Page 116 of Surfer's Paradise

Isaac grinned, already shifting forward slightly, arms outstretched like he was going to pull her over.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice low and persuasive, hands curling slightly in invitation.

“No.”

“Rosie.”

“Isaac.”

He sighed, tilting his head back, rubbing a hand over his jaw, exhaling dramatically.

And then—

His dark gaze flicked back to her, sharp and heated, already hardening in his shorts, barely trying to hide it.

“Baby,” he said, voice thick with amusement and something darker, “you can’t sit over there in my shirt and expect me to have a serious conversation while I’m like this. All I can think of is whether or not you’ve got panties on under there.”

Rosie snorted, grabbing a pillow and launching it straight at his face.

“Knock it off.”

Isaac just chuckled, catching the pillow midair, eyes still lazily tracing over her body like he wasn’t even pretending to be ashamed of himself.

He gripped the pillow in one hand, setting it aside. Then he licked his lips, leaning forward slightly, eyes burning into hers.

“Isaac,” she started. “Let me make myself absolutely clear—I am not, under any circumstances, having casual, no-commitment sex with you. Stop trying. The answer is no.”

“You sure?” he asked, voice laced with deliberate arrogance. “Hm.”

Rosie’s face flamed, but she kept her composure, standing her ground. “Yes,” she said firmly. “One hundred percent sure.”

Isaac tilted his head, studying her. “Not even a little bit?”

“Not even slightly.”

He grinned, lazy and wicked. “I think you’re lying.”

Rosie let out an exasperated breath, grabbed another pillow, and smacked him over the head with it.

Isaac laughed, blocking the second hit, catching the pillow in midair. And before she could arm herself with another—he lunged forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her straight into his lap.

Rosie let out a startled squeal, hands bracing against his chest as he tugged her flush against him. His arms locked around her waist, his body heat bleeding into her, and suddenly, she was straddling him, face inches from his.

“Isaac—”

He cut her off with a slow, deep kiss, his lips warm, possessive, unapologetic.

Rosie made a small noise of protest, but he just deepened it, one hand curling around the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist.

And she…

She melted.

Just for a second.

Just for one small, traitorous moment, before she snapped herself back to reality.

She pulled back slightly, lips parted, breathing uneven.

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