . .”

“Look at me.” Lifting my gaze to his, those dark pools of desire tighten everything south of my belly button. “You’re mine now.” He drops his mouth to mine in a soft, sensual kiss. Our lips mold together, fusing with heat and desire. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and duels with mine.

A whimper falls from me, but he swallows it. He inhales me as I do him. As if I’m his breath, his lifeforce, and he needs me to survive. The realization hits me, deep in the depths of my young, teenage heart that this man loves me.

When he finally breaks the kiss, his stare bores into mine. Then he grins. Not the cocky smirk I’m so used to, this one is filled with affection. It’s sweet and romantic. “I love how pliable you are in my arms.”

“Mr. Connor, we’re here,” the driver calls from the front of the car. And we’re dragged from the cloud we’re in.

“Thank you, Graham.” Grayson opens the door and exits the car. Turning, he offers me a hand, which I accept. The sun is high, and when Grayson grabs the basket in the trunk, I’m giddy with excitement. “I’ll call you when we’re ready.” And with that, we walk down toward the water’s edge. I know I’ll be wanting to come out here more often, especially with the man who’s made me happier than I’ve ever been.

We’ve been in Seattle for almost all my teenage years, and I’ve never been on a date at the beach. Finding a secluded spot is easy since it’s so quiet. “It’s so gorgeous out here today.” I watch him lay down a blanket. Something too romantic, too intimate. It’s a real date.

“Are you going to watch me all day?” he quips, one side of his mouth lifting in that signature smile. The one that sets my heart alight.

“Maybe.” I reach for the hem of my tank top. Pulling it off, I launch it at him, and he chuckles a deep, sexy rumble. Shoving my shorts down, they pool at my feet, leaving me in a string bikini. His gaze scorches me as if he’s touching me. A slow lick of heat trails from my feet, up my legs, and slowly up to my breasts.

“Jesus, Mila . . .” When those mocha pools meet mine, they’re molten.

“I’m going for a swim.” I giggle. Toeing off my sandals, I turn and run toward the water. The waves crash against me. It’s cooling, but it doesn’t calm the fire burning inside me for him. For Grayson Connor.

Diving into the waves, I relish the water. When I break the surface again, I turn to find Grayson standing on the sand inches from where the waves are crashing. “Are you going to come have lunch? Or am I going to come out there and drag you out?” he calls to me with a smile on his face. Warm and inviting.

I pad through the water, pushing my way toward him, and as soon as I have purchase on the sand below my feet, I break into a run. Crashing into his arms, earning me the warmth of his embrace, I nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his cologne, the scent that’s him. Only him.

“Cold out there?” He lifts me easily, walking us back to the blanket.

“It’s a bit chilly, but it’s refreshing. Are you going to join me?” I murmur as he sets me down. Shaking his head, he pulls his T-shirt up over his head, and I take in the taut torso. His chest has a light dusting of hair, dark and masculine. Everything about him screams man.

“I don’t swim, sweet cheeks,” he tells me with that signature smirk. “Let’s eat.”

The spread of food is incredible. How he managed this in only an hour, I don’t know, but it looks delicious. “You trying to fatten me up?” I quirk, popping my hip and crossing my arms in front of me. His dark eyes trail up my body in a heated gaze.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to need your energy for what I have planned, so why don’t you eat up?” There’s something illicit in his voice, and I can’t stop my thighs from squeezing together.

“Am I going to be able to walk tomorrow?” I giggle, but the dark look he pins me with tells me I may not. Those almond-shaped eyes narrow farther, and his bow lips purse in what looks like an air kiss, and I’m dying to feel them on my skin.

“Perhaps, if you’re a good girl—”