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"Please." I reach back for his ass.
He groans and drags his fingertips over my chest. Then he's pushing my other strap off my shoulder, pushing my bikini top to my waist, palming my breasts with both hands.
He rubs my nipples with his thumbs. Then his forefinger, his middle finger, his ring finger, even his pinkie.
My sex clenches. My body has missed those hands. His touch is the best thing I've felt in the last two years.
But I need more.
"Please," I breathe. "Ethan… please, I need you."
"Say it again."
"I need you."
He groans with pleasure as he drags one hand down my stomach. His fingers are that same amazing mix of soft skin and rough callouses.
The moment those fingers stroke my clit, I melt. I'm putty. My knees buckle. My muscles go slack.
But he's got me. He slides his free hand around my waist and holds my body against his.
Then his lips are on my neck and his hand is on me. The water makes his touch slippery. It's a different kind of pressure, softer and harder at once.
He starts with long, slow strokes. Every one sends a wave of pleasure through my torso. I hold onto his hips for balance, but it's not enough.
Ethan turns me around. It brings us face to face. There's more in his eyes than desire. I'm not sure I believe that it's possible for this to be a one-time thing.
But I don't want it to be a one-time thing.
I need more of him.
All of him.
He presses his lips to mine. The kiss starts soft then gets harder. His tongue slides into my mouth. One hand goes around my waist and holds me in place. The other slides between my legs to stroke me.
He goes right to the spot that always gets me off.
Two years and he remembers.
We haven't had sex since before Asher-
Ethan groans into my mouth. He pulls my body closer as his touch gets more insistent. I groan back and slide my hands around his neck.
Dammit, this feels so good.
I let go of my last conscious thought. My body takes over. My fingers dig into the hard muscles of his back. My tongue dances with his.
He still tastes like home.
The tension in my core knots. Every stroke of his fingers pulls it tighter and tighter. So tight I have to break free of his kiss to groan.
He drags his lips over my neck. His teeth scrape against my skin.
With his next stroke, I go over the edge. My sex pulses as I come. I can feel the orgasm everywhere. Pleasure spreads all the way to the top of my head and the very tips of my toes.
I should be asking myself what this means. I should be concerned by how much I want my ex to make me come again.
But I'm not.
