Page 43 of The Billionaire and the Virgin

“The last time I went out higher than my ankles, I nearly became worm food,” Rob called out, but he found himself taking off his shoes and socks anyway. Like a dumbass.

“I’ll hold on to you,” she offered enticingly, and then walked further out into the water, until it was up to her breasts. And then she beckoned him. “Come join me.”

Rob sighed. His hands went to his hips and he studied the beach. It was near midnight, the tide high. The moon was shining down on the dark waters of the ocean, and the waves rolled in rhythmically. The beach, normally crowded in the daytime, was completely empty this late at night. It would just be him and Marjorie.

He stalled a moment more. “I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”

“Are you boxers or briefs?” She called out to him, splashing water in his direction.

“Will it bother you if I say neither? I go commando. Always have.”

Her shocked giggle floated through the night air, making his dick even harder. “Really?”

“Really. You still want to swim?”

“I do,” she called out. “I promise not to look.” And she turned her back to him.

Well, dammit, he kind of wanted her to look.Virgin, he reminded himself. With a sigh, he glanced around and then shucked his pants into the sand. This was going to be a huge fucking mistake, he just knew it. But he was drawn toward the frolicking, bikini-clad Marjorie like a moth to flame.

The water was fucking cold and he yelped as it hit his bare nuts. “Jesus, you’re a fucking liar,” he called out. “This is like ice!”

She only giggled, her hands moving through the water as she continued to stare out into the ocean, obediently not looking as he eased into the water. He wished she’d look, though. He wanted her to gaze at him with wondering eyes, to check out his package like she had that morning in the hotel room.

Then again, considering that he was probably shriveling thanks to the cold, it was likely for the best that she didn’t check out his stuff. Yet.

“You’re a horrible, horrible little tease,” he growled under his breath, wading out to her. The water grew deeper, now at his waist, and when the tide rolled back, it sucked and pulled at his legs, and panic stirred in him again. “Come back,” he told her. “Don’t go out so fucking far.”

“This isn’t far,” she said lightly, dancing a few feet away. “I’m barely at chest height.”

“Yes, but I’m shorter than you,” he said. “I might drown if I go out that far.”

She turned around and splashed him, scowling.

He put up his hands to block the icy water, chuckling. “That got your attention.”

“Cruel man,” she said in a tone of voice that implied he was anything but. Hell, just that teasing note in her voice made his dick get all hard again, icy water or not.

“You’re the cruel one—trying to drown me in the water here.” He skated a hand over the surface. “Do sharks swim at night? Do we need to worry about that shit? What about riptides?”

“It’s fine,” she soothed. “Don’t worry. I’m right here with you.”

“I fucking hate the water,” he grumbled. “Fucking hate it. Can’t believe you’re making me come out here.”

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” She moved toward him a few feet, close enough that he could see the amusement shining in her eyes, and the water lapping just below her breasts in that tiny string bikini. His gaze kept traveling downward, and he kept forcing it up again to be polite.

At this rate, he was going to need a medal for sainthood.

Something brushed against his foot, and he yelped and moved toward Marjorie in the water. “What the fuck was that?”

She giggled again. “That was my foot.”

“Christ, don’t do that again.” His heart was hammering in his chest.

“You really are scared, aren’t you?”

“I think I have PTSD from almost drowning last week. It doesn’t bother me too much until I’m out farther than ankle deep. Fuck, I don’t even like baths anymore. Just showers.”

“Poor baby,” she soothed in that teasing voice, and her arms moved to his neck and wrapped around him. “I’m right here. You can lean on me if you need to.”

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