Page 73 of The Wrong Fiancée

He smoothed a hand down my body as he held my waist with the other. His eyes were on mine, soft, aroused, affectionate, hungry, all at the same time.

He ran his fingers through my slippery flesh, and when he touched my clit, I threw my head back, closed my eyes, wanting to savor.

"Look at me, baby."

I felt like my eyelids were heavy, and it took an effort to open them.

"Yeah. Like that. You have these honey-brown eyes that I feel like I'm going to drown in," he breathed, his fingers stroking in and out of me as his thumb stayed on my clit, putting pressure on nerves that were screaming for release.

His fingers on my waist dug in as he held me.

I wanted him inside me, but this was as far as he would let this go. I knew that, and a part of me, the one who wasn't mad with arousal, even understood him. We were dating—we were learning each other—and this was part of it. Necking in a waterfall.

My orgasm built up slowly, and when he pinched my clit, I began to spasm around his fingers.

"Fuck yeah." He kissed me, devouring me, his hips snapping against mine, his hand a barrier between us. "You look so fucking beautiful." He bit my bottom lip and pulled his hand away from my slickness.

He rubbed his cock against me, and each time he touched my sensitive clit, I moaned, feeling it all the way deep inside me. Igrabbed onto him, held him, and kissed him. When he came on a growl, I leaned my head on his shoulder and let go of the past.

Chapter Twenty-Five

DEAN

Iwatched Elika unpack lunch, the smell of fresh pineapple filling the air. It was sweet and tangy, cutting through the earthy scent of the forest.

She had a container ofpoi, a taro root paste. I'd tried it before and loved it.

"My mother used to make the bestpoi," Elika told me.

We sat on a sun-warmed stone on towels and I was once again convinced about the rightness of us because of the ease between us. I was more relaxed than I had been in a long time—though I would've been much better if I'd fucked her as her body had been begging me to.

If I could've resisted touching her, I would have. But I couldn't—not when she was looking at me like I was something delicious she wanted to taste.

"What's that?" I asked when she unwrapped a dish covered in banana leaf.

"Teriyaki chicken musubi," she told me. It was rice pressed tight around grilled chicken and wrapped in seaweed.

She finished our feast by pulling out a small loaf of banana bread wrapped in simple brown paper.

When she was done, I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You didn't have to go all out for me, you know."

"I asked the chef at Pele's Flame to put this together for me," she explained. "He's…ah my friend Leilani's husband."

Dean nodded. "She the same friend who Dad talked to about you being arrested?"

"Yes, and she used to be my supervisor. She and Nalu, her husband, are like family…the closest people I have in my life after Noe."

With the waterfall roaring in the background, the mist catching the light, I reached for a slice of pineapple, its juice dripping down my hand, and licked it away, letting the sweetness settle on my tongue. "I could get used to this."

Elika laughed, that light, relaxed sound I was beginning to crave. She handed me one of the musubi, and I took a bite. The flavor hit me, salty and sweet, and I had to admit—it was damn good. "Well, you're inmyHawaii now." She grinned playfully. "It's not all high-end resorts and art galleries."

I nodded, chewing thoughtfully, appreciating the simplicity of it all. "You know, I think I like this side better. Therealside."

Her eyes softened. "I get the feeling I'm seeing therealyou here."

"You are," I admitted. "No walls with you, baby. I'm an open book."

We ate quietly, and I marveled at how comfortable it felt being with Elika without the need for words. Felicity was the opposite—constantly talking, always seeking attention, unable to sit still. I used to think that’s what I wanted, mistaking her energy for something I needed. But I hadn’t valued peace enough.

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