Page 28 of Ship Happens

“Terrible,” I agree, trailing kisses down her neck. “We should stop immediately.”

“Absolutely.” Her head tilts back, giving me better access to the sensitive skin below her ear.

“Any second now.” My hands slip under her shirt, finding the warm skin of her lower back.

“Mmhmm.” She gasps as I nip at her collarbone.

Our mouths find each other again, the kiss deep and consuming. Her hips shift against mine, and I groan at the friction, my body responding. The thin material of her shorts and my linen pants does little to disguise my arousal, and Harper’s eyes widen as she feels it against her.

Instead of pulling away, she rocks deliberately against me, her pupils dilated, lips swollen from our kisses.

“Harper,” I manage, my voice rough. “If we don’t stop now...”

“Do you want to stop?” she asks, her breathing uneven.

“God, no.” My hands tighten on her waist. “But I don’t want you to regret this.”

She stills, reality crashing back. For a moment, I think she’ll pull away. Instead, she cups my face between her hands, her expression serious.

“I’ve spent two years criticizing you. I threw champagne in your face three days ago. This is irrational.”

“Completely,” I agree.

“No one can know about this.”

“Not a soul.”

She takes a deep breath, then kisses me again. “Just for tonight.”

Words fail me as she kisses a path down my neck, her hands working the buttons of my shirt. I surrender to the sensation for a moment before reclaiming control, lifting her and laying her on the soft sand beside the rock.

I hover above her, taking in her flushed face and tousled hair. “Are you sure about this?”

In answer, she pulls me down for another kiss, her body arching up to meet mine. My hand slides along her thigh, up under her shorts, finding the lace edge of her underwear. She gasps against my mouth as my fingers explore higher, discovering the heat of her.

“Ethan,” she breathes, her head falling back as I stroke her through the thin fabric.

I’ve never heard her say my name like that—like a plea, like she is begging. I want to hear it again. I push the material aside and touch her wetness, watching her face as pleasure overtakes her. Her skin glows in the moonlight as she moves against my hand, seeking more pleasure.

Her fingers fumble with my belt, her usual precision abandoned in urgency. I help her, then groan as her hand wraps around me, stroking slowly at first, then faster.

“Harper,” I warn as her touch threatens my control.

She smiles, a flash of the competitive woman I first met. “Problem?”

“Only that I want this to last.”

I reclaim her mouth, my fingers continuing their exploration, finding the rhythm that makes her breath hitch. She’s gorgeous like this—uninhibited, responsive, her defenses abandoned.

“I need—” she starts, then breaks off with a gasp as I circle her sensitive clit.

“What do you need?” I murmur against her ear.

“You,” she admits. “Now.”

I pull back just enough to look in her eyes, needing absolute certainty. “Harper?—”

“Please, Ethan.” Her voice is urgent. “I want this.”

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