Page 47 of So Close

“I just wanted to make things good for her,” he said. “But I guess it’s like you said. I kept her in a gilded cage.”

She kept her gaze on him. It was too dark to see the blue of her eyes, but he could see their intensity and their clarity. The curve of her cheek, the softness of her mouth. And that tiny splotch of sticky-sweet.

Maybe he just needed to defuse the intensity with which she was watching him. Or maybe it was because it was a small imperfection on a perfect face. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “You have some marshmallow. Here.” He pointed.

She tried to lick it away, the tip of her tongue just short of where it needed to be. He reached out and put a hand behind her head, his fingers weaving into her hair.

He heard her breath catch—and felt his own echo it.

He gave her a beat to protest, but she didn’t.

He drew her close, leaned in, and licked the marshmallow from her lip, nibbling to make sure he got all of it. He pulled back and looked at her. Her breath came fast. He couldn’t see the color in her face, but he could see the lust-drunkenness in her eyes.

Come to me. Come to me. Come on, Auburn. You said Beachcrest always gives people what they need.

I need you.

He wondered if it worked even if you didn’t say the words out loud.

He was still wondering when she slid her hand into his hair and pulled him in.

23

The breeze ruffled her hair, and his mouth landed hot on hers, and the combination decked her.

Her nipples, already hard in the cool air, knotted so tight they almost hurt, and she could feel all those sensations—the nibbling at her lip, the tightening of her nipples—arrowing down to her clit and her core.

She kissed him back more or less out of self-preservation, because it was more sensation than she could stand and it had to go somewhere.

He was a good kisser. He gave her slick heat that echoed itself between her legs. He showed her he was in charge, which made her even wetter. He nibbled and thrust and bit and teased, and she whimpered.

“You like that?” He pulled back just enough to ask it.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

He kissed her again. Their mouths felt made to be together. She was empty and hungry and craving and wanted him to fill her up. Instead, he made her emptier by finding the bare skin at the bottom of her shirt and sliding his hand up so slowly that she wanted to scream. By the time he cupped her breast through her lace bra, she was pushing herself into his palm. Which made him groan, low and rough. He kissed her again. Little kisses. Bigger kisses that invited her to open for him. His tongue, sliding against hers. Exploring her. Owning her.

“God, Auburn, you have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do this.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

“Tell me you like it.”

All she could do was whimper.

He played with one nipple until there was a line of fire from it to her clit. Then he switched. Back and forth. And then, like he was consolidating his work, he took his mouth away from hers—which made her whimper again—lifted her shirt, and dropped his head so he could work one tight bead with his fingertips and the other with his tongue.

“What do you feel, Auburn?” It was a low, dark tease.

She moaned.

“Do you feel like you could come? If I kept doing this? What if—” he dropped a hand between her legs, cupping her through denim. She could feel the heat of his hand against the seam of her jeans, and she tipped to meet it. The friction over her clit made her cry out, and he moved his hand away, a tease. She clutched his hand and drew it back to where it had been, rubbing herself shamelessly against his palm.

“Kiss me again,” she begged.

He wound her higher and higher, his mouth on hers, his fingertips relentlessly teasing the tip of her breast, his palm cupped tight where she rocked into him. The sensation was drawing into a tight knot in her low belly, so hot and sweet it was calling her name, when the breeze carried voices up the beach.

Trey pulled away from the kiss and touched his lips to her ear. Whispered, his breath tingling everywhere, “There are people walking on the beach, Auburn. Do you want me to stop?”

---