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This was Daniel. This was real. This was what she’d been waiting for.
“Now,” she said, “we make love.”
Chapter 10
Daniel stared at Amanda’s wet hair, her clingy blouse and her loose chinos.
He’d pictured this moment, pictured it a million times. But there was always a bed, satin sheets, champagne. “Here?”
“Yeah.” She laughed, kicking out her legs. “Right here.”
“You’ll get cold.”
“I don’t care.”
He glanced at the yachts moored in the bay. “Somebody might see us.”
“They’d need a telephoto lens.”
“Yeah.” As if that had ever been a deterrent.
“Afraid you’ll end up on the cover of your own magazine?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Amanda.”
“Kiss me, Daniel.”
He gazed at her moist mouth. It was tempting. Boy, was it tempting. “You’ll get sand stuck to your butt.”
“My butt will survive.”
He wanted this to be memorable. He wanted this to be perfect. He wanted this to be a moment she’d cherish. “Can we at least go inside?”
She leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his mouth. “Not a chance.”
Her lips were cool and damp and sexy as hell.
“Amanda,” he groaned in protest.
“Here and now, wet and wild, cold and sandy, risking yachting voyeurs.” She kissed him again, longer this time, deeper, their lips warming to each other.
“I don’t remember you being like this,” he mumbled before initiating the next kiss.
“You weren’t paying close enough attention.” She plucked at the buttons of his shirt.
Losing track of the argument, he returned the favor, separating the fabric of her blouse and sliding his hand beneath it. “Oh, yes, I was,” he breathed, inhaling deeply. “I remember every square inch of your skin.”
“Every single one?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to see them again?”
He spared one more worried glance at the boats bobbing just offshore. It was getting pretty dark. If he spread his coat behind the skirt of the tablecloth, her modesty would be well protected.
Curtis wouldn’t let any of the staff come back down unless Daniel called for them.
“Yes,” he answered, making the only possible decision. “Oh, yes.”
Amanda pulled back, shifting so that she straddled his lap. Then she gave him a saucy, mischievous grin and slowly peeled away the wet fabric of her blouse, baring her breasts.
Lightning flashed, and her alabaster skin glowed slick in the white light.
His world stilled. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed one breast, then the other, tasting her delicate skin, testing the texture with his tongue, drawing out the moment, second after exquisite second. Her skin was as sweet as he remembered. He used to crave her taste, revel in her scent, count the minutes until he could hold her and become one with her.
The raindrops clattered, and the waves roared onto the shore. The thunder rumbled the very earth beneath them, but he blanked out everything but the gorgeous woman in his arms. Her skin was slick and wet, and impossibly smooth.
Her murmurs of encouragement stoked his desire.
He couldn’t stop holding her, but he had to make love to her. He finally stood, lifting her with him and holding her close. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she burrowed her face in his neck, lips suckling, tongue laving his sensitive skin.
He lowered her feet to the sand, kissing her deeply as he flicked his coat out on the wet beach.
She stepped back, peeling away the rest of her wet clothes, and the lightning flashes gave him tantalizing glimpses of her naked body—her rounded breasts, the tight pink nipples, her smooth stomach and the dark triangle that led between her legs.
Every muscle in his body grew taut, and he reached out a trembling hand to cup her hip.
It was like the Boca Royce pool, only better than the pool. Her curves were wet and smooth and ripe, but this time he could touch her. He could hold her. He could make the world melt away between them.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, slowly drawing her toward him. His arms wrapped around her naked body, and raw lust overtook his system. There was something incredibly erotic about a naked woman on a dark, windswept beach. For a split second he wondered why they’d never done this before.
Then, impatient, he laid her back on the blanket of his coat, shucking his clothes, following her down, putting them out of the wind, behind the protection of the tablecloth.
She smiled at his nakedness, her gaze caressing his entire body. Then she reached for him, twining her fingers in his damp hair, cupping his face and urging him down for a long, searing kiss.
The raindrops practically sizzled against his heated skin. She was the sexiest, most amazing woman alive, and it was all he could do to keep from taking her in the next five seconds.
He gulped in mouthfuls of salt air and steeled himself against the onslaught of desire.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
A steel band tightened around his chest, and he thought it might explode. He cupped her face, kissing her sweet lips, absorbing her taste, reveling in her feel. “Oh, Amanda, this is so…”
“Real?”
He nodded.
Her hair was tangled with wet sand, her makeup was smeared in a rainbow, and droplets of water trickled over her cheeks. But he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Sensation washed over him with the beat of the waves. “I remember.”
“Me, too. I remember you were wonderful.”
“I remember you were beautiful.”
Her hands tightened on his upper arms. “I want you. Right now.”
He shook his head. “Not yet.” There was nothing he wanted more. And nothing would stop him, nothing could possibly come between them.
But he had to make this last. He had to imprint her on his brain all over again.
There’d be many long, lonely nights ahead, and he wanted hot memories to see him through.
He was selfish, he knew. But he couldn’t help himself. He cupped her breast, feeling the press of her taut nipple against his palm.
She moaned.
“You like?” he asked.
She nodded her head.
He brushed a thumb across the crest, and her fingertips convulsed against him.
Her response was fuel to his fire, and he let his hands and lips roam free, changing her breathing to gasps and pants, reveling in his ability to please her.
He trailed his fingers up her thigh, finding the core of her heat, groaning aloud as he pressed into her softness. She welcomed him with a flex of her hips, and her mocha eyes went wide.
“Oh, Daniel.”
“I know.” He kissed her deeply. “I know. Just go with it.”
She responded, running her fingers over his chest, finding his flat nipples, his navel, his abdomen, and sending shock waves straight through his body.
Then her cool, small hands roamed farther, grasping him, stroking him, urging him.
He shifted above her.
“Now,” she asked again, tightening her grip.
His only response was a guttural groan. He pushed her thighs apart, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyes as he pressed inside her inch by careful inch.
She gasped his name.
He almost shouted “I love you.” But that was a different time, a different place.
“Amanda,” he gasped instead, surging into a rhythm as her hips rocked forward and her legs locked around his waist.
He cupped her breast, and she gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Her head dropped back and she scrunched her eyes shut.
The thunder rumbled and the waves crashed their furor. There could have been an armada of paparazzi moored in the bay and he couldn’t have cared less. She was his. After all these years, she was his once again.
Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, and her breathing became ragged. He could feel her body arching against him, straining, struggling.
He waited, waited, waited.
“Daniel!” she cried, and he let himself go.
The lightning melted the sky and the earth shook with the force of his release.
When it was over, they lay gasping in each other’s arms. Daniel supported himself on his elbows, using his body heat to keep her warm.
He kissed her forehead and lingered there, because he simply couldn’t resist. He knew they should get dressed and go up to the house to dry off, but he didn’t have it in him to let her out of his arms.
She smiled, her eyes still closed. “I just love spontaneity.”
His heart contracted on the word love. But that wasn’t what she meant. He brushed a lock of gritty hair from her check. “What makes you think I didn’t plan this?”
Her eyes popped open. “You did not.”
“Sure, I did.”
“Daniel, this is not a plan you would make.”
He nodded. “What’s more, you planned it, too.”
“Dream on.”
“Counselor, are you trying to tell me you didn’t plan to make love with me tonight?”
“I didn’t know when, and I didn’t know how.”
He shifted his weight and leaned on one elbow. “That’s still a plan.”
She wiggled as cool air blew between their bodies and the slowing rain trickled over their hot skin. “No, that’s an idea.”
“Semantics.”
“Philosophy.”
He chuckled. “Admit it, your philosophy’s not that much different than mine.”
