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“But where else were you ever going do that?” Grace asks, laughing. “It’s one for the memory books.”
She’s right. And I willdefinitelybe revisiting this particular moment, but it’s not until we reach our tent that I remember the flaw in this whole ‘self-control/hands-off’ plan.
“You, uh want go change first?” I offer, trying to be chivalrous.
“Oh, no big deal,” she tells me, waving a hand. She pulls the curtain aside, as if meaning for me to follow. “I mean, unless you—”
“No,” I say, quickly. I was trying to make it less weird and somehow made it weirder. “It’s fine.”
The second we’re both in the privacy of the tent, it’s buzzing with pent-up energy. I scoop up my bag, carrying it to one side of the bed. Based on the sounds, Grace moves about as far away from me as she can, diagonally.
Okay. I have self-control. But when I strip my wet shirt off, I’m hoping that Grace peeks over. That’s why I glance over my shoulder—not to look, but to see if she’s looking.
She is, and not even trying to hide it. Her lips are parted, gaze traveling down my torso.
Fuck it. I’m across the tent in two long strides, pulling her warm body against me.
13
GRACE
A split-secondbefore Charlie’s mouth crushes against mine, a tiny gasp escapes my throat. It’s the surprise from his sudden closeness, in the decisive grip of his arm around my waist. But it’s the hot desire zinging through me, making me feel unsteady on my legs. I throw my arms around his Charlie’s neck, kissing him back, hard. All of my senses blank out, except for touch—his tongue meeting mine, my wet dress pressed against his bare, muscled chest.
Oh.
And also,yes.
The kiss deepens, hot and damp and full of delicious tension.Thisis what I’ve been trying to ignore all this time.
This is what I never want to end.
Charlie tears his mouth from mine and begins kissing down my bare neck. I shudder to his touch.
“You wore this dress to torture me,” he mutters against my shoulder.
“No,” I manage to say, breathily. “But itisa bonus.”
Charlie draws me back in for another kiss, walking us a step back toward the bed. We’re still mostly clothed, but, with my bare shoulders and lips warm from his mouth, I already feel properly, deliciously debauched.
“I’ve thought about this,” he groans, stroking his thumb across my lower lip. “Non-stop.”
Extremely me too, but I manage to play it coy. “Oh? Since when?”
“The whole time.” He searches my eyes, and I feel like the floor is knocked out from under me. “But it’s been bad since the yacht wedding. Trying not to go there was… Hard.”
In this case, the word choice feels loaded, and I smirk. I can feel just how hard, pressed against me, and…
Yes, please.
“I’ve wanted you too,” I say breathlessly, clinging onto his damp shirt. “Thinking about you…Needingyou…”
“Okay,” he growls, crowding me back to the bed. “You can’t just tell me that.”
My back hits the mattress, and then he’s braced above me, weight pressing down. I hook a leg around his waist, lost in how good it feels to kiss a man who is very, very good at it. Part of me wants to slow down for a second, to feel in control enough to tease him a little. But I’m lost to the rush, frantic for more.
Charlie slips his hands beneath my dress, and I automatically arch my hips, desperate for him to touch me. But it’s only the brief graze against my thighs as he whisks off underwear—the boring, old ones I thought would prevent temptation.Great tip, Skye,I briefly think, before the feel of Charlie’s mouth against my thighs blots every other thought from my mind. He grips behind my knees, tugs me to the end of the bed, and drops to the floor.
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
