“It sure sounds like it.”
“I’m not, DK. But I know Diablo’s stance on this. You’ve worked with him for a week. I’ve been fighting him for almost four years.”
“I don’t discount that you know him better than I do. But let me be clear, I can’t be used or coerced. That’s not who I am. If a candidate and I are fundamentally opposed, I walk. I won’t push anything I don’t believe in. Even if we come at it differently,Luna, I support growth that protects the waterfront and doesn’t crush local businesses.”
“But the difference is what matters,” I insist, fighting myself more than him.
He sees through it. Of course he does. He reads people. And he knows me. Even in that short time we spent together, he gets who I am.
“This isn’t really a policy debate.” His eyes lock on mine. “This is you trying to give yourself permission to deny what’s between us. An excuse to stay away.”
“Shouldn’t I?” My voice raises in frustration.
“That’s your call. What I can tell you is that I have a job to do, and I take that commitment seriously. But…” He pauses, his gaze intent. “I’d be lying if I said my heart was fully in it. Two things can be true. I can work for Diablo… and still want you to succeed.”
“How’s that even possible?”
“One is just the job,” he says, moving closer. “The other is… you.”
My breath catches in my throat. The air is densely humid, my need relentless. Every boundary I built fractures under the weight of this moment.
Practical and careful be damned. I’m not just a candidate. I’m a woman with needs. With desires. With a body that remembers him.
I could list all the reasons why this is crazy. Or…
My phone hits the sand. Flip-flops gone a second later as my hands tangle in his damp hair.
I kiss him—hard, hungry, unstoppable.
The point of no return.
He fists the hem of my cover, tugging it up to cup my ass and draw me flush against him. Every hard inch beneath his trunks presses into me, and I grind my hips, aching for that friction.
Desperate moans pour out of me. Our kiss spins wilder. His mouth is as demanding as it was that night. Just as skilled. Dominance that doesn’t diminish. He meets me. Matches me.
I’m vaguely aware of the rippling water, then him murmuring my name.
“Luna.” His mouth brushes mine between words. “I want you so bad. But the sounds you’re making for me belong in private.” His forehead presses to mine. “I would never let you be embarrassed by anything we do together.”
Even now—in this heated moment—he’s thinking about my dignity. About us.
One witness. One photo. One headline.
Candidate Sleeping With The Opposition.
My campaign would be scorched. His credibility shredded.
DK smooths down my cover-up. His hands are steady, even as his breathing isn’t.
He pulls his shirt on and slips his glasses back into position. Our appearance is restored, but the hunger that hadn’t been satisfied still burns.
“I’m not sorry I kissed you,” he says. “Just that I did it here.”
“We both did.” I lick my lips, tasting him. “I’m responsible for my own actions.”
He picks up my flip-flops and phone, dusting off the sand before handing them to me. His eyes search mine. “Are you regretting it?”
“No.” My answer is immediate. “But it can’t happen like that again.”
