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“Time to go.”
“No,” I whisper, shivering more from his heat than the cold water. “Stay. With me. Right here in this ocean.”
“You nearly drowned.” He turns toward the shore with me still wrapped around him.
“But I didn’t, and now I have Survivor’s Euphoria. I’m high on life and I want to share it with you.” I trace the flat seam of his mouth with my finger. “You used to smile more, Edier Grayson. There was still sadness, like in your drawings, but there was hope too.”
“People don’t tend to smile much in my line of business,” he says grimly.
“Stop walking.”
“No.”
“Stop walking, or I’ll kiss you.”
His eyes swivel my way again, and then narrow. “You don’t know how to kiss a man.”
“Then teach me.”
“For God’s sake, Ella. You’re seventeen, which is underage in numerous states in this country, not to mention if I cross this line any further your father will be ramming a shotgun so far up my ass I’ll be choking on bullets for the rest of my short life.”
“But not this one.”
“What?”
“The age of consent is seventeen in the State of New York, and I’m not asking you to have sex with me Edier. I’m asking you to kiss me.”
“No,” he grits out, but I can tell he wants to.
“Then you leave me no choice…” Holding his gaze, I let go of his neck, and lean back in his arms until my head is skimming the surface of the water, and I’m baring my naked breasts to him.
He lets me go with protest, his large palms sliding up my spine to support my back, making me feel like nothing bad could ever happen to me again.
Far off in the distance, a church bell starts chiming, and as I lay there, with a man who’s barely holding onto his self-control, I count off each peel in turn.
I know he’s counting them too. When they strike twelve, I’ll be eighteen, legal, and his for the taking. Not even my father’s wrath can reach us out here.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
It feels like we’re standing on the edge of a precipice that’s already crumbling.
Nine.
Ten.
His palms move up to my shoulder blades as he dips his head. I can feel his hot breath on my stomach. His wet hair is teasing my skin. The tension is unbearable, coiling red and wicked at the place where our bodies are touching so intimately.
Eleven.
That’s when I realize I’ve always wanted him. I just didn’t know it wasevery part of himuntil now.
Twelve.
When the final bell tolls, it happens so fast. One second, I’m lying in the water bracing myself, and the next I’m flying through the air, our mouths colliding in a brutal confusion of lips and sparks.
