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He gazed up at her. The shy smile was gone, but what replaced it was no less potent. "Yes, you did," he murmured.
She nodded, and lifted an eyebrow.
"Well, then," he played with Isabel's trunk and slanted a look up at her, the expression of a mischievous boy. "If it pleases you, I'd very much like it if you joined us today. "
"It pleases me," she said, and let it be at that.
Chapter 11
While she cleaned up and changed, Marcus put together a packed lunch. Josh left them to go to his home and get the two men a change of clothes, which she discovered meant a pair of clean cut-off shorts and an extra shirt in case the day turned colder.
Gauging the day and where they might go, she changed into a sapphire blue bikini and a pair of shorts.
She had expected to be quite alone on the island, and so the bikini allowed for maximum tanning area.
She didn't care to bake bronze like some women did. She had no desire to resemble a Shar-pei pug by age forty. However, she did like to maintain a light golden coloring. The bikini top was a shelf bra style that raised her breasts up and together with padding beneath and on the sides. Besides displaying the generous rounded tops of her breasts and giving great play to their movement, the stretch of the garment molded over the jut of her nipples. The bikini's blue material had a sheen caused from sparkling threads in the weave, and was sheer enough that if a man tried to focus past the subdued glitter, he could see the dusky shadow of the aureoles. She expected at least one man would be trying.
Lauren brushed back her hair into a twisted chignon that exposed her delicate neck and would keep her cool. Right. Like that was possible with Josh around.
She put in a pair of silver hoops, and allowed herself the vanity of pale pink lipstick. She looked delicate; something a man would ache to touch. If she let him. Her lips curved. Therein lay the fun, seeing how long her mastery could hold out, how he would connive to get around it.
Playfulness mingled with healthy lust had never been part of her life with Jonathan. Was she rewriting history to help her heal? She frowned. Maybe, but there was more to it. Josh made it more.
Good God, she was beating this to death. She adjusted the strap to give her breasts an extra lift, turned from side to side to admire how the suit showcased them, and then headed up the hallway. Her ankle was feeling better, enough that she could give her hips a slight swing to offset the distraction of the limp.
Marcus lounged on the couch with a breakfast Bloody Mary. Josh sat restlessly on the counter, his bare feet just above the floor. His gray eyes ran over her soft pink lips, the exposed column of her throat, and down to her breasts. She managed to control a blush, just barely, as she felt the nipples peak against the material, a shiver of reaction that ran across the exposed tops of her breasts, down to the lower extremities beneath the shorts. His gaze seemed to follow her reaction, all the way down the lean muscles of her long thighs, to her toes, curling inside loose canvas sneakers with no laces. His eyes alighted on the ace bandage she had rewrapped.
His expression shifted from blatant male appreciation to a protective evaluation of her self-nursing. It caused an emotional tug on what lay beneath her breast, and that mental twinge plucked at the physical.
"So, I'm yours, gentlemen," she managed, looking between them. "Where do we go first?"
Josh slid off the counter and came toward her as Marcus gave a mysterious grin and slipped out the back door, Bloody Mary still in hand.
Lauren's gaze shifted to make her own thorough appraisal as Josh approached. She appreciated to the point of an audible purr the bare chest, the way the shorts cradled his half erect cock, the way the waistband of his cut off shorts slid along his deltoids, much the way she might like to slide her hands over them. She tilted her head back as he got to her, and gave him a raised brow and slight smile.
"You wore that swimsuit to torture me," he accused.
"Did I?" she arched her brow higher, considering, then nodded. "Maybe I did. Maybe I want you to be hard for me. Are you hard for me, Josh?" She kept her eyes on his, but as he leaned forward, she leaned back.
"That wasn't an answer, Josh," she reproved gently. "Put your hand on your cock, over your jeans, and show me how hard you are. "
"Lauren," he said, a flush creeping up his neck.
She took another step back. "Do I hold the cards or not, Josh?" she asked. "Show me," she murmured.
"I want to know how hard looking at my breasts makes you. "
He swallowed and then, with a quick look toward the door, lowered his hand and cupped himself.
Lauren followed the line of sight and smiled at the outline of his bulging groin cradled in his hand. The discomfort of it crept higher up his neck. She stepped closer to him, marveling at how much taller he was than she, how much more physically powerful.
She put her one hand behind his neck and her other hand over his on the source of his discomfort, keeping it there as she raised up on her toes. She pressed her breasts into his chest, shifting slightly to ensure the stiffened nipples would drag over his skin, and kissed him, a light brushing of lips, a brief touch of her tongue to his teeth. His other hand rose to her hip and held there, an anchor against the need that quivered through his muscles and communicated how much he ached to use that power advantage to crush her to him. But he didn't.
"I'm glad you wanted me to be with you today," she said, needing to give something to him. She needed to let him know she wanted him, too, to keep his discontent based in banked lust and not the brooding unhappiness that seemed to be waiting, simmering behind his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. "Show me your island. "
He raised his hand, his fingers twitching once as they passed the side of her breast, but he kept the movement going until he rested his knuckles along her cheekbone, a feather of contact. She tilted her head toward the touch, then caught her breath as he scooped her up, taking her off her feet.
"You might get tired, transporting me this way," she teased, proud that her voice cracked only on the first note before she regained her composure. "I'm really fine to walk, just not fast. "
