Page 35 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

He made a low noise at the back of his throat and started moving—short, graceless jerks of his hips, ragged moans each time he twitched forward. God, sogood. Letting him use my mouth, aftershocks of pleasure zipping through me, heat still simmering in my gut.

He tore away from me with a groan, gripping himself for a fewurgent, jagged thrusts. I clutched at his biceps. “C’mon, Logan. Your turn.”

“Fuck. You just—” A low growl as he cut himself off and dropped down, locked his teeth around the muscle in my neck. It’d bruise and I wanted it, God. Wanted his hands all over, too much, too soon. But I couldn’t bring myself to care, not right now while he jolted against me, hips still working in quick hitches. One more time until he shuddered and spilled warm and slick on my belly, then fell on top of me, going still.

God.God.

My heart hammered in my chest, mouth used and swollen, warmth flushing my cheeks like heady wine. We were both panting, his muscles trembling under my hold. Long seconds passed before he lifted his head, and I wished I could read his expression.

“Holyshit,” he said, voice pitched as though it was some kind of revelation. It made me blow out a breathy laugh.

“Eloquent, college boy.” I framed his face with both hands, his skin hot under my palms. “You sure you’re working on your second degree?”

“Give me a break. All the blood’s still in my downstairs brain.”

“Valid excuse.”

“I thought so.” With that, he circled my wrist in a warm, light hold, his thumb pressing down on my pulse point. Maybe he could feel my heart still racing.

For a few seconds, we didn’t move—pressed together, our skin tacky with sweat and his come drying between us, cocks softening. Leaves rustled outside the window, the jungle’s nightly sounds rising and falling in a hypnotizing symphony.

“You coming back with me?” he asked. “Stay the night?”

I wanted to. God, I did.

“It’s a risk,” I said softly.

He was quiet for a beat. “That’s not a no.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Again, not a no.” He turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand,fingers still loosely clasped around my wrist. “Or I could come back with you?”

“My bed is barely even big enough for me.” I puffed out a sigh, and no, I really shouldn’t. But I liked him, really quite a lot. And if there was a chance we could do this again, either later or early in the morning? I hadn’t fallen asleep with anyone in years—hadn’t wanted to.

“Right, yeah. Of course.” Logan sounded like he was trying to hide his disappointment. He made no effort to talk me around, though, and somehow, that swung it for me. I wrapped my arms around him just as he started moving away.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay the night.”

About half a milefrom the resort, illumination on the trees broke the black wall of the jungle. Designed to welcome guests, I considered it my two-minute warning before we’d hit the imposing iron gates at the entrance. When the road swerved and opened up to the sea on one side, I asked Logan to pull over.

“Sure you don’t want to hide in the trunk?” he asked with a quick grin, his face a relief of light and shadows in the dim glow.

“Last I checked, this wasn’t a spy movie.” I grinned back. “You’re no James Bond, man.”

“You wound me.”

“There, there.” I gave his shoulder a comforting pat. “I’ll patch up your bruised ego in just a bit.”

“Oh, yeah?” One corner of his mouth tugged into an impish quirk, and I leaned across the gap between our seats to kiss it away.

I slipped out of the car a moment later, the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine mingling with the salty tang of the sea. Logan drove off, leaving me to follow the shoreline. Waves crashed against the rocks in a soothing rhythm. The moon threw a silvery blanket over the deserted beach.

Soon, I reached the edge of the resort and stepped onto the wooden walkway. Its gentle curve was lit by electric torches that flickered with a mimicked breeze, my footsteps soft on the planks. Guest cabins twinkled through the trees above me, the seaside bar already closed for the night.

I was abruptly tired—not the bone-deep heaviness of true exhaustion but a soft haze, slow and honey-sweet. Hardly a surprise when my usual idea of a wild night was starting a movie at nine. Was this a bad idea?

Probably, yeah. But I’d told Logan I’d stay the night. And I didn’t want to back out.

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