After a while, we grab a yellow inflatable raft big enough for the both of us before hoisting ourselves on top of it. The raft wobbles as we collapse in a heap and allow the hot sun to bake our wet flesh. The sides of our bodies press together, arms and legs touching as the water lulls us into a contented state of being.
Electricity zips through me as Beck’s fingers tangle with my own.
This shouldn’t feel nearly as good as it does.
If I were thinking clearly, I’d hightail it home. I’d forget all about the feelings Beck rouses inside me and put some much-needed distance between us. But I’m reluctant to do that. I like the way my hand fits in his larger one and the way his body feels pressed against mine. There’s a rightness that shouldn’t be there and I’m loath to do anything that will bring reality crashing down on our heads.
My breathing evens out as my body melts into the warm plastic of the raft. After a string of quiet moments, Beck rolls toward me. The float trembles with his movements. He props himself up with an elbow and warmth fills me as his gaze rakes over my nearly naked body.
The heat of his stare lingers on my breasts, which spill from the cups of my bra. I glance down and realize that the pale pink material has turned sheer in the water.
He leans down and captures one tightened peak between his lips. The moment he touches me, my breath becomes clogged in my throat. A moan slides from my lips as my fingers tangle in his damp hair, drawing him closer. Once he releases the stiff little peak, he pulls the material aside until my nipple is exposed. Then his lips are back on me, sucking the bud deep into his mouth. It’s as if there is an invisible string connecting my breast to my core. Every tug of his lips sends shock waves of pleasure reverberating through me.
He scoots closer, giving the same attention to my other breast. Except this time, he pulls the material down before drawing the tightened bud into his mouth. Sensation ricochets through my body until it reaches my toes. My eyes feather shut as I arch my back, needing to close the distance between us.
His fingers caress the valley between my breasts before sliding lower to my navel. He circles the indentation a few times before one hand slips beneath the elastic band of my thong. Back and forth, his fingers arc from one hip bone to the other. My body trembles beneath his touch. Every movement drives my senses into delirium and scatters my thoughts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mia.”
It’s almost a relief when his fingers drift lower until they’re able to trace the seam of my lips. An ache builds in my core and I widen my legs, wanting to give him more access. Not once do his fingers dip inside my body. They circle around my entrance, gliding over the soaked flesh before sliding upward to circle my pulsing clit. The moment he touches that throbbing bundle of nerves, a moan escapes.
He leans over and captures my mouth. I open so our tongues can tangle as his fingers feather over my flesh, forcing me to the brink. When I can’t stand another moment of this sweet torture, he lifts his face from mine and presses his thumb on my clit, sending a surge of shivers through my body. His fingers continue to move until every bit of pleasure has been eked from my body and I’m nothing more than an exhausted heap on the raft.
I crack my eyes open when Beck slips his hand free from my thong before lifting his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.
“So damn delicious,” he murmurs, watching me the entire time.
He leans closer and captures my lips. The taste of my arousal explodes on my tongue, sending yet another ripple of pleasure through me.
Who knew something like that could be such a turn-on?
He pulls away enough to say, “Maybe I should have led with this earlier, but I’d like to take you out.”
“Out?” I echo dumbly as if unable to string those words together to figure out the meaning. “Like on a date?”
Amusement dances in his eyes as his lips bow into a smile. “Exactly like a date.”
My brain is telling me to walk away, but my heart is leaping for joy. I tamp down my excitement before it can become infectious.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall, I remind myself.
“You don’t have to do this,” I force myself to say.
The humor filling his face turns serious. “I know, but I want to.”
Walk away and don’t look back, girl.
You know it’s the smart thing to do.
Beck Hollingsworth isn’t someone you can depend on. He’s proven that time and time again. He’ll flake, and I’ll be left holding the bag in my hands.