Page 72 of Kiss Me Tonight

“Sorry,” she says with a nervous laugh, “I’m such a mom.” She pats the outer towel with her free hand. “Thought we might want to dry off when we’re done.”

God, she’s beautiful.

With those nerdy glasses and the nervous way she tugs at the hem of her wrap and the moonlight turning her blond hair into strands of platinum and silver, she’s absolutely stunning.

“I’m not gonna kiss you tonight,” I blurt out, a far cry from the suave, charming version of myself that America has watched on TV every Wednesday night for weeks now.

With a finger to her glasses, she pushes the frame up the bridge of her nose. “Why not?”

I drop my gaze to my hands, which I stuff in the pockets of my swim trunks.Just say the fucking words, man. Don’t be a pussy. I clear my throat. “Because I’ve always jumped into the sack with women I find attractive. I don’t remember their names. I can’t tell you a damn thing about them. I don’t want tonight . . . I don’t want us going out in the water to be about getting off.”

If Levi’s amused by my verbal fumbling, she doesn’t show it.

She touches her fingers to my wrist, a light, tantalizing brush of skin on skin that hardens my dick even as it quickens my pulse. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Something told me she would.

The glow from the moon highlights the path as we wind our way down to the beach, with me up front to lead the way. Her hand finds my naked back, the warmth of her skin chasing away the chill of the night. Stone pebbles kick up under my tennis shoes, and I lift a thin branch about halfway down, so she can duck under without smacking her head. In silence, we fall back into place.

Only this time I reach backward and grasp her hand in mine.

I hear her stifled gasp.

“This okay?” I husk out.

“I always figured you were the sort to take crazy liberties. Glad to see you’re not proving me wrong,” she teases, squeezing my hand.

She doesn’t let go.

A grin fights its way to my face.

The downward slope of the path evens out as pebble turns to sand. I wait for the moment when Levi realizes there’s a kayak waiting, the same one I hauled to the beach earlier today in anticipation of an early morning workout before football practice tomorrow.

This isn’t what I had in mind hours ago, when I balanced the kayak over my head and walked it down the path, but this is so much better.

“Is that a . . .” She trails off, setting the towels down on a cluster of rocks. Releasing my hand, she steps forward. “You have a kayak?”

I nod. “Bought it when I got the house.” I kick off my shoes, aiming them for the rocks with our towels. “I figure you can go in the kayak, oar in hand to defend yourself from any sharks, and I’ll go in the water.”

“So I’ll be safe.”

She says it so matter-of-factly that my gaze leaps to her face. Though the clouds have slipped over the moon, casting her in shadow, I get the feeling she’s serving me with a hard, searching glance. “Maybe another night you’ll jump in the water with me.”

“Maybe I will.”

My cock stiffens in my swim trunks as I hear her fumbling around with her silk wrap, and I blame the clouds for stealing away the opportunity for me to get a real good look at Levi in nothing but her bathing suit.

I picture her in a one-piece. Something practical and simple.

Somethingshebelieves is fitting of someone who’s a mom to wear.

Shock smacks me upside the head when she drifts closer and I catch a quick glimpse of skin. Thin straps are knotted at the back of her neck, and the bikini—Jesus, she’s beautiful—she’s wearing is nothing but two strips of cloth that cover the necessities.

I go from half-mast to full-blown erection in a matter of seconds.

She plucks at the waistband of her bottoms. “I had to dig deep in my closet for this,” she says, her voice as soft and rhythmic as the waves lapping at the sand, “so it’s a little on the small side.”

Small is the perfect size.

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