“Your turn,” she says, and I can hear her reaching for the sunscreen tube and squirting some lotion on her palm. Oh, fuck no.
“You don’t have to.”
She clicks her tongue. “Are you serious? This sun is deadly. Come on.”
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. I give another look around us, as if to make sure we’re not being watched like we’re doing something wrong. Blood rushes through my veins, hot and thick. “Just be quick.”
“You won’t even notice I’m doing it,” she says in a sing-songy voice, like this is no big deal.
Doubt it. At first, she touches the muscles in my back like she’s making some discovery, her fingers tracing the line along my shoulders then down the middle of my back and lower still. “I never asked… where does the name Rhett come from?” she asks. “Was your mom a Gone With the Wind junkie?”
I’m honestly surprised she’s even heard of the movie. But also relieved we’re talking about a safe topic. “Yes. Mom’s name is Melanie. This nonsense started with my grandma, who was obsessed with the book and the movie.”
Even though I can’t see her, in a weird way I hear her smile. “I like it. Suits you.”
“I got used to it,” I say, and shift a bit on the towel to silently tell her I’m done with her sunscreen assistance, but she doesn’t get the hint. Her hands are still on me, and my body is so aware of it, I’m about to internally combust. I close my eyes, but I see flashing dots. There is no running from these reactions.
“How often do you work out?” she asks, straddling my back, her body drooping over mine as she reaches to apply it on my arms.
“Two hours a day,” I hiss out. Her barely covered tits whisper over my flesh. I draw in a breath, and her feminine fragrance blends with the scent of salt water and sand. This is like heaven and hell at the same time.
She whistles. “Wow. Every day?” she asks, her voice too dangerously close to my ear.
“Nice. I do Pilates, but I get away with twice a week. Though after seeing you, damn. I should do it more often.”
“You’re fine,” I say in a grumpy fashion, irritated at how her compliment makes my dick move.
“That’s nice of you to say,” she says in a neutral voice. If she caught my irritation, she’s ignoring it. Besides… Nice? I snort. Nothing about this situation isnice.
It’s overwhelming, intense as fuck, and infuriating.
She continues to apply sunscreen on me, in a nice vigorous motion that feels like a massage. Then, she stops, taps my back, and says, “Okay. Off for a swim. Want to come?”
Oh, god, do I.If she continues to throw words like want and come like that, I might just make the worst mistake of my life—and not regret it. My heart gallops in my chest. Every part of me is dying to say yes. “Why don’t you go first? I’ll catch you later.”
“How do you like your food?”Rhett asks me on the other side of the table.
Tonight, we’re eating steak and salad outside by the pool. The end to a magical day, and I know I should be grateful for his stellar treatment given the way I threw myself at him two nights ago. Why am I still wanting more? Maybe it was the way he looked at me at the beach, or how stiff his body became when I applied sunscreen on him.
I know he wants me, but I can’t make him act on it. It must come from him. And it may never happen. I need to be okay with that.
“Riley?” he calls me again, yanking me from my thoughts.
I stare at him across the table, wearing a white short sleeved shirt and jeans. The simplicity of his clothes barely contains the complexity of his muscly body. His face is slightly red from the sun, which only makes him even sexier. “Yes?”
He tilts his head, like he’s trying to get a better view of me. To look deeper. To discover all my secrets. “Are you okay? You seem sad.”
I swallow. Yes, I’m pining over a dick that I won’t ever have. “Nah, I’m good… just thinking where I go from here.”
“What do you mean?”
I play with my fork. “Well, you know, moving on when I get back to Texas…”