Sink or Swim (Beach Kingdom 3)

Lord, the expression of wonder on her face almost dropped him to his knees. “What?”

She opened her mouth and closed it. “I can do anything. It’s been this way all along and now that certainty has been knocked loose and…I want you. I want to fly. And I will have both.”

Hearing her claim possession of him, witnessing her confidence made his heart swell in his throat. “Tell me you love me, Jiya. I never want to stop hearing it.”

“I love you.”

Happiness had taken root in his chest the first time she said those words in his dining room. Now it spread its branches. “Good. Then make me work for you. That’s why you brought me over here, isn’t it? To make me sweat for a glimpse of your tits without a bra?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Then we’re on the same page, sweetheart.” He took a step in her direction and leaned down, taking a long inhale of her neck. “I’ll be in the backyard. Look pretty for me.”

It physically hurt to walk with his cock so hard, but he made his way to the yard, standing over the haphazard stones for a few moments to come up with a game plan. The morning sun was beating down and Andrew stripped off his shirt in deference to the heat around the same time Jiya joined him outside. She sat down slowly on the back step and leaned back, lifting her face to the sun with closed eyes. The position stretched the dress over her breasts, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d opened more buttons since they’d spoken inside. Her cleavage was pushed up into two separated curves in the V of her neckline, so delicious they were more responsible for his sweat than the sunshine.

“Christ,” he rasped, turning around his hat so the brim cast a shadow over his face. He did his best to focus on the job, but she was a golden brown treasure in the sun and he wanted to bury his dick between her thighs more than his next breath. To distract himself, he worked with determined focus, stacking stones, finding ways to fit them together so they would remain upright and not topple over. Kind of like his self-control. And every time he looked over at Jiya, which was often, another one of those buttons had slipped free.

He swiped a hand across his open mouth, battling the need to mosey over and get a closer look at the skin she was putting on display for him. But he loved this, too. Toiling in the sun for her satisfaction. Being her work horse made his balls feel heavy, made his mouth dry up. What an honor it would be to become the man who gratified her in every way imaginable. To know exactly how and when she needed sex. To anticipate her needs outside of bed, too. To be the reason she never went unsatisfied for fucking or food or rest. To complete any and all menial jobs that needed doing. I’ll do them. Hell, he’d get off on doing them. Because they made her rely on him and Andrew wanted that trust. Wanted to be the man she depended on. Wanted Jiya to know she had him wrapped around her little pinky finger and exploit that fact.

Just thinking about her trailing a finger up and down his bare chest and asking for something, anything, made him desperate to reach into his shorts and beat off into the dirt. She was watching him now, relaxing as he took care of business and fuck, God help him, he loved that. He knew Jiya wasn’t the kind of woman who would be happy depending on a man for everything—and because it wouldn’t make her happy, it wasn’t what he wanted either. No, it was the sparing nature of her requests that made him even hotter. In between those times she asked him for things, the anticipation built and left him as he was now.

Hot and horny and prideful.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked him, her husky voice floating across the yard. “Do you want a Diet Coke? Or a beer?”

“Better stick with soda.” Impairing his senses would be a huge mistake with her looking so inviting and his hunger cranked to the highest setting. “Thanks.”

With an effort, Andrew went back to work, having nearly completed half of the stone circle. But his concentration snapped in two when Jiya returned with the damn dress unbuttoned halfway to her waist. Without the benefit of a bra, he could catch little hints of her nipples every time she took a step and they swayed around in the open neckline. “It already looks a million times better,” she said, handing him the cold can. “If you want to take a break inside where there’s air conditioning, there are some things I need done in my bedroom.”