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I quickly flip off my sandals, carrying them in my hand as I curl my toes into the warm sand. I turn around to make sure that the guys are coming and see that they're just staring at me with similar grins. And I'm pretty sure they have stars in their eyes.
Men are weird, I think as I blush scarlet from their stares.
"There are lounge chairs we can rent over there," I squeak, pointing to rows of luxurious chairs with umbrellas in front of a bar-type café right on the beach.
The guys thankfully come out of whatever trance they just suffered from, and we make our way over to the chairs, paying the attendant for towels and four chairs.
Quaid rips his shirt off, and I start literally panting like a dog in heat.
It's embarrassing, but I can't control myself. His abs are perfect, like they've been etched by Michelangelo, although I doubt even he could have captured the perfection I'm seeing right now.
Logan strips next, doing it slow for my viewing pleasure evidently. His abs aren't quite as deep, but they are still lickable. His arms, on the other hand, are something to behold. The licking would definitely continue on them.
Carter's next, although he's acting like he could care less that I'm watching. He snatches his shirt off quickly, and the effect of the three of them together makes me melt. I'm not sure where Carter finds the time to work out in his travels around the world, but his body is something to behold. All that golden muscle is sending tingles to my lady bits. He's leaner than the other two, more like a swimmer's body. And I. Am. Here. For. It.
"Down girl," says Quaid unhelpfully, and I gulp. I'm going to overheat if I don't get to the water soon.
Without letting myself think enough to be self-conscious, I strip off my cover-up and start to run towards the sea. I'm relieved that I'm only slightly dizzy as I go. I'm just about to reach the water when I'm scooped up in Quaid's arms, his football speed coming in handy. He throws us both into an incoming wave, and I'm a sputtering mess when we emerge. The water is freaking freezing. The waves settle for a moment, and then it's just Quaid and I staring at each other.
"You saved me," he says hoarsely, his green eyes bearing into me.
"I saved you?" I ask, not understanding.
"If you hadn't sent that letter, I don't know what I would have done."
Before I can ask him anything else, Logan reaches us. He pulls me away from Quaid right as a wave tumbles over us.
"Okay, I think I've cooled down enough," I gasp, spitting out a mouth of saltwater.
"Five more minutes?" Logan begs, and I laugh at the fact that he sounds like a little boy.
"Okay, baby," I sass at him. For some reason, Logan blushes at my comment.
"Note to self, Logan likes to be called baby," Quaid teases, and Logan's blush deepens.
Holy crap!
He really does like to be called baby.
I erupt in laughter, but it's a nervous, turned-on kind of laughter, because I would have no problem calling Logan "baby" if given the chance. I look over and see Carter lounging on one of our chairs. He has sunglasses on, so I can't see his eyes, but I would say for certain that he's watching us. Quaid sees where I'm looking and smacks my ass.
"Go talk to the loner if you must, princess," he comments, and I stick my tongue out at him before venturing back towards the beach.
Apparently, I've reverted to being a teenager again.
"Hi," I comment lamely as I stand in front of Carter's beach chair, shivering slightly from the breeze playing off my soaking wet body.
The bastard pushes his sunglasses up and then just takes his fill of my body. I'm prepared for disgust, maybe rejection, but all I see is hunger.
I plop myself down into the seat next to him and cover myself with a towel before I do something crazy like jump him. He mercifully slides his sunglasses back down.
A waiter brings me a piña colada, and I sip it slowly as we sit there in silence. Carter's fussing around on his phone, while I'm watching the guys jump around in the waves. They both rented boogie boards, and I'm having fun watching them toss themselves at the mercy of the waves. The wipeouts are epic.
"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" I blurt out, watching Carter's expression out of the corner of my eye.
"You want to talk about this now?" he responds immediately.
The way he says it is so bland that I irrationally want to rip his sunglasses off and shake him just to get a reaction. How can I constantly feel on the edge of falling apart, and he doesn't even act affected at all?
