Page 113 of The Influencer

I frown. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t trying to have sex with you.”

He snorts. “You’ll want to when you see me dripping wet.”

I slap his ass and send him out into the ocean. When his feet hit the water, he lets out a high-pitched squeal. “Cold! Cold!”

That means his nipples will be hard, and I can’t help but be happy about that. I watch him dive into the waves and resurface after only a few seconds with his mission accomplished. He’s soaking wet. As he walks back to the shore, he’s expertly managing his hair, shaking it out with his fingers and scrunching it with the palms of his hands.

By the time he’s on the beach, his nipples stand out through his now transparent top in tight peaks, water runs in rivulets down his face, marking all his contours perfectly, and his trunks are clinging to his quads. He’s a fucking wet dream in every sense of the phrase.

“You win,” I concede. “I absolutely want to fuck you now.”

He smirks, and I snap several photos while he poses in ways that I’m positive are designed to make me hard. It’s working.

“Okay,” he finally says, running toward me and leaping into my arms. He presses his freezing face to my neck and murmurs, “Now warm me up.”

With pleasure.

I hold him to me as tightly as I can, wrapping his body in my arms, kissing all the exposed skin of his neck and throat I can reach and being sure to breathe heavy hot breaths onto his chilled skin.

“Oh, God,” he sighs softly. “That’s so good. So, so good.”

“It would work better if you were naked.”

“Or I could just do a few jumping jacks.”

“I’ll keep you right here, thanks.”

He turns his face and captures my mouth with his. I sink deep into his sensual kiss as we cling to each other. We fucked before we left the condo this morning, but I want him again. I want him all the time.

He’s so sweet. So beautiful. So much. I can barely believe he exists, much less has any interest in spending time with me. This is the most alive I’ve ever felt. The most wanted, the most important. All that to say—I understand exactly how lucky I am. Exactly how special this moment is. That my life after him may pale in comparison, but right now, I’m living a dream in Technicolor. “You’re the fucking best,” I tell him when our mouths need a break.

He eyes me skeptically. “You think?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not so bad, either,” he says.

“I’m flattered.”

“You can set me down. Between you and the sun, I might burst into flames.”

I do as he asks, and we both take a moment to adjust our erections because the kiss was that hot.

Now that the photo session is over, and Jade is warmed up, I unroll the beach blanket and pull two bottled waters from the backpack we brought down. I might hold off on getting into the ocean, now that I know how cold it is.

When I sit, Jade wastes no time snuggling up to my side. I sling an arm around him, liking how close he is—how close he always wants to be. His affection is the perfect antidote to nearly two years’ worth of the cold shoulder. I admit I’ve taken advantage of his body’s availability, but I’m not going to mention it if he isn’t. If he’s got a problem with me, historically, he’s got no problem bringing it up.

“So, you come here often?” I ask.

He laughs. “Not enough. What about you?”

“Not as much as I thought I would when we moved out here. I grew up close to the Gulf, and the water there is warm—murky. I was excited for the beaches here, which are way more beautiful, but why does it have to be so cold?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s an ocean, Ash. We don’t ask questions.”

“Where’d you grow up?” I ask.

He glances at me sharply, the sudden movement of his head catching my eye.

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