Part 9 (1/2)

”Prize?” Her voice was husky now. ”Do I get to pick my prize?”

For a moment there was nothing but the sound of waves buffeting the beach and the whistle of wind in the palm leaves overhead. Things faded away, the rolling waves gentled and the wind softened. It was as if the those few seconds hung in the air-frozen in time-leaving him only with water and sand and Abby.

And a deep, dangerous undercurrent of s.e.xual awareness that he couldn't shake off, no matter how hard he tried.

”In that dress, you can pretty much ask for anything.”

She moved slightly so that she was facing him, her eyes downcast, her chest rose and fell rapidly-as if she was having trouble breathing. And dammit if Tucker didn't have the same problem. The air was too heavy, it was filled with dark and l.u.s.tful things.

”Anything?” she repeated.

She glanced up suddenly, and Tucker was lost in the s.h.i.+ny depths of her eyes. Had they always been so...so large and expressive? He might have groaned when she licked her lips.

”Kiss me,” she said suddenly.

Tucker gave himself a mental smackdown and cleared his throat as he desperately tried to get his s.h.i.+t together. He wanted to kiss her-he wanted to kiss her badly-but should they go there?

”Abby.”

”Now, Tucker.” Her hands reached up slowly and he felt the cool touch of her fingers along each side of his face. ”I want you to kiss me now.”

Her breath was like a whisper on his skin, and he closed his eyes as she gently tugged his face toward hers.

”I don't think this is a good idea,” he said hoa.r.s.ely, his control thin, his arms snaking around her waist as he brought her flush to his body. G.o.d, she felt as good as she looked.

”I didn't ask you what you thought, Tucker.” Her hands sank into his hair and her mouth slid across his, a gentle swipe that was merely a tease. ”I just want my prize.”

There was one second when he could have pushed her away. One second when he could have saved them both from heading down a path that would change everything.

But that second pa.s.sed when she made a s.e.xy sound in the back of her throat, and he opened his mouth over hers in a demanding, hungry kiss. He tasted wine and strawberries and Abby as his tongue delved inside her mouth seeking more.

Her lips were soft, pliant and he eased a bit, his mouth gentle as he tugged on her bottom lip before stroking her inside, with his tongue. He was slow. Thorough. Methodic. He wanted to take his time-make it count-because there would only be one first kiss.

He cupped the back of her head, his body hot and urgent as her tongue slid inside his mouth and when she moaned, he thought he was gonna lose it. Their kiss turned hotter. Harder.

And Tucker couldn't remember the last time he'd been so desperate to get close to someone. To taste someone. To be inside someone.

He inhaled her sweet scent as he kissed his way along her jaw and when his hot, wet mouth slid under her earlobe, she sagged against him. Her hands slid across his shoulders and her hips moved provocatively, pus.h.i.+ng into his groin.

Tucker was hard. Good lord, he had the mother of all erections going on right now and he knew that she could feel it. He should stop them. He really should. But then she whispered or moaned, oh G.o.d, and he lost all hope of stopping.

There was no way. He couldn't get enough.

”Jesus Christ, you feel amazing,” he said roughly, his mouth seeking hers again.

His hands slid down all that exposed skin at her back, all the way down to the slender dip at the base of her spine. His large hands slid lower and cupped her, pulling Abby even closer against him, before his fingers dipped below the material.

Her mouth was open, her tongue bold and curious as she kissed him back, every stroke making him harder. His fingers worked their way lower and...

Jesus. H. Christ.

He came up for air and rested his forehead against hers. ”You're not wearing anything under this dress.”

Abby shook her head and she might have whispered, no, or she might have made that s.e.xy little noise again. Tucker had no clue. All he could think about was the fact that Abby Mathews wasn't wearing underwear.

As in, she was commando.

His c.o.c.k twitched.

Jesus. f.u.c.k.

”Hey, now. What are you guys up to?” Rick Simon called out from the patio behind them.

Tucker had his back to his cousin and he knew that the lighting was too dim for Rick to see them properly.

He glanced down at Abby's swollen mouth and slowly let his hands drop. He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes never leaving Abby. s.h.i.+t. What to say?

”Abby,” he said roughly.

She shook her head, took a moment and cleared her throat. ”I'm just getting ready to head to the room, Rick.” Abby answered, taking a step back from Tucker. ”Can you give us a minute?”

How the h.e.l.l could she sound so in control when her chest still heaved and her hair was all over the place?

”Sure,” Rick answered. ”I'll just drink this here c.o.c.ktail that you won't be needing. Actually. I'll just maybe take it inside.”

Tucker ignored his cousin, flush with satisfaction because the woman in front of him looked as if she'd been thoroughly kissed.

A few seconds pa.s.sed as the two of them regarded each other in silence. Tucker had no idea what was going on inside Abby's head, but he sure as h.e.l.l was glad she couldn't see what was going on inside his. Because it was all about naked bodies-his and Abby's.

”You might want to wait a bit before you head up to our room, Mr. Simon,” she said softly.

Tucker glanced down at his straining erection, and then back up at her.

”You might want to wear underwear tomorrow, Miss Mathews.”

She looked surprised for about a second and then laughed, a beautiful, musical sound that made his chest tight. Had she always sounded like that? As if she had the ability to lighten everything with the sound of her laughter?

Slowly, Abby stepped away from him, that generous mouth still curved into a smile. ”You'll just have to kiss me again to find out.”

Should Tucker be surprised by her bold statement? By the kiss they'd just shared that had pretty much rocked more than anything in recent memory?

Maybe he should have been. Maybe he should have been ashamed of himself for taking something that he had no right to take. Instead, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his slacks and watched her disappear into the shadows surrounding the hotel.

He turned back toward the ocean, but this time as he gazed over the waves and watched them crash onto the beach, he didn't feel the melancholy or the darkness that he usually did. He felt something else. Something light and airy. Maybe even a little bit happy.

It took him a moment, but then he realized that what he was feeling was hope.