Make Me Bad (Page 31)

My breasts drag across his chest with every wave.

“Please.”

Put us out of our misery. Kiss me. Drown me. Something.

His hands bring my face against his again. His nose brushes mine and I smile. We’re two Eskimos. Then his mouth trails over to my cheek and he whispers something I can’t hear. I wish I had heard.

I’m impatient. I turn and steal a peck, but then I jerk away before he can deepen it. Why? I don’t know. I want this kiss, but I’m so scared of what it’ll do to me.

I’m shaking and I’m glad I had that whiskey. I feel just free enough to let this happen, just free enough to let Ben finally turn my face back to his and let his lips fall to mine again, for real this time. I breathe deeply as his mouth presses firmly, slanting, seducing.

His head tilts and the kiss deepens. This is what I’ve been longing for. My arms lock around his neck and my breasts graze his chest. They’re so sensitive, and I’m so anxious to be touched there that a moan escapes me as Ben breaks the kiss and gulps in air.

He brushes hair out of my face, finding my eyes. He’s searching for something. Consent?

I lean in and give it to him with my lips. I kiss him first this time. I take his bottom lip between my teeth and tug and then he returns full force, his fingers digging into my waist. Our tongues touch and we’re creating magic. We’re starting to grind together, and the water adds the most intoxicating element. We’re wet and slippery, but Ben has a rock-solid hold on me. Even still, my heart must think I’m in danger with how quickly it’s beating, how quickly it’s sending blood through my veins.

We kiss long enough that my lips start to ache and my fingers turn to prunes. Long enough for him to carry me closer to shore so we’re only halfway underwater. Long enough for his hands to find their way to my breasts, to curve gently around them. I’m braced for the impact, but he does the most tortuous thing: he doesn’t actually touch where I want him to. His fingers drag along my skin slowly. He trails along my ribs and then his thumb grazes the side of my breast and the shadow just beneath. Each time he moves, my chest caves as I exhale in preparation, and each time, I’m left wanting.

I know a first kiss shouldn’t be more than that. I know we’ve gone from zero to a hundred, but he can’t deprive me of this. He can’t give me his hands, so big and so rough, and not show me exactly how they’ll feel when he touches me there.

I’m losing my head. I’m losing… That’s just it: I’m losing, and Ben is winning. Ben is convincing me that this kiss could be a beginning and that even though he’s from a world of polished silver and trust funds and expectations, I could meet those expectations. I could be the girl he wants, the girl who gets the guy.

Please fall in love with me, I beg with my mouth as our kisses turn hungrier, more savage. My nails are digging into skin and he’s cursing under his breath. I need the moon to hang right where it is and for him to keep ahold of me.

His hand finally drags up and takes my breast and I arch into him, ache for him. His palm covers me, rolling back and forth, skimming across the tip. My thighs clench around him and his grip turns possessive. Hot. Needy. My breast fills his hand and it feels so good to have him touch me there. My flushed skin is sensitive and he knows just how to work me up.

I’m so turned on. I didn’t know this is what I’ve been missing all these years. I’ve touched myself. I’ve felt my own hands on my own skin, but this feeling is nothing like that. Ben has an impatient grip on me. His hips are grinding with mine. His mouth is hungry and impatient. His body is so big and warm. He was waiting for me and my head was in a book. How could I have lived in that library day in and day out and not realized Ben was out here talking with these lips and using these hands for things far less important than this?

Lights flash behind my eyelids and I think I’ve gone too long without air. I break free and heave a breath. I blink, forcing another deep inhale. There, again—red and blue lights swirl in my periphery.

I might have had some whiskey, but I know those lights, and they aren’t a result of our kiss.

“I’m sorry.”

I’ve said the phrase so many times, it sounds distorted. I can’t keep saying it. Besides, I don’t think Ben’s listening anyway. His attention is on my dad’s approaching figure.

Oh yes, that’s right: D-A-D, as in my father, as in the last person I want to see at this moment.

Let me rewind.

Ben was seconds away from tossing me down onto the sand and devouring me whole and I was seconds away from demanding he do just that when a police officer who was patrolling the seawall saw Ben and me in the ocean. Hence the swirling red and blue lights.

It’s not illegal to swim at night. However, it is considered indecent exposure to swim in the buff. Even at night. Even on a deserted beach.

Everything happened so fast once he parked his cruiser and shouted at us to get out of the water and cover ourselves. Ben reverted into lawyer mode, telling me I didn’t have to answer when the officer asked if I’d been drinking. Apparently, he thought I was drunk because I was stumbling around for my clothes. I might have been a little tipsy, but I was only stumbling because I was in such a rush to cover myself. Hello! It’s one thing to work up the courage to go topless around Ben, quite another to have one of my father’s police officers see me in that state!

Once we gave our names, the officer’s tone changed. He reared back in shock.

I should have lied and said the first thing that came to mind. Oh, my name? Sand. Sandy Palmtree. We could have laughed. Yes, ha ha. My parents are big hippies.

Instead, he looked at me with new, fresh concern.

“Hart?” he asked. “As in the chief’s daughter?”

I nodded as I tugged Ben’s jacket tighter around my front.

Then he nodded and stepped away, his hand hitting the radio on his shoulder.

My stomach dropped.

“Wait! Do you have to, y’know, call this in?” I asked with an air of hope. “Can’t we just keep this between us?”

Ben’s hand hit my arm—a warning to stay quiet—but I couldn’t just let this happen. In any other city, a cop would find the humor in the situation, tell us to get our clothes on, and move along.

In Clifton Cove, apparently every police officer is given strict orders to contact my father if I ever have a run-in with the law. It’s his way of protecting me, I suppose. As I watched his cruiser pull up to the beach, it didn’t exactly feel that way.

This whole thing is ridiculous.

I’m not going to accept the charges, and I tell that to Ben.

He has the audacity to smirk and rub his jaw. “Yeah, that’s not really how it works.”

I turn back to watch my dad walking toward us. I can feel his angry energy from a mile away. Every sea creature in the ocean behind us is probably swimming for its life in the exact opposite direction.

When he gets within earshot, I step forward.

“Dad, hi,” I say, trying for a genial tone just to see how far it will get me.

His eyes slice me in two. Okay. Right. He’s going for bad cop.

“James, thank you for the help. I can handle it from here.”

The other officer nods and heads for his car, leaving me alone with my dad and Ben. I guess his work here is done. Fine. Go! Get. Good riddance. I want to kick his tires.

“Dad…I think this has all been a misunderstanding.”

He ignores me and impales Ben with a searing glare. When he speaks, his finger is pointed at Ben like it’s a loaded gun.

“I told you to stay away from my daughter. In fact, I recall shouting those exact words at you a few months ago when you were on my front lawn.”

Ben stands quiet. Stoic. Pissed. In his black t-shirt and jeans, he has a few inches on my dad. His eyes are fierce. His chin is lifted.

When it’s clear he’s not going to reply, my dad shakes his head with disdain. “I should throw your ass in jail.”

Ben’s eyes narrow imperceptibly and I take the opportunity to jump between them. My hands hit my dad’s chest and I try in vain to push him back a few inches.

“Truly, this isn’t so bad.”

His eyes slide to me. “You reek of whiskey.”

“First of all, thank you. Second of all, you have to stop. This is not what it looks like.”

His eyes widen. “Not what it looks like? Madison, I just got a call in the middle of the night from an officer telling me my daughter was stumbling drunk on the beach, completely nude. You tell me how that sounds.”

I cringe. “Okay, yes, that’s…not ideal, but—”

He shakes his head and reaches out for my arm, yanking me toward him. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

I try and fail to pull myself out of his grasp. He can’t do this. He can’t turn the best night of my life into the absolute worst.

“Dad, let go,” I hiss, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice.

Ben steps forward then. “You heard her.”

No. No. Shit.

My dad’s nostrils flare and I know we’re seconds away from going down a road there’s no coming back from. If Ben touches my dad, my dad will press charges. Ben will be in jail and maybe one misdemeanor didn’t matter, but I’m pretty sure assaulting a police officer—even one who’s off duty—won’t be brushed aside so easily.