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I dab away some of the gloss with my thumb, and
my filthy mind conjures an image. No, don’t go there, horny brain. Don’t you start wondering if this is how he might look after going downtown. If his sheer commitment to kissing is any indication, then the other stuff. Oh lord…
“What are you looking at me like that for?” he says.
Just then, my stomach rolls and gurgles, and the sound is made worse by the echoing inside this cavernous space.
“You’re hungry,” he says. “Lunchtime.”
I am hungry. But not for food. I’m hungry for this man to put his hands on me and drop the gentlemanly act. I want him to be ruthless with me. Pull me on top of him and make me scream. Cause a cave-in. Bring this volcano back to life. Hold me down against the floor and look for buried treasure in my pussy.
God, what’s wrong with you, Sierra?
I nod dumbly.
He kisses me one more time. I’m so hot all over that I hope it’s just a peck—the kiss of a dead fish. But of course, it’s not. It’s a deep, full, thorough, arousing tongue kiss. Oh god. It’s so good. And leaves me wanting so much more. I heard the groan from him; I know this is not enough. So why is he swimming away from me now? Who cares about lunch?
Maybe I’m not a good enough kisser for him. Perhaps he was testing the waters, and he’s not that into me.
I watch him swim to the other side of the underground spring, and I wait for him to hop out of the water first. Brazenly, I watch him. Austin’s round, mountain-climber’s backside and muscular thighs sear into my brain. He’s taking his time like he knows I’m watching.
“You can use my towel,” I tell him. The idea of sharing a towel with a random man would gross me out under normal circumstances. It doesn’t seem to bother me now, not after swapping spit. I hop down from the ledge until I’m submerged once again from the neck down, and I tread water, rubbing my thighs together like a horny teenager. His back is still to me, shaking water off his legs. Watching this, I fight the urge to reach my hand down between my legs. Until I stop fighting. I just go ahead and do it. My hand slides down inside my bikini bottom, and with my eyes trained on him, I do the deed while watching him dress. The way he’s bent over, sliding his shorts back on, I’m in no doubt this floor show is for my benefit.
Seconds later, the pleasure washes over me as I bite down on my bottom lip so hard I’m afraid I might bleed.
Chapter Nine
Austin
The coffee at Mello Toast is the best on any of the islands of The Pearl Crescent. The corporate coffee in the city on Pearl Island can keep their burnt beans. The resort has its good restaurants, but this is where the locals go for brunch.
I sit outside and stare at the waves, thinking about what I did wrong with Sierra yesterday. I shouldn’t have kissed her like that. My feelings got the better of me; I can’t be alone with her like that anymore. It’s wise if we only see each other in public because I can’t be trusted.
It serves me right that she was unusually reserved and quiet all through lunch and for the entire drive back to the hotel.
She was so quiet that I had started to feel guilty for kissing her the way I did. So remorseful that I apologized for being so forward with her. She’d simply pursed her lips, studying me for a moment, and then went up to her room.
I sip my coffee and gaze out onto the waves, considering whether I should try again and be more clear about why I was apologetic.
And then, who should walk into the Mello Toast but her. Sierra.
I set down my coffee, sit back in my chair, and take in the welcome sight of her. She has a strange, avid look in her eye. Her black, embroidered cover-up flaps in the sea breeze, and her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her face is flushed like she’s already been walking the beach and had too much sun this morning.
Sierra looks like she wants to tell me something about as much as I want to tell her something.
I stand up and offer her a seat across from me.
“Hi,” she says. “I think I ought to apologize.”
“I think you need to rethink that,” I reply, prompting her brow to furrow in confusion.
When the server brings her a coffee, she nods sweetly up at her, then grips the mug in both hands and sniffs. Her nostrils flare like a rabbit before she takes an appreciative sip. Every freckle, every twitch, makes me fall deeper and deeper. I want to make coffee for her every morning just to watch her do that thing with her face. I want to sit across our shared kitchen table and just marvel at her.
“Austin, it’s okay if you’re not into me. I shouldn’t have made you feel obligated to kiss me yesterday.”
I down the rest of my coffee and rub my tummy. It was rumbling for some fresh scrambled eggs a minute ago, but right now, I can’t eat a bite until I say what I have to say to Sierra.
“Sweetheart, listen. You might think that the kissing was your idea. But trust me, I’d been thinking about kissing you since the second I saw you.”
