Tryst (Take It Off #8)(22)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I took his obvious preoccupation with Little Debbie to study my surroundings. Now that my arm wasn’t hurting as badly, I could concentrate on his house.

It was minimalistic and simple. The living room and dining room were one open space. It consisted of a tan couch, two club chairs, and a coffee table in the center.

Adjacent from the couch was a large flat-screen hanging on the wall with a small narrow table beneath it. The top of the table had what I assumed were empty boxes of snack cakes.

The coffee table also boasted a few empty boxes of the junk.

I thought he might have a problem.

“So what’s your favorite snack cake?” I asked.

“I don’t discriminate,” he said, lowering the box and picking up his coffee.

“Do you eat anything besides snack cakes?” I wondered out loud.

“Of course.”

He was a man of few words. It seemed the only conversation he knew how to have was an argument.

After a few more silent moments, I sat up. “I should go. I know you probably have things to do.” I really didn’t think he had anything to do, but I didn’t know what else to say.

He stood swiftly and sat down in front of me again. Our bare knees brushed together and a jolt of electricity moved through him and into me. I gasped a little in surprise.

He didn’t acknowledge what I knew he felt. Gavin discarded the cloth and patted the area dry with another towel. “How’s it feel?”

“Better,” I stuttered. The steady rise and fall of his shoulders while he breathed was hypnotizing. And the way he smelled made me want to lean closer. He smelled like the beach—you know, that kind of oil that you use to help you tan? Like coconuts and sunshine.

I watched as Gavin uncapped a tube of hydrocortisone and squeezed some out on his fingers. He laid my arm across his lap, my hand falling just beside his hip.

Dear God, I was inches from his cock.

He took his time rubbing the little bit of cream over the injury. Moisture gathered in my bathing suit bottom and my breasts began to ache with desire.

“Why are you here, Talie?” he asked, no longer rubbing the medicine in, but not releasing my arm.

“Because a jellyfish stung me?”

The side of his lip tilted, and I wanted so badly to lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I meant here, on the island.”

“Oh. Right.”

He began to draw lazy circles over the inside of my elbow with his fingers. He didn’t play fair. How was I supposed to keep up with a conversation when he did things like that?

And why did he affect me this way?

He was maddening, bossy, and he lived off snack cakes for goodness sake.

“Talie?” he said, my name ripping from deep within his throat.

“Oh, um… Vacation.”

“Who takes a vacation alone?”

“Who lives in a beach house alone?” I answered.

“I like my privacy. I’m not a social guy.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding absolutely mystified.

“I’ll go,” I declared.

He nodded.

Neither of us moved. He didn’t release my arm.

It was as if we were both paralyzed in a bubble of attraction. The pull between us was so unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It was physically powerful, chaining us together where we sat. Both of us voiced the intent to break apart, to go our separate ways, but our bodies overruled our brains.

There would be no moving away.

Only closer.

In one fluid movement, Gavin came forward, sweeping an arm around my waist and pulling me to the very edge of the couch. His knees parted and my body fit between them as his lips fastened to mine.

We were Velcro. He was the rough side and I was the soft. The closer he pressed, the more tightly we fused. I swear to you in that moment I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I could only be pummeled by the onslaught of heavy desire that flooded my system like a surging waterway.

Gavin’s fingers delved into the hair at the base of my neck, tangling around the blond strands and pushing my head even closer. Our teeth bumped together and he opened even wider, slipping his tongue inside my mouth, smoothing over the edges of my teeth and stroking the roof of my mouth.

I melted in his embrace. The heat from his skin, the taste of his kiss… intoxicating was an understatement. He was the most potent drug, the kind that just one hit would kill, and I was well on my way toward death. And I didn’t care. In that moment, the way our mouths moved together was so intense I would have gladly given my life for just a few more minutes.

My fingernails dug into the bulging muscles in his biceps, like I was on some kind of carnival ride and needed to hang on for dear life. My lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but breathing would require lifting my head, and that was something I couldn’t stand.

The kiss went on and on. It was moist and hot. Gavin allowed my tongue to explore every place it wandered, and every groan that escaped my throat he captured and added it to his own.

Just when I thought my chest might burst, he pulled away. My lips felt swollen and the air that rushed between us felt cool against my overheated skin. I stared up at him dumbly, completely at a loss for words.

No one had ever kissed me like that.

No one had ever drawn out that kind of response with just a single kiss.

I know he saw shock in my eyes. It reverberated through my bones. I took a deep, unsteady breath and my breasts brushed against his shirtless chest.

“I changed my mind,” he said, his voice made of gravel.

“What?” I asked, breathless and totally confused.

His cobalt eyes fastened on mine. “I don’t want you to go.” The hand still tangled in my hair tightened, as if he expected me to refuse.

Refusing was not an option.

Surrender was my only choice.

All I could manage was a single word.

“Yes.”

12

Talie

His touch was like fire. Tomorrow, I would likely have blisters from the flames his fingers left behind. After my single-word answer, we didn’t speak again. Our lips and hands did all the talking.

His body was smooth like polished granite, and his tropical scent enthralled my senses so the only thing that existed was him. Gavin knew exactly where to touch, exactly the right amount of pressure to apply when he dragged his fingertips down the base of my neck and delved below the neckline of the cover-up I wore.

My breasts tingled with need. The flesh felt swollen as blood and desire filled them, hoping one of Gavin’s magic hands would come their way. My nipples were drawn so taut it was almost painful, and every time I shifted, they brushed against the material of my bathing suit, the friction only whipping me into more of a frenzy.