His hand slides lower, inside my suit, and I gasp, like it’s the first time his finger has ever circled my clit.
“You’re always so wet for me,” he says, husky with desire.
I hum against his mouth, tongue swiping his bottom lip. “Takes a talented man to wreck a girl with one kiss.”
“If you keep rocking and moaning like that, I might forget we’re outside.”
“As if that’s ever stopped you…”
He groans, one hand sliding to my waist as he shifts us effortlessly, rolling me beneath him with a slow, practiced ease that steals my breath.
“But never in broad daylight,” he growls, sexy as all hell. “Slide your hips like that again, Bubble Girl, and I’m ripping this bikini off and taking you right here.”
“That a promise or a bluff?” I ask, already moving against him like I want him to prove it, my hands roaming his back, savoring how his muscles shift and tighten beneath my touch.
“Promise,” he grits out, rocking his hard length against me with a slow, claiming grind. “And you’re about to feel every damn inch of it.”
Our mouths collide again, and we’re unraveling, seconds from making the sun blush and slip behind a curtain of clouds.
Clothing shifts beneath desperate hands—his swim trunks pushed low on his hips, my bikini bottom tugged to the side—urgency crashing over us like a rogue tsunami.
His knuckles skim bare skin above my waist, sparking a current that has my hips chasing more. “Cami…”
Until—
Crunch.
Tires on gravel.
We freeze at the sound, breaths still tangled, Millie and crew, back from their day at the Farmer’s Market.
“And…the Trouble Triplets have returned,” Knox mutters, dropping his head to my shoulder with a groan. “We were so close.”
I can’t help the laughter bubbling up because, just like that, our moment bursts, heat giving way to hilarity. Lips still tingling. Body still buzzing. A guiltyyou caught uslook probably pinned to our faces.
Millie waves from the top of the porch, sunhat askew, paper bags loaded like she raided a gourmet bunker. “We bought wine,cheese, steaks, and corn on the cob for the grill,” she calls, beaming. “So you summer lovers should round up those kittens and get over here. We’re having a barbecue!”
Knox groans, lips gently grazing my neck. “Did she just call us summer lovers?”
“Mmm-hm,” I say, biting back a grin, fingers curled in his hair.
Margo shields her eyes and squints toward us. “Millie’s got enough food in those bags to feed the entire homeowners’ association.”
Elena snorts. “And once we open that rosé and put on some tunes, I’m not responsible for my dance moves.”
I reach for my sundress. “We’d better head over.”
“Why don’t you go first?” Knox suggests, sitting upright on the sand now, adjusting himself under a towel like a man personally victimized by their timing. “I need a minute to, uh…compose myself.”
I arch a brow, not even trying to hide my amusement. “Poor thing.”
“Better come inside before the sun burns somethingimportant,” Elena teases, hands cupped around her mouth.
“Or before the seagulls start filming,” Margo adds. “You know they gossip.”
Knox squints toward the porch, then sighs like he’s questioning every decision that led him here. “Why are we still fraternizing with the locals?”
I chuckle, tugging my sundress over my hips. “Because they’re givingGolden Girlsenergy, and we’re their lucky audience.”
