Secrets on the Sand (Page 23)

Secrets on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #1)(23)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

“I know I’m safe,” she admitted. He’d never lay a hand on her if she didn’t want him to. The problem was…look at him. That was the problem. His hair was a little messy from the wind outside, his collar open, his sleeves rolled up to expose strong forearms.

He sat on the bed, the flouncy comforter puffing up around his legs. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I bet the tub’s huge.”

She smiled. “Safe bet, but no.”

He fell back and spread his arms across the bed. “I’ll fit on that settee.”

“I doubt that.”

He patted a pillow as if inviting her. “There’s a chaise on the balcony. I don’t mind rain.”

“Saying one thing, doing another.” Laughing softly, she took a few tentative steps closer, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of looking at him spread out on the bed. His hair dark against the shades of cream and ivory, his arms open as if she could…climb on. His eyes closed, and she ventured closer, quietly inhaling the clean scent of him.

“Is that a yes?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

But she crept one step closer, careful not to touch him. His eyes stayed firmly shut, and his chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths.  If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was asleep, and that gave her the confidence to get so close she could see his eyelashes brush against his cheek and the shadow of his whiskers. She let her gaze drift lower, counting a few stray hairs that peeked from the top button of the shirt pulled over well-developed pecs.

He still didn’t move, so she kept looking, at his narrow waist and hips, and the rise…oh.

He snagged her hand so fast she gasped as he yanked her onto the bed next to him with a slow, easy laugh, curling his whole body around her. “You’re staring at me, Mandy Mitchell.”

She tried to deny it, but that came out as a soft catch of her throat at the pressure of his body next to hers. The sweet, sweet pressure.

“I guess you owe me some staring.” His voice was gruff. “I stared at you enough.”

“In high school?”

“Tonight.” He eased her even closer, lining up their bodies on the bed. It felt so natural and right. But it wasn’t, and she couldn’t forget that. “Didn’t you feel it?”

“Mmmm.” She closed her eyes and nodded, ignoring the warning bells to enjoy the solid man next to her. “I did.”

“And you know what I was thinking?” With one finger, he traced her profile, brushing lightly over and over across her lower lip.

“About that contract you signed?” She tipped her head to the side to catch his smile. He was so close, she could see the different shades of blue in his eyes, the silver rims, the dark pupils. Eyes that held hers, then searched her face as if he were looking for the perfect place to…

“Yep,” he whispered. “And all the ways I can get around the terms of our deal.”

She didn’t breathe, slowly realizing that her hands were locked on to his upper arms, the rock-hard muscle pressing into her palms. His leg rested over her thighs, and that rise she’d noticed?

Rising against her hip.

Everything in her—every single female cell in her body—ached for him. She wanted to turn, to press, to feel his hard maleness right where she wanted it. “You can’t…” Her voice was barely a breath.

He pressed his lips against her temple. “I can.” And he…was.

“But you can’t…”

He feathered kisses down her cheek, making his way to her mouth. “There’s nothing in that contract about…” He grazed his tongue over her lower lip, making everything tight and hot and painfully aware of every inch of his body hardening against her. “Kissing.”

“But I can’t…”

“You don’t have to do a thing, Mandy.” His fingertips brushed along her jaw and chin, the touch so gentle it could have been air. Unable to stop herself, she felt her back bow, her face lift, her throat exposed to his touch. He ran his thumb over the skin, circling the dip between her collarbones, trailing a hot line lower and lower.

“I have to breathe. And think. And stay sane.” She turned her face to him. “All of which I am right now forgetting how to do.”

His hand flattened over her breastbone, a strong, huge, masculine hand with enough pressure to make her want to beg for him to…keep going. He leaned over her, his mouth barely an inch from hers.

“You’re breathing.” He kissed her gently. “What did you think of that?”

“Nice.”

“See? You’re thinking. What was the last thing you said you forgot? Oh, sanity.” He lowered his head and nestled under her throat, sucking softly at her skin. His hand dragged down over the silk of her dress as his erection grew mighty against her. “Sanity is overrated.”

She wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny. Nothing was real. Just the touch of his hand and the heat of his body and the taste of his lips. “Zeke…”

He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes dark with arousal. “You want to break the contract?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her head, biting her mouth closed to keep the “yes” from popping out.

He slowly moved his hand, her breast under his palm now, shooting sparks between her legs and making her want to scream. Instead, she squeezed his biceps with all the strength she had, and he slowly eased himself further on top of her. “Zeke.”

“What do you want, Mandy?” He pressed harder, making everything hot and dizzy and so, so needy.

This. She wanted this. And, oh, that. And…oh, that gentle kiss. His mouth was like warm water, his hands sure but kind, his legs wrapping around her…he rocked into her, the unforgiving might of his erection shocking her.

“It’s been so…long.” She rose and fell against him, completely unable to stop the waves. “But I’m….” How could she even say the word?

He rose an inch. “Please don’t be scared of me, Mandy.”

She wasn’t, but she was scared of this. Of how close this was getting to something she’d absolutely sworn she’d never do. His serious tone made her open her eyes and look right into his. She should tell him the truth. She should tell him what she’d had to fight and how ugly this beautiful act had become for her.

But that would ruin everything.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said softly. “Just men like you.”