Things between us had been so good lately. Day by day, we’d become more comfortable with each other…in the biblical sense. I always wanted more of him.
Even now, despite my nerves, I wanted him.
God, he was gorgeous. The breeze ruffling his hair just so, the fading sunset emphasizing the chiseled planes of his face, the slope of his broad shoulders. I let out a soft little sigh.
“We should head back. Dinner’s being served in a bit,” he said. “You hungry?”
I smiled. I was, but not for dinner.
In fact, the last thing I wanted right now was to sit across the table from my soon-to-be in-laws so I could feel the weight of their overwhelming disappointment at my presence.
They had been a bit more friendly as of late, and of course they weren’t overtly trying to end the engagement (at least, not that I was aware of), but his mother was still very not-thrilled that the wedding was happening. I knew the second I stepped inside the Malone Manse, I’d feel even more out of place—not just with his family, but in the face of their overwhelming wealth.
“I just need another minute,” I said. “I’ll be right in. Promise.”
I expected Ford to leave me and head inside. Instead, he took my hand in his.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.
We headed down to the sand, the stretch of beach completely deserted. The benefit of owning a huge section of land on Martha’s Vineyard was that you never had to worry about anybody crowding your private beach.
The Malone property took up most of the shoreline within view. They had a dock further down the beach and luxurious private cabanas and lounge chairs set up at various spots. There was even a little bar near the dock, though it was quiet and unstaffed at the moment.
The luxury all around made me a bit speechless.
But Ford’s presence helped. Feeling his hand wrapped around mine did a lot to calm me.
“It’s incredible here,” I said.
“Yeah,” Ford said. “It’s not too shabby.”
I gave him a gentle sock in the arm. It was moments like these that made me feel like something more was happening between us. It was getting harder and harder to ignore.
I shivered again, and this time Ford stopped and turned toward me. “Let’s go back.”
“Not yet. I’m okay,” I said.
Ford lifted an eyebrow. “I could warm you up.”
His voice had gone low and husky. I knew what that tone meant.
“You think so?” I asked, playing innocent.
“I guarantee it,” he said, grabbing my hips and pulling me against him. I loved it when he was a little rough. And I loved that he was already hard and ready for me.
“Hmm…maybe I am getting warm,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He bent his head down to kiss me, his tongue thrusting hard and deep into my mouth—a preview of what he was capable of giving me. I kissed him back, moaning my pleasure.
“How about now?” he asked, his hands going lower until they found the hem of my dress.
“A little warmer,” I said coyly.
“Just a little?” he asked, biting the side of my neck, making me gasp.
His hands moved up until his fingers found the crotch of my panties, already soaking wet.
“Look at that,” he said, sucking in a breath. “I think you’re more than warm now.”
