Page 47 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

My mouth pressed against his throat as I caught my breath. He did too, the heavy thud of his heart slowing to a normal rate. With one arm around my back, he hugged me close.

“Not bad,” he said, impish delight tucked into his voice.

I raised my head for a glare. “Not bad? I think you killed my brain.”

“My ass tends to have that effect on people, yeah.”

“But at least you’re humble.”

He laughed, everything about him bright and immediate. Iblanketed him with the weight of my body, kissed him until he’d gone loose and quiet under me, his fingers carding through my hair in a lazy, sleepy rhythm. It would be so very easy to doze off just like this. Leave the mess we’d made until the morning.

I reminded myself that future me would fault my decision-making. Holding on to the condom, I pulled out gently.

Logan groaned. “Mustyou do the responsible adult thing?”

“Someone’s got to set an example.” I didn’t want to hit a nerve, what with his parents and all, so I soothed any sting with a smile. “Stay. I’ll get a washcloth to clean you up, okay?”

Even before he opened his mouth, the spark of mischief in his eyes told me to brace myself. “You take such good care of me.” He paused. “Like amother.”

”I don’t know you,” I announced.

“The Bible would beg to differ.”

I managed to swallow a laugh. “Oh, wow, and now you’re bringing religion into it. What’s next—conflict in the Middle East?”

”I’m just warming up for the great debate on gun control.”

Fuck. I could fall in love with you.

I squashed the thought along with a mild swell of panic. “How about tax reform?”

“Oh.” He fanned himself. “My favorite kind of pillow talk.”

I shook my head, stupid softness curling in my belly. The hoot of a night bird floated through the window, a familiar island sound that settled my pulse. “I’ll be right back.”

“Isn’t that Schwarzenegger’s line inThe Terminator?”

Whatever lingering tension I’d held slipped away. “Close enough. Also, your mind is a weird and wondrous place.”

“Thank you, I think.” He propped himself up, leaning back on his elbows with a smile. His body was a long, mouthwatering curve. Just like me, his skin showed tan lines where his shorts usually sat, and something about that felt private, precious.

I made myself turn towards the bathroom. “You know,” I said over my shoulder, “maybe you should look for an art hotel you canmanage. Dedicated to, like, Dali or Francis Bacon. Put both your strange mind and your first degree to good use.”

It drew an amused snort from him. “Maybe, yeah.”

After discarding the condom and rinsing off my dick, I wet a washcloth and returned to the bedroom. Should I toss it to him? It seemed a bit cold. But cleaning him up myself felt like the act of a boyfriend, miles from casual. I looked at him—the mess of his hair and his flushed skin, how he was watching me through sleepy eyes.

“You’ll stay?” His voice tilted up just the slightest bit, almost not a question.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” I crossed the room and wiped him clean, then threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom. Logan mimed a tiny cheer when it landed on the tiles with a wet smack.

“And hescores!”

”Sure did,” I said meaningfully.

He grinned at me. “Rematch tomorrow?”

It would be a Saturday, which meant arrival and departure for many guests who stayed a week. In high season, even that didn’t guarantee a day off for Nia and me, but tomorrow, we’d be able to swing it. Which reminded me that Tom had yet to make it back. Go Nia.

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