Part 2 (1/2)

”I was just reminding you of the simplest solution.”

”You were just trying to get me naked, you mean.”

”That too.”

He laughs again and loops his arms around my waist. But when our eyes meet, some of the humor in their depths is replaced by a look that makes my toes curl against the ocean floor.

After those few moments of tension in the car, I'm glad things are back to normal between us. Or at least as ”normal” as they can be, given our circ.u.mstances.

Ward seems to have forgotten that I tried to send him away earlier. He leans down and captures my mouth, kissing me roughly, and my whole body ignites with sensation. It burns hottest where my skin meets his.

When he finally releases my lips, I feel like I could float away.

”So,” I say softly. ”What do you think of the ocean?”

His eyes lift from mine, looking past me out toward the horizon. I can't even remember my first time at the sh.o.r.e, and I can only imagine what he's feeling right now. As he considers his answer, I spread my hands and slide them up his bare back, reveling in the hardness of his muscles.

”It doesn't look so different from Lake Michigan,” he says after a moment. ”Not that I got to spend a lot of leisure time at the beach growing up.” Ward grew up in Chicago with his mom, and from what he's told me, they were barely getting by. He essentially had the exact opposite of my childhood.

”But you know,” he continues, ”it might look the same, but it's completely different. The water's warmer here. And the sand is strange. And of course everything's salty.” He takes a deep breath, still looking at the wide expanse beyond me. ”But it's mostly the size. Yeah, Lake Michigan's huge, but you know what's on the other side. You can even see it sometimes, or so they tell me. But this...” His arms tighten around my waist. ”You can tell just by looking at it that it goes on forever. Or close enough.”

There's a reverence in his voice. I lean into him and press my lips against his bare shoulder. I can taste the sea on him. His usual taste is there, too, just beneath the saltiness.

Two days ago, when he asked me where I wanted to go, I jokingly told him we should find a deserted island and live out our days drinking coconut milk and living on the beach. When he confessed that he'd never seen the ocean... well, I knew we had to take care of that.

I'm glad that he has this. Maybe I can't convince him to return to Huntington Manor-though I intend to keep trying-but I can thank him in other ways for everything he's done for me.

Ward's hands gently grasp my cheeks, and he tilts my face back.

”What are you thinking?” he asks.

That I want you to go back.

That I want you to have everything, including a relations.h.i.+p with your father.

That I never want to let you go.

But I can have a day, can't I? Or a week? Or a month? Just a month when he's mine and we can forget about everyone and everything else?

I smile up at him. He's so much taller than me that my neck is starting to ache, but I don't care.

”I'm thinking that I'm glad we came here,” I say.

”Me too.” He drops his hand slightly, letting his thumb glide across the column of my throat. His eyes are suddenly serious. ”And I mean it. I'm not going anywhere.”

I don't deserve that kind of loyalty. But it stirs something inside of me all the same, and I'm not strong enough to push him away. I intend to argue with him about his choice to be here, but not right now. Not when he's looking at me like I'm everything, like I'm more breathtaking than the endless stretch of water behind us.

I reach up and pull his face down to mine. His lips are as salty as the rest of him. He holds my face against his and runs his tongue along my lips. His hard chest presses my damp s.h.i.+rt against my body. I tighten my arms around his neck and leap up, hooking my legs around his waist.

”I have a question for you,” I whisper against his mouth.

He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, then releases it and begins to kiss my cheek. ”Hm?”

”What are your feelings about s.e.x in the ocean?”

His mouth freezes against my cheek, but then I feel it curl into a smile.

”Are you propositioning me?” he murmurs. ”Weren't you the one warning me that this was a public beach?”

He's right, of course. But when he looks at me like that, all of my better sense goes out the window. I throw a glance over his shoulder, back toward the family, and something leaps inside of me when I see them packing up their things.

”I think they're going in for the day,” I tell him. I look up and down the sh.o.r.e, and though there are some other people along the sand, no one is close enough to see much of what we're doing.

”What do you say?” I murmur against his neck. I want to do something special to commemorate this experience for him.

His arms are around my waist, his fingers digging into my back, but he doesn't move. He's normally raring to go at the first suggestion of s.e.x, so I'm not sure why he's hesitating now. Maybe he just needs a little motivation.

I slide down off his body and plant my feet on the ocean floor again. Then I reach beneath the water and undo my zipper.

”We never got to finish back there in the car,” I remind him. ”Are you just going to leave me all worked up like this?” I keep my gaze locked on his as I push my jeans down my legs beneath the water.

When I'm finally free of my pants, I hold them up for him to see. I'm feeling wild. Reckless. I don't care that we're in broad daylight in a public place. I drape my dripping jeans over his shoulder.

”I'll put them back on again, if you want,” I say, ”or I can just leave them there for a little while.”

He was already looking at me with affection and desire, but his eyes suddenly sharpen with an intensity that sends a dart of need straight to my core. It's the only warning I have.

He grabs me and crushes me to him. His mouth comes down on mine, hungry and desperate, and I can already feel him hardening against my thigh. I tug at his boxers, shoving them down his legs beneath the water.

I've only just gotten them past his knees when he reaches down and clutches the curve of my bottom, jerking me up toward him again. His fingers dig into the backs of my thighs, and I obey his silent command and hook my legs around him once more.

His mouth continues to devour mine, his tongue thrusting its way inside and his teeth crus.h.i.+ng against the tender skin of my lips.

Maybe I understand why he doesn't want to give this up so easily, even if we both know it's wrong for him to be here.

My arms are around his neck. My fingers in his hair. He tastes so delicious that I don't think I'll ever be able to tear my mouth away. He bites down on my bottom lip. His tongue traces the edge, and b.u.t.terflies dance in my stomach. I s.h.i.+ft my hips, trying to get myself in a better position for what we both want.

But his arms suddenly tighten, holding me still. I keep kissing him, wanting more and more, but his lips are frozen. He lets out a ragged breath against my mouth.

”We don't have a condom,” he reminds me.

There's so much disappointment and so much l.u.s.t in his voice that my emotions are torn in two directions. I know I should be grateful that at least one of us is responsible, but the thought of stopping this now is almost unbearable.

I refuse to stop this now.

”We've been creative before,” I whisper. There are plenty of ways to have s.e.x without actually having s.e.x. This isn't the first time we've found other ways to enjoy each other.

His eyes flash in response to my words. That's a good enough argument for him. His mouth comes down on mine again, and I moan in pleasure as his tongue pushes roughly past my teeth. I press myself against him as much as possible. It doesn't even matter that I'm still wearing my s.h.i.+rt and bra. The drenched fabric clings so closely to my body that I'm sure he can feel the hardness of my nipples and the heat of my skin anyway.