Tempt (Take It Off #3)(24)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

I nodded. I wasn’t about to admit how freaked out I really was. It wouldn’t make anything better. And besides that, I might not have gotten a ton of sleep, but lying here, crushed up against him, was better than sleep. My brain might be in desperate need of a chill pill, but my body was more relaxed that it had ever been—even after we heard the somber firing of a gun.

Just the mere memory of what Nash and I did last night had heat wrapping around my insides, a slow burn igniting somewhere within me.

He didn’t seem to notice the way he affected me. His hand slid up to rest at the dip in my waist as his thumb slid back and forth over my skin. I shivered. He pressed a kissed to my forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

I nodded. I was so hungry.

He moved away, leaving me lying there all alone, and my eyes popped open. He came back seconds later and sat down, Indian style, in front of me. I rolled onto my back and looked up as he dangled the Luna bar in the air.

He had one in each hand.

I gasped. “We’re going to eat them?”

He gave a little shrug. “We have all the fruit and avocado now. I think it would be okay if we indulged this one time and each ate one.”

I groaned. An entire bar all to myself? Heaven.

I reached for it and he snatched it away.

“Hey!” I demanded.

“You didn’t tell me good morning yet.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Hi, does not count.”

I pursed my lips while watching him. He had this little twinkle in his eye, and scorching heat swept me anew. I sat up, the blanket falling around my lap, and scooted so our knees bumped. Then I leaned forward and kissed the underside of his jaw.

He hadn’t been able to shave since we crashed and the short beard he was sporting tickled my lips. I kissed him again, going down his neck.

“Wrong direction,” he whispered, his voice husky.

My, he was demanding in the morning.

I changed course, kissing back up his neck, across his jaw, and then rubbing my cheek against his, enjoying the scruffy feel on my face. Then I turned my head and grazed his lips with mine. Before I pulled back, my hand went into his lap and grabbed at the bar he was holding.

He dropped the bar, but his newly free hand came up to wrap around the back of my head and hold me firmly at his mouth.

He deepened our kiss, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, sliding it over my teeth and then nipping at my lip. Instead of pulling my bottom lip between his, he pulled my top lip in, gently tugging it down and into his all-too-willing mouth. I groaned and let go of the bar. My hand grazed something else in his lap. Something that would probably fill me up a lot better than any type of food.

He pulled back, a smile playing on his lips. Then he reached between us, unwrapped one of the chocolate goodies, and held it up to my lips. I stared at him when I took a bite. I couldn’t help the little groan that erupted when the chocolate hit my tongue and melted.

“Your little noises drive me insane,” he murmured.

After I chewed and swallowed, he gestured for me to take another bite. “You have a thing for feeding me,” I said as I chewed.

“A strong man always makes sure his woman is provided for. That she has everything she needs.”

I paused in chewing, the food no longer holding my interest. “That sounds very possessive,” I observed.

He smiled again. “I am a very possessive man, bella.”

My stomach did a full three-sixty inside my body. I may not always know what direction I’m going, but I always make my own way. I’m not the type of girl who likes to be told what to do, who wants to be dictated to.

But Nash… he made being possessed sound like the most satisfying thing ever.

I grabbed the other bar and unwrapped. Then I held it up to his lips. “Eat.”

He opened his mouth and bit into the food, his lips pulling away like it was a lollipop. We didn’t say anything else. We just sat there and fed each other until the bars were gone.

And then he kissed me again, a lingering kiss that tasted like chocolate.

When I finally stood, I noticed that I had sand in places that weren’t entirely comfortable. In fact, if I wasn’t careful, it might turn painful. As I walked toward the water bottles, I moved a little funny, trying not to rub the sand farther into my, ummm… lady parts.

“Bella…” The little nickname he used more than my name sounded like an angry command. Then he was standing behind me, spinning me around, and drilling his stare into mine. “Did I hurt you last night?”

“What? No!”

“You’re walking funny. I tried to be gentle.” His forehead creased.

I reached up and traced the cute lines.

“You were.” I whispered. “It was… it was seriously the best experience of my life.”

He relaxed, but the creases still didn’t go away.

“I have sand in uncomfortable places,” I admitted sheepishly.

He chuckled, the little lines disappearing. Before I knew what he was doing, he had my shower items in my messenger bag and he hoisted me up onto his back—piggyback style.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying not to notice that when he walked, the muscles in his back moved and brushed against my crotch.

“To clean up,” he said simply and then made his way deftly through the trees and plants while carrying me along.

Turns out ignoring any part of him was impossible.

By the time the little lagoon with the waterfall came into sight, I was practically panting with need.

Once again he seemed oblivious (really, are all men like this?) and sat me on my feet beside the water. “Take off your clothes,” he said while unpacking the little bottles of shampoo and the bar of soap.

“Excuse me?” I replied, lifting an eyebrow.

He straightened, pinning me with those intense green eyes. He prowled—that’s right, he didn’t walk; he prowled—over in front of me and lifted the hem of the oversized shirt, his knuckles skimming the fronts of my thighs all the way up as he moved. “We need to get that sand off you, bella.”

“Okay,” I said dumbly as the shirt slid up over my arms and then fell to the ground, leaving me standing there in nothing but a little pair of panties. It wasn’t cool outside, but the air felt chilled when it brushed over my fiery skin.

When he reached for the waistband of my panties, I jerked back. “Turn around,” I ordered.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious.” Last night had been dark, with nothing but the dying embers of the fire. This was broad daylight. What if he didn’t like what he saw?