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I reach for her again and flatten her against me, wrapping her in my arms. “Shh, you’re going to wake everyone up,” I whisper.
“Guess you’re gonna have to do something to hush me up,” she slurs.
Say no more.
I crash my mouth against hers in a kiss with tongues and teeth, sighs, and groans. She tastes like fruity beer and smells like pure golden sunshine. Caroline’s soft skin warms me everywhere as my body thrums with need. My cock throbs, aches for her touch. Her soft hands explore my throat, my shoulders, my chest. Her full lips kiss me back with earnest caresses while her sweet tongue plays with mine. When she angles her face to take my bottom lip in her mouth, her teeth nip and scrape, conjuring scenarios in my mind that are not meant for the public eye. Even this late, we could be seen.
I want to tear mindlessly at the lacy cups that hold up her breasts, letting me taste her sensitive flesh, teasing out her nipples to stiff peaks. I find myself wondering what she looks like utterly naked, and before I know it, my hand drags down her back, over her soft middle, and down to her plump ass.
I get a whole handful and squeeze firmly, causing her to bite down on my lip, just enough to make my cock grow and beg for more, straining against my sodden boxer briefs.
Caroline notices the twitch. She gasps against my mouth and hooks one leg around my thigh, forcing our bodies closer. She rolls her pelvis against me, creating friction that can only lead to one thing.
Wait, what am I doing? We can’t take this any further. Not when we’ve both been drinking so much. Why did I even suggest swimming in the first place? Because I like her, she’s leaving Paradise Lane in a few days, and I want to do all the things with her right away. And also, because I’m toasted.
It takes all the strength within me to put some distance between us.
“Caroline, wait.”
“What is it?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re drunk.”
Her hand runs over my chest, and I suck my breath through my teeth.
“So are you,” she purrs.
“Exactly why we need to stop.”
Her shoulders sag a little, and she sighs. “Fine.”
“We should get out of the water and go to bed.”
Her disappointed whine is going to kill me.
But I do not want to ruin what could be the best thing to ever come my way.
What if we carry on this way, and she still hates my guts in the morning? What if this is a real thing, and we wake up regretting that we didn’t go slower?
“We should. I just…I’m not ready for this night to end. I’m having fun with you,” she says.
I’m a grown-ass man and not a child, so why do I feel like a 16-year-old boy falling in love for the first time?
Get a hold on your senses, Cash.
“I’m not ready, either,” I say, combing through her wet locks.
She lifts one adorable shoulder. “We could go to my cabin and cuddle for a minute and just talk.”
That sounds like heaven, but can I do that? Can I just cuddle with her?
Can I say no?
I’ll be erect all night long, but who in their right mind says no to a cuddle with this woman? She might be my nemesis, but I’ll jump off a bridge if she asks.
