"You do know you can only use that excuse possibly one more time, right?"
"I'm aware," I croaked, reaching out to touch her smooth clean skin. "I'm also frighteningly aware of you."
"Frighteningly?" Beth repeated. "Is that a compliment? Or does that mean I look scary."
"You look beautiful," I said honestly. "Scary beautiful. The type of beautiful that guys are afraid to touch. The type of beautiful that makes men want to risk everything for one taste, one touch, one night. Mix that with your brains, and you're the epitome of why men fight wars."
Beth's smile lit up my world. "Are you saying men fight over intelligence as much as they fight over beauty?"
"Yes," I whispered, pulling her body against mine as I took us closer to the waterfall. "Because you wear your intelligence, it's part of your beauty. You can't separate the two. I admire both. I'm attracted to both."
Her breath hitched as a blush stained her cheeks. "Nice words."
"True words." I cupped her face. "You may be asking for the fairytale, but I wouldn't lie to you just to make you feel better."
She tried to jerk away from me. But I held her face captive.
"If you could see what I see," I traced her jaw with my fingertips, "you would fully understand why you are the most frightening woman I've ever met."
"I do see what you see." Beth sighed. "That's the problem."
"I disagree."
"Big shock."
"Listen to me." I pulled her flush against my body. "You see boring. I see brilliant. You see brown hair, I see brown hair with honey highlights. You see normal pale-pink lips, I see bubble gum."
"Bubble gum?" She smirked.
"That's what you taste like." I nipped her lower lip with my teeth. "Damn bubblegum that never loses its flavor. I could taste you all day and still crave your sweetness." I was struggling between my own honesty and feelings. I wanted her to see herself how I did, but at the same time, telling her these things? It didn't change what I would do. I would walk away. I would. I would. I had to keep telling myself that.
"Why don't you?"
"What?" I snapped out of it.
"Conduct an experiment."
She trailed her fingers down my chest. I felt it in all the places I was trying to ignore, so I kept her virtue intact. Knowing a hairy middle-aged man was most likely watching us was literally the only thread holding my arousal together.
"What kind of experiment?"
"A taste test." Her arms wrapped around me, which meant we were chest to chest, her softness against every plane on my body.
"I like tasting." My mouth collided with hers before I could form another thought. I wasn't sure if I leaned in or she leaned in, or if I was seriously hallucinating from being drugged by Grandma.
In that moment. I didn't want to be honorable. I really wanted to be a manwhore like Jake. I wanted to be the guy who didn't apologize all the freaking time. I didn't want to be the stuffy US senator, who half of the state hated. I didn't want to have to worry about someone watching me, or ruining my reputation.
I just wanted to have her.
And I was selfish enough to want to take her any way I could — even if that meant that I'd be giving her nothing in return. It made me the worst type of man to willingly walk into something, knowing that I wasn't going to stay. I may not be lying to her about my actions. But I knew that actions helped people form opinions, and my actions would lead her to believe I wanted more than the next few days — and that was the last thing I could afford. A relationship past the few days we had.
"Sorry to break this little love scene up," our guide said from the shore. "But if we're going to make it back in time for your dinner reservation, you gotta wrap this here up. How much longer you need? Five? Maybe ten minutes?"
I jerked away from Beth and grumbled, "Five minutes? Really, man?"
"At least thirty." Beth winked, bless her heart. "But we'd have to charge for the show, so we may as well get out now."
"Damn, I would have liked a little show," another voice chimed in from behind us.