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Lord knows he wanted to play with her.
Up until now, he had refrained with a ruthless self-discipline that even amazed him, all night trying to pretend he hadn’t been stiff as a flagpole under the table while they’d bantered back and forth. Holy God, she’d made him want to fuck her so bad.
It had been a while since Luke had let himself enjoy the company of a woman—without having sex with her. And when he said a while, it had been decades. So yeah, a long while, for sure. But now he realized he’d been missing out on good stuff, too.
Peyton was fun and funny, and sexy, and as the drinks had progressed she’d gotten even more uninhibited and relaxed in his company.
She wasn’t fawning over him, because to her, he was a nobody, and she wasn’t kissing his feet hoping he’d give her a check either.
She made him feel like Luke Preston before he became the Luke Preston, and way, way before the Walking Miracle issue.
As they walked in silence now, he felt young, relaxed, and alive.
But then, he wished he could enjoy the sensation without his cock getting in the way. It kept jumping to full attention at the merest things. Whenever she laughed Luke felt dumbstruck, helplessly drawn to the sound. When she smiled, God, he throbbed down to his balls.
She was incredibly lovely in an old movie star fashion; Audrey Hepburnish, but with a Marilyn Monroe sex-appeal Luke Preston had never dug so fucking bad.
He could only imagine what she must feel like, slowly writhing and moaning beneath him. Shit, he ached to slide inside her.
He’d bet she’d be tight. Slick. Wet.
Damn it, how on earth was he supposed to have some one-on-one time with Luke with Peyton sharing the beach with him?
Relax? His shot-at ass!
He had never been so tortured before.
This woman was not only a walking wet dream, but she smelled incredibly good, and Luke was trying very hard not to think of how damned amazing it was going to feel when he pushed his tortured cock inside of her wet heat.
He hadn’t had a woman in six weeks, since the murder attempt. For several days now, he’d been goofing off with Pepe, his “Toad” and new sidekick; the little guy he’d met at the pool who’d quickly interested Luke in a game of football. But then he’d met this woman and now he could think of nothing other than taking her to Luke Preston’s legendary fucking bed, which was screaming in emptiness.
Stealing a sideways look at her, he noticed she was deep in thought, utterly quiet, too. She had such delicate features, was so sweet and stunning, his wound ached in his chest.
Sighing, he sunk his empty beer bottle into the sand and dropped down beside it, not ready to call it quits tonight. Peyton was too fun, too beautiful, too sexy. And despite the mixed signals…he suspected that she wanted him, and badly.
Luke’s hands were itching to get up and all over her.
But Peyton remained standing, her skirt fluttering in the wind like that sexy black hair he wanted to wrap within his fists and use to hold her head down as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Her cheeks looked flushed, and she kept biting her lower lip in a way that Luke wanted to.
He cocked his head back. “What are you thinking that makes you blush?” he asked, his voice husky even to his ears, already thickened with desire.
She bit her lip and made circles in the sand with the tip of one toe. “Luke. I was thinking…wondering…whether I might have an affair with you.”
Chapter Two
Peyton couldn’t believe she’d just said that.
She held her breath and raised her head in dread to discover that Luke appeared expectant, as if he was waiting for her to elaborate. So she went on. “No strings…just a little fling.”
Deep in thought, he turned his head to the moon, and after a long moment, he spoke, his voice husky as he patted the sand beside him. “Come sit with me.”
The unmistakable sensuality in his voice made goose bumps rise along her flesh and her pussy grip with longing. “I’m not sure…I should probably be going. Maybe this isn’t the best time to decide when I’ve had so many beers.”
“Come on, Peyton. It’s a beautiful night. The moon is up. Sit with me while you keep wondering whether or not you might have an affair with me.”
How to deny him?
He was too sexy. Everything about him was sexy sexy sexy. The way he looked in those linen pants and the linen button-down shirt, the way his hair blew in the wind, the way he smelled…of soap, ocean, and something manly and unique. How could she deny him when she was helplessly drawn to his incredible magnetic force?
