Cape Cod Kisses (Love on Rockwell Island 1)

“You’ve talked about feeling confined before.” She knew he must be able to hear the way desire drenched every one of her words, from nothing more than the way his thumb was moving across her skin. The thought of his hands on more of her tonight was so good that she nearly forgot what she'd been about to ask him. “Do you really not like the size of the island?”

“Honestly?” By now, he'd moved his hand up to stroke over the sensitive skin of her neck. Did he have any idea at all how crazy he was making her feel as he said, “I used to feel that way. But since we’ve been spending time together, you’ve shaken some of my good memories loose, and now I’m wondering if I’ve been too critical. I’d forgotten how much I loved boating. I’d forgotten the smell of the bay at low tide. I’d even forgotten about the view from the road where I used to ride my bike. I guess I took for granted the things the island did have to offer, because I was so dead set on striking out on my own.”

Now, he brushed his hand over her hair, sending the most delicious shivers of need running through her as he tucked a strand behind her ear.

“What about you? You obviously love the island, but don’t you think you’ll eventually miss the pace of being back home and running your business?”

His mouth. She couldn't stop staring at his lips...and wishing they were on hers. But, knowing that the biggest and best pleasure would come from a combination of innate heat and truly getting to know each other, she forced herself to answer his question first. “I love my customers, of course, but it’s not like I wake up and feel like the town of Severn is all there is in life for me. I always knew that one day I’d find a place where I truly wanted to put down roots, and the more time I spend here, the more it feels like this might be it.”

“You said you spent time with your aunt at the Cape. Do you think part of feeling so comfortable on the island is because she’s nearby?”

“I wish she were still here,” she answered softly, feeling the ache of missing her aunt. “She passed away a few years ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Shelley.” He gently stroked the back of his hand against her cheek, obviously sensing how much she missed her aunt. “Did you ever consider moving to the area where she lived?”

“In Eastham?” She shook her head. “I loved it there, but I know I could never re-create what we had. That was a moment in time, you know? Whereas this island feels like the perfect combination of what my aunt and I shared and something that’s all my own. I feel like I fit in here. And I want to make new memories.”

When she turned her face to his, his thumb lightly stroking along her jawline now, she saw that the wind had tousled Quinn’s hair, making him impossibly sexier, like he’d just rolled out of bed. “What about you? What does your home in Maryland feel like?”

“Nothing like this,” was the answer he gave her. An answer that she was barely able to process when he was moving his thumb across her lower lip at the same time. “Nowhere near as good as being with you.”

He moved closer and with their lips only a breath apart, heat rushed through her. He looked at her for a long and heady moment, letting her see how much he desired her—and she was positive that he had to be able to read in her eyes that she was just as wild for him.

Shelley was already moving to kiss him when he sealed his lips over hers. Greedily, she took her fill, fisting her hands in his hair, giving in to the fierce wanting that had been pulsing between them for days. Desire overrode her every other sense—desire for more of his taste, his scent. The feel of his hard muscles thrilled her as he licked over her bottom lip, and she had to sink her teeth lightly into his in response.

He let out a groan that echoed off into the night sky, his body crashing down upon hers on the padded bench, and she’d never loved anything as much as she loved his heat coursing down the entire length of her. She felt white-hot on the inside, like all of her could just melt around all of him and that every moment in Quinn’s arms would be perfect. Beyond perfect. As perfect as the feel of his tongue slicking over hers, consuming her, claiming her as his own.

His hands tangled in her hair as his lips ran a devastating path across her cheeks, then back to her mouth, then down over her chin and the soft underside so that she was arching her neck back even as she began to beg. A breathless please, which he immediately answered with a light flick of his tongue against her sensitive skin and then the slight edge of his teeth over her collarbone.