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“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged as he picked up the second half of his sandwich. “It seemed difficult for you to even let me help with lunch.”
“Well, that’s just because you didn’t know what you were doing.”
He purposefully looked around the table at the group engrossed in their own conversation, then back at her. “They’re an educated bunch. I think they can figure out how to clean up.”
She sighed and sat back in her chair. “My daughter tells me I need to delegate more, and I know she’s right.” With a weak smile, she continued, “I’m a work in progress. Thank you for reminding me.”
“Oh, I have my own selfish reasons for that, but you’re welcome.”
“You do? Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I’m itching to see you in a bathing suit.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He was about to take a bite of his sandwich but paused to lean closer and add quietly, “So I can scope out where I’m going to nibble on you first.”
“If you need help, I can give you some ideas.”
He sputtered but managed not to choke when he swallowed.
“Are you trying to kill me, woman?”
Dakota felt the grin creep across her face as she speared her salad with her fork.
“Of course not. But just to be on the safe side—how’s your heart?”
****
Aiden
He didn’t know what to make of the little hippy dynamo. That didn’t happen very often—he normally figured people out pretty fast and dismissed them just as quickly. But he’d known since the day they met in the parking lot at World’s End there was something special about her—not to mention, she was sexy as fuck.
He’d had a semi since he recognized her when she stepped onto the patio.
Now she was standing before him in a brownmacramé bikini that showcased her beautiful body, and things below the belt weren’t getting any softer. On the contrary.
“Uh, I know I said I wanted to see you in your swimsuit, but I think that might have been a mistake.”
Her brows knitted together as she glanced down at herself. “Why?”
“Because I can hide a hard-on better in jeans than I can in swim trunks.”
That made her laugh, and she reached for his hand to guide him toward the surf.
“You’re pretty charming for a salty old bastard.”
“And seeing you in that swimsuit makes me definitely want to bite your ass, which now that I’m thinking about it, is only making my cock harder.”
“It sounds like you need to get into the ocean,” she teased.
He scooped her up in his arms. “Good idea.”
Dakota shrieked, but her protests were weak, at best, so he didn’t put her down until the water was waist high. But instead of standing on the bottom, she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist—lining his cock up perfectly with her center while her tits pressed against his chest. His hands instinctively cupped her ass to hold her in place.
“This isn’t helping,” he snarled in her ear.
