in case he had some foolish idea they’d go backpacking into the clouds. It looked fun, even romantic on the big screen. And it so wasn’t going to happen. Not for her. “I haven’t made time to exercise in ages. I’m sure you’ve already figured that out,” she muttered as an aside.
He lifted his head. “How would I know that?” He ran his palm up her belly over her rib cage, stopping just below her breasts. “I’m not getting that impression. Maybe I should explore further.” He’d slid his hand beneath the hem of her top before her addled brain could register his intention.
“What are you doing?”
“Really?” he said with a laugh.
“Shut up.”
She acknowledged the sudden throb of longing in her chest, resentful of the barriers between them.
She shuddered when his fingers slipped inside a silk cup and grazed the sensitive puckered flesh of her right breast.
He dipped his head, briefly kissed her lips. “Do you want me to make love to you here?” he asked in a low sexy murmur that seemed to dance along her nerve endings. He caressed her nipple, plucking lightly at it until she’d arched her back.
She couldn’t answer, couldn’t think straight. Not when he pushed her tank top up high enough to expose her bra. He fingered the front clasp but left it fastened, then managed to shove the material aside, baring her left breast. The cool damp air mingled with his warm breath, laving her tingling skin.
The anticipation was too much.
“Yes.”
He looked up at her, and while he could surely see her face under the moonlight, she had trouble reading his. She thought he might be smiling, and then he kissed her again, doing all the right things with his teeth and tongue and hot, talented mouth.
Then he stopped and covered her breast with the silk cup. “I am going to make love to you, Lindsey, but you should be relaxed and totally into it. It’s not right otherwise. I want you to enjoy every second.”
She’d never heard those kinds of words from a man. His tone was warm and reassuring and she was touched that he understood that it wasn’t easy for her to loosen up. But the truth was she felt safe with Rick. She could hear it in his voice, had seen it in his eyes that he wanted her.
Before she could even mourn the loss of his hand at her breast, he gently tucked his hand inside her shorts. Shocked, she jerked, but instinctively welcomed his intimate touch as he stroked between her thighs.
“Mmm, you’re wet.” He pressed slow kisses on her neck and collarbone, distracting her while he slid his fingers under the elastic of her panties.
She tensed again, but focused on the pleasure he was giving her, hastily she kissed him back. It turned into nothing more than a hasty mating of lips, a whimper stolen by the stiff ocean breeze. The second his finger found her clit, the world stopped. Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut, and clutched his arm. It felt like tempered sculpted steel beneath her palm.
“Lie back, Lindsey,” he whispered in a husky, yet soothing voice. “Let me take care of you.”
With a little smile on her lips, she slumped back in a limp heap. This is what she’d wanted from the moment she thought she might see him again. Only Rick could take care of her better than she could herself. No other man had ever made her come like Rick.
He knew just where to touch her, just how much pressure to use, how to circle his thumb just so. How to bite softly at her lips while his long lean finger penetrated her.
Barely able to breathe, it took her a second to adjust to the sensual invasion. Her muscles clenched his finger, her entire body tensing tighter than a violin string as she surged upward against his hand. And then his thumb moved again, and her shoulders relaxed against the towel and the hard-packed sand as more pleasure shimmered through her body.
She fisted the towel at her sides, opened her eyes to the blur of twinkling stars. She moistened her dry lips, then stilled when he took