Page 35 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

“Because,” Luke said, his hand at her back pulling her impossibly closer, “once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

A delicious shiver ran down Sophie’s spine. “That sounds more like a promise than a problem.”

His eyes darkened further, pupils blown wide with desire. The song ended, transitioning into something faster, but neither of them moved to adjust their pace. They remained locked together, barely swaying now, the tension between them pulled taut as a bowstring.

“Let’s get out of here,” Luke finally growled, the words coming out like they’d been dragged from somewhere deep inside.

Sophie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Luke’s hand tightened around hers, their fingers interlacing as he led her away from the dance floor. They skirted the edge of the celebration, nodding vaguely at people who called greetings, neither of them slowing their determined pace.

They were halfway down the path that led back to the boathouses when Luke abruptly stopped, turning to face her. In the moonlight streaming through the cherry trees, his face was all planes and shadows, devastatingly handsome in a way that made Sophie’s breath catch.

“I need to know this is what you want,” he said, his voice tense with the effort of restraint. “Because if we keep going—”

Sophie didn’t let him finish. She raised up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his, her hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt.

For a heartbeat, Luke went completely still. Then something in him seemed to snap. His arms wrapped around her, lifting her almost off her feet as he deepened the kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding against hers, his stubble a delicious friction against her skin.

Sophie had been kissed plenty of times before but never like this. Never with this consuming hunger that made her feel like she might actually combust. Luke kissed like a man starving, like he was trying to devour her, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pressed her firmly against him.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, Sophie felt dizzy with want. Luke’s forehead rested against hers, his breathing ragged.

“Been wanting to do that since you fell in my lake,” he admitted.

Sophie laughed breathlessly. “Even when I smelled like fish bait?”

“Even then.” He brushed a curl from her face with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their kiss. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Sophie?”

“I’m getting an inkling,” she replied, hyper-aware of the hard evidence of his desire still pressed against her. “Though I might need a more thorough demonstration.”

Luke’s eyes darkened again, his hands tightening on her waist. “Careful what you ask for.”

“I’ve spent my whole life being careful,” she said, surprising herself with the truth of it. “I think I’m ready to be reckless for a change.”

The grin that spread across Luke’s face was pure wickedness. “I can work with that.”

Then his mouth was on hers again, and Sophie surrendered completely to the sensation of falling. Falling into him, into this moment, into whatever this was becoming. For once in her life, she had no plan, no spreadsheet, no carefully considered pros and cons.

Just the night, the lake, and Luke Rhodes’ arms around her, holding her like he never intended to let go.

Fourteen

Luke

Luke was drowning and he didn’t want to surface.

Sophie’s mouth under his was sweet and hot. The small sounds she made when he deepened the kiss drove him half-crazy, each breathy whimper like a match to dry tinder. His hands, used to repairing boats and hauling rope, seemed to have developed a mind of their own. One tangled in her dark curls while the other slid from her waist to the curve of her hip, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled her closer.

He backed her against the trunk of a cherry blossom tree, needing to feel her body flush against his. The contrast of her softness with the rough bark behind her made something primal pulse through him. He’d spent the past few days avoiding this, fighting it, pretending the electric current between them was something he could ignore. Now the dam had broken, and there was no holding back the flood.

“Luke,” she gasped as his mouth left hers to trail along her jaw, down the pale column of her throat. The way she said his name—half plea, half surrender—nearly broke what remained of his self-control.

His hand moved up, hesitating at the curve of her breast. Even with desire clouding his judgment, he waited, eyes meeting hers in silent question.

“Yes,” she whispered, arching slightly into his touch.

The weight of her breast in his palm, even through the fabric of her dress, sent a jolt of need straight through him. He brushed his thumb across the peak, feeling it tighten beneath his touch, and Sophie’s sharp intake of breath was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard on this lake.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, meaning it more than any words he’d ever spoken.