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“What in the world were you doing in the master bath of your friend’s house?”
“Hide-and-seek, obviously,” he said with a grin. It made him look young and happy, and I suddenly wished I could see pictures of him as a boy.
But then I remembered the kind of childhood he’d had, and I reconsidered.
Would he look sad in them? Lonely?
“How did you manage to have a friend here?” I asked. “Did your dad like the family?”
He grunted, “No, definitely not. He just wasn’t around at the time. Fishing boat gig, I believe. Anyway, our moms met at a school function. It was good. Normal, you know? They just didn’t stay long.”
“You felt safe,” I said, realizing just how crazy life could be, “in my house.”
“Yeah,” he answered, stepping forward to kiss my lips. “I guess I did. I actually thought about buying it when it went on the market, but then my life fell apart.”
My eyes widened. “And I bought it instead.”
“Can’t say I’m sad about it,” he said. “About the way things turned out.” And then he must have realized what he’d said because he started to backtrack. “I’m sorry. That’s not?—”
I shushed him with a kiss. “I know,” I said. “We can’t change the way things happened. But we can still be grateful for each other.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being grateful for you,” he said.
“How grateful?” The words left my lips like a challenge, and he was more than willing to accept.
He held out a hand toward me, pinning me with those intense hazel eyes of his. I met him halfway, our fingers touching as he tugged me toward the shower. The water was hot, and the steam floated around us like warm clouds.
We took turns washing each other’s hair and body. He had to kneel for me to reach his hair. The position gave him other ideas, and suddenly, the shampoo was forgotten. His head was buried between my legs, and I was writhing and moaning his name. When I came back to earth, he made good on his promise to pay extra attention to my most intimate areas, and as he ventured lower, I felt that fire build in my belly once more.
The soap dropped, and I felt him press me against the tiles.
“Are you sure you’re not too sore?” he asked again.
I nodded. He could have fucked me raw, and I’d still be here, nodding my head up and down with just as much enthusiasm.
I felt his hands cup my ass, and as one slid down my leg, I did the one thing I’d been dying to do since I’d undressed him the night before.
He was heavy and hard against my stomach.
He let out a curse the moment my hand wrapped around him. “You gotta give me a warning. That right there could end me.”
I let out a laugh, running my hand up and down his cock. He groaned, and I felt a little drunk on the power I had over him. His hands went around my waist, lifting me, and I guided him inside me. The moment our bodies connected, he didn’t hesitate. With a single thrust, he filled me completely.
I’d forgotten how good this could feel.
How right it could feel.
Water poured down on us as his mouth met mine. His pace was surprisingly slow, a contrast to the frenzied start. He took his time, as if he meant to pull every moan and ounce of pleasure from me before we were done.
“I want to hear my name on your lips again, Marin,” he said. “I want this whole fucking island to hear you and know you’re mine.”
His pace quickened then, the sound of skin on skin driving me wild as I felt him reach down and place his thumb right on that delicate bundle of nerves.
I moaned, over and over, feeling that rushing sensation deep in my core. I met his thrusts, grinding my hips against him, and I felt myself fall, tumbling over that cliff. I screamed his name, and somehow, I knew…it would be the only name to ever fall from my lips again.
* * *
I left Macon in the bedroom to dress while I headed to the kitchen.
