Page 88 of The Hollywood Switch-up

He leaned down, close enough that his lips brushed her jaw. She shivered beneath him. The sand was warm against their skin.

Her breath hitched. Her hips shifted—barely, just a fraction—pressing into him until his vision blurred.

He was on his feet, pulling her up with him. She stumbled into his chest, hands bracing against his bare skin, and he walked her backward until her shoulders hit the rough bark of a leaning palm.

"Still think you were winning?" His mouth hovered over hers.

She answered by pulling him down by the collar.

“Good answer.” he murmured against her mouth.

The kiss was nothing like last night. Last night was slow, deliberate. This was the chase still in their blood, the reckless joy of being caught.

Her back scraped against the palm bark as he pressed into her, gripping her bare hips under the hem. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Dios.

Anyone could come around that rocky outcrop. The danger of it should have stopped him. It didn’t.

“No underwear.” He pulled back just enough to look at her—flushed, panting, sand clinging to her hair. “You knew I’d catch you. And you wanted me to find you like this.”

“I was counting on it.” Her fingers raked up his back, nails biting into his shoulders. “I’ve been wet since you made that bet. Since you looked at me with that smile—the one that makes me want to drop to my knees.”

He groaned and kissed her harder, one hand fisting in her hair while the other slid between her thighs. She was slick and hot against his fingers, and what escaped her when he touched her sent a jolt straight to his cock.

“Carajo.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “All this from a foot race?”

“All this from you.” She rocked against his hand, shameless, chasing her need. “From watching you run after me like nothing else existed. From the way you cheated just to get your hands on me.” Her breath hitched as his fingers found her clit. “I’ve never been more turned on in my life and we need to be fast before someone hears how loud you make me come.”

Morning light caught the flush spreading down her neck. He circled her clit slowly, watching her face—the way her eyes fluttered shut, the way her lips parted on a gasp.

He tipped her chin up until she met his eyes.Those warm eyes, hazy with want, locked on his.

He withdrew his hand. She was still watching him.

“I need my mouth on you.” His voice dropped. “Right here. Where anyone could walk past and hear you come apart on my tongue.”

“Then get on your knees and stop talking about it.”

He laughed and dropped to the sand.

Above him, she was backlit by the sun, hair a wild halo, his shirt slipping off one shoulder. He pushed her thighs apart and the shirt rode up, baring her to the morning air. The sight of her undid him.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. Another higher. She squirmed, fingers threading into his hair and pulling him closer.

“I’ve thought about this,” she breathed. “You on your knees for me. The great Stefan Cruz, kneeling in the sand because I told him to.”

“Get used to it.” He nipped at the soft skin where her thigh met her hip. “I plan to do this as often as you let me.”

He traced her with his tongue, slow and deliberate, and her head fell back against the tree. The taste of her flooded his tongue. He groaned into her, the vibration making her gasp.

He worked her with his tongue—slow circles, then faster, reading every hitch in her breath. When he slid two fingers inside her, curling them against the spot that made her knees buckle, she made a sound that went straight to his cock.

“Right there—god, Stefan, don’t change anything—” She was grinding against his face now, too far gone for self-consciousness. “I’m going to come so hard⁠—”

“Córrete en mi boca, corazón.” He said it against her, the vibration making her gasp. “Come on my tongue like you ran all this way to do.”

Her walls fluttered. He sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked.